[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Comet May 41.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
I've seen a world die, and with it men who chose to remain and face theend because of love.
Love of their homes and the soil beneath them and the life they hadachieved. It's a story I believe Earthmen could ponder, and benefitfrom. For we are the youngest of terrestrial civilizations within thespace orbit the Martians have shown us.
I'm Jerry Kos, master navigator, twenty-seven and entitled to threestripes on my jacket to prove I've completed that many six monthsvoyages with the Cosmic Survey. I'm a specialist, holder of the solorecord from Moon to Earth made in 2437, and enjoy spending all my leavein the government preserves, camping in the raw, hiking, fishing,anything I can do by hand, so to speak. Otherwise I'm one of somefifty thousand young officers of the Commonwealth whose job is cut outfor him. And I like it.
It was Jim Drake, skipper of the Pelios, Cosmic Survey ship, whopersuaded me to take my leave on Mars, as a guest of Shadrak. Shadrakis one of our advisers, guardian of the Great Waterway, and a bigshot among the hundred thousand odd Martians who rule their planet byrobot control. The Martians watched us develop thousands of years, andlet us go because they're peaceful, and like our energy, till Gregor,the Tartar dictator came along and messed up the world. Then Shadrak,and a half dozen others roused themselves, crossed the void to Earthand liquidated a wad of would be exponents of force. That put theUnited States on top with its ideals of democracy, and the Martiansreorganized our form of living, gave us advanced tools, knowledge andcreated a technocracy. The Martians sit back, live well and give usideas. We do the same for them and everybody's happy. They know how tocontact all forms of life in the solar system, from Mercury to Neptune,and now, as you know, Earth is a beehive of industry.
Jim Drake's a thoughtful chap, quiet but a whip. Since he was a kidShadrak has liked him. After a few days of fishing, boating, andgeneral recreation, Shadrak called us in to his domed estate.
First he showed us his planetarium, and a dark nebula in beyond Orion,he calls the Noir, speaking with the throat disk because Martians can'tmanage our tongue otherwise. That dark, he had just explained, was athousand light years beyond the nearer Orion cluster.
"Behind it," he added, "is a solar system, a sun with six planets.The third planet is Spor, of the same albedo as Earth, and identicalatmosphere. I know, for my grandfather visited it, and he chose it as asuitable refuge for ten thousand of your Earthmen."
I had to break in on that. Jim nudged me, but Shadrak smiled. "Smallwonder you're surprised," he commented. "On Earth you have a legend,of the lost Atlantis. There was a general submerging of continents.Millions perished. And we were so moved on Mars that we sent our spaceships. It was one of our few real invasions. Till we visited Gregor, wehadn't returned. But that time we removed ten thousand, products of anadvanced civilization.
"We moved those ten thousand to Spor." Jim whistled. "Even that longago you traveled ahead of light. I mean, with greater speed."
Shadrak nodded. "You two are Earthmen we trust. We keep many secretsbecause it is best. But in this case—" he paused, "I want you, JerryKos and Jim Drake, to journey to Spor."
"But it would take years," I put in. "Maybe longer."
"Twenty two days and six hours, with the new ship just delivered,"Shadrak corrected. "It has a capacity of one thousand. If you r