The Finding of Haldgren Read online

  Produced by Greg Weeks, Graeme Mackreth and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcribers note: This etext was produced from Astounding StoriesApril 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence thatthe U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  [Chet Ballard answers the pinpoint of light that from thecraggy desolation of the moon stabs out man's old call for help.]

  The Finding of Haldgren

  _A Complete Novelette_

  By Charles Willard Diffin

  CHAPTER I

  SOS

  The venerable President of the Federation Aeronautique Internationalehad been speaking. He paused now to look out over the sea of faces thatfilled the great hall in serried waves. He half turned that he might lethis eyes pass over the massed company on the platform with him. TheStratosphere Control Board--and they had called in their representativesfrom the far corners of Earth to hear the memorable words of this agedman.

  _The beasts fell into the pit beyond; their screams ranghorribly as they fell._]

  From the waiting audience came no slightest sound; the men and womenwere as silent as that other audience listening and watching in everyhamlet of the world, wherever radio and television reached. Again thefigure of the President was drawn erect; the scanty, white hair wasthrown back from his forehead; he was speaking:

  " ... And this vast development has come within the memory of one man.I, speaking to you here in this year of 1974, have seen it all come topass. And now I am overwhelmed with the wonder of it, even as I was whenthose two Americans first flew at Kittyhawk.

  "I, myself, saw that. I saw with these eyes the first crudeengine-bearing kites; I saw them from 1914 to 1918 tempered andperfected in the furnace of war; I saw the coming of detonite and thebeginning of our air-transport of to-day. And always I have seen bravemen--men who smiled grimly as they took those first crude controls intheir hands; who laughed and waved to us as they took off in the 'flyingcoffins' of the great war; who had the courage to dare the unknowndangers of the high levels and who first threw their ships through theRepelling Area and blazed the air-trails of a new world.

  "And to-day I, who have seen all this, stand before you and say: 'ThankGod that the spirit of brave men goes on!'

  * * * * *

  "It has never ended--that adventurer strain--that race of Viking men. Wehave two of them here to-night. The whole world is pausing this instantwherever men are on land or water or air to do honor to these two.

  "They do not know why they are here. They have been summoned by theStratosphere Control Board which has delegated to me the honor of makingthe announcement."

  The tall figure was commandingly erect; for an instant the fire of youthhad returned to him.

  "Walter Harkness!" he called. "Chester Bullard! Stand forth that theeyes of the world may see!"

  Two men arose from among the members of the Board and came hesitantlyforward. Strongly contrasting was the darkly handsome face of Harkness,man of wealth and Pilot of the Second Class, and the no less pleasingfeatures of Chet Bullard, Master Pilot of the World. For Bullard'scurling hair was as golden as the triple star upon his chest thatproclaimed his standing to the world and all the air above.

  The speaker was facing them; he turned away for a moment that he mightbow to a girl who was still seated next to the chair where WaltHarkness had been.

  "To Mrs. Harkness," he said, "who, until one month ago, was MademoiselleDelacouer of our own beloved France, I shall have something further tosay. She, too, has been summoned by the Board, but, for now, I addressthese two."

  * * * * *

  Again he was facing the two men; and now he was speaking directly tothem:

  "Pilot Harkness and Master Pilot Bullard, for you the world has beenforced to create a new honor, a new mark of the world's esteem. For youtwo have done what never men have done before. We who have preceded youhave subdued the air; but you, gentlemen, you--the first of all createdbeings to do so--have conquered space.

  "And to you, because of your courage; because of your dauntless pioneerspirit; because of the unconquerable will that drove you and theinventive genius that made it possible--because all these have set youabove us more ordinary men, since they have made you the first men tofly through space--it is my privilege now to show you the honor in whichyou are held by the whole world."

  The firm voice quavered; for a moment the old hands trembled as theylifted a blazing gem from its velvet case.

  "Chester Bullard, Master Pilot, on behalf of the Stratosphere ControlBoard I bestow upon you--"

  "Stop!"

  * * * * *

  Every radiophone in the world must have echoed that sharp command; everytelevision screen must have shown to a breathless audience the figurewhose blond hair was awry, whose lean face was afire with protest, asChet Bullard sprang forward with upraised hand.

  "You're wrong--dead wrong! You're making a mistake. I can't acceptthat!"

  The master pilot's voice was raised in earnest protest. He seemed, forthe moment, unaware of the thousands of eyes that were upon him;heedless of the gasp of amazement that swept sibilantly over the vastaudience like a hissing wave breaking upon the beach. And then his faceflushed scarlet, though his eyes still held steadily upon the startledcountenance of the man who stood transfixed, while the jewel in his handtook the light of the nitron illuminators above and shot it back in aglory of rainbow hues.

  From the seated group on the platform a man came forward. Commander ofthe Air, this iron-gray man; he was head of the Stratosphere ControlBoard, supreme authority on all matters that concerned the air levels ofthe whole world; Commander-in-Chief of all men who laid hands on thecontrols of a ship. He spoke quietly now, and Chet Bullard, at his firstword, snapped instantly to salute, then stood silently waiting.

  "What is the meaning of this?" demanded the voice of authority. Thevoice seemed soft, almost gentle, yet each syllable carried throughoutthe hall with an unmistakable hint of the hardness of a steelite shellbeneath the words.

  "The eyes of the world are upon us here; the whole world is gathered todo you honor. Is it possible that you are refusing that which we offer?Why? You will speak, please!"

  And Chet Bullard, standing stiffly at attention before his commander,spoke in a tone rendered almost boyish by embarrassment.

  * * * * *

  "I can't accept, sir. Pilot Harkness will bear me out in this. You woulddecorate us for being the first to navigate space; but we are not thefirst."

  "Continue!" ordered the quiet voice as Chet paused. "You refer toHaldgren, probably."

  "To Pilot Haldgren, sir."

  "This is absurd! Haldgren was lost. It is supposed that he fell backinto the sea, or struck some untraveled part of Earth."

  "I have checked over his data, sir. It is my opinion that he did notfall; his figures indicate that he must have thrown his ship beyond thegravitational influence of Earth."

  The Commander eyed the master pilot coldly. "And because you _think_that your conclusions are more accurate than those of my owninvestigating committee, you refuse this honor!

  "Attention!" he snapped sharply. "The entire Service of Air is beingrendered ridiculous by your conduct! I command you to accept thisdecoration."

  "You are exceeding your authority, sir. I refuse!"

  Suddenly the frozen quiet of the Commander's face was flushed red withrage. "Give me that insignia!" he demanded, and pointed to the triplestar on Chet Bullard's breast. "Your commission is revoked!"

  * * * * *

  To the last breathless spectator in the farth
est end of the great hallthe white pallor of Chet Bullard's face must have been apparent. Onehand moved toward the emblem on his blouse, the cherished triple star ofa master pilot of the World; then the hand paused.

  "I have still another reason for believing Haldgren is alive," he saidin a cold and carefully emotionless voice. "Are you interested inhearing it?"

  "Speak!" ordered the Commander.

  Chet Bullard, still wearing the triple star, crossed quickly to a phonepanel in the speaker's stand at one side of the stage. He jerked out aninstrument. The buzz of excited whispering that had swept the audiencegave place to utter silence. Each quiet, incisive word that Chet spokewas clearly heard. He gave his call number.

  "Bullard; Master Pilot, First Class; Number U.S. 1; calling Doctor Rocheat Allied Observatory, Mount Everest. Micro-wave, please, and connectthrough for telefoto-projection."

  A few breathless seconds passed, while Chet aimed an instrument ofgleaming chromium and glass, whose cable connections vanished in thephone panel recess. He focused it upon an artificially darkened screenabove and behind the grouped figures on the stage. Then:

  "Doctor Roche?" Chet queried.

  And, before the whole audience, the dark screen came to life to show aclear-cut picture of a man who sat at a telescope; whose hand held aradiophone; and who glanced up frowningly and said: "Yes, this is DoctorRoche."

  Chet's response was immediate.

  "Bullard speaking; Chet Bullard, at New York. When I was in yourobservatory yesterday, Doctor, you said that you had seen flashes oflight on the Moon. You remember that, don't you? You saw them somemonths ago while I was on the Dark Moon."

  * * * * *

  The man in that distant observatory was no longer scowling at thisinterruption of his work. His smile was echoed by the cordial tone ofhis voice that rang clearly through the great hall.

  "Correct, Mr. Bullard. An observer at our two hundred-inch reflectorreported them on two successive nights. They were inside the crater ofHercules."

  From his place at the center of the stage the waiting Commander of Airprotested:

  "Come--come! We know all about that, Bullard. Are you trying to say--"

  The voice of the astronomer was speaking again:

  "You will no doubt be interested to know that the lights occurred againyesterday at about this time.... Let me see if they are on now. I willhave the two hundred-inch instrument used as before, and will show youwhat we see.

  "Watch your screen, but don't expect to find any substantiation of yourwild theory that these lights have a human origin." He laughed softly."No atmosphere to speak of there, you know; we have determined that verydefinitely."

  On the screen the picture of the smiling man flashed off; it wasreplaced by an unflickering darkness that came abruptly into softlyshaded light. There was an expanse of volcanic terrain and a roundorifice of tremendous size, where the sunlight cast black shadows. Othershaded portions about were like rocky, broken ground.

  * * * * *

  To Chet, staring at the strange conformation, came the quick sense ofhanging above that ground and looking down upon it. And he knew that inNew York he was looking through a great telescope down under the worldand was staring straight down into the throat of an extinct volcano onthe Moon.

  There were few wonders of the modern world that could thrill the masterpilot with any feeling of amazement, but here was a new experience. Hewould have spoken, would have ejaculated some word of wonder, but forthe new light that claimed his eyes and brain.

  The volcano, even in death, was ages old; its cold desolation showingplainly on the screen. No fires poured now from a hot throat; themolten sea that once had raged within had hardened and choked that vastthroat with rock that had frozen to make one enormous plain. Ringedabout by the jagged sides of the tremendous volcano, the floor withinseemed smooth by comparison, except for another depression at its upperedge.

  Here was another and smaller crater inside the great ringed wall ofHercules. The light of the sun struck slantingly across to throw oneside of the gigantic cup into shadow, while the opposite rim blaredbrightly in the lunar dawn. And within the smaller crater, too, one sidewas dead black with shadow.

  Dead!--No moving thing--no sign of life or indication that life mightever have been! A dead world, this!--its utter desolation struck Chet'shalf-uttered exclamation to a hoarse whisper of dismay. In all theuniverse what less likely place might one discover wherein to look forman?

  * * * * *

  His gaze was held in fascinated hopelessness on the barren, mountainousring, on the inner inverted cone, on the shadow within that smallercrater--_on a tiny pinpoint of light that was flashing there!_... Hehardly knew when he raised one trembling hand and pointed, while a voicequite unlike his own said huskily:

  "Look! Look! I told you it was so!... There! In that littlecrater!--it's signaling! Three dots--now three dashes--three dots again!The old S O S!--the old call for help! It's Haldgren!"

  Again the screen showed the smiling scientist.

  "Caught them just right," he said, "and glad to be of service. Now, ifthere's anything else I can do--"

  "Thanks!" said Chet in that same strained voice. "Thanks! There'snothing else." A switch clicked beneath his hand, and once more thescreen was dark.

  "Those dots and dashes! The old S O S! Who could doubt now?" Chet wastelling himself this when the Commander's voice broke in harshly.

  "Even you must see the absurdity of this, Bullard. You have heard thisastronomer tell you what the rest of us knew for ourselves--that thereis no air on the Moon; that it is impossible for a human being to livethere. And you would have us believe that a man has lived there for fiveyears!

  "But I am taking your distinguished record into account; I amoverlooking your insubordination and the folly of your reasoning.Perhaps your feeling about Haldgren does you credit; but Haldgren isdead. Now I am giving you another chance: I order you to come forwardand receive this honor, which is an honor to the entire Service of Air."

  * * * * *

  Chet was staring in open amazement. "No air on the Moon," this man hadsaid. And what of that? Neither was there air in interplanetary space,yet he had traveled there. It was inconceivable that this imperious anddictatorial man could be so blind.

  "I can't do it, sir," he tried to explain. "You surely can't disregardthat message, the old call for help. We were using that, you know, whenHaldgren took off five years ago."

  No longer did a masking softness overlay the hard brittleness of theCommander's voice.

  "Your star!" he snapped. "You are no longer in the Service, Bullard!"

  But Chet Bullard, as he stepped forward that the Commander might rip thetriple star from his chest, was not alone. Walt Harkness was only aPilot of the Second Class, but he stripped the emblem from his ownsilken blouse and placed it in the Commander's outstretched hand besideChet's star.

  "Permit me, sir, to share Mr. Bullard's enviable humiliation," heobserved with venomous courtesy; and added:

  "Whatever similar honors were in store for Mrs. Harkness and myself arerespectfully declined. We, too, are of the opinion that Pilot Haldgrendeserves them instead of us."

  For an instant Chet's flashing smile drew his face into friendly lines."Thanks!" he said.

  But all friendliness was erased as he swung back upon the Commander.

  * * * * *

  No thought now of the thousands of staring faces or of the millionsthroughout the world who were watching him and were hearing his words.Chet Bullard clipped those words into curt phrases, and he shot them athis superior officer as if from a detonite gun:

  "You think your judgment better than mine--you've dropped me from theService--and you've got the power to make that stick! But you're wrong,sir, dead wrong! And I'll make you admit it, too.

  "No--don't interrupt! I'm going to say what I please, an
d this is it,Commander:

  "Hang onto that jewel you were giving me. Keep it ready. For I'm goingto the Moon. I'm going to find Haldgren, if he's still living when I getthere. And, at the least, I will bring back some record to show he isthe man we should honor.

  "Haldgren, alive or dead, was the first man to conquer space. NeitherHarkness nor I would steal an atom of his glory. I'll have the proofwhen I come back. And when I come--"

  * * * * *

  For an instant the ready grin that marked Chet's irresistible goodnature lighted up his face with a silent echo of some laugh-provokingthought occurring in his mind.

  "--when I do come, Commander, I will make you eat your words. It's youwho will be out of the Service then, laughed out!"

  The Commander smiled, too; smiled coldly, complacently, while his headshook.

  "Again you are mistaken," he told Chet; "never again will you fly asmuch as one foot above Earth."

  And still Chet's grin persisted. "Commander," he said, "a man in yourposition should not make so many mistakes. I am going--I give youwarning now--going to the Moon. And you haven't enough Patrol Ships inall the air levels of Earth to hold me back, once I'm on my way!"

  And every television screen of Earth showed a remarkable scene: ared-faced, choleric Commander of the Air, who shouted that a group ofofficers might leap forward to do his bidding; a dark-haired man and agirl who sprang beside him. The bodies of the two were interposed for aninstant between the officers' weapons and a fair-haired man.... And thelean young man, with his shock of golden hair thrown back from his face,leaped like a panther in that same instant; drew himself to an openwindow; threw himself through, and vanished among the brilliant lightsand black shadows of a New York night.

  But, as he fought his way free of the throng outside, there came abovethe clamor of an excited crowd the voice of Walt Harkness in crypticwords:

  "The ship is yours, Chet," the fugitive heard Harkness call; "it's incold storage for you!"