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diff --git a/22597.txt b/22597.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8292c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/22597.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1458 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Question of Comfort, by Les Collins + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Question of Comfort + +Author: Les Collins + +Release Date: September 14, 2007 [EBook #22597] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUESTION OF COMFORT *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + QUESTION + OF COMFORT + + By LES COLLINS + + + _The Gravity Gang was a group of + geniuses--devoting its brilliance to + creating a realistic Solar System + for Disneyland. That was the story, + anyway. No one would have believed + all that stuff about cops and robbers + from outer space._ + + +My job, finished now, had been getting them to Disneyland. The problem +was bringing one in particular--one I had to find. The timing was +uncomfortably close. + +I'd taken the last of the yellow pills yesterday, tossing the bottle +away with a sort of indifferent frustration. I won or lost on the +validity of my logic--and whether I'd built a better mousetrap. + +The pills had given me 24 hours before the fatal weakness took hold; +nevertheless, I waited as long as I could. That left me less than an +hour, now; strangely, as I walked in the eerie darkness of an early +morning, virtually deserted Disneyland, I felt calm. And yet, my life +depended on the one I sought being inside the Tour building. + +I was seeking a monster of terrible potential, yet so innocuous looking +that he'd not stand out. I couldn't produce him, couldn't say where in +the world he was. Nevertheless he was the basis, the motivation second +only to mine. I took the long, hard way--three years--making him come to +me. + +Two years were devoted to acclimatization, learning, and then swinging +this job: just to put the idea across. + +Assigned to Disneyland Public Relations in the offices at Burbank, I'd +begun with the usual low-pay, low-level jobs. I didn't, couldn't mind; +at least I had a foot in the right door. Within six months, I reached a +point where I could present the idea. + +It had enough merit. My boss--35 years' experience enabled him to +recognize a good idea--took it to his boss who took it to The Boss. + +Tomorrowland is the orphan division of Disneyland, thrown in as sop to +those interested more in the future than the past. My idea was to sex up +Tomorrowland: Tour the Solar System. + +Not really, but we'd bill it that way. The Tour of the Solar System +Building was to be large. Its rooms would reproduce environments of +parts of the System, as best we knew them. + + * * * * * + +I'll never forget the first planning session when we realists were +underdogs, yet swung the basic direction. By then, the Hollywood Mind +had appeared. The Hollywood Mind is definitely a real thing, a vicious +thing, a blank thing, that paternalistically insists It knows what the +public wants. + +There was general agreement on broad outlines. Trouble began over Venus. + +"Of course," said one of the Minds, "we'll easily create a swampy +environment--" + +I burst out with quiet desperation: "May I comment?" + +The realists were churning. Right there, sides were being chosen. I let +all know my side immediately. + +"Venus is hot, but it's desert heat. Continuous dust storms with +fantastic winds--" + +"People'd never go for that junk," interrupted the Mind. "Everyone knows +Venus is swampy." + +"Everyone whose reading tastes matured no further than Edgar Rice +Burroughs!" + +The Mind, with a if-you-know-so-much-why-aintcha-rich look, sneered, +"How come you know all about it?" + +Speechless, I spread my hands. This joker was leading with his chin, +forcing the fight. I had to hit him again; if I lost, I lost good. "A +person," I said slowly and rhythmically, "with normal intelligence and a +minute interest in the universe, will keep step with the major sciences, +at least on an elementary level. I must stress the qualification of +normal intelligence." + +The Mind, face contorted, was determined to get me. I was in a very +vulnerable spot; more important, so was the idea. + +Mind began an emotional tirade, and mentally I damned him. It couldn't +have mattered to him what environment we used, but he was politicking +where he shouldn't. + +There was silence when he stopped. This was the crux; The Boss would +decide. I held my breath. + +He said, "We'll make it hot and dusty." The realists had won; the rest +climbed on the bandwagon but quick; and the temple was cleansed. + +It was natural--because at the moment I was fair-haired--for the project +to become mine. God knows, I worked hard for it. I'd have to watch the +Mind, though; he would make things as difficult as possible. + +However, he'd proved he was the one person I wasn't seeking. One down +and 2,499,999,999 to go. + +Within a few days, a new opposition coalition formed, headed by the +Mind. Fortunately, they helped. I'd hesitated on one last point. Pushed. +I gambled the momentum of the initial enthusiasm would carry it. + + * * * * * + +Originally the plan was a series of rooms, glassed off, that people +could stare into. There was something much better; engineering and I +spent 36 hours straight, figuring costs, juggling space and equipment, +until the modification didn't look too expensive--juggling is always +possible in technical proposals. For the results, the cost was worth it. +I hand-carried the proposal in. + +Why not take people _through_ the rooms? We could even design a +simulated, usable spacesuit. There'd be airlock doors between the rooms +for effectiveness, insulation, economy. No children under ten allowed; +no adults over 50. They'd go through in groups of 10 or 11. + +Sure, I realized this was the most elaborate, most ambitious concession +ever planned. The greatest ever attempted in its line, it would +cost--both us and the public. But people will pay for value. They'd go +for a buck-and-a-half or even two; the lines of those filing past the +windows, at 50 cents a crack, would also bring in the dough. + +They bought it. Not all--they nixed my idea of creating exact +environmental conditions; and I didn't insist, luck and Hollywood being +what they are. + +From the first, I established a special group to work on one problem. +They were dubbed the Gravity Gang, and immediately after, the GG. I +hired them for the gravity of the situation, a standard gag that, once +uttered, became as trite as the phrase. The Tour's realism would be +affected by normal weight sensations. + +The team consisted of a female set designer--who'd turn any male +head--from the Studio, a garage mechanic with 30 years' experience, an +electronics engineer, a science fiction writer, and the prettiest +competent secretary available. I found Hazel, discovering with delight +she'd had three years of anthropology at UCLA. + +As soon as they assembled, I explained their job: find a way to give the +illusion of lessened gravity. + +Working conditions would be the best possible--why I'd wanted the women +pretty--and their time was their own. I found the GG responded by +working 10 hours a day and thinking another 14. They were that sort. + +I couldn't know the GG was foredoomed to failure by its very collective +nature; nor could I know, by its nature, the GG meant the difference +between my success and failure. + +The opposition put one over; we'd started referring to the job as Tour +of the System Project. Next day, it was going the rounds as TS project. +Words, words, and men will always fight with words. + +Actually, the initials were worthy of the name. The engineering problems +mounted like crazy. Words, words, and one of them got to the outside +world. Or maybe it was the additional construction crew we hired. + +One logical spot for the building was next to the moon flight. The Tour +building now would be bigger than first planned, so we extended it +southeasterly. This meant changing the roadbed of the Santa Fe & +Disneyland R.R. It put me up to my ears in plane surveying--and gave me +a nasty shock. + +I looked up at someone's shout, in time to see a ton of cat rolling down +the embankment at me. + + * * * * * + +What we were doing was easy. Using a spiral to transition gradually from +tangent to circular curve and from circular curve to tangent. Easy? +Yeah. Sure. + +If this was my baby, I'd damned well better know its personality traits. +I was out with the surveyors, I was out with the construction gang, I +was out at the wrong time. + +As the yellow beast, mindless servant of man, thundered down, I dove for +the rocks. Thank God for the rocks--we'd had to import them: the soil in +Orange County is fine for oranges, but too soft for train roadbeds. + +Choking on the dust, I rolled over. The cat perched, grinning drunkenly, +on the rocks. The opposition or an accident? Surely the Mind wasn't +_that_ desperate. But I was; I had to keep the idea alive, for myself as +well as completion of the original mission. + +Several million hands pulled me out; several million more patted away +the dust. Motionless, I'd just seen the driver of the cat. Seen him--and +was sorry. + +He stood tall but hunched over; gaunt, with pasty skin, vapid eyes, and +a kind of yellow-nondescript hair. + +It wasn't the physical characteristics, very similar to mine, that +bothered me--once after an incomplete pass, I'd been told by a young +lady that I was a "thin, sallow lecher." I was swept by waves of +impending trouble, more frightened of him than of the opposition in +toto. Then, relieved, I realized the man wasn't the one I was expecting. + +Back in my office, I wasn't allowed the luxury of nervous reaction. Our +spacesuit man wanted an Ok on design changes. Changes? What changes?... +Oh, yes, go ahead. + +A materials man wanted to know about weight. I told him where to go--for +the information. + +A written progress report from the GG briefly, sardonically, said: "All +the talk about increased costs and lowered budget has decided us to ask +if any aircraft, missile, or AEC groups have come up with anti-gravity. +It'd be a lot simpler that way. Love and kisses." + +I shrugged, wrote them a memo to take a week off for fishing, wenching, +or reading Van Es on the Pleistocene stratigraphy of Java. I didn't +care, as long as they returned with a fresh point of view. + +Things were hectic already, less than four months after we'd started. +And we hadn't much to show, except a shift in the roadbed of the SF & D +RR. The opposition, growing stronger each day, could sit back and rest +the case, with nothing more than a smug, needling, I-told-you-so look. + +The day finally came when we broke ground for the building. It was quite +an achievement, and I invited the GG to dinner. I'd been drawn to the +bunch of screwballs--the only name possible--more and more. Maybe +because they were my brain-child, or maybe because lately they were the +only human company in which I could relax. + +The Hotel is about a half-mile south of Disneyland. I arrived early, +hoping to grab a ginger ale. Our set designer, Frank--christened +Francis--caught me at the door. + +"Wanted to buy you a drink. This is the first time we've met socially." + +That was true; it was equally true something bothered her. Damn it! +Trapped, I'd have to drink. We ordered, and I mulled it over. Waited, +but she said nothing. + + * * * * * + +The drinks came. I shook several little, bright-yellow pills from the +bottle, swallowed them, then drank. Frank cocked her head inquisitively. + +"If you must know, they're for my ulcer." + +"Didn't know you had one." + +"Don't, but I'll probably get one, any day." + +She laughed, and I drank again. I should do my drinking alone because I +get boiled incredibly fast. It happened now. One second I was sober; the +next, drunk. + +Resting a cheek on a wobbly palm-and-elbow, I said, "Has everyone ever +said you are the most beautiful--" + +"Yes, but in your present state, it isn't a good idea for you to add to +that number." + +I shifted to the other forearm. "Frank, things might be different if I +weren't a thin, sallow lecher." + +"What a nice compliment--" + +"Uh huh." + +"Especially since I work for you, nominally anyway--" + +"Uh huh, nominally." + + "Bosses should not make passes + At gals who work as lower classes." + +"Uh, huh, familiar." + +"But you are, and getting more so daily--" + +"Uh hu--are what?" I asked in surprise. + +"Thin, tired: the GG has decided you're working too hard." + +"Because I don't use Vano." I grinned, having waited long to put that +one across. + +"Be serious and listen--" + +"_You_ listen: if I'm working too hard, it's to finish. I _must_, and +soon." + +"This compulsion," she paced her words, "will kill you if you let it." + +"It'll kill me if I don't let it--" + +"Here comes Harry." + +It was time. Blearily, I fumbled with the pills, spilled the bottle. +Frank helped me gather them up, as Harry arrived. + +He said, a look of worry on his gaunt, gray features, "The rest of us +are waiting." + +Concerned, Frank asked, "Think you're able?" + +"Anytime you say," I answered, in a cold-sober monotone. + +She flushed, knowing I was sober, not knowing certainly if I were +serious. + + * * * * * + +When we were seated, I said enthusiastically, "Chateaubriand tonight, +gangsters." + +The GG did not react as expected. + +Dex, the electronics engineer, said quietly, "If it's steak when the +ground is broken, what'll it be when the thing is finished?" + +"A feast, for all the animals in the world--just like +Suleiman-bin-Daoud." This, from the GG writer, Mel. + +Their faces showed the same thing that bothered Frank. + +Harry said, "We have something to do." + +"Well, do it!" I tried weak joviality: "It can't be anything of +earth-shaking gravity." + +Hazel, long since accepted as a GG member, replied, "It's just that +we're ... resigned." + +"_What?_" + +"We've produced nothing in months of sustained effort. That's why we're +resigning," Dex replied disgustedly. + +Frank touched my arm, said softly, "We've examined every angle. With the +money available, it's just impossible to give a sensation of changed +weight. And we know they've been pressuring you about us being on the +payroll." + +"Wait"--desperately--"if you pull out, everything will go. The +opposition needs only something like this. Besides, the GG is the one +bit of insanity I can depend on in a practical world, the prop for my +judgment--" + +Harry: "Clouded judgment." + +Mel: "Expensive prop." + +Having grown used to their friendly insults, I sensed their resolution +weakening, felt the pendulum swinging back. + +The waitress interrupted with news of an urgent phone call. It was the +worst possible time for me to leave. And the news I got threw me. +Feeling the weight of the world, I returned. + +"Can't be in two places at once," I said bitterly. "Go ahead without me; +I'm leaving." + +"Wait a few minutes," Mel said, between bites of steak, "we want to +resign. Sit down." + +"Damn it, I can't! I spoke to The Boss. I've pulled a boo-boo, but big." + +"What happened?" + +"Bonestell will do the backgrounds, but he has to know what rocks we're +putting in the rooms. What rocks are we? Anybody have an idea what the +surface of Mars looks like? God, how could I have missed that?" + +"Sit down," Dex said casually, "we want to resign." + +Hazel added, "You can have your rocks in 24 hours. We worked it out +weeks ago. I _did_ read Van Es, and Harry has prospected, and Dex knows +minerals, and Mel pushed his way through Tyrrell's 'Principles of +Petrology'--" + +"The science of rocks," Mel interrupted, between bites of steak. + +"We got interested one day." Frank's pretty, dark eyes danced. + +"We want to resign," Dex repeated casually, "so sit down." + +I sat. + +They began throwing the ball faster than I could catch: "No atmosphere +on Mercury, then no oxidation; I insist there'd be no straight +metals.... The asteroids? Ferromagnesian blocks of some kind--any +basalts around here?... For Venus, grab a truckload of granodiorite--the +spotted stuff--from the Sierra-Nevadas and tint it pink.... Lateritic +soils for Mars? You crazy? Must have water and a subtropical +climate...." + +It hit me: a valid use for the GG, one that already saved money. Make +them a brain team, trouble-shooters, or problem-solvers on questions +that could not be solved. + +I said, "Fine, go ahead. About your resignations--" + +Mel said something indistinguishable--I'd caught him _on_ a bite of +steak. + +Hazel, belligerent, demanded: "Are you asking _us_ to resign?" + +Apparently I wasn't. So they stuck, and another crisis was met. +Unfortunately, by then, I'd forgotten the shock and warning I got from +the cat. + + * * * * * + +Things moved swiftly, more easily. The GG took over, becoming, in +effect, my staff. They'd become more: five different extensions of me, +each capable of acting correctly. As a team, they meshed beautifully. + +Too beautifully, at one point. Dex and Hazel were seeing eye-to-eye, +even in the dark, and I worried about the effect on the others. I might +as well have worried about the effect of a light bulb on the sun. They +married or some such, refused time off, and the GG functioned, if +anything, better. It was almost indecent the way the five got along +together. + +A new problem arose: temperature. We weren't reproducing actual +temperatures, but the rooms needed a marked change, for reality's sake. +I'd insisted on that, and having won the point, was stuck with it. It +was after 2 A.M.; I was alone in the office. + +The sound of the outer door closing startled me. Footsteps approached; I +hurried to clean my desk, sweeping the bottle into the drawer. + +"You're up too late. Go home." Frank had a nonarguable look in her eye. +"You're supposed to be getting sleep." + +"I am, far more than before you guys began helping, but--" + +"But with all that extra sleep, you're looking worse." + +"I don't _need_ any more sleep!" I said angrily, then tried diversion, +"Been on a date?" + +"Yes, but I thought I'd better check on you." She moved close to the +desk, and I remembered the last time we'd been alone, in the bar. Now I +was glad I wasn't drunk. + +"What the devil are you up to?" + + * * * * * + +She pawed through the desk drawers. "Finding what you tried to hide--" + +"Wait, Frank!" I yelled, too late. + +She looked at the bottle, then me, with a strange expression: a little +pity--not patronizing--but mostly feminine understanding. "Soda pop? Of +course. You don't like alcohol, do you?" + +"No." Gruffly. + +Her eyes blinked rapidly, as though holding back tears. "I know what's +the matter with you; I _really_ know." + +"There's nothing the matter with me that--" + +"That beating this mess won't solve." We hadn't heard Mel enter. He +leaned casually against the door. "Terrific idea for a story." + +I shrugged. "Seems to be homecoming night." + +"Not quite," he glanced at his watch, "but wait another few minutes." + +He was right: Harry, out of breath, was the last of the GG to arrive. + +"Now what?" I asked. "Surely this meeting isn't an accident?" + +Dex said thoughtfully, "No, not really, but it is in the sense you mean. +We didn't agree to appear tonight. Yet logically, it's time for the +temperature problem--well, I guess each of us came down to help." + +What could I do? That was the GG, characteristically, so we talked +temperatures. + +"What I was thinking," Harry began slowly, "was a sort of +superthermostat." Harry, as usual, came to the right starting point. + +Frank smiled, "That's right, especially considering layout. Venus and +Mercury are hot; the others, cold. What about a control console that'll +light when the rooms get outside normal temperature range? Then the +operator--" + +"Hey! Why an operator?" Mel questioned. "We ought to make this +automatic." He grinned. "Giant computer ... can see it now: the brain +comes alive, tries to destroy anyone turning it off--" + +I asked: "Have you been _reading_ the stuff you write?" Funny enough for +3 A.M. + +Dex said calmly, "We _can_ work this--in fact, we can tie it in pink +ribbons and forget it. An electronics outfit in Pasadena makes an +automatic scanning and logging system. Works off punched-paper tape. +We'll code the right poop, and the system will compare it with the +actual raw data. Feedback will be to a master control servo that'll +activate the heater or cooler. Now, we need the right pickup--" + +I snapped my fingers. "Variable resistor bridge. Couple of resistors +equal at the right temperature. There'll be a frequency change with +changing temperature--better than a thermocouple, I think." + +They looked at me as though I were butting in. + +"You've been reading, too," Dex accused. "Ok, we'll use a temperature +bulb. Trouble is, with this system, we'd better let it run continuously. +That'll drive costs up." + +Hazel asked, "Can't we use the heat, maybe to drive a compressor? The +sudden expansion of air could cool the rest. Harry?" + +Harry hadn't time to answer. + +"What'll this cost?" I snapped. + +"Roughly, 15 to 18 thousand," Dex replied. + +"_What?_" + +With fine impartiality, they ignored me completely. Harry continued, as +though without interruption, "Ye-es, I guess a compressor-and-coolant +system could be arranged ..." + + * * * * * + +We broke up at 6 A.M. I took one of my pills, frowning at the bottle. +Seemed to be emptying fast. Sleepily, I shook the thought off and faced +the new day--little knowing the opposition had managed to skizzle us +again. + +The last displays were moons of Jupiter and Saturn; it was impossible to +recreate tortured conditions of the planets themselves. Saturn's closest +moon, Mimas, was picked. + +Our grand finale: landing on Mimas with Saturn rising spectacularly out +of the east. Mimas is in the plane of the rings, so they couldn't be +obvious. We'd show enough, however, to make it damned impressive, and +explain it by libration of the satellite. + +The mechanics of realistically moving Saturn was rougher than a cob. And +that's where the opposition fixed us. They claimed there wasn't enough +drama in the tour. Let it end with a flash of light, a roar, and a +meteor striking nearby. + +The roar came from us. Mimas had no atmosphere--how could the meteor +sound off or burn up? We finally compromised, permitting the meteor to +hit. + +We'd decided early the customers couldn't walk through. Mel first, +Harry, then Dex, together produced an electric-powered, open runabout. +The cart ran on treads in contact with skillfully hidden tracks, for the +current channel. A futuristic touch, that--we'd say the cart ran on +broadcast power. + +The power source provided cart headlights, and made batteries +unnecessary for the guide's walkie-talkie and the customers' helmet +receivers. + +Mimas' last section of track was on a vibrating platform. The cart +tripped a switch; when the meteor supposedly hit, the platform would +drop and rise three inches, fast, twisting while it did--"enough," Mel +said grimly, "to shake the damned _kishkas_ out of 'em!" + +We cracked that one, just in time for another. It began with Venus, as +most of my problems had. We planned constant dust storms for Venus. Real +quick, there'd be nothing left of the Bonestell's backgrounds but a +blank wall, from mechanical erosion. + +And how did we intend--? + +Glass-- + +Too easily scratched. Lord, another one: how will the half-a-buck +customers be able to see inside? + +Glass and one of those silicon plastics? + +Better, but-- + +Harry beat it: glass, plastic, _and_ a boundary layer of cold air, +jetted down from the ceiling, in front of the background painting and +back of the look-in window. I was glad, for lately, Harry had begun to +age. Thin and gray, he showed the strain--as did all of us. + + * * * * * + +We were sitting in an administration office at the park. I now +recognized the symptoms; when the GG had no real problems, its +collective mind usually turned to my health. I wouldn't admit it, but I +felt a little peaked. Little? Hell, bone-tired, dog-weary pooped. Seemed +every motion was effort, but soon it would end. + +The phone rang. With the message, it _was_ ended. + +"Let's go, grouseketeers." + +There was almost a pregnant pause. Six months: conception of the idea to +delivery of finished product; six months, working together, fighting +men, nature, and the perversity of inanimate objects--all of this now +was done. + +No one moved; Frank verbalized it: "I'm scared." She sounded scared. + +"Better than being petrified, which I am," I answered. "But we might as +well face it." + +We dragged over to the TS building, an impressive structure. + +The guide played it straight, told us exactly how to suit up. Then, in +the cart, we edged into the tunnel that was the first lock, and--warned +to set our filters--emerged onto the blinding surface of Mercury. + +We felt the heat momentarily--Mercury and Venus were kept at a constant +140 F, the others at 0 F--but it was a deliberate thrill. Then cool air +from the cart suit-connections began circulating. + +Bonestell was magnificent, as always. Yellow landscape, spatter cones, +glittering streaks that might be metal in the volcanic ground--created +by dusting ground mica on wet glue to catch the reflection of the sun. +It was a masterpiece. + +The sun. Black sky holding a giant, blazing ball. Too damned yellow, but +filtered carbon arcs were the best we could do. + +Down, into the tunnel that was lock two. This next one ... Venus, +obvious opposition point of attack, where we'd had the most trouble: +Venus _had_ to be right. + +It was! A blast of wind struck us, and dust, swirling everywhere. We'd +discovered there's no such thing as a sand storm--it's really dust--so +we'd taken pains making things look right. Sand dunes were carefully +cemented in place; dust rippling over gave the proper illusion. + +Oddly shaped rocks, dimly seen, strengthened the impression of +wind-abraded topography. Rocks were reddish, overlain by smears of +bright yellow. Lot of trouble placing all that flowers of sulfur, but we +postulated a liquid sulfur-sulfur dioxide-carbon dioxide cycle. + +Overhead, a diffused, intense yellow light. The sun--we were on the +daylight side. + +I sighed, relaxed, knowing this one had worked out. + +We gave the moon little time. For those who had become homesick, Earth +was hanging magnificently in the sky. At a crater wall, we stopped, +ostensibly to let souvenir hunters pick at small pieces of lunar rock +without leaving the cart. + +We'd argued hours on what type to use, till Mel dragged out his rock +book. Most, automatically, had wanted basalt. However, the moon's +density being low, heavier rocks are probably scarce--one good reason +not to expect radioactive ores there. We finally settled for rhyolite +and obsidian. + +Stopping on the moon had another purpose. We kept the room temperature +at 70 F, for heating and cooling economy; the transition from Venus to +Mars was much simpler if ambient temperature dropped from 140 to 70 and +from 70 to 0, rather than straight through the range. + + * * * * * + +Next, a Martian polar cap, and we looked down a long canal that +disappeared on the horizon. Water appeared to run uphill for that +effect. The whole scene looked like an Arizona highway at dusk--what it +should have. To our right, a suggestion of--damn the opposition's +eyes--culture: a large stone whatzit. It was a jarring note. + +We selected one of those nondescript asteroids with just enough diameter +to show extreme curvature. Frank had done magnificently. I found myself +hanging onto the cart. Headlights deliberately dimmed, on the rocky +surface, the cart bumped wildly. The sky was black, broken only by +little, hard chunks of light. No horizon. The feeling of being ready to +drop was intense, possibly too much so. + +Europa, then, in a valley of ice. We'd picked Jupiter's third moon +because its frozen atmosphere permitted some eerie pseudo-ice +sculpturing. As we moved, Jupiter appeared between breaks and peaks in +the sheer wall. Worked nicely, seeing the monstrous planet distended +overhead, like a gaily colored beach ball moving with us, as the moon +from a train window. Unfortunately, the ice forms detracted somewhat. + +Mimas, pitch black, then a glow. Stark landscape quickly becoming +visible. Steep cliffs, rocky plain. Saturn rising. The rings, their +shadow on the globe, the beauty of it, made me sit stunned, though I +knew what to expect. + +The guide warned us radar spotted an approaching object, probably a +meteor. We ran, the cart at maximum speed--not much, really. It tore at +you, wanting to stare at Saturn, wanting to duck. + +Hit the special section, dropped and rose our three inches--one hell of +a distance--and the tour was over. I kept thinking, insanely, that the +meteor _was_ a perfect conflict touch. + +We unsuited silently. Finally, Hazel breathed, "Hallelujah!" It was +summation of success. There now remained but one thing: wait for the +quarry to show. + +I estimated the necessary time at four days and nights after opening. It +was hard to wait, hard not to fidget under the watchful--the only +word--eyes of the GG. They were up to something, undoubtedly. But there +was something far more important: I'd narrowed the 2,499,999,999 down to +five. + +The one I sought was a member of the GG. + + * * * * * + +Opening night brought Harry and Frank to my office. They tried to be +casual, engaged me in desultory nothings. Frank looked reproachful--I +was there too late. + +The following night, Mel ambled in at midnight. He grinned, discussed a +plot, suggested we go out for a beer, changed his mind, left. + +The third night, I waited in the dark. Nor was I disappointed: Dex and +Hazel showed. + +"What do you want? It's 2 A.M.!" + +There was a long regrouping pause; then Hazel said, "Dex has a fine +idea." + +"Well?" + +"I've been thinking about gravity--" + +"About time," I said sarcastically, disliking myself but hoping it would +get rid of them, "we opened three days ago." + +He ignored my petulance and grinned. "No, I meant anti-gravity. I think +it's possible. If you had a superconductor in an inductance field--" + +"Why tell me?" + +"Thought you'd have some ideas." + +I shook my head. "That's what I hired _you_ for. My only idea right now +is going to sleep." + +Bewildered, they left. + +And on the fourth night, no one came. So I headed for the Tour. Now, +having risked everything on my logic, I was a dead pigeon if wrong. +There were only minutes left. + +I eased through the back door, heard our automation equipment humming. +Despite darkness, I shortcutted, nearly reaching the door to the service +hallway in back of the planetary rooms. There was a distinct click, and +a flashlight blinded me. I waited, stifling a cry, knowing if it were +he, death was next. + +Death never spoke in such quiet, sweet tones. Frank asked, "What are you +doing here?" + +_Frank, Frank, not you!_ + +Surprise shocked me: the light, her voice, the sudden suspicion. Still, +diversion and counterattack ... "Perhaps you've the explaining to do," I +said nastily. "Why are you here?" + +Her wide-eyed ingenuousness making me more suspicious, she answered, +"Waiting to see if you'd appear." Then she stopped being truthful: "You +forget we had a date--" + +"We didn't have any damned date," I said flatly, hurting deep within. + +"All right, I want to know why you're still driving yourself. It isn't +work; that's finished." + +The way she talked made me hopeful. Maybe she wasn't the one ... and +then came fear. Frank, if he's here, you're in danger. The monster +respects nothing we hold dear--law, property, dignity, life. + +There was one way to find out: make her leave. I wrenched the flashlight +from her, smashed it on the concrete floor. "I mean this: get the hell +out of here, and stay out!" + +She said, distastefully, "I've seen it happen, but never this fast. +You've gone Hollywood, you're a genius, you're tremendous--forgetting +other people who helped. Go ahead with your mysterious deal--and I hope +we never meet again." + +I struggled with ambivalence. This might be a trick; if not, Frank now +hated me irreparably. + + * * * * * + +No time to worry about human emotions, not any more. Nausea reminded me +of the primary purpose. I continued down the dark hallway, listening for +Frank's return, hoping she needn't die. + +Light was unnecessary: I knew the right door. Because it started here, +it would end here. Quickly, silently, I slipped inside the Venus room. +With peculiar relief, I realized Frank wasn't it: my nose led me right +to the monster. + +In an ecstatic, semistuporous state, smelling strongly of sulfur +dioxide, he couldn't have been aware of me. Couldn't? + +"It took you long enough." He didn't bother to turn from the rock he was +huddled against. + +"I had to be sure." I felt anything but the calm carried in my voice. +"No wonder the GG got the right answers, with you making initial starts. +Say, were you responsible for the cat that rolled at me?" + +"An accident. Obviously, I wanted this room built as much as you." +Harry, now undisguised, languorously turned. "Your little trap didn't +quite come off--a danger in fighting a superior intellect." + +"No trap. I had a job to do; it's done." + +"Job? Job?" Infuriated, leaping to his feet, he shouted, "Speak the +native tongue, filth!" + +"What's the use? Because of you, I'll never again have the chance. And +you no longer have a native tongue." + +"Who were those judges," he asked bitterly, "to declare _me_ an +outcast?" + +"Representatives of an outraged society." I almost lost my temper, +thinking of this deviant's crimes. "You were lucky to get banishment +instead of death." + +He grinned. "So were you." + +"True. I tried to find the proper place, where you'd have some chance." + +He laughed openly. "I fixed the ship nicely." + +"You don't understand at all--" + +"I counted on your being a hero, trying to save us. So, I escaped." + +"For three years only." + +"What do you mean?" + +"One of us won't leave here." + +Harry frowned, then tried cunning. "Aren't you being silly? We are +hopelessly marooned. Surely there are overriding considerations to your +childish devotion to duty." + +I shook my head. "This is too small a room for us. Even if I trusted +you, I couldn't allow you at this naive young world." + +Voices suddenly approached. "The GG?" Harry questioned. + +"Didn't know they were coming." Desperately, I looked about, found an +eroded mass. "Hide there; I'll get rid of them." + +"You'd better--we have business." Possibly it was the only time I've +agreed with him. Mel and Dex came in. I called, "Over here!" + + * * * * * + +Dex snapped his fingers. "_Knew_ it was Venus." + +Mel wrinkled his nose. "Sulfur dioxide, too, like we figured. Soda pop, +when I broke into that tender scene between you and Frank--that gave you +necessary carbon dioxide, right, am I not?" + +"Yes ... Why don't you guys leave me alone?" Beginning to falter in the +heat, they dripped perspiration. "You could die in this chilly +climate." + +Dex said, "Listen for a second. We don't have to break up. Let's form a +service organization, 'Problems, Inc.' or some equally stupid title. +Very soon we could afford a private bedroom, like this, for you to stay +in all the time--" + +"Need only two or three nights in ten." Harry was moving restlessly. He +wouldn't wait much longer. "Combination of oxygen, carbon dioxide, and +sulfur under relatively high temperature is how I eat. Pills can +substitute, but not for protracted periods. That's why I had to build +this room. Couple of weeks, and I'll be in the pink; as pink as you, +anyway." + +Abruptly, I lay down, ignoring them. I had to make my friends go. Harry +could literally have shredded them. Footsteps: the door closed; relief +and loneliness joined me, but only for a moment. + +His voice sliced the darkness: "I'm a man of honor, and must warn you. +If we fight, you'll lose. I escaped with far more pills than you; you're +weaker." + +I said sardonically, "With you stealing parts of my supply, that's +probably the only truthful thing you've said!" + +"I've been in here three nights, adjusting my metabolism ..." + +He came at me then, not breaking his flow of speech. At home, I'd have +been surprised at the dishonor. Instead, I was expecting it. He ran into +my balled fist. + +If we'd been home ... if, if, if, if, if. At full strength, I could have +broken his neck with the blow. Now, he simply rolled back and fell. +Laughing, he attacked again. We were weak as babes, and fought like it. +Clumsily, slowly, we went through the motions. + +He'd been right--he was a little stronger, and the relative difference +began to tell. Soon I was falling from his blows. + +Hands on my neck, he kneed me hard in the stomach. Violently ill, I felt +the sulfur dioxide rush from my lungs. + +I remembered one trick they'd taught at school, and I used it. Unable to +break his hold, I managed to get my hands around his throat. We locked, +each silent. + +Silent until I felt my last reserves going, until the crooning of the +Song of Eternity began. This couldn't happen, not to this planet. With +all my strength, I gave one last squeeze--but it failed. From somewhere, +light-years of light-years away, I heard Frank, realized I'd played the +fool: she'd been working for the monster. + +A blinding flash inside my head--and the Last Darkness descended. + + * * * * * + +The light hadn't been inside my head: it flooded the room. Dimly, I was +aware of the injection, and immediately felt better. Harry was gone. + +The GG, minus one, was gathered around. Mel said, "It was a dilute +solution of cerium nitrate. We figured the percentage on the basis of +the pill Frank swiped. Hope you aren't poisoned." + +"No." My voice was weak, "Need it. Oxidizing agent for the sulfur." + +"Harry's dead," Hazel frowned. "When we came in, you'd broken his neck, +were crooning to yourself." + +So _I_ had been crooning the Song of Eternity? "I'm a"--I felt silly--"a +cop on a mission. I waited until whichever of you it was settled down +here. That one had to be the criminal, to be done away with." + +"Dex and I got rid of the body," Mel said. "No need to worry unless ... +unless you've read my stories. Perhaps _you_ are the criminal. I'll be +watching." + +"No proof, of course ... Do _you_ believe I'm the criminal?" + +Mel smiled. "No, but I'll watch anyway." + +"More closely than tonight, I hope," Hazel said acidly. "If it hadn't +been for her...." + + * * * * * + +I saw Frank, and was ashamed of my suspicions. She was silent, looking +concerned. They all did, and I was warmed. Because, despite discomfort, +they worried about me, an alien, a stranger. "Better leave. Heat's +getting you." + +Dex asked, "When are you going back?" + +I shrugged. "Never. The ship is in the Gulf of California ... Harry did +that." + +"What about our company? We can research anti-gravity. You might reach +home yet." + +I shook my head. "Said I was a policeman. I don't know very much--" + +"Perfectly normal!" Mel said before Hazel shooshed him. + +Dex was insistent: "Any cop knows at least something about his +motorcycle. Was I right about the superconductor?" + +"Yes. Now, get out of here, idiots, before there's no one left to form +the company!" + +Hazel, perspiring freely, red hair shimmering, kissed me. "We figured +you out real, real early. We aren't ever wrong, and I'm glad we stayed +with you, Mr. Venus." She laughed joyously, "First time I've ever kissed +a Venusian!" + +Frank, head close to mine, said softly, "I'm terribly sorry I said those +things, but you had to believe I was angry, so I could call the +others--" + +"And I did everything possible to get you out...." + +We were silent; then I said what I'd been fighting not to, for so long. +"Frank ... Francis?" + +She understood, and stared horrified at me. I'd lost. Bowed my head, +feeling like the damned fool I was. + +She looked around the room. "It's so strange!" + +"And with ingrained racial conditioning, you couldn't respond to a +thin, sallow alien." + +"I don't know," she said hesitantly. + +"I do!" Mel said. "The oldest story in science fiction; it's true; I +can't write it." + +"Why not?" + +"No editor in right or wrong mind would buy the beautiful Earth damsel, +after whom lusts the Monster from Venus--" + +Frank snapped: "He isn't a monster! And his manners are better than many +writers' I could name ..." + +Her voice trailed off with awareness of Mel's tiny smile--a smile that +widened. He pulled her toward the door. "What a story! We'll hold the +wedding in a Turkish Bath." + +Alone, I sighed, comfortable again after three years. I was grateful to +the GG, and would do anything, within limits, for them. Yet, my newly +adopted planet needed protection. Babes in the woods, they'd be torn to +pieces outside. + +Fortunately, the GG didn't know my meaning of "policeman", my home's +highest order of intellect. I'd assure the group finally getting +anti-gravity and use of planetary lines of force. But not the hyperspace +drive, not for a good long while. + +I certainly couldn't destroy the GG's confidence. I couldn't hurt them. +They were so sure about me--so sure they were never wrong. How could I +explain I'd been looking for a decent, habitable planet like Venus to +discharge my captive, that I was from another galaxy? + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note + +This etext was produced from _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_ March +1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Question of Comfort, by Les Collins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUESTION OF COMFORT *** + +***** This file should be named 22597.txt or 22597.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/9/22597/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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