THE VICTORY OF KLON-2
823 Words
INSIDE THE GLEAMING space ship, three men were seated on the collapsible bunks. Kurt Overland, his muscular body unclad except for shorts, was speaking in his even tone.
“Well,” he said cheerfully, even his steady voice failing to conceal the burning eagerness within him, “we’re finally ready. I’ve just made the last repair on the things broken by landing.”
Frank Barker grinned at him from across the cell-like room, stretched his six feet of blond-topped, lanky strength happily.
“Suits me,” he said, “I’m tired of being cooped in this animated bullet that’s been home for so long.”
“We had to wait,” gray-haired Professor Kent said mildly, “After all, if we are met by hostile beings, we want to be able to escape.”
Kurt Overland grinned. “Maybe you’re right, Professor,” he said. “But I’d hate to return to Earth and say that we’d been run off before we had a chance to bring back proof of our expedition’s success.”
“That would be a calamity,” Barker broke in. “Remember what a devil of a time we had getting permission to make this flight through space. The President told me, just before we took off, that because of the many deaths in faulty rockets a law was being passed to forbid any more flights. He said that it was only his influence that made it possible for us to leave Earth on a trip to Venus, and that if we failed to make good there would probably be no more flights for, possibly, hundreds of years.”
“So!” Professor Kent nodded his head. “Then I am glad that we did not fail; for it is apparent that we are the vanguard of a new phase of our civilization.”
Kurt Overland stood, flexed his arms. “Well, come on, let’s go,” he said. “It’s time we took a look around.”
The three of them slipped into their space suits, each of them tight-breathed with eagerness to explore the second of the planets. They were strangely silent as they dressed.
“Better slip the cover over that radi-light,” Professor Kent tried to keep his tone even. “There may be poisonous insects outside that would be attracted by it. We will go outside without lights, then switch them on when the port is closed.”
Frank Barker moved toward the radi-light, slipped the cover over its eternal brightness with a gloved hand. Then he joined the other two at the port. For a long second the three of them stood shoulder to shoulder.
“Professor Kent,” Kurt Overland said softly, “please go first. It is your right that you should be the first to step onto a world made accessible only by your genius.”
Professor Albert Kent’s shoulders shook silently for a moment in great emotion, then straightened with pride. He nodded, swung shut his visor plate, dogged it securely.
Barker and Overland followed suit, clicked on their radio receivers. They waited patiently for their leader, knowing the feelings that must have been his at the moment.
And then, unsealing the port, clutching the American flag gently in his left hand ready for its planting on Venus, Professor Kent stepped through the port, the first human to land on the veiled planet. Behind him, following with a clumsy speed, came Frank Barker and Kurt Overland.
“We three—” Professor Albert Kent began.
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KLON DROPPED FROM THE side of the ship.
He paused for a moment over the lifeless bodies of the three intrepid explorers, then moved away, disgusted by his closeness to the horrible creatures he had slain so swiftly and casually.
His every sense was alert for the slightest movement on the long gleaming thing beside him to retaliate in quick vengeance for the slaying of the things that lived within its belly.
Klon crouched there for moments, then moved toward the ship. He climbed into the port entrance, leaving a thick trail of slime in his wake. He moved eagerly toward the small hole in the opposite wall, his heart thudding with bursting eagerness.
He had seen Frank Barker slip the shield over the shadow that was so unlike anything on his earth. And now he moved through the darkness of the space ship, slipping surely through a darkness that was natural to him and his fellow creatures.
He lifted the small box from its recess, turned and sped from the ship, vague terror and superstition overcoming the courage that had taken so long to build to a white heat. He rushed past the men who slept the eternal sleep before the port of their ship, slipped into the warm water at the edge of the clearing, began his long journey to the meeting place at which a leader would be chosen.
He clasped the box close to him as he raced through the swampy jungle, afraid that it might disappear before he could reach his destination. He did not pause to examine his prize, knowing that the time was growing short, feeling certain a longer wait would only make the globe of lightness more thrilling.
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- Writer
