Chapter 10

Louie was right. After they cleared the solar system there was no trouble getting to Eden. And there was no trouble circumnavigating the globe while still in space.

Closer, but still outside the atmosphere in their surveying spiral, they had no trouble in locating the island with Crystal Palace Mountain at its center. There was only one such spot on Eden, and in their telescope viewer its crystalline spires and minarets sparkled back at them like a diamond set in jade.

The trouble began when they hovered over the location, when they amplified their magnification to get a close look at the Appletree village before dropping down to land.

Louie found the right valley. He said it was the right valley, and he stuck to his claim stubbornly.

But there was no settlement there. No sign there had ever been.

Louie could see that for himself, they told him. There was nothing but virgin land. The trees were undisturbed, and old. There were splashes of rolling meadows spotted here and there by other trees, untilled meadows sloping downward from the ridges to the river. And not a blemish nor scar to show that man had ever landed there.

“Fine thing,” Norton chaffed him. “Fine navigation, Louie. Get us clear across the universe in great shape, and then you can’t even find the landing field.”

But Louie was in no mood for banter. He wished Tom would go back and hold the manual controls of the ship instead of letting it hover on automatic. He wished Cal would go back to his stateroom and think. He wished Frank Norton would shut up. He wished they wouldn’t all stand over him, reading his charts over his shoulder.

In irritated silence he reduced the viewscope dimensions to scale, and snapped a picture of the whole island. He took the fresh picture, still moist from its self-developing camera, and laid it beside the chart. Wordlessly, for the benefit of them all, he traced his pencil over the outlines of the chart and their duplicates in the picture. As in comparing fingerprints, he flicked his pencil at the points of identity. There were far too many to ignore. He poked the point of his pencil at Appletree where it was located on the chart. Then he picked out the same location in the picture.

It was not the science of navigation that was wrong.

“It’s just one of those dirty tricks life plays on a fellow,” Tom said over Cal’s shoulder. “You got us in the right place, Louie, but probably in the wrong time slot. You’ve warped us right out of our own time, and Eden hasn’t been discovered yet. Maybe won’t be for another million years. Maybe, back on Earth, man is just discovering fire.”

“Yeah,” Norton agreed. “Or maybe in the wrong dimension. You and your fancy navigation. Now you take a midgit-idgit navigating machine. It wouldn’t know how to pull such fancy short cuts. Take a little longer, maybe, but when we got there we’d be there.”

They were both talking nonsense and knew it. Time and dimensional travel were still purely theoretical. Louie ignored the ribbing with elaborate patience.

“You know what I think,” he asked seriously. “I think the whole thing’s a hoax. I’ll betcha there never was any settlement there. I’ll betcha the colonists have pulled a whingding all the way through.”

“There’s a whole raft of pictures to show they were there,” Frank reminded him.

“Pictures!” Louie answered scornfully. “You think they couldn’t fake pictures?” He thought for a moment. “And where’s their ship, their escape ship?” he asked as a clincher. “They didn’t like it here and have gone off somewhere else, and then covered up by sending reports and pictures on how things would have developed if they’d stayed.”

There was a sense of unreality in the whole conversation. Cal let the talk flow on, knowing it was a reaction to shock. What if a modern ocean liner pulled into the harbor of New York--to find an untouched Manhattan Island in its virgin state?

It couldn’t happen, therefore it wasn’t to be treated seriously.

“Better set up communication with Earth,” Cal said quietly.

In E science the unpredictable, the incredible, the illogical could happen at any time. With a mind more open to acceptance of this, he had felt the run of shock sooner. For them, the shock impact was delayed since their minds rejected the illogical as unreal. For him the human shock came at once, and then, as E thinking took over, passed off.

“Sure, Cal,” Lynwood agreed. It was a measure of their acceptance that they had quite normally fallen into using his first name.

On the emergency signal it took less than three minutes to clear through eleven light-years to E.H.Q.--and then sixteen minutes for the operator at base to find Bill Hayes.

“Sector Chief Hayes here,” the voice said at last through the speaker.

“Gray here, on the Eden matter,” Cal answered. “Any other E’s available?”

“Hm-m,” Hayes answered. “Wong has picked up on a problem in the Pleiades sector, and left this morning. Malinkoff has given out word not to disturb him if the whole universe falls apart. That leaves McGinnis, who, I believe, is spending his time working on the defense against the injunction by Gunderson. An example of the way petty restrictions can bring a fine mind down to trivial problems. But he said call him if you need him.”

“Please,” Cal said. “And you might stay on while I talk to him, if you’re not busy.”

“Sure, E Gray, sure,” Hayes answered. “I’m flashing the operator to locate McGinnis. Seen anything of the police ship, yet? I understand one is following to observe what you do.”

“I’m sure it will be a big help,” Cal said drily. “Not that it matters, so long as it doesn’t get in the way.”

McGinnis came on at that point.

“I’m not yelling for help, yet,” Cal told him. “But here’s what it is like at this end.” He sketched in the details, and heard a sharp gasp at the other end from Hayes.

“Now I’d like to stay on this problem,” he concluded his brief summary. “But somewhere there’s fifty colonists in trouble because this whole thing is out of focus. I’m not a full E, and maybe their lives are more important than my ambition to do a solo job. Certainly more important. Then, trivial as it is, we’d be playing right into Gunderson’s hands if we’ve sent out a boy to do a man’s job.”

“Dismiss the Gunderson side of it,” McGinnis said drily. “It’s inconsequential to the main issue. As for that, I don’t know any more than you do. There’s never been anything like this. Colonists have been wiped out on other planets, sure; but what happened left traces. This one is an oddball, and I’d say you’re as well equipped to handle it as anybody else.”