Life on other planets -- Fiction; Revolutions -- Fiction; Science fiction; Teleportation -- Fiction
The girl kneeling beside him laughed, her voice like the music of
rill waters. She turned to her elder companion, said in strange,
accented English, "See, I was right, father! He _is_ from over There. I
recognized the garments; severe and ugly. Not at all like _ours_--"
She touched the flowing hem of her own brief, silken kirtle with
fingers equally soft and white. Both she and the graybeard were dressed
in clothing of classic simplicity. No stiff military harness like that
worn by earthlings of Dirk's era, but something resembling the _chiton_
of ancient Greece.
Dirk said wonderingly, "You ... you're human!"
"But, of course, stranger."
"This ... this isn't Earth, though. Nor any planet of the System!"
Dirk gestured toward the landscape, smooth and gaily gardened,
stretching from horizon to horizon with no ornament save the natural
adornments of Nature. Here were no grim and ugly buildings towering
to the skies, blocking the sun's warm rays from view; no shining
mansions flanked by filthy hovels; none of the cheek-and-jowl splendor
and squalor of the world whence he had come. Here was only gentle,
untrammeled beauty in a quiet, pastoral existence.
No planet of the Solar System was so organized, Dirk knew. But were a
second, convincing proof needed, he had but to glance at the sky. There
shone not the lone, familiar Sun of Earth ... but _two_ suns! A binary
system. One golden-yellow like Sol, the other a bluish-white globe of
radiance.
"No," answered the elderly man, "this is neither the Earth from which
you came nor any planet of its system. This is the planet Nadron,
satellite of the twin suns, Kraagol and Thuumion, in the fourth
galactic level."
Triumph was a bursting bomb in Morris' heart.
"Then it was a success, after all!" he cried. "Then Townsend was
right! If only he had lived to see this day! A success ... and all
because Garroway's scientists, playing with an instrument they did not
understand, succeeded where we had failed for years!
"But ... but your planet is unfamiliar to me; I do not know your suns
by the names you have given them. Your system lies just where in
relation to the galactic center? How many miles ... or light years ...
are we from my native Earth?"
The old man looked at him oddly for a moment, then:
"We are _no_ miles from your Earth, my friend," he announced quietly,
"and the distance may be measured in _seconds_ ... not light-years."
Dirk stared, bewilderment in his eyes.
"I ... I'm afraid I don't understand, sir. I hope you will forgive me.
Perhaps you are joking--?"
"It is no jest, my boy, but the simple truth. Earth and Nadron are ...
but, stay! Let me prove my point otherwise. Has it not occurred to you
to wonder that we, the people of a foreign world, know your language?"
Dirk said wonderingly, "Why ... why, that's right; you do! But how--?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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