The Man Who Vanished into Space

by WE Johns

Genres: Science Fiction; Sci-fi Action & Adventure; Alien Contact

Synopsis

The final book in Captain W.E. Johns' space adventure series takes Tiger even further into the cosmos!

When the crew of the Tavona discover a body floating in space - and wearing a kilt, no less! - they know at once the man must be from Earth. But how? As far as they know, only they have access to the technology for travel. Once they return home they discover the man's identity, and that he isn't the only man who has gone missing. Were they victims of alien abduction? By who, and for what purpose?

It's Tiger to the rescue once again!

Release date: December 22, 2022

Publisher: Orion

Print pages: 320

Sample

THE spaceship Tavona sped along its course through that frozen, silent, lifeless void that occurs between the suns and planets of the Universe and which on Earth is known as Space.

Rex Clinton sat by his observation window gazing through the heavy glass with sombre contemplation. He was not looking at anything in particular, one reason being there was nothing to look at except the eternal stars, and he had seen those often enough before. Once in a while, with a slight sinking feeling in the stomach which he had never been able to entirely overcome, his eyes wandered to a yellow ball that might have been a moon but was in fact his fast-shrinking home planet, Earth.

From it they turned to the brilliant crescent of Venus, which was the ship’s first objective, not for any other reason than because the Professor had expressed a wish to confirm certain impressions he had formed since the occasion of his only previous visit, which had been brief, cut short by a sudden devastating tempest.

The final objective was Mars, with no more serious object than to re-visit old friends and see how far the restoration of that stricken world had proceeded.

For the rest, the skyscape at which Rex gazed was one of wearisome monotony, nothing more than an all-enveloping background of deepest indigo sprinkled with innumerable points of light that were the constellations of the Galaxy, unchanging and eternal. By now he knew them all by sight, either by their Earthly names or those used by his Martian companions. They glittered not only above, but below and all around, for the ship itself was no more than a microscopic controlled satellite moving amongst them; although now that it had settled in its usual velocity, with motive power no longer necessary, there was no more sense of movement than if it hung suspended by an invisible cord from one of the stars immediately overhead.

He was sinking into the state when he had almost ceased to think, a condition common in space flight when there is nothing to catch the eye or hold attention, when he was roused by the appearance of a spark of light which he was sure had not been there a minute earlier. Whether the object was a large one a great distance away, or a small one close at hand, he did not know, and had no means of ascertaining. All he knew was, there was something there, and the thought struck him that it might be one of the artificial satellites launched from Earth of which all trace had been lost, either through mechanical failure or possibly because it had gone beyond the range of radio telescopes set to track it.

If a rocket or its capsule had gone into orbit far from Earth, he pondered, it could become a danger to spaceships operating in that region. They themselves might have collided with it with disastrous result. Wherefore he called to Borron, who was sitting by Gator at the controls, and said there was something outside which he was unable to identify. It was not a comet for it had no tail. It might be a meteor reflecting the light of the distant Sun.

Borron joined him. “Where is it?”

“Take a line immediately below Libra.”

Borron peered through the window. He wiped the glass to make sure there was not a particle of something adhering to it and looked again.

“Yes,” he said. “There is something, and as it shines with a white light it cannot be far away. We will see what it is.” He returned to Gator.

The jets, operated by Cosmic Rays, began to hum, and the changing patterns of the stars told Rex that the ship had begun to turn, necessarily in a very wide arc to prevent discomfort to the passengers, but closing slowly on the object. The jets died as the circles narrowed. Eventually it became evident that the object was a small one; so small, in fact, that it was still not possible to form an opinion as to what the thing might be. But that there was anything there at all was a mystery that roused everyone in the ship to active expectancy.

“My guess is, it is part of one of those lunatic rockets our people are still experimenting with,” remarked the Professor.

Nobody answered.

The Tavona closed in and finally drew alongside, the ship and the object appearing to be stationary although both might have been moving along the same orbit. Rex neither knew nor cared which it was, for he was almost overcome by what he saw a few feet from his window. Judging from the brittle silence that had fallen everyone on board was affected in the same way.

Tiger was the first to speak. “This is impossible!” he expostulated.

“Tut-tut! my dear colleague,” replied the Professor quietly. “Remarkable and astonishing I agree, but you cannot say a thing is impossible if it has actually occurred. As our eyes bear witness, this has occurred; but don’t ask me how.”

Rex said nothing. He was still staring at the object with mixed emotions of horror, awe and incredulity—and perhaps a little fear.

It was a body. A human body. The body of a young man. It was floating—if floating is the right word—at full length, legs together, hands folded across the chest. Of the rest, only the hands and knees were exposed, and these, like the face, were so white that they might have been carved from chalk. The reason why the knees could be seen was because—and this gave the whole thing a touch of fantasy—the corpse wore a kilt; a tartan kilt such as may be seen in the Highlands of Scotland. On the head was the type of cap which, with a peak front and back, is commonly called a “deer-stalker”.

Rex moistened his lips, which had gone dry, as he watched the body drifting nearer to the ship, drawn by the unseen force which brings together two fragments on a cup of tea. There was something weird, horribly unnatural, about the way the lifeless body floated with nothing to uphold it. That it did not fall seemed all wrong, although, in fact, as he was well aware, it was obeying the fundamental law of the Universe: Gravity: the power that held everything in place, and without which all would be confusion. While the several planets now pulling on the body from different directions remained evenly balanced it would remain where it was, in suspension. Weight meant nothing. A ball of lead would have behaved in the same way. Only in the event of a change in the position of the stars in their orbits would it move, and then it was as likely to travel upwards, or sideways, as downwards.

Death could come in many forms, thought Rex, and none could be anything but distressing; but here, in this dreadful loneliness, this infinity of empty space, it seemed to hold a poignancy that was like a cold hand on his heart. Should he himself step out of the ship unprotected, he reflected with a shiver, he would join the corpse already there, dead within a minute, his lungs deep-frozen and the blood in his veins solid ice. Empty space. On Earth men spoke of it glibly without realizing what a fearful thing it really was.

Tiger spoke, his voice pitched high with bewilderment. “In the name of all that’s fantastic, how could this have happened?”

The Professor answered, speaking slowly and thoughtfully. “That provides us with an interesting problem, one to which, quite obviously, there must be an answer. But I think I can tell you the poor fellow’s name.”

Vargo turned and stared into the face of the speaker. “Do you mean you recognize him?” he asked, in his clear precise voice.

“No. To the best of my knowledge I have never seen him before.”

“Then how could you know his name?”

“By the pattern of the cloth of which his kilt is made. It is the Macpherson Hunting Tartan. Only a member of the clan Macpherson would be likely to wear it, wherefore I assume that is the name of this unfortunate man. I have lived in the Highlands of Scotland long enough to be able to recognize most of the better-known plaids.”

“Can you tell us anything else about him?” inquired Tiger.

“He was probably a gamekeeper or a ghillie. Those are waterproof hill brogues on his feet, made of horse hide, and the heavy woollen stockings are specially made to stand the wear and tear of tramping through rough heather. We may learn more about him from the contents of his pockets, if there is anything in them.”

Rex found his voice. “Surely the big question is, by what possible means could the body have got here?”

“As far as I can see at present there is only one possible answer to that,” returned the Professor. “This man is, or was, a Scot. Of that there is no doubt whatever, because it is inconceivable to me that his tartan, which is a complicated one of several curious colours, could have occurred by coincidence anywhere else. He must have been picked up by a spaceship and carried off. Somewhere about this spot he died and was put out. Observe how carefully the body was composed before being jettisoned. Vargo, you are a wise man. Can you think of any other theory?”

“No. If the man died in the ship he would probably be put out because there could be no object in transporting a dead man anywhere.”

“What a horrible thing to do,” protested Rex.

“Why horrible? The body is as well here as buried in the ground.”

“Some would say better,” put in the Professor. “In the ground a body decomposes. Here, in the intense cold, in a zone of neutral gravity, it would be perfectly preserved for all time.”

“Are we in a zone of neutral gravity?” Rex asked Borron.

“Practically. Complete neutrality exists in theory only. Always there is a dominant force, however slight, exerted from one direction, although it may be a long time before it is able to take an object into its orbit. The chances are that ultimately this body will be gathered by one of the planets or planetoids of the Solar System and in falling through the atmosphere become incinerated.”

“When everyone has finished guessing what are we going to do about this?” asked Toby, practically. “If we are going to leave the body here we might as well be on our way.”

“We can’t do that. It’s too horrible to contemplate,” argued Rex.

“Very well. Let us take the body somewhere and give it a Christian funeral.”

“Where?” asked the Professor, succinctly. “You’re not suggesting that we take the body back to Scotland?”

“Why not?”

“That would start something.”

“We could bury the body secretly.”

“And put ourselves in the position of murderers disposing of a victim? We can’t do that. Alternatively, to hand the body over to the police would mean explaining how we came by it. We could hardly do that and expect to be believed. Besides, there are other people to consider.”

“What other people?”

“This man will have relatives, possibly a wife, on Earth. His disappearance may be an unsolved mystery. They should at least be informed that he is dead, so that they can abandon hope of his return.”

Rex stepped in again. “What I cannot understand is this. Why was the man snatched from Earth in the first place. There must have been a purpose in that. Who would do such a thing?” He looked at Vargo. “Have any of your ships been to Earth lately?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Would Rolto—”

“No. He may have peculiar ideas but he could have no possible purpose in seeing, much less seizing, a man of Earth. After all, he has seen you often enough.”

“If we accept that it can only mean that another ship from another planet has paid a visit to Earth.”

“That is the only explanation.”

“How many planets operate spaceships?”

“If we include the Galaxy, a great many. You know some of them, having travelled in them.”

The Professor resumed. “I think we should go very carefully into this, and if possible find out exactly where this man was and what he was doing when he was abducted,” he averred, seriously. “I say abducted because I can’t believe that the young man outside would of his own free will enter such a vehicle as a spaceship. He must be on the list of missing persons so it should not be difficult to get some information about him.”

Tiger looked sideways at the speaker. “You’re taking a serious view of this?”

“I am. I hope it isn’t going to be another case of what happened on Krona.* If some unknown ship is going to make a habit of raiding Earth for slaves, or people to populate certain of their planetoid territories, sooner or later there will be trouble.”

“The consequences of that would probab. . .