It was alien but was it dead, this towering, sinister
city of metal that glittered malignantly before the
cautious advance of three awed space-scouters.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1955.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Martin set the lifeboat down carefully, with all the attention oneusually exercises in a situation where the totally unexpected hasoccurred, and he and his two companions sat and stared in awed silenceat the city a quarter-mile away.
He saw the dull, black walls of buildings shouldering grimly into thetwilight sky, saw the sheared edge where the metal city ended and thebarren earth began ... and he remembered observing, even before theylanded, the too-strict geometry imposed on the entire construction.
He frowned. The first impression was ... malignant.
Wass, blond and slight, with enough nose for three or four men,unbuckled his safety belt and stood up. "Shall we, gentlemen?" and witha graceful movement of hand and arm he indicated the waiting city.
Martin led Wass, and the gangling, scarecrow-like Rodney, through thestillness overlaying the barren ground. There was only the twilightsky, and harsh and black against it, the convoluted earth. And thecity. Malignant. He wondered, again, what beings would choose to builda city—even a city like this one—in such surroundings.
The men from the ship knew only the surface facts about this waitinggeometric discovery. Theirs was the eleventh inter-planetary flight,and the previous ten, in the time allowed them for exploration whilethis planet was still close enough to their own to permit a safe returnin their ships, had not spotted the city. But the eleventh expeditionhad, an hour ago, with just thirteen hours left during which a returnflight could be safely started. So far as was known, this was the onlycity on the planet—the planet without any life at all, save tinymosses, for a million years or more. And no matter which direction fromthe city a man moved, he would always be going north.
"Hey, Martin!" Rodney called through his helmet radio. Martin paused."Wind," Rodney said, coming abreast of him. He glanced toward the blackpile, as if sharing Martin's thoughts. "That's all we need, isn't it?"
Martin looked at the semi-transparent figures of wind and dustcavorting in the distance, moving toward them. He grinned a little,adjusting his radio. "Worried?"
Rodney's bony face was without expression. "Gives me the creeps, kindof. I wonder what they were like?"
Wass murmured, "Let us hope they aren't immortal."
Three feet from the edge of the city Martin stopped and stubbed at thesand with the toe of his boot, clearing earth from part of a shiningmetal band.
Wass watched him, and then shoved aside more sand, several feet away."It's here, too."
Martin stood up. "Let's try farther on. Rodney, radio the ship, tellthem we're going in."
Rodney nodded.
After a time, Wass said, "Here, too. How far do you think it goes?"
Martin shrugged. "Clear around the city? I'd like to know what itis—was—for."
"Defense," Rodney, several yards behind, suggested.
"Could be," Martin said. "Let's go in."
The three crossed the metal band and walked abreast down a street,their broad soft soled boots making no sound on the dull metal. Theypassed doors and arches and windows and separate buildings. They movedcautiously across five intersections. And they stood in a squaresurrounded by the tallest buildings in the city.
Rodney broke the silence, hesitantly. "Not—not very big. Is it?"
Wass looked at him