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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/23159-h.zip b/23159-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a190041 --- /dev/null +++ b/23159-h.zip diff --git a/23159-h/23159-h.htm b/23159-h/23159-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..07612a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/23159-h/23159-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1214 @@ +<!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 Stairway to the Stars, by Larry Shaw. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + a {text-decoration:none; color:blue;} + a:visited {color:gray;} + body {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;} + h1,h3 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + h3 {margin:0 auto 0 auto;} + hr {width:65%; margin:2em auto 2em auto; clear:both; text-align:center;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + hr.minor {width: 45%; margin:1em auto 1em auto; clear:both;} + ins.corr {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + p {margin-top:.75em; text-align:justify; margin-bottom:.75em; text-indent:1.5em;} + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + img {border: solid black 1px; padding:1px;} + .b {font-weight:bold;} + .bbox {border:solid 1px; padding:1em; margin:2em 10% 2em 10%;} + .blurb {padding:1em 1em 1em 1em; margin:auto 20% auto 20%; border:6px ridge gray; font-family:sans-serif;} + .figcenter {margin:auto; text-align:center;} + .mt2 {margin-top:2em;} + .pagenum {position:absolute; left:95%; font-style:normal; font-size:smaller; text-align:right; text-indent:0;} + .sf75 {font-size:75%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Stairway to the Stars, by Larry Shaw + +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: Stairway to the Stars + +Author: Larry Shaw + +Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23159] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAIRWAY TO THE STARS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter mt2" style="width: 352px;"> +<img src="images/illus-cover.jpg" width="352" height="500" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></p> + +<div class='blurb mt2'> +<p>Yes, Earth may be a sort of fenced-off area, so far as other +intelligent races of the galaxy are concerned. But not for the +grandiose reasons that some have imagined....</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter mt2" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus-titlepage.png" width="600" height="236" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h1>STAIRWAY TO THE STARS<br /> +<span class='sf75'>By Larry Shaw</span></h1> + +<blockquote><p class='noin'>It was a stairway leading down, but it also led out into +space—indirectly. And the situation had the aspects of a burlesque +on Grand Hotel, but.... </p></blockquote> + +<p>John Andrew Farmer scowled at the octopus that sprawled on his +living-room couch, rubbed his stubbly jaw with a stubby fist, and said, +“I love you.”</p> + +<p>Farmer was uncomfortable. He was almost always uncomfortable, for +various reasons; though it rarely if ever occurred to him, as he +considered each individual irritant, that this was his normal state of +existence. Right now he was acutely conscious of how ridiculous it must +look for him to be making love to an octopus, but he was even more +conscious of the very real pains of unrequited love.</p> + +<p>It wasn’t even a respectable, ordinary-looking octopus. To be +accurate, it would have to be called a nonapus; each of the nine +tentacles had a lobsterish claw at its tip, and there were various other +unusual appendages. It would be hard enough to explain an earthly +octopus in his living-room if the necessity arose, Farmer reflected for +the teenteenth time—but how in the name of Neptune could he ever +explain <i>this</i>?</p> + +<p>It had all started with Judge Ray. Ray had not been a real judge, +obviously, but had used the title in lieu of any other first name. That +was the first of the inexplicable things; Farmer would have expected the +odd little old man to call himself a professor of something or other. +But Ray insisted on Judge.</p> + +<p>Ray had come to the office of the <i>Stein, Fine, Bryans Publishing Co.</i>, +where Farmer was working as an assistant editor, and announced that he +was about to write the greatest book <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>of the age. And yes, he wanted an +advance against royalties—it didn’t have to be large; Ray lived +simply—to tide him over while doing the actual writing, which +shouldn’t take more than a very few weeks.</p> + +<p>Now, Farmer wasn’t much of an editor, even as editors go. The one +useful quality he had was a homespun, ingratiating air which put nervous +young geniuses at their ease, so that they could give a reasonably +coherent verbal picture of what their books were about. This often saved +Stein, Fine & Bryans a lot of reading of unpublishable manuscripts. At +least, that had been the theory when they gave Farmer the job; as it +worked out, John Andrew was a person who found it virtually impossible +to say “no”; he generally took the manuscripts in hand and, +when he couldn’t stick some other member of the firm with the +task, read them himself until the wee hours.</p> + +<p>Farmer was not able to say no to Ray, but even he looked dubious at the +small gray fellow’s voluble outpouring of pseudo-scientific +jargon. Ray, made sensitive by years of open skepticism on the part of +many listeners, caught the look and insisted on a demonstration of his +fabulous invention.</p> + +<p>So the oddly assorted pair—quick, foxlike little Ray and big, awkward, +uncomfortable Farmer—sputtered out into Long Island Sound in an +indescribable old motor launch, and the adventure was on.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Finally Ray shut off the racketing engine and let out the rusty anchor. +He opened a large wooden case, which showed evidence of some really good +cabinet-work, and took out a peculiar machine, which showed evidence of +unarguably excellent machining. These details were the first things that +made Farmer think Ray might not be a complete crackpot, after all. If he +hadn’t been feeling just the slightest touch of seasickness, John +Andrew would have breathed a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>Ray polished off the somewhat rabbit-from-hatty routine by bringing out +a portable television set, connecting it to the boat’s electrical +generator, and stringing an assortment of wires between it and his +invention. He would not allow Farmer very close to the latter, but to +the editor’s untechnical eye it looked like a fairly ordinary +radio set, with more than enough dials and switches added to it to +furnish the dashboards of several Rolls Royces.</p> + +<p>Ray held up a hand—purely for drama, since there was silence already. +“This is a great moment in the course of human history,” he +said. “You are about to witness the first demonstration of +Ray’s Ray, the work of genius which will allow mankind his first +really close contact with the last remaining frontier on his home +planet—the bottom of the sea!”</p> + +<p>Farmer looked impressed, then began to realize what some of this meant. +He caught himself, straightened out his face, and licked his lips. +“You mean you’ve never tried the thing before?” he +protested. “How do you know it will work?”</p> + +<p>Ray’s glance took on a touch of icy fury. The launch rocked gently +in the swell for a long, silent minute, and Farmer began to feel +slightly afraid. Was he alone, in a spot like this, with a madman? The +salty breeze turned colder.</p> + +<p>Then Ray smiled—a smile that was surprisingly soft and sweet. John +Andrew reached two decisions: that he was safe, and that he liked the +“Judge.” (One of Farmer’s weaknesses, in fact, was +that—though thoroughly masculine himself—he completely distrusted +women, and was too trusting with men.)</p> + +<p>“I could go into theories and scientific details,” Ray said; +“I could explain principles of operation and the construction of +the machine for hours. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>But you would be bored, and wouldn’t +understand anyway. It is sufficient to say that the Ray will work +because—I invented it!”</p> + +<p>Farmer caught himself nodding, and blamed the boat’s motion. He +shifted uneasily on the built-in seat, and got a splinter in a vital +spot. He frowned.</p> + +<p>Ray was bending over his machine, making motions designed to impress as +well as to make it work. “In very simple terms,” he was +saying, “this is a combination of color television and +super-radar. It will bring in a perfect color picture of the ocean at +whatever depth I set it for, or will set itself automatically to present +a view of the ocean floor. It will....”</p> + +<p>His voice trailed off. The machine hissed, snapped, and crackled. The +television set flickered, hummed, gave out a flashing dance of +surrealistic doodles, and abruptly presented a picture. It was a picture +of Milton Berle.</p> + +<p>Ray looked mad, started to aim a kick at the screen but thought better +of it. A small wave almost made him sit down on the deck before he got +both feet planted again. He swore and started to check the wiring.</p> + +<p>“Maybe there’s something wrong inside the dingus +itself,” John Andrew suggested tentatively.</p> + +<p>Ray turned on him with a look that would have seared the Sphinx. +“There’s <i>nothing</i> wrong with the machine!” he said, +almost-but-not-quite shouting. “There’s <i>nothing</i> wrong with +the television! There’s <i>nothing</i> wrong with the wiring! There +<i>must</i> be something wrong at the other end—where the Ray is focussed! +And I intend to find out!”</p> + +<p>Farmer pondered the idea of a transmitter that worked under water like a +ball-point pen, broadcasting weary vaudeville routines. He scratched his +head and looked wistfully at the New England shoreline—or was that Long +Island? He wasn’t sure any more....</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>A clank and clatter brought his attention to the launch. He gawked; Ray +had thrown back a deck hatch and produced a diving suit which looked as +un-shipshape as the rest of the boat’s equipment.</p> + +<p>Ray looked it over hastily, then turned a speculative glance on Farmer. +He shook his head. “Too small for you,” he murmured. +“You wouldn’t know what to look for anyway; I’ll have +to go down myself.”</p> + +<p>Farmer changed his mind again about Ray’s being cracked. +“Listen.” He said the first thing that came to mind. +“Didn’t you say you rented this boat for the first time +today? How do you know that thing doesn’t leak?”</p> + +<p>Ray smiled again, as he climbed briskly into the suit. “I’ll +be all right,” he said serenely. “You just keep an eye on +things here—but don’t touch anything. I’ll be right +back....” He settled the helmet on his head, motioned for Farmer +to help him check the connections of the suit’s self-contained +oxygen supply.</p> + +<p>John Andrew was straightening up from doing this when he saw the nonapus +for the first time. It was climbing over the rail at the stern, and +already beginning to make a puddle on the deck. Farmer froze, and gulped +wordlessly.</p> + +<p>Behind the barred faceplate, Ray looked puzzled, then annoyed. From the +corner of his eye, Farmer could see Milton Berle still cavorting +silently on the television screen, and this seemed to add the final +touch of insanity to the scene. Farmer finally succeeded in pointing, +and Ray clumped slowly in a half-circle, just as the nonapus dropped to +the deck with a plank-shivering thump.</p> + +<p>The scene assumed some of the aspects of a bad movie comedy. The +background was an out-of-focus blur, although Farmer was dimly conscious +of motion in it somewhere—something else breaking the surface of the +water as it emerged. In the foreground, the boat and its occupants were +sharply etched, but seemed to have gone into slow motion. </p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>The nonapus crept forward ponderously, and Farmer searched dazedly for a +weapon. It was Ray who first started stumbling in the direction of the +boathook, but John Andrew, in a sudden fit of bravery, shoved past him +and grabbed the fragile-looking thing from its cleats.</p> + +<p>He swung to face the monster with a sick feeling in his stomach, and got +another surprise. The thing had stopped moving. Straddling the rail +behind it, and similarly dripping, was a—<i>migawd</i>!</p> + +<p>It—he—looked almost like a man, but that only made the difference +worse. The details resolved as Farmer stared at him. The oddness about +head and shoulders became finny crests; what had looked at first like a +red skin-tight costume became a scaly hide. Farmer realized with a shock +that the creature wasn’t wearing anything.</p> + +<p>Farmer crouched. The point of the boathook wavered, aimed first at the +nonapus, then at the fishman. To the editor, both were alien—but he +couldn’t decide which one was more dangerous. For a long moment, +neither of them advanced, and he wondered if they could really be +frightened of his puny weapon.</p> + +<p>He doubted it. He was beginning to notice, among other things, that the +nonapus was more fearsome than it had seemed at first—in addition to +nine tentacles, claws, fangs and antenna became apparent. So did the big +glassy-red disks of the eyes—and Farmer aimed the point of the hook at +one of them, started to thrust.</p> + +<p>It was wrenched from his hands and forced downward to stick quivering in +the deck. The development took Farmer completely unawares. Neither of +the aliens had moved; it was Judge Ray who had disarmed him.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Judge Ray was now frantically trying to remove his diving helmet again. +Excitement made his motions ineffective, and he signaled for Farmer to +help him, then continued to fumble with the fastenings himself. John +Andrew turned, feeling completely doomed, to aid the man, and they +started getting in each other’s way and slowing down the operation +even more.</p> + +<p>They finally succeeded, though; the helmet swung back, and Ray promptly +shoved Farmer aside. Some of Farmer’s fear gave way to amazement +at the little inventor’s audacity and what seemed to Farmer at +least to be foolishly optimistic scientific detachment.</p> + +<p>Ray said: “My name is Ray. It is indeed fortunate that you have +met me immediately upon your arrival here, since I am the world’s +greatest genius, and thoroughly equipped to tell you anything you wish +to know about my people and civilization. I take it you come from +Atlantis?”</p> + +<p>Amazingly, his tongue only got tangled once in the middle of this +speech, and he regained control of it quickly then. John Andrew felt a +touch of jealousy at the little man’s capability in assuming +control of the situation. That, and a sudden idea of his own, forced him +to speak for himself.</p> + +<p>It was a sad attempt. “Venus.... Spaceship....” he managed +to croak, before giving it up.</p> + +<p>The launch rocked gently. The nonapus crouched motionless; the fishman +stood firmly, as if untouched by anything around him, his arms folded +and a faint smile upon his damp lips.</p> + +<p>Finally he spoke too. What he said was: “Venus. Spaceship. My name +is Ray. It is indeed fortunate that you have met me immediately upon +your arrival here, since I am the world’s greatest +genius....”</p> + +<p>He broke off. Apparently he interpreted the looks of consternation on +the faces of his audience correctly, for his smile became more friendly +and he continued in a casual tone.</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” he said. “I didn’t speak your +language before I arrived here, and I had to learn it and become +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>accustomed to its use through analyzing what you just said. I really +didn’t mean to puzzle you or make you feel inferior by mimicking +you.”</p> + +<p>Farmer’s mind worked chaotically. This was puzzling, he decided, +and <i>did</i> make him feel inferior—that is, it did if the man in the red +scales had really picked up English so quickly. And if not, why lie?</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>The fishman came forward. His step was bouncy, as if he were used to a +higher gravity or greater pressure (<i>that</i>, Farmer complimented himself +on his cleverness, made sense at least), but he extended his hand and +said “Put ’er there!” like any ladies’ wear +buyer at an annual convention. Ray and Farmer shook with him in turn. +His hand was damp and webbed, but felt fairly human for all that.</p> + +<p>“My name is Garf,” he said cheerfully. John Andrew tried not +to stare at him too noticeably, but Ray made no bones about it; +apparently the fishman thought nothing at all of his state of nudity. +Farmer shivered.</p> + +<p>It was Ray who brought the conversation back to earth—or sea—again. He +asked Garf, directly, exactly where he did come from.</p> + +<p>Garf looked hesitant, then waved the two to the rail with him. +“See those?” he asked. They looked, and saw what seemed to +be a flight of steps, carved from stone, old, and worn, starting +abruptly just below the water level and leading downward. There was +nothing on either side of the steps, or underneath them as far as could +be seen, but ordinary ocean. “I came up those,” Garf said.</p> + +<p>Farmer stared, and Ray stared. The stairway shouldn’t be there—it +certainly hadn’t been there before. Garf’s explanations, it +seemed, only compounded the confusion caused by his presence.</p> + +<p>Farmer, muddled, looked again at the nonapus, which had apparently gone +to sleep. Even so, it looked deadly.</p> + +<p>Something bit him on the arm. He discovered Ray’s fingers, in the +diving glove, digging into his flesh in an amazingly powerful grip. +Farmer hunched his shoulders, trying to break loose, and then he saw +what Ray was staring at.</p> + +<p>Garf had left them, and was strolling around the launch as if he had +just bought it—looking down his nose at it; at the same time, acting as +if he could afford not to give a damn how badly he’d been stung. +But the startling thing was that he had picked up the boathook and was +twirling it unconcernedly. He had not only picked it up, however—he had +also tied it in a knot.</p> + +<p>It should have splintered in his hands, assuming he was strong enough to +bend it at all. It hadn’t; it was in perfect shape, except for the +knot. Or so it seemed, at least, for even as Ray started forward with +outstretched hand, obviously hoping to examine the thing, Garf gave it a +final twirl and scaled it carelessly overboard.</p> + +<p>John Andrew began to feel quick-frozen again. Being alone at sea in a +rickety craft with a possible madman had been bad enough. To have a +weird creature with superhuman powers, and an impossible pet monster, +added to the crew was a little too much.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Garf turned his attention to the television set, which was still +presenting its hysterical vaudeville. “Great-uncle’s +gills!” he exclaimed, and lapsed into a fascinated silence. He +studied the proceedings carefully, holding the arms-crossed pose again. +Finally he turned to Ray.</p> + +<p>“Weren’t you saying something about civilization a while +ago, finless?” he asked. His voice was sneering.</p> + +<p>Ray frowned, and said something about mass-appeal. “Pay no +attention to <i>that</i>,” he continued. “Just listen to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span><i>me</i>. +I’ll tell you about our civilization, and our science, +and....”</p> + +<p>His voice broke off as if he had been struck in the face. In a way, he +had; Garf had deliberately turned his back on the old fellow. The +Judge’s bloodshot little eyes darted about as if he wanted to pick +up something heavy and hit Garf on the crest with it.</p> + +<p>John Andrew’s brain had finally resumed normal operations; he was +thinking slowly, but clearly. He examined the evidence with care. He +decided that Garf’s superior attitude and powers boded no good; +that if the fishman once became slightly irritated he would sic the +nonapus on Ray and himself. (Probably, in fact, Garf would try to +conquer the world anyway; that was how it went in stories as corny as +this situation.) Farmer further decided that Ray was too egocentrically +eccentric to be trusted to get them out of this fix; he decided +he’d have to do something himself.</p> + +<p>Having decided all this, Farmer went back over the territory to see if +he could find any flaws in it—or any other way out. It still made +sense, and he added a decision to get the boat back to shore as fast as +possible. He approached the engine.</p> + +<p>As he did so, the engine melted into a solid, irregular lump of metal. +John Andrew gulped, and put out a tentative hand toward the fused mess. +It was not particularly warm—but it had melted.</p> + +<p>Farmer looked at Garf again with fear and awe, and the fishman looked +back with cold amusement. But not for long. Garf turned to the +Judge’s invention—and started to show some genuine interest for +the first time since he had showed up.</p> + +<p>He stood over the thing, webbed hands on scaly hips, peering at it +intently. After a long silence, he knelt, and started feeling over the +machine with his webbed hands. Finally he placed his fingers on the +largest of the control switches—then changed his mind and gestured +imperatively to Judge Ray.</p> + +<p>“You—the ‘intelligent’ one,” he said. The +quotes around ‘intelligent’ were clear in his intonation. +“Explain this to me. It’s obviously what reactivated the +gate—but whoever made it did a screwball job. There are all sorts of +things that don’t seem to belong, and even the parts that should +be there seem wrong, somehow....”</p> + +<p>He paused. “Of course,” he added, smugly, “I’m +not a transportation expert. If I were, I’d have made my own +activator long ago, and done some visiting on the closed worlds before +this. Not that they’d have kept me from getting bored for long, +but yours looks as if it’s going to be slightly amusing, at +least.”</p> + +<p>A struggle showed in Ray’s face. Farmer saw insulted anger, hurt +pride, a desire to brag about his gadgetry, a question about +Garf’s last words, and a caution that was not too far from fear. +John Andrew had stopped trying to hide his own fear, and though he had +plenty of questions of his own, he was mainly concerned with looking for +a means of escape.</p> + +<p>Garf was rising again, looking impatient. Ray reached a decision, said +“Go to hell!” , and turned his back on the fishman. Garf +looked astonished, then angry, and raised a hand. Ray jumped, not very +far because of the heavy diving suit, stumbled on oddly twisted legs, +and collapsed on the deck, writhing, moaning, and turning red in the +face. The diving helmet clattered on the planks.</p> + +<p>Farmer got mad. He started to charge across the deck at Garf, but his +own feet went out from under him and he landed flat on his nose. There +were waves of fire chasing each other around his body, and his stomach +was trying to turn itself inside out.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>As instantaneously as it had come, the pain left him. It left him weak +and quivering, and John Andrew Farmer lay on his back <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>waiting for his +strength to seep back. As the red haze drifted from before his eyes, he +realized that the launch had acquired another occupant.</p> + +<p>In appearance, she could easily have been Garf’s sister—or his +wife. Her figure was lithe and nicely curved. Her scales stopped in +eye-catching points just above her distinctly mammalian bosom; from +there on up she looked almost completely human. She wasn’t wearing +anything either. The over-all effect was oddly beautiful. Farmer blushed +hotly, and tried to keep his eyes on her face.</p> + +<p>Not that it made any difference to her. She ignored everyone and +everything but the fishman. Glaring at him angrily, she snapped out his +name in an icy voice. “Garf!”</p> + +<p>“Dor!”</p> + +<p>Garf was a changed fishman; he looked faintly frightened, moderately +worried, and definitely embarrassed. This passed, and he started to +smile in a placating manner.</p> + +<p>“Garf!” Dor snapped again. She followed it up, this time, +with a string of intricate, foreign-sounding words that even Farmer +could tell were hot and stinging.</p> + +<p>The fishman backed away. He seemed to be growing angry himself now under +the whiplashing woman’s tongue. Finally he spoke, in English. He +called Dor a puddle-snake. That wasn’t all of what he said, by any +means; the name was preceded by several adjectives and followed by an +obscene command. Dor blanched slightly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes?” she said, her voice dripping danger. “I can +speak this language too, you know—I learned it years ago, before the +gate to this world was closed! And let me tell you something +else....”</p> + +<p>She told him something else. John Andrew blushed furiously again, and +covered his ears with his hands.</p> + +<p>Little Ray was on his feet, trying to get a word in edgewise, but not +succeeding at all. He too started to get angry. Farmer hauled himself +upright, hoping to approach Ray, calm him, and get him to figure a way +out of this madhouse.</p> + +<p>Garf yelled an expletive and gestured with his hand. A wave of pure heat +swept over the boat, blistering what paint it still boasted. The blow +had been directed at Dor, and she showed that she had absorbed most of +it by wilting visibly—but Farmer felt as much of it as he wanted. It +was as if a blast furnace had suddenly opened beside him; sweat popped +out on his brow and filmed his eyes. He wondered how uncomfortable he +could get.</p> + +<p>A deadly silence descended.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>John Andrew was wishing that he could swim when Dor smiled, and he began +to be interested in living again in spite of himself. The girl, he +thought, was somehow radiant—really lovely, in spite of her scales and +fins. It was peculiar; he’d never liked women at all, and had +certainly never thought he’d like a mermaid, but....</p> + +<p>Anyway, he decided, he wasn’t going to take sides if the two +aliens were going to fight it out. His first interest was in saving his +own hide; his second, in getting back to shore to give warning of the +invasion. As for Dor—John Andrew had lived this long without going to +the aid of a damsel in distress—without, in fact, ever seeing one that +he could remember, who wasn’t obviously more capable of helping +herself than he was. He wasn’t going to start rescuing fair +maidens now—even if she needed rescuing. Still, there was something +awfully attractive.... Damn, but he was confused!</p> + +<p>Dor’s smile didn’t really last that long; Farmer’s +thoughts were going fast now, somehow. He had finished those just +described before Dor said, “All right, Garf. Fun’s fun; now +let’s kiss and make up. After all, it’s illegal for us to be +here—not only our own cops, but the Galactic Federation, would be on +our necks if they knew. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>Let’s see if we can close up the gate +ourselves or if this needs to be reported. And then let’s go +home.”</p> + +<p>Garf grinned. “Whatever you say, my dear.” He dipped an +eyebrow in a wink. Behind Dor, the nonapus stirred sluggishly, extended +a tentacle, opened a claw, and nipped Dor neatly on the behind. She +screeched.</p> + +<p>There was an explosion in Farmer’s brain. This was too much—Garf +had gone too far! The burly editor plunged across the deck, swinging a +fist. To his surprise, Garf did nothing to stop him; probably, John +Andrew figured later, the fishman expected no further trouble from the +humans after the treatment they’d had.</p> + +<p>Farmer’s haymaker connected.</p> + +<p>Garf staggered across the deck until he brought up against the rail, +holding his jaw and shaking his head muzzily. Farmer braced himself for +retaliation, hoping it would be something less than a bolt of barbed +lightning. But Garf remained unpredictable. He mumbled something that +wasn’t “Oh the hell with it” but sounded like it, and +softly and silently slid overboard. He disappeared under water with +scarcely a ripple.</p> + +<p>“Good!” Dor said, briskly. “Now, I’ll just.... +Ah!” She strode directly to Ray’s invention, and Farmer +wondered why both the aliens were so interested in a gadget that +didn’t work.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Dor wasted no time. She bent over, picked up the machine, yanking wiring +loose carelessly, straightened up, turned a beaming smile on Farmer and +Ray, said “Goodbye,” and headed for the rail.</p> + +<p>Ray yelped. He started after her, but his progress in the diving suit +was waddling and slow. She reached the rail first and went over. Ray was +not too far behind, and he slammed his helmet down angrily as he reached +the rail. Farmer, galvanized belatedly, gave chase as well.</p> + +<p>Dor was picking her way slowly down the stone steps, the machine cradled +under her arm. Ray climbed up on the rail, poised there a second, then +attempted a swan dive. John Andrew yelled at him as he arced forward, +but it was too late. The old man dropped like a stone, flapping his +arms, bounced slightly on the top step, then slid forward down several +more steps on his faceplate.</p> + +<p>Dor hesitated, her head just above water. She looked at the limp, +diving-suited body beside her, then back at the launch and Farmer. +Again, she came to a decision quickly.</p> + +<p>Bending, leaving a trail of bubbles as her head went under, she set the +Judge’s invention down on a lower step and picked up the Judge +instead. Cradling him in her arms, she started back up again, calling to +Farmer to be ready to take her burden aboard.</p> + +<p>They got him on the boat with little difficulty, and John Andrew laid +him on the deck as Dor sprang lithely over the rail again, showing +interest in the little fellow’s condition. The diving helmet came +off easily, not having been properly fastened down at all. Farmer bent +anxiously over the Judge, looking for signs of life.</p> + +<p>The diving suit had shipped some water, and the Judge had gotten a nasty +crack on the head—but he was a tough bozo. There was no blood, his +breathing seemed almost normal, and he already showed signs of returning +consciousness.</p> + +<p>John Andrew turned to Dor. “Well, I should thank you for bringing +him back, I guess,” he muttered. “But now that you’re +with us again” —he shot out a big paw and grabbed her by the +wrist—“ how about explaining some of this?”</p> + +<p>He was very gentle with the wrist. He didn’t want to hurt her; he +was wondering already, in fact, what had made him get so rough at all. +But she didn’t seem to mind.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got to go quickly,” she told him. “I think +Garf will be all right now, but he may take a notion to come back. And I +have to see that the gate is closed before....”</p> + +<p>“What gate? Get back where?” <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>Farmer managed to put more +curiosity than impatience into his tone.</p> + +<p>“Back to my own planet—Tamdivar, sun Nogore, member of the +Galactic Federation,” she said patiently. “The gate is a +matter-transmitter between my world and yours. It was once in constant +use, but my government closed it when you people got to the point where +you were running around in submarines, using depth bombs, and just +noticing our aircraft too much.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Somehow, what popped into Farmer’s head was the chorus of an old +song he had sung in boy’s camp when very young. +“<i>There’s a hole in the bottom of the sea! There’s a +log in the hole....</i>”</p> + +<p>“Your machine reactivated the gate from this side, even if that +isn’t what you designed it to do,” Dor went on. +“It’s a good thing I noticed the gate was open. Of course, +the area <ins class='corr' title="Transcriber’s Note: The original +showed ‘effected’.">affected</ins> isn’t large—it includes +those steps and a lot of water around them.</p> + +<p>“The gate’ll stay open now until it’s closed from our +side—but I’ll have to take your outfit back and destroy it, +anyway. Our cops would be tough with you if they found you operating the +thing, and Federation Securitymen would be even tougher. Take it as a +warning: don’t do it again.”</p> + +<p>She turned to go, but Farmer held on. “What’s this about a +Galactic Federation? And if they’ve banned all communication with +Earth, why haven’t they just blasted the planet out of existence +and gotten rid of it? Of course, I know we’re thoroughly +uncivilized and too warlike for any other race to trust, and all that. I +can see how Earth might be considered the plague spot of the +universe....”</p> + +<p>Dor gawked, and saw that he was very serious. Then she threw back her +head and laughed a merry laugh. “Listen, friend,” she said +at last. “The only real trouble with you Earth people is that you +have a tremendous inferiority complex, collectively and individually—as +you’ve just illustrated. Get over that and you’ll eliminate +most of your trouble. As for the Federation, they let <i>us</i> in, and most +member-races have wars occasionally; they’ll undoubtedly accept +you, once you develop space travel.</p> + +<p>“Just at the moment, of course, you’re at a crossroads. You +could jump in either direction, blowing yourself up or taking the big +step into space. I think you’ll turn out okay, but not everybody +agrees—and the Federation can’t take even small chances. So you +can’t be allowed to set off your atom bombs, or worse, where they +might get through to another planet. We can’t actually interfere +with you, so we’ve closed the gates; that’s all.”</p> + +<p>John Andrew, thinking it over, said “Oh,” and let go of her +wrist. She turned and went back to the rail again, after flashing him +the most de luxe smile so far. Farmer came out of a philosophic haze to +notice she was leaving. He said, “Hey!”</p> + +<p>She looked over her shoulder. Farmer didn’t know what to say, but +he wanted to delay her. Finally, he pointed to the nonapus, and said, +“What about that monster? You’re not going to leave it +here?”</p> + +<p>She laughed again. “Oh, the robot? It’ll follow me. +It’s designed to.... Oh damn!”</p> + +<p>The damn was for something she saw in the water as she looked back over +the rail again. John Andrew rushed to her side and looked as she got set +for a dive. Garf, he saw immediately, had returned, and was picking up +the Judge’s invention.</p> + +<p>“Put that down!” Dor’s yell was high-pitched. Garf +faced them, and Farmer could just make out his lazy, contemptuous smile +through the murky water. The fishman raised his arm in one of the +now-familiar gestures.</p> + +<p>The boat heaved, wallowed, and sank.</p> + +<p>Farmer thought desperately again that he couldn’t swim, and then +he thought wildly of the Judge, who hadn’t regained full +consciousness. He went under once, and came up choking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>and sputtering. +He decided his end had come—and he didn’t even know the identity +of the enemy who had done him in. It was ironic. He should have asked +Dor to tell him more about Garf—was he a traitor, or a Tamdivarian +gangster, or what? John Andrew gasped and started sinking again....</p> + +<p>To find himself hauled out of the water unceremoniously by the scruff of +his neck. As he rose, ropy tentacles twined about him, and he saw what +had saved him. He was being cradled, gently but firmly, by the nonapus, +which had Judge Ray in another set of tentacles. And the nonapus, it +became apparent, was not only a water-creature.</p> + +<p>It could also fly.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Garf paddled idly around Dor’s apartment, pretending interest in +the shell-paintings that decorated the walls. He had presented her a +bouquet in which rare blossoms hid slimy, smelly weeds, and she was sore +at him—again. As she finished her conversation and switched off the +two-way radio, he turned to her. “Dor,” he said softly.</p> + +<p>She looked at him haughtily. “Don’t speak to me!” she +said. “I told you you’d have to stop your irresponsible +practical joking and settle down. Some hard work wouldn’t hurt you +even if you did inherit a fortune. I don’t mind so much when you +pull these stunts on me, but when I think of how you practically drowned +those poor, defenseless Earth-creatures....”</p> + +<p>His mouth twisted. “Poor, defenseless Earth-creatures! How was I +to know they couldn’t swim? Just imagine—beings that live on a +world with almost as much water as ours, who can’t use their +natural abilities any more than that! It’s ridiculous. I never saw +such morons—the big, ugly one especially!”</p> + +<p>He had intended that to sting, and it did. Dor raised her nose another +notch. “I think he’s cute, and I’m learning he’s +pretty intelligent, too. He catches on fast to everything I tell him. He +and his little friend will have their spaceship finished soon now, +and....”</p> + +<p>“That’s another thing!” Garf snapped, keeping her on +the defensive. “Maybe I violated Security by going to Earth when +they accidentally opened the gate, but what are you doing? What would +the Fed say if they knew you were giving out information the Earthmen +hadn’t acquired by themselves—helping them get into space? What +about that?”</p> + +<p>Dor shrugged. “I’m not telling them anything, really. Just +dropping a few hints of the most elementary sort. Things they’d +have figured out soon anyway—and things they still have to work hard +<ins class='corr' title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘to to’.">to</ins> make practicable. Even if some of the +inventions they’ve worked out so far have enabled them to make +enough money to live on nicely—after all, those things are the merest +toys to us—what could it possibly matter?”</p> + +<p>Garf considered. This bickering was, as usual, getting them exactly +nowhere. He gave up. “All right, dear,” he said. “You +win; you’re right, of course, and I’m wrong. I only hope you +won’t bother so much with talking to that Earth-slug on the radio +after we’re married.”</p> + +<p>Dor laughed a tinkly laugh and came into his waiting arms. +“Darling,” she cooed. “What a thing to say. I actually +believe you’re jealous—and you know I only love you.”</p> + +<p>Which wasn’t strictly true. The big Earthman <i>was</i> cute, she +thought, and it was quaint of him to be in love with her, and to tell +her so every day over the radio built into the robot-nonapus. Of course, +he was inferior to her in every way, and she wouldn’t think of +marrying him or anything like that. But even his inferiority was +interesting, in a way.</p> + +<p>Yes, it was nice to know he loved her.</p> + +<p>And she loved him, too—like an amusing baby brother.</p> + +<hr /> +<div class='bbox'> +<h3>Transcriber’s Notes and Errata</h3> + +<p>This etext was produced from “Future combined with Science Fiction +stories” September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence +that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> + +<p>The following typographical errors were corrected:</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="1" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr class='b'><td align='left'>Page</td><td align='left'>Error</td><td align='left'>Correction</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>78</td><td align='left'>effected</td><td align='left'>affected</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>79</td><td align='left'>to to</td><td align='left'>to</td></tr> +</table></div> +</div> +<hr class='full' /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stairway to the Stars, by Larry Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAIRWAY TO THE STARS *** + +***** This file should be named 23159-h.htm or 23159-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/5/23159/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi 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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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: Stairway to the Stars + +Author: Larry Shaw + +Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23159] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAIRWAY TO THE STARS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +------------------------------------------------+ + | Yes, Earth may be a sort of fenced-off area, | + | so far as other intelligent races of the | + | galaxy are concerned. But not for the | + | grandiose reasons that some have imagined.... | + +------------------------------------------------+ + +[Illustration] + + + + +STAIRWAY TO THE STARS + +By Larry Shaw + + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + | It was a stairway leading down, but it also led out into | + | space--indirectly. And the situation had the aspects of a | + | burlesque on Grand Hotel, but.... | + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + +John Andrew Farmer scowled at the octopus that sprawled on his +living-room couch, rubbed his stubbly jaw with a stubby fist, and said, +"I love you." + +Farmer was uncomfortable. He was almost always uncomfortable, for +various reasons; though it rarely if ever occurred to him, as he +considered each individual irritant, that this was his normal state of +existence. Right now he was acutely conscious of how ridiculous it must +look for him to be making love to an octopus, but he was even more +conscious of the very real pains of unrequited love. + +It wasn't even a respectable, ordinary-looking octopus. To be accurate, +it would have to be called a nonapus; each of the nine tentacles had a +lobsterish claw at its tip, and there were various other unusual +appendages. It would be hard enough to explain an earthly octopus in his +living-room if the necessity arose, Farmer reflected for the teenteenth +time--but how in the name of Neptune could he ever explain _this_? + +It had all started with Judge Ray. Ray had not been a real judge, +obviously, but had used the title in lieu of any other first name. That +was the first of the inexplicable things; Farmer would have expected the +odd little old man to call himself a professor of something or other. +But Ray insisted on Judge. + +Ray had come to the office of the _Stein, Fine, Bryans Publishing Co._, +where Farmer was working as an assistant editor, and announced that he +was about to write the greatest book of the age. And yes, he wanted an +advance against royalties--it didn't have to be large; Ray lived +simply--to tide him over while doing the actual writing, which shouldn't +take more than a very few weeks. + +Now, Farmer wasn't much of an editor, even as editors go. The one useful +quality he had was a homespun, ingratiating air which put nervous young +geniuses at their ease, so that they could give a reasonably coherent +verbal picture of what their books were about. This often saved Stein, +Fine & Bryans a lot of reading of unpublishable manuscripts. At least, +that had been the theory when they gave Farmer the job; as it worked +out, John Andrew was a person who found it virtually impossible to say +"no"; he generally took the manuscripts in hand and, when he couldn't +stick some other member of the firm with the task, read them himself +until the wee hours. + +Farmer was not able to say no to Ray, but even he looked dubious at the +small gray fellow's voluble outpouring of pseudo-scientific jargon. Ray, +made sensitive by years of open skepticism on the part of many +listeners, caught the look and insisted on a demonstration of his +fabulous invention. + +So the oddly assorted pair--quick, foxlike little Ray and big, awkward, +uncomfortable Farmer--sputtered out into Long Island Sound in an +indescribable old motor launch, and the adventure was on. + + * * * * * + +Finally Ray shut off the racketing engine and let out the rusty anchor. +He opened a large wooden case, which showed evidence of some really good +cabinet-work, and took out a peculiar machine, which showed evidence of +unarguably excellent machining. These details were the first things that +made Farmer think Ray might not be a complete crackpot, after all. If he +hadn't been feeling just the slightest touch of seasickness, John Andrew +would have breathed a sigh of relief. + +Ray polished off the somewhat rabbit-from-hatty routine by bringing out +a portable television set, connecting it to the boat's electrical +generator, and stringing an assortment of wires between it and his +invention. He would not allow Farmer very close to the latter, but to +the editor's untechnical eye it looked like a fairly ordinary radio set, +with more than enough dials and switches added to it to furnish the +dashboards of several Rolls Royces. + +Ray held up a hand--purely for drama, since there was silence already. +"This is a great moment in the course of human history," he said. "You +are about to witness the first demonstration of Ray's Ray, the work of +genius which will allow mankind his first really close contact with the +last remaining frontier on his home planet--the bottom of the sea!" + +Farmer looked impressed, then began to realize what some of this meant. +He caught himself, straightened out his face, and licked his lips. "You +mean you've never tried the thing before?" he protested. "How do you +know it will work?" + +Ray's glance took on a touch of icy fury. The launch rocked gently in +the swell for a long, silent minute, and Farmer began to feel slightly +afraid. Was he alone, in a spot like this, with a madman? The salty +breeze turned colder. + +Then Ray smiled--a smile that was surprisingly soft and sweet. John +Andrew reached two decisions: that he was safe, and that he liked the +"Judge." (One of Farmer's weaknesses, in fact, was that--though +thoroughly masculine himself--he completely distrusted women, and was +too trusting with men.) + +"I could go into theories and scientific details," Ray said; "I could +explain principles of operation and the construction of the machine for +hours. But you would be bored, and wouldn't understand anyway. It is +sufficient to say that the Ray will work because--I invented it!" + +Farmer caught himself nodding, and blamed the boat's motion. He shifted +uneasily on the built-in seat, and got a splinter in a vital spot. He +frowned. + +Ray was bending over his machine, making motions designed to impress as +well as to make it work. "In very simple terms," he was saying, "this is +a combination of color television and super-radar. It will bring in a +perfect color picture of the ocean at whatever depth I set it for, or +will set itself automatically to present a view of the ocean floor. It +will...." + +His voice trailed off. The machine hissed, snapped, and crackled. The +television set flickered, hummed, gave out a flashing dance of +surrealistic doodles, and abruptly presented a picture. It was a picture +of Milton Berle. + +Ray looked mad, started to aim a kick at the screen but thought better +of it. A small wave almost made him sit down on the deck before he got +both feet planted again. He swore and started to check the wiring. + +"Maybe there's something wrong inside the dingus itself," John Andrew +suggested tentatively. + +Ray turned on him with a look that would have seared the Sphinx. +"There's _nothing_ wrong with the machine!" he said, +almost-but-not-quite shouting. "There's _nothing_ wrong with the +television! There's _nothing_ wrong with the wiring! There _must_ be +something wrong at the other end--where the Ray is focussed! And I +intend to find out!" + +Farmer pondered the idea of a transmitter that worked under water like a +ball-point pen, broadcasting weary vaudeville routines. He scratched his +head and looked wistfully at the New England shoreline--or was that Long +Island? He wasn't sure any more.... + + * * * * * + +A clank and clatter brought his attention to the launch. He gawked; Ray +had thrown back a deck hatch and produced a diving suit which looked as +un-shipshape as the rest of the boat's equipment. + +Ray looked it over hastily, then turned a speculative glance on Farmer. +He shook his head. "Too small for you," he murmured. "You wouldn't know +what to look for anyway; I'll have to go down myself." + +Farmer changed his mind again about Ray's being cracked. "Listen." He +said the first thing that came to mind. "Didn't you say you rented this +boat for the first time today? How do you know that thing doesn't leak?" + +Ray smiled again, as he climbed briskly into the suit. "I'll be all +right," he said serenely. "You just keep an eye on things here--but +don't touch anything. I'll be right back...." He settled the helmet on +his head, motioned for Farmer to help him check the connections of the +suit's self-contained oxygen supply. + +John Andrew was straightening up from doing this when he saw the nonapus +for the first time. It was climbing over the rail at the stern, and +already beginning to make a puddle on the deck. Farmer froze, and gulped +wordlessly. + +Behind the barred faceplate, Ray looked puzzled, then annoyed. From the +corner of his eye, Farmer could see Milton Berle still cavorting +silently on the television screen, and this seemed to add the final +touch of insanity to the scene. Farmer finally succeeded in pointing, +and Ray clumped slowly in a half-circle, just as the nonapus dropped to +the deck with a plank-shivering thump. + +The scene assumed some of the aspects of a bad movie comedy. The +background was an out-of-focus blur, although Farmer was dimly conscious +of motion in it somewhere--something else breaking the surface of the +water as it emerged. In the foreground, the boat and its occupants were +sharply etched, but seemed to have gone into slow motion. + +The nonapus crept forward ponderously, and Farmer searched dazedly for a +weapon. It was Ray who first started stumbling in the direction of the +boathook, but John Andrew, in a sudden fit of bravery, shoved past him +and grabbed the fragile-looking thing from its cleats. + +He swung to face the monster with a sick feeling in his stomach, and got +another surprise. The thing had stopped moving. Straddling the rail +behind it, and similarly dripping, was a--_migawd_! + +It--he--looked almost like a man, but that only made the difference +worse. The details resolved as Farmer stared at him. The oddness about +head and shoulders became finny crests; what had looked at first like a +red skin-tight costume became a scaly hide. Farmer realized with a shock +that the creature wasn't wearing anything. + +Farmer crouched. The point of the boathook wavered, aimed first at the +nonapus, then at the fishman. To the editor, both were alien--but he +couldn't decide which one was more dangerous. For a long moment, neither +of them advanced, and he wondered if they could really be frightened of +his puny weapon. + +He doubted it. He was beginning to notice, among other things, that the +nonapus was more fearsome than it had seemed at first--in addition to +nine tentacles, claws, fangs and antenna became apparent. So did the big +glassy-red disks of the eyes--and Farmer aimed the point of the hook at +one of them, started to thrust. + +It was wrenched from his hands and forced downward to stick quivering in +the deck. The development took Farmer completely unawares. Neither of +the aliens had moved; it was Judge Ray who had disarmed him. + + * * * * * + +Judge Ray was now frantically trying to remove his diving helmet again. +Excitement made his motions ineffective, and he signaled for Farmer to +help him, then continued to fumble with the fastenings himself. John +Andrew turned, feeling completely doomed, to aid the man, and they +started getting in each other's way and slowing down the operation even +more. + +They finally succeeded, though; the helmet swung back, and Ray promptly +shoved Farmer aside. Some of Farmer's fear gave way to amazement at the +little inventor's audacity and what seemed to Farmer at least to be +foolishly optimistic scientific detachment. + +Ray said: "My name is Ray. It is indeed fortunate that you have met me +immediately upon your arrival here, since I am the world's greatest +genius, and thoroughly equipped to tell you anything you wish to know +about my people and civilization. I take it you come from Atlantis?" + +Amazingly, his tongue only got tangled once in the middle of this +speech, and he regained control of it quickly then. John Andrew felt a +touch of jealousy at the little man's capability in assuming control of +the situation. That, and a sudden idea of his own, forced him to speak +for himself. + +It was a sad attempt. "Venus.... Spaceship...." he managed to croak, +before giving it up. + +The launch rocked gently. The nonapus crouched motionless; the fishman +stood firmly, as if untouched by anything around him, his arms folded +and a faint smile upon his damp lips. + +Finally he spoke too. What he said was: "Venus. Spaceship. My name is +Ray. It is indeed fortunate that you have met me immediately upon your +arrival here, since I am the world's greatest genius...." + +He broke off. Apparently he interpreted the looks of consternation on +the faces of his audience correctly, for his smile became more friendly +and he continued in a casual tone. + +"Excuse me," he said. "I didn't speak your language before I arrived +here, and I had to learn it and become accustomed to its use through +analyzing what you just said. I really didn't mean to puzzle you or make +you feel inferior by mimicking you." + +Farmer's mind worked chaotically. This was puzzling, he decided, and +_did_ make him feel inferior--that is, it did if the man in the red +scales had really picked up English so quickly. And if not, why lie? + + * * * * * + +The fishman came forward. His step was bouncy, as if he were used to a +higher gravity or greater pressure (_that_, Farmer complimented himself +on his cleverness, made sense at least), but he extended his hand and +said "Put 'er there!" like any ladies' wear buyer at an annual +convention. Ray and Farmer shook with him in turn. His hand was damp and +webbed, but felt fairly human for all that. + +"My name is Garf," he said cheerfully. John Andrew tried not to stare at +him too noticeably, but Ray made no bones about it; apparently the +fishman thought nothing at all of his state of nudity. Farmer shivered. + +It was Ray who brought the conversation back to earth--or sea--again. He +asked Garf, directly, exactly where he did come from. + +Garf looked hesitant, then waved the two to the rail with him. "See +those?" he asked. They looked, and saw what seemed to be a flight of +steps, carved from stone, old, and worn, starting abruptly just below +the water level and leading downward. There was nothing on either side +of the steps, or underneath them as far as could be seen, but ordinary +ocean. "I came up those," Garf said. + +Farmer stared, and Ray stared. The stairway shouldn't be there--it +certainly hadn't been there before. Garf's explanations, it seemed, only +compounded the confusion caused by his presence. + +Farmer, muddled, looked again at the nonapus, which had apparently gone +to sleep. Even so, it looked deadly. + +Something bit him on the arm. He discovered Ray's fingers, in the diving +glove, digging into his flesh in an amazingly powerful grip. Farmer +hunched his shoulders, trying to break loose, and then he saw what Ray +was staring at. + +Garf had left them, and was strolling around the launch as if he had +just bought it--looking down his nose at it; at the same time, acting as +if he could afford not to give a damn how badly he'd been stung. But the +startling thing was that he had picked up the boathook and was twirling +it unconcernedly. He had not only picked it up, however--he had also +tied it in a knot. + +It should have splintered in his hands, assuming he was strong enough to +bend it at all. It hadn't; it was in perfect shape, except for the knot. +Or so it seemed, at least, for even as Ray started forward with +outstretched hand, obviously hoping to examine the thing, Garf gave it a +final twirl and scaled it carelessly overboard. + +John Andrew began to feel quick-frozen again. Being alone at sea in a +rickety craft with a possible madman had been bad enough. To have a +weird creature with superhuman powers, and an impossible pet monster, +added to the crew was a little too much. + + * * * * * + +Garf turned his attention to the television set, which was still +presenting its hysterical vaudeville. "Great-uncle's gills!" he +exclaimed, and lapsed into a fascinated silence. He studied the +proceedings carefully, holding the arms-crossed pose again. Finally he +turned to Ray. + +"Weren't you saying something about civilization a while ago, finless?" +he asked. His voice was sneering. + +Ray frowned, and said something about mass-appeal. "Pay no attention to +_that_," he continued. "Just listen to _me_. I'll tell you about our +civilization, and our science, and...." + +His voice broke off as if he had been struck in the face. In a way, he +had; Garf had deliberately turned his back on the old fellow. The +Judge's bloodshot little eyes darted about as if he wanted to pick up +something heavy and hit Garf on the crest with it. + +John Andrew's brain had finally resumed normal operations; he was +thinking slowly, but clearly. He examined the evidence with care. He +decided that Garf's superior attitude and powers boded no good; that if +the fishman once became slightly irritated he would sic the nonapus on +Ray and himself. (Probably, in fact, Garf would try to conquer the world +anyway; that was how it went in stories as corny as this situation.) +Farmer further decided that Ray was too egocentrically eccentric to be +trusted to get them out of this fix; he decided he'd have to do +something himself. + +Having decided all this, Farmer went back over the territory to see if +he could find any flaws in it--or any other way out. It still made +sense, and he added a decision to get the boat back to shore as fast as +possible. He approached the engine. + +As he did so, the engine melted into a solid, irregular lump of metal. +John Andrew gulped, and put out a tentative hand toward the fused mess. +It was not particularly warm--but it had melted. + +Farmer looked at Garf again with fear and awe, and the fishman looked +back with cold amusement. But not for long. Garf turned to the Judge's +invention--and started to show some genuine interest for the first time +since he had showed up. + +He stood over the thing, webbed hands on scaly hips, peering at it +intently. After a long silence, he knelt, and started feeling over the +machine with his webbed hands. Finally he placed his fingers on the +largest of the control switches--then changed his mind and gestured +imperatively to Judge Ray. + +"You--the 'intelligent' one," he said. The quotes around 'intelligent' +were clear in his intonation. "Explain this to me. It's obviously what +reactivated the gate--but whoever made it did a screwball job. There are +all sorts of things that don't seem to belong, and even the parts that +should be there seem wrong, somehow...." + +He paused. "Of course," he added, smugly, "I'm not a transportation +expert. If I were, I'd have made my own activator long ago, and done +some visiting on the closed worlds before this. Not that they'd have +kept me from getting bored for long, but yours looks as if it's going to +be slightly amusing, at least." + +A struggle showed in Ray's face. Farmer saw insulted anger, hurt pride, +a desire to brag about his gadgetry, a question about Garf's last words, +and a caution that was not too far from fear. John Andrew had stopped +trying to hide his own fear, and though he had plenty of questions of +his own, he was mainly concerned with looking for a means of escape. + +Garf was rising again, looking impatient. Ray reached a decision, said +"Go to hell!", and turned his back on the fishman. Garf looked +astonished, then angry, and raised a hand. Ray jumped, not very far +because of the heavy diving suit, stumbled on oddly twisted legs, and +collapsed on the deck, writhing, moaning, and turning red in the face. +The diving helmet clattered on the planks. + +Farmer got mad. He started to charge across the deck at Garf, but his +own feet went out from under him and he landed flat on his nose. There +were waves of fire chasing each other around his body, and his stomach +was trying to turn itself inside out. + + * * * * * + +As instantaneously as it had come, the pain left him. It left him weak +and quivering, and John Andrew Farmer lay on his back waiting for his +strength to seep back. As the red haze drifted from before his eyes, he +realized that the launch had acquired another occupant. + +In appearance, she could easily have been Garf's sister--or his wife. +Her figure was lithe and nicely curved. Her scales stopped in +eye-catching points just above her distinctly mammalian bosom; from +there on up she looked almost completely human. She wasn't wearing +anything either. The over-all effect was oddly beautiful. Farmer blushed +hotly, and tried to keep his eyes on her face. + +Not that it made any difference to her. She ignored everyone and +everything but the fishman. Glaring at him angrily, she snapped out his +name in an icy voice. "Garf!" + +"Dor!" + +Garf was a changed fishman; he looked faintly frightened, moderately +worried, and definitely embarrassed. This passed, and he started to +smile in a placating manner. + +"Garf!" Dor snapped again. She followed it up, this time, with a string +of intricate, foreign-sounding words that even Farmer could tell were +hot and stinging. + +The fishman backed away. He seemed to be growing angry himself now under +the whiplashing woman's tongue. Finally he spoke, in English. He called +Dor a puddle-snake. That wasn't all of what he said, by any means; the +name was preceded by several adjectives and followed by an obscene +command. Dor blanched slightly. + +"Oh, yes?" she said, her voice dripping danger. "I can speak this +language too, you know--I learned it years ago, before the gate to this +world was closed! And let me tell you something else...." + +She told him something else. John Andrew blushed furiously again, and +covered his ears with his hands. + +Little Ray was on his feet, trying to get a word in edgewise, but not +succeeding at all. He too started to get angry. Farmer hauled himself +upright, hoping to approach Ray, calm him, and get him to figure a way +out of this madhouse. + +Garf yelled an expletive and gestured with his hand. A wave of pure heat +swept over the boat, blistering what paint it still boasted. The blow +had been directed at Dor, and she showed that she had absorbed most of +it by wilting visibly--but Farmer felt as much of it as he wanted. It +was as if a blast furnace had suddenly opened beside him; sweat popped +out on his brow and filmed his eyes. He wondered how uncomfortable he +could get. + +A deadly silence descended. + + * * * * * + +John Andrew was wishing that he could swim when Dor smiled, and he began +to be interested in living again in spite of himself. The girl, he +thought, was somehow radiant--really lovely, in spite of her scales and +fins. It was peculiar; he'd never liked women at all, and had certainly +never thought he'd like a mermaid, but.... + +Anyway, he decided, he wasn't going to take sides if the two aliens were +going to fight it out. His first interest was in saving his own hide; +his second, in getting back to shore to give warning of the invasion. As +for Dor--John Andrew had lived this long without going to the aid of a +damsel in distress--without, in fact, ever seeing one that he could +remember, who wasn't obviously more capable of helping herself than he +was. He wasn't going to start rescuing fair maidens now--even if she +needed rescuing. Still, there was something awfully attractive.... Damn, +but he was confused! + +Dor's smile didn't really last that long; Farmer's thoughts were going +fast now, somehow. He had finished those just described before Dor said, +"All right, Garf. Fun's fun; now let's kiss and make up. After all, it's +illegal for us to be here--not only our own cops, but the Galactic +Federation, would be on our necks if they knew. Let's see if we can +close up the gate ourselves or if this needs to be reported. And then +let's go home." + +Garf grinned. "Whatever you say, my dear." He dipped an eyebrow in a +wink. Behind Dor, the nonapus stirred sluggishly, extended a tentacle, +opened a claw, and nipped Dor neatly on the behind. She screeched. + +There was an explosion in Farmer's brain. This was too much--Garf had +gone too far! The burly editor plunged across the deck, swinging a fist. +To his surprise, Garf did nothing to stop him; probably, John Andrew +figured later, the fishman expected no further trouble from the humans +after the treatment they'd had. + +Farmer's haymaker connected. + +Garf staggered across the deck until he brought up against the rail, +holding his jaw and shaking his head muzzily. Farmer braced himself for +retaliation, hoping it would be something less than a bolt of barbed +lightning. But Garf remained unpredictable. He mumbled something that +wasn't "Oh the hell with it" but sounded like it, and softly and +silently slid overboard. He disappeared under water with scarcely a +ripple. + +"Good!" Dor said, briskly. "Now, I'll just.... Ah!" She strode directly +to Ray's invention, and Farmer wondered why both the aliens were so +interested in a gadget that didn't work. + + * * * * * + +Dor wasted no time. She bent over, picked up the machine, yanking wiring +loose carelessly, straightened up, turned a beaming smile on Farmer and +Ray, said "Goodbye," and headed for the rail. + +Ray yelped. He started after her, but his progress in the diving suit +was waddling and slow. She reached the rail first and went over. Ray was +not too far behind, and he slammed his helmet down angrily as he reached +the rail. Farmer, galvanized belatedly, gave chase as well. + +Dor was picking her way slowly down the stone steps, the machine cradled +under her arm. Ray climbed up on the rail, poised there a second, then +attempted a swan dive. John Andrew yelled at him as he arced forward, +but it was too late. The old man dropped like a stone, flapping his +arms, bounced slightly on the top step, then slid forward down several +more steps on his faceplate. + +Dor hesitated, her head just above water. She looked at the limp, +diving-suited body beside her, then back at the launch and Farmer. +Again, she came to a decision quickly. + +Bending, leaving a trail of bubbles as her head went under, she set the +Judge's invention down on a lower step and picked up the Judge instead. +Cradling him in her arms, she started back up again, calling to Farmer +to be ready to take her burden aboard. + +They got him on the boat with little difficulty, and John Andrew laid +him on the deck as Dor sprang lithely over the rail again, showing +interest in the little fellow's condition. The diving helmet came off +easily, not having been properly fastened down at all. Farmer bent +anxiously over the Judge, looking for signs of life. + +The diving suit had shipped some water, and the Judge had gotten a nasty +crack on the head--but he was a tough bozo. There was no blood, his +breathing seemed almost normal, and he already showed signs of returning +consciousness. + +John Andrew turned to Dor. "Well, I should thank you for bringing him +back, I guess," he muttered. "But now that you're with us again"--he +shot out a big paw and grabbed her by the wrist--"how about explaining +some of this?" + +He was very gentle with the wrist. He didn't want to hurt her; he was +wondering already, in fact, what had made him get so rough at all. But +she didn't seem to mind. + +"I've got to go quickly," she told him. "I think Garf will be all right +now, but he may take a notion to come back. And I have to see that the +gate is closed before ..." + +"What gate? Get back where?" Farmer managed to put more curiosity than +impatience into his tone. + +"Back to my own planet--Tamdivar, sun Nogore, member of the Galactic +Federation," she said patiently. "The gate is a matter-transmitter +between my world and yours. It was once in constant use, but my +government closed it when you people got to the point where you were +running around in submarines, using depth bombs, and just noticing our +aircraft too much." + + * * * * * + +Somehow, what popped into Farmer's head was the chorus of an old song he +had sung in boy's camp when very young. "_There's a hole in the bottom +of the sea! There's a log in the hole...._" + +"Your machine reactivated the gate from this side, even if that isn't +what you designed it to do," Dor went on. "It's a good thing I noticed +the gate was open. Of course, the area affected isn't large--it includes +those steps and a lot of water around them. + +"The gate'll stay open now until it's closed from our side--but I'll +have to take your outfit back and destroy it, anyway. Our cops would be +tough with you if they found you operating the thing, and Federation +Securitymen would be even tougher. Take it as a warning: don't do it +again." + +She turned to go, but Farmer held on. "What's this about a Galactic +Federation? And if they've banned all communication with Earth, why +haven't they just blasted the planet out of existence and gotten rid of +it? Of course, I know we're thoroughly uncivilized and too warlike for +any other race to trust, and all that. I can see how Earth might be +considered the plague spot of the universe...." + +Dor gawked, and saw that he was very serious. Then she threw back her +head and laughed a merry laugh. "Listen, friend," she said at last. "The +only real trouble with you Earth people is that you have a tremendous +inferiority complex, collectively and individually--as you've just +illustrated. Get over that and you'll eliminate most of your trouble. As +for the Federation, they let _us_ in, and most member-races have wars +occasionally; they'll undoubtedly accept you, once you develop space +travel. + +"Just at the moment, of course, you're at a crossroads. You could jump +in either direction, blowing yourself up or taking the big step into +space. I think you'll turn out okay, but not everybody agrees--and the +Federation can't take even small chances. So you can't be allowed to set +off your atom bombs, or worse, where they might get through to another +planet. We can't actually interfere with you, so we've closed the gates; +that's all." + +John Andrew, thinking it over, said "Oh," and let go of her wrist. She +turned and went back to the rail again, after flashing him the most de +luxe smile so far. Farmer came out of a philosophic haze to notice she +was leaving. He said, "Hey!" + +She looked over her shoulder. Farmer didn't know what to say, but he +wanted to delay her. Finally, he pointed to the nonapus, and said, "What +about that monster? You're not going to leave it here?" + +She laughed again. "Oh, the robot? It'll follow me. It's designed to.... +Oh damn!" + +The damn was for something she saw in the water as she looked back over +the rail again. John Andrew rushed to her side and looked as she got set +for a dive. Garf, he saw immediately, had returned, and was picking up +the Judge's invention. + +"Put that down!" Dor's yell was high-pitched. Garf faced them, and +Farmer could just make out his lazy, contemptuous smile through the +murky water. The fishman raised his arm in one of the now-familiar +gestures. + +The boat heaved, wallowed, and sank. + +Farmer thought desperately again that he couldn't swim, and then he +thought wildly of the Judge, who hadn't regained full consciousness. He +went under once, and came up choking and sputtering. He decided his end +had come--and he didn't even know the identity of the enemy who had done +him in. It was ironic. He should have asked Dor to tell him more about +Garf--was he a traitor, or a Tamdivarian gangster, or what? John Andrew +gasped and started sinking again.... + +To find himself hauled out of the water unceremoniously by the scruff of +his neck. As he rose, ropy tentacles twined about him, and he saw what +had saved him. He was being cradled, gently but firmly, by the nonapus, +which had Judge Ray in another set of tentacles. And the nonapus, it +became apparent, was not only a water-creature. + +It could also fly. + + * * * * * + +Garf paddled idly around Dor's apartment, pretending interest in the +shell-paintings that decorated the walls. He had presented her a bouquet +in which rare blossoms hid slimy, smelly weeds, and she was sore at +him--again. As she finished her conversation and switched off the +two-way radio, he turned to her. "Dor," he said softly. + +She looked at him haughtily. "Don't speak to me!" she said. "I told you +you'd have to stop your irresponsible practical joking and settle down. +Some hard work wouldn't hurt you even if you did inherit a fortune. I +don't mind so much when you pull these stunts on me, but when I think of +how you practically drowned those poor, defenseless Earth-creatures...." + +His mouth twisted. "Poor, defenseless Earth-creatures! How was I to know +they couldn't swim? Just imagine--beings that live on a world with +almost as much water as ours, who can't use their natural abilities any +more than that! It's ridiculous. I never saw such morons--the big, ugly +one especially!" + +He had intended that to sting, and it did. Dor raised her nose another +notch. "I think he's cute, and I'm learning he's pretty intelligent, +too. He catches on fast to everything I tell him. He and his little +friend will have their spaceship finished soon now, and...." + +"That's another thing!" Garf snapped, keeping her on the defensive. +"Maybe I violated Security by going to Earth when they accidentally +opened the gate, but what are you doing? What would the Fed say if they +knew you were giving out information the Earthmen hadn't acquired by +themselves--helping them get into space? What about that?" + +Dor shrugged. "I'm not telling them anything, really. Just dropping a +few hints of the most elementary sort. Things they'd have figured out +soon anyway--and things they still have to work hard to make +practicable. Even if some of the inventions they've worked out so far +have enabled them to make enough money to live on nicely--after all, +those things are the merest toys to us--what could it possibly matter?" + +Garf considered. This bickering was, as usual, getting them exactly +nowhere. He gave up. "All right, dear," he said. "You win; you're right, +of course, and I'm wrong. I only hope you won't bother so much with +talking to that Earth-slug on the radio after we're married." + +Dor laughed a tinkly laugh and came into his waiting arms. "Darling," +she cooed. "What a thing to say. I actually believe you're jealous--and +you know I only love you." + +Which wasn't strictly true. The big Earthman _was_ cute, she thought, +and it was quaint of him to be in love with her, and to tell her so +every day over the radio built into the robot-nonapus. Of course, he was +inferior to her in every way, and she wouldn't think of marrying him or +anything like that. But even his inferiority was interesting, in a way. + +Yes, it was nice to know he loved her. + +And she loved him, too--like an amusing baby brother. + + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note | + | | + | This etext was produced from "Future combined with Science | + | Fiction stories" September 1951. Extensive research did not | + | uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this | + | publication was renewed. | + | | + | | + | Errata | + | | + | The following typographical errors have been corrected: | + | | + | |Error |Correction | | + | |effected |affected | | + | |to to |to | | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stairway to the Stars, by Larry Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAIRWAY TO THE STARS *** + +***** This file should be named 23159.txt or 23159.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/5/23159/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi 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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