Chapter 4: The Hidden Skyport

Around the table there was a concerted sigh. Burl, his ears still throbbing from his sudden excitement, realized each of them had been holding his breath. General Shrove smiled and glanced at the elder Denning, who sat expressionless. It is not an easy thing for him, Burl thought.

At that moment, Burl knew that he had come of age. This moment of decision, coming truly and literally like a bolt out of the blue, had thrust him into man’s estate before his time. He would show that he was able to carry this burden.

Shrove now spoke to Lockhart. “Colonel, we are holding you to your schedule. According to it, you can take off in five more days. Will you need any more time because of this addition to your crew?”

The stocky air veteran shook his head. “Not at all. We’ll be loaded and ready on the hour I set. I’ll take Denning in hand and brief him on what he may need to know. Actually, we may even be able to get him a home-leave. After all, his duties won’t begin until actual planetfalls are made.”

They rose from their seats. Burl stood up, uncertain as to procedure, but Lockhart came over to him and took his arm. “Burl, we’re going to have to give you a rundown on the ship and the plans. We’ve no time to waste if you want to get a chance to say good-by to your folks later on.”

“I understand,” said Burl. He turned and waved to his father, who was in conversation with the general. “I’ll see you at home in a few days, Dad,” he called, then followed Lockhart out.

Outside the building they were joined by several other members of the conference and immediately ringed about by a squad of Air Force men wearing sidearms. Burl realized that they were to be thus guarded everywhere they went. Obviously, the possibility that the builders of the Sun-traps might have agents operating on Earth had occurred to the officers.

Russell Clyde, the young astronomer, was among their group. He walked over to Burl and shoved out a hand. “Glad to have you with us, Burl. This is going to be quite a trip!”

Clyde was about Burl’s size. He had an engagingly boyish air about him, and Burl took a liking to him. Burl had heard of him before. For the young man, while still a college student, had formulated a remarkable new theory of the composition of galactic formations which had instantly focused the attention of the scientific world upon him. This theory had been taken up by the gray-beards of the scientific world and had survived the test of their debates. Now associated with the great Mount Palomar Observatory, Russell Clyde had continued to build a reputation in astronomical circles.

“You’re one of the expedition, then?” asked Burl, shaking his hand.

The redhead nodded. “Yep. They’re taking me as their chief astrogator. And don’t think it’s because I’m any great shakes at it, either! It’s just that I’m still young enough to take the kind of shoving around these high brass figure we’re going to get. Boy, have they got it figured!”

Burl chuckled. “Ah, you’re kidding, Dr. Clyde. You’ve probably been in on this from the beginning.”

The other shook his head vigorously. “Nope. It was going to be Merckmann’s baby, but when they realize they have a fight on their hands, they always look for young blood. And, say, cut out this ‘Doctor’ stuff. Call me Russ. We’re going to share quarters, you know.”

“How do you know that?” asked a tall, rather sharp-featured man who had overheard them. “The colonel will assign quarters.”

“I say he will ... and you can bet on that,” snapped Russell Clyde. He waved a hand in introduction. “This is Harvey Caton, one of our electronics wizards.”

Caton nodded, but before he could continue the discussion, Lockhart rounded them all up, packed them into a couple of station wagons, guards and all, and they were off.

The next days were hectic ones. By car and plane the group was transferred to the large, closely guarded base in Wyoming where the secret anti-gravity ship was waiting. Burl did not see this ship right away. First, he was introduced to all the other members of the crew, and given a mass of papers to study which outlined the basic means of the new space drive, and which detailed the opinions and suggestions of various experts as to methods of procedure and courses of action. He was subjected to various space medical tests to determine his reactions under differing pressures and gravities. Although it proved a strenuous and exhausting routine, he emerged from the tests with flying colors.

The expedition was commanded, as he had known, by Colonel Lockhart who would also act as chief pilot. The famous military flier proved to be a forceful personality with a great skill at handling people. He knew how to get the most out of each man.

Russell Clyde was the chief astrogator and astronomical expert. Assisting him was the rather pedantic and sober Samuel Oberfield, a mathematical wizard and astrophysicist, on leave from an assistant professorship at one of the great universities. Clyde and Oberfield would also act as copilots relieving Lockhart.

Harvey Caton, blond Jurgen Detmar, and the jovial Frank Shea were the three-man engineering crew. Completing the members of the expedition was another trio chosen to act as general crew, medical and commissary men while in flight, and as a trained explorer-fighter unit while on planetside. Roy Haines, of whose exploits in Africa and the jungles of South America Burl Denning had heard, was the first of these, a rugged, weather-beaten, but astonishingly alert explorer. Captain Edgar Boulton, on leave from the United States Marines, was the second--a man who had made an impressive record in various combat actions in his country’s service. The Antarctic explorer, Leon Ferrati, completed the listing. Ferrati was an expert on getting along in conditions of extreme frigidity and hostile climates. Of these men, only Lockhart, Clyde, Detmar and Ferrati had had space experience in the platforms and in Moon-rocketry.

It was still, thought Burl, a large crew for a spaceship. No rocket built to date had ever been able to carry such a load. But by then he had realized that the strict weight limitation imposed by rocket fuels no longer applied to this new method of space flight. Burl found himself more and more anxious to see this wonderful craft.

It was not until the morning of the second day that Burl’s chance came. He had fallen asleep on the stiff army cot in the hastily improvised base on the Wyoming prairie where the final work was being done. The day had been a confused jumble of impressions, with little time to catch his breath. Now he had slept the sleep of exhaustion, only to be awakened at dawn by Lockhart.

“Up and dress,” the colonel greeted him. “We’re taking you out to look the ship over. Detmar will come along and explain the drive.”

Burl threw his clothes on, gulped down breakfast in the company of the others at the messhall, and soon was speeding along a wide, new road that ran up to the mountains edging the wide western plain. As they neared the mountains, he saw a high wooden wall blocking the road and view; this was the barrier that concealed the ship nestled in the valley beyond.

They passed the guards’ scrutiny and emerged into the valley. The A-G 17 loomed suddenly above them, and Burl’s first impression was of a glistening metal fountain roaring up from the ground, gathering itself high in the sky, as if to plunge down again in a rain of shining steel.

The ship was like a huge, gleaming raindrop. It stood two hundred feet high, the wide, rounded, blunt bulk of it high in the air, as if about to fall upward instead of downward. It tapered down to a thin, perfectly streamlined point which touched the ground. It was held upright by a great cradle of girders and beams. At various points the polished steel was broken by indentations or inset round dots that were thick portholes or indications of entry ports. Around its equator, girding the widest section was a ring of portholes, and there were scattered rings of similar portholes below this.

As the three men drew near the tail, the great bulk loomed overhead, and Burl felt as if its weight were bearing down on him as they walked beneath.

Two men were suspended from the scaffolding above. Burl twisted his neck and saw that the designation A-G 17 and the white-star insignia of the United States had been lettered along the sides. But what was it the men were painting now?

“It will read Magellan,” said Lockhart, following Burl’s eyes. “We decided that that would be the appropriate name for it. For what we are going to have to do with it is not just to make a simple trip to explore another planet, but to circumnavigate the entire solar system.”

Burl found his eyes dazzled by the vessel, hanging like a giant bulbous mushroom over them. Around him, he began to realize that a number of other activities were going on. There were spidery scaffolds leading up to open ports in the metallic sides. Workmen were raising loads of material into these ports, and for an instant Burl caught sight of Haines, in rough work clothes, shouting orders from one of the openings as to exactly where to stow something.

At last he took his eyes away from the startling sight. The little valley around him had a number of low storage shacks. A road led in from another pass through the mountains. Two loaded trucks came down this pass now in low gear. Lockhart, watching, remarked, “We are having our equipment and supplies flown up to a town twenty miles away and then trucked in.”