A Touch of Eternity by Clark Darlton

The only thing that distinguished them from this seeming lifelessness was their own time ratio. It had only been with the help of antigravity fields and by passing the relative light-speed of the local time dimension, which was about 2.5 miles per second, that they had been able to bring objects or life forms here into their own ratio of time.

The physicist Fritz Steiner and the biologist Ivan Ragov stood off a little to one side on the edge of the plateau. Hypnotist André Noir was with them. On the stony ground between them crouched a curious creature whose movements were normal from their own standpoint. It was one of the Druufs which had been brought up to the human time-ratio in order to be studied. With Noir’s help a kind of communication had been established. Noir would generate in the alien creature’s brain a thought picture or mental image which would then indicate to the creature what the men wanted to know. The conversation was a bit one-sided but the accomplishment in itself was surprising enough.

Meanwhile, Fred Harras was operating the hypercom transmitter from the K-7, which had also been brought into normal time. He kept the distress signal going constantly in the forlorn hope that somebody, somewhere, would hear it.

And meanwhile the meteorologist, Josua, had again taken up guard duty in the area where the Gazelle was assumed to be located—in the other time dimension. It was here that they had entered this world and if there were ever to be an exit from it, it would have to appear in this place. The small light window had disappeared 8 days ago. That is, 8 days of Earth time. Because in this world the local time-rate would require easily 200 years to equal an Earth day, if the calculations were correct.

“I’ve asked him why his companions attacked us,” Noir was saying, somewhat pensively. “If I interpret his answering signals right, he’s denying the whole thing. He had nothing to do with the attacks.”

“He’s lying!” snorted Steiner, observing the strange creature that crouched between them.

It stood about 5 feet high and looked something like a giant caterpillar with stubby wings. Close below the insect-like head were 2 rather delicate grasping appendages, whereas the other limbs could be considered as a means of locomotion.

“Naturally,” Steiner concluded, “he’s afraid well hold him responsible for the attack.”

“But perhaps he is speaking the truth,” suggested Ragov as he looked beyond the Druuf. “Premature judgments have caused a lot of injustices.”

“There aren’t any other intelligent beings on this world.” Steiner stuck to his thesis and if Noir hadn’t stepped into the argument the whole heated debate between the 2 scientists would have started up again.

“Please, gentlemen! Rash judgment is just as damaging as failing to recognize the gravity of a situation. It is true, of course, that these super caterpillars are the only intelligent form of life we’ve found on this Crystal World but that fact by no means precludes the possibility that other forms exist here. Frankly I find the idea of being attacked merely by these creatures to be a bit strange—especially considering the use of controlled time decelerators that enabled them to make us become visible to their eyes. However it may be, one thing is certain: that is that we are no longer safe here, even though everything moves 72000 times slower than we do.”

Lt. Rous came striding across the plateau and joined them. He wore a deep frown of concern while only granting the Druuf a sceptical side-glance. “We finally assembled the hypercom receiver too,” he said. “So far Harras hasn’t gotten any answer to his signals. So it seems certain that nobody but ourselves exists in this alien time-plane.”

“Why don’t the Druufs pick up our calls?” Steiner wanted to know.

Rous shrugged. “I thought you might have found the answer by now. Haven’t the prisoners given you any information yet? Maybe they use another kind of radio equipment or communication principle.”

“This fellow here is stubborn,” grumbled Steiner indignantly. “He maintains that the attack came from another source.”

Noir straightened up slowly. “Do you know what, Lieutenant?” he said as he folded his arms on his chest. “I feel exactly the same as Ragov does, that we’re on the wrong track. These beings that we refer to as the Druufs—are not the Druufs at all.”

Rous raised his brows questioningly. Steiner snorted scornfully, while Ragov nodded in agreement.

Noir continued. “The real intelligences of this time-plane look different. I can’t be certain of it but this caterpillar here finally understands what I’m trying to say to it. From its reactions I can conclude with a fair degree of certainty that it’s as surprised as we are about the attack. And equally disturbed. Lieutenant, I’m afraid we’re wasting our time. We’re making the same mistake that alien space travellers would be making if they landed on the Earth and tried to interrogate dogs and cows concerning the political situation on the planet.”

“Hm-m-m…” murmured Rous and began to regard the caterpillar with a somewhat heightened interest. “So what you’re saying is, we are threatened by something ‘over there’?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, sir. And even if time goes slower for the unknown enemy, nevertheless events eventually do take place! I’m convinced they’ve already regrouped themselves for a new attack against us. Don’t forget: 1 of their seconds is 20 hours to us!”

“Since we’ve been in this place then, to their time perception hardly more than 10 seconds have passed,” said Rous thinking out loud. “If we also remember that there’s already been an attack we have to realize how fast the intelligences of this world can react. Maybe our time-conversion arithmetic isn’t entirely precise but there’s no doubt that it’s approximately correct. So I think on that basis we can expect another attack soon. What can we do to defend ourselves?”

“We are faster than they are,” said Steiner. “We’ll dodge them.”

“The relative speed of sound in this time-plane amounts to about 1 foot per minute,” Rous reminded him, “but we know that if they use a protective energy field they can achieve their own light-speed even within the atmosphere—and that’s 2.5 miles per second, which is pretty fast even for us. So eluding anything at that speed isn’t exactly playing games. One of these times the enemy may surprise us.”

Before anybody could give a reply Rous’ radio receiver buzzed on his armband. The tiny apparatuses kept everyone in touch with each other. He touched a button and spoke into the mini-mike: “Who’s that?”

“Josua!” The African’s voice came from about 60 miles away. “The light window—it’s back again! But…”

It came to Rous like a thunderbolt. For a brief instant everything swam before his eyes and his hands groped for support. “What?” he called, flabbergasted. “The energy-ring is there again?”

“Yes—but it’s bigger! At least 200 yards in diameter!”

Rous turned to Steiner, Ragov and Noir. “Quick! Back to the K-7 on the double! Into your Arkonide suits! We’re flying to Josua at once!” Then he spoke again into the tiny microphone. “We’re coming right away, Josua! Keep on reporting and I’ll keep the receiver open!”

Rous’ mind raced. It was out of the question to try using the K-7 because it had not yet been converted back to normal time. With its present unimaginable mass it was subject to the natural laws of the alien time-plane and thus was as good as immovable.

There was no alternative but to bring the crew separately to the life saving light-ring with the help of the Arkonide battle-suits. However, in order to insure that the energy-ring generator would continue to function…

Rous’ thought train came to a jarring halt.

What had Josua said?

200 yards in diameter…?

Only now did Rous begin to comprehend that something of colossal import had occurred. This certainly wasn’t the old generator that was creating an exit opening for them but an entirely new one. The old light window had only been a few yards in diameter. Bewildered but with hopes soaring, he stumbled after Steiner, Ragov and Noir, who were running toward the K-7. He didn’t notice that the giant caterpillar followed him with a smooth, gliding movement.

Moreover he was distracted by Josua. The other’s voice was not coming in with much volume but it nevertheless emerged clearly enough from the mini-speaker in Rous’ armband radio:

“…incredible…! A spherical ship—it can’t be anything else—it’s ploughing through the window! It’s coming to a halt—altitude around 1000 feet!”

Rous almost collapsed.

A spherical ship!

That could only be Rhodan! He was overwhelmed with joy. Rhodan had not left them in the lurch!

As fast as he could, he raced to the nearby rocks where Harras had assembled his radio station. The technician had already been picking up Josua’s transmissions. The latter’s face was on the screen when Rous arrived.

“Normal transmission!” Rous shouted to him. “Call Rhodan! Simultaneous reception!”

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