Parasite Planet. John Russell Fearn
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Here again there was the hand of coincidence—or something, for in every particular the sun matched up with the dimensions and composition of Earth’s own sun.
“Not that it ought really to be so surprising,” the Amazon commented, studying the instruments. “There must be myriads of suns identical to our own G-type dwarf.”
“Which, all things being equal, should mean planets having properties similar to those of our own system,” Viona responded. “Soon find out, anyway.”
It was, however, several hours later before the Ultra had come close enough to the unknown system for the radio-telescope to pick up details of the planets’ surfaces. It appeared that the innermost world had the normal formations of continents, and oceans and clouds were few. All the other planets were shrouded in dense atmospheric blankets so no surface details were discernible.
“It looks to me,” Abna said slowly, as the close-up image of the small inner world came back on to the screen, “as though that planet has considerable civilization, and of a fairly high order, too. Cities, observe? And those dots on the oceans must be seagoing craft. In fact, if it were not so ridiculous, I’d say that the formation of the continents looks curiously like those on Earth.”
“Coincidence,” the Amazon shrugged. “In any case, I’m not so interested in a world which reveals itself. I prefer the mystery of one cloaked in fog, like the rest of these outer planets. Since we’re compelled to pass them first, we may as well stop at the one nearest to us.”
So it was decided, and in due course Abna was lowering the great vessel out of the blazing sunlight into the dense fog of the nearest of the six outer worlds. The fog only thinned out after the instruments had shown a descent of two and a half miles—then there suddenly burst into view a gray view of landscape and the unmistakable signs of small towns and dwellings.
With scarcely a jolt, Abna finally brought the Ultra down in a clear stretch about half a mile from the nearest group of buildings.
“Everything’s just right for investigation!” Viona exclaimed. “Gravity, atmosphere, humidity— We can go outside just as we are without trouble.”
They paused only long enough to arm themselves, and then the airlock was opened. So similar was the exterior atmospheric pressure to that of Earth there was not even the sound of air escaping from the control room. Then, in that silent personal wonder which always possessed them when they set foot on an alien world, the three stepped out of the airlock and ankle deep into something that looked like the very finest gray ash.
Puzzled, they looked down at their covered feet—then at each other.
“What do you suppose this is?” Viona questioned. “Volcanic deposit of some kind?”
The Amazon unhooked a small scoop from her belt and gathered some of the substance into it. The tiny register on the scoop immediately analyzed the substance.
“Believe it or not,” she said in wonder, “but this stuff is nothing else but dust! The undisturbed dust of time!”
“Dust?” Viona repeated. “But—but that’s impossible! You don’t get inches of dust lying like this in the open. Wind action keeps it moving.…”
“There isn’t any wind here,” Abna said, in a queer voice. “Look! The clouds aren’t moving!”
“I don’t understand this at all,” Abna confessed finally. “Let’s keep moving. Maybe those trees over there can tell us something.”
Their feet making no sound in the thick dust carpet, they headed to where four trees stood in an isolated clump. At close quarters they stood revealed as being of a species unknown on Earth, even though their general formation was normal enough. The extraordinary thing about them, however, was the bark, branches, and leaves. They were gray and petrified.
“Petrifaction of some sort,” the Amazon decided at length, “though how it ever came about is a new one on me. Wonder if the same thing has happened to organic life?”
In general the town conformed to the standards of any town anywhere—where the civilization was not immensely advanced—and there were recognizable shops, dwellings, small parks—full of the same gray trees—and well-planned terraces. But nobody or anything was moving.
Finally Abna turned, his curiosity overwhelmed, and crossed to the door of one of the nearby stores. To his surprise the door was not locked, but he did notice it had a deadly coldness as he grasped the handle. Even more extraordinary, the door fell to bits and powder as he pushed it inwards.
Silent, fascinated by the mystery, Viona and the Amazon followed him through a short hallway and then into the store proper. And here indeed was the most astonishing sight of all.
Back on Earth the store would have been classed as an emporium, having a gigantic ground floor with countless sales tables and counters. Behind and before the counters were people, as motionless as the creations of waxwork. High up towards the ceiling was a curiously-fashioned clock, evidently stopped.
“By all that’s weird!” Abna breathed at length, for once completely at a loss. “Look at them—stopped in mid-action. Look at that man there—”
“And the people are not so very different from us, either,” Viona pointed out. “Similar in physique, even if their clothes are odd.”
Abna began moving again and at length stopped before one of the women shoppers, who was apparently on the verge of accepting a package from the young woman behind the counter. Both women were fairly good-looking and both had thick black hair.
“Beyond me,” Abna confessed at length. “Certainly doesn’t look as though we can do much. Maybe we should move on and have a look at the other planets?”
“And leave a first-class cosmic mystery like this?” Viona objected. “Not likely!”
Suddenly Viona gave a cry of alarm. Immediately Abna and the Amazon, at different parts of the store, glanced sharply toward her. She was standing at one of the large windows, gazing intently outside.
“Quick!” she urged, turning. ‘Something queer’s happening out here, and I think its dangerous! There’s an invisible something making a trail heading straight this way.”
In the distance they could see the immense bulk of the Ultra, and in the foreground to its left were the trees they had stopped to examine—but the strange thing was that something invisible was making a trail from the Ultra and hurling fountains of dust into the air in the process. A clear path was being cut in exactly the track they themselves had taken.
CHAPTER THREE
RESTORED TO LIFE
Within seconds the invisible something had reached the trees, then in further explosions of dust the trail blew itself to pieces and headed in a zigzag line down the main street and turned sharply into the very store where they now stood.
“Get ready,” Abna said tautly, pulling his protonic gun from his belt. “Something invisible following our tracks.”
They expected an attack from the invisible creature, but the three were for once mistaken. Fascinated, they watched the exploding trail, like fire following a line of dynamite powder, come straight to where they were standing. Then there was a violent explosion which flung them backwards from the window and sent them sprawling across the floor.
Before they had a chance to fathom what was happening, there followed a terrific thunderclap from outside and a cyclonic gust of wind. Immediately sound burst forth in the store—the chatter of voices in an unintelligible language, the movement of feet.
Slowly Abna got to his feet, staring around him as he helped the Amazon and Viona up beside him. They were quite unharmed, but definitely bewildered. The store was full of movement and draughts. Outside, the frozen immobility of the clouds had passed away and they were moving before a strong wind, which was also carrying vast dust clouds along with it.
Then the shoppers caught