Fields, endless yellow fields. And parks. Parks and yellow fields. Squares of green among the yellow, as far as the eye could see. Nothing else.
"No cities," Ryan said thickly.
"No. Don't you remember? The people are all out in the fields. Or walking in the parks. Discussing the nature of the universe."
"This is what Jon saw."
"Your son was extremely accurate."
Ryan moved back to the controls, his face blank. His mind was numb. He sat down and adjusted the landing grapples. The ship sank lower and lower until it was coasting over the flat fields. Men and women glanced up at the ship, startled. Men and women in robes.
They passed over a park. A herd of animals rushed frantically away. Some kind of deer.
This was the world his son had seen. This was his vision. Fields and parks and men and women in long flowing robes. Walking along the paths. Discussing the problems of the universe.
And the other world, his world, no longer existed. The League was gone. His whole life's work destroyed. In this world it did not exist. Jon. His son. Snuffed out. He would never see him again. His work, his son, everything he had known had winked out of existence.
"We have to go back," Ryan said suddenly.
Kastner blinked. "Beg pardon?"
"We have to take the papers back to the continuum where they belong. We can't recreate the situation exactly, but we can place the papers in the Government's hands. That will restore all the relevant factors."
"Are you serious?"
Kastner stepped back, whipping out his blaster. Ryan lunged. His shoulder caught Kastner, bowling the little businessman over. The blaster skidded across the floor of the ship, clattering against the wall. The papers fluttered in all directions.
"You damn fool!" Ryan grabbed at the papers, dropping down to his knees.
Kastner chased after the blaster. He scooped it up, his round face set with owlish determination. Ryan saw him out of the corner of his eye. For a moment the temptation to laugh almost overcame him. Kastner's face was flushed, his cheeks burning red. He fumbled with the blaster, trying to aim it.
"Kastner, for God's sake -"
The little businessman's fingers tightened around the trigger. Abrupt fear chilled Ryan. He scrambled to his feet. The blaster roared, flame crackling across the time ship. Ryan leaped out of the way, singed by the trail of fire.
Schonerman's papers flared up, glowing where they lay scattered over the floor. For a brief second they burned. Then the glow died out, flickering into charred ash. The thin acrid smell of the blast drifted to Ryan, tickling his nose and making his eyes water.
"Sorry," Kastner murmured. He laid the blaster down on the control board. "Don't think you better get us down? We're quite close to the surface."
Ryan moved mechanically to the control board. After a moment he took his seat and began to adjust the controls, decreasing the velocity of the ship. He said nothing.
"I'm beginning to understand about Jon," Kastner murmured. "He must have had some kind of parallel time sense. Awareness of other possible futures. As work progressed on the time ship his visions increased, didn't they? Every day his visions became more real. Every day the time ship became more actual."
Ryan nodded.
"This opens up whole new lines of speculation. The mystical visions of medieval saints. Perhaps they were of other futures, other time flows. Visions of hell would be worse time flows. Visions of heaven would be better time flows. Ours must stand some place in the middle. And the vision of the eternal unchanging world. Perhaps that's an awareness of non-time. Not another world but this world, seen outside of time. We'll have to think more about that, too."
The ship landed, coming to rest at the edge of one of the parks. Kastner crossed to the port and gazed out at the trees beyond the ship.
"In the books my family saved there were some pictures of trees," he said thoughtfully. "These trees here, by us. They're pepper trees. Those over there are what they call evergreen trees. They stay that way all year around. That's why the name."
Kastner picked up his briefcase, gripping it tightly. He moved toward the hatch.
"Let's go find some of the people. So we can begin discussing things. Metaphysical things." He grinned at Ryan. "I always did like metaphysical things."
The Cosmic Poachers
"What kind of ship is it?" Captain Shure demanded, staring fixedly at the viewscreen, his hands gripping the fine adjustment.
Navigator Nelson peered over his shoulder. "Wait a minute." He swung the control camera over and snapped a photograph from the screen. The photograph disappeared down the message tube to the chart room. "Keep calm. We'll get a determination from Barnes."
"What are they doing here? What are they after? They must know the Sirius system is closed."
"Notice the balloon sides." Nelson traced the screen with his finger. "It's a freighter. Look at the bulge. It's a cargo carrier."
"And while you're looking, notice that." Shure whirled the enlarger. The image of the ship bloated, expanding until it filled the screen. "See that row of projections?"
"So?"
"Heavy guns. Countersunk. For deep-space firing. It's a freighter, but it's also armed."
"Pirates, maybe."
"Maybe." Shure toyed with the communications mike. "I'm tempted to put a call back to Terra."
"Why?"
"This may be a scout."
Nelson's eyes flickered. "You think they're in the process of sounding us out? But if there are more, why don't our screens pick them up?"
"The rest may be out of range."
"More than two light years? I have the screens up to maximum. And they're the best screens available."
The determination popped up the tube from the chart room, skidding out on the table. Shure broke it open and scanned it rapidly. He passed it to Nelson. "Here."
The ship was Adharan design. First-class, from a recent freighter group. Barnes had noted in his own hand: "But not supposed to be armed. Must have added the cannon. Not standard equipment on Adharan freighters."
"Then it's not bait," Shure murmured. "We can rule that out. What's the story on Adhara? Why would an Adharan ship be in the Sirius system? Terra has closed this whole region off for years. They must know they can't trade here."
"No one knows much about Adharans. They participated in the All-galaxy Trade Conference, but that's all."
"What race are they?"
"Arachnid type. Typical of this area. Based on the Great Murzim Stem. They're a variant of the Murzim original. They keep mostly to themselves. Complex social structure, very rigid patterns. Organic-state grouping."
"You mean they're insects."
"I suppose. In the same sense we're lemurs."
Shure turned his attention back to the viewscreen. He reduced magnification, watching intently. The screen followed the Adharan ship automatically, maintaining a direct alignment with it.
The Adharan ship was heavy and black, awkward in comparison to the sleek Terran cruiser. It bulged like a well-fed worm, its somber sides swollen almost to a full sphere. An occasional guide light blinked on and off as the ship approached the outermost planet of the Sirius system. It moved slowly, cautiously, feeling its way along. It entered the orbit of the tenth planet and began maneuvering for descent. Brake jets burst on, flashing red. The bloated worm drifted down, lowering itself toward the surface of the planet.
"They're landing," Nelson murmured.
"That's fine. They'll be stationary. Good target for us."
On the surface of the tenth planet the Adharan freighter lay resting, its jets dying into silence. A cloud of exhaust particles rose from it. The freighter had landed between two mountain ranges, on a barren waste of gray sand. The surface of the tenth planet was utterly barren. No life, atmosphere or water existed.