Part 1 (1/2)

s.p.a.cewrecked on Venus.

by Neil R. Jones.

NEIL R. JONES

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Interplanetary commerce, if and when it begins, will be fraught with all of the dangers that accompany pioneering expeditions. There will be the terrible climatic conditions on other worlds to be faced, strange beasts and plants; and perhaps desperate and greedy men.

That was the case when every new land was opened on earth and it may be expected to be true when we conquer the solar planets.

Mr. Jones understands these things well. His vivid imagination, his sense of a good story and his knowledge of what may be expected upon other worlds combine to make this a novel and exciting yarn. And, as is always desired, it comes to a smas.h.i.+ng finish with a surprising ending.

His scientific weapons are quite novel, but so realistically does he portray them, that they strike one as being quite possible and likely to be used at some future time.

I stood looking from the s.p.a.ce s.h.i.+p into the dense fog banks which rolled about us. We were descending through the dense cloud blanket of Venus. How near we actually were to the ground I did not know. Nothing but an unbroken white haze spread mistily, everywhere I looked.

With jarring suddenness, a terrific shudder throbbed the length of the _C-49_, rattling the loose articles on the desk nearby. The dictatyper, with which I had lately been composing a letter, crashed violently to the floor. I reeled unsteadily to the door. It was nearly flung open in my face.

”Hantel!”

Captain Cragley steadied himself on the threshold of my room. The captain and I had become intimate friends during the trip from the earth. In his eyes I saw concern.

”What's wrong?” I queried.

”Don't know yet! Come--get out of there, man! We may have to use the emergency cylinder!”

I followed Cragley. The crew, numbering seven, were gathered in the observation chamber. Most of the pa.s.sengers were there too.

The _C-49_ carried twelve pa.s.sengers, all men, to the Deliphon settlement of Venus. In the earlier days of s.p.a.ce travel, few women dared the trip across s.p.a.ce.

Several of the crew worked feverishly at the controls above the instrument board.

”What's our alt.i.tude?” demanded Cragley.

”Fifteen thousand feet!” was the prompt reply. ”Our drop is better than a hundred feet a second!”

Worried wrinkles creased the kindly old face of Captain Cragley. He debated the issue not one moment.

”Into the emergency cylinder--everybody!”

Herding the pa.s.sengers ahead of them, Cragley's men entered a compartment shaped like a long tube, ending in a nose point. When we were buckled into a spiral of seats threading the cylinder, Cragley pulled the release lever. Instantly, the cylinder shot free of the doomed _C-49_. For a moment we dropped at a swifter pace than the abandoned s.h.i.+p. After that, our speed of descent was noticeably decreased.

Peering at the proximity detector, Cragley announced that we were quite safe from a collision. The _C-49_ was far below us and dropping fast.

”No danger now,” he a.s.sured the pa.s.sengers. ”We'll come down like a feather. Then all we have to do is radio Deliphon to send out a s.h.i.+p for us.”

Cragley was equal to the situation. In this year of 2342, when the days of pioneer s.p.a.ce flying were commencing to fade into history, it required capable men to cope with interplanetary flight. If Cragley brought his crew and pa.s.sengers safely through this adversity and also salvaged the valuable cargo of the _C-49_, it was another feather in his cap.