“We’re a long way from the sun. And we’ll point her out, toward Pluto. We’ll get control eventually. You don’t want to unvolunteer, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“How about the rest of you?” Carmichel said, to Basset and Siller. “You’re still coming along?”
“Certainly.” Basset was stepping cautiously into his spacesuit. “We’re coming.”
“Make sure you seal your helmet completely.” Carmichel helped him fasten his leggings. “Your shoes, next.”
“Commander,” Groves said, “they’re finishing on the vidscreen. I wanted it installed so we could establish contact. We might need some help getting back.”
“Good idea.” Carmichel went over, examining the leads from the screen. “Self-contained power unit?”
“For safety’s sake. Independent from the ship.”
Carmichel sat down before the vidscreen, clicking it on. The local monitor appeared. “Get me the Garrison Station on Mars. Commander Vecchi.”
The call locked through. Carmichel began to lace his boots and leggings while he waited. He was lowering his helmet into place when the screen I glowed into life. Vecchi’s dark features formed, lean-jawed above his scarlet uniform.
“Greetings, Commander Carmichel,” he murmured. He glanced curiously at Carmichel’s suit. “You are going on a trip, Commander?”
“We may visit you. We’re about to take the captured Gany ship up. If everything goes right I hope to set her down at your field, sometime later today.”
“We’ll have the field cleared and ready for you.”
“Better have emergency equipment on hand. We’re still unsure of the controls.”
“I wish you luck.” Vecchi’s eyes flickered. “I can see the interior of your ship. What drive is it?”
“We don’t know yet. That’s the problem.”
“I hope you will be able to land, Commander.”
“Thanks. So do we.” Carmichel broke the connection. Groves and Siller were already dressed. They were helping Basset tighten the screw locks of his earphones.
“We’re ready,” Groves said. He looked through the port. Outside a circle of officers watched silently.
“Say good-bye,” Siller said to Basset. “This may be our last minute on Terra.”
“Is there really much danger?”
Groves sat down beside Carmichel at the control board. “Ready?” His voice came to Carmichel through his phones.
“Ready.” Carmichel reached out his gloved hand, toward the switch marked mel. “Here we go. Hold on tight!”
He grasped the switch firmly and pulled.
They were falling through space.
“Help!” Doctor Basset shouted. He slid across the up-ended floor, crashing against a table. Carmichel and Groves hung on grimly, trying to keep their places at the board.
The globe was spinning and dropping, settling lower and lower through a heavy sheet of rain. Below them, visible through the port, was a vast rolling ocean, an endless expanse of blue water, as far as the eye could see. Siller stared down at it, on his hands and knees, sliding with the globe.
“Commander, where—where should we be?”
“Someplace off Mars. But this can’t be Mars!”
Groves flipped the brake rocket switches, one after another. The globe shuddered as the rockets came on, bursting into life around them.
“Easy does it,” Carmichel said, craning his neck to see through the port. “Ocean? What the hell—”
The globe leveled off, shooting rapidly above the water, parallel to the surface. Siller got slowly to his feet, hanging onto the railing. He helped Basset up. “Okay, Doc?”
“Thanks.” Basset wobbled. His glasses had come off inside his helmet. “Where are we? On Mars already?’
“We’re there,” Groves said, “but it isn’t Mars.”
“But I thought we were going to Mars.”
“So did the rest of us.” Groves decreased the speed of the globe cautiously. “You can see this isn’t Mars.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know. We’ll find out, though. Commander, watch the starboard jet. It’s overbalancing. Your switch.”
Carmichel adjusted. “Where do you think we are? I don’t understand it. Are we still on Terra? Or Venus?”
Groves flicked the vidscreen on. “I’ll soon find out if we’re on Terra.” He raised the all-wave control. The screen remained blank. Nothing formed.
“We’re not on Terra.”
“We’re not anywhere in the System.” Groves spun the dial. “No response.”
“Try the frequency of the big Mars Sender.”
Groves adjusted the dial. At the spot where the Mars Sender should have come in there was—nothing. The four men gaped foolishly at the screen. All their lives they had received the familiar sanguine faces of Martian announcers on that wave. Twenty-four hours a day. The most powerful sender in the System. Mars Sender reached all the nine planets, and even out into deep-space. And it was always on the air.
“Lord,” Basset said. “We’re out of the System.”
“We’re not in the System,” Groves said. “Notice the horizontal curve—This is a small planet we’re on. Maybe a moon. But it’s no planet or moon I’ve ever seen before. Not in the System, and not the Proxima area either.”
Carmichel stood up. “The units must be big multiples, all right. We’re out of the System, perhaps all the way around the galaxy.” He peered out the port at the rolling water.
“I don’t see any stars,” Basset said.
“Later on we can get a star reading. When we’re on the other side, away from the sun.”
“Ocean,” Siller murmured. “Miles of it. And a good temperature.” He removed his helmet cautiously. “Maybe we won’t need these after all.”
“Better leave them on until we can make an atmosphere check,” Groves said. “Isn’t there a check tube on this bubble?”
“I don’t see any,” Carmichel said.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. If we—”
“Sir!” Siller exclaimed. “Land.”
They ran to the port. Land was rising into view, on the horizon of the planet. A long low strip of land, a coastline. They could see green; the land was fertile.
“I’ll turn her a little right,” Groves said, sitting down at the board. He adjusted the controls. “How’s that?”
“Heading right toward it,” Carmichel sat down beside him. “Well, at least we won’t drown. I wonder where we are. How will we know? What if the star map can’t be equated? We can take a spectroscopic analysis, try to find a known star—”
“We’re almost there,” Basset said nervously. “You better slow us down, General. We’ll crash.”
“I’m doing the best I can. Any mountains or peaks?”
“No. It seems quite flat. Like a plain.”
The globe dropped lower and lower, slowing down. Green scenery whipped past below them. Far off a row of meager hills came finally into view. The globe was barely skimming, now, as the two pilots fought to bring it to a stop.
“Easy, easy,” Groves murmured. “Too fast.”
All the brakes were firing. The globe was a bedlam of noise, knocked back and forth as the jets fired. Gradually it lost velocity, until it was almost hanging in the sky. Then it sank, like a toy balloon, settling slowly down to the green plain below.
“Cut the rockets!”
The pilots snapped their switches. Abruptly all sound ceased. They looked at each other.
“Any moment…” Carmichel murmured.
Plop!
“We’re down,” Basset said. “We’re down.”
They unscrewed the hatch cautiously, their helmets tightly in place. Siller held a Boris gun ready, as Groves and Carmichel swung the heavy rexenoid disc back. A blast of warm air rolled into the globe, swelling around them.
“See anything?” Basset said.
“Nothing. Level fields. Some kind of planet.” The General stepped down onto the ground. “Tiny plants! Thousands of them. I don’t know what kind.”
The other men stepped out, their boots sinking into the moist soil. They looked around them.