The First Scientist agreed. “But first Carlee, as a doctor. And then we shall bring out the others. You are leaving soon?”
“We’ll tell you before we go. And we don’t intend to go far. Maybe a turn into that valley up ahead, and then along the shore for a mile or so. We may have landed in a wilderness—indications point to that—but I want to be sure.
Until a sun breaking through the clouds overhead said it was noon they were hard at work. The sled, Dard discovered, was just what its name implied, a flat vehicle possessing two seats each wide enough for two passengers, with a space behind for supplies. He helped to assemble the larger sections while Kimber and Gully sweated and swore over the business of installing the engine.
It was a flying craft Dard realized, but totally unlike a ‘copter or rocket, and he did not see what would make it air borne without blades or tubes. When he said as much to Rogan the techneer leaned back against a convenient sand dune to combine rest and explanation.
“I can’t tell you how it works, kid. The principle’s something really new. They whipped that engine together during the last months we were in the Cleft. But it’s some sort of anti-gravity. Takes you up and keeps you there until you shut it off. Broadcasts a beam which sends you along by pushing against the earth. If they had had the time they might have powered the ship with it. But there was only this one experimental sled built and we had to depend upon power we knew more about. How about it, Sim? Getting her together?”
The pilot smiled through a streak of grease which turned his brown skin black.
“Tighten that one bolt, Cully,” he pointed out the necessary adjustment, “and, she’s ready to lift! Or at least she should be. We’ll try her.”
He boarded the shallow craft and settled himself behind the controls, buckling a safety belt around his hips before he triggered the motor. The sled zoomed straight up with a speed which sent the spectators sprawling and tore an exclamation from the pilot. Then, under Kimber’s expert hand, it leveled off and swung in a wide circle about the star ship. Finishing off the test flight with a figure eight, Kimber brought the sled back to a slow and studied landing on the now dry sand at the foot of the ramp.
“Bravo!”
That encouraging cheer came from the open hatch.
Kordov beamed down at them and with him, one hand on the rail, her head lifted so that the sun made a red-glory of the braids wreathing it, was a woman. Dard stared up at her with no thought of rudeness. This was the Carlee who had taken care of Dessie.
But she was younger than he had expected, younger and somehow fragile. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, and when she smiled at them, it was with a patient acceptance, which hurt. Kimber broke the silence as she joined the party below.
“What do you think, Carlee?” he asked matter-of-factly, as if they had parted only the hour before and no tragedy lay between. “Would you trust yourself to this crazy flyer?”
“With the right pilot at the controls, yes.” And then looking at each one she spoke their names slowly as if reassuring herself that they were really there. “Les Rogan, Jorge Cully and”—She reached Dard, hesitated, before her smile brightened-“why, you must be Dessie’s Dard, Dard Nordis! Oh, this is good—so good—“ She looked beyond the men at the cliffs, the sea, the blue-green sky arching over them.
“Now-before you start off, explorers,” Kordov announced, “there is food to be eaten.”
The food was fish again, together with quarter portions of the concentrate cakes and some capsules Kordov insisted they take. When they were finished the First Scientist turned to Kimber.
“Now that you have that sky-buggy of yours put together you will be off?”
“Yes. There are four, maybe five hours of daylight left. I think that a survey from the air would show us more in that length of time than a trip on foot.”
“You say “us.” Whom do you take with you?” asked Carlee.
“Rogan—he’s had experience on Venus. And “
Dard held his tongue. He could not beg to go; Kimber would choose Cully, of course. The pilot didn’t want a green hand. He was so sure of that choice that he could hardly believe it when he heard Kimber say;
“And the kid—he’s light weight. We don’t want to overload if we haul back game or specimens, too. Cully’s a crack shot and I’ll feel safer to leave him on guard here.”
“Good enough!” Kordov agreed. “Just do not voyage too far, and do not fall off that silly ship of yours—to land on your heads. We have no time to waste patching up explorers who do not know enough to keep themselves right side up!”
Thus Dard found himself sharing the pilot’s seat on the sled with Rogan crawling in behind. Kimber insisted that they buckle their safety belts under his supervision and he tested their fastenings before they took off. The rise of the light craft was not so abrupt as the first time and Kimber did not try to get much above the level of the cliff tops.
They skimmed along only a few feet above the rock as they flashed north, the curving shoreline as their guide.
From this height he had a good view to the west, seeing most of the wide valley through which the red river flowed. The low vegetation they sighted from the ship thickened into clumps of good-sized trees. And among these were flying things which did not appear to be dragons.
Along the edge of the sea the cliff rose in an unbroken, perpendicular wall. Apparently the star ship had earthed in the only opening in it. For from the elevation of the sled they could sight nothing but that barrier of brilliantly hued stone dividing vegetation and low land from the heating sea.
Rogan cried out and a moment later Dard, too, cringed as a ray of light struck painfully into his eyes. It flashed up from sea level, as if a mirror had been used to direct the sunlight straight at them. Kimber brought the sled around and ventured out over the water in a sweep designed to bring them to the source of that light.
There was a scrap of beach, a few feet of sand across which the weed, driven up by the storm, lay. Kimber, with infinite caution, maneuvered to set them down there.
When the sled jolted to earth its occupants stared in open amazement at the source of the mirrored ray.
Protruding from the face of the cliff, as if from a pocket or hollow especially fashioned to contain it, was a cone-shaped section of metal. And not metal in a crude, unworked state, but of a finely fashioned and refined alloy!
Dard split a fingernail on the buckle which fastened his belt in his haste to get to the find. But Kimber was already halfway across the sand before he gained his feet. The three, not quite daring to touch, studied the peculiar object.
Kimber squatted down to peer under it. There was a thin ring of similar metal encircling the widest part of the cone, as if it rested within a tube.
“A bullet in a rifle barrel!” Rogan found a comparison which was none too reassuring. “This a shell?”
“I don’t think so.” Kimber pulled gently at the tip.
“Let’s see if we can work it out.” From the sled he brought an assortment of tools.
“Take it easy,” Rogan eyed these preparations askance. “If it is an explosive, and we do the wrong thing—we’re apt to finish up in pieces.”
“It isn’t a shell,” Kimber repeated stubbornly. “And it’s been here a long time. See that?” He pointed to fresh scars on the cliff face. “That’s a recent break. Maybe the storm tore that down and uncovered this. Now-a little probing.”
They worked gingerly at first, and then, when nothing happened, with more confidence—until they had it out far enough to see that the cone was only the tip of a long cylinder. Finally they hooked a chain to it and used the power of the sled to draw it completely free of the tube.
Six feet long, it lay half in, half out of the water, a sealed opening showing midway in its length. Kimber knelt down before the tube and flashed his hand-light inside. As far as they could see ran a tunnel lined with seamless metal.
“What in the name of Space is it, anyway?” Hogan wondered.
“Some form of transportation, I would say.” Kimber still held the light inside as if by wishing alone he could deduce the destination of their discovery.
Hogan prodded the cylinder with his foot and it rolled slightly. The techneer stooped and tugged at the end in the sand. To his astonishment he was able to lift it several inches above the beach.