The God in the Box Read online

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  Transcriber's Note: This e-text was produced from Astounding Stories,September, 1931. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence thatthe U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  "_A little object lesson, as it were!_"]

  The God in the Box

  _By Sewell Peaslee Wright_

  [Sidenote: In the course of his Special Patrol duties Commander JohnHanson resolves the unique and poignant mystery of "toma annerson."]

  This is a story I never intended to tell. I would not even tell it nowif it were not for the Zenians.

  Understand that I do not dislike the Zenians. One of the best officersI ever had was a Zenian. His name was Eitel, and he served under me onthe old _Tamon_, my first command. But lately the Zenians have maderather too much of the exploits of Ame Baove.

  The history of the Universe gives him credit, and justly, for makingthe first successful exploration in space. Baove's log of that trip isa classic that every school-child knows.

  But I have a number of friends who are natives of Zenia, and they fretme with their boastings.

  "Well, Hanson," they say, "your Special Patrol Service has donewonderful work, largely under the officership of Earth-men. But afterall, you have to admit that it was a Zenian who first mastered space!"

  Perhaps it is just fractiousness of an old man, but countlessrepetitions of such statements, in one form or another, have irritatedme to the point of action--and before going further, let me say, forthe benefit of my Zenian friends, that if they care to dig deeplyenough into the archives, somewhere they will find a brief report ofthese adventures recorded in the log of one of my old ships, the_Ertak_, now scrapped and forgotten. Except, perhaps, by some few likemyself, who knew and loved her when she was one of the newest andfinest ships of the Service.

  I commanded the _Ertak_ during practically her entire active life.Those were the days when John Hanson was not an old man, writing ofbrave deeds, but a youngster of half a century, or thereabouts, andfull of spirit. Sometimes, when memory brings back those old days, itseems hard for me to believe that John Hanson, Commander of the_Ertak_, and old John Hanson, retired, and a spinner of ancient yarns,are one and the same--but I must get on to my story, for youth isimpatient, and from "old man" to "old fool" is a short leap for ayouthful mind.

  * * * * *

  The Special Patrol Service is not all high adventure. It was not soeven in the days of the _Ertak_. There was much routine patrolling, andthe _Ertak_ drew her full share of this type of duty. We hated it, ofcourse, but in that Service you do what you are told and say nothing.

  We were on a routine patrol, with only one possible source of interestin our orders. The wizened and sour-faced scientists the Universeacclaims so highly had figured out that a certain planet, thus farunvisited, would be passing close to the line of our patrol, and ourorders read, "if feasible," to inspect this body, and if inhabited,which was doubted, to make contact.

  There was a separate report, if I remember correctly, with a lot offigures. This world was not large; smaller than Earth, as a matter offact, and its orbit brought it into conjunction with our system onlyonce in some immemorable period of time. I suppose that record isstored away, too, if anybody is interested in it. It was largelycomposed of guesses, and most of them were wrong. These white-coatedscientists do a lot of wild guessing, if the facts were known.

  However, she did show up at about the place they had predicted.Kincaide, my second officer, was on duty when the television disk firstpicked her up, and he called me promptly.

  "Strobus"--that was the name the scientists had given this planet wewere to look over--"Strobus is in view, sir, if you'd like to look herover," he reported. "Not close enough yet to determine anything ofinterest, however, even with maximum power."

  I considered for a moment, scowling at the microphone.

  "Very well, Mr. Kincaide," I said at length. "Set a course for her.We'll give her a glance, anyway."

  "Yes, sir," replied Kincaide promptly. One of the best officers in theService, Kincaide. Level-headed, and a straight thinker. He was a manfor any emergency. I remember--but I've already told that story.

  * * * * *

  I turned back to my reports, and forgot all about this wanderingStrobus. Then I turned in, to catch up somewhat on my sleep, for we hadhad some close calls in a field of meteors, and the memory of aprevious disaster was still fresh in my mind.[1] I had spent my "watchbelow" in the navigating room, and now I needed sleep rather badly. Ifthe scientists really want to do something for humanity, why don't theyshow us how to do without food and sleep?

  [1] See "The Ghost World" in the April issue of Amazing Stories.--Ed.

  When, refreshed and ready for anything, I did report to the navigatingroom, Correy, my first officer, was on duty.

  "Good morning, sir," he nodded. It was the custom, on ships Icommanded, for the officers to govern themselves by Earth standards oftime; we created an artificial day and night, and disregarded entirely,except in our official records, the enar and other units of theUniversal time system.

  "Good morning, Mr. Correy. How are we bearing?"

  "Straight for our objective, sir." He glanced down at the two glowingcharts that pictured our surroundings in three dimensions, to reassurehimself. "She's dead ahead, and looming up quite sizeably."

  "Right!" I bent over the great hooded television disk--the ponderoustype we used in those days--and picked up Strobus without difficulty.The body more than filled the disk and I reduced the magnificationuntil I could get a full view of the entire exposed surface.

  Strobus, it seemed, bore a slight resemblance to one view of my ownEarth. There were two very apparent polar caps, and two continents,barely connected, the two of them resembling the numeral eight in thewriting of Earth-men; a numeral consisting of two circles, one abovethe other, and just touching. One of the roughly circular continentswas much larger than the other.

  "Mr. Kincaide reported that the portions he inspected consistedentirely of fluid sir," commented Correy. "The two continents nowvisible have just come into view, so I presume that there are noothers, unless they are concealed by the polar caps. Do you find anyindications of habitation?"

  "I haven't examined her closely under high magnification," I replied."There are some signs...."

  * * * * *

  I increased power, and began slowly searching the terrain of thedistant body. I had not far to search before I found what I sought.

  "We're in luck, Mr. Correy!" I exclaimed. "Our friend is inhabited.There is at least one sizeable city on the larger continent and ...yes, there's another! Something to break the monotony, eh? Strobus isan 'unknown' on the charts."

  "Suppose we'll have trouble, sir?" asked Correy hopefully. Correy was aprime hand for a fight of any kind. A bit too hot-headed perhaps, but aman who never knew when he was beaten.

  "I hope not; you know how they rant at the Base when we have to protectourselves," I replied, not without a certain amount of bitterness."They'd like to pacify the Universe with never a sweep of adisintegrator beam. 'Of course, Commander Hanson' some silver-sleevewill say, 'if it was absolutely vital to protect your men and yourship'--ugh! They ought to turn out for a tour of duty once in a while,and see what conditions are." I was young then, and the attitude of myconservative superiors at the Base was not at all in keeping with myown views, at times.

  "You think, then, that we will have trouble, sir?"

  "Your guess is as good is mine," I shrugged. "The people of thisStrobus know nothing of us. They will not know whet
her we come asfriends or enemies. Naturally, they will be suspicious. It is hard toexplain the use of the menore, to convey our thoughts to them."

  I glanced up at the attraction meter, reflecting upon the estimatedmass of the body we were approaching. By night we should be nearing heratmospheric envelope. By morning we should be setting down on her.

  "We'll hope for the best, sir," said Correy innocently.

  I bent more closely over the television disk, to hide my smile. I knewperfectly what the belligerent Correy meant by "the best."

  * * * * *

  The next morning, at atmospheric speed, we settled down swiftly overthe larger of the two continents, Correy giving orders to thenavigating room while I divided my attention between