The Devolutionist and the EmancipatrixFlint, Homer Eon
Science
The Devolutionist and the Emancipatrix
Flint, Homer Eon
Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction
It will be easier to picture her wonder and uneasiness if she is
compared mentally with a girl of five or six. Easier, too, to
appreciate the fact that she determined to go on anyhow.
Mile after mile was covered in the darkness. Rolla was on the point
of absolute exhaustion; but she dared not sleep until she reached a
spot where there was no danger of falling. It was only after braving
the gale for over four hours in the starlight that Rolla reached a
point where she was no longer half crawling, half creeping, but
moved nearly erect. Shortly she was able to face the way she was
going; and by leaning backward was able to make swift progress. In
another half-hour she was walking upright. Still no explanation of
the mystery!
Finding a sheltered spot, she proceeded to make herself
comparatively comfortable on the rock. Automatically, from habit,
she proceeded to keep watch; then she must have remembered that
there was now no need for vigilance. For she lay herself down in the
darkness and instantly fell asleep.
Three hours later--according to the time kept by the watchers on the
earth--Rolla awoke and sat up in great alarm. And small wonder.
It was broad daylight! The sun was well above the horizon; and not
only the Sanusian but the people on the earth were vastly puzzled to
note that it was the western horizon! To all appearances, Rolla had
slept a whole day in that brief three hours.
Shortly her nerves were steady enough for her to look about,
uncomprehendingly, but interestedly, as a child will. There was
nothing but rock to be seen; a more or less level surface, such as
she had toiled over the day before. The day before! She glanced at
the sun once more, and her heart gave a great leap.
The sun was rising--in the west!
'"Tis a world of contraries," observed Rolla sagely to herself.
"Mayhap I shall find all else upside down."
She ate heartily, and drank deep from her gourd. There was not a
cupful remaining. She eyed it seriously as she got to her feet.
Another look back at that flat expanse of granite, which had so
gradually and so mysteriously changed from precipice to plain, and
Rolla strode on with renewed vigor and interest. Presently she was
able to make out something of a different color in the distance, and
soon was near enough to see some bona-fide bushes; a low, flowerless
shrub, it is true, but at least it was a living thing.
Shortly the undergrowth became dense enough to make it somewhat of
an effort to get through. And before long she was noticing all
manner of small creatures, from bugs to an occasional wandering
bird. These last, especially, uttered an abrupt but cheerful chirp
which helped considerably to raise her spirits. It was all too easy
to see, in her fancy, her lover helpless and suffering in the power
of those cold-blooded, merciless insects.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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