As a video-image, what he saw could have been nothing more than a
cleverly-done stage prop, an ingenious painting by some futuristic
artist. But the realization that it was real held him fascinated.
Of all the human emotions, here was one that could only flounder
helplessly for expression, for it had no precedent for comparison.
The awe and the strangely-placid fear were intermingled with a sense
of brute power; the sudden loneliness and strange humility were
woven inextricably with an irrepressible consciousness of godliness,
of unbounded omnipotence. And Doug knew that the first airmen had
but touched a tiny edge of the sky, for here was the sky in her
entirety--the infinite woman, at once belonging to man, yet an unending
mystery to him, and granting of her uncountable secrets but slowly,
enticingly, stubbornly.
As he watched, the tan-and-blue shape shrank gradually as though Space
were tauntingly erasing it from existence.
* * * * *
The interior of the compartment in which he stood had been designed
with the same simplicity of line as had the ship itself, and with so
smooth a compactness that it seemed to occupy more of the ship's long
interior than a bare third. The two crewmen had evidently not seen him
as yet; they stood with their backs to him, their eyes intent on the
long, curving banks of dials which ran the gamut of geometrical shapes.
Oddly, their hands hung idle at their sides. Doug wondered if they
constituted the entire crew, and if they did not, how many more of them
there were.
He would let them speak first. He walked over to a panel of dials, gave
them a studied scrutiny. The officer turned immediately.
"Ablast thirteen minutes, sir, at fourteen thousand miles. I believe
you'll find our track with zero variation. C-limit was passed four
minutes ago. Glad to have you aboard again, sir."
Doug returned the salute, nodded his head in acknowledgement of
information he had no way of understanding.
"Communications effective?"
"Why--yes sir. Sergeant, prepare space-radio for message--"
"No, no." Doug waved the sergeant back to his post. "Just--checking,
captain. How long since the last overhaul of your unit?"
"Why, at the prescribed overhaul date for the entire ship, sir. I
believe about four months ago, sir."
"Don't you know, captain?"
"Four months ago, sir."
"I see. If I may inspect the unit, captain."
"Sergeant! Prepare communications for inspection!"
He had no way of knowing how unorthodox his procedure was, only that
while aboard the ship, at least, his rank was the final law, and that
they would never land on Venus. Yet, these were intelligent men, of the
same high caliber as those Earth-bound in the headquarters units. He
must be cautious.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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