World in Reverse. John Russell Fearn

World in Reverse - John Russell Fearn


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tell us much,” the Amazon said, sitting back in her chair and musing. “Looks the same as any other world to me, even if it is in another space. What gave you the idea that things went backwards?”

      “I sensed it,” Abna said, switching off. “Can’t you understand that at that time—brief though it was—I was almost exalted? I knew of the strangeness of the planet, and was convinced of it. I’ll swear it was not an illusion. I glimpsed people, too.”

      There was silence for a moment, then Mexone made a comment.

      “Just as well that camera didn’t actually hit the planet. It would have been either burned up or smashed to bits, at that speed. The time ran out at just the right moment.”

      Abna nodded, then looked seriously at the faces turned toward him,

      “We haven’t learned much, beyond the fact that I was right,” he said. “Do we have a look at this world, or not?”

      “Naturally!” the Amazon said promptly. “Any planet that has a puzzle attached to it is right for us. You two think the same?”

      Viona and Mexone nodded promptly. Though they did not say so, they were becoming increasingly bored with the sameness of everything.

      “Very well then,” Abna said. “Let’s make our arrangements and get started. We’ll have to adjust the Probability Machine so that its influence incorporates the whole vessel. That way we ought to get projected into this other space.”

      The Amazon, Viona, and Mexone took their places on the wall couches and made themselves ready for the takeoff.

      “Ready?” Abna inquired, and at the murmurs of assent he engaged the ship’s drive. Instantly the Ultra’s huge mass rose swiftly from the desolate plain and swept upwards to the murky clouds. In seconds of time the clouds were left behind and there appeared the infinite darkness of space with its endless parade of gleaming stars.

      CHAPTER TWO

      BACKWARDS LIFE

      Motionless, Abna kept his attention on the chronometer, marking the disappearing seconds of the five minutes he had fixed. As the fourth minute was reached, he glanced at the three in their pressure beds.

      “I don’t know exactly what will happen when the Probability Machine operates,” he said, “but from my own experience I’ll guarantee that it won’t be pleasant—so steel yourselves.”

      Fifteen seconds later the Probability Machine took over, and the four were instantly aware of the fact.… It was a distressing, anguishing experience, this turning aside into a new space, yet in many ways it was identical to the sensation the four had experienced many times in the past—a twisting and turning of body, nerve, and mentality, a sense of enormous extension and strain as atoms and molecules were torn out of their normal tracks and reformed.… Then, at last, a dead calm.

      Slowly the Amazon got control of herself again, levered herself out of the pressure couch, and crossed over to where Abna was gazing through the observation window. He was breathing heavily as the result of his experiences.

      “That’s the planet—over there,” he said.

      Then Viona and Mexone came over to the window and joined Abna and the Amazon in gazing outside. The mystery world with its clouds of vapors was perhaps fifteen million miles away, as large as a rather small moon seen from Earth.

      “Have you noticed, Dad, that that planet isn’t an isolated one?” Viona asked. “It’s one of six planets—a complete system. And that blue-white star for a sun.”

      “I had no time to notice things like that,” Abna responded. “It doesn’t particularly matter now. I do know that planet is our main objective.”

      So, presently, moving at high velocity, they reached the outer edge of the planet’s atmosphere. Abna leveled the Ultra out so as to be parallel with the cloud belts, and thus began a swift circumnavigation of the globe, slackening speed and dropping lower all the time…until finally the Ultra was beneath the cloud banks and skimming over a flat plain, mainly composed of sand with outcroppings of vegetation and rock here and there.

      “Not very impressive,” the Amazon commented, staring below. “The sort of thing one might see if one happened to glimpse the Sahara on first visiting Earth.”

      “There’s something over there, on the edge of the desert,” Viona said quickly, gazing into distance. “I may be crazy, but it looks to me like a town.”

      “We can do two things,” Abna said. “One is land in this jungle and go back on foot to the town: the other is to take a chance, circle around, and go back to the town in the Ultra. But it won’t be easy to find a landing ground large enough.… Take your choice.”

      “I suggest we land in the jungle,” the Amazon said. “It’s easier to approach a strange race when we haven’t the Ultra with us. Its size seems to overawe them.”

      “Besides,” Viona added, “we want to see what sort of vegetation this planet’s got.”

      The issue decided, Abna concentrated his attention on bringing the vessel to rest—a none-too-easy task with no sign of a clearing. Also, he was fast losing height. Finally he had to take a chance, and the result was that the multi-ton mass crashed through the topmost branches of the trees, tore down vegetation and creepers in its path, and finally alighted with considerable force in the carpeting undergrowth.

      Lying somewhat upended, with a trail of destruction pointing back to the sky, the Ultra became still, and the throb of its power plant abruptly ceased. Abna turned from the control board and grinned.

      “Sorry,” he apologized. “Only thing I could do. Luckily for us, the Ultra is a darned sight tougher than the trees.”

      The Amazon opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead she looked through the rear observation window in amazement. Forgetful of everything else, she hurried to it and gazed outside.

      “By all that’s extraordinary!” she exclaimed finally, and somewhat puzzled, the others came to her side.

      “What is?” Abna asked curiously.

      “Look!” She pointed in the direction they had come. “We smashed trees and branches down as we tore through them: I distinctly remember that. Yet now there isn’t anything to show where we came!”

      They stood in silence for a moment or two, trying to weigh up the unusual situation; then Abna, who had been gazing absently outside at some of the lower growths, suddenly gave a start. He went closer to the window and peered intently.

      “Either I’m crazy,” he said finally, “or these bushes outside here—the low-down ones—are growing backwards!”

      The leaves were visibly curling up slowly into sticky projections, and then decreasing into obvious buds. The actual stems of the bushes, too, were gradually shrinking in length and seemingly withdrawing into the main stem.

      “Now do you believe me?” Abna asked the Amazon dryly. “I know it’s against all scientific or any other law, but it’s happening. Backwards life!”

      “I believe it because I see it,” the Amazon answered. “But I certainly want to know more about it. Let’s see what the external conditions are like.”

      She examined instruments giving readings on the exterior conditions, and made a quick analysis of the air sample, which she extracted in an ampule. The results were satisfactory.

      “Oxygen, hydrogen, krypton, and nitrogen,” she announced. “In quantities quite suitable for our type of life. Temperature around seventy degrees Fahrenheit, so that’s no hardship.”

      “Before long,” Abna said, operating the control that opened the airlock, “I fancy that somebody will come looking for us. We must have been seen as we crossed that town—and since the Ultra is not the kind of object seen every day, I imagine we’ll have a visitation. We’d better be well armed and


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