it to that extent?”
Abna did not answer. He was too busy focusing the powerful telescope. At length he got it to his liking, and a blurry image came into view on the scanning screen. A twist of a knob and the view was sharply defined.
“Come and look,” he said briefly, and the Amazon moved to his side.
Silent, they stood surveying the mystery world, the glare of the sun rending the left-hand side misty and indistinct. But they could see enough, such as is was. There seemed to be thousands of tiny squares in the midst of an intolerably bright sea, squares that made neither sense nor reason.
“Any suggestions?” the Amazon asked presently, her eyes beginning to ache with the glare.
“Not yet. Those blobs in an apparently molten sea don’t make any sense—unless they’re mountains or something. Try later when we’re still nearer.”
“If the planet’s molten, it’s no use carrying on,” the Amazon said. “Anyway, we’ll see what happens.”
This they did, in another two hours when they had come measurably nearer the planet. A second telescopic observation was made, and this time it was perfectly clear that the planet was not molten, but covered with some brilliantly gleaming substance. By this time the various squares and queer formations had resolved themselves into buildings—of sorts. Queer sort of buildings, mainly square and very crude. If there were any inhabitants, the distance was still too great for the telescope to pick them up.
“Atmosphere’s all right,” the Amazon said, busy with the analyzer. “About the same as Earth. So also is the gravity. The only thing against our landing on that world is the glare. Think we’ll be able to stand it? Even at this distance we need these blue goggles.”
Abna did not answer the question directly. Instead he said: “The more I study this world the more sure I become that it’s made of some precious metal—eroded and polished to enormous brilliance by the action of wind and weather. And the metal, I think, is silver.”
The Amazon reflected. “Well, it’s possible, I suppose. We can find out when we land—if our eyes will stand it. How long before we touch down?”
“About three hours. We’d better tell Viona and Mexone, then they can be ready.”
The Amazon duly alerted the two, who were deeply sleeping. Presently they came into the control room and without pause, crossed to the observation window, to immediately recoil from it at the terrific glare that smote their eyes.
Viona gasped. “That planet’s just like a huge mirror reflecting the sunlight.”
“Pretty nearly,” Abna agreed, handing over two pairs of goggles. “With a combination of a magnesium-rich sun and a silver world, you’re bound to get plenty of brilliance.”
“Silver?” Mexone repeated in surprise.
“To the best of my belief, yes. I think that planet—the surface anyway—is entirely composed of it—and polished, too, with wind action.”
Viona and Mexone turned back to an examination of the world toward which the Ultra was swiftly speeding. Presently the Amazon also came into the control room, a weapon belt now buckled around her slender waist.
“I don’t know if there’s life, but there’s nothing like being prepared,” she explained, then she crossed to the telescope, focused it swiftly, and stood looking at the reflector-screen.
This time the crude buildings were much clearer, and now the distance had diminished, there were also signs of specks. Sometimes they were in considerable numbers, sometimes isolated. What was immediately apparent was their movement.
“Life!” the Amazon announced. “Beings of some sort. From the way they congregate and the sort of buildings they have, I’d say nomadic tribes.”
Pushing up their goggles, Viona and Mexone swiftly joined her. In silent interest they both took in the view reflected in the screen.
“Whether it’s worth visiting or not I still don’t know,” the Amazon said finally, at which Viona looked up sharply.
“No question of it, surely? Even if we don’t advance these people materially, we’re adding to our store of knowledge, and that’s something. Besides, it’ll save us dying of boredom.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever do that,” Abna commented dryly.
“Conditions, except for the light, are favorable for exploration,” the Amazon said, and outlined what she and Abna had already discovered about the planet.
“And the only other planet in the system is burned out?” Viona asked, puzzled.
“Entirely. Even more of a hulk than our moon is.”
“Wonder why? May be a simple explanation—or a grim one.” Suddenly she swung eagerly to Abna. “Hurry up, dad, and let’s land! I’m sure there’ll be something interesting.”
“You mean you think there will,” Abna corrected. “At the moment you’re experiencing an unusually high elation—but it’s only superficial. Doesn’t mean a thing.”
“Oh?” Viona’s sapphire blue eyes clouded for a moment. “Well, if it’s only phony, it’s certainly got a kick. I feel on top of the world—which sounds rather idiotic way out in the Milky Way,” she concluded, smiling.
“Better arm yourselves,” the Amazon instructed. “There may be trouble. In any case, there’s no sense in being unprepared.”
Viona and Mexone both nodded, and for the next few moments were busy strapping instrument and weapon belts about their waists. Then Viona looked in surprise as the Amazon held out two pairs of goggles.
“From the look of things you’re going to need them,” she explained. “In fact, we all are. The glare reflected from snow is mere twilight compared to this lot.”
Silently the two younger ones slipped the goggles on to their foreheads; then spent the rest of the time just waiting. Abna remained at the control board while the Amazon, her goggles in place, stared down on that incredibly bright world and tried at the same time to fathom her emotions. Had she been a normal woman, she would have realized that she had risen to the point of almost hysterical ecstasy—an abandoned sense in which nothing mattered. Being possessed of a coldly scientific streak, however, she analyzed the condition for what it was and refused to let herself be misled by its promptings. Just the same, she was puzzled.
So presently the Ultra, its velocity lowered to normal flying speed, came into the atmosphere of the planet and thereafter swiftly cleaved downwards toward the brilliant landscape. The Amazon, Viona, and Mexone watched intently, goggles in position, as an agglomeration of the crudely fashioned dwellings came into view.
“Queer sort of planet,” the Amazon commented thoughtfully. “It has a revolution of roughly twenty-two hours: I’ve checked on that, so we’ll get some relief from the glare when the night comes. But as to the landscape, words fail me. Now we’re so near it seems certain that everything except the dwellings is silver.”
“Be worth a bit back home,” Viona mused.
“I wonder,” the Amazon reflected. “Dump
