But the telecast had stopped ticking. Case ran the thing over the entire
frequency range and got nothing. If that was a clue, it was a negative
one.
He had to think it over even as he swung the ship into a long glide for
a hill which looked like it might have a good deal of growth on it.
Coming in low, Case saw that vegetation was sparse. But there was not
another ship in these strange skies. He had to land soon.
Running his eyes over the landscape below, Case discovered tall
vegetation along the base of another hill. It would have to do. He came
in low over the green, and swooped in for a landing. Luckily, this ship
could land on a handkerchief.
* * * * *
Strange trees, these which encircled the tiny clearing. They were all
shades of green, taller and broader than sequoias, and yet more like
ferns in the delicacy of their gigantic fronds.
Case stepped through the forward hatch into a warm, humid atmosphere
that was quite comfortable. He had thought of waiting for darkness, but
there was no way of knowing whether darkness ever came to this strange
world which seemed to exist in nowhere.
Too bad his compass was no good here. There seemed to be no magnetic
polarity. He'd have to trust to his sense of direction.
The city Case had seen was at least fifty miles away and past a couple
of low-lying hills that hid it from sight. That made it a good hike,
even for Case Damon's long and muscular legs.
And after he got there, if he got there? Case shrugged. Another bridge
to be crossed later. He hitched at his holstered gun and started moving
through the ferns.
He'd have to be careful; on closer scrutiny from a low level the land
had proved to be cultivated. And that meant people about.
A humming drew his eyes skyward. Huge ships of weird design were
crisscrossing the air above, obviously looking for something. Probably
himself, Case thought grimly. They must have cleared the air for that
blast. Now they're out in force. Still, there was a chance they'd
thought him one of their own pilots who'd disobeyed. He'd come in too
fast for anyone to have had a good look at his ship, he hoped.
He jumped five feet at an ear-splitting roar, whipped out his gun and
had the stud under his fingertip for a quick blast. He felt foolish when
the source of the roar turned out to be a purple bird that soared up out
of the foliage overhead.
There were other sounds now, from small animals that scooted about on
six legs and looked like fur-bearing armadillos. Then the ferns were
behind him, and he was out onto a road that came over the hill.
Case got off the road in a hurry. Well tended fields lay on either side
of it with spaced rows of grain that was taller than he. He could walk
between the rows and be out of sight of the road.
He took a few quick steps, pushed aside a stalk of grain, and tripped.
His gasp was involuntary but loud. For a second he lay still, then got
to his feet. He had tripped over a root.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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