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THOMPSON'S CAT
By ROBERT MOORE WILLIAMS
[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories September1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.copyright on this publication was renewed.]
[Sidenote: _The weird, invisible insect depopulated an entire planet.Now it was felling Thompson's crew as his ship hurtled toward thesun ... certain death for all, including the disease carrier. Forgottenin the panic was Buster, Thompson's wise cat._]
"It's a dead world," Thompson spoke. There was awe in his voice, and inspite of his sure knowledge that nothing could happen to him or to hiscrew here on this world, there was also somewhere inside of him thetrace of a beginning fear.
Standing beside him on the rooftop of the building, Kurkil spoke in awhisper, asking a question that had been better unasked. "What killedit?"
Thompson stirred fretfully. He hadn't wanted to hear this question, hedidn't want to hear it now. His gaze went automatically to the trimlines of the space cruiser resting quietly in the square below thebuilding. His spirits lifted at the sight. That was his ship, he was incharge of this far-flung exploring expedition thrown out from SolCluster to the fringes of the universe, thrown out by Earth-sired racesbeginning their long exploration of the mysteries of space and of theworlds of space. There was pride in the sight of the ship and pride inthe thought of belonging to this space-ranging race. Then his gaze wentover the deserted city radiating in all directions from them and he wasaware again of the touch of fear.
Resolutely he turned the feeling out of his mind, began seeking ananswer to Kurkil's question.
This place had been a city once. If you counted buildings and streets,tall structures where people might work quietly and effectively, broadavenues leading out to trim homes where they might rest in peace aftertheir labors of the day, if you counted these things as being important,it was still a city. But if you thought that the important element inthe make-up of a city was its inhabitants then this place no longerdeserved the name.
It had no inhabitants.
"I don't know what killed it," Thompson said. Before landing they hadcircled this world. From the air they had seen more than a dozen citiessuch as this one. All of them dead, all of them deserted, all of themwith streets overgrown by shrubbery, the pavements buckling from thesimple pressure of roots pushing upward, the buildings falling away intoruin for the same reason. But they had seen no inhabitants. They hadseen the roads the inhabitants had built to connect their cities,deserted now. They had seen the fields where these people had onceworked, fields that now were turning back into forests. They had seen noevidence of landing fields for air craft or space ships. The race thathad built the cities had not yet learned the secret of wings.
From the roof of the building where they stood, the only livingcreatures to be seen were visible through the plastic viewport of theship below them--Grant, the communication specialist, and Buster, theship's cat.
Grant had been left to guard the vessel. Buster had been required toremain within the ship, obviously against his will. He had wanted tocome with Thompson. A trace of a grin came to Thompson's face at thesight of the cat. He and Buster were firm mutual friends.
"I don't like this place," Kurkil spoke suddenly. "We shouldn't havelanded here."
Kurkil paused, then his voice came again, stronger now, and withovertones of fear in it. "There's death here." He slapped at his arm,stared around him.
"What happened?"
"Something bit me." He showed the back of his hand. A tiny puncture wasvisible.
"Some insect," Thompson said. The matter of an insect bite was of noconcern. Kurkil, and every other member of this expedition, weredisease-proof. Back in Sol Cluster vaccines and immunizing agents hadbeen developed against every known or conceivable form of germ or virus.Each member of the crew had been carefully immunized. In addition, theyhad been proofed against stress, against mounting neural pressureresulting from facing real or imaginary danger.
Barring space collision or an accident on a world they were exploring,nothing could happen to them.
"We checked the air, took soil and vegetation samples, before welanded," Thompson said. "There is nothing here that is harmful to ahuman." There was comfort in the thought.
Kurkil brightened perceptibly. "But, what happened to the race thatbuilt this city?"
"I don't know," Thompson answered. A tinge of gruffness crept into hisvoice as he forced out of his mind the memories of what they had seen inthis building they had entered and had climbed. This had once been anoffice building, a place where the unknown people who had worked herehad handled their business transactions and had kept their records. Theyhad seen no bookkeeping machines, none of the elaborate mechanicaldevices used in Sol Cluster to record the pulse of commerce. This racehad not progressed that far. But they had left behind them books writtenin an unintelligible script, orders for merchandise still neatlypigeonholed, all in good order with no sign of disturbance.
The workers might have left these offices yesterday, except for thecarpets of dust that covered everything.
"There isn't even any animal life left," Kurkil spoke.
"I know."
"But what happened? A race that has progressed to the city-buildingstage doesn't just get wiped out without leaving some indication of whathappened to them."
"Apparently they did just that."
"But it's not possible."
"It happened."
"But--"
"There's Neff," Thompson spoke. Far down the avenue below them, threefigures had appeared, Neff, Fortune, and Ross. Neff tall and slender,Fortune round like a ball, and Ross built square like a block ofconcrete. Neff saw them on top of the building and beckoned to them.There was urgency in the gesture.
"They've found something," Thompson said. With Kurkil following him hewent hastily out of the building.
"What is it?"
"Come and see," Neff answered. Neff's face was gray. Fortune and Rosswere silent.
The building in front of which they were standing had been a house once.The architecture resembled nothing they had ever seen on Earth but thepurpose of the structure was obvious. Here somebody had lived. Thompsontried to imagine people living here, the husband coming home in theevening to the dinner prepared by the wife, kids running to meet him.His imagination failed.
"Back here," Neff said.
They went around what had been a house into what had been a garden ofsome kind, a quiet nook where a family might sprawl in peace. "There,"Neff said pointing.
The three skeletons were huddled together in an alcove in front of whathad once been a shrine. They lay facing the shrine as if they had diedpraying. Above them in a niche in a wall was--
"An idol," Kurkil whispered.
"They died praying to their god," Thompson said. He was not aware thathe had spoken. Three skeletons....
The bones indicated a creature very similar to the human in structure. Alarge, a middle-sized, and a small skeleton.
"We think the small one is that of a child," Ross spoke. "We think thiswas a family."
"I see," Thompson said. "Did you find other skeletons?"
"Many others. We found them almost everywhere but usually tucked away incorners, as if the people had tried to hide from something." His voicewent suddenly into uneasy silence.
"Any indication as to the cause of death?"
"None. It apparently came on quite suddenly. We judge that theinhabitants had some warning. At least we do not seem to find enoughskeletons for a city of this size, so we estimate that part of thepopulation fled, or tried to."
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br /> "I see," Thompson repeated tonelessly. He caught a vague impression thatsomething had passed before his eyes, like a darting flicker of light,and he caught, momentarily, a fast rustle in the air, as of soulspassing. His mind was on the flight of this race, the mass hegira theyhad attempted in an effort to escape from some menace. What menace?"What do you think caused it?"
Ross shrugged, a gesture eloquent with a lack of knowledge and ofunderstanding. "War--"
"No wars were fought on this planet," Neff spoke quickly. "These citiesshow no evidence of conflict."
"Um," Thompson said. The four men were looking uneasily at him. Theywere waiting for him to make up his mind, to decide on a course ofaction.
Thompson did not like