Destination: Saturn

XIX

Whatever it was, the invisible body into which the Destiny had rammed had stopped the sleek little yacht cold. The first thing to do was assess the ship for damage. Luckily, the yacht had been moving very slowly when it rammed into the invisible planet, or whatever it was; hence Ajax and Emily soon discovered to their relief that, outside of some sprung seams and a severed power-line or two, the Destiny was not badly hurt.

Using Fido, the radio-controlled repairs robot, for the outside work, the popped seams caulked temporarily and Ajax rapidly spliced in replacement cables, restoring light and power. The Destiny was spaceworthy again.

But she couldn’t fly. Not stuck nose-deep into the invisible surface of the mysterious planet.

Clad in a spacesuit, Ajax left the cabin and clambered outside. The stars burned cold and clear, unflickering in the vacuum of deep space. Saturn hung like a gigantic lemon drop away to the left, banded by glittering rings. The erratic flashes of hurtling Saturnian ships formed a distracting sight, but he tore his attention away from this and focused on the problem at hand. Anchoring his magnetic boots firmly against the dented hull of the yacht, Ajax inched forward, giving Emily a reassuring wave of the hand as he passed the observation ports.

The pointed needle-prow was dented like a half-collapsed accordion. He clambered over the folds of metal—was soundly clonked on the head, or helmet, by an invisible projection—and cursed sulphurously for a while until the spinning lights cleared away. Then he reached up and felt the projection gingerly. It felt like a bent steel beam. He tested his boot-magnets and found it was steel: invisible steel! Then, taking a deep breath and thinking himself into the role of Ajax Calkins, intrepid space-explorer, he climbed out onto the surface of the mystery planet.

It was an eerie and definitely uncomfortable sensation, standing on an invisible surface. Peering down, he could see the stars glinting between his feet. Stepping carefully, he walked a bit, dragging his feet in the shuffling, spaceman’s stride so that the magnetic boots did not break contact with the surface. It was like the old phrase, “walking on air”—except that there was, of course, no air.

He reached the edge of the steel surface, a jagged hole through which the Destiny had plunged. With great care, he clambered into the opening, gingerly avoiding the ragged edges which might puncture his suit. Once inside, he found himself standing on a level surface. Behind him, the crumple-nosed yacht hung motionless at a slight angle.

He pressed on.

It is certainly a weird feeling to walk through invisible rooms, as Ajax discovered. You keep bumping into walls and odd-angled objects, and missing doors. But then he turned a corner, and found his surroundings fading into visibility. He was in a metal world!

Puzzled, Ajax stopped and peered about him. Halls and corridors and chambers, stretched away in endless profusion in all directions. Either he had penetrated the mystery world to such an extent that the invisibility-effect wore off, or he was within the field of its influence. He wondered if he was himself now invisible, from Emily’s viewpoint. He decided he must be…

He wandered about cautiously, one hand hovering near his belt-gun. No telling what might be encountered in this robotic planet… he hoped there would be no more robots. Alcmene’s crew of animated erector sets was enough to satisfy him, robotwise, for a long time.

Then he found a viewer on the door of a closed-off chamber. Carefully he flicked it on… and waited with bated breath while the screen cleared. He now peered within a small chamber to see… to see…

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “No more surprises… please!”

He looked again. Yep. It was no use pretending he didn’t see them…

Inside the room were Ajax Calkins and Emily Hackenschmidt.

Frozen stiff.

With the top of their heads off.

Ajax took a deep breath, but then released it with a whoosh.

There was just no point in a grown man screaming.

The Wuj watched the plates with delight. The Saturnian squadron was really going batty. Now they were forming into a vast hollow sphere, all the ships pointing inwards. Gleefully, the little spider-being slapped the red pedals in a combination he had been testing for the past half hour.

The image of the Ajaxian planetoid-ship popped into being in the center of the globe of ships. As if that were the signal the Amoeba-Men had been waiting for, they began to converge upon it. The sphere began to shrink. Laser guns in full blaze, the squadron hurtled towards the center of the sphere-formation.

It was a grand and glorious sight. Driving at full blast and coming from all sides, the Saturnian ships drove right through the illusory planetoid, and crashed into each other in a spectacular holocaust. After the flash of light died down, there was nothing left but a fiery ball of molten metal.

The Wuj whooped with glee. Oh, if only his dear master could be here to see the splendid triumph!

Just then the floor jumped and something went bongk.

The Wuj wobbled a bit, but he stayed on his feet. After all, if you happen to have eight legs, it takes quite a bump to knock you off your feet. The little spider-being hobbled over to the controls and watched for warning lights.

Aha! There had been a penetration of the planetoid-ship’s hull at Sector F-12, Band 109-IV; air was leaking out of the surface compartments, but no further damage seemed forthcoming. Probably a meteor… but the Wuj decided to have a look himself. Now that the Saturnian patrol had obligingly destroyed itself, he was needed no longer in the control room to operate the mirage-making mechanism.

The Wuj clambered into his specially-built spacesuit. It had been tailored (so to speak) to his measurements, and wearing it he presented the distinct appearance of a sort of robot octopus with a globular body through whose small transparent port his goggling eyes and pugdog snout peered. His eight ungainly legs splayed out like a brace of water-pipes all about the sphere. He was very proud of his suit.

It was but the work of moments to clatter though the empty corridors to the point of impact… but he never got there. For his route, a short-cut, took him past the huge refrigerator wherein he had cleverly tricked and trapped the phony Ajax and Emily.

But it seemed his cleverness has backfired, for as he came spider-footing it down the corridor, he saw the fake Ajax outside the refrigerator-room, peering in through the viewer. From somewhere, the phony Ajax had gotten a spacesuit, he noticed. The Wuj summoned his courage and crept up on the Saturnian hoaxer. One of his eight legs carefully drew his blaster… the Saturnian’s spacesuit had a belt-holster, he noticed… but the Wuj decided the best thing to do was to blast the blighter down before it could spot him.

This time, he would make doubly certain he had the hoaxer! He’d simply creep up on him and shoot him in the back! Oh, how proud the real Ajax would be of his loyal, devoted friend if he could only see him now, defending Ajaxia to the death!

Creeping up on the spacesuited alien, the Wuj aimed his pistol at the Saturnian’s back…