Chapter III: The First Venusian

When the sky-car was within a thousand miles of the surface, Smith adjusted the currents so that the floor was directed downward. The four changed from the window to the deadlight, and watched the approaching disk with every bit of the excitement and interest they had felt when nearing Mercury.

The doctor had warned them that the heavy atmosphere which Venus was known to possess would prevent seeing as clearly as in the case of the smaller planet. All were much disappointed, however, to find that they were still unable to make out a single definite detail. The great half- shining, half-black world showed nothing but that vaguely streaked, ice- like haze.

There was something very queer about it all. “Strange that we should see no movement in those clouds,” mused the doctor aloud. “That is, if they really are clouds.”

Van Emmon already doubted it. “Just what I was thinking. There ought to be terrific winds; yet, so far as I have seen, there’s been nothing doing anywhere on the surface since we first began to observe it.”

After a while the doctor put away his binoculars and rubbed his eyes. “We might as well descend faster, Smith. Can’t see a thing from here.”

Unhindered by air to impede its progress the sky-car had been hurtling through space at cometary speed. Now, however, Smith added the power of the apparatus to the pull of the planet, so that the disk began to rush toward them at a truly alarming rate. After a few seconds of it Billie found herself unconsciously moving to the side of the geologist.

He looked down at her, understood, and flushed with pleasure. “There’s no danger,” he confidently assured her, with the result that, her courage fortified, the girl moved back to her place again. Van Emmon inwardly kicked himself.

So deceptive was that peculiar fogginess Smith throttled their descent as soon as they had reached the point where the planet’s appearance changed from round to flat. They were headed for the line which marked the boundary of the shadow. This gray “twilight zone” was three or four hundred miles in width; on the right of it--to the east--the dazzling surface of that sunlit vapor contrasted sharply with the all but black mistiness of the starward side. Clearly the zone ought to be temperate enough.

Down they sank. As they came nearer a curious pinkish tint began to show beneath them. Shortly it became more noticeable; the doctor gave a sudden grunt of satisfaction, and Smith stopped the car.

A minute later the doctor had taken a sample of the surrounding ether through his laboratory test-vestibule; and shortly announced that they were now floating in air instead of space.

“Good deal like ours back home, too”--exultingly. “Pretty thin, of course.” He made a short calculation, referring to the aneroid barometer which was mounted on the outer frame of a window, and said he judged that their altitude was about five miles.

The descent continued, Smith using the utmost caution. The other three kept their eyes glued to the deadlight; and their mystification was only equaled by their uneasiness as that motionless, bleary glaze failed absolutely to show anything they had not seen a thousand miles higher. Not a single detail!

“It reminds me,” said the girl in a low voice, “of something I once saw from the top of a hill. It was the reflection of the sun from the surface of a pond; not clear water, but covered with--”

“Good Heavens!” interrupted Van Emmon, struck with the thought. “Can it be that the whole planet is under water?”

Beyond a doubt his guess was justified. There was an oily smoothness about that dazzling haze which made it remarkably like a lake of still and rather dirty water under a bright sun.

But the doctor said no. “Any water I ever heard of would make clouds,” said he; “and we know there’s air enough to guarantee plenty of wind. Yet nothing seems to be in motion.” He was frowning continually now.

It was Billie who first declared that she saw the surface. “Stop,” she said to Smith evenly, and he instantly obeyed. All four gathered around the deadlight, and soon agreed that the peculiarly elusive skin of the planet was actually within sight. However, it was like deciding upon the distance of the moon--as easy to say that it were within arm’s reach as a long ways off.

The doctor went to a window. There he could look out upon the sun, a painfully bright object much larger than it looks from the Earth. It was just “ascending,” and half of it was below the horizon. A blinding streak of light was reflected from a point on the surface not far from the cube. Shading his eyes with his hand the doctor could see that the mysterious crust was absolutely smooth.

On the opposite side of the car the horizon ended in a sunrise glow of a slightly greenish radiance. From that side the pinkish tint of the surface was quite pronounced.

Before going any lower the doctor, struck with an idea, declared: “We always want to remember that this car is perfectly soundproof. Suppose we open the outer door of the vestibule. I imagine we’ll learn something peculiar.”

It was possible to open this door without touching the inner valves, using mechanism concealed within the walls. The moment it was done--the door faced the “north”--pandemonium itself broke loose. A most terrific shrieking and howling came from the outside; it was wind, passing at a rate such as would make a hurricane seem a mere zephyr. The doctor closed the door so that they could think.

“It’s the draft,” he concluded; “the draft from the sun-warmed side to the cold side.”

As for Van Emmon, he was getting out a rope and a heavy leaden weight. On the rope he formed knots every five feet, about twenty of them; and after getting into one of the insulated, aluminum-armored and oxygen- helmeted suits with which they had explored Mercury, he locked himself on the other side of the inner vestibule door and proceeded to “sound.”

To the amazement of all except Billie “bottom” was reached in less than twenty feet. “I thought so,” she said with satisfaction; but she was not at ease until Van Emmon had returned in safety from that booming, whistling turmoil.

His first remark upon removing his helmet almost took them off their feet. “The point is,” said he, throttling his excitement--”the point is, the rope was nearly jerked out of my hands!