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  Spacewrecked on Venus

  By NEIL R. JONES

  [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Wonder StoriesQuarterly Winter 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  A beam of electricity leaped from the ship. Instantlyshafts of light spread from the nearest projectile to the ones on eitherside of it.]

  * * * * *

  NEIL R. JONES

 

  Interplanetary commerce, if and when it begins, will be fraught with all of the dangers that accompany pioneering expeditions. There will be the terrible climatic conditions on other worlds to be faced, strange beasts and plants; and perhaps desperate and greedy men. That was the case when every new land was opened on earth and it may be expected to be true when we conquer the solar planets.

  Mr. Jones understands these things well. His vivid imagination, his sense of a good story and his knowledge of what may be expected upon other worlds combine to make this a novel and exciting yarn. And, as is always desired, it comes to a smashing finish with a surprising ending.

  His scientific weapons are quite novel, but so realistically does he portray them, that they strike one as being quite possible and likely to be used at some future time.

  * * * * *

  I stood looking from the space ship into the dense fog banks whichrolled about us. We were descending through the dense cloud blanket ofVenus. How near we actually were to the ground I did not know. Nothingbut an unbroken white haze spread mistily, everywhere I looked.

  With jarring suddenness, a terrific shudder throbbed the length of the_C-49_, rattling the loose articles on the desk nearby. The dictatyper,with which I had lately been composing a letter, crashed violently tothe floor. I reeled unsteadily to the door. It was nearly flung open inmy face.

  "Hantel!"

  Captain Cragley steadied himself on the threshold of my room. Thecaptain and I had become intimate friends during the trip from theearth. In his eyes I saw concern.

  "What's wrong?" I queried.

  "Don't know yet! Come--get out of there, man! We may have to use theemergency cylinder!"

  I followed Cragley. The crew, numbering seven, were gathered in theobservation chamber. Most of the passengers were there too.

  The _C-49_ carried twelve passengers, all men, to the Deliphonsettlement of Venus. In the earlier days of space travel, few womendared the trip across space.

  Several of the crew worked feverishly at the controls above theinstrument board.

  "What's our altitude?" demanded Cragley.

  "Fifteen thousand feet!" was the prompt reply. "Our drop is better thana hundred feet a second!"

  Worried wrinkles creased the kindly old face of Captain Cragley. Hedebated the issue not one moment.

  "Into the emergency cylinder--everybody!"

  Herding the passengers ahead of them, Cragley's men entered acompartment shaped like a long tube, ending in a nose point. When wewere buckled into a spiral of seats threading the cylinder, Cragleypulled the release lever. Instantly, the cylinder shot free of thedoomed _C-49_. For a moment we dropped at a swifter pace than theabandoned ship. After that, our speed of descent was noticeablydecreased.

  Peering at the proximity detector, Cragley announced that we were quitesafe from a collision. The _C-49_ was far below us and dropping fast.

  "No danger now," he assured the passengers. "We'll come down like afeather. Then all we have to do is radio Deliphon to send out a ship forus."

  Cragley was equal to the situation. In this year of 2342, when the daysof pioneer space flying were commencing to fade into history, itrequired capable men to cope with interplanetary flight. If Cragleybrought his crew and passengers safely through this adversity and alsosalvaged the valuable cargo of the _C-49_, it was another feather in hiscap.

  Quentin, second to Cragley in command, labored over the sendingapparatus. Quentin looked up at his superior officer with an uneasyexpression. The captain was quick to sense trouble.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I don't like the looks of this," was Quentin's reply. "The senderrefuses to function properly. I can do nothing with it."

  Cragley's face bore a troubled look. He stepped to the side of hissubordinate for a hasty inspection of the radio sender.

  "The receiver plate doesn't light up, either," said Quentin. "Looks tome as though someone has been tampering with this."

  In their spiral of seats, the passengers looked silently and gravelyupon the cylinder base where Cragley and his staff were gathered overthe apparatus. A dull glow of cloudy light coming in through thetransparent interstices of the descending cylinder softened andcounteracted the glow of the radium lights. An intangible feeling ofdepression hung in the air.

  "Elevation, five hundred feet!" announced one of the crew from hisposition at the altitude dial.

  "Make a landing," ordered Cragley. "We can't be very far from where the_C-49_ fell. If there's enough of the ship left, we may be able todiscover the cause of this accident."

  Down through the lush vegetation, the cylinder felt its way, droppingvery slowly. Finally it came to rest on a knoll.

  "How far are we from the ship?" queried the captain.

  "About seventeen hundred feet south of it, I'd say."

  "We'll go outside and get organized. We've got to get that platinumshipment off the _C-49_ and get into communication with headquarters atDeliphon somehow. The proximity detector tells us we're over twohundred miles from there."

  One of the passengers spoke up with a suggestion. "Can't we go the restof the way in this? You can send back for what's left of the ship. I'vean important reason for arriving in Deliphon quickly. If--"

  "Not a chance," cut in Cragley, both amused and annoyed. "The cylinderwouldn't take us anywhere. All the cylinder is good for is an emergencydescent. It has no driving power."

  * * * * *

  Preparations were made for a trip to the wrecked space ship.

  "Might I go with you and the men, Captain?" I ventured.

  "Sure, Hantel, come along! I'll have to leave part of the crew here withthe passengers and the cylinder, so I'm glad to have a few volunteers."

  "Count on me, then," another of the passengers spoke up.

  I recognized him as Chris Brady. He was a man about my own age, possiblyyounger, perhaps in his late twenties. Brady and I had become friendsduring the trip, having spent many hours together. This was my secondtrip to the clouded planet. Brady had made many trips to Venus, spendingconsiderable time among the colonies. I had learned much about the manwhich had interested me.

  Our party consisted of Cragley, Brady, three of the crew, four otherpassengers and myself. Well armed, we set out through the yellow junglein search of the remains of the _C-49_. Quentin insisted that it was notfar away according to the proximity detector which was especiallyattuned to the bulk and metal composition of the space ship.

  Progress was difficult in spots, and we found it necessary to hack ourway through lush growths of vegetation, taking numerous detours aroundinterlaced verdure. We were out of sight of the cylinder almostimmediately.

  One of the passengers who had volunteered to accompany us complained atthe prospects of becoming lost. Cragley calmed the man's anxiety with abrief explanation of the directometer he carried. It was an elaborateperfection of the old compass. On a square plate, our position wasalways designated in relation to the _C-49_. By telescopic
condensationof the field, Cragley was capable of bringing Deliphon on theinstrument. It was well over two hundred miles beyond us.

  "If Quentin doesn't have that televisor fixed by the time we get back,we are in a jam."

  "There's the ship!"

  We looked where the pointing arm of Brady designated. The wrecked spaceship lay imbedded in the murky waters of a swamp, fully one-third of itsbulk out of sight. Above, the torn and tangled mass of vegetation borewitness to the rapid descent of the craft. Mighty branches were tornaway from giant trees. The ship itself was enwrapped by interlacedcreepers which it had ripped loose from the upper foliage.

  We waded through warm, stagnant water which teemed with marine life. Wewere halfway to the side of the _C-49_ when a cry from behind startledme into action. I turned and stared into the gaping jaws of a