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Updated: June 27, 2025
I focused on the dim, vague emanations that came to me from the circlet of my menore, and gradually, like an object seen through heavy mist, I perceived the message: "Wait! Wait! We are coming! Through the ground. The trees ... disintegrate them ... all of them ... all you can reach. But not the ground ... not the ground...." "Peter!" I shouted, turning to Dival.
The air was fresh and clean, although, as Dival had predicted, rarefied like the air at an altitude. The willow-like trees that hemmed us in rustled gently, their long, frond-like branches with their rusty green leaves swaying.
Yes, Dival became famous and very rich. I received the handshakes and the gratitude of the eleven men we rescued, and exactly nine words of commendation from the Chief of my squadron: "You are a credit to the Service, Commander Hanson!"
I glanced at the indicator, watching the hand drop slowly to atmospheric speed. "Keep a close watch, Dival," I ordered. "We shall change our course now, to comb the country for traces of two ships we are seeking. If you see the least suspicious sign, let me know immediately."
"It was from the laboratories and the schools of higher learning that all these things sprang," replied Dival quietly, glancing around at the array of instruments which made navigation in space possible. "True," I admitted rather shortly. "We must work together. And as for what we shall find upon the little world ahead, we shall be there in nine or ten hours.
That is a consideration I had overlooked. I shall warn the men. We must " At that instant I felt the slight jar of landing. I glanced up; met Correy's grave glance squarely. "Grounded, sir," he said quietly. "Very good, Mr. Correy. Keep the ship ready for instant action, please, and call the landing crew to the forward exit. You will accompany us, Mr. Dival?" "Certainly, sir!" "Good.
Perhaps, to some who read this, it will seem that Dival fared better than I. But to men who have known the comradeship of the outer space, the heart-felt gratitude of eleven friends is a precious thing. And to any man who has ever worn the blue and silver uniform of the Special Patrol Service, those nine words from the Chief of Squadron will sound strong.
"You're not used to work of this sort," I replied, as bluffly and heartily as possible. "There's nothing to worry about." "The commanders of the two ships that disappeared probably felt the same way, sir," said Dival. "I should have thought the Chiefs of the Special Patrol Service would have sent several ships on a mission such as this." "Easy to say," I laughed bitterly.
"We are coming ... to the clearing ... wait and while you wait, use your rays upon these accursed hungry trees!" Grimly and silently we hurried back to the ship. Dival, the savant, snatching up specimens of earth and rock here and there as we went.
"I believe, Hanson," he said slowly, "I'd better get ... a little ... rest," and he slumped forward on the table in the death-like sleep of utter exhaustion. There the interesting part of the story ends. The rest is history, and there is too much dry history in the Universe already. Dival wrote three great volumes on L-472 or Ibit, as it is called now.
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