Islands of Space John W. Campbell (best ereader for manga .txt) 📖

He was totally unconscious of the humor in the thing. He said: ‘I’ve got to go to more lectures. I’ve been losing a lot of sleep.’

“He intended them to be totally disconnected thoughts, but the rest of us knew his habits, and we almost knocked ourselves out laughing.

“I was just wondering what would happen if a Nansalian were to drop off in class. They’d probably have to call an ambulance or something to carry him home!”

Fuller looked at the giant. “I doubt it. One of his classmates would just tuck him under his arm and take him on home⁠—or to the next lecture. Remember, they only weigh about four hundred pounds on Nansal, which is no more to them than fifty pounds is to us.”

“True enough,” Wade agreed. “But you know, I’d hate to have him wrap those arms of his about me. He might get excited, or sneeze or something, and⁠—squish!”

“You and your morbid imagination.” Fuller sat down in one of the seats. “Let’s see if we can’t get a three-way conversation going; this guy is interesting.”

Arcot and Morey awoke nearly three hours later, and the Earthmen ate their breakfast, much to Torlos’ surprise.

“I can understand that you need far more food than we do,” he commented, “but you only ate a few hours ago. It seems like a tremendous amount of food to me. How could you possibly grow enough in your cities?”

“So that’s why they don’t have any farms!” Fuller said.

“Our food is grown out on the plains outside the cities, where there is room,” Arcot explained. “It’s difficult, but we have machines to help us. We could never have developed the cone type of city you have, however, for we need huge huge quantities of food. If we were to seal ourselves inside our cities as your people have to protect themselves from enemies, we would starve to death very quickly.”

“You know,” Morey said, “I’ll have to admit that Torlos’ people are a higher type of creation than we are. Man, and all other animals on Earth, are parasites of the plant world. We’re absolutely incapable of producing our own foods. We can’t gather energy for ourselves. We’re utterly dependent on plants.

“But these men aren’t⁠—at least not so much so. They at least generate their own muscular energy by extracting heat from the air they breathe. They combine all the best features of plants, reptiles, and mammals. I don’t know where they’d be classified biologically!”

After the meal, they went to the control room and strapped themselves into the control seats. Arcot checked the fuel gauge.

“We have plenty of lead left,” he said to Morey, “and Torlos has assured me that we will be able to get more on Nansal. I suggest we show him how the space control works, so that he can tell the Nansalian scientists about it from personal experience.

“In this sun’s gravitational field, we’ll lose a lot of power, but as long as it can be replaced, we’re all right.”

Turning to the Nansalian, Arcot pointed out towards the little spark of light that was Torlos’ home planet. “Keep your eyes on that, Torlos. Watch it grow when we use our space control drive.”

Arcot pushed the little red switch to the first notch. The air around them pulsed with power for an instant, then space had readjusted itself.

The point that was Nansal grew to a disc, and then it was swiftly leaping toward them, welling up to meet them, expanding its bulk with awesome speed. Torlos watched it tensely.

There was a sudden splintering crash, and Arcot jerked open the circuit in alarm. They were almost motionless again as the stars reeled about them.

Torlos had been nervous. Like any man so effected, he had unconsciously tightened his muscles. His fingers had sunk into the hard plastic of the arm rest on his chair, and crushed it as though it had been put between the jaws of a hydraulic press!

“I’m glad we weren’t holding hands,” said Wade, eyeing the broken plastic.

“I am very sorry,” Torlos thought humbly. “I did not intend to do that. I forgot myself when I saw that planet rushing at me so fast.” His chagrin was apparent on his face.

Arcot laughed. “It is nothing, Torlos. We are merely astonished at the terrific strength of your hand. Wade wasn’t worried; he was joking!”

Torlos looked relieved, but he looked at the splintered arm rest and then at his hand. “It is best that I keep my too-strong hands away from your instruments.”

The ship was falling toward Nansal at a relatively slow rate, less than four miles a second. Arcot accelerated toward the planet for two hours, then began to decelerate. Five hundred miles above the planet’s surface, their velocity cut the ship into a descending spiral orbit to allow the atmosphere to check their speed.

The outer lux hull began to heat up, and he closed the relux screens to cut down the radiation from it. When he opened them again, the ship was speeding over the broad plains of the planet.

Torlos told Arcot that by far the greater percentage of the surface of Nansal was land. There was still plenty of water, for their seas were much deeper than those of Earth. Some of the seas were thirty miles deep over broad areas⁠—hundreds of square miles. As if to compensate, the land surfaces were covered with titanic mountain ranges, some of them over ten miles above sea level.

Torlos, his eyes shining, directed the Earthmen to his home city, the capital of the world-nation.

“Is there no traffic between the cities here, Torlos?” Morey asked. “We haven’t seen any ships.”

“There’s continuous traffic,” Torlos replied, “but you have come in far to the north, well away from the regularly scheduled routes. The commerce must be densely populated with warships as well, and both warships and commercial craft are made to look as much alike as possible so that the enemy can not know when ships of war are present and when they are not, and their attacks