Forbidden Planet Read Free Page B

the E-X Craft 101, Bellerophon . She carried the usual mixed crew of scientists, technicians and guards. The expedition was the first to the constellation Alpha Aquilae.”
    He ran his eye over us again. “Nobody knows what’s happened to Bellerophon . Or the expedition. We don’t even know if they landed on Altair-4 at all. This is because any form of radio communication over this distance is damn near impossible even today, and the Bellerophon ’s equipment was twenty years older than ours . . .
    “So there you are: our job’s to find out if the Bellerophon made it, and if she did, what’s happened to the crew. Don’t forget the time-squeeze: if they survived, we’re in for an interesting visit. Because they’ll have spent twenty years on a planet man’s never touched before . . .”
    And that was all. He dismissed the Assembly and hurried back to the Control room, taking Farman with him. He was noted among the crew, especially the older hands like my friend the Bosun, for hating to leave his ship under unsupervised Automatic Control. They liked it. To them it was the mark of a really good Commander.
    As I made for the door, I found Quinn beside me. I liked Alonzo Quinn, in spite of his precise, rather old-maidish manner—which, I was beginning to believe, derived mainly from his profession. After all, a Devisor has to be a fuss-budget to do his job properly.
    I said, “I suppose it’s different for you old hands, but for me this is all pretty exciting.”
    He studied me through his large glasses. “Eminently understandable, Doctor.”
    “I don’t see much sleep for me tonight,” I said. “Too many things to wonder about.”
    “May I strongly advise against ‘wondering’,” said Alonzo Quinn. “The more mental forecasts you make, the greater the shocks you’re likely to get . . .”
    VI
    Adams’ prediction that twenty-four hours would see the end of our journey looked like being a hundred per cent correct. Because some time in the small hours I was waked from a thin sleep by the whistle of the communicator—and then, oddly, Farman’s voice. It said:
    “Hear this: Lieutenant Farman speaking for the Commander. Our objective, Altair-4, is in sight. All hands not on duty—repeat, not on duty may use the deck-2 viewers. The planet and satellites are visible on the port side. That is all.”
    I was out of bed and across to my viewer in one jump. I flipped the switch—and waited impatiently while it clouded, glowed—and cleared . . .
    Strangely, my first reaction was one of disappointment. It looked so small, hanging there like some Christmas decoration right in the middle of my screen. And there was nothing strange (God knows what pictures my mind had been conjuring up!) about its shape. Except that its general contour was a little more squeezed at the ends, a little more ovate, it looked pretty much like Earth.
    But then I began to realize how beautiful it was. And strange, too, with its atmosphere spreading a turquoise-shimmering halo; with its two small greenish moons whose tint was like no tint I’d ever seen before . . .
    I must have stood there for an hour, watching while our speed brought the planet closer and closer, swelling it until it filled the viewer completely . . .
    I was brought to myself by a visit from the Bosun. “ ‘Mornin’, Doc,” he said. “Commander’s compliments—and if you’d like to go up to Control you’re welcome.” He grinned at me as I jumped for my clothes. “Gettin’ quite a jet outa this, huh, Doc?”
    “Why wouldn’t I?” I pulled on my blouse and buttoned it feverishly. “If you want to know what I think, this blase attitude you Spacehogs cultivate’s just a pose.”
    He looked at me, his grin fading. “Could be,” he said. “Maybe we had too much experience. Maybe we cover up because we’re scared.”
    There was something about his tone, and I looked up quickly from putting on my shoes. But all I saw was his back as he went out the door . .