Spacewrecked on Venus
By NEIL R. JONES
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Wonder StoriesQuarterly Winter 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
A beam of electricity leaped from the ship. Instantlyshafts of light spread from the nearest projectile to the ones on eitherside of it.
NEIL R. JONES
Interplanetary commerce, if and when it begins, will be fraught with allof the dangers that accompany pioneering expeditions. There will be theterrible climatic conditions on other worlds to be faced, strange beastsand plants; and perhaps desperate and greedy men. That was the case whenevery new land was opened on earth and it may be expected to be truewhen we conquer the solar planets.
Mr. Jones understands these things well. His vivid imagination, hissense of a good story and his knowledge of what may be expected uponother worlds combine to make this a novel and exciting yarn. And, as isalways desired, it comes to a smashing finish with a surprising ending.
His scientific weapons are quite novel, but so realistically does heportray them, that they strike one as being quite possible and likely tobe used at some future time.
I stood looking from the space ship into the dense fog banks whichrolled about us. We were descending through the dense cloud blanket ofVenus. How near we actually were to the ground I did not know. Nothingbut an unbroken white haze spread mistily, everywhere I looked.
With jarring suddenness, a terrific shudder throbbed the length of theC-49, rattling the loose articles on the desk nearby. The dictatyper,with which I had lately been composing a letter, crashed violently tothe floor. I reeled unsteadily to the door. It was nearly flung open inmy face.
"Hantel!"
Captain Cragley steadied himself on the threshold of my room. Thecaptain and I had become intimate friends during the trip from theearth. In his eyes I saw concern.
"What's wrong?" I queried.
"Don't know yet! Come—get out of there, man! We may have to use theemergency cylinder!"
I followed Cragley. The crew, numbering seven, were gathered in theobservation chamber. Most of the passengers were there too.
The C-49 carried twelve passengers, all men, to the Deliphonsettlement of Venus. In the earlier days of space travel, few womendared the trip across space.
Several of the crew worked feverishly at the controls above theinstrument board.
"What's our altitude?" demanded Cragley.
"Fifteen thousand feet!" was the prompt reply. "Our drop is better thana hundred feet a second!"
Worried wrinkles creased the kindly old face of Captain Cragley. Hedebated the issue not one moment.
"Into the emergency cylinder—everybody!"
Herding the passengers ahead of them, Cragley's men entered acompartment shaped like a long tube, ending in a nose point. When wewere buckled into a spiral of seats threading the cylinder, Cragleypulled the release lever. Instantly, the cylinder shot free of thedoomed C-49. For a moment we dropped at a swifter pace than theabandoned ship. After that, our speed of descent was noticeablydecreased.
Peering at the proximity detector, Cragley announced that