CHA P TE R NINE
The Great
Barrier
Taken far down below, tier after tier, Charlie
found himself ten decks below the top control dome. Dondee was far
above, somewhere else. But there was one great consolation now for
Charlie, because he was again with Navajo.
As he thought of it, patting the old horse gently,
Navajo gave another low whinny, to show his pleasure at their
reunion.
"It sure is, Nav! It sure is swell to get locked up
with you, instead of by myself. At least, I know everything there
is to know about you, and I can trust you, Nav. You don't have any
old secrets about Star Projects that you can't let me in on."
Navajo shook his mane vigorously, nuzzling
Charlie's left ear playfully.
"Nav—that tickles!" and as Charlie pulled away, his
face suddenly sobered.
Navajo heard the impulses too, and he stretched out
his neck, his nostrils flaring a little as he sniffed the air, as
when he sensed some danger out on a mountain trip back home.
"Charles—Charles, can you recognize me, Charles?"
Still a little bit sore at Dondee for not telling him the secret,
Charlie wasn't going to answer.
"But I couldn't tell you, Charles," pleaded the
sincere impulse. "I couldn't, Charles, or—or I'd have told you . .
. Charles?"
Charlie reconsidered. After all, Dondee got bawled
out too. Even though he did have strict orders not to mention the
Star Project, he had mentioned it anyway, so he wasn't exactly
trying to hide it from me, Charlie thought to himself. It's just
that he had to do that.
"Charles?"
"Yeah, Dondee, I can hear you all right. I mean,
your thought waves." "Fine! Are you with your animal?" "I sure am!
Nav's right here beside me now." "I am glad of that, Charles. At
least you're better off than I
am." "Why, Dondee?" "I'm up here, alone. On the
central tier. They put me in a
food locker."
Charlie laughed a little.
"At least, you can eat all the grub you
want!"
"That's what the Commander said, Charles. He said
if I look around me in here, that I can find plenty to stuff in my
big
mouth, till I learn to keep it shut."
Charlie laughed again.
"Oh, I heard that," Dondee said. "Your impulse
showed it."
Then Dondee, too, began to laugh and Charlie was
able to note the change in the impulse.
"Charles! I have a good excuse for getting out for
a little while. I can say I want to get down to the chemical on
your tier."
"Chemical?" Charlie repeated.
"Oh," came Dondee's quick response, "I forgot. It's
what your world calls 'the bathroom.' I'll just say I want to go to
the chemical, and since the food locker here doesn't have one,
they'll have to let me out!"
"That's swell!" Charlie agreed.
Dondee had barely finished the impulse when Charlie
caught the impulses Dondee was directing elsewhere. He was raising
a rumpus now, and other impulses were replying to his, and telling
him they'd let him out to go. Then it was only a matter of minutes
later that Dondee came running out of the airlift, smiling proudly
as he ran toward Charlie and Navajo.
"I just asked their permission to go to the
chemical to get out! And besides, the Commander said I could stay
with you since we're entering port soon, if I promised not to touch
any of the instruments or get in anybody's way. I promised,
Charles, for both of us."
Charlie heaved a sigh of relief, glad that they
were both free again and were soon going to land.
"Hey—you never met Navajo? Go on, Dondee. Touch
him, he won't mind. There—like that, just pat him on his
neck—see!"
Dondee laughed a little, patting Navajo again,
while Navajo turned his head around, calmly looking as Dondee
petted him.
"Charles—he's thinking about me,"
Dondee said, "and his impulses just said that he knows I'm friendly
and like him! I don't have a horse, Charles. But I think you will
like
my
animal,
when you see him. He's a crustaco."
"A what?"
"A crustaco. Oh, I know what your world calls them,
crabs I think, Charles. That is what I remember from the animal
records of your world, when we studied them in class."
"A crab—a crustaco, for a pet?"
"Oh sure," Dondee said with a quick grin. "And I
even ride him—my Crustie, that's the name I gave him. He's a really
fine crustaco, too."
"Boy, they must be pretty big crabs, if you can
ride them on your world."
"He's about that high—" and Dondee held out his
hand beneath Navajo's neck, indicating a few inches above
knee-high. "But that's when he's crouched down. When he's crawling
around, then he stands higher. About this high—" and Dondee showed
Charlie again. "He's all smooth white shell, too."
"I never heard of any crab that big, till right
now. Is Crustie a land crab, or can he swim in water too?"
"No, just land. They can go in
water, but all crustacans that live in the water are the smaller
green ones. They're too small to ride, though, Charles. But wait
till you see Crustie— you'll see how nice he is to ride! He's a
little bit like Navajo too. He's got ribs up on the high part of
his smooth back, and he likes it very much when you run your
fingers down it and make a noise like—like, well, sort of a
tap tap tap
sound."
"Oh," Charlie nodded, "I know—like running a stick
along a picket fence, huh?"
"Sure, that's what I meant!" Dondee agreed, seeing
Charlie's clear mental picture in his mind. "Just like a picket
fence."
"Gosh, I'd sure like to see a big crab like
Crustie. Oh—!" and with Charlie's exclamation, he ran over to the
panoramic.
"It's the Barrier, Charles," explained Dondee
following over, "and the moons of my world. The visible ones. See—
there they are, Charles! That's my home, Charles!"
Directly before Charlie was a brilliant blue scene,
an irredescent sun like a great ball of blazing blue glass—bluer
than any blue sky Charlie had ever seen, even in Arizona.
"That's our Sun, Charles, the Sun of our galaxy. It
looks different now, because of the great outer belt of blue
ammonia haze about my world. But even as it is veiled from us,
still it has beauty . .. the clear crystal blue reasoning of the
philosophies."
"It sure has, Dondee," he agreed, though he didn't
quite see the parallel Dondee had drawn.
Then he turned his eyes again to the tremendous
giant, a little over to the right. It was the world of Saturn,
surrounded by its magnificent bands that seemed to spin their great
circles far out to the edge of Time itself. The great tableau was
the Barrier World, the world that Dondee lived in. And staring in
awe, Charlie watched the great shadowed bands as they seemed to
tilt more diagonally. As Dondee jumped for joy, Charlie was silent,
unable to find words to express his wonder at the mighty
scene.
"Charles—we're home! My home and yours, too,
Charles! Soon you'll see everything, and—and see my duplicate, Biri
Biri Bin. And my 'folks,' as you say!"
"That's swell, Dondee. I'm glad you're happy. Even
if it's not my own real home . . ."
Sensing Charlie's homesickness, Dondee turned
closer to him, putting his arm about his shoulders.
"I'm truly sorry, Charles. I forgot you couldn't
feel the same about my world. Maybe, after a little while, you
might like it a little bit, Charles. I hope so."
"Maybe."
"Look, Charles!" Dondee pointed. "The moon Miralda
. . . it's almost like a sun, it's so bright!"
"It sort of looks like a real planet, Dondee. Not a
moon."
"It's our biggest one, and it has life of its own.
As well as some colonists from our world of the Barrier."
"You have nine moons around Saturn, haven't you,
Don-dee?"
"Nine?"
"Oh," Charlie corrected, "maybe I mean eleven. Is
that right?"
"Charles," Dondee said, grinning, "I have news for
you. There are nine major moons in the Barrier sea that are
visible. Just for fun, how many do you think there are
altogether?"
"Others? Oh,
in
the Barrier—ones that can't be
seen from my world . . . oh."
"Yes, Charles, how many?"
"Okay, I'll guess—maybe four or five, even as much
as ten more. Right, Dondee?"
He shook his head slowly from side to side,
enjoying the suspense he was building up in Charlie now.
"Okay, I give up! How many?"
"Seventy-one. There are seventy-one moons, counting
the major ones that are also seen beyond the Barrier."
"Isn't that kind of dangerous—I mean, when we go
through the Barrier to land?"
"Oh no, Charles. We stay on the Magnos until we're
well within the Barrier. Then when we're safely through to our
local air sea, we switch to the anti-gravs and land in the easy
balance of the force field. Incidentally, Charles, the gravity here
on my world is not much stronger than on your own homeland. It's
approximately the same, even though my world is over ninety times
the mass volume of your Little Star, Charles."
"Look, Dondee—the Sun's coming through!" As they
both watched, the Sun's light struck the Barrier, coming down like
the beams of thousands of giant searchlights
slanting through an ocean to light its darkness.
The great discus flagship, having steadily decelerated for many
hours, was now moving at a crawl, or barely over twice the speed of
sound. Now the great ship jerked slightly, adjusting more closely
as it turned in the flux field dominated by the giant Saturn. But
though the far-reaching rings of the Barrier were now engulfing
them, Charlie realized that they must be still many thousands of
miles away, in spite of the solid block in space that loomed ever
greater before them—the Barrier World, mighty island in the spatial
sea.
"Wow!"
"It is beautiful, Charles."
"Just like a million rainbows, Dondee—all changing,
sort of like the colors rolling around in a giant juke box."
Too excited, as he watched the
growing scene in another clearing of space between the Barrier
rings, Dondee didn't think to inquire of Charlie just what the
words
juke box
meant. Whatever it was, he got the intended idea, and grinned
now as Navajo whinnied, also seeming to enjoy the vivid colors that
changed continually.
"It will be only a moment now, Charles, before we
enter the moon fields of the outer ammonia layer of the Barrier—
then you'll get your first feel of riding the Hi Fi Winds."
"The Hi Fi . . . Winds?"
"Yes, Charles. They're the high fidelity strato
streams that carry the hidden moons in their unusual gravity field.
They never change speed or direction, but are constant with the
various moon's gravities, and that's why we call them the Hi Fi
Winds. This is nothing like your small atmosphere,
Charles, for the Barrier World's air sea extends
several thousand miles beyond our surface, unlike the mere two
hundred miles that your Little Star atmosphere blankets above your
surface. And beyond the air belt is the outer ammonia band. That's
why your world's people think our world uninhabitable."
"Stand by for stream
contact
—" came the command impulse from
somewhere far above them in the dome.
“
Stand by—"
"You can hold that grip-safety, Charles, though I
hardly think you'll need it." As Charlie glanced concernedly at
Navajo, Dondee understood. "Oh, he'll be quite all right, Charles.
He has four legs to balance on!"
Then there was an increasing, rocking motion, a
swaying back and forth as the discus flagship rolled easily on the
strato streams. It wasn't too bad, Charlie thought, and Dondee
explained the expert gyro balancing action in the navigation dome,
which made it hardly necessary to hold onto the grip-safety. But as
he released it now, Charlie's feelings went back again, millions of
miles through space, to the life of that time before. Once again in
his mind's eye, Charlie saw the high craggy chocolate mountains,
the tilting majesty of the Arizona horizon 5 and he remembered. It
was a place called home, the Shack, on the banks of the swift and
icy Colorado.
"Charles . . . ?" The fleet memory was gone,
blanked out by the curiously-voiced question of the alien boy, the
unreal paleness of the
Barrier's mist, and the jolting swift turbulence of
the great
flagship's progress out of the Hi Fi Winds.
"This, now, Charles, is like the mists of your
homeland."
"My homeland's got no mist!"
"Oh ... but I thought," Dondee hesitated. "I
thought there was a part of your homeland called England, and that
it was renowned for its misty countryside? But then I guess it must
be on some other world I studied."
"England. . ?" Charlie repeated,
more to himself than to Dondee. "Yes," he said finally, "it
is,
Dondee. I never
thought about it much before ... I mean,
other
countries of my
world."
"You're all on the same space island, aren't you,
Charles? You live and die together, you stand together—or alone.
Whatever you make it, Charles, it's still your world, isn't
it?"
"It sure is," Charlie said, almost
fiercely, feeling a growing affinity for all the countries of his
homeland. "It
sure is
my own world
... all
of it."
Shuddering slightly, the discus flagship swung
round in flux orbit, clearing for the last time before entering
port, the ring through which it had just passed. The brilliant
Sun's light shone on the silver trim of the broad panoramic view
before them. Charlie was suddenly cheered by the Sun, and he smiled
as he looked at Dondee. But Dondee was not looking at him, and he
was not smiling.