The Terror from the Depths
By Sewell Peaslee Wright
Commander John Hanson challenges an appalling denizen of the wateryworld Hydrot.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Stories November 1931. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
His head reared itself from the ground.
"Good afternoon, sir," nodded Correy as I entered the navigating room.He glanced down at the two glowing three-dimensional navigating charts,and drummed restlessly on the heavy frames.
"Afternoon, Mr. Correy. Anything of interest to report?"
"Not a thing, sir!" growled my fire-eating first officer. "I'm aboutready to quit the Service and get a job on one of the passenger liners,just on the off chance that something exciting might eventually happen."
"You were born a few centuries too late," I chuckled. Correy loved afight more than any man I ever knew. "The Universe has become prettywell quieted down."
"Oh, it isn't that; it's just this infernal routine. Just one routinepatrol after another; they should call it the Routine Patrol Service.That's what the silver-sleeves at the Base are making of it, sir."
At the moment, Correy meant every word he said. Even old-timers developcases of nerves, now and then, on long tours of duty in small ships likethe Ertak. Particularly men like Correy, whose bodies crave physicalaction.
There wasn't much opportunity for physical activity on the Ertak; shewas primarily a fighting ship, small and fast, with every inch of spacedevoted to some utilitarian use. I knew just how Correy felt, becauseI'd felt the same way a great many times. I was young, then, one of theyoungest commanders the Special Patrol Service had ever had, and Irecognized Correy's symptoms in a twinkling.
"We'll be re-outfitting at the Arpan sub-base in a couple of days," Isaid carelessly. "Give us a chance to stretch our legs. Have you seenanything of the liner that spoke to us yesterday?" I was just makingconversation, to get his mind out of its unhealthy channel.
"The Kabit? Yes, sir; we passed her early this morning, lumberingalong like the big fat pig that she is." A pig, I should explain, is afood animal of Earth; a fat and ill-looking creature of lowintelligence. "The old Ertak went by her as though she were standingstill. She'll be a week and more arriving at Arpan. Look: you can justbarely make her out on the charts."
I glanced down at the twin charts Correy had indicated. In the center ofeach the red spark that represented the Ertak glowed like a coal offire; all around were the green pinpricks of light that showed theposition of other bodies around us. The Kabit, while comparativelyclose, was just barely visible; her bulk was so small that it onlyfaintly activated the super-radio reflex plates upon the ship's hull.
"We're showing her a pretty pair of heels," I nodded, studying ourposition in both dimensions. "Arpan isn't registering yet, I see. Who'sthis over here; Hydrot?"
"Right, sir," replied Correy. "Most useless world in the Universe, Iguess. No good even for an emergency base."
"She's not very valuable, certainly," I admitted. "Just a ball of waterwhirling through space. But she does serve one good purpose; she's asign-post it's impossible to mistake." Idly, I picked up Hydrot in thetelevision disk, gradually increasing the size of the image until I hadher full in t