The New Satellite

by John Russell Fearn, Vargo Statten

Genres: Science Fiction; Sci-fi Action & Adventure; Space Opera

Synopsis

The mysterious disintegration of the planet Mercury presaged mutational changes in the solar system. Next, the Moon followed Mercury into oblivion, bombarding Earth with giant meteors and causing more earthquakes. Then a giant metal globe that had apparently been buried inside the Moon took up an orbit of the Earth. The new satellite is an alien spaceship carrying the survivors of a super scientific race forced to abandon their own world to emigrate to our solar system. The aliens seeded the then primeval Earth with life cultures in their own image, and then placed themselves in suspended animation whilst evolution took place. They have awakened to assist humanity to avert the mutational danger now facing the remaining planets...

Release date: March 31, 2015

Publisher: Gateway

Print pages: 89

Sample

The Great Earthquake of February 9th, 1970, began at exactly 3.10 p.m., and persisted, unlike all earthquakes before it, for twenty-eight minutes. In that time Earth rocked and swayed as though it were a rubber ball at the end of an elastic. Thanks to the mighty construction of modern cities, the damage was not as severe as it would otherwise have been, but even so, the death roll was high. When the upheaval ceased there was not the usual second ’quake of less force—only a vast and perplexing stillness with all trace of disturbance completely gone.

This, evidently, had been no normal earthquake. In every part of the world, even in zones considered to be immune, the monstrous swaying had occurred. Oceans had spilled over like agitated bowls of water; less strongly constructed towns had flattened like packs of cards. Fire, shattered communications, floods, and then vast tempests whipped and lashed around the world. It was February 18th before the last echoes of the disaster began to die away and the survivors could take stock.

At least a good deal was saved. The astronomers had seen it coming and, though not entirely sure of what would happen, they had done their best to advise the various Governments of the world that a violent earthquake was possible at any time.

The first clue had been found on top of Mount Wilson in California. Here there existed the mighty 900-inch telescope-reflector, largest in the world and twice as powerful as earlier instruments. Here, in the main observatory, it had been noted — and thence radioed throughout the world — that Mercury, the planet nearest the sun, had turned mysteriously red and then cracked up. It was upon his dissolution, a strange and inexplicable thing, that the possibility of a violent earthquake, due to changing equilibrium, had been urgently transmitted to all Governments and the public at large. And now, a fortnight later, the two Mount Wilson scientists who had been the first to foretell disaster, were again giving the heavens a routine check-up.

There was no doubt about one thing now: Mercury had entirely disappeared. The dead, erratic little world which had normally spun in an eccentric orbit 35-million miles from the sun, was no more.

“Which confirms our beliefs when we saw signs of him breaking up after first turning red,” commented Dr. Willoughby, curator of the Observatory, thoughtfully.

“What do you suppose made him smash up like that?” asked his fellow astronomer, frowning. “Quite a remarkable thing, and certainly one that never happened before in our System, anyway.”

“Worlds die,” Willoughby answered. “It just happened. I can’t see any other explanation.”

None the less the matter of the break-up had plunged him into profound speculations. He went across to his notebook and examined it thoughtfully. Garside, his companion, again adjusted the controls of the reflector and studied the screen which filled practically all the enormous observatory floor. In fact, the screen resembled a small lake, its surface made of dustless, highly polished atomercury. It gave the maximum of detail with the minimum of eye-hurting brilliance. And at the moment it revealed the starry infinities.

“There is no doubt,” Willoughby said, glancing up from his spot-lit notes, “that the disappearance of Mercury caused the great earthquake. Though by no means a large body it was of sufficient mass to cause a change in balance throughout the entire Solar System. Presumably every planet in the System suffered in the same way … We can soon find out.”

And thereupon, with their delicate instruments, the two astronomers set to work to chart the behaviour of all the worlds in the System, from Venus to farthest Pluto — and before their night’s spell of duty was through they had discovered enough to satisfy them that every planet was displaced from its former position in the scheme of things. The disappearance of Mercury had undoubtedly created a new balance, which fact was confirmed by all scientific bodies as a whole.

The public, when the information was received, was more irritated than satisfied. With half civilisation in ruins and hardly a man or woman not mourning somebody, a few cold facts and figures were not much consolation — but they had to suffice, for the scientists had passed on to the greater problem of why Mercury had disappeared. Here was something likely to keep every astronomer busy for a long time to come. Presumably the shattered planet had been drawn into the sun, being so close to it, but since Mercury had been in its crazy orbit for immemorial time why had it suddenly split up and then disappeared? Every scientist gave this a good deal of thought, and not only scientists. Chief-Pilot Frank Hurst, for instance, of the Transatlantic Air Mail, found a good deal in the mystery to absorb him.

Hurst had probably more reason than most “ordinary” men to speculate on the problem of Mercury’s departure since astronomy was his hobby, and in the many hours of flying he was forced to make he had the chance to sit and think a good deal. Also he was not earthbound, and from his lofty perch in the skies could view the heavens unhindered.

“I have the idea it has something to do with the colouring,” he commented. “Maybe the astronomers have thought of that too, though I haven’t heard any of them mention it.”

This observation, without the ghost of a build-up, made co-pilot Dick Meredith glance from his charts in surprise. As usual, he and Frank Hurst were at the controls of their machine, hurtling through the night with the Anglo-American mail.

“Come again,” Dick Meredith invited, and gave his instruments a routine check-up.

Frank was gazing into the night. “The colour,” he repeated, musing.

“Yes, I know. That’s what you said before — but I haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re talking about. However, if it relieves you to talk, don’t mind me.”

There was an interval, the massive motors of the ’plane droning rhythmically. Frank still kept on gazing through the bowed outlook window, and finally he nodded his head to the view outside.

“I’m talking about the moon,” he explained. “Look at it! When did you last see a moon like that?”

More out of politeness than anything else Dick Meredith took a glance. His interest in astronomy did not extend beyond the limits required for his job: certainly he would never have taken a second glance at the sky in the ordinary way. This time, however, he did notice that the moon was changed from its normal white brilliance with black streaks and spots. For some reason it had turned red, just as if it were blushing.

“Look at it!” Frank insisted. “Red as a harvest moon, and in the middle of February. Up here at this height it ought to be silver — No heat-vibrations interfering as there are with the September moon seen from the ground. And look at the lunar surface! Cracked from pole to pole with zig-zag lines … I’ll swear that red colour has something to do with it. The moon’s never looked like that before in all its history.”

“Just as though it’s in the midst of an eclipse,” Dick responded. “That turns it coppery-red — umbra shadow. Do you suppose the scientists have slipped up and missed a lunar eclipse in their calculations?”

“I don’t suppose anything so crazy. And that isn’t the same shade as an eclipse either.”

“Only explanation can be the one I heard put out on the news-casts this morning,” Dick decided. “Some of the high-up astronomers say that the blood-red colour of the moon is due to dust in the higher atmosphere caused by the volcanic eruptions which accompanied the Great Earthquake. What they neglect to mention is that the sun ought to look the same shade by day — only it doesn’t. Probably a story put out to please the public while they hunt for the right answer.”

“Could be,” Frank agreed; then he added sourly: “Dust be damned! Look at the distant stars! White and brilliant as ever. They too would be the same colour if a dust-veil were the cause.”

“Mmmm—I suppose so.” Dick stifled a slight yawn—a yawn begotten of monotony, in fact. He didn’t pursue the subject of the blushing moon any further because he had exhausted the subject. Besides, it demanded mental effort, and Dick preferred comfort. In contrast to the angular-featured Frank with his keen intelligence, Dick was a heavy-built young man of twenty-eight, round-faced and cushion-chinned.

“I think you’re making a mountain out of a moonhill,” he misquoted at length, squinting again at the moon. “I don’t want to find fault with your superior brain, but wouldn’t a sudden deposit of copper dust from outer space onto the moon’s surface cause just that reddish colour?”

“I suppose so — but it wouldn’t account for the cracks and chasms which are gaping in the surface. Here, two hundred and forty thousand miles away, they only look like lines — but in actuality they must be far bigger than the Grand Canyon.”

“All of which adds up to what?”

“Well, I –” Frank broke off and glanced around sharply as the emergency radio, always set ready for action apart from the normal apparatus, burst into sudden life.

“Attention all listeners! Attention! Warning has been received from the world’s observatories that the Moon is in a state of advanced disintegration and might at any moment break up. Take cover, underground wherever possible. All ships will return to port and all aircraft to their nearest station — immediately.”

“Can’t take his word for it about returning to base,” Frank said briefly, his brows knitted. “See what they say at the base, will you?”

Dick nodded and switched on. He hardly had time to identify himself before base headquarters answered: “Come in as fast as you can.”

“Evidently something in it,” Frank said, with another glance at the sky. “Do you remember the scientists reporting that, according to their colour plates. . .