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diff --git a/23102-h/23102-h.htm b/23102-h/23102-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d840a45 --- /dev/null +++ b/23102-h/23102-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2161 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of This World Must Die!, by H. B. Fyfe + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h1,h2 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + + hr {width: 33%; margin: 1em auto; clear: both; visibility: hidden;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; font-size: .9em;} + + .trans1 {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + + img {border: none} + + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; + font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + + .block1 {width: 37em; border: solid 1px; padding: 1em 3em; margin: 0 auto; + font-weight: bold; font-size: smaller; text-align: justify; word-spacing: .3em;} + .block2 {width: 20em; border: solid 5px; padding: .5em; margin: 2em auto;} + .block3 {width: 22em; margin: 2em auto; font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;} + .subhd {font-size: larger; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of This World Must Die!, by Horace Brown Fyfe + +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: This World Must Die! + +Author: Horace Brown Fyfe + +Release Date: October 20, 2007 [EBook #23102] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THIS WORLD MUST DIE! *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 344px;"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="344" height="550" alt="" title="" /> +The girl clawed at Brecken's face as he raised the metal bar ...</div> + + + + + + +<div class="block1">Social living requires the elimination, or at very best, the modification of many elements +necessary to survival in "nature". And when an emergency arises, very often it is +the person who would be considered a "criminal", in other situations, who alone is +able to cope with the necessities. If we manage to eliminate "violence" from human +affairs, what will we find when a need for "violence" arises—a need outside of man's +artificial control of his environment?</div> + + +<div class="block2"><h1><big>THIS WORLD<br /> +MUST DIE!</big></h1> + +<p class="subhd">Feature Novelet of Dread Necessity</p></div> + +<div class="block3">"You have been chosen for this mission of murder +because you are the only people in our culture +who are capable of this type of violence. You have +broken our laws, and this is your punishment!"</div> + + + +<h2>By H. B. Fyfe</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Lou Phillips</span> sat on the cold +metal deck of the control room, +seething with a growing dislike +for the old man.</p> + +<p>"What you are here for," the other +had told him when the guards had +brought Phillips in, "is a simple crime +of violence. You'll do, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>The old man paced the deck impatiently, +while a pair of armed guards +maintained a watchful silence by the +door. Two more men in plain gray +shirts and trousers sat beside Phillips, +leaning back sullenly against the +bulkhead. He guessed that they were +waiting for a fourth, remembering that +three other figures had been hustled +aboard with him at the Lunar spaceport.</p> + +<p>The door slid open, allowing another +youth in gray uniform to stumble +inside. One of the guards in the corridor +beyond shoved the newcomer +forward, and Phillips' eyebrows +twitched as he had a closer look. This +last prisoner was a girl.</p> + +<p>He thought she might have been +pretty, with a touch of lipstick and a +kinder arrangement of her short, ash-blonde +hair; but he lowered his eyes +as her hard, wary stare flickered past +him. She walked over to the bulkhead +and took a seat at the other end of +the little group.</p> + +<p>The old man turned, scanning their +faces critically. "I am in charge of a +peculiar project," he announced +abruptly. "The director of the Lunar +Detention Colony claims that you four +are the best he has—<i>for our purposes</i>!"</p> + +<p>Long habit kept the seated ones +guardedly silent. Seeing, apparently, +that they would not relax, he continued.</p> + +<p>"You were chosen because each of +you has received a sentence of detention +for life because of tendencies toward +violence in one form or another. +In our twenty-second century civilization +such homicidal inclinations are +quite rare, due to the law-abiding +habits of generations under the Interplanetary +Council."</p> + +<p>He had been pacing the cramped +space left free by the equipment, the +guards, and the four seated prisoners. +Now he paused, as if mildly astonished +at what he was about to say.</p> + +<p>"In fact, now that we are faced by +a situation demanding illegal violence, +it appears that no <i>normal</i> citizen is +capable of committing such an act. +Using you may eliminate costly +screening processes ... <i>and save time</i>. +Incidentally, I am Anthony Varret, +Undersecretary for Security in the +Council."</p> + +<p>None of the four showed any overt +sign of being impressed. Phillips +knew that the others, like himself, +were scrutinizing the old man with +cold, secretive stares. They had +learned through harsh experience to +keep their own counsels. Varret +shrugged. "Well, then," he said dryly, +"I might as well call the roll. I have +been supplied with accurate records."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">He drew a notebook</span> +from his pocket, consulted it +briefly, then nodded at the man next +to the girl. "Robert Brecken," he recited, +"age thirty-one, six feet, one +hundred eighty-five pounds, hair reddish +brown, eyes green, complexion +ruddy. Convicted of unjustified homicide +by personal assault while resisting +arrest for embezzlement. Detention +record unsatisfactory. Implicated +in two minor mutinies."</p> + +<p>He glanced next at the youth beside +Phillips. "Raymond Truesdale, age +twenty-two, five-feet-five, one-thirty. +Hair black, eyes dark brown, complexion +pale. Convicted of two suicide +attempts following failures in various +artistic fields. Detention record fair, +psychological report poor."</p> + +<p>His frosty eyes met Phillips'. +"Louis Phillips, age twenty-six, five-ten, +one-eighty. Hair brown, eyes +brown, complexion darkly tanned—that +was before Luna, wasn't it, +Phillips? Convicted of unjustified +homicide, having assaulted a jet +mechanic so as to cause death. Detention +record satisfactory."</p> + +<p>The blonde girl was last in Varret's +review. "Donna Bailey, age twenty-three, +five-five, one-fifteen. Hair +blonde, eyes blue, complexion fair. +Convicted of manslaughter by negligence, +while piloting an atmosphere +sport rocket in an intoxicated condition. +Detention record satisfactory."</p> + +<p>Varret fell silent, regarding them +with cynical disgust. His lips twisted +slightly with distaste. "There we have +it," he said. "A violent-tempered thief +from the business world; an over-expensive +purchase by a rich playboy +who became his widow by her own +negligence; a mentally-unstable fool +who thought he was artistically gifted, +and a rocket engineer who was +too brutally careless with his own +strength when irritated by a space-fatigued +helper. I wonder if you'll +do...?"</p> + +<p>Phillips felt impelled at last to +speak. "Just what plans do you have +for us?" he demanded harshly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing complicated," replied Varret, +matching the tone. "We need you +to perform a mass murder!"</p> + +<p>Phillips blinked, despite his prison-learned +reserve. He heard the girl +suck in her breath sharply, and felt +the youth beside him begin to tremble.</p> + +<p>"I have shocked you, I see," +sneered Varret. "Well, I assure you, +it shocks me also, probably a good +deal more since I have lived a normal +life. However—this is the background:</p> + +<p>"About three months ago, we had +reports of the outbreak of a deadly +plague in one of the asteroid groups. +As near as can be determined, it was +spread by the crew of an exploratory +rocket after the discovery of a new +asteroid. It began to sweep through +the mining colonies out there with the +velocity of an expanding nova!"</p> + +<p>"Where was your Health Department?" +asked the man named Brecken +in a sneering tone.</p> + +<p>Varret frowned at him. "Several +members gave their lives trying to +learn the nature of the disease. We +have no information to date, except +a theory that it attacks the nervous +and circulatory systems, because the +reports indicate that the reason of the +victim is markedly affected as the +disease progresses. Not a single survivor +is known—they all die in raving +insanity. We do not even know with +certainty how it is communicated."</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" asked +Phillips.</p> + +<p>"Isolation. It is all we <i>can</i> do, until +our medical men can make some +progress. We evacuated an asteroid +colony and began to ship into it any +person showing any of the symptoms, +using a cruiser piloted by remote control. +That was where we slipped."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"On the last trip—unless we have +not really collected <i>all</i> the sufferers—we +lost control. Someone being +transported knew his spaceships. +Shortly thereafter, a gibbering lunatic +got on the screen and threatened the +escorting rocket. He announced the +cruiser would head for Mars, where +the passengers would demand their +freedom. They are past reasoning +with."</p> + +<p>"Can't say I really blame them," +Phillips remarked.</p> + +<p>"Blame them? Of course not! +Neither do I. What has that to do +with it? What has the Council so +worried is that this thing will get +loose on Mars, that it may even be +carried to Earth and Venus. There +are over a hundred persons in that +ship, no longer responsible for their +actions but capable of causing deaths +by the billions. We <i>want</i> to help +them, but we simply must hold the +line on this quarantine until we solve +the medical problem."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">They stared at him in</span> +silence, and Phillips noticed +that the old man's forehead was moist +with tiny beads of perspiration.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see? They are as good +as dead. No knowledge or help of man +can save them—as of this moment. If +we are <i>ever</i> to be of any help, we +must prevent a worse catastrophe.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the survival ship is a world +in itself, but this world must die!"</p> + +<p>For a minute or two, it seemed to +Phillips that he could hear each person +in the control room breathing. +Finally, there was a small sound of +cloth rubbing on metal as Brecken +stirred. "Why pick on us?" he rasped +from his seat on the deck. "I'm no +volunteer!"</p> + +<p>"I know what you are," replied +Varret sharply. "I know what you all +are. You have been chosen for this +mission of murder, because you are +the only people in our culture who +are capable of this kind of violence. +You have broken our laws, and this +is your punishment.</p> + +<p>"It would take us too long to find +others like you who had merely never +faced the same circumstances that +sent you four to Luna. We have made +attempts to attack this vessel. Manned +by normal men, our ships could accomplish +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Phillips.</p> + +<p>"<i>The crews found they could not +kill!</i>"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"It amounts to that. One pilot +blacked out at the start of an offensive +approach. He lost contact before +recovering—you realize how quickly +that happens at interplanetary speeds. +On several other ships, there were +passive mutinies. One was destroyed; +how, we do not know."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you get some <i>men</i> in +your Department of Security?" +sneered Brecken.</p> + +<p>Varret sighed. "It was far from +simple cowardice. The crews had fine +records. We have been civilized too +long, so long that the idea of deliberate +killing unnerved them. As to the +one ship that did make some motion +to attack, it may have been destroyed +by the cruiser's defenses, or even by +sabotage. Somebody may quite possibly +have found the mission too repulsive +to face with complete sanity."</p> + +<p>He was interrupted by a uniformed +man, who slid the door open and gestured +significantly. Varret paused. He +nodded, and the newcomer retired.</p> + +<p>"I have only a few minutes," said +the old man, facing them again. "To +be brief, this patrol vessel is armed +with the best we have in guided atomic +missiles and sensitive detection devices. +Technical manuals are supplied +for everything we could think of, +though I doubt you will need them. +We have brought you to within a +few hundred miles of <i>them</i>.</p> + +<p>"In a few minutes, my men and I +will transfer to an escort ship. We +will slip in behind Deimos, not too far +away, and pick you up afterward to +land you on Mars. Any questions?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phillips.</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Why should we do anything at +all?"</p> + +<p>Varret's lips tightened. A guard +shrugged contemptuously. "I was told +to expect that attitude," the old man +admitted. "I suppose it is part of +the character we now think is needed +for such an expedition."</p> + +<p>"You could hardly expect co-operation," +Phillips pointed out. "Laws +against any kind of homicide are all +well enough, but I for one don't see +why I should draw the same sentence +as a murderer. I had to protect myself +or die—probably through having +that crazy fool blow up my rocket +room."</p> + +<p>"You'll make a cold landing on Sol +before you'll get any help from me!" +Brecken added defiantly.</p> + +<p>The girl said nothing, but Truesdale +muttered darkly.</p> + +<p>"Please!" said Varret. "I have no +time to argue about our social and +legal codes. The Council foresaw that +the threat of being yourselves subject +to this plague might not be +enough. If you succeed in destroying +or even immobilizing the cruiser, I +can offer you anything you want +short of unsupervised liberty. You +must still be watched as potential +dangers to society, but you may otherwise +be as wealthy or independent as +you wish."</p> + +<p>He motioned to the guards, who had +begun to fidget impatiently; wordlessly +they left the compartment.</p> + +<p>"You can settle your relations +among yourselves," said Varret. "We +chose Bailey partly because she has +piloted rockets privately, and Phillips +because he was a space engineer. Perhaps +Brecken could handle the torpedoes—I +do not know." He rubbed +his chin uneasily. "Frankly, I find +intimate discussion of the affair repulsive. +I hope you will decide to +do what is necessary for the welfare +of Earth."</p> + +<p>He turned abruptly and left the +control room. They heard distant +voices exhorting him to hurry.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 169px;"> +<img src="images/002.png" width="169" height="88" alt="2" title="2" /> +</div> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Brecken</span> arose and crept furtively to +the door. He leaned +out to peer down the corridor. +The nervous Truesdale bounced up to +crowd behind him. Phillips and the +girl looked at each other; she +shrugged, and they too got to their +feet. She turned to the instrument +panels; and after a moment, Phillips +joined her.</p> + +<p>"How have they got it?" he asked. +"Controls locked?"</p> + +<p>"No," murmured Donna. "Don't +need to; we're just coasting. Nice +job, though. Fast as a racer, I imagine."</p> + +<p>"You know something about +racers?"</p> + +<p>"I used to think I did," she answered, +shortly.</p> + +<p>He saw pain darken her blue eyes +and decided to probe no further. Instead, +he wandered about, inspecting +the instruments. A few minutes later, +with a spaceman's indefinable alertness, +he felt a change in the ship.</p> + +<p>"They still aboard?" he called to +Truesdale, who remained at the door +although Brecken had disappeared.</p> + +<p>The youth glanced over his shoulder +but did not trouble to reply. +Phillips' jaw set, and he took a quick +step toward the other. Before he +reached the doorway, however, Brecken +returned from the corridor. Shouldering +Truesdale aside, he strode into +the control room. "Well," he announced, +"the old fool hopped off +like he said. Got a viewer in here?"</p> + +<p>"I have it on now," called Donna +from the instrument desk. "There he +goes."</p> + +<p>They gathered around the screen +to watch. Near one edge was the image +of another ship, with several +spacesuited figures clustered around +its entrance port. The girl made an +adjustment, and the view crept over +to the center of the screen just as the +last of the figures vanished into the +opening. Almost immediately, the +other rocket slanted away on a new +course.</p> + +<p>Donna followed it on the screen +until the brief flashes of its jets were +dimmed by a new radiance—the ruddy +disk of Mars. "We <i>are</i> where he +said," she admitted. "Now what?"</p> + +<p>She looked at Phillips, who merely +shrugged. "What do you make of +it?" she insisted.</p> + +<p>"Pretty much as he said, probably," +answered the engineer. "He's heading +for Deimos, I suppose. I hear they're +landscaping the whole moon—it's +only about five miles in diameter—and +building a new space station for +a radio beacon and relay."</p> + +<p>"Does that log say anything about +the plague ship?" asked Truesdale +nervously.</p> + +<p>Donna scanned the observation record, +then adjusted the viewer. The +red radiance of Mars fled, to be replaced +by a dimmer scene of distant +stars.</p> + +<p>"In there someplace," she said. +"Out of range of this screen, but we +could probably locate it with detector +instruments."</p> + +<p>"Why all the jabber?" demanded +Brecken. "Let's get going!"</p> + +<p>Phillips stared at him. "What's the +rush? Did he sell you that easily?"</p> + +<p>"Huh? Oh, hell, no! I mean let's +make a dive for Mars. They were +dumb to set us loose with a fast ship. +We're dumber if we don't use it!"</p> + +<p>"That's right," agreed Truesdale +eagerly. "We don't owe them anything. +They owe us; for the years +they took out of our lives!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Truesdale had a point</span> +there, Phillips felt. This could +grow into quite a discussion, and he +was not sure which side he wanted +to take. He had no great urge to become +a hero, but on the other hand +there was something about Brecken +that aroused a certain obstinacy in +him.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute!" Donna protested; +"what do you think you're going to +do?"</p> + +<p>"Slip into a curve for Mars," said +Brecken. "Slow down enough to take +to chutes an' let this can smack up +in the deserts somewhere. They'll +never know if we got out, an' we'll +be on our own."</p> + +<p>The girl turned to Phillips. "How +about you?" she asked. "Don't you +think we should at least consider what +Varret told us? If this plague is as +dangerous as he says, this is no time +to—"</p> + +<p>"Do you <i>have</i> to be so bloodthirsty?" +complained Truesdale.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to kill anybody," declared +the girl; "maybe we could just +disable the cruiser."</p> + +<p>"Aw, kill your jets!" Brecken broke +in. "I've been waiting for a chance +like this for years. Don't get any +ideas!"</p> + +<p>"But listen!" pleaded Donna. "It's +a terrible thing, but if we don't do +it, we won't be safe on Mars ourselves; +they'll land and set an epidemic +loose."</p> + +<p>"I'll take my chances with it," said +Brecken. "You're supposed to know +something about piloting. Now get +us on a curve for Mars, an' be snappy +about it!"</p> + +<p>Donna turned desperately to Phillips.</p> + +<p>"Why not look over the ship," the +engineer suggested, "before we blast +off on half our jets? We can make +up our minds when we see what we +have for fuel and weapons."</p> + +<p>Brecken opened his mouth to object, +but was smitten by an unpleasant +thought. "Suppose they didn't +leave us enough fuel to make Mars!"</p> + +<p>"We can find out soon enough," +said Phillips, leading the way to the +door.</p> + +<p>They trooped down the corridor on +his heels, past the few closet-like +compartments set aside for living +quarters. It was a single-deck ship, +with storage compartments above and +below for fuel, oxygen, and other +necessities. The corridor was liberally +supplied with handrails, apparently in +case of failure of the artificial gravity +system.</p> + +<p>About halfway to the end, another +passage crossed the fore-and-aft one, +and a few steps farther was a ladder. +This extended up and down a vertical +well, which in space amounted to +a second cross corridor. Phillips was +right when he guessed that the door +beyond opened into the rocket room.</p> + +<p>The others were bored by the power +plant of the ship. The engineer, +however, could not repress a thrill at +once more standing surrounded by +the gauges, valves, and pumps with +which he had formerly lived. He +strode about, examining and comprehending +such appliances as seemed +new since his last service in space.</p> + +<p>"How about it?" demanded Brecken. +"Can you handle it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," answered Phillips confidently. +"Mostly automatic anyway."</p> + +<p>"Then we can get movin' whenever +we want?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so. The tanks are nearly +full; let's find those space torpedoes +the old man mentioned."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it won't hurt, at that," +grumbled Brecken.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">He led the way out, but</span> +paused indecisively. Phillips +stepped past him and considered the +cross passages near the midpoint of +the corridor. Those in the plane of +the control room deck probably led to +port and starboard airlocks, he reasoned, +so the others might lead to the +torpedo turrets.</p> + +<p>He went to the vertical well and +started up the ladder, hearing the +others follow. At the top, he was confronted +by a hatch with a red danger +sign. Glancing about, he located the +gauges that reported the air pressure +beyond. Normal.</p> + +<p>"Make a little room," he said, looking +down to Brecken.</p> + +<p>The big, ruddy face retreated a +few rungs. Phillips could hear the +others scrambling further down. He +got his head out of the way before +pulling the switch that opened the +hatch. With a subdued humming of +electric motors, the massively constructed +door swung down. One after +another, they pulled themselves up +into the compartment.</p> + +<p>"This must be where they set controls +for launching," guessed Phillips, +leaning back against a rack of emergency +spacesuits. "That intercom +screen on the bulkhead is probably +plugged in to the control room. Looks +as if the torpedoes themselves are +stored under that hatch at the after +end."</p> + +<p>"How do they kick them off?" +asked Brecken.</p> + +<p>"Those conveyor belts run them +into tubes in the forward bulkhead. +A charge of compressed air blows +them out, and then the rockets are +started and controlled by radio."</p> + +<p>"You mean we have to point at a +target to fire?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Once the rockets are going, +the torpedo can be maneuvered +and aimed anywhere by remote control."</p> + +<p>"I've seen enough," announced +Truesdale. "I'm hungry."</p> + +<p>At that, they all decided to return +to the main deck. Phillips carefully +closed the airtight hatch as they left, +then followed the others in search of +the galley.</p> + +<p>Later, after a very unsatisfactory +meal of packaged concentrates, they +loitered sullenly in the control room +once more while Donna studied the +controls. Phillips had finally decided +that he could wear the third spacesuit +on the rack if he had to. He was +idly examining the tools supplied with +it when his thoughts were interrupted.</p> + +<p>Young Truesdale had been monkeying +with a range indicator for some +time, but now his sharp outcry drew +all eyes to him.</p> + +<p>The others immediately gathered to +peer over his shoulder. A needle flickered +wildly from one side of the dial +to the other.</p> + +<p>"Here! Get it balanced," said +Phillips, thrusting a powerful arm between +the crowded bodies. As his deft +adjustment steadied the needle, he +stepped back and leaned against the +bulkhead to study their faces. Truesdale's +was pale.</p> + +<p>"It's them!" he panted.</p> + +<p>"Well," asked Donna, "what will it +be?"</p> + +<p>"Whaddya mean?" demanded +Brecken, red-faced. "It'll be get dam' +well outa here, that's what it'll be!"</p> + +<p>"Let's see you go," invited the girl +coolly. "How well do <i>you</i> pilot a +rocket?"</p> + +<p>Brecken's jaw dropped. "Wh-wh-what? +You crazy? Did you swallow +all that stuff the old man told you?" +he sputtered.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Donna. "They +didn't bring us all the way out here +for nothing. Varret was scared. If +it's that dangerous, somebody just has +to do it—and we're here!"</p> + +<p>"Not for long," said Brecken in an +ugly tone. "Get hot on those controls. +You, Phillips! Run back to that rocket +room and see that things work!"</p> + +<p>"You try it," suggested the engineer +quietly.</p> + +<p>He would have preferred to avoid +the trouble the girl had been stirring +up, but he did not relish Brecken's +tone. A few days off Luna, he reflected, +and already he was getting +independent.</p> + +<p>"Listen," said Donna, encouraged +in her defiance, "when I touch those +controls, we'll go right up and touch +noses with them. You'd better have +a torpedo ready!"</p> + +<p>She turned to the banks of buttons +and switches. Muffled thunder from +the stern jets trembled through the +hull as the men staggered.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 184px;"> +<img src="images/003.png" width="184" height="101" alt="3" title="3" /> +</div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Brecken</span> recovered his balance +first. With a snarl, he grabbed +the girl by the nape of the neck +and shook her roughly. Glimpsing +Phillips' cold sneer, he reached back +and seized a heavy metal bar from the +spacesuit rack.</p> + +<p>"Now, dammit!" he grated. "You'll +do like I tell you! And <i>you</i> get back +there an' see that those tubes recharge +okay!"</p> + +<p>Phillips felt a hard anger swelling +his throat. From the corner of his +eye, he saw Truesdale shrinking back +against the bulkhead. He glanced +about desperately for something with +which to parry Brecken's bar.</p> + +<p>It was the girl who broke the tense +silence. With a gasping intake of +breath, she reached up to claw at +Brecken's face. Cursing, the man +twisted his head away to protect his +eyes. He released his grip on the girl's +neck and swung a clumsy, backhand +blow at her head. Donna stumbled, +and collapsed to the deck.</p> + +<p><i>Now or never</i>, Phillips told himself. +Without waiting to think, he +hurled himself forward.</p> + +<p>Brecken saw him coming, and tried +to shift around to meet the engineer's +charge. Phillips crashed into him +shoulder first, and they both brought +up against the opposite bulkhead with +a thud. He concentrated all his +strength into wringing the other's +forearm until he heard the bar clang +to the deck.</p> + +<p>Brecken clubbed him on the side of +the head with a wild left swing, and +Phillips found the big man's foot in +the way when he tried to sidestep. He +lost his balance, but kept his grasp +on the other so that they went down +together, thrashing about for some +opening. Brecken was red-faced with +a maniacal rage. Beads of saliva +sprayed from his twisted lips as he +sputtered curses.</p> + +<p>The engineer let go suddenly and +jolted the other under the chin with +the heel of his left hand. The man +arched backward, but Phillips caught +a knee in the chest that sent him +slithering across the deck. As he +strove to twist to his hands and +knees, he saw Brecken groping for +the bar.</p> + +<p><i>Never reach him</i>, thought Phillips +frantically.</p> + +<p>Thrusting one foot against the leg +of an anchored data desk, he raised +himself half upright as he lunged desperately +at Brecken. Strangely, it occurred +to Phillips for a fleeting lapse +of time that old Varret had been reasonably +astute in his selections, if he +desired violent-tempered throwbacks. +Then the breath was knocked out of +him as he smashed into Brecken with +a force that sent them both hurtling +into the bulkhead.</p> + +<p>The other's grunt of pain was almost +lost beneath the sharp smack of +bone against metal. Phillips scrambled +up hastily, but his opponent lay still.</p> + +<p>Over by the data desk, Donna was +beginning to squirm quietly and make +groping motions with her outstretched +hands. Truesdale had retreated to the +forward end of the control room, his +features blanched by apprehension.</p> + +<p><i>I'll bet</i>, thought Phillips, <i>that old +Varret slipped up in your case, my lad. +Your reaction to violence must be +what they call normal</i>.</p> + +<p>He beckoned brusquely. "Give me +a hand with him," he ordered.</p> + +<p>Brecken still showed no sign of +consciousness. Truesdale approached +warily, and with his aid Phillips lifted +the unconscious man. With their burden +limp in their hands, they staggered +down the corridor to one of the +sleeping compartments. There, they +slung him into a bunk.</p> + +<p>"He needs attention," said Truesdale.</p> + +<p>"He won't get it from me," snapped +Phillips. "Lumps on the head were +his idea; there's no time to fool with +him."</p> + +<p>He pulled the sliding door shut, noticing +that it had no lock. Since Brecken +would probably be some time recovering, +however, he put that out of +his mind.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Having returned to the</span> +control room, they discovered +Donna sitting up. At the sight of them, +she pulled herself somewhat shakily +to a standing position, and brushed +back her blonde hair.</p> + +<p>"What happened?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"He bumped his head on the bulkhead," +said Phillips shortly.</p> + +<p>This was accepted without comment. +They turned to the instruments and +examined the dial of the range indicator.</p> + +<p>"They aren't very far away," said +Donna quietly. "Where do you stand +now, Phillips?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose we'd better do it," he +admitted. "Pretty vicious, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"No!" she snapped. "I don't like +it either; I've never caused the death +of any human being."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure. That's why you were on +Luna!"</p> + +<p>She looked at him levelly in the eye, +but her shoulders drooped a trifle with +the resignation of one who has often +been disbelieved.</p> + +<p>"My husband was a nice guy," she +murmured, "but he never did know +when he had a drink too many for +piloting his jet. He passed out trying +to give me a wild ride, and I got to +the controls just in time to crash-land +the rocket; that's where they found +me before I came to."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Phillips.</p> + +<p>"I'm not half as hard as I'm trying +to pretend," Donna went on, "even +after a year on Luna. But I was a +nurse before I was married. I'm thinking +about what it will be like if this +plague hits the planets before they +find something to fight it with. The +children ... imagine that, will you?"</p> + +<p>Phillips stared at the range indicator. +It seemed there were times when an +ugly thing had to be done for the +common good. He wondered how the +old-time executioners had felt, in the +days when there had been judicial +homicide. There were still jailers, for +that matter, and men who butchered +cattle.</p> + +<p>"Call it a mercy killing," murmured +Donna between pale lips. "Maybe you +think <i>that</i> isn't still done once in a +while, in spite of modern society."</p> + +<p>"Ummh," Phillips grunted. "Well, if +you can watch at this end, Truesdale +and I can go set up a couple of torpedoes. +I hope those rocket blasts +didn't give us away."</p> + +<p>"According to Varret," said Truesdale, +"there can't be many of them +still able to think straight enough to +stand on watch. I wonder what it's +like...."</p> + +<p>Phillips glanced askance at him, but +led the way into the corridor. First of +all, he stopped at the rocket room to +check the tube readings. The fired jets +had been automatically recharged.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">They left the rocket</span> +room and climbed the ladder +to the turret. Once inside, Phillips +spent the first few minutes inspecting +the equipment and thumbing through +the manuals left there by Varret. Finally, +the bored Truesdale broke in +upon his study.</p> + +<p>"That old goat must be crazy to +think he could toss us out here and +have us act like a trained crew. How +can we even hope to do anything right, +without blowing ourselves up?"</p> + +<p>"We can try," said Phillips coldly. +"It shouldn't be impossible to get one +started, at least."</p> + +<p>He found the twin control panels +in the bulkhead, and pulled a pair of +switches. There was a smooth humming +and a slight click as two hatches +in the deck slid open. Slanting metal +chutes rose out of the dark apertures, +just behind the conveyor belts.</p> + +<p>"Look at those babies!" breathed +Phillips.</p> + +<p>The snouts of two miniature spaceships +protruded from the storage hold. +Phillips touched other switches, and +the sleek missiles were prodded onto +the belts and moved forward until the +full, twenty-foot lengths were in view.</p> + +<p>"Phillips, you better be careful with +those things!" quavered Truesdale as +the engineer unscrewed a small hatch +on one.</p> + +<p>"Afraid I'll blow it up?" asked Phillips, +peering inside.</p> + +<p>"Why not? You never touched one +before."</p> + +<p>"You go ahead and believe that," +retorted the engineer. "Now, I'll just +turn on the radio controls, check the +batteries, and feed the bad news into +the launching tubes. Watch!"</p> + +<p>Replacing the hatch and securing +it, he thought out the procedure to use +at the remote control panels. Turning +on the screen above one of them produced +a cross-haired image of the bulkhead +directly in front of the near torpedo. +He tried various manipulations +until he had focused the view and +caused it to sweep all around the interior +of the turret. After idly watching +himself and Truesdale appear on +the screen, he returned the view to +dead ahead, switched it off, and turned +to the other panel.</p> + +<p>"I guess I can finish checking," he +said.</p> + +<p>Truesdale clambered hastily down +the ladder. Phillips shook his head. +"Don't know what use he'll be," he +muttered. "Too bad Brecken wouldn't +listen. He at least ... oh, well!"</p> + +<p>He wondered whether he himself +would stand up when the time came. +What Varret had asked did not sound +like much. Just a quick shot and +watch them blow apart. What inhibitions +made men black out rather than +carry it through? It was not as if +there were any hope for these people. +Surely, it was obvious that to permit +them, in their deranged state, to spread +a catastrophic plague was inconceivable. +But perhaps emotions were +stronger than reason.</p> + +<p>"I'll find out pretty soon," he reflected.</p> + +<p>There was little more to do in the +turret, except to run the torpedoes +into the launching tubes and bring up +a new pair in reserve. With that much +done, he closed the hatch and climbed +down the ladder.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">In the control room, he</span> +found Donna and Truesdale +peering into the screen. He crowded +close to look over their shoulders. A +small blob of light floated near the +center of the view. "That it?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Donna. "Just +enough Mars-light to show it."</p> + +<p>"How near are we?" asked Phillips.</p> + +<p>"About a hundred and fifty miles. +I have quite a large magnification, but +they may spot us if they're alert. Are +you ready to ... do something?"</p> + +<p>"Reasonably," said Phillips. +"Where's Brecken?"</p> + +<p>"You probably <i>killed</i> him!" Truesdale +broke in accusingly.</p> + +<p>"I found a first-aid kit and gave +him a shot," said Donna. "He has a +nasty lump on the head, but he might +sleep it off."</p> + +<p>Phillips was watching Truesdale. +The youth was visibly nervous. Was +it the thought of Brecken, the engineer +wondered, or fear of what they were +planning to do? Perhaps it would be +best to clear the air now, before it was +too late.</p> + +<p>"I guess you can handle it here, +Donna," he said. "Truesdale and I will +go to the turret and stand by."</p> + +<p>The youth shrank away. "No! I +won't go up there again! You can't +make me do this!"</p> + +<p>"Do what?" demanded Phillips.</p> + +<p>"It's <i>murder</i>! You both know it is! +They won't even have any warning."</p> + +<p>"I <i>hope</i> not," said Phillips drily. +"They might get <i>us</i>!"</p> + +<p>"You <i>would</i> put it that way," +sneered Truesdale; "you're homicidal +at heart anyway!" He turned on +Donna, wiping perspiration from his +forehead. "Are you going to let him +do it?" he shrilled. "Are you going to +help him commit such a crime?"</p> + +<p>The girl stared at him with a worried +look in her blue eyes but said +nothing.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Truesdale," said Phillips, +making an effort at a peaceful, +persuasive tone. "It will be either +their lives or ours if they spot us—and +millions more if they get by. +They'll be too desperate to think of +us. Do you want to die?"</p> + +<p>The instant he spoke the last words, +he remembered the other's record and +wished he had kept quiet. He saw, a +strange, wild expression creep over +Truesdale's features. It changed into +a look of hateful cunning as the youth, +began to sidle toward the door.</p> + +<p>"<i>I'm</i> not afraid to die!" he boasted +in a low-pitched but tense voice. "But +how about you, Phillips? How about +the big, brutal space engineer who is +proud of smashing men's skulls against +steel walls, who would like nothing +better than to blow up a shipload of +innocent people. How do you really +know they're dangerous? But you +don't care, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Truesdale!" snapped Phillips. +"Calm down!"</p> + +<p>"I'll calm you down with me!" +shouted the other hysterically. "I'll +<i>show</i> you who's afraid to die!"</p> + +<p>He ducked through the door toward +which he had been backing. Phillips +lunged after him, just barely missing +a grip.</p> + +<p>"On your toes!" he shouted over +his shoulder to Donna, and turned on +all jets.</p> + +<p>But Truesdale, driven by his peculiar +fury, not only stayed ahead as +they raced along the corridor, but actually +gained.</p> + +<p>He was fifteen or twenty feet out +in front as they reached the midway +point. Phillips, expecting him to take +refuge in the rocket room, was completely +fooled when Truesdale leaped +for the ladder in the vertical well. He +stumbled, and grabbed a handrail to +stop himself. The other was swarming +upward. Phillips sprang to follow.</p> + +<p>Hardly had he climbed half a dozen +rungs, however, than he saw he was +outdistanced. Truesdale's feet were already +disappearing beyond the hatchway. +Phillips waited for the airtight +door to slam shut. It remained open....</p> + +<p>Then a thrill of instinctive fear shot +through him as he thought of what +Truesdale might do—probably was +<i>doing</i> at that very instant!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 190px;"> +<img src="images/004.png" width="190" height="86" alt="2" title="2" /> +</div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Throwing</span> his feet clear of the +rungs, he plunged back toward +the deck, guided only by his +hands brushing the sides of the ladder. +As Phillips reached the junction +of the passages, he kicked desperately +away from the ladder. He landed with +a thump that would have hurt had he +been in a calmer state.</p> + +<p>Rolling over toward the control +room, he came to his feet in time to +glimpse Donna looking out the doorway +before a jarring shock floored +him again.</p> + +<p>The deafening roar of an explosion +resounded in the corridor as a brilliant +light was luridly reflected from somewhere +behind him. The bewildering +force hurled him at the deck; he saw +he could not prevent his head from +striking—</p> + +<p>Phillips found himself on hands and +knees, staring stupidly at the deck a +few inches past his nose. As in a nightmare, +he seemed to spend an eternity +pushing himself painfully to his feet. +Clutching a handrail, he finally made +it.</p> + +<p>He saw Donna kneeling in the doorway, +hand to head. As he watched, the +girl looked at her hand, and dazedly +pulled out a handkerchief to wipe off +the blood.</p> + +<p>Then Phillips became aware of a +high breeze in his face. Behind him, +the sound of rushing air rose to a +moan, then to a shriek. That shocked +him to his senses.</p> + +<p>"<i>Button up!</i>" he screamed above +the noise, bringing his hands together +in an urgent gesture understood by all +spacemen.</p> + +<p>As the girl staggered to her feet, +he whirled and leaped toward the junction +of the cross corridors. He wasted +no time in a vain glance upwards—he +knew what Truesdale had done. Only +setting off the torpedoes' rockets in +the enclosed turret compartment would +have caused an explosion just severe +enough to rupture the ship's skin; if +the warheads had gone off, he never +would have known it.</p> + +<p>Diving headlong through the opening +in the deck, he experienced a dizzying +shift of gravity as he passed +through the plane of the main deck. +When he had his bearings again, he +scrambled "up" the ladder toward the +belly turret. By the time he got the +airtight hatch open, he was beginning +to pant in the thinning air. He pulled +himself through at last, and sealed the +compartment.</p> + +<p>Phillips sucked in a deep, luxurious +breath while he glanced about. This +turret, he saw, was a duplicate of the +other. He immediately located the intercom +screen and called the control +room. Donna's worried face appeared. +"Where are you?" was her relieved +inquiry.</p> + +<p>Phillips explained what had happened. +"The only thing," he concluded, +"is to try it from here."</p> + +<p>"I think they must have spotted +the flash," Donna told him. "The instruments +show a shift in their +course."</p> + +<p>"Blast right at them!" said Phillips. +"We might get away with it if +we're quick."</p> + +<p>He turned away, leaving the intercom +on. A few quick steps took him +to the control panels in the bulkhead. +Guided by his lessons in the other +turret, and by faded memories of space +school on Earth, he brought up two +of the torpedoes. He checked the radio +controls and ran the missiles into their +launching tubes. As he worked, with +nervous sweat running down into his +eyes, he was aware of the intermittent +jar of rocket blasts.</p> + +<p>"Run 'em down!" he muttered, trying +to steady his hand on the controls.</p> + +<p>He had a hand at each panel, with +the torpedoes poised viciously in the +tubes, when he heard Donna's shout, +shrill with excitement, over the intercom.</p> + +<p>Instantly, he launched the missiles. +He started the rockets by remote control, +and scanned the screens for a +sight of the other vessel.</p> + +<p>For a moment, his view was confused +by the expanding puff of air; +then that froze, and drifted back to +the hull, and he could see the stars.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Donna's voice, strained</span> +but coldly controlled, came +over the intercom with readings from +her instruments. He corrected his +courses accordingly.</p> + +<p>Then he saw the image of their +target centered on one screen, so he +concentrated on steering the other +missile. He made the nose yaw, but +was unable to locate anything on its +screen.</p> + +<p>"You're sending one of them too far +above, I think," Donna reported.</p> + +<p>"I have something wrong," he shouted. +"I can't spot them at all for that +one. The jets must be out of line and +shooting it in a curve."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he fired a corrective +blast on the weight of the guess, before +returning his attention to the first +torpedo.</p> + +<p>This one was right on the curve. He +could see the massive hull of the +cruiser plainly now. It was almost featureless +until, as he watched, several +sections seemed to slide aside.</p> + +<p>The screen showed him a momentary +glimpse of a swarm of small, +flame-tailed objects spewing forth +from one of the openings. Then the +view went dark. "Interceptor rockets +with proximity fuses," he muttered. +"They'll be after us next, crazy-mean +and frantic!"</p> + +<p>Over the intercom, he heard Donna +exclaim in dismay. He caught a fleeting +sight of her face and realized that +the situation must be torture for the +girl, as for himself or any normal person +of their civilization.</p> + +<p>Cursing himself for an optimist, he +raised two more of the missiles from +the magazine. Hopping about like a +jet-checker five minutes before take-off +time, he made them ready. It +seemed like hours before he got them +into the launching tubes and blew +them out into the void.</p> + +<p>Again, he watched the other vessel +appear ahead of his torpedoes, this +time on both screens. Before the gap +narrowed, he had a better opportunity +to see the defenses of the cruiser in +action.</p> + +<p>A whitish cloud of gas was expelled +from his target's hull, bearing a myriad +of small objects which promptly +acquired a life of their own. Both +screens were filled with flashing, diverging +trails of flame. Then—nothing.</p> + +<p>"They're heading at us!" called +Donna. "Hang on!"</p> + +<p>Phillips had already pulled the +switches to bring up a new pair of +torpedoes. Hearing the urgency in +Donna's tone, he leaped toward a +rack of spacesuits and grabbed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The next instant, he</span> +was pinned forcibly against the +rack by acceleration, as Donna made +the ship dodge aside. From one side, +he heard a screech of grating metal. +The fresh missiles must have jammed +halfway out of the storage compartment.</p> + +<p>It gave him a weird feeling of unreality; +as he hung there helplessly, +to see one of the screens on the bulkhead +pick up something moving, +gleaming, metallic.</p> + +<p>"Donna!" he shouted hoarsely. "Let +up!"</p> + +<p>"I don't dare," she gasped over the +intercom. "I lost them, but they were +starting after us!"</p> + +<p>"Let up!" repeated Phillips. +"They're dead ahead of that wild shot +of ours. Let me get to the controls!"</p> + +<p>He dropped abruptly to the deck as +the acceleration vanished. One leap +carried him to the radio controls.</p> + +<p>The metallic gleam had swelled into +a huge spaceship. The cruiser was +angling slightly away from the point +from which he seemed to be viewing +it. How soon, he wondered, would +they detect the presence of his torpedo? +Or would they neglect this direction, +being intent upon the destruction +of those who were attempting to +frustrate their mad dash for Mars?</p> + +<p>Phillips stood before the screen, +clenching his fists. There was, after +all, nothing for him to do but watch. +The gleaming hull expanded with a +swelling rush. Details of construction, +hitherto invisible, leaped out at him. +A crack finally appeared as a section +began to slide back.</p> + +<p>This time, however, there was no +blinding flare of small rockets. The +blacking out of the screen coincided +with Donna's scream. "<i>It hit!</i>"</p> + +<p>In the silence that followed, he +thought he heard a sob.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Phillips," she said, recovering, +"we did it. They're—"</p> + +<p>"Hang on," said Phillips. "I'll climb +into a spacesuit and come forward."</p> + +<p>He switched off the intercom and +dragged a suit from the rack. It took +him a good fifteen minutes to get the +helmet screwed on properly and to +check everything else. He realized that +he was very tired.</p> + +<p>He opened the exit hatch, seized +the top of the ladder in his gauntlets +as the air exploded out of the turret, +and climbed back to the main deck.</p> + +<p>Clumping forward through the airless +corridor, he stopped to look into +the compartment where he had left +Brecken. He quickly slid the door shut +again.</p> + +<p>He found that Donna had sealed +off the corridor just short of the control +room by closing a double emergency +door that must have been designed +to form an airlock in just such +a situation. He hammered upon it, and +she slid it open from the control desk.</p> + +<p>It closed again behind him, and he +entered the control room through the +usual door. The girl helped him to +remove the suit and motioned him toward +the screen.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Phillips regarded the</span> +scene without enthusiasm. The +sight of the dead man had reminded +him of what the compartments of that +other vessel must look like by now. +Its parts were beginning to scatter +slowly.</p> + +<p>He looked at Donna, and found her +regarding him soberly. "What will +they do with us now?" she asked.</p> + +<p>She looked exhausted. He extended +an arm, and she leaned against him. +"You heard what Varret said," he told +her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but will he keep his word? +They might be ... ashamed of us, now +that it's done. Even if they're not, I +can't bear the thought of going back +to Earth and having them stare at +me!"</p> + +<p>Phillips nodded. He remembered the +morbid curiosity during his own trial, +the crowds who had watched him with +a kind of shrinking horror—and he +had actually been responsible for saving +a spaceship and its crew, had they +cared to look on that side of the affair.</p> + +<p>But he had killed. That was no +longer the action of a normal human +being, according to popular thinking.</p> + +<p>"I guess you and I are the only +ones who will understand one another +from now on," he shrugged.</p> + +<p>Donna smiled faintly, just as the +signal sounded on the communication +screen.</p> + +<p>It was Varret, looking pale and +strained. He listened to Phillips' account, +including the deaths of Truesdale +and Brecken, and apologized for +his appearance. He had, he informed +them, been unpleasantly ill when he +had seen the explosion. "It was a terrible +thing," Varret continued sadly, +"but necessary. They were beyond +reasoning with, and a deadly menace."</p> + +<p>He pulled himself together and tried +to hide his agitation by reminding +them of his promise. He suggested +that they consider their requests while +his ship attempted to tow them in to +Deimos.</p> + +<p>Phillips glanced speculatively at +Donna. They would be two outcasts, +however much their deed might be +respected abstractly, however much official +expressions of gratitude were +employed to gloss over the fact. He +might as well take one chance more. +"We have already decided," he said +boldly. "I hear you are building a new +space station on Deimos."</p> + +<p>The old man nodded, surprised.</p> + +<p>"We will ask for a deed to that +moon, and a contract to operate the +beacon and radio relay station," Phillips +stated flatly.</p> + +<p>Varret blinked, then smiled slightly +in a sort of understanding admiration.</p> + +<p>"Reasonable and astute," he murmured +after a moment's hesitation. +"I think I appreciate the motive. Perhaps, +if that ship can be repaired and +remodeled, we can include it so that +you may make short visits to Mars."</p> + +<p>He warned them to watch for the +emergency crew he would send to their +aid, and switched off.</p> + +<p>Phillips then dared finally to turn +and look inquiringly at Donna. Her +smile was relaxed for the first time +since they had met. "Nice bargaining," +she said, and Phillips felt like +the king of something larger than a +tiny Martian satellite.</p> + + + + +<div class="trans1"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b><br /> +This etext was produced from <i>Future combined with Science Fiction +Stories</i> September 1951. 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.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's This World Must Die!, by Horace Brown Fyfe + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THIS WORLD MUST DIE! *** + +***** This file should be named 23102-h.htm or 23102-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/0/23102/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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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