The exterior-pressure needle flicked to zero. There were clanking
sounds. The long halves of the boat-blister stirred and opened, and
abruptly the landing-boat was in an elongated cup in the hull plating,
and above them there were many, many stars. The enormous disk of a
nearby planet floated into view around the hull. It was monstrous and
blindingly bright. It was of a tawny color, with great, irregular areas
of yellow and patches of bluishness. But most of it was the color of
sand. And all its colors varied in shade--some places lighter and some
darker--and over at one edge there was blinding whiteness which could
not be anything but an ice-cap. Bordman knew that there was no ocean or
sea or lake on all this whole planet, and the ice-cap was more nearly
hoar-frost than such mile-deep glaciation as would be found at the
poles of a maximum-comfort world.
"Strap in," said the engineer over his shoulder. "No-gravity coming,
and then rocket-push. Settle your heads."
Bordman irritably strapped himself in. He saw Aletha busy at the same
task, her eyes shining. Without warning, there came a sensation of
acute discomfort. It was the landing-boat detaching itself from the
ship and the diminishment of the ship's closely-confined artificial
gravity field. That field suddenly dropped to nothingness, and
Bordman had the momentary sickish dizziness that flicked-off gravity
always produces. At the same time his heart pounded unbearably in the
instinctive, racial-memory reaction to the feel of falling.
Then roarings. He was thrust savagely back against his seat. His tongue
tried to slide back into his throat. There was an enormous oppression
on his chest and he found himself thinking panicky profanity.
Simultaneously the vision-ports went black, because they were out of
the shadow of the ship. The landing-boat turned--but there was no
sensation of centrifugal force--and they were in a vast obscurity with
merely a dim phantom of the planetary surface to be seen. Behind them a
blue-white sun shone terribly. Its light was warm--hot--even though it
came through the polarized, shielding ports.
"Did you say," panted Aletha happily--breathless because of the
acceleration--"that there weren't any adventures?"
Bordman did not answer. But he did not count discomfort as an adventure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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