Ivan Yefremov - Andromeda (A Space-Age Tale)

Erg Noor held his breath as he followed the manipulations of the skilled laboratory workers. The mass of instruments reminded him of a spaceship’s control tower, but the huge area of the room with its big, bluish windows, immediately took his mind off the Cosmic ship.

On a metal table in the middle of the room stood a special chamber made of thick sheets of rutholucite, a material that is transparent to visible and to infrared rays. A network of pipes and wires encircled the brown enamel water-tank from the spaceship in which the two black jelly-fish from the planet of the iron star were still imprisoned.

Eon Thal, erect as though doing gymnastics but with his arm still helplessly hanging in a sling, looked from a distance at the slowly revolving drum of a recording instrument. Above the biologist’s black brows there appeared beads of perspiration.

Erg Noor licked his dry lips.

‘“Nothing there. There can’t be anything left but dust after five years’ journey,” said the astronaut hoarsely.

“If so, that’s bad luck for Nisa and me,” answered the biologist, “we shall probably have to fumble for years to find out the nature of our injuries.”

“Do you still think that the ‘medusae’ and the ‘crosses’ have the same organs for killing victims?”

“I do. Grimm Schar and all the others have come to the same conclusion. Before that I had the most unexpected ideas. I imagined that the black cross had nothing at all to do with the planet….”

“I thought so, too; if you remember, I spoke about it. I got the idea that it was a being from the disc-shaped spaceship and was on guard over it. If you think about it seriously there’s no reason to guard an invincible fortress from the outside, is there? When we tried to open the disc we had proof of the foolishness of such ideas.”

“My idea was that the ‘cross’ wasn’t alive but was just a robot placed there to guard the spaceship.”

“That’s what I thought. But now, of course, I’ve given up all such ideas. The black cross is a living being engendered by the world of darkness. The beasts probably live down below, on the plain. This one came from the direction of the gap in the cliffs. The medusae are lighter and more mobile, they live on the platean where we landed. The connection between the black cross and the spiral disc is a pure coincidence due to the fact that our protective arrangements did not reach the far corner of the plain and it was all the time in the shadow behind the disc.”

“And do you think the lethal organs of the ‘cross’ and the ‘medusa’ are identical?”

“Yes. Animals living in similar conditions should evolve similar organs. The iron star is a sun that radiates heat and electricity. The whole atmosphere of the planet is strongly saturated with electricity. Grimm Schar believes that the animals gathered energy from the atmosphere and created condensations like our fire-balls. Do you remember how the brown lights moved along the tentacles of the medusae?”

“The cross had tentacles, too, but there was no….” “Simply because nobody had time to take note of them. The nature of the injury to the nerve column accompanied by paralysis of the higher centre concerned — we all agree on this — is the same in my case and Nisa. That is the chief proof and the main hope!” “Hope?” Erg Noor showed signs of agitation. “Of course. Look at this,” said the biologist showing him the regular line of the recording instrument. “The sensitive electrodes placed in the trap with the jelly-fish do not show anything. The monsters had a full charge of energy when they went in there and it could not have escaped from the tank after it was sealed. I do not think that the insulation of the cosmic food containers could be broken down, it’s much stronger than our light biological spacesuits. If you remember, the ‘cross’ that injured Nisa did not do you any harm. Its supersonic waves penetrated into the super-protective spacesuit you wore and broke down your will-power but the paralyzing charges were powerless to inflict harm. They penetrated Nisa’s light spacesuit in the same way as the jelly-fish’s penetrated mine.”

“You mean that the charges of globular lightning or whatever it is that went into the tank should still be there, is that it? But the instruments don’t record anything.”

“That’s why I say there is hope: it means that the jelly-fish have not been reduced to dust. They….”

“Now I understand. They have sealed themselves up in something like a cocoon!”

“That’s it. Such forms of adaption are widespread among living organisms that have to go through long periods of unfavourable climatic conditions — like the long, icy nights of the black planet and the hurricanes at ‘sunrise’ and ‘sunset.’ As these conditions on the planet alternate very quickliy I imagine the jelly-fish can come out of their state of lethargy as quickly as they go into it. If our assumptions are correct it will be fairly easy to restore the lethal propensities of the black medusae.”

“By providing the temperature, atmospheric, lighting and other conditions of the black planet, I suppose?”

“Yes, we’ve made all the calculations and preparations. Soon Grimm Schar will be here and we’ll start filling the tank with a mixture of neon, oxygen and nitrogen until the pressure reaches three atmospheres. But first let’s make sure of our ground.”

Eon Thal conferred with his two assistants. Some sort of a machine began crawling slowly towards the brown tank. The sheet of rutholucite that formed the front of the protective housing moved to one side opening up a passage for the machine.

The electrodes inside the tank were changed for micro-mirrors with cylindrical lamps to provide light for them. One of the assistants stood at the remote control panel: a concave surface appeared on the screen; it was covered with a sort of granular coating that reflected light very dully — this was the interior wall of the tank.

“X-rays won’t be of much use,” said Eon Thal, “the insulation is too thick. We’ll have to use a more complicated method.”

The revolutions of the mirror revealed, on the bottom of the tank, two white masses of irregular spherical shape and with a spongy, fibrous surface. The balls bore some resemblance to the fruit of the bread-tree that had shortly before been developed and were about 70 centimetres in diameter.

“Switch the televisophone on to Grimm Schar’s vector,” said the biologist to an assistant. The scientist, as soon as he was sure of the correctness of the general assumptions, hurried to the laboratory. He screwed up his eyes near-sightedly, but merely from habit and not from weak sight, and looked over the apparatus. Grimm Schar did not have the impressive appearance and imperative character one would expect in a prominent scientist. Erg Noor remembered Renn Bose, whose bashful, boyish appearance was also deceptive and belied the greatness of his mind.

“Open the welded seam,” ordered Grimm Schar. A mechanical hand cut through the hard enamel mass without moving the heavy lid. Hoses with the gaseous mixture were attached to the stop-cocks. A strong infrared ray projector took the place of the iron star.

“Temperature… pressure… electrical charge…” called out an assistant reading off the dials of the instruments.

Half an hour later Grimm Schar turned to the astronauts.

“Let’s go to the rest-room, there’s no way of guessing how long those capsuled beasts will take to revive. If