"Oscillations," I exclaimed, excitedly. "A century ago Eddington
pictured all matter throughout the universe as alternating between a
state of contraction and expansion. Oh, Joan, don't you see? These
creatures are composed not of solid matter, but of some form of
vibrating energy. They possess an oscillatory life cycle which makes
them contract and expand in small-scale duplication of the larger pulse
of our contracting and expanding universe. They become huge, then
small, then huge again. They may expand and contract a thousand times
before they die. Perhaps they--"
A scream from Joan cut my explanation short. "Richard, the web's
slackening. I'm going to fall."
Fifteen minutes later we were rocketing upward through Jupiter's
immense cloud blanket, locked in each other's arms.
Joan was sobbing. "It's unbelievable, Richard. We were saved by--by a
miracle."
"No, Joan--Eddington's oscillations. Although I'll admit it seemed like
a miracle when those tiny wasps became frightened by enormous _us_
descending upon them, and flew straight through the quartz port into
the mist."
"What do you suppose made the web slacken?"
"Well," I said. "That web was spun out of the bodies of those dwindling
wasps. It seems to have been a sort of energy web, since it shriveled
to a few charred fibers before we could pluck it from our tunics.
Apparently it was sustained by energies emanating from the wasps which
burned out the instant the wasps dwindled."
"Richard, hold me close. I thought we would never see Earth again."
"I'm not sure that we will," I warned her. "We've lost our crew and we
can't even set our course by the stars. Perhaps the direction gauges
will function again when the atomotors carry us beyond Jupiter's orbit,
but I wouldn't bank on it."
"Oh, Richard, how could you? You said you liked uncertainty, danger.
You said--"
"Never mind what I said. I'm just being realistic, that's all. Do you
realize how heavily the cards are stacked against us?"
"No, and I don't particularly care. Kiss me, Richard."
Grumblingly I obeyed. It would have been better if we could have saved
our energies for the grim ordeal ahead of us, but it was impossible to
reason with Joan when she was in one of her reckless moods.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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