I lifted the laser gun and Dobbin said to me, “There be no use, you foolish folk. There is nothing you can do.”
I whirled on him angrily. “I thought I told you...’ I yelled. “One more word out of you and right between the eyes.”
“Violence,” Dobbin told me, perkily, “will get you nowhere. But staying here, once the sun has set, spells very rapid death.”
“But the ship!” I shouted.
“The ship is sealed,” said Dobbin, “like all the others. Better sealed with you outside of it than with you still inside.”
And although I would not have admitted it, I knew that he was right in saying there was nothing we could do. For I recalled that the field had been unmarked by the laser beam and undoubtedly all this whiteness was the same-the field, the ships, the city, all coated, more than likely, with some substance so tightly bonded in its atomic structure that it was indestructible.
“I sorrow greatly for you,” said Dobbin, with no sorrow in his voice. “I know the shock of you. But once on this planet, no one ever leaves. Although there is no need of also dying, I plead with you compassionately to get into the saddle and let us head for safety.”
I looked up at Sara and she nodded quietly. She had figured it, I knew, about the way I had, although in my case most unwillingly. There was no use in staying out here. The ship was sealed, whatever that might mean or for whatever purpose, and when morning came we could come back to see what we could do. From the moment we had met him, Dobbin had been insistent about the danger. There might be danger or there might be none-there was no way, certainly, that we could determine if there were or weren’t. The only sensible thing, at the moment, was to go along with him.
I swung swiftly to the saddle and even before I found seat, Dobbin had whirled about, running even as he led.
“We have lost most valued time,” he told me. “We will try with valiance to make it up. We yet may reach the city.”
A good part of the landing field lay in shadow now and only the sky was bright. A faint, smokelike dusk was filtering through the city.
Once on this planet, Dobbin had said, no one ever leaves. But these were his words alone, and nothing else. Perhaps there was a real intent to keep us here, which would explain the sealing of the ship, but there would be ways, I told myself, that could be tried to get off the planet when the time to go should come. There were always ways.
The city was looming up as we drew closer, and now the buildings began to assume their separate shapes. Up till now they had been a simple mass that had the appearance of a solid cliff thrusting up from the flatness of the field. They had seemed tall from out in the center of the field; now they reared into the sky so far that, this close, it was impossible to follow with the eye up to their tops.
The city still stayed dead. There were no lights in any of the windows-if, indeed, the buildings did have windows. There was no sign of movement at the city’s base. There were no outlying buildings; the field ran up to the base of the buildings and the buildings then jutted straight into the sky.
The hobbies thundered cityward, their rockers pounding out a ringing clangor as they humped along like a herd of horses galloping wildly before a scudding storm front. Once you got the hang of riding them, it wasn’t bad at all. You just went sort of loose and let your body follow that undulating sine wave.
The city walls loomed directly in front of us, great slabs of masonry that went up and up, and now I saw that there were streets, or at least what I took for streets, narrow slits of empty blackness that looked like fractures in a monstrous cliff.
The hobbies plunged into one of the slits of emptiness and darkness closed upon us. There was no light here; except when the sun stood straight overhead, there never would be light. The walls seemed to rise all about us, the slit that was a street narrowing down to a vanishing point so that the walls seemed on every hand.
Ahead of us one building stood a little farther back, widening the street, and from the level of the street a wide ramp ran up to massive doors. The hobbies turned and flung themselves at the ramp and went humping up it and through one of the gaping doors.
We burst into a room where there was a little light and the light, I saw, came from great rectangular blocks set into the wall that faced us.
The hobbies rocked swiftly toward one of the blocks and came to a halt before it. To one side I saw a gnome, or what appeared to be a gnome, a small, humpbacked, faintly humanoid creature that spun a dial set into the wall beside the slab of glowing stone.
“Captain, look!” cried Sara.
There was no need for her to cry out to me-and I had seen it almost as soon as she had. Upon the glowing stone appeared a scene-a faint and shadowed scene, as if it might be a place at the bottom of a clear and crystal sea, its colors subdued by the depth of water, its outlines shifting with the little wind ripples that ran on the water’s surface.
A raw and bleeding landscape, with red lands stretching to a mauve, storm-torn horizon, broken by crimson buttes, and in the foreground a clump of savage yellow flowers. But even as I tried to grasp all this, to relate it to the kind of world it might have been, it changed, and in its place was a jungle world, drowned in the green and purple of overwhelming vegetation, spotted by the flecks of screaming color that I knew were tropic flowers, and back of it all a sense of lurking bestiality that made my hide crawl even as I looked at it.
Then it, too, was gone-a glimpse and it was gone-and in its place was a yellow desert lighted by a moon and by a flare of stars that turned the sky to silver, with the lips of the marching sand dunes catching and fracturing the moon and starlight so that the dunes appeared to be foaming waves of water charging in upon the land.
The desert did not fade as the other places had. It came in a rush upon us and exploded in my face.
Beneath me I felt the violent plunging of a bucking Dobbin and made a frantic grab at the cantle of the saddle which seemed to have no cantle and then felt myself pitched forward and turning in the air.
I struck on one shoulder and skidded in the sand and finally came to rest, the breath knocked out of me. I struggled up, cursing-or trying to curse and failing, because I had no breath to curse with-and once on my feet, saw that we were alone in that land we had seen upon the glowing block.
Sara sprawled to one side of me and not far off Tuck was struggling to his feet, hampered by the cassock that had become entangled about his legs, and a little beyond Tuck, George was crawling on his hands and knees, whimpering like a pup that had been booted out of doors into a friendless. frigid night.
All about us lay the desert, desiccated, without a shred of vegetation, flooded by the great white moon and the thousand glowing stars, all shining like lamps in a cloudless sky.
“He’s gone!” George was whimpering as he crawled about. “I can’t hear him anymore. I have lost my friend.”
And that was not all that was lost. The city was lost and the planet on which the city stood. We were in another place. This was one trip, I told myself, that I never should have made. I had known it all along. I’d not believed in it, even from the start. And to make a go of it, you had to believe in everything you did. You had to have a reason for everything you did.
Although, I recalled, I had really no choice.
I had been committed from the moment I had seen that beauty of a spaceship standing on the field of Earth.
TWO
I had come sneaking back to Earth. Not back really, for I never had been there to start with. But Earth was where my money was and Earth was sanctuary and out in space I was fair game to anyone who found me. Not that what I had done had been actually so bad, nor was I to blame entirely, but there were a lot of people who had lost their shirts on it and, they were out to get me and eventually would get me if I failed to reach Earth’s sanctuary.