What were they warning her about? She merely wanted to get up and stretch; perhaps then she would feel better. Her toe touched the floor, she swung her other leg over, aware of but ignoring her nakedness.
"A good specimen."
"Oh, yes, comrade. So this time they send a woman among the others.
Well, we shall do our work. Look--see the way she is formed, so lithe, loose-limbed, agile. See the toning of the muscles? Her beauty will remain, comrade, but Jupiter shall make an amazon of her."
Sophia had both feet on the floor now. She was breathing hard, felt suddenly sick to her stomach. Placing both her hands on the table edge, she pushed off and staggered for two or three paces. She crumpled, buckling first at the knees then the waist, and fell in a writhing heap.
"Pick her up."
Hands under her arms, tugging. She came off the floor easily, dimly aware that someone carried her hundred and thirty pounds effortlessly.
"Put me down!" she cried. "I want to try again. I am crippled, crippled! You have crippled me...."
"Nothing of the sort, comrade. You are tired, weak, and Jupiter"s gravity field is still too strong for you. Little by little, though, your muscles will strengthen to Jupiter"s demands. Gravity will keep them from bulging, expanding; but every muscle fibre in you will have twice, three times its original strength. Are you excited?"
"I am tired and sick. I want to sleep. What is Jupiter?"
"Jupiter is a planet circling the sun at--never mind, comrade. You have much to learn, but you can a.s.similate it with much less trouble in your sleep. Go ahead, sleep."
Sophia retched, was sick. It had been years since she cried. But naked, afraid, bewildered, she cried herself to sleep.
Things happened while she slept, many things. Certain endocrine extracts accelerated her metabolism astonishingly. Within half an hour her heart was pumping blood through her body two hundred beats per minute. An hour later it reached its full rate, almost one thousand contractions every sixty seconds. All her other metabolic functions increased accordingly, and Sophia slept deeply for a week of subjective time--in hours. The same machine which had gleaned everything from her mind far more accurately than a battery of tests, a refinement of the electro-encephalogram, was now played in reverse, giving back to Sophia everything it had taken plus electrospool after electrospool of science, mathematics, logic, economics, history (Marxian, these last two), languages (including English), semantics and certain specialized knowledge she would need later on the Stalintrek.
Still sleeping, Sophia was bathed in a warm whirlpool of soothing liquid; rubbed, ma.s.saged, her muscle-toning begun while she rested and regained her strength. Three hours later, objective time, she awoke with a headache and with more thoughts spinning around madly inside her brain than she ever knew existed. Gingerly, she tried standing again, lifting herself nude and dripping wet from a tub of steaming amber stuff. She stood, stretched, permitted her fright to vanish with a quick wave of vertigo which engulfed her. She had been fed intravenously, but a tremendous hunger possessed her. Before eating, however, she was to find herself in a gymnasium, the air close and stifling. She was ma.s.saged again, told to do certain exercises which seemed simple but which she found extremely difficult, forced to run until she thought she would collapse, with her legs, dragging like lead.
She understood, now. Somehow she knew she was on Jupiter, the fifth and largest planet, where the force of gravity is so much greater than on Earth that it is an effort even to walk. She also knew that her metabolic rate had been accelerated beyond all comprehension and that in a comparatively short time--objective time--she would have thrice her original strength. All this she knew without knowing how she knew, and that was the most staggering fact of all. She did what her curt instructors bid, then dragged her aching muscles and her headache into a dining room where tired, forlorn-looking men sat around eating.
Well, the food at least was good. Sophia attacked it ravenously.
It did not take Temple long to realize that the creature running downhill at him, leaving a crushed and broken wake in the purple and green gra.s.s, was not human. At first Temple toyed with the idea of a man on horseback, for the creature ran on four limbs and had two left over as arms. Temple gaped.
The whole thing was one piece!
Centaur?
Hardly. Too small, for one thing. No bigger than a man, despite the three pairs of limbs. And then Temple had time to gape no longer, for the creature, whatever it was, flashed past him at what he now had to consider a gallop.
More followed. Different. Temple stared and stared. One could have been a great, sentient hoop, rolling downhill and gathering momentum.
If he carried the wheel a.n.a.logy further, a huge eye stared at him from where the hub would have been. Something else followed with kangaroo leaps. One thick-thewed leg propelled it in tremendous, fifteen-foot hopping strides while its small, flapper-like arms beat the air prodigiously.
Legions of creatures. All fantastically different. _I"m going crazy_, Temple thought, then said it aloud. "I"m going crazy."
Theorizing thus, he heard a whir overhead, whirled, looked up.
Something was poised a dozen feet off the ground, a large, box-like object seven or eight feet across, rotors spinning above it. That, at least, he could understand. A helicopter.
"I"m lowering a ladder, Kit. Swing aboard."
Arkalion"s voice.
Stunned enough to accept anything he saw, Temple waited for the rope ladder to drop, grasped its end, climbed. He swung his legs over a sill, found himself in a neat little cabin with Arkalion, who hauled the ladder in and did something to the controls. They sped away.
Temple had one quick moment of lucid thought before everything which had happened in the last few moments shoved logic aside. What he had observed looked for all the world like a foot-race.
"Where the h.e.l.l _are_ we?" Temple demanded breathlessly.
Arkalion smiled. "Where do you think? Journey"s end. Welcome to Nowhere, Kit. Welcome to the place where all your questions can be answered because there"s no going back. Sorry I set you down in that field by mistake, incidentally. Those things sometimes happen."
"Can I just throw the questions at you?"
"If you wish. It isn"t really necessary, for you will be indoctrinated when we get you over to Earth city where you belong."
"What do you mean, there"s no going back? I thought they had a rotation system which for one reason or another wasn"t practical at the moment. That doesn"t sound like no going back, ever."
Arkalion grunted, shrugged. "Have it your way. I _know_."
"Sorry. Shoot."
"Just how far do you think you have come?"
"Search me. Some other star system, maybe?"
"Maybe. Clean across the galaxy, Kit."
Temple whistled softly. "It isn"t something you can grasp just by hearing it. Across the galaxy...."
"That isn"t too important just now. How long did you think the journey took?"
Temple nodded eagerly. "That"s what gets me. It was amazing, Alaric.
Really amazing. The whole trip couldn"t have taken more than a moment or two. I don"t get it. Did we slip out of normal s.p.a.ce into some other--uh, continuum, and speed across the length of the galaxy like that?"
"The answer to your question is yes. But your statement is way off.
The journey did not take seconds, Kit."
"No? Instantaneous?"
"Far more than seconds. To reach here from Earth you travelled five thousand years."
"What?"
"More correctly, it was five thousand years ago that you left Mars.
You would need a time machine to return, and there is no such thing.
The Earth you know is the length of the galaxy and five thousand years behind you."
CHAPTER VII