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_They came home from a strange journey.... And heroes they might have been--a little dog and a man!_
_Illustrated by Ed Emsh_]
BY ANDERSEN HORNE
The DAY OF THE DOG
Carol stared glumly at the ship-to-shore transmitter. "I hate being outhere in the middle of the Caribbean with no radio communication. Can'tyou fix it?"
"This is a year for sun spots, and transmission usually gets impossiblearound dusk," Bill explained. "It will be all right in the morning. Ifyou want to listen to the radio, you can use the portable radiodirectional finder. That always works."
"I want to catch the 5 o'clock news and hear the latest on oursatellite," Carol replied. She went to the RDF and switched it on tothe standard broadcast channel. "Anyhow, I'd feel better if we could putout a signal. The way we're limping along with water in our gas is nofun. It will take us twenty hours to get back to Nassau the way we'relosing RPM'S."
Bill Anderson looked at his young, pretty wife and smiled. "You'rebehaving like a tenderfoot. We've plenty of gas, a good boat and perfectweather. Tomorrow morning I'll clean out our carburetors and we'll pickup speed. Meantime, we're about to enter one of the prettiest harbors inthe Bahamas, throw over anchor ..."
The RDF drowned him out.
"The world is anxiously awaiting return of the chamber from the world'sfirst manned satellite launched by the United States ten days ago. Theworld also awaits the answers to two questions: Is there any chance thatRobert Joy, the volunteer scientist who went up in the satellite, isstill living? There seems to be little hope for his survival since radiocommunication from him stopped three days ago. Timing mechanism for theejection of Joy are set for tonight. And that's the second question.Will the satellite, still in its orbit, eject the chamber containingJoy? Will it eject the chamber as scheduled, and will the chamber arriveback at earth at the designated place?
"There are many 'ifs' to this project which is shrouded in secrecy. ThePresident himself has assured us of a free flow of news once the chamberhas been recovered, and this station will be standing by to bring you afull report."
Carol switched the radio off. "Do you think he's alive?" She suppresseda shudder. "God! Think of a human being up there in that thing."
"Well, the dog lived for several days. It was just a question of gettingit back, which the Russians couldn't do. I don't know about Joy. Hesounded real cheerful and healthy until his broadcasts stopped." Billpeered into the fading twilight. "Come on now, let's put our minds togetting the hook over!"
They concentrated on the tricky entrance to the lee side of LittleHarbor Cay. It meant finding and passing a treacherous coral head northof the adjoining Frozen Cay. Little Harbor Cay was midway in the chainof the Berry Islands which stretched to the north like beads in anecklace.
"There's the cove," called Carol. About a mile of coastline ahead wasthe small native settlement. Once the center of a thriving spongeindustry, the island was now practically deserted. A handful of smallcottages, a pile of conch shells on the beach and two fishing smacksgave evidence of a remaining, though sparse, population.
Dusk was rapidly approaching and Carol strained her eyes against thefailing light. Bill heard her call his name and saw her pointing--notahead to their anchorage, but amidships and toward the sky. He turnedhis eyes to where she was indicating and saw a dullish object in thesky, some thousand feet up. The object seemed to be falling leisurelytowards earth.
"What in the world is that?" asked Bill. "It's not a bird, that's forsure."
The object seemed to be parachuting, not falling. The breezes wereblowing it towards the island. Before they could study it further, itwas lost in the lowering dusk and darkness of the shore line.
"Looks like a ball on a parachute," Bill finally said. However, thebusiness at hand was to make secure the _Seven Seas_ and together theyspent the next quarter hour anchoring.
After "setting the hook" securely, Carol and Bill donned swim suits,dove overboard and swam lazily the 300 yards in to shore.
"Let's try to find that thing we saw. It shouldn't be too far fromhere," said Carol the moment they hit the beach.
They climbed inland on the rocky island. Little green lizards scootedunderfoot and vines scratched at their ankles.
Bill was leading, when suddenly he called, "Carol, I see something upahead! There's something lying on the ground!" He hurried toward what hehad seen.
The dying sun reflected on a luminescent bolt of cloth, somewhat like aspun-aluminum fabric. Thin wire lines were entangling it, and about tenfeet away lay three fragments of what appeared to have been a dull metalbox.
Carol knelt at the closest piece, evidently a corner of the box. It waslined with wiring and tubes.
"It looks like electronic equipment," decided Carol, peering intently atthe strange piece. Bill had approached the second and largest fragment.
He carefully turned it over. It was filled with black and yellow ...fur?
"Oh no!" he cried, knowing in a flash, yet denying it in his mind at thesame time. Stunned, he stared at the perky ears, the dull staring andunseeing eyes, the leather thongs that held the head and body of a dogto the metal encasement. Carol saw it the next instant.
"It's some horrible joke!" she gasped. "It couldn't be the secondRussian satellite, it couldn't be Muttnik! My God, no, it couldn't be!"
Bill kept staring, his thoughts racing. There were rumors of an ejectionchamber for Muttnik. But they had been denied by the Russians. Butsuppose the Russians _had_ planned an ejection chamber for the dog Laikawhen they launched the satellite and had only denied it after theythought it had failed?
But if it _had_ worked, why had it taken so long to find its way toearth? The satellite itself was supposed to have disintegrated monthsago.
"Damn," thought Bill. "I wish I were a scientist right now instead of aknow-nothing artist!"
He touched the dog with his toe. It was perfectly preserved, as thoughit had died just a few hours before. It was rigid, but it had notstarted to decompose.
"Carol, are we crazy? Is this some dream, or do you believe we arelooking at the ejection chamber of the Russian satellite?" he asked,doubting even what he was saying.
"I don't know." Carol was wide-eyed. "But what shall we do now? We'dbetter contact the authorities immediately!"
Bill tried to keep reason from overcoming his disbelief of theirdiscovery.
"But how, Carol? Our radio transmitter isn't working. It won't tillmorning. And there's certainly no other way to communicate with anyone.We can't even take the boat anywhere with the speed we're making. We'llhave to wait till morning."
"What shall we do with the dog?" asked Carol. "Do you think we ought tobury it?"
"Lord no, Carol. The body of the dog will be extremely valuable toscience. We've got to get someone here as quickly as possible." Bill wastrying to steady his nerves.
"Let's go back and try to raise someone on the radio. Let's try again,it may work," called Carol, running in the direction of the boat. Billfollowed her. They stumbled on the craggy rocks and exposed sea graperoots, but together in the darkness they struck out for the boat.
Bill was first aboard and went directly to the ship-to-shore radio.
"Try the Nassau marine operator first," Carol panted as she clamberedaboard. "He's a lot closer to us than Miami."
As the receiver warmed up, static filled the cabin. Bill depressed thetransmitting button. "This is the Yacht _Seven Seas_ calling the NassauMarine operator," he called into the phone. Only static answered.
"Bill!" Carol said in sudden inspiration. "Give a May Day. Try everychannel with a May Day. If anyone
picks up a May Day call you'll getemergency action."
"May Day, May Day! This is the Yacht _Seven Seas_. Come in anyone!" Billcalled urgently into the mouthpiece. He switched to the Coast Guardchannel, then to the Miami Marine operators channel. Only static filledthe cabin. No welcome voice acknowledged their distress call. Billflipped the switch desperately to the two ship-to-ship channels. "MayDay! Come in any boat!" Still static. Nothing but static.
* * * * *
It was night. A night without a moon. The island loomed dark against theblack waters. The dark was relieved only by a small fire burning at