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Title: Stranger From Space
Author: Hannes Bok
Release Date: June 2, 2020 [EBook #62314]
Language: English
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STRANGER FROM SPACE
By HANNES BOK
She prayed that a God would come from the skies
and carry her away to bright adventures. But
when he came in a metal globe, she knew only
disappointment--for his godliness was oddly strange!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories March 1943.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
It was twilight on Venus--the rusty red that the eyes notice when
their closed lids are raised to light. Against the glow, fantastically
twisted trees spread claws of spiky leaves, and a group of clay huts
thrust up sharp edges of shadow, like the abandoned toy blocks of a
gigantic child. There was no sign of clear sky and stars--the heavens
were roofed by a perpetual ceiling of dust-clouds.
A light glimmered in one of the huts. Feminine voices rippled across
the clearing and into the jungle. There was laughter, then someone's
faint and wistful sigh. One of the voices mourned, in the twittering
Venusian speech, "How I envy you, Koroby! I wish I were being married
tonight, like you!"
Koroby stared defiantly at the laughing faces of her bridesmaids. She
shrugged hopelessly. "I don't care," she said slowly. "It will be nice
to have Yasak for a husband--yes. And perhaps I do love him. I don't
know." She tightened her lips as she reflected on it.
She left them, moving gracefully to the door. Venus-girls were
generally of truly elfin proportions, so delicately slim that they
seemed incapable of the slightest exertion. But Koroby's body
was--compared to her friends'--voluptuous.
She rested against the door-frame, watching the red of the afterglow
deepen to purple. "I want romance," she said, so softly that the girls
had to strain forward to hear her. "I wish that there were other worlds
than this--and that someone would drop out of the skies and claim
me ... and take me away from here, away from all this--this monotony!"
She turned back to her friends, went to them, one of her hands, patting
the head of the kneeling one. She eyed herself in the mirror.
"Well--heigh-ho! There don't seem to be any other worlds, and nobody is
going to steal me away from Yasak, so I might as well get on with my
preparations. The men with the litter will be here soon to carry me to
the Stone City."
She ran slim hands down her sides, smoothing the blue sarong; she
fondled her dark braids. "Trossa, how about some flowers at my ears--or
do you think that it would look a little too much--?" Her eyes sought
the mirror, and her lips parted in an irreprehensible smile. She
trilled softly to herself, "Yes, I am beautiful tonight--the loveliest
woman Yasak will ever see!" And then, regretfully, sullenly, "But oh,
if only _He_ would come ... the man of my dreams!"
There was a rap at the doorway; they turned. One of the litter-bearers
loomed darker than the gloomy sky. "Are you ready?" he asked.
Koroby twirled before the mirror, criticizing her appearance. "Yes,
ready," she said.
"Ready!" the girls cried. Then there was a little silence.
"Shall we go now?" Koroby asked, and the litter-carrier nodded. Koroby
kissed the girls, one after another. "Here, Shonka--you can have this
bracelet you've always liked. And this is for you, Lolla. And here,
Trossa--and you, Shia. Goodbye, darlings, goodbye--come and see me
whenever you can!"
"Goodbye, Koroby!"
"Goodbye! Goodbye!" They crowded around her, embracing, babbling
farewells, shreds of advice. Trossa began to cry. Finally Koroby broke
away from them, went to the door. She took a last look at the interior
of the little hut, dim in the lamplight--at the hard bed of laced
_gnau_-hide strips, the crude but beautifully-carved charts and chests.
Then she turned and stepped out into the night.
"This way," the litter-carrier announced, touching the girl's arm. They
stumbled over the rutted clearing toward the twinkling sparks that were
the lights of the other litter-bearers, colored sparks as befitted
a wedding-conveyance. The winking lights were enclosed in shells of
colored glass for another reason--the danger of their firing the papery
jungle verdure.
* * * * *
It was not a new litter, built especially for the occasion--Yasak was
too practical a man to sanction any kind of waste. It was the same
old litter that Koroby had been watching come and go ever since she
was a little girl, a canopied framework of gaudily-painted carvings.
She had wondered, watching it pass, whether its cushioned floor was
soft, and now, as she stepped into the litter, she patted the padding
experimentally. Yes, it was soft .... And fragrant, too--a shade too
fragrant. It smelled stale, hinting of other occupants, other brides
being borne to other weddings....
Garlands of flowers occupied a good deal of space in it. Settled among
them, she felt like a bird in a strange nest. She leaned back among
them; they rustled dryly. Too bad--it had been such a dry year--
"You're comfortable?" the litter bearer asked. Koroby nodded, and the
litter was lifted, was carried along the path.
The procession filed into the jungle, into a tunnel of arched branches,
of elephant-eared leaves. Above the monotonous music came the hiss of
the torches, the occasional startled cry of a wakened bird. The glow of
the flames, in the dusty air, hung around the party, sharply defined,
like a cloak of light. At times a breeze would shake the ceiling of
foliage, producing the sound of rolling surf.
Koroby fingered the flowers around her throat, her eyes rapt on the
passing trees. Her lips moved in the barest murmur: "If only--!"
and again, "Oh, if only--!" But the music trickled on, and nothing
happened; the litter seemed to float along--none of the bearers even
stumbled.
They came to a cleared space of waist-high grass. It was like a canyon
steeply walled by cliffs of verdure. The litter jerked as it glided
along, and Koroby heard one of the bearers exclaim gruffly, "Listen!"
Then the litter resumed its dream-like floating on the backs of the men.
"What was it?" another bearer asked.
"Thought I heard something," the other replied. "Shrill and high--like
something screaming--"
Koroby peered out. "A _gnau_?" she asked.
"I don't know," the bearer volunteered.
Koroby lifted a hand. "Stop the litter," she said.
* * * * *
The conveyance halted. Koroby leaning out, the men peering around them,
they listened. One of the bearers shouted at the musicians; the music
ceased. There was nothing to be heard except the whisper of the breeze
in the grass.
Then the girl heard it--a shrill, distant whine, dying away, then
growing louder--and louder--it seemed to be approaching--from the sky--
All the faces were lifted up now, worriedly. The whine grew
louder--Koroby's hands clenched nervously on the wreaths at her throat--
Then, far ahead, a series of bright flashes, like the lightning of the
dust-storms, but brilliantly green. A silence, then staccatto reports,
certainly not thunder--unlike any sound that Koroby had ever heard.
There was a babble of voices as the musicians crowded together, asking
what had it been, and where--just exactly--could one suppose it had
happened, that thunder--was it going to storm!
They waited, but nothing further happened--there were no more stabs of
green light nor detonations. The bearers stooped to lift the litter's
poles to their shoulders. "Shall we go on?" one of them asked Koroby.
She waved a hand. "Yes, go on."
The litter resumed its gentle swaying, but the music did not start
again. Then, from the direction of the light-flashes, a glow appeared,
shining steadily, green as the flashes had been. Noticing it, Koroby
frowned. Then the path bent, and the glow swung to one side.
Suddenly Koroby reached out, tapped the shoulder of the closet bearer.
"Go toward the light."
His face swung up to hers. "But--there's no path that way--"
"I don't care," she said. "Take me there." Her order had reached the
others' ears, and they slowed their pace.
"Lady--believe me--it's impossible. There's nothing but matted jungle
in that direction--we'd have to hack our way as we go along. And who
knows how far away that light is? Besides, you're on your way to be
married."
"Take me to that light!" she persisted.
They set the litter down. "We can't do that," one man said to another.
Koroby stepped out to the path, straightened up, her eyes on the glow.
"You'd better," she said ominously. "Otherwise, I'll make a complaint
to Yasak--"
The men eyed each other, mentally shrugging. "Well--" one yielded.
The girl whirled impatiently on the others. "Hurry!" she cried. "If you
won't take me, I'll go by myself. I must get to that fire, whatever it
is!" She put a hand to her heart. "I must! I must!" Then she faced the
green glare again, smiling to herself.
"You can't do that!" a carrier cried.
"Well, then, you take me," she said over her shoulder.
Grumbling, they bent to the conveyance's poles, and Koroby lithely
slipped to the cushions. They turned off the path, plodded through the
deep grass toward the light. The litter lurched violently as their
feet caught in the tangled grass, and clouds of fine dust arose from
the disturbed blades.
* * * * *
By the time they reached the source of the light, they were quite
demoralized. The musicians had not accompanied them, preferring to
carry the message to Yasak in the Stone City that his prospective
bride had gone off on a mad journey. The bearers were powdered grey
with dust, striped with blood where the dry grass-stems had cut them.
They were exhausted and panting. Koroby was walking beside them, for
they had abandoned the litter finally. Her blue drapery was ripped and
rumpled; her carefully-arranged braids had fallen loose; dust on her
face had hid its youthful color, aging her.
The expedition emerged from the jungle on a sandy stretch of barren
land. A thousand feet away a gigantic metal object lay on the sand,
crumpled as though it had dropped from a great distance. It had been
globular before the crash, and was pierced with holes like windows.
What could it possibly be? A house? But whoever heard of a metal house?
Why, who could forge such a thing! Yasak's house in the City had iron
doors, and they were considered one of the most wonderful things of the
age. It would take a giant to make such a ponderous thing as this.
A house, fallen from the sky? The green lights poured out of its
crumpled part, and a strange bubbling and hissing filled the air.
Koroby stopped short, clasping her hands and involuntarily uttering a
squeal of joyful excitement, for between her and the blaze, his eyes on
the destruction, stood a man.....
He was very tall, and his shoulders were very wide. Oh, but he looked
like a man, and stood like one--even though his hands were folded
behind his back and he was probably dejected. A man in a house from the
sky--
Koroby hastily grasped a corner of her gown, moistened it with saliva,
and scrubbed her face. She rearranged her hair, and stepped forward.
"Don't go there--it's magic--he'll cast a spell--!" one of the bearers
whispered urgently, reaching after her, but Koroby pushed him away. The
litter-carriers watched the girl go, unconsciously huddling together
as if feeling the need for combined strength. They withdrew into the
jungle's shadows, and waited there anxiously, ready at any moment to
run away.
But Koroby, with supreme confidence, walked toward the stranger, her
lovely body graceful as a cat's, her face radiant. The man did not hear
her. She halted behind him, waited silent, expectant, excited--but he
did not turn. The green fire sputtered upward. At last the girl stepped
to the man's side and gently touched him again. He turned, and her
heart faltered: she swayed with bliss.
He was probably a god. Not even handsome Yasak looked like this. Here
was a face so finely-chiseled, so perfectly proportioned, that it was
almost frightening, unhuman, mechanical. It was unlined and without
expression, somehow unreal. Mysterious, compelling.
He was clothed very peculiarly. A wonderfully-made metallic garment
enclosed his whole body--legs and all, unlike the Venus-men's tunics.
Even his feet were covered. Perhaps it was armor--though the Venus-men
usually wore only breastplate and greaves. And a helmet hid all of
the man's head except his face. Around his waist was a belt with many
incomprehensible objects dangling from it. If he was so well armored,
why was he not carrying a sword--a dagger at least! Of what use were
those things on his belt--for instance, that notched L-shaped thing? It
would not even make a decent club!
The stranger did not speak, merely gazed deeply into Koroby's eyes. And
she, returning the gaze, wondered if he was peering into her very soul.
The words of a folk-ballad came to her:
"--He'll smile and touch my cheek,
And maybe more;
And though we'll neither speak,
We'll know the score--"
* * * * *
Suddenly he put his hands to her cheeks and bent close to her, his eyes
peering into hers as though he were searching for something he had lost
in them. She spoke her thought: "What are you doing? You seem to be
reading my mind!"
Without removing hands, he nodded. "Reading--mind." He stared long
into her eyes. His dispassionate, too-perfect face began to frighten
her. She slipped back from him, her hand clutching her throat.
He straightened up and spoke--haltingly at first, then with growing
assurance. "Don't be afraid. I mean you no harm." She trembled. It was
such a wonderful voice--it was as she had always dreamed it! But she
had never really believed in the dream....
He was looking at the wrecked globe of metal. "So there are people on
Venus!" he said slowly.
Koroby watched him, forgot her fear, and went eagerly to him, took his
arm. "Who are you?" she asked. "Tell me your name!"
He turned his mask of a face to her. "My name? I have none," he said.
"No name? But who are you? Where are you from? And what is that?" She
pointed at the metal globe.
"The vehicle by which I came here from a land beyond the sky," he said.
She had no concept of stars or space, and he could not fully explain.
"From a world known as Terra."
She was silent a moment, stunned. So there was another world! Then she
asked, "Is it far? Have you come to take me there?"
Here the similarity between her dream and actual experience ended.
What was he thinking as he eyed her for a long moment? She had no way
of guessing. He said, "No, I am not going to take you back there." Her
month gaped in surprise, and he continued, "As for the distance to
Terra--it is incredibly far away."
The glare was beginning to die, the green flames' hissing fading to a
whisper. They watched the melting globe sag on the sand. Then Koroby
said, "But if it is so far away, how could you speak my language? There
are some tribes beyond the jungle whose language is unlike ours--"
"I read your mind," he explained indifferently. "I have a remarkable
memory."
"Remarkable indeed!" she mocked. "No one here could do that."
"But my race is infinitely superior to yours," he said blandly. "You
little people--ah--" He gestured airily.
Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. "And I?"
His voice sounded almost surprised. "What about you?"
"You see nothing about me worthy of your respect? Are you infinitely
superior to me--_me_?"
He looked her up and down. "Of course!"
Her eyes jerked wide open and she took a deep breath. "And just who do
you think you are? A god?"
He shook his head. "No. Just better informed, for one thing. And--"
Koroby cut him short. "What's your name?"
"I have none."
"What do you mean, you have none?"
He seemed just a trifle bored. "We gave up names long ago on my world.
We are concerned with more weighty things than our own selves. But I
have a personal problem now," he said, making a peculiar sound that
was not quite a sigh. "Here I am stranded on Venus, my ship utterly
wrecked, and I'm due at the Reisezek Convention in two weeks. You"--he
gripped Koroby's shoulder, and his strength made her wince--"tell me,
where is the nearest city? I must communicate with my people at once."
She pointed. "The Stone City's that way."
"Good," he said. "Let's go there."
They took another glance at the metal globe and the green fire, which
by now had died to a fitful glimmer. Then the stranger and the girl
started toward the jungle, where the litter-bearers awaited them.
* * * * *
As the party was struggling through the prairie's tall grass, the man
said to Koroby, "I realize from the pictures in your mind that there
is no means in your city of communicating directly with my people. But
it seems that there are materials which I can utilize in building a
signal--"
He was walking along, head erect, apparently quite at ease, while the
litter bearers and Koroby could barely drag themselves with him. The
girl's garment was a tattered ruin. Her skin was gritty with dust, and
she was bleeding from many scratches. She tripped over tangled roots
and exclaimed in pain. Then the man took one of the strange implements
from his belt, pressed a knob on it, and light appeared as if by magic!
He handed the stick to Koroby, but she was afraid to touch it. This was
a strange light that gave no heat, nor flickered in the breeze. Finally
she accepted it from him, but carried it gingerly at arm's length.
She refused to believe that he had no name, and so he named himself.
"Call me Robert. It is an ancient name on Terra."
"Robert," she said, and, "Robert."
But at last she could go no farther. She had forced herself along
because she wanted to impress this indifferent man that she was not as
inferior as he might think--but now she could not go on. With a little
cry almost of relief, she sank to the ground and lay semi-conscious, so
weary that the very pain of it seemed on the point of pleasure.
Robert dipped down, scooped her up, and carried her.
Lights glimmered ahead; shouts reached them. It was a searching party,
Yasak in it. The litter-carriers who could still speak blurted out what
had happened. "A green light--loud sounds--fire--this man there--" and
then dropped into sleep.
"Someone carry these men," Yasak ordered. To Robert he said, "We're not
very far from the path to the City now. Shall I carry the girl?"
"It makes no difference," Robert said.
"You will stay with me while you are in the City, of course," Yasak
said, as they walked. He eyed this handsome stranger speculatively, and
then turned to shout an necessary order. "You, there, keep in line!" He
glanced at Robert furtively to see if this had impressed him at all.
* * * * *
It was day. Koroby sat up in bed and scanned her surroundings. She was
in Yasak's house. The bed was very soft, the coverlets of the finest
weave. The furniture was elegantly carved and painted; there were even
paintings on the walls.
A woman came to the bed. She was stocky and wore drab grey: the blue
circles tattooed on her cheeks proclaimed her a slave. "How do you
feel?" she asked.
"Fairly well. How long have I been ill?" Koroby asked, sweetly weak.
"You haven't been ill. They brought you in last night."
"Oh," Koroby said disappointedly, and sat upright. "I feel as if I'd
been lying here for weeks. Where's Yasak? Where's the strange man in
armor?"
"Yasak's out somewhere. The stranger man is in the room at the end of
the hall."
"Fetch me something to wear--that's good enough," the girl accepted the
mantle offered by the slave. "Quick, some water--I must wash."
In a few minutes she was lightly running down the hall; she knocked on
the door of Robert's room. "May I come in?"
He did not answer. She waited a little and went in. He was seated on
one of the carved chairs, fussing over some scraps of metal on the
table. He did not look up.
"Thank you for carrying me, Robert." He did not reply. "Robert--I
dreamed of you last night. I dreamed you built another round house and
that we both flew away in it. Yasak had to stay behind, and he was
furious. Robert! Aren't you listening?"
"I hear you."
"Don't you think it was an exciting dream?" He shook his head. "But
why? Robert"--she laid longing hands on his shoulders--"can't you see
that I'm in love with you?" He shrugged. "I believe you don't know what
love is!"
"I had a faint idea of it when I looked into your mind," he said. "I'm
afraid I haven't any use for it. Where I come from there is no love,
and there shouldn't be here, either. It's a waste of time."
"Robert--I'm mad about you! I've dreamed of your coming--all my life!
Don't be so cruel--so cold to me! You mock me, say that I'm nothing,
that I'm not worthy of you--"
She stepped back from him, clenching her hands. "Oh, I hate you--hate
you! You don't care the least bit about me--and I've shamed myself in
front of you--I, supposed to be Yasak's wife by now!" She began to
cry, hid her face in suddenly lax fingers. She looked up fiercely. "I
could kill you!" Robert stood immobile, no trace of feeling marring the
perfection of his face. "I could kill you, and I will kill you!" she
sprang at him.
"You'll hurt yourself," he admonished kindly, and after she had
pummeled his chest, bruising her fingers on his armor, she turned away.
"And now if you're through playing your incomprehensible little scene,"
Robert said, "I hope you will excuse me. I regret that I have no
emotions--I was never allowed them. But it is an esthetic regret.... I
must go back to my wrecked ship now and arrange the signals there." He
did not wait for her leave, but strode out of the room.
Koroby huddled on a chair, sobbing. Then she dried her eyes on the
backs of her hands. She went to the narrow slits that served as windows
and unfastened the translucent shutter of one. Down in the City street,
Robert was walking away. Her eyes hardened, and her fingers spread
into ugly claws. Without bothering to pull the shutter in place she
hurried out of the room, ran eagerly down the hall. She stopped at
the armor-rack at the main hall on her way outside, and snatched up a
_siatcha_--a firestone. Then she slipped outside and down the street.
* * * * *
The City's wall was not far behind. Robert was visible in the distance,
striding toward his sky-ship, a widening cloud of dust rising behind
him like the spreading wake of a boat. Koroby stood on tip-toe, waving
and calling after him, "Robert! Robert! Come back!" but he did not seem
to hear.
She watched him a little longer. Then she deliberately stooped and drew
the firestone out of its sheath. She touched it to a blade of the tall
grass. A little orange flame licked up, slowly quested along the blade,
down to the ground and up another stem. It slipped over to another
stem, and another, growing larger, hotter--Koroby stepped back from the
writhing fire, her hand protectively over her face.
The flames crackled at first--like the crumpling of thin paper. Then,
as they widened and began climbing hand over hand up an invisible
ladder, they roared. Koroby was running back toward the City now, away
from the heat. The fire spread in a long line over the prairie. Above
its roar came shouts from the City. The flames rose in a monstrous
twisting pillar, brighter than even the dust-palled sky, lighting the
buildings and the prairie. The heat was dreadful.
Koroby reached the City wall, panted through the gate into a shrieking
crowd. Someone grasped her roughly--she was too breathless to do more
than gasp for air--and shook her violently. "You fool, you utter
fool! What did you think you were doing?" Others clamored around her,
reaching for her. Then she heard Yasak's voice. Face stern, he pushed
through the crowd, pressed her to him. "Let her alone--Let her alone, I
say!"
They watched the conflagration, Yasak and Koroby, from a higher part of
the wall than where the others were gathered. They could glimpse Robert
now and then. He was running, trying to outrace the flames. Then they
swept around him, circling him--his arms flailed frantically.
* * * * *
The fire had passed over the horizon. The air was blue with smoke,
difficult to breathe, and ashes were drifting lightly down like
dove-colored snow. Yasak, watery eyed, a cloth pressed to his nose, was
walking with several others over the smoking earth and still warm ashes
up to his knees. In one hand he held a stick. He stopped and pointed.
"He fell about here," he said, and began to probe the ashes with the
stick.
He struck something. "Here he is!" he cried. The others hurried to the
spot and scooped ashes away, dog-fashion, until Robert's remains were
laid clear. There were exclamations of amazement and perplexity from
the people.
It was a metal skeleton, and the fragments of complicated machinery,
caked with soot.
"He wasn't human at all!" Yasak marvelled. "He was some kind of a toy
made to look like a man--that's why he wore armor, and his face never
changed expression--"
"Magic!" someone cried, and backed away.
"Magic!" the others repeated, and edged back ... and that was the
end of one of those robots which had been fashioned as servants for
Terrestial men, made in Man's likeness to appease Man's vanity, then
conquered him.
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