The scientist, experienced in Cosmic reception, did all that had been ordered within two minutes. In the depths of the hemispherical screen a gigantic galaxy appeared which both scientists recognized as the Andromeda Nebula, or M 31, long known to mankind.
In the outer turn of its spiral, the one nearest the onlookers, and almost in the very centre of the lentil-shaped disc of the enormous galaxy, a tiny light appeared. There a whole system of stars branched off, looking like a thin hair although it was probably a huge sleeve of the galaxy a hundred parsecs in length. The light began to grow and the hair became bigger, while the galaxy disappeared beyond the field of vision. A stream of red and yellow stars stretched across the screen. The light changed into a little circle that gleamed at the end of the star stream. On the edge of the stream there was a prominent orange star, spectral class K, and around it the barely perceptible dots of planets were revolving. A disc of light was placed over one of them, completely covering it. Suddenly it all began to whirl round in red curves with sparks flying out of them. Renn Bose closed his eyes.
“That’s a rupture,” said Junius Antus from the side screen. “I’ve shown you a memory machine recording of what we observed last month. Now I’m going to switch on to a direct reception.”
Sparks and dark-red lines were still whirling round on the screen.
“What a peculiar phenomenon!” exclaimed the physicist. “How do you explain that ‘rupture,’ as you call it?”
“I’ll tell you later. The transmission is beginning again. But what is it you think strange?”
“The red spectrum of the rupture. In the Andromeda spectrum there is a violet bias, in other words, it should be drawing closer to us.”
“The rupture has nothing to do with Andromeda, it is a local phenomenon!”
“Do you think it accidental that their transmitting station is placed on the very edge of the galaxy, in a zone that is even farther removed from the centre than the zone of the Sun in our Galaxy?”
Junius Antus cast a sceptical glance at Renn Bose. “You’re prepared to start a discussion at any moment, forgetting that you’re talking with the Andromeda Nebula at a distance of 45 parsecs!”
“Yes, yes,” muttered the embarrassed Renn Bose, “that is, at a distance of a million and a half light years. This communication was transmitted fifteen thousand centuries ago.”
“What we’re looking at now was sent out long before the Ice Age and the appearance of man on Earth!” Junius Antus had become more amicable.
The red lines slowed down their movements, the screen went dark and then lit up again. A dully lit plain could scarcely be discerned in the twilight with mushroom-shaped structures dotted here and there. Near the front a gigantic (judging by the extent of the plain) blue circle with an obviously metallic surface gleamed coldly. One above the other two huge discs, convex on both sides, hung directly over the centre of the blue circle. No… they were not hanging but were slowly rising higher and higher. The plain vanished and only one of the discs remained on the screen; it was more convex below than above and there were crudely spiral ribs on both sides.
“Is it they… is it they?” exclaimed both scientists, almost together, thinking of the perfect similarity of this image with the photographs and drawings of the spiral disc the 37th Cosmic Expedition had found on the planet of the iron star.
Another whirl of red lines and the screen went dead. Renn Bose waited, afraid to take his eyes off the screen for even a second. The first human eye to see something of the life and thoughts of another galaxy! The screen, however, did not show any further signs of life. Junius Antus spoke from the side-screen of the TVP.
“The transmission has broken off. We cannot wait any longer because we are using too much of Earth’s power resources. The whole planet will be astounded. We must ask the Economic Council for reception hours outside the regular programme at intervals more frequent than at present, but that will only be possible in a year’s time, after so much has been spent on the dispatch of Lebed. Now we know that the spaceship on the black planet is from there. If Erg Noor had not found it we should never have understood what we have seen.”
“And that disc came from there? How long did it fly?” asked Renn Bose, as though talking to himself.
“It has been flying dead for about two million years through the space that divides our two galaxies,” answered Junius Antus, sternly, from the screen. “It flew until it found refuge on the planet of star T. Those spaceships are apparently built to land automatically despite the fact that for thousands and thousands of years no living hand has touched their mechanism.”
“Perhaps they live a long time?”
“But not millions of years, that would contradict the laws of thermodynamics,” answered Junius Antus, coldly. “Even though it is of enormous size the spiral disc could not contain a whole planet of people… or intelligences. As yet our two galaxies cannot reach each other, cannot exchange messages….”
“They will,” declared Renn Bose, confidently, said good-bye to Junius Antus and returned to the cosmoport whence the spaceship Lebed had just flown off.
Darr Veter, Veda Kong, Chara and Mven Mass stood somewhat apart from the two long rows of people who had come to see the ship off. All heads were turned in the direction of the central building. Noiselessly a wide platform swept past them accompanied by waving hands and shouts of greeting, something that people only permitted themselves in public on very special occasions. The twenty-two members of Lebed’s crew were on the platform.
The vehicle drew up against Lebed. At the tall retractable lift stood a number of people in white overalls, the twenty members of the ground crew, mostly engineers working at the cosmoport: all of them had tired, drawn faces. During the past twenty-four hours they had checked all the expedition’s equipment once more and had tested the reliability of the ship with the tensor apparatus.
In accordance with a custom that had been introduced with the first Cosmic expeditions the Chairman of the Commission reported to Erg Noor who had again been appointed commander of the spaceship and of the expedition to Achernar. Other members of the commission placed their insignia on a bronze plate bearing their portraits which was handed to Erg Noor; after this they moved away to one side and those who had come to bid farewell to the crew surged round the ship. The people drew up in front of the travellers, permitting their relatives to reach the small platform of the lift that was still vacant. Cinema cameramen recorded every gesture of the parting crew, a last memory of them to be left on Earth.
Erg Noor noticed Veda Kong when she was still some distance away: he thrust the bronze certificate into his wide astronaut’s belt and hurried to the young woman.
“It’s good of you to have come, Veda!”
“How could I not come!”
“For me you are a symbol of Earth and my past youth!”
“Nisa’s youth is with you for ever!”
“I won’t say I’m not sorry about anything because it wouldn’t be true. I’m sorry, first of all, for Nisa, my companions and myself…. The loss is too great. On this last time on the planet I’ve learned to love Earth in a new way, more strongly, simply and unconditionally.”
“But you’re going, nevertheless. Erg?”
“I must. If I were to refuse I should lose Earth as well as the Cosmos.”
“The greater the love the greater the deed.”
“You’ve always understood me perfectly, Veda. Here’s Nisa. I’ve just been admitting nostalgia to Veda.”
The girl with the shock of red curls lowered her eyelashes: she had grown thinner and looked like a boy.
“I never thought it would be so hard. You’re all of you so good… so pure… so beautiful… to leave you, to tear one’s body away from Mother Earth….” The astronavigator’s voice trembled. Veda instinctively drew the girl towards her, whispering the mysterious words of feminine comfort.