GODS OF SPACE
By RAY CUMMINGS
Planetoid-150 was a world of horror.
A star of death, ruled by a weird
and beautiful Earthian goddess.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Spring 1942.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The weird purple glow of the planetoid was apparent now, even tothe naked eye. The end of Roy Atwood's long, lonely journey was athand. In the narrow control-turret of his small spaceship he satgazing. Planetoid-150, in the belt out here, far beyond Mars, was agreat leaden disc now occupying nearly a quarter of the firmament.And the purple glow of the Xarite was puzzling. On Earth, youngAtwood's father had located the treasured substance with a giantelectro-spectroscope; seen it after patient search as a tiny tracery,a faint band upon the prismatic 'graph of the light from this distantworld.
And now Atwood was here, seeking it. Long since he had discardedhis spectroscope, here in the spaceship turret. It had been hiscompass, the identification of Planetoid-150, enabling him to charthis course. It was unnecessary now. He stared, puzzled. Surely theremust be an immense amount of the electroidally active Xarite—thename his father had given it—here on this little world. And allconcentrated almost in one spot, apparently. The weird purple sheenwas intense; a patch down there on the putty-colored surface of thefive-hundred-mile-diameter asteroid. Occasionally he could see itclearly. Then at other times the leaden, sullen, low-hanging cloudmasses of the unknown little world wholly obscured it.
With his journey's end so near, Atwood's heart was pounding. But agrimness was on him. He was a young fellow; just twenty-four thisEarth-summer of 2050, a handsome young giant whose hundred and ninetypounds were stretched over a powerful, yet almost lanky, frame. In theGovernment College of New York, he had been a champion athlete. Whatwould he be here?
Actually, Atwood cared very little what strange form of life mightexist here on Planetoid-150. His was not a trip of scientificexploration. Now that the beginning of Interplanetary travel wasat hand, he was willing to leave all that sort of thing to theprofessional scientists. His was a secret adventure, and so he had ofnecessity come alone. His purpose was to land on this unknown littleworld, and get a small quantity of the treasured Xarite. With thatsafely stored in the foot-long, insulated cylinder which now was readyto strap on his back, he would leave and get back to Earth as speedilyas possible.
It had been a long journey. Atwood contemplated it now as the rounddisc of the asteroid enlarged until it was beneath him, stretchingall across the lower firmament; and he set his anti-gravity platesto resist his fall and verified that the repellent rocket-streams ofelectroidal gases were ready for the final atmospheric descent. Byhis calculation he would emerge from the clouds fairly close to theXarite purple glow. It would be early evening here. He recalled thedetails of Planetoid-150 which had been in the letter to him from hisdead father. Meager details indeed. Dr. Paul Atwood had calculated theasteroid at between five and six hundred miles in diameter.
Then the clouds broke away. Atwood's heart was pounding as he stareddown for his first real sight of the unknown world. At first it wasa blur of deep purple radiance. It seemed to blind him, this weirdglow to which his eyes were unaccus