Chapter 2: Into the Heavens

The directors of International Airways stared foolishly when they saw Carr Parker and the giant Martian enter the mysterious ship which was a trespasser on their landing stage. They gazed incredulously as the gleaming torpedo-shaped vessel arose majestically from its position. There was no evidence of motive power other than a sudden radiation from its hull plates of faintly crackling streamers of silvery light. They fell back in alarm as it pointed its nose skyward and accelerated with incredible rapidity, the silver energy bathing them in its blinding luminescence. They burst forth in excited recrimination when it vanished into the blue. Courtney Davis shook his fist after the departing vessel and swore mightily.

Carr Parker forgot them entirely when he clambered into the bucket seat beside Mado, who sat at the Nomad’s controls. He was free at last: free to probe the mysteries of outer space, to roam the skies with this Martian he had admired since boyhood.

“Glad you came?” Mado asked his Terrestrial friend.

“You bet. But tell me about yourself. How you’ve been and how come you’ve rebelled, too? I haven’t seen you for a long time, you know. Why, it’s been years!”

“Oh, I’m all right. Guess I got fed up with things about the same way you did. Knew last time I saw you that you were feeling as I did. That’s why I came after you.”

“But this vessel, the Nomad. I didn’t know such a thing was in existence. How does it operate? It seems quite different from the usual ether-liners.”

“It’s a mystery ship. Invented and built by Thrygis, a discredited scientist of my country. Spent a fortune on it and then went broke and killed himself. I bought it from the executors for a song. They thought it was a pile of junk. But the plans and notes of the inventor were there and I studied ‘em well. The ship is a marvel, Carr. Utilizes gravitational attraction and reversal as a propelling force and can go like the Old Boy himself. I’ve hit two thousand miles a second with her.”

“A second! Why, that’s ten times as fast as the regular liners! Must use a whale of a lot of fuel. And where do you keep it? The fuel, I mean.”

“Make it right on board. I’m telling you Carr, the Nomad has no equal. She’s a corker.”

“I’ll say she is. But what do you mean--make the fuel?”

“Cosmic rays. Everywhere in space you know. Seems they are the result of violent concentrations of energy that cause the birth of atoms. Thrygis doped out a collector of these rays that takes ‘em from their paths and concentrates ‘em in a retort where there’s a spongy metal catalyst that never deteriorates. Here there is a reaction to the original action out in space and new atoms are born, simple ones of hydrogen. But what could be sweeter for use in one of our regular atomic motors? The energy of disintegration is used to drive the generators of the artificial gravity field, and there you are. Sounds complicated, but really isn’t. And nothing to get out of whack either.”

“Beats the rocket motors and bulky fuel of the regular liners a mile, doesn’t it? But since when are you a navigator, Mado?”

“Don’t need to be a navigator with the Nomad. She’s automatic, once the controls are set. Say we wish to visit Venus. The telescope is sighted on that body and the gravity forces adjusted so we’ll be attracted in that direction and repelled in the opposite direction. Then we can go to bed and forget it. The movement of the body in its orbit makes no difference because the force follows wherever it goes. See? The speed increases until the opposing forces are equal, when deceleration commences and we gradually slow down until within ten thousand miles of the body, when the Nomad automatically stops. Doesn’t move either, until we awaken to take the controls. How’s that for simple?”

“Good enough. But suppose a wandering meteor or a tiny asteroid gets in the way? At our speed it wouldn’t have to be as big as your fist to go through us like a shot.”