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diff --git a/25078.txt b/25078.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d1cc37 --- /dev/null +++ b/25078.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1298 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of No Moving Parts, by Murray F. Yaco + +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: No Moving Parts + +Author: Murray F. Yaco + +Release Date: April 16, 2008 [EBook #25078] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NO MOVING PARTS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Andrew Wainwright and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + NO MOVING PARTS + + + + + By MURRAY F. YACO + + ILLUSTRATED by GRAYAM + +[Illustration: We call them trouble-shooters. They called 'em Gypsies. +Either way, they were hep to that whole bit about....] + + +Hansen was sitting at the control board in the single building on +Communications Relay Station 43.4SC, when the emergency light flashed +on for the first time in two hundred years. + +With textbook-recommended swiftness, he located the position of the ship +sending the call, identified the ship and the name of its captain, and +made contact. + +"This is Hansen on 43.4SC. Put me through to Captain Fromer." + +"Fromer here," said an incredible deep voice, "what the devil do you want?" + +"What do I want?" asked the astonished Hansen. "It was you, sir, who sent +the emergency call." + +"I did no such thing," said Fromer with great certainty. + +"But the light flashed--" + +"How long have you been out of school?" Fromer asked. + +"Almost a year, sir, but that doesn't change the fact that--" + +"That you're imagining things and that you've been sitting on that asteroid +hoping that something would happen to break the monotony. Now leave me the +hell alone or I'll put you on report." + +"Now look here," Hansen began, practically beside himself with frustration, +"I saw that emergency light go on. Maybe it was activated automatically +when something went out of order on your ship." + +"I don't allow emergencies on the Euclid Queen," said Fromer with growing +anger. "Now, if you don't--" + +Hansen spared himself the indignity of being cut off. He broke contact +himself. He sighed, reached for a book entitled _Emergency Procedure +Rules_, and settled back in his chair. + +Fifteen minutes later the emergency light flashed on for the second time in +two hundred years. With its red glow illuminating his freckled excited +face, Hansen triumphantly placed another call to the Euclid Queen. + +"This is Hansen on 43.4SC. Let me speak to Captain Fromer, please." + +"Er--the Captain has asked me to contact you. I'm the navigator. I was just +about to call you. We have a small problem that--" + +"I'll speak to the Captain," Hansen repeated grimly. + +"Now see here. I'm perfectly capable of handling this situation. Actually, +it's hardly even an emergency. You were, it seems, signaled automatically +when--" + +"If you'll check your emergency procedures," Hansen said, holding his thumb +in the Rule Book, "you'll note that the Relay Station Attendant contacts +the Captain personally during all emergencies. Of course, if you want to +violate--" + +"Look, old man," said the navigator, now sounding on the verge of tears, +"try to realize the spot I'm in. Fromer has ordered me to handle this thing +without his assistance. He seems to feel that you have a grudge of some +kind--" + +"If you don't put me in touch with Captain Fromer in five minutes, I'll put +through a call to Sector Headquarters." Hansen signaled off contact. If he +knew nothing else about the situation, he knew that he had the upper hand. + + * * * * * + +Five minutes later Captain Fromer called him back. "I am calling in +accordance with emergency procedures," Fromer said between clinched teeth. +"The situation is this: We are reporting an emergency--" + +"What class emergency?" Hansen interrupted. + +"Class?" asked Fromer, obviously caught off guard. + +"Yes, Captain. There are three classes of emergencies. Major class, which +would include death and injury. Mechanical class, including malfunction of +Hegler units and such. And General class--" + +"Yes, yes, of course, General class by all means," Fromer said hurriedly. +"You see, it's hardly even an emergency. We--" + +"Just what is the nature of the trouble, Captain?" + +"Why, uh, well it seems that we were doing a preliminary landing procedure +check, and ..." + +"Yes, go on." + +"Why, er, it seems that we can't get the door open." + +It was Hansen's turn to be taken aback. "You're pulling my leg, sir." + +"I most certainly am not," Captain Fromer said emphatically. + +"You really mean that you can't open the door?" + +"I'm afraid so. Something's wrong with the mechanism. Our technical staff +has never encountered a problem like this, and they advise me that any +attempt at repair might possibly result in the opposite situation." + +"You mean not being able to get the door closed?" + +"Precisely. In other words, we can't land." + +"I see. Then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do except advise Sector +Headquarters to send an emergency repair crew." + +Captain Fromer sighed. "I'm afraid so, too. How long will it take for a +message to get there with your transmitting equipment?" + +"Two days, Captain. At a guess, there'll be a ship alongside within the +week. You'll be maintaining your present position, I assume?" + +"Oh, we'll be here, all right," Fromer said bitterly. Then he cut contact. + + * * * * * + +As the single occupant of a large asteroid with nothing but time and +boredom on his hands, Hansen was enjoying the whole situation immensely. He +allowed himself the luxury of several dozen fantasies in which his name was +mentioned prominently in galaxy-wide reports of the episode. He imagined +that Captain Fromer was also creating vivid accounts--of quite another +sort--that would soon be amusing several hundred billion news-hungry +citizens of the Federation. + +When the repair ship arrived, it came, to Hansen's astonishment, to the +asteroid, and not alongside Fromer's ship. He soon found out that there was +someone else who shared the Captain's embarrassment. + +"I'm Bullard," said a tall, thin, mournful man. "Mind if I sit?" + +"Help yourself," Hansen waved a hand toward the meager accommodations. He +had no idea why a Senior Engineer was being so deferential, but he enjoyed +the feeling of power. + +"You're probably wondering about a lot of things," Bullard began sadly. +"Frankly, we don't have any ideas about how we can fix Captain Fromer's +door." He waited to let that sink in. Then he continued: "It took us three +days back at the base to find out that when these ships were built, almost +five hundred years ago, nobody bothered to include detail drawings of the +door mechanism." + +"But why? You certainly know how to build--" + +"We know how to build Star Class ships, sure. We've built a few in the +past century or two. There's never been need for replacement, really. +These ships are designed to last forever. The original fleet was +conceived to fill the System's needs for a full thousand years." + +"But the doors on the few ships that have been built. How--" + +"The ship's we've built were exact duplicates of Captain Fromer's +ship--except for the door." Bullard's long face radiated despair. "No +one ever questioned why the door mechanism wasn't included in the +original plans. We simply designed another type--a different type--of +door." + +"Well, you certainly can find out how this particular door works, can't +you?" + +"I hope so," Bullard said, wringing his hands. "But we have a couple of +other problems. Number one, Captain Fromer has an extremely important +passenger aboard. None other than His Exalted Excellency, R'thagna Bar. +He is--or was--on his way home after concluding a treaty of friendship +with the President of the Federation." + +Hansen managed a whistle. + +"Furthermore," Bullard continued, "His Excellency _has to be home soon_ to +get there in time for the mating season. This occurs once in a lifetime, +I'm told, and this is his only chance to continue the ancestral rule--" + +"Wait a minute," Hansen said. "Are you trying to say that you can't solve a +simple problem like getting him home and getting him out of the ship? You +can always cut it in two, can't you?" + +"These ships were made to last forever," Bullard explained. "The hull is, +of course, pseudo-met, but, not the kind of pseudo-met used for other +applications. In short, about the only way you'll get in that ship is to +vaporize it." + +"But can't you simply disassemble the door mechanism? My God, how +complicated can it be?" + +"We're going to try to do just that," Bullard said without a trace of +confidence. "As far as the complication goes, let me say just this: it's +full of moving parts." + +"What are you getting at?" Hansen asked. + +"Just this. These ships are perfect mechanisms. There is hardly anything in +them that could be called a moving part. Now a door has to open and close. +Sure, we devised a simple, safe way to do it a few hundred years after the +original fleet was built. The men who designed the original door mechanism +felt, perhaps, that it was incongruous to include it in the first place. +Maybe that is why they threw away the plans. God knows, it is incongruous. +Look! Here's a photo we took of one in a ship back at base." + +Hansen scanned the photograph. It was a meaningless jumble. He handed it +back. "Well, make yourself at home. I'm afraid that the only thing I can +help with will be radio communication to Captain Fromer's ship." + +"Good enough," Bullard said. "I'm expecting someone else tomorrow. After +you bring him down, feel free to drop over and see me anytime." + + * * * * * + +Bullard went back to his ship, and Hansen went to bed. He dreamed of His +Exalted Excellency R'thagna Bar, growing angrier day by day as the time of +mating came closer. In his dream he suddenly came upon a magnificent +solution to the problem, a solution involving a telepathic system of +fertilization. He woke up before he had completely worked out the details. + +Bullard's friend arrived the same morning. He was a small, dark active +little man whom Hansen immediately disliked. + +"Meet Dr. Quemos," Bullard said when Hansen dropped in on them. "Dr. Quemos +is a specialist in the history of technology. He thinks he knows how our +cute little door mechanism is made." + +"Can't say for sure," Quemos said, "but I'd guess that those components are +made of metal--real metal." + +"I thought that metal was used only in jewelry," Hansen said. + +Dr. Quemos grinned slyly. "That's what most people think. Actually, refined +metal of various types was used in large masses, formed masses, for +thousands of years. Historically speaking, the pseudo-mets are relatively +new." + +"It's difficult to imagine metal functioning as machinery," Hansen mused. + +"And you say that this door mechanism has moving parts, lots of them?" + +"Moving parts are nothing to be afraid of," Quemos said. "Here, look at +this." He put something small on the table, much in the manner of a young +boy dropping a garter snake in the midst of school girls. Bullard and +Hansen crowded around. "Now, take turns," said Quemos sharply, "and don't +drop it. It's priceless, I assure you." The ancient wrist watch with its +transparent back was passed from hand to hand. + +"Frightening little monster, isn't it," Bullard said. + +"Those small round wheels are called gears," elucidated Quemos, "one gear +turns another, which turns another, and so on. I rather imagine that your +door is operated on some similar principle." + +"I seem to be the one who asks all the schoolboy questions," Hansen began, +"would somebody tell me why Captain Fromer doesn't take His Excellency to +his home planet, land the ship, and then let his technical staff tear off +the door mechanism?" + +"We've gone through that," Bullard said wearily. "Unfortunately we need +special tools. And there's no way to get them into the ship." + +"Can I speak to Captain Fromer?" Quemos asked. + +"Right away," Hansen said. He pressed his hand in various patterns on his +belt. "This is Hansen. Let us talk to Captain Fromer, please." + +"Fromer here. Who is it?" + +"Dr. Quemos speaking. How is your passenger?" + +"My passenger is fine. But he keeps telling me that he is very anxious to +plant his seed. When can you get us out of here?" + +"Plant his seed?" said Quemos. + +"There's nothing salacious about this, I've been assured. He simply has a +biological craving at this time in his life to--to plant his seed." + +"I got problems like that, too," Bullard said, "but I don't go around +telling everybody." + + * * * * * + +"Stop clowning," Fromer snapped, "you guys better find a way to fix this +damn door or you'll have a galactic war on your hands. Anybody have any +ideas yet?" + +"We're sure that the door mechanism is made of metal," Quemos said, "and +the construction is probably based on the principal of a worm gear." + +"A what?" + +"A worm gear, Captain," Quemos said patiently. "It's an ancient metal +device that was sometimes used for closing large doors. There is also the +possibility that the door is closed and opened by dogs. These seem to have +been used, at least, to operate doors of undersea crafts. Although we're +not quite certain about the function of dogs." + +The captain maintained a stony silence. + +"Also," Quemos continued, "we have unearthed, so to speak, a reference to a +metal component called a babbitt--" + +"Now see here!" Captain Fromer roared, "who do you think you're kidding +with this talk about worms, dogs and rabbits--" + +"Babbitts, Captain, babbitts! Perhaps a type of bearing. Anyway, we're at +work on the problem, I assure you." Quemos motioned to Hansen that he was +through talking. + + * * * * * + +During the next three days, Hansen twice visited Bullard and Quemos. +On each occasion, he found the two men in trance-like conditions, +ostensibly thinking through the problem that they had been assigned to +solve, but more probably, Hansen guessed, brooding about the reaction +of Sector Headquarters to their daily progress reports which Hansen had +been relaying for them. Hansen had only sympathy for the people back at +Sector Headquarters, for if these two experts were the Galaxy's two top +trouble-shooters, the Federation, was not, as Hansen put it to himself, +in very good shape to fight a war with one hundred billion enraged +citizens who worshiped His Exalted Excellency R'thagna Bar almost as +much as they did his seed. + +Hansen went back to his reading, only to be interrupted with increasing +frequency by message transmissions from an increasingly alarmed Sector +Headquarters. Most messages were addressed to Bullard, and were bravely +designed to disguise the senders' hysteria, while at the same time +urging Bullard on to more magnificent efforts. A few messages, fairly +representative of the state of affairs as time wore on reflected an +increasing suspicion on the part of Sector Headquarters that Quemos and +Bullard, although certainly tops in their fields, were not tops enough. + + + SEC HDQ + BULLARD, COM. RLY. + 43.4SC + + PRESIDENT WOULD LIKE ESTIMATE OF WHEN DOOR WILL BE OPENED. YOU + SURE YOU CAN HANDLE? EMPHASIZE THAT POLITICAL SITUATION NOW + GETTING TOUCHY. REPEAT TOUCHY. R'THAGNA BAR CALLING ON PRESIDENT + TODAY TO MAKE DEMAND THAT SEED BE PLANTED ON TIME. SURE YOU + DON'T NEED MORE HELP? + + CMD GENERAL + + + CMD GENERAL + + NO HELP NEEDED. MAKING PROGRESS, ASSURE PRESIDENT. TODAY FOUND + OUT METAL IN MECHANISM IS VERY HARD. IN CONSTANT RADIO TOUCH + WITH FROMER. PASSENGER IMPATIENT BUT QUIETER. SLEEPS MORE NOW. + THIS SIGNIFICANT? QUEMOS DEVELOPING THEORY OF MECHANISM. SAYS + WILL TAKE TIME TO WORK OUT. HOW MUCH TIME WE HAVE? WHEN MUST + SEED BE PLANTED? + + BULLARD + + + SEC. HDQ. + BULLARD, COM. RLY. + 43.4SC + + MUST HAVE ESTIMATE WHEN DOOR OPENS. THIS AN ORDER. AMBASSADOR + THREATENING WAR. CAN'T GIVE DEADLINE OF SEED PLANTING TIME SINCE + SUBJECT VERY TABOO. OUR BIOLOGISTS SAY R'THAGNA BAR SLEEPY + SIGNIFICANT. MAY BE PRELUDE TO SEEDING TIME. TELL ABOUT QUEMOS + THEORY IN NEXT COMMUNICATION. WILL EVALUATE HERE. NICE TO KNOW + METAL IS HARD. KEEP UP GOOD WORK. PRESSURE HERE TO SEND YOU + HELP. PRESIDENT SAYS WHOLE FEDERATION PRAYING FOR DOOR TO BE + FIXED. SAYS TO HURRY UP. + + CMD GENERAL + + + CMD GENERAL + + NO ESTIMATE POSSIBLE. QUEMOS THEORY ALMOST COMPLETE. STATES THAT + MECHANISM BUILT ON PRINCIPLE OF WORM GEAR. REPEAT. WORM GEAR. + TODAY INSTRUCTED FROMER'S CREW TO JIGGLE MOVING PARTS OF + MECHANISM AT RANDOM. PARTS WOULD NOT JIGGLE. FROMER STATES THAT + R'THAGNA BAR SLEEPS ALL TIME AND COLOR CHANGES TO BLUE AND RED + ON STOMACH. THIS SIGNIFICANT? + + BULLARD + + + SEC HDQ + BULLARD, COM. RLY + 43.4SC + + IMPORTANT YOU AMPLIFY LAST MESSAGE. RED AND BLUE ON STOMACH? WHY + R'THAGNA BAR UNDRESSED? INVESTIGATE! PRESIDENT ORDERS HELP + SENT. HELP ON WAY. REPEAT. WHY R'THAGNA BAR UNDRESSED? + + CMD GENERAL + + + CMD GENERAL + + FROMER ADVISES TELL YOU SHIPS PHYSICIAN HAS PUT R'THAGNA BAR IN + REFRIGERATOR. + + QUEMOS + + + SEC HDQ + QUEMOS. COM. RLY. + 43.4SC. + + TAKE OUT OF REFRIGERATOR! THIS AN ORDER! WHY UNDRESSED? + + CMD GENERAL + + + CMD GENERAL + + BULLARD MAKING MODEL OF MY DRAWINGS. READY SOON. R'THAGNA BAR + OUT OF REFRIGERATOR AS REQUESTED BUT SHIPS PHYSICIAN VERY ANGRY + AND WANTS TO PUT BACK IN. COLOR ON STOMACH PINK AND YELLOW WITH + BLUE SQUARES. THIS SIGNIFICANT? + + QUEMOS + + +It went on like this for several more days. Hansen, at first amused, was +now alarmed and completely convinced that both Quemos and Bullard were +thoroughly useless. The messages were his only source of information, since +both "experts" were too immersed in their work to talk with him. As his +alarm grew, he decided that he might at least try to strike up a friendship +with someone on board Captain Fromer's sealed ship--someone who might have +something comforting to report. He called up the ship's navigator. + +"This is Hansen. How're things going up there?" + +"Ha!" + +"What's that mean? Good or bad?" + +"It means," the navigator said, while yawning, "that things are falling +apart rapidly. In fact, in a day or two I don't think it'll make much +difference whether or not they open that damn door." + +"You, er, care to fill me in?" + +"Why not?" said the navigator, with the voice of a man who knows that it is +too late for anything to matter. "The members of the crew are divided into +two factions. It appears that our physician has rallied half the crew to +support his medical contention that our exhalted passenger belongs in the +refrigerator. The good captain, with some justice, one must admit, thinks +that he is in command of the ship, and prefers to believe that R'thagna Bar +belongs out of the refrigerator." + +"Who seems to be winning the argument?" + +"Argument? There's no argument, old man--it's open warfare. No weapons +aboard, of course, but the two teams are grappling up and down the +corridors and shuttling our exhalted passenger in and out of the ice box +about four times each hour. Quite a sight, really. Right now he's _in_ +the refrigerator, but the other team--" + +"Let me know who's ahead from time to time, will you?" Hansen heard himself +say. + +"Glad to oblige," the navigator said, yawning again. "Oh, incidentally, +have they sent for help yet?" + + * * * * * + +Hansen said with some surprise, "Why, as a matter of fact, Sector +Headquarters is sending some help. How did you know?" + +"Bound to happen sooner or later, old man. When the going really gets tough +they always get around to sending a Gypsy. Only way to get anything done, +you know." + +"I don't know," Hansen said reluctantly. "Why is it that everyone knows +except me? What, please, is a Gypsy?" + +"You're too young to know everything, old man," the navigator said. "You're +especially too young to know about one of the Federation's best kept +secrets. But you might as well, I suppose. The fact is that a Gypsy is a +generally vagrant, dirty, thieving, clever scoundrel who will not work, who +has absolutely no respect for order or authority, who believes that our +institutions are effete and--" + +"But then why--" + +"Patience, patience," cautioned the navigator, haughtily, "if I am to +reveal everything I know, I must do it in my own way. The description I +just gave you is not necessarily true. It is simply the way that Sector +Headquarters feels about Gypsies. Common jealousy, really. It seems that +from time to time, our perfect little galactic society spawns men who don't +care to be cast in the common mold. In short, there are a few men around +with brains who don't think that it means very much to wear pretty uniforms +or fancy titles." + +"Uniforms like yours?" asked Hansen. + +"Precisely," the navigator said sadly. "The truth of the matter is, of +course, that I only play at being a navigator. I couldn't get this ship off +course, if I tried. The same is true with the four engineering officers who +stand around watching the Hegler drive units. They occasionally make a +ceremonial adjustment, but beyond that, they simply stand around looking +pretty." + +"No moving parts." Hansen said. + +"No moving brains, if you like. Anyway, a Gypsy has--somewhere along the +line--learned how to do things. They'll take an emergency call about once a +year--if they happen to feel like it. Then they charge about half a million +credits." + +"You mean they have an organization, standard rates and--" + +"Heavens no!" the navigator said. "They hate anything that smells like +organization. They don't even specialize in any certain kind of work. One +year they'll be fascinated by sub-nucleonics, the next by horse racing. +Very erratic. Can't keep attention on any one thing. Heard of one once who +engaged in fishing and alcohol drinking. Brilliant mathematician, too. But +he'd only take a call once every three years or so." + +"For a half million credits a crack, eh? You could live pretty well for +three years on that." + +"Strangely enough," the navigator said thoughtfully, "they don't really +have any interest in money. If you'd ever met one, you'd know that the high +fee is sort of a penalty they mete out to everyone else for being so dumb." + +"Well, one thing for sure," Hansen said, "if Bullard and Quemos are the +cream of the crop, I'm on the side of the Gypsies." + +"Ah, youth!" the navigator said, "I, too, once had such dreams--" + + * * * * * + +"We'll see about the dreams," Hansen said, almost menacingly, "I didn't +spend six years in that damn school just to sit around in a pretty uniform +for the rest of my life." + +"Oh, you'll get used to it. In fact, you'll like it after a while. The home +leaves. The fuss your friends will make over you when you step off the +ship. The regular and automatic promotions in grade with the extra gold +band added to your sleeve; the move from one outpost to an always larger +installation. You'll never do much, of course, but why should you? After +all, there aren't any moving parts." + + * * * * * + +Hansen cut the communicator off. He stood there for a moment, feeling +depressed and betrayed. Automatically he reached down and flicked imaginary +dust from his blue sleeve with its narrow solitary gold band. Ten minutes +later the Gypsy's ship signaled for landing. + +The man who walked into Hansen's control room was hardly the ogre he had +been prepared for. He looked, Hansen was later to reflect, like Santa Claus +with muscles in place of the fat. Wearing an almost unheard of beard and +dressed in rough clothes, he walked across the room and made short work of +the usual formalities. "Name's Candle," said the man. "Where's those two +phonies I'm supposed to replace?" + +"You'll have to go suit up and go back through the airlock," Hansen said, +motioning to the door. "They're in their ship. It's the one next to yours. +Want me to tell them you're on your way over?" + +"Hell, no," said Candle, grinning, "I'll surprise 'em. Now, suppose you and +me sit down and have a little chat." + +They sat and Candle pumped Hansen of everything he knew about the entire +situation. An hour later, Hansen felt almost as if he had been had. "Is +that all?" he asked, wearily. + +"I got the facts," Candle said. "Now let's go throw those experts out." It +wasn't quite that simple. Neither Bullard nor Quemos had any intention of +simply clearing out. "Who the hell you think you are," Bullard said, "to +come over here and order us off? We didn't even ask for help. And, God +knows, you couldn't supply it anyway." Bullard, with evident distaste, ran +his eyes up and down Candle's clothing. + +Dr. Quemos had some ideas, too. "Letter of authority or no letter of +authority," Quemos said, pointing a manicured forefinger at the paper in +Candle's hand, "you'll ruin everything! You have no idea what you're up +against. We've spent weeks working this thing out--" + +Candle grinned. "What've you worked out?" + +"Why--why we know that this is a metal double enveloping worm gear." + +"Wrong," Candle said. "It's a single enveloping worm gear. It's made of +steel with an aluminum alloy wheel gear and the two parts have corroded and +stuck. The whole mechanism was originally designed for submarines." + +Quemos started to say something, then turned and looked at Bullard for +reassurance. "He's crazy," Bullard said, "he's making it up as he goes +along. How could he possibly know what he's talking about? Why, there +haven't been any submarines for centuries." + +"I'm tired of playing games," Candle said, no longer grinning. "The boy and +I have work to do. You two are in the way. You'll only take up time if I +have to work with you and show you what to do. I want you and your ship out +of here in half an hour." + +"Who's going to make us?" Bullard asked with great originality. + +"I am." + +Everybody turned around to see who else had entered the conversation. It +was Hansen. "I'm going to give you fifteen minutes, not thirty," Hansen +said. "Then I'm going to turn the grid power on at full intensity. You can +either use it to take off, or sit around and roast alive inside your ship." +Candle turned and looked at Hansen with new respect. "Okay ... Let's go +back to your place. I've still got some things to figure out." + +Quemos was on the verge of hysteria. "You're bluffing! You wouldn't dare. +I'll report this!" + +Fifteen minutes later, the ship headed for space. + + * * * * * + +Back in Hansen's room, the two men ate a quick lunch, then sat at the table +and talked about Candle's plans for opening the reluctant door. "The way I +figure it," Candle said, "I think that we can handle the whole thing by +radio. Which reminds me, one of these days I'm going to build a telescreen +that will transmit and receive through pseudo-met. Not too difficult really +if you approach the problem--" + +"I better get Fromer for you," Hansen said hurriedly. + +"Fromer here," said the bass voice. + +"This is Candle. Let me talk to one of your so-called engineering +officers." + +"Who the hell--" + +"Shut up and go get 'em," Candle growled back. "And one more yelp out of +you and you'll stay in that ship till you rot." + +There was a pause, then Fromer again, a meek Fromer. "My chief engineering +officer is with me." + +"Okay. Now get this. Come to think of it, you'd better record it. Number +one: By now you know which component is a worm gear. You will notice, I'm +quite certain, that it engages a large notched wheel. The reason that the +door will not move is because at the point where the two gears meet, some +of the metal has oxidized. For possible use in future emergencies, I offer +this explanation. The entire mechanism is subject to periodic vacuum, when +the airlock door is operated. In between times, the mechanism is in the +ship's atmosphere. A condition of lower oxygen content thus obtains around +the sealed off area, and such an area is anodic--in other words, corrodible +with respect to the surrounding areas in which oxygen has free access. Now, +since this door has opened and closed successfully for about five hundred +years, it appears that there's a special reason why it suddenly refuses to +function. At a guess, you would experience this condition of intense +corrosion only when the aluminum in the wheel gear is exposed to something +like sodium hydroxide, and only at the point where it controls the worm +gear. Now, has this ship landed recently within such an atmosphere?" + +"Three weeks ago on Ghortin IV," said the weak voice of the engineer. "We +landed to get some pictures of the cloud formations for souvenirs. We +dropped on the edge of a large body of water because the view was better--" + + * * * * * + +Candle shook his head sadly and said, "You could have avoided trouble +by coming in over the land instead of the water. The heat from the +ship boiled the water which undoubtedly contained sodium carbonate and +calcium hydroxide; presto, and the air was filled with clouds of sodium +hydroxide. + +"I suggest that you steer away from all such wicked places in the future. +Of course, if you'd learn how to mine ore, smelt metal, machine +components--" + +"First they'd have to discover fire," Hansen said out of the corner of +his mouth. + +"You're catching on, son," Candle said, out of the corner of his mouth. +"Now, gentlemen, to open the door it will be necessary to break the +corroded area apart. This is a large heavy mechanism, as such things go. +Since you have no tools heavy enough to batter the corroded area apart, +you'll have to make some." + +"How can we?" + +Candle sighed. "I wish I had time to teach you to think, but instead, +you'll have to do as I tell you to do. I think you can probably make a +battering ram out of water. You just--don't interrupt--find or make a long +cylindrical container, fill it with water and quick-freeze it in your +refrigerator--" + +"But they put R'thagna Bar in the refrigerator again--" + +"Then I suggest you get him the hell out," Candle said. + +An hour later ten men smashed a half-ton cylinder of ice against the +corroded junction of the two gears. Following Candle's instructions, they +next applied the ram to the door itself, which smoothly swung open. "You'll +find," Candle explained, "that the only damage will be the two missing +teeth on the aluminum gear. Since only two teeth are ever in contact at any +time, you can simply slide the gear forward and engage it at a point where +the teeth are intact. You'll find, I'm quite sure, that your door will +function properly. Also, Captain, don't pull out of here until I'm aboard. +I think I'd like to bring an assistant along, too." + +"An assistant?" Hansen asked. + +Candle twirled the ends of his long white moustache. "You, my lad, if you'd +like to go along." He pulled a letter from his pocket and fanned the air +with it. "I'm in complete command of this expedition--at least until His +Exalted Excellency gets home to plant his seed." + + * * * * * + +Hansen's face glowed. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do. Let's get a +couple of messages off to Sector Headquarters and get on board ship." + +"It may not be any joy ride," Candle said thoughtfully. "You probably +haven't heard about it, but there've been a number of ship emergencies in +the past few weeks." + +"Door failures?" + +"No. At least none that I've heard of. But at least two Hegler drives have +stopped working in mid space." + +"But, but there's nothing to stop working--" + +Candle's eyes twinkled. "No moving parts, eh?" + +Hansen reddened. "I hope I've outgrown that silly notion." + +Candle peered into Hansen's eyes. "I'm sure you have. I'm sure that you +will find out a lot more things for yourself. You're the kind. And we're +going to need a lot of your kind, because failures--failures of so-called +perfect mechanisms--are becoming more and more commonplace." Candle +pointed to the emergency light on the traffic control panel. "That light +will be flashing with more and more frequency in the months to come. But +not just to signal trouble in space. If I were a superstitious man, I'd +think that the age of the perfect machine is about to be superseded by the +age of the perfect failure--mechanical failures that can't be explained on +any level. I have several friends who've been in touch with me recently +about--" + +"You think that it's time for a change?" + +Candle smiled quickly. "That's the idea. And the truth of the matter is +that I _am_ a superstitious man. I really believe, childishly, that the +mechanics and motions of the galaxy may turn themselves upsidedown just to +snap man out of his apathy and give him some work to do." + + * * * * * + +Upsidedown turned out to be a good word. They boarded the big ship an hour +later and were respectfully ushered into the presence of Captain Fromer and +his staff. + +"We're underway," Captain Fromer said. "We'll be landing in nine days to +deliver R'thagna Bar home." + +"How is he?" Hansen asked. + +Fromer shrugged. "He's been thawed out, frozen, and thawed out so many +times, it's anybody's guess. Take a look for yourself." + +Someone pulled back a curtain to expose the recumbent, thawing, steamy form +of His Exhalted Excellency R'thagna Bar. + +"Why's he undressed?" Hansen asked. + +"Funny, now that you mention it," Fromer said, puzzled, "why _is_ he +undressed?" + +"Fascinating! Damnedest thing I've ever seen," Candle said. + +"What's so fascinating?" Fromer asked suspiciously, moving closer. + +"His belly. Never saw anything like it. Those black squares keep appearing +and disappearing. If I've ever seen a truly random pattern--" + +"It started right after they froze him the first time," Fromer said +disconsolately. + +"Fascinating, by Heaven," said Candle, who was now down on his hands and +knees. "Look at that top sequence! Random, yet physiological. I've got a +friend on Bridan III who'd trade anything for some photos of this. Get me +some photo equipment, will you?" + +Captain Fromer ran his hands through what was left of his hair. "Get him +some photo equipment," he said to no one in particular, "and somebody make +a truce with that idiot doctor long enough to get me a sedative." About +this time the ship turned upsidedown. + +"But there's no reason for it!" the chief engineer said, running +alongside Hansen and Candle. "The ship can't turn upsidedown. Everything +is functioning perfectly!" + +"Really not interested," said Candle, running down the corridor's mile-long +ceiling. "Figure something out for yourself for a change." + +"But what I can't understand," said Hansen, dutifully trotting alongside, +"is how you knew with such certainty how the door mechanism was made. Even +if submarines _were_ built like that, you'd have no way of knowing. There +haven't been any submarines in centuries." + +"The hell you say," said Candle, increasing his pace, "I built one five +years ago." + +"Built one! What for?" + +"For the hell of it, and it was a damned good outfit, too. I found plans in +an old museum, and had the good sense not to improve on 'em. Always +remember, boy, that something that really works can't be improved. That's +why the submarine mechanism was adopted--not adapted--for space. The +so-called 'better way' they're building 'em today is simply a disguise for +the fact that most of the gas is gone from our technology." + +"What happened to the submarine?" + +"Oh, I traded it to a friend for some falcons. You interested in falconry +by any chance?" + +"Er, no. Can't say that I am." + +"You will be," Candle said prophetically, "you'll succumb to every +enthusiasm man has ever been deviled with. You're the type. It's a +disease, boy, and the big symptom isn't just curiosity, but the kind +of intense curiosity that turns you inside out, devours you and ruins +you for orthodoxy." + + * * * * * + +Hansen had stopped listening. He was absorbed in trying to recall the +pattern he had pressed on his radio belt--a pattern never taught to +him--when the ship had suddenly turned upsidedown. Hesitantly, he played +with the notion that he had been _thinking_ of the ship traveling +upsidedown at the time he impressed the novel pattern on the belt. Now, +could that have possibly ... ? + +The man and the boy disappeared down the ceiling, running at top speed +to catch up as the rapidly vanishing form of R'thagna Bar was dragged and +pulled relentlessly toward the refrigerator in a tug of war between the +ship's wild, divided crew. + +"Fascinating!" said Candle. His eyes, glittering with their own peculiar +madness, remained riveted on the distant imperial belly. "Never saw +anything like it!" + + + THE END + + + + + TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES + + +This etext was produced from Amazing Science Fiction Stories May 1960. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on +this publication was renewed. + +The following corrections have been applied: + + Page 16: "{original omitted this quotation mark}You're especially + too young to know about one of the Federation's best kept + secrets. + + Page 16: Hansen said with some surprise{original had surprice}, + "Why, as a matter of fact, Sector Headquarters is sending some + help. + + Page 19: "I'm going to give you fifteen minutes, not + thirty{original had thiry}," Hansen said. + + Page 24: as the rapidly vanishing form of R'thagna Bar was + dragged and pulled relentlessly toward the refrigerator in a tug + of war between the ship's{original had ships'} wild, divided + crew. + +Pages 10, 11 and 19: All occurrences of "psuedo-met" have been changed to +"pseudo-met". + +The inconsistencies in the use of exalted/exhalted are as in the original. + +Ellipses have been formatted as in the original. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of No Moving Parts, by Murray F. 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