The Sky Trap
isn't H2O. It's HO.A molecular arrangement like that occurs in the upper Solar atmosphere,but nowhere on Earth. And there's a thin sprinkling of hydrocarbonmolecules out there too. Hydrocarbon appears ordinarily as methane gas,but out there it rings up as CH. Methane is CH4. And there are alsoscandium oxide molecules making unfamiliar faces at us. And oxide ofboron--with an equational limp."
"Gee," muttered Slashaway. "We're up against it, eh?"
Lawton was squatting on his hams beside an emergency 'chute opening onthe deck of the Penguin's weather observatory. He was letting down aspliced beryllium plumb line, his gaze riveted on the slowly turninghorizontal drum of a windlass which contained more than two hundred feetof gleaming metal cordage.
Suddenly as he stared the drum stopped revolving. Lawton stiffened, astartled expression coming into his face. He had been playing a hunchthat had seemed as insane, rationally considered, as his wild idea aboutthe bulkhead porosities. For a moment he was stunned, unable to believethat he had struck pay dirt. The winch indicator stood at one hundredand three feet, giving him a rich, fruity yield of startlement.
One hundred feet below him the plummet rested on something solid thatsustained it in space. Scarcely breathing, Lawton leaned over thewindlass and stared downward. There was nothing visible between the shipand the fleecy clouds far below except a tiny black dot resting onvacancy and a thin beryllium plumb line ascending like an interrogationpoint from the dot to the 'chute opening.
"You see something down there?" Slashaway asked.
Lawton moved back from the windlass, his brain whirling. "Slashawaythere's a solid surface directly beneath us, but it's completelyinvisible."
"You mean it's like a frozen cloud, sir?"
"No, Slashaway. It doesn't shimmer, or deflect light. Congealed watervapor would sink instantly to earth."
"You think it's all around us, sir?"
Lawton stared at Slashaway aghast. In his crude fumblings the gymslugger had ripped a hidden fear right out of his subconsciousness intothe light.
"I don't know, Slashaway," he muttered. "I'll get at that next."
* * * * *
A half hour later Lawton sat beside the captain's desk in the controlroom, his face drained of all color. He kept his gaze averted as hetalked. A man who succeeds too well with an unpleasant task may developa subconscious sense of guilt.
"Sir, we're suspended inside a hollow sphere which resembles a huge,floating soap bubble. Before we ripped through it it must have had aplastic surface. But now the tear has apparently healed over, and theshell all around us is as resistant as steel. We're completely bottledup, sir. I shot rocket leads in all directions to make certain."
The expression on Forrester's face sold mere amazement down the river.He could not have looked more startled if the nearer planets hadyielded their secrets chillingly, and a super-race had appeared suddenlyon Earth.
"Good God, Dave. Do you suppose something has happened to space?"
Lawton raised his eyes with a shudder. "Not necessarily, sir. Somethinghas happened to _us_. We're floating through the sky in a huge,invisible bubble of some sort, but we don't know whether it has anythingto do with space. It may be a meteorological phenomenon."
"You say we're floating?"
"We're floating slowly westward. The clouds beneath us have beenreceding for fifteen or twenty minutes now."
"Phew!" muttered Forrester. "That means we've got to--"
He broke off abruptly. The Perseus' radio operator was standing in thedoorway, distress and indecision in his gaze. "Our reception isextremely sporadic, sir," he announced. "We can pick up a few of thestronger broadcasts, but our emergency signals haven't been answered."
"Keep trying," Forrester ordered.
"Aye, aye, sir."
The captain turned to Lawton. "Suppose we call it a bubble. Why are wesuspended like this, immovably? Your rocket leads shot up, and the plumbline dropped one hundred feet. Why should the ship itself remainstationary?"
Lawton said: "The bubble must possess sufficient internal equilibrium tokeep a big, heavy body suspended at its core. In other words, we must besuspended at the hub of converging energy lines."
"You mean we're surrounded by an electromagnetic field?"
Lawton frowned. "Not necessarily, sir. I'm simply pointing out thatthere must be an energy tug of _some_ sort involved. Otherwise the shipwould be resting on the inner surface of the bubble."
Forrester nodded grimly. "We should be thankful, I suppose, that we canmove about inside the ship. Dave, do you think a man could descend tothe inner surface?"
"I've no doubt that a man could, sir. Shall I let myself down?"
"Absolutely not. Damn it, Dave, I need your energies inside the ship. Icould wish for a less impulsive first officer, but a man in mypredicament can't be choosy."
"Then what _are_ your orders, sir?"
"Orders? Do I have to order you to think? Is working something out foryourself such a strain? We're drifting straight toward the AtlanticOcean. What do you propose to do about that?"
"I expect I'll have to do my best, sir."
Lawton's "best" conflicted dynamically with the captain's orders. Tenminutes later he was descending, hand over hand, on a swaying emergencyladder.
"Tough-fibered Davie goes down to look around," he grumbled.
He was conscious that he was flirting with danger. The air outside wasbreathable, but would the diffuse, unorthodox gases injure his lungs? Hedidn't know, couldn't be sure. But he had to admit that he felt allright _so far_. He was seventy feet below the ship and not at all dizzy.When he looked down he could see the purple domed summits of mountainsbetween gaps in the fleecy cloud blanket.
He couldn't see the Atlantic Ocean--yet. He descended the last thirtyfeet with mounting confidence. At the end of the ladder he bracedhimself and let go.
He fell about six feet, landing on his rump on a spongy surface thatbounced him back and forth. He was vaguely incredulous when he foundhimself sitting in the sky staring through his spread legs at clouds andmountains.
He took a deep breath. It struck him that the sensation of falling couldbe present without movement downward through space. He was beginning toexperience such a sensation. His stomach twisted and his brain spun.
He was suddenly sorry he had tried this. It was so damnably unnerving hewas afraid of losing all emotional control. He stared up, his eyessquinting against the sun. Far above him the gleaming, wedge-shaped bulkof the Perseus loomed colossally, blocking out a fifth of the sky.
Lowering his right hand he ran his fingers over the invisible surfacebeneath him. The surface felt rubbery, moist.
He got swayingly to his feet and made a perilous attempt to walk throughthe sky. Beneath his feet the mysterious surface crackled, and littlesparks flew up about his legs. Abruptly he sat down again, his faceashen.
From the emergency 'chute opening far above a massive head appeared."You all right, sir," Slashaway called, his voice vibrant with concern.
"Well, I--"
"You'd better come right up, sir. Captain's orders."
"All right," Lawton shouted. "Let the ladder down another ten feet."
Lawton ascended rapidly, resentment smouldering within him. What righthad the skipper to interfere? He had passed the buck, hadn't he?
* * * * *
Lawton got another bad jolt the instant he emerged through the 'chuteopening. Captain Forrester was leaning against a parachute rack gaspingfor breath, his face a livid hue.
Slashaway looked equally bad. His jaw muscles were twitching and he wastugging at the collar of his gym suit.
Forrester gasped: "Dave, I tried to move the ship. I didn't know youwere outside."
"Good God, you didn't know--"
"The rotaries backfired and used up all the oxygen in the engine room.Worse, there's been a carbonic oxide seepage. The air is contaminatedthroughout the ship. We'll have to open the ventilation valvesim
mediately. I've been waiting to see if--if you could breathe downthere. You're all right, aren't you? The air _is_ breathable?"
Lawton's face was dark with fury. "I was an experimental rat in the sky,eh?"
"Look, Dave, we're all in danger. Don't stand there glaring at me.Naturally I waited. I have my crew to think of."
"Well, think of them. Get those valves open before we all haveconvulsions."
A half hour later charcoal gas was mingling with oxygen outside theship, and the crew was breathing it in again gratefully. Thinlydispersed, and mixed with oxygen it seemed all