Henry Kuttner

“ O'Brien chuckled. "I can imagine. I felt pretty upset for a while, till the crystals explained."
"The crystals what?"
"They're alive, Steve. The ultimate product of evolution, perhaps. Crystalline life. Perfect machines. They can do almost anything. You saw how one created drinkable water, and—well, look here." He beckoned.
A jewel floated close. From it a jet of flame shot, red and brilliant. O'Brien waved his hand; the gem drifted back to its place.
"They can convert energy into matter, you see. It's logical, when you forget about hide-bound science. All matter's made up of energy. ”

“ As his vision adjusted itself, Arnsen made out a pillar of fire that rose from floor to ceiling of the cavern before him. Yet it was not fire. It was something beyond human knowledge. Pure energy, perhaps, wrenched from the locked heart of the atom itself, silently thundering and pouring up like a geyser. The pillar shook. It wavered and rocked, coldly white, intensely brilliant, like a living thing blazing with a power inconceivable. ”

“ He saw the hope slowly fade from O'Brien's eyes. Against his will he said, "We're only on the surface, Doug. Underground—"
"That's right. Maybe there's an entrance, somewhere. But I don't know. We may be a thousand years too late, Steve." His gaze clung to the crystal.
It pulsed triumphantly. Pale flame lanced joyously from it. Alive it was; Arnsen had no doubt of that now. Alive, and exulting to be home once more.
Years too late? There was not the slightest trace of any artifact on this airless planetoid. The bleakness of outer space itself cast a veil over the nameless world. ”

“ It was Steve Arnsen, of course. No doubt about that. No other man had his great breadth of shoulders, his Herculean build. Ten years ago we had been classmates at Midwestern. I remembered rakehell, laughing, handsome Steve Arnsen very well, with his penchant for getting into trouble and out of it again, usually dragging Douglas O'Brien, his room-mate, along with him like the helpless tail of a kite. Poor Doug! He was the antithesis of Arnsen, a thoughtful, studious boy with the shadow of a dream lurking always in his dark eyes. An idealist was Douglas O'Brien, as his Celtic ancestors had been. ”

“ I'm alive, Steve, more alive than I ever have been. All the crystals—Martians, Venusians, beings from other systems and galaxies that landed on this asteroid. Deirdre took them for her own. As she took Hastings. As she has taken me. We serve her now—"
The jewel tore free from Arnsen's grip. It fled back to Circe, brushing her lips, caressing her hair. The other gems, scores of them, danced about the girl like elfin lovers.
Arnsen stood there, sick and nauseated. He understood now. The intricate crystal machines were too complicated to work unless life-force energized them. ”

“ Frozen with sick horror, Arnsen halted, while thoughts poured from the sentient crystal into his mind.
"The—the gray jewel—" His tongue fumbled thickly with the words. He looked up to where the dull gems clung among the shining ones.
"Machines, Steve." The thought lanced into him from the living thing he held. "Robots, not energized. Only one thing can energize them—life-force, vital energy. The flame-pillar does that, through atomic transmutation. It's not earthly science—it was created in another galaxy. There, Deirdre's race had slave people to energize the crystals." ”

“ Arnsen went back to the galley and fried eggs, angry with himself for listening to Hastings' hints. He was more than ever uncomfortable. Back on Earth, it had been easier to disbelieve in any unknown powers that the gray jewel might possess; here, it was different. Space was the hinterland, the waste that bordered the cryptic Outside. The forward step in science that threw open the gates of interplanetary travel had, in a way, taken man back in time to a day when he cowered in a cave, fearing the powers of the dark that lurked in the unknown jungle. Space travel had broken barriers. ”

“ O'Brien's face was tensely eager.
"This is it. Set the ship down, Hastings."
The pilot made a grimace, but bent toward the controls. It was a ticklish task at best, for he had to match the ship's speed to the speed of the asteroid's revolution and circle in, describing a narrowing spiral. Rocket ships are not built for maneuverability. They blast their way to ground and up again through sheer roaring power.
She settled bumpily on the iron-hard surface of the asteroid, and Arnsen looked through the thick visiglass at desolation that struck a chill to his heart. Life had never existed here. ”

“ Arnsen's gaze probed out through the port, to the red globe of Mars, the blinding brilliance of the Milky Way, the enigmatic shadow of the Coal Sack. Out there anything might lie. Life grown from a matrix neither Earthly nor even three-dimensional. ”

“ Circe, who took the minds of living beings and prisoned them in silicate robot-forms.
They felt no resentment. They were content to serve.
"Damn you!" Arnsen mouthed, and took a step forward. His fists balled. His fingers ached to curl about the girl's slender neck and snap it with sharp, vicious pressure.
Her lashes swept up. Her eyes looked into his.
They were black as space, with stars prisoned in their depths. They were not human eyes. ”

“ It drew me here, Steve—"
Arnsen shivered. "It's unbelievable. And that girl isn't human."
"Have you looked into her eyes?"
"No—"
"She isn't human. She is a goddess."
A new thought came to Arnsen. "Where's Tex Hastings? Here?"
"I haven't seen him," O'Brien said. "I don't know where he is."
"Uh-huh. What have you been doing?"
"She brought me here. The crystals took care of me. And Deirdre—" He stood up. "She's summoning me. Wait, Steve—I'll be back."
Arnsen put out a detaining hand; it was useless. O'Brien stepped through the portal and was gone. A dozen crystals swept after him. ”

“ But it isn't up to me, Hastings. I'm super-cargo."
"Yeah. Well, if you—want any help—you can count on me. I've seen space-madness before."
Arnsen snorted. "Space-madness!"
Hastings' eyes were steady. "I may be wrong, sure. But anything can happen out here. We're not on Earth, Mr. Arnsen. Earth laws don't apply. Neither does logic. We're on the edge of the unknown."
"I never thought you were superstitious."
"I'm not. Only I've been around, and seen a lot. That crystal Mr. O'Brien lugs around with him—I never saw anything like that before." He waited, but Arnsen didn't speak. ”

“ I think that beyond Pluto, beyond the farthest limits of the system, a little cruiser may be fleeing into the void, controls set, racing, perhaps, for the darkness of the Coal Sack. In the ship is a man and a jewel. He will die, but I do not think that even in death his hand will relax its grip on that jewel. ”

“ You don't believe in Deirdre. But you'll see her, Steve. The jewel will guide us. It wants to go home—so we'll take it there."
Arnsen scowled and turned away, his big shoulders tense with unreasoning anger. He found himself hating the imaginary being O'Brien had created. Deirdre! His fists clenched.
She did not exist. The major planets and satellites had been explored; the inhabited ones held nothing remotely human. Martians were huge-headed, spindle-legged horrors; Venusians were scaled amphibians, living in a state of feudalism and constant warfare. The other planets ... ”

“ I've known things to drift in from Outside. Funny things, damn funny. The Solar System's like a Sargasso. It catches flotsam from other systems, even other universes, for all I know. One rule I've learned—when you can't guess the answer, it's a good idea to stay clear. ”

“ At last the great valve swung open. He went through the airlock, opened his visiplate, and took great breaths of the fresher air. Oxygen cylinders were racked near by; he swung several into position on his back and clamped them into place. He gulped more caffeine tablets.
Some instinct made him turn and look back through the port. Over the uneven ground a space-suited figure was staggering, a quarter of a mile distant.... ”

“ These crystals build patterns out of basic energy."
Arnsen shook his head. "I don't see it."
O'Brien's voice grew deeper, stronger. "Long ago—very long ago, and in another galaxy, light-years away, there was a civilization far beyond ours. Deirdre is a child of that race. It was—mighty. It passed through our culture-level and went far beyond. Till machines were no longer needed. Instead, the race made the crystals—super-machines, super-robots, with incredible powers locked in them. They supplied all the needs of Deirdre's race."
"Well?"
"This asteroid doesn't belong to our family of planets. ”

“ It was one of Deirdre's servants. Somehow it was lost—wandered away. Cosmic dust collected on it as it moved in an orbit around the sun—for thousands of years, perhaps. Iron atoms. At last it was a meteorite, with the crystal at its heart. So it fell on Earth, and I found it, and it wanted to go home, back to Deirdre. ”