The Earth Gods Are Coming Read Online Free PDF

to be found this trip. Perhaps, despite his own brave words and hopes, he hadn't really expected to find them all that easily himself. His own life had followed that sort of pattern. There would be a long stretch of humdrum activity, then a frenzied assault on some peak of desire or promotion or a worthwhile job, followed, usually, by a deflating letdown and a sense of loss and of encroaching old age. Even Laura—even the marriage that had started out with such high hopes—had let him down. Or, had he let down her family, the aristocratic, autocratic, high-and-mighty Chalmers-Wong-Berkelys? If those crank engines of Swallow hadn't let him down ...
    Well, one terrified and hopeless capsule despatch chief marooned on an unknown planet might, if he could, begin to hope. If all else failed, at least he could salvage his own pride in rescuing this obscure unfortunate spaceman. The man's name was mentioned along with the other pertinent data.
    Abd al-Malik ibn-Zobeir.
    "Well, Abdul," Inglis said softly. "We're on our way to find you. Let's hope—for both our sakes—we're successful."
    -

5
    Beneath them, like the stippled globe of Earth seen from one of the weather satellites forever circling their widespread orbits, the alien planet spun on her course around her parent Sun. Not the Earth. Earth was an unimaginable distance away, lost among the writhing arms of the Galaxy.
    Hair fine wires made a cross. Alongside the cross two selections of figures flitted past on illuminated screens, slowing, ticking slower and slower, matching as Swallow lost speed. The light cruiser pulled up from her space consuming gallop, easing into an orbit, and the hair fine cross passed over a certain darkly shadowed area of the surface as the two sets of illuminated figures both showed zero.
    "Well, Colonel, that's it. Now it's up to photography to tell us what's down there."
    "A most efficient operation, Commander. Very refreshing."
    The sparks still flew from these two men. Inglis deprecated this; but he could understand the way Varese's mind was working and he felt himself to be an outsider. Pick up poor old Abdul what's his name from this unknown planet and hare back to base to pick up a fresh, undamaged ship, and stride back into deep space again—with a new commander.
    And he'd probably feel the same way about the situation, too.
    The personal conflict between two men arising through perfectly valid motives on either side was of no consequence when considered against the overpowering authority of space and the stars and the challenges to man that lay therein. Man had grown up to the extent of achieving a universal religion—whether that was right or wrong now no longer affected the issue—and his next step was to grow up in the environment of space.
    Lieutenant Chung walked in, smiling, holding the brand new, dried prints.
    The three heads bent above the shots. A little cloud obscured most of the frames; but the general picture was clear.
    "Blow-ups, Chung?" asked Varese.
    "Coming along directly, skipper. They look interesting."
    This long range photography was always exciting. You pointed your gear at a planetary surface that was a mere blur in your eyes, and when you developed the negs all manner of detail was shown, all kinds of exciting possibilities were feasible. These shots were no exception.
    Inglis used a magnifying glass on the microgram, waiting for the blow ups. Here he felt far more at ease than racing about space in a light cruiser. As a marine he could judge terrain, planetary surfaces, conditions—the whole chancy business of what a drop might entail. Varese and Chung studied other frames of the surface.
    Chung, naturally, held his opinion. It was quite evident to Inglis, however, that the young lieutenant was bursting with the desire to go into explanations.
    Inglis said, "Well, it is a city. Isabella was right there, at least."
    "What sort of a city do you call that?" Varese thumped the prints.
    Lieutenant Chung said, "It