The Way Back

Future combined with Science. Fiction Stories - November , 1951

(1951) *

Margaret St. Clair

What does it mean when your destination suddenly vanishes?

-

“THE MEETING is open for suggestions,” said the cap tain.

First mate Morris knotted his fin gers together. “The real problem, sir, is, what’s going to be the effect of our news on people? The Eirene was sent out to open people’s minds to new possibilities, new horizons, and to di vert their energies—” his tongue seemed to stumble momentarily— “to divert them, unh, from the wrong kind of thing. And when we get back and tell them …”

“There’s certainly a strong popular belief in Martians,” Dr. Hami lton said softly. “The public is going to resent being de prived of such favorite characters.”

“Martians!” First mate Morris spoke with scorn. “If that were all—”

“I can’t believe it yet,” third mate Jeans interrupted. “It’s always been seen through telescopes. Why, when I was a kid I had a little telescope, and I used to watch it. It went through regular phases from full to crescent. I don’t understand. I can’t under stand.”

As if his words had released them, they all began talking, the eighteen voices of the crew of the Eirene. “The dynamics ... the balance of the solar system … optical illusion ... the dy namics ... the dynamics …”

The babble increased until Captain Symmonds had to rap desperately on his desk, for order. “Quiet! Quiet! Yes, Dr. Hamilton?”

“We certainly landed on Mars,” sa id the doctor. There was a faint smile on his thin face. “Nobody denies that, do they?”

“No,” the captain replied briefly. “The artifacts are in the hold.”

“Yes, Mars is all right,” said the doctor. “But Venus?”

Silence. First mate Morris cracked his knuck les. Silence.

“It wasn’t there,” the captain said at last.

-

A little before the meeting on the Eirene, Nannthor came in from prime space raft . He had a special report to make to the council.

“They have had a great shock,” was the gist of it. “Their minds are open; it i s a great opportunity. What we failed to do with a planet, we can do for a small number. Or we can send them back.” He stood at attention when he had finished.

There was a wordless, voiceless, con sultation in the vaulted council cham ber. Co uncil members, even more than the ordinary run of Venusians, are telepaths. Nannthor felt their thoughts beating like wings around his head. At last the sense of the meeting emerged.

“No,” came the answer to Nannthor, “that would be cruel. What would be come of them? But we will take ad vantage of the opportunity; we have another plan.”

-

“Last night I dreamed about that planet w e were hunting,” said third mate Jeans of the Eirene, two days after the meeting.

“Yeah?” said second mate Thomp son. They bun ked in the same tiny stateroom, and both were at present off duty. “What was it like?”

“Oh, like we thought it would be. A double star, blue and gold, very bright. Beautiful. But—you know how dreams are— I knew something awful was going to happen. I got sc ared looking at it.”

Second mate Thompson put aside the tri-di chess problem he had been working on. “Did anything happen?” he asked, with more interest than ac counts of dreams are usually accorded.

“No. Not really. It was just about to. But I woke up.”

-

I N THE mess hall, Captain Sym monds and the doctor were argu ing. The doctor on a space ship stands on a different level from the rest of the crew, and is consequently more immune to discipline. Hamilton was pressing his advantage.

“No, I won’t let you hypnotize me,” Symmonds said irritably. “Or any of the crewmen, for that matter. This is the third time you’ve asked me. Why? Why do you want to so much?”

“Scientific curiosity,” Hamilton said, grinning faintly. “Or, putting it another way, I wan t to find out why none of us is acting like himself.”

“The answer’s easy; we’ve had a terrific shock.”

“Yes, but that wouldn’t account for what I mean. Not the sort of thing.”

The mess boy came in with more coffee. Symmonds drank, remember ing at the last minute to take the spoon out of his cup. “Well, what do you mean?” he said challengingly.

“I’ll show you, if you’ll answer my questions … When we started out, could we see Venus—the planet we were hunting—in the viewing plates?”

“Of course.”

“Very well, then. At what point did it become invisible?”

The captain rubbed his head. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember; neither does any of the others, though it’s a point of some interest. Well, do you remem ber looking for it?”

“I—why, of course I do. We beat back and forth in space for days, looking for it; it must be in the log.”

“Maybe. One more thing. Has any body, since that time, tried to pick up the missing planet in the viewers?”

“No. I’ve forbidden it.”

“Why?”

The captain licked his lips. “It would—it would be upsetting to disci pline.”

“Would it? I wonder, now. I’m go ing to try.” Hamilton got out of his chair.

The captain rose too, armored in dignity. “No, you’re not, mister. I’m the master of this vessel; I forbid it.”

Hamilton looked at him keenly. He gave a very slight shrug and sat down again. Captain Symmonds remained standing, his backbone rigid in his white ducks, his cheeks faintly flushed.

-

HAMILTON picked up one of the coffee spoons and began to draw patterns on the tablecloth with it. “This prohibition, captain,” he said without looking up—“how long is it to last?”

“Until we’re home again, mister.”

“Oh. You want to get home?”

“Of course. Tuatha kaiyar tarog .”

“De tarog .” Hamilton blinked and drew in his breath. “You’re right, of course,” he said sardonically. “Home is a wonderful place, and we ‘ll be glad to get there. But—was it English we were speaking then?”

Captain Symmonds tried to glare at him. “Of course it was!” he almost shouted. “You must be going crazy !” Hi s lips shook.

“One more question, sir,” Hamilton said softly and politely, “and I’ll stop tormenting you … You say we’re go ing home. Very well; what is the name of the place?”

The mess boy’s coming in saved the captain the distress of answering. “The as trogator’s compliments, sir.” he said to the captain, “and he wishes to report that we will enter the atmos phere of our target in six hours. We thought you might like to see it in t h e viewing plate.”

Symmonds rose with alacrity and started toward the pil ot room. Hamil ton, uninvited, followed him. His hands were in his pockets, and he was whistling.

The planet filled the viewing plate. A curvature was distinctly visible. Three-quarters of its bulk was illumi nated, and it was radiantly, dazzlingly, bright .

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said the cap tain. “Drop in a couple more screens, Jacks. It hurts my eyes.” He smiled at the image as the screens slid into place.

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” Jacks agreed. “It’s a pretty idea, sir, to think that our planet is like a b eautiful woman who unveils herself only to her lovers. To the rest of the world, she keeps her beauties veiled in clouds.”

“An attractive fancy,” Symmonds said indulgently. The conversation slid into technicalities. Symmonds ended it by saying, “It will be good to get home again.”

Hamilton, in the background, made a strangled noise.

-

They made contact with the atmos phere in the predicted six hours, but it took them much more than that length of time to get through the clouds. Just outside of the planet’s gravitational grip they passed one of the space rafts, those supreme achieve ments of home science, and exchanged signals and information with it, but as soon as the Eirene got into the cloud layer, she had to fly blind. There was a long period of anxiou s questions, of data fed into the calcu lators, scrutinized, and then fed i n again, before she reached the ground.

At last the ports were opened. The damp air poured in. And the Eirene’s crew, beaming with pleasure, clam bered out or, too excited to wait, jumped.

The shouting, waving, exultant crowd was all around them. Captain Symmonds was lifted on shoulders, wreathed with flowers, embraced. They carried him away from the land ing field like a conqueror. The noise of che ering was deafening. And as the others followed him they were wel comed with equal generosity. Everyone smiled.

-

HAMILTON alone hung back in the shadow of the port opening. He understood, or at least half under stood; and at this moment of triumph there were tears in his eyes.

Naturally of a skeptical and .satur nine temperament, he had had an ad vantage denied to the others. In the preparations for landing, he had not been needed; he had used the time to disobey Captain Symmonds’ prohibi tion. He had gone in the stern of the ship and, after a good deal of trying, had managed to pick up the missing planet in the viewing plate. Now—at least partially—he understood.

It was simple enough, really. The crew of the spac e ship had been the objects of a vast, benignant, sleight of hand. Kindness, Hamilton thought, must have inspired it; and perhaps the people who now welcomed the Eirene had had something to do with the strange pause in terrestrial war madness which had led to the hopeful, well-omened sending out of the peace ship in the first place. They might well have tried to avert the death of a sister world. For earth—Hamilton had picked up the missing planet at last in the viewer, the planet the Eirene’s crew was con vinced they had been unable to locate. And the planet was earth.

She was stripped of her oceans; she was as dead as a stone, and as barren. Man had destroyed her. The blue and golden star would be blue no longer, and though the moon still circled around he r primary, she rotated about a lifeless world. War had wiped out life on earth.

Hamilton held on to the edge of the port opening, blinking. When he tried hard he could remember, very very dimly, that the crew of the Eirene had seen the atomic explosion in the viewing plate. They had witnessed the death of their home planet. They had been sick with horror, torn with grief and hopelessness.

Their minds—earth minds, usually so closely guarded—had been open, Somehow, they had been pitied; th e cloud of kindly, h ealing falsehood had begun to fall. They had been made to believe that Venus, or at any rate the planet to which they had been travel ling, had eluded them, and that they were on their way home. They had come home now; but it was not to earth.

What good di d his knowledge do him? Hamilton hated it. It was like a disease. He would forget it, let it slip from him. He would yield to the in fluence as the others had yielded; he would let the massed power of the minds on the planet where the Eirene had landed mak e him one of them.

Meantime, the Venusians had caught sight of him in the shadow. They crowded about the port waving, call ing, throwing bright flowers at him. “Welcome home!” they shouted to the last voyager in their lovely voices, “Oh, welcome home!”

The End

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The Way Back