Dawn of the DemigodsGallun, Raymond Z. (Raymond Zinke)
Science
Dawn of the Demigods
Gallun, Raymond Z. (Raymond Zinke)
Science fiction
"Does it really matter, Charlie?" Jan asked, her eyes beginning to
shine, now, some of the strain already disappearing. "Here's an old,
old civilization, hidden, grown esthetic, maybe even a little decadent,
but extending far. You know it, feel it! Here are beings changed to
an android life-basis so long ago that it seems natural--hardy flesh
healing if injured, children being born as in the old flesh! Even death
almost a myth! Gosh, I hope we can get used to all that, Charlie!
Peoples multiplying, spreading to the stars."
"Don't paint it too bright, Jan," I laughed. "Come on. Let's explore
farther."
I don't remember how many hours we spent on that long excursion, or all
that we did. There was more than one bubble cavern; there must have
been thousands connected by artificially drilled passages in double
arrangement for traffic moving in two directions. In those passages,
currents of air carried one along swiftly. It was a perfect transit
method for a micro-world.
In some caverns were other cities. But there were more where tiny
agricultural machines, with limbs like a beetle, crawled across
miniature fields. Here we ate strange, sweet fruit, that surely
contained the carbohydrates of familiar food. But no doubt it also
contained radioactive salts from the soil in which it grew. As we had
been, it would have poisoned us. As we were, it was a double source of
vital energy, chemical and subatomic.
Other caverns were murked with the fumes of electric foundries,
self-operating, close to the mine-tunnels that bored deep into the
natural, nickel-steel core of the asteroid. In still other caverns
there were low buildings full of lathes, drills, presses, among those
that we could name--all automatic, too. Then there were caverns where
stood lines of square containers, enormous to our eyes, and joined by
a network of cables. This must be a power source--banks of nuclear
batteries.
And in several adjacent bubble cavities we saw where an enormous metal
cylinder was being built, each oblong segment being welded into place
by mechanisms of the true robot variety. From any one cavern only a
small part of the curving side of the tube could be seen.
"Some kind of jet engine?" I asked almost rhetorically. "For their
further expansion toward the stars? Like moving a whole planet to them,
eh?"
"Your guess, there, can be mine, Charlie," Jan said.
We felt no physical tiredness in spite of all our activity. "Let's
get back to a more idyllic surface bubble, Jan," I suggested, "and go
swimming in water if natural law, here, allows it."
"Crazy!" she responded gleefully.
Air, rising in a vertical shaft, bore us aloft for the few feet that,
to us, stretched into seeming miles. Against what appeared to be a
green hillside, we soon found what we sought, a great, clear ovoid,
glinting like a lens in diffused sunshine.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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