Did you ever wonder what might happen if mankind ever exceeded the speedof light? Here is a profound story based on that thought—a story whichmay well forecast one of the problems to be encountered in space travel.
They had discovered a new planet—but its peopledid not see them until after they had traveled on.
Albrecht and I went downin a shuttleship, leaving the stellatomicorbited pole-to-pole twothousand miles above Alpha Centauri'ssecond planet. While wetook an atmosphere-brushing approachwhich wouldn't burn offthe shuttle's skin, we went asswiftly as we could.
A week before we had completedman's first trip throughhyperspace. We were now makingthe first landing on an inhabitedplanet of another sun. All thepreliminary investigations hadbeen made via electronspectroscopesand electrontelescopes fromthe stellatomic.
We knew that the atmospherewas breathable and were reasonablycertain that the peoples ofthe world into whose atmospherewe were dropping were at peace.We went unarmed, just the two ofus; it might not be wise to go inforce.
We were silent, and I knowthat Harry Albrecht was as perplexedas I was over the fact thatour all-wave receivers failed topick up any signs of radio communicationwhatever. We had assumedthat we would pick upsignals of some type as soon aswe had passed down through theunfamiliar planet's ionosphere.
The scattered arrangement ofthe towering cities appeared tocall for radio communications.The hundreds of atmosphere shipsflashing along a system of airwaysbetween the cities seemedto indicate the existence of electronicnavigational and landingaids. But perhaps the signals wereall tightly beamed; we wouldknow when we came lower.
We dropped down into the airwaylevels, and still our receiversfailed to pick up a signal of anysort—not even a whisper of static.And strangely, our radarscopesfailed to record even a blip fromtheir atmosphere ships!
"I guess it's our equipment,Harry," I said. "It just doesn'tseem to function in this atmosphere.We'll have to put Edwardsto work on it when we go backupstairs."
We spotted an airport on theoutskirts of a large city. The runwayswere laid out with the precisionof Earth's finest. I put ourship's nose eastward on a runwayand took it down fast througha lull in the atmosphere shiptraffic.
As we went down I saw tinybuildings spotted on the fieldwhich surely housed electronicequipment, but our receivers remainedsilent.
I taxied the shuttle up to anunloading ramp before the airport'sterminal building and Ikilled the drive.
"Harry," I said, "if it weren'tthat their ships are so outlandishlystubby and their buildings so outflung,we might well be on Earth!"
"I agree, Captain. Strange,though, that they're not mobbingus. They couldn't take this delta-wingedjob for one of their ships!"
It was strange.
I looked up at the observationramp's occupants—people whoexcept for their bizarre dressmight well be of Earth—and sawno curiosity in the eyes thatsometimes swept across our position.
"Be that as it may, Harry, wecertainly should cause a stir inthese pressure suits. Let's go!"
We walked up to a dour-lookingindividual at a counter at theramp's end. Clearing my throat,I said rather inanely, "Hello!"—butwhat does one say to an extrasolarian?
I realized then that my voiceseemed thunderous, that the onlyother sounds came from adistance: the city's noise, the atmosphereships' engines on the