For two months before approaching Zirda Tantra had begun attempts to get in touch with the planet’s outer space station. There was only one such station — on a small natural satellite with no atmosphere that was much nearer to Zirda than the Moon is to Earth.
The spaceship continued calling when the planet was no more than thirty million kilometres away and the terrific speed of Tantra had been reduced to three thousand kilometres a second. It was Nisa’s watch but all the crew were awake, sitting in anticipation in front of the control-tower screens.
Nisa kept on calling, increasing the power of the transmissions and sending rays out fanwise ahead of the ship.
At last they saw the tiny shining dot of the satellite.
The spaceship came into orbit around the planet, approaching it in a spiral and gradually adjusting its speed to that of the satellite. Soon Tantra’s speed was the same as that of the fast-moving little satellite and it seemed as though an invisible hawser held them fast. The ship’s electronic stereotelescope searched the surface of the satellite until the crew of Tantra were suddenly confronted with an unforgettable sight.
A huge, flat-topped glass building seemed to be on fire in the rays of the blood-red sun. Directly under the roof was something in the nature of an assembly hall. There a number of beings — unlike terrestrial humans but unmistakably people — were frozen into immobility. Excitedly, Pour Hyss, the astronomer of the expedition, continued to adjust the focus. The vague rows of people visible under the glass roof were absolutely motionless. Pour Hyss increased the instrument’s magnification. Out of the vagueness a dais surrounded by instrument panels appeared, and on it a long table on which a man sat cross-legged facing the audience, his crazy, terrifying eyes staring into the distance.
“They’re dead, frozen!” exclaimed Erg Noor. The spaceship continued to hover over Zirda’s satellite and fourteen pairs of eyes remained fixed on that glass tomb, for such, indeed, it was. How long had the dead been sitting there in their glass house? The planet had broken off communication seventy years before and if we add to that six years for the rays to reach Earth it meant three quarters of a century.
All eyes were turned on the commander. Erg Noor, his face pale, was staring into the yellow, smoky atmosphere of the planet through which the lines of the mountain ranges and the glint of the sea were faintly discernible. But there was nothing to provide the answer they had come there for.
“The station perished seventy-five years ago and has not been re-established! That can only mean a catastrophe on the planet. We must go down into the atmosphere, perhaps even land. Everybody is present now so I’ll ask your opinion.”
The only objection was raised by Pour Hyss, a man on his first Cosmic trip; he had been substituted for an experienced worker who had fallen ill just before the start. Nisa looked with indignation at his big, hawk-like nose and his ugly ears set low down on his head.
“If there has been a catastrophe on the planet there is no possibility of our getting anameson there. If we circle the planet at low level we shall reduce our supply of planetary fuel, if we land, we reduce it to a still greater extent. Apart from that we don’t know what’s happened, there may be some powerful radiations that will kill us.”
The other members of the expedition supported their commander.
“There is no planetary radiation that can be dangerous to a ship with Cosmic shielding. Weren’t we sent here to find out what has happened? What are we going to tell the Great Circle? It isn’t enough to establish a fact, we have to explain it-excuse me if this sounds like a lecture to schoolboys!” said Erg Noor and the usual metallic tones in his voice now had a note of ridicule in them. “I don’t imagine we can evade doing what is our plain duty.”
“The upper layers of the atmosphere have a normal temperature!” exclaimed Nisa, happily, on completion of her rapidly performed measurements.
Erg Noor smiled and began to put the ship down in a spiral each turn of which was slower than the last as they neared the surface of the planet. Zirda was somewhat smaller than Earth and no great speed was needed to circumnavigate it at low level. The astronomers and the geologist checked the maps of the planet with what was observed by Tantra’s optical instruments. There had been no noticeable change in the outlines of the continents and the seas gleamed calmly in the red sun. Nor had the chains of mountains changed the shapes that were known from former photographs — but the planet was silent.
The crew spent thirty-five hours at their instruments, relieving each other occasionally.
The composition of the atmosphere, the radiation of the red sun, everything agreed with formerly recorded Zirda data. Erg Noor looked for the Zirda stratosphere tables in his reference book. Ionization was higher than they showed. A vague and alarming concept was taking form in Noor’s mind.
On the sixth turn of the descending spiral the outlines of big cities became clearly visible. And still not a sound was recorded by the spaceship’s receivers.
Nisa Greet was relieved from her post for a meal and seemed to have dozed off for a while. She thought, however, that she had not slept for more than a few minutes. The spaceship was crossing Zirda’s night disc at a speed no greater than that of a terrestrial helicopter. Below them there should have been cities, factories and ports, but not a single light showed in the pitch blackness no matter how thoroughly the powerful stereotelescopes searched the ground. The thunder of the spaceship cutting through the atmosphere should have been audible for dozens of miles. Another hour passed and still no light was seen. The anxious waiting was becoming unbearable. Noor switched on the warning sirens hoping that their awe-inspiring howl, added to the roar of the spaceship, would be heard by the mysteriously silent inhabitants of Zirda.
A wave of fiery light swept away the evil darkness as Tantra reached the daylight side of the planet. Below them everything was still black. Rapidly developed and enlarged photographs showed that the earth was covered with a solid carpet of flowers something like the velvety-black poppies that grow on Earth. The masses of black poppies stretched for thousands of miles to the exclusion of all other vegetation — trees and bushes, reeds and grass. The streets of the cities looked like the ribs of giant skeletons lying on a black carpet; metal structures formed gaping rusty wounds. Not a living being, not a tree anywhere, nothing but the black poppies!
Tantra dropped an observation bomb beacon and again plunged into the night. Six hours later the robot reported the content of the air, temperature, pressure and other conditions obtaining on the surface of the planet. Everything was normal for Zirda with the exception of increased radioactivity.
“What an awful tragedy!” muttered Eon Thai, the expedition’s biologist, in a dull voice as he recorded the data supplied by the station. “They have killed themselves and everything on their planet!”
“How could they?” asked Nisa, hiding the tears that were ready to flow. “Is it as bad as that? The ionisation isn’t so very high.”
“A long time has passed since then,” answered the biologist, glumly. His manly Circassian face with its aquiline nose assumed an expression of sternness, despite his youth. “Radioactive disintegration is dangerous just because it accumulates unnoticed. For hundreds of years the total radiation could increase corns by corus, the unit of radiation; then suddenly there comes a qualitative change, heredity collapses, the reproduction of the species ceases and added to that there are epidemics of radiation diseases. This has happened more than once before, the Circle knows of similar catastrophes.”