Rocket to Limbo

And now, like an island appearing in a sea of chaos, Peter. Lars didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was Peter, beyond doubt. The gates had fallen open, and he had walked into a high-roofed, brilliantly lighted entranceway, with the strange city shifting and glowing before his eyes through a nearby^ archway, and there was Peter, very much alive, very much here on Wolf IV, utterly unexplainable.

Lars had cried out in pure relief to see a familiar face, but now a flood of memories swept through his mind, confused, jumbled, only half-real, but memories just the same. The despair he had felt when the deserters had bolted camp, marooning the rest of them on this alien land; the bitter struggle up the mountainside to the wreck they had been sure was the Planetfall, and the almost unspeakable disappointment that had met them when they reached it—he remembered.

Peter had deserted them. He had run out on them with Salter and Leeds and the rest.

“What are you doing here?” Lars blurted. “What did you do with the ship? The others, where are they?” He stared at Peter, his eyes blazing.

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter right now,” Peter said quickly. He glanced behind him at the great entranceway. You’ve got to—”

“Doesn’t matter! We’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for Fox, after you and your pals ran out on us. What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?”

“We may all be dead if you don’t listen,” Peter snapped. “Or as good as dead.” There was urgency in Peter’s voice, wide open warning in his eyes. “I know what you think, but I didn’t run out on you. There isn’t time to explain it now. Later, if we’re lucky. They’ll be here any minute, so listen. Close your mind to everything you can. Make it a blank, don’t think of anything if you can help it when they come, or they’ll be picking your brain like a walnut. But don’t be surprised at anything, and don’t do anything to alarm them.”

Lars nodded once and fell silent. He didn’t understand what Peter was saying, but he heard the urgency and dread in his voice. Whatever had happened before could be settled in good time; there was an immediate menace here, overriding everything else.

His eyes took in all the detail of the huge entranceway. The walls were smooth, curving up into a high, vaulted ceiling. There was a light which seemed to emanate from the walls themselves, softly pink, shimmering. Through the archway he could see the buildings, piled in a fantastic jumble about each other. At first there had been no sign of life; now there was a growing buzz of excitement which seemed to come from all sides of him, though he could hear nothing. It was as though he was feeling the hum and excitement of the city deep in his mind.

And then there was a lull, as though thousands of people had suddenly taken a deep breath. The archway was breaking open, dissolving in brilliantly glowing particles as three figures moved down a ramp and came toward them. Lars had not seen them approach; suddenly they were there, as if they materialized out of thin air. They reached Peter and Lars in a moment, staring at Lars with unabashed curiosity as they came nearer.

They looked like human beings. They were tall and slender, two men and a woman, moving with an easy grace that seemed very odd, until Lars noticed that their feet were hardly touching the ground. The woman creature had light hair; the men were dark, their faces guarded.

They showed no hostility, but their actions were as strange as their uncanny similarity to Earthmen in appearance. They reached out to touch Lars’ clothes, to peer into his eyes questioningly, to rub a finger across his unshaven chin. Occasionally they paused in their inspection to look at one another and nod, then resumed their examination.

Exactly like children examining a new toy, a toy they are a little afraid of, Lars thought. He glanced at Peter, but Peter shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Finally Lars could stand the silent inspection no longer. Tm an Earthman,” he said in a voice that was too loud for the silence. “My name is Heldrigsson. I’m one of the crew of a Star Ship that came from a planet called—”

He broke off sharply. The three City-people were paying no attention to his words. Peter shook his head again. “It won’t do any good to talk to them. They have no spoken

language.”

“But how do they—” Lars groped for the right word— “talk?”

“They’ve got a lot slicker means of communicating than we have,” said Peter heavily. “How did you know they wanted you to come down here? It was you they wanted, you know, none of the rest. But how did you know that?”