Solid land inside a cloud of 'star dust' - where no solid land should be. And the weird voices - where are they coming from? Forced down on a minor star galaxy, Kemlo and his friends of Satellite Belt K discover a secret of Space which gives scientists information for which they have been searching for years.
Release date:
June 29, 2016
Publisher:
Gateway
Print pages:
107
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‘HE’S younger than any of you,’ said Kemlo’s father. ‘Krillie will have to wait another year before he’s even a junior Space Scout.’
‘But he’s a senior cub,’ Kemlo insisted.
‘There’s no such thing,’ Kemlo’s father laughed. ‘Either he’s a Space Cub or a Space Scout, and well you know it.’
Kemlo grinned. ‘True enough, Dad, but Krillie has a lot of sense for his age, and he showed plenty of courage when we ran into trouble once before.’
‘If we thought there might be trouble on this sky patrol we shouldn’t be sending you boys,’ said his father sharply. ‘It’s not a question of running into trouble; it’s a case of not using anyone but Space Scouts. There’s another point too.’
‘What, another?’ Kemlo exclaimed in mock disgust.
‘Yes, another. If I obtain the Elders’ permission to let Krillie accompany you, how do we know we won’t get dozens of requests from other boys of his age?’
‘That’s a good point,’ Kemlo admitted. ‘But apart from the fact that I promised Krillie he could go with me on the next trip I made, I think he has a right to go.’
‘A right?’ Kemlo’s father chuckled. ‘At his age?’
‘I mean it,’ Kemlo replied seriously. ‘Some time ago the Earth Educational Committee started a competition for the best diary to be written by space-born children living on a Satellite Belt. In it they had to write about everything they do; how they spend their day, what games they play, and where they go in space scooters or on the flying horses—everything. These diaries had to be written by boys and girls of Krillie’s age, and for a time they all were very enthusiastic. But keeping a diary properly means a lot of hard work.’ Kemlo gazed frankly at his father. ‘Krillie is the only one who has kept up his diary. Already he’s won two preliminary prizes. I think he has a right to go with us as a sort of special recorder.’
‘But your whole trip will be recorded automatically on electronic tape,’ his father reminded him gently. ‘You don’t need a special person to record anything.’
‘It isn’t only the facts we record, Dad; it’s the personal view as seen by a youngster like Krillie. The way he would record it in his diary wouldn’t be the same as the official record.’
‘I bet it wouldn’t be.’
Kemlo laughed at this observation.
‘Krillie has a fine imagination,’ he admitted. ‘He gets his facts right, but he puts in little things that make his diary more readable and not as dry and technical as an official record. I think he should be encouraged.’
Kemlo’s father stood up. He ruffled Kemlo’s hair in a playful gesture as he said: ‘Krillie has a staunch friend in you, son, and you make a good case. I’ll see what I can do.’
Kemlo jumped to his feet. ‘Thanks, Dad. How soon will you know?’
‘I’ll contact you in about an hour.’
Kemlo watched his father’s tall space-suited figure pass through the air-lock into the air-conditioned section of the Satellite Belt before he left the parents’ meeting-room.
At first he headed toward the games-room, then changed his mind and went to the senior boys’ quarters. Krillie would be in the games-room waiting eagerly for the result of the interview with Kemlo’s father, but Kemlo preferred to wait until he had more definite news. Krillie’s questions bubbled like an endless fountain at all times, and at present the most important one could not be answered.
Passing along the corridor between the cubicles Kemlo saw that the occupation light was on in Kerowski’s cubicle. He pressed the buzzer and in a second the door slid open to disclose Kerowski in the act of testing transistors while their mutual friend Kartin lounged on Kerowski’s bed.
‘Aha! The master has arrove!’ Kerowski grated. His voice had not long broken, and at times it sounded peculiarly rusty. ‘What news, O King?’
‘Oh, dear!’ Kartin grinned. ‘It was bad enough when he spouted like that in a childish treble, but now he’s half a man it sounds worse than ever.’ A well-aimed book hit Kartin in the midriff and he became silent.
‘No news yet,’ Kemlo announced. ‘I thought you’d be in the games-room.’
‘Waiting for you, when all the time you’d sneaked back to your cubicle?’ Kerowski scoffed. ‘I guessed you’d do that, so we stayed here knowing you’d see the light was on.’
‘I don’t know how you could guess what Kemlo would do.’ Kartin sat up, rubbing his abdomen. ‘You told me you had to test your reserve transistors.’
‘So I did,’ Kerowski agreed airily, ‘but my real and lofty reasoning would have been impossible for your lame brain to comprehend.’ He sighed and cast a doleful glance at Kemlo. ‘I am so right so often that my superior acumen frightens me at times.’ Then he shrugged, as if shedding these cares from his shoulders. ‘What is the correct reading for the direct speech transistors, Kem?’
‘Resistance or intake?’
‘Resistance.’
‘Six hundred volts electronic phase.’ Kemlo eased himself into a self-moulding chair. ‘Doesn’t your superior acumen tell you that?’
‘Transistors are not human,’ Kerowski replied as he set the testing machine humming. ‘In fact, they are greater than humans because they are infallible. But you, my boring bod, are definitely human.’
‘Thanks.’
‘That is why I can judge your possible reactions. I have the soul of a born writer—people and words fascinate me.’
‘You’d better let your memory for testing equipment fascinate you more,’ Kartin observed. ‘Instruments mean life to us in space. If they forget or fail, a lot of people could die.’
‘I haven’t died yet,’ Kerowski retorted, but he added more seriously: ‘But sometimes I wish I had as much knack in remembering technical gen as I have in remembering words.’
‘You’ve got it all right,’ said Kartin. ‘You just talk yourself out of it. Being dumb about that transistor test was merely an act with you.’
‘You think so?’ Kerowski seemed surprised.
‘Kartin’s right,’ said Kemlo. ‘Partly, anyway. Of course you knew the correct test reading for a transistor resistance was six hundred volts. Great sizzling meteors, Krow! … if you can’t remember a little test like that you wouldn’t be safe in a space craft, and you’ve proved that you are safe.’
‘Which means’—Kerowski shrugged again—‘something or other, I suppose. I’ll have to watch myself.’ He switched off the testing machine and reassembled the transistor in its unit. ‘How long before you will know whether or not Krillie can come with us?’
‘Less than an hour, but I can’t face all his questions until I know for sure.’
‘You’re keen on him coming, aren’t you?’ Kartin moved to allow Kerowski room to sit beside him.
‘Yes, I am,’ Kemlo admitted. ‘Krillie has earned a trip like this sky patrol.’
‘You mean because he’s kept up that famous diary of his?’ Kerowski dug a pack of fruit sweets from his locker and offered them around.
‘He’s the only one in his grade who has been able to keep it up. All the others lost interest. I think the diary is important because it’s the only way Earth-boys can know how we feel about our life in space.’ Kemlo chewed on the sweet for a moment before adding: ‘Oh, I know there are daily bulletins and telecasts, and all the rest of the reports, but they are all put out by grownups; there’s nothing by a space-born boy or girl. We’re, the first generation to be born in space, and although we like to think we’re the same as Earth-born boys—we’re not really.’
‘I’ll say we’re not,’ Kartin agreed. ‘They couldn’t live up here without a space suit, anyway.’ He glanced shrewdly at Kemlo as he asked: ‘You don’t think there will be talk of favouritism?’
‘Why should there be? Lots of the other kids in Krillie’s grade had the chance to record their impressions, but they were all too lazy to bother. You know our rules on the Satellite Belts.’
‘All shall help each other. The strong shall aid the weak and the fit shall guard the sick,’ Kerowski quoted. ‘Each shall be rewarded by his own endeavour.’
‘Sounds a bit pompous when you quote it like that,’ said Kartin. ‘But it’s true—and right too.’
‘Then why are we arguing?’ Kerowski demanded.
‘Who is arguing?’ Kartin retorted. ‘If Kemlo’s father gets permission for Krillie to go on the sky patrol, that’s good enough for me.’
Kerowski bounded up from the bed and became suddenly eager.
‘Hey, Kem! Do you think we shall have any fun on this trip?’
Kemlo grinned. ‘If by fun you mean danger—no, I don’t think so. The Elders wouldn’t let us Space Scouts do the patrol if it were dangerous.’
Kerowski looked glum.
‘There’s always the chance of something unexpected happening, of course,’ said Kartin. ‘Even our senior technicians admit that their theories often go wrong. Instruments are only infallible up to a point.’
‘True enough,’ Kemlo agreed. ‘Look at the differences they found between theory and fact when they started the moon-base project.’
‘And Deimos!’ Kerowski exclaimed. ‘Remember our trip to the Mars moonlet? We certainly found some queer things there. We were lucky to get back alive.’
‘The wandering of a minor galaxy is nothing like the landing on Deimos or the moon,’ said Kemlo. ‘This sky patrol is only to chart the galaxy and see if our instruments can record any undue gravitational pull, or if their stellar parent was affected by a passing sun which ripped them loose. This minor galaxy is tiny, so tiny it cannot be dangerous. The Elders are only sending us to save wasting the time of first-class technicians. If the galaxy were the size of Andromeda we shouldn’t be allowed to chart it.’
‘Andromeda!’ Kerowski yelped. ‘There are billions of stars in Andromeda. That’s a dopey comparison!’
Kemlo laughed at his friend’s indignation.
‘See what I mean? Even you see the difference between a wandering minor galaxy and Andromeda. It’s like comparing a pinhead with a space ship.’ Kemlo stopped speaking as the audovisor buzzed and the screen flickered to light, outlining a man’s head and shoulders.
‘It’s your father,’ said Kerowski as he clicked over the contact switch. ‘Hello, sir. Do you want Kemlo?’
‘Hello, Kerowski.’ Kemlo’s father smiled. ‘Is he with you?’
‘Right here, Dad.’ Kemlo jumped from the chair and moved to the instrument.
‘I’m using a closed circuit,’ said his father. ‘Don’t want everyone to see and hear us. Trim your channel to mine.’ He waited while Kemlo adjusted the switch of the receiving channel before he said: ‘Well, you will be pleased to hear that the Elders have agreed to Krillie going with you on your sky patrol. You will be responsible for him and, of course, his parents will want your assurance that you won’t let him wander off alone.’
‘I won’t,’ said Kemlo firmly. He felt like adding: ‘He’d better not,’ but refrained in time.
‘I’m sure you will take care of him.’ Kemlo’s father nodded and he concluded briskly: ‘I have to go now, son. Your mother and I will see you later this evening.’ The screen went dark.
‘Now we’re all set.’ Kemlo turned away from the audovisor and faced his friends. ‘Let’s go and tell Krillie.’
‘Ouch!’ Kerowski exclaimed. ‘I can just hear his babbling questions going on and on.’
‘Might be a change from your rusty croaking,’ said. . .
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