The controls of a meteor ship held
steady without the touch of the pilot’s hand.
Chet Bullard was staring at a radiocone on the instrument
board in the control room where a voice from some super-powered
station was calling. His own radio had been crackling
a call, and now this response was coming across the
void.
“Orders from the Stratosphere
Control Board: You will proceed at once to New
York. Radiobeacon 2X12 will guide you down.
Your message received and we acknowledge report of
the finding of the space-flyer, Pilot Haldgren.
Do not discharge any passengers and land nowhere else
than at New York without direct orders of the Board.
Keep your directional signal on full power; our cruisers
will pick you up in the highest level. Signed:
Commander of Air.”
Spud O’Malley, it was, who broke
the silence of the room where only the sound of the
terrific exhaust came thinly through.
“May divils confound him!
And it’s back on the Moon with those other beasts
I’m wishin’ I was. At least a man
can get close enough to slam them in their ugly faces;
but the Commander and his cruisers! Sure, there’s
nothin’ we can do!”
“Just take our medicine,”
said Chet Bullard quietly. “But I have proved
him wrong; Haldgren, here, is the living evidence of
that. And I said I would laugh him from the Service well,
I’m not so sure of that.”
“But surely,” broke in
Haldgren’s booming voice, “there will be
only praise for what you have done. I do not
understand ”
“You don’t know the Commander,
my boy,” Spud broke in dryly. “And
you don’t know that the lad, here, defied him
to his face and ran the gantlet of his cruisers’
guns to get away and go after you.”
“Ah!” grunted the giant.
“And now I understand. It is the old story an
incompetent man in a place of authority ”
Chet broke in.
“Not quite right; this Commander
of ours has done much he is a driver of
men but there are some of us who think he
lacks vision. He can never see beyond the stratosphere
he rules so ably; and his position is supreme.”
“There is still the Governing Council we
will appeal ”
But the master pilot was not listening
to Haldgren’s words; his slim, sensitive hand
was reaching for the ball-control to build up still
more the tremendous blast of a forward exhaust that
was checking their speed and making them as heavy
as if their bodies were of meteoric iron.
A forward lookout showed a black globe;
its circle was rimmed with fire from the Sun that
it blotted out. A hemisphere of night lay below the
black, mysterious night of a waiting Earth. But
one strong signal came in on the instruments at Chet’s
side to show him where on that horizon was New York;
and the call of a flagship of cruisers was flashing
before him as the lift of the Repelling Area was felt.
“Follow!” flashed the
order. “You will follow to New York!”
And, through the black night, faint flashes of light
marked the fleet of swift guardians of the skies that
closed in, then swept downward and out an
impregnable convoy about the speeding, roaring ship.
And there was that in Chet’s
face as he handled the controls that brought Anita
Haldgren to his side that she might lift his free hand
in wordless comfort and press it to her face.
That venerable and beloved man, the
President of the Federation Aéronautique
Internationale, stood silent before a vast audience.
Throughout the great auditorium was silence; each of
the gathered thousands was listening to the shrieking
sirens from the landing field on the roof overhead.
Skylights above showed the night air
ablaze with red, through which the vivid green of
landing signals pierced in staccato bursts. From
the roof of that building to the highest level of
the stratosphere the air was cleared; no craft of
the Service would venture to pierce the barrage of
light and radio waves that hemmed that aerial shaft.
And down the shaft, in a thunder of roaring exhausts,
came a shining shape.
She sparkled and flashed in the crimson
and green of that emergency light, and from her bow
poured a tornado that blasted the air, then streamed
out behind in hot gas like a comet of flame. Then
the thunders died; the shining shape turned once slowly
in air to show her blunt nose and cylindrical body
before she settled softly as a homing bird to the
embrace of great waiting arms of steel. And, inside
the building, a white-haired man was saying:
“They are here! Thank God,
they are here! Their radio has prepared us; our
signals have guided them home. And now it is not
New York, nor even the United States of America alone
who attends; the whole world will be summoned.
Look!”
Behind, and high above him on a wall,
was a radio panel. Its signal lamps went suddenly
dark. The thin, blue-veined hand of the speaker
was pointing.
“Only twice has the world-call
flashed: once when the Molemen came and the future
of the world was at stake; once when the Dark Moon
crashed down from the void and the serpents of space
menaced aerial traffic. And now once
again! the whole world is summoned!
Every city and hamlet of Earth every ship
of the air and the sea every vessel on the
ocean, under the ocean, and in the air levels above ”
His voice broke sharply. From
the panel there came a thin call, a quivering that
was more a trembling than a sound; it reached out to
touch raspingly the nerves of every listener.
Then the whole board burst forth in a flash of fire
where a flaming crystal leaped to life and
none could see that pulsing flame without thrilling
to the knowledge that it was calling a whole world
with its wordless summons.
The light died; a television detector
whined as its motors came to speed; and each watcher
knew that the waiting world was connected with that
auditorium in New York; all that happened, there each
sight and sound was circling the globe.
An announcer’s voice roared
briefly before the regulator cut down on its volume.
“You are seeing the Radio-central
Auditorium in New York. On the landing stage
above, after a journey of five hundred thousand miles,
a strange craft has settled to rest. Its pilot:
Chester Bullard, once rated as Master Pilot of the
World! Its journey, now safely completed:
from the Earth to the Moon, and return!
“The world is waiting to greet
Pilot Bullard, though of this he, as yet, is unaware.
World-wide radio control is now transferred to Radio-central
Auditorium in New York! They are coming!
They are entering!”
But the thousands gathered in that
great hall heard no other words from the radiocone.
Their attention was focused upon the broad stage, where,
descending from a lift, a strange group stepped out
upon the stage, stood an instant in startled wonder
that was near embarrassment, then took the seats to
which they were shown.
And again the venerable President
of the Federation Aéronautique Internationale
was speaking.
“It is less than a month since
I stood here before you, when, as again is true to-night,
the entire personnel of the executives of the Stratosphere
Control Board was gathered to do honor to the pioneers
of space the discoverer ”
On the stage near the speaker, Chet
Bullard stared in consternation at a girl in a pilot’s
suit as grimed and ragged as his own. His gaze
passed on to the set features of Pilot O’Malley to
the blue eyes of a flaxen-haired giant then
on to where Walt Harkness and Diane, his wife, sat
regarding him with happy smiles. Dimly Chet heard
the man at the speakers’ stand.
“ and on that other
occasion, Mr. Bullard refused a decoration tendered
him and marking him as the first to travel through
airless space.
“I have here” the
speaker smiled slightly as he extended his hand where
a jewel flashed fire from a velvet case “the
identical jewel and medal. And to-night, while
the peoples of Earth are gathered throughout the world
to do honor to Mr. Bullard, it has been given to me
the proud privilege of welcoming him home.”
He turned and held out a beckoning
hand toward Chet. In a daze the younger man arose
and moved beside the one who had called him.
“And now, Chester Bullard, on
behalf of the Governing Council of the Ruling Nations
of this Earth, I greet you: Pilot of the Stratosphere
no longer but Pilot of Endless Space!
The world welcomes you; and, through me, it places
in your hands this jewel.
“But you will observe that we
older ones may still learn, and we do not repeat our
former mistake. We hand you this medal, emblematic
of the first penetration of space, to do with as you
will.”
The thin hand was shaking as the speaker
turned and swept the audience with one all-inclusive
gesture.
“To you who are before me now;
to you out beyond wherever parallels of longitude
and latitude are known I present the Columbus
of the Stars! Chester Bullard!”
And suddenly Chet found himself alone
in a pandemonium of sound. From the countless
faces that blurred into one unrecognizable sea came
a roar of human voices like waves thundering against
storm-worn cliffs; above the clamor was the sound
of shrieking sirens; and through all, when it seemed
that no other sound could be heard, came the full-volume,
nerve-stunning clangor from the radiocone’s wide-opened
throat as the trumpets and brass of all the monster
bands of Earth broke forth, under radio control, in
one synchronous song till even that was
drowned under the roaring welcomes in strange tongues
as the nations of Earth cut in.
And Chet Bullard, his blouse still
torn where a Commander of Air had ripped off a three-starred
emblem of a Master Pilot, shook his blond head to
clear it of the confusion that seemed beating him down.
And he stared and stared, not at the rioting throng
before him, but at something he could in part comprehend a
glowing, flashing jewel that rested in his hand.
And slowly there crept into his eyes a look of understanding,
while a ghost of a smile twitched and tugged at the
corners of his mouth.
The hall, which one instant was a
bedlam of roaring voices, went silent as Chet Bullard
raised his hand. He was still smiling as he bowed
toward the white-haired man whose happy face belied
the moisture in his eyes; then he faced the throng,
and his voice held no hint of trembling or uncertainty.
“The Columbus of the Stars!
I thank you for that title, which I can accept only
most humbly. For I ask you to go back with me
into history and remember, as I am remembering, that
before Columbus there were others whose names are
lost.
“The Norsemen those
Vikings of old! who dared the unknown seas,
were first. And again history repeats. But
this time the pioneer will not remain unknown.
I have been to the Moon; I have reached out into space but
I followed another’s trail.
“Frithjof Haldgren!” he
shouted, and extended a hand toward the gentle giant
whose face was aflame as he came to Chet’s side.
“Frithjof Haldgren, I present you to the world.
Only one can be the first; and yours is the honor
and glory. This medal is yours alone; I place
it where it belongs!”
And Frithjof Haldgren, white of face
and lips now instead of fiery red, stood silent and
trembling while Chet fastened a jewel upon his grimy
tattered blouse; then retired to his chair as if beaten
back by the rolling waves of sound.
But to Chet, as he watched the man
go, came a quick sense of disappointment. Unconsciously,
his hand went to the same place on his own chest where
had rested an emblem he had prized above all else and
now his searching fingers found only the mark of his
disgrace. Then he knew again that the aged President
was speaking, while he held Chet beside him with one
detaining hand.
“We older ones have served,
perhaps; we have done what we could; we pray that
the world is better for our efforts! And we shall
continue to serve; yet it is to youth that we must
look for the progress which is to come.
“Today we face a new life whose
horizons, once bounded by the limiting air, have been
pushed back. We have conquered space, and before
us is the waiting marvel of man’s extension
of his activities throughout the universe.
“How far shall we go in this
new and endless sphere? With interplanetary travel,
what is our goal? Only youth can give the answer.
And in the hands of youth must the command of this
great adventure be placed.
“Gentlemen, the Governing Council
of the Ruling Nations of this Earth has created a
new command. By the acts of this man who stands
beside me, and by his fellow-explorer, Walter Harkness,
the Council has been forced to take this step.
“That command will rank second
only to the Governing Council itself; a body of men
shall compose it who shall be known as the Interstellar
Board of Control.” He turned squarely toward
Chet. “I am placing in your hands, Mr.
Bullard, your commission as Commander of that Board.
The best minds of all nations will be at your call.
Will you accept will you gather these men
about you and do your part in this great work for
the greater future of mankind?”
The ears of a listening world waited
long for an answer. But the eyes of that world
saw a figure whose blond head was suddenly lowered
as if to hide a betrayal of what was in his heart;
they saw him raise his bowed head to stare mutely
toward a girl whose eyes of blue were swimming with
happy tears as she gave him a trembling smile and
only then did they see Chet Bullard draw himself erect,
while his voice went out with the speed of light to
a waiting world.
“I accept, Mr. President. Proudly humbly I
accept!”
And the eyes of the world, if they
were understanding eyes, must have smiled with his,
as the Commander of the Interstellar Board of Control
grasped, among others, the congratulatory hand of his
subordinate, the Commander of Air.
But if there were any who expected
to read mockery in those smiling eyes, they had yet
to learn the measure of Commander Bullard “Bullard,
of the I.B.C.!”