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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/27588-h.zip b/27588-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2796970 --- /dev/null +++ b/27588-h.zip diff --git a/27588-h/27588-h.htm b/27588-h/27588-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..97b565b --- /dev/null +++ b/27588-h/27588-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1626 @@ +<!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" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Jupiter Weapon, by Charles L. Fontenay</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; } + + p { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-align: justify; + } + + h1 { clear: both; + margin-top: 0em; + } + + hr { margin: 1.5em; visibility: hidden; } + + .heading { margin: auto auto 3em auto; width: 17em; font-family: sans-serif; } + + ins { text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 1px dashed #69F; } + + .center { text-align: center; } + .right { text-align: right; } + + .pagenum { position: absolute; + display: inline; + right: 13%; + font-size: x-small; + text-align: right; + color: #808080; + font-style: normal; + border: 1px solid silver; + padding: 1px 4px 1px 4px; + font-variant: normal; + font-weight: normal; + text-decoration: none; + text-indent: 0em; + } + + .dropcap:first-letter { font-size: 250%; + float: left; + margin: -0.15em 0.15em -0.15em 0em; + } + + #tnote { width: 30em; + border: 1px dashed #808080; + background-color: #f6f6f6; + text-align: justify; + padding-left: 0.75em; + padding-right: 0.75em; + margin: 120px auto 80px auto; + } +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Jupiter Weapon, by Charles Louis Fontenay + +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: The Jupiter Weapon + +Author: Charles Louis Fontenay + +Release Date: December 22, 2008 [EBook #27588] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JUPITER WEAPON *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Jana Srna and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div id="tnote"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></p> +<p>Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as +possible; changes (corrections of spelling and punctuation) made to +the original text are marked <ins title="transcriber's note">like this</ins>. +The original text appears when hovering the cursor over the marked text.</p> +<p>This e-text was produced from <cite>Amazing Science Fiction Stories</cite> March 1959. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. copyright on this +publication was renewed.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50">50</a></span></p> +<div class="heading"> +<h1>THE<br/> +JUPITER<br/> +WEAPON</h1> + +<p style="font-size: 1.25em;">By CHARLES L. FONTENAY</p> + +<p style="margin-top: 2em; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">He was a living weapon of<br/> +destruction—<ins title="immeasureably">immeasurably</ins><br/> +powerful, utterly invulnerable.<br/> +There was only one<br/> +question: Was he human?</p> +</div> + + +<p class="dropcap"><span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Trella</span> feared she was in +for trouble even before Motwick's +head dropped forward on +his arms in a drunken stupor. +The two evil-looking men at the +table nearby had been watching +her surreptitiously, and now +they shifted restlessly in their +chairs.</p> + +<p>Trella had not wanted to come +to the Golden Satellite. It was a +squalid saloon in the rougher +section of Jupiter's View, the +terrestrial dome-colony on Ganymede. +Motwick, <ins title="already,">already</ins> drunk, +had insisted.</p> + +<p>A woman could not possibly +make her way through these +streets alone to the better section +of town, especially one clad +in a silvery evening dress. Her +only hope was that this place +had a telephone. Perhaps she +could call one of Motwick's +friends; she had no one on Ganymede +she could call a real friend +herself.</p> + +<p>Tentatively, she pushed her +chair back from the table and +arose. She had to brush close by +the other table to get to the bar. +As she did, the dark, slick-haired +man reached out and grabbed +her around the waist with a +steely arm.</p> + +<p>Trella swung with her whole +body, and slapped him so hard +he nearly fell from his chair. As +she walked swiftly toward the +bar, he leaped up to follow her.</p> + +<p>There were only two other +people in the Golden Satellite: +the fat, mustached bartender +and a short, square-built man at +the bar. The latter swung +around at the pistol-like report +of her slap, and she saw that, +though no more than four and a +half feet tall, he was as heavily +muscled as a lion.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51">51</a></span> +His face was clean and open, +with close-cropped blond hair +and honest blue eyes. She ran to +him.</p> + +<p>“Help me!” she cried. “Please +help me!”</p> + +<p>He began to back away from +her.</p> + +<p>“I can't,” he muttered in a +deep voice. “I can't help you. I +can't do anything.”</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>The dark man was at her +heels. In desperation, she dodged +around the short man and took +refuge behind him. Her protector +was obviously unwilling, but +the dark man, faced with his +massiveness, took no chances. +He stopped and shouted:</p> + +<p>“Kregg!”</p> + +<p>The other man at the table +arose, ponderously, and lumbered +toward them. He was immense, +at least six and a half +feet tall, with a brutal, vacant +face.</p> + +<p>Evading her attempts to stay +behind him, the squat man began +to move down the bar away +from the approaching Kregg. +The dark man moved in on +Trella again as Kregg overtook +his quarry and swung a huge +fist like a sledgehammer.</p> + +<p>Exactly what happened, Trella +wasn't sure. She had the impression +that Kregg's fist connected +squarely with the short man's +chin <em>before</em> he dodged to one +side in a movement so fast it +was a blur. But that couldn't +have been, because the short +man wasn't moved by that blow +that would have felled a steer, +and Kregg roared in pain, grabbing +his injured fist.</p> + +<p>“The bar!” yelled Kregg. “I +hit the damn bar!”</p> + +<p>At this juncture, the bartender +took a hand. Leaning far +over the bar, he swung a full +bottle in a complete arc. It +smashed on Kregg's head, +splashing the floor with liquor, +and Kregg sank stunned to his +knees. The dark man, who had +grabbed Trella's arm, released +her and ran for the door.</p> + +<p>Moving agilely around the end +of the bar, the bartender stood +over Kregg, holding the jagged-edged +bottleneck in his hand +menacingly.</p> + +<p>“Get out!” rumbled the bartender. +“I'll have no coppers +raiding my place for the likes of +you!”</p> + +<p>Kregg stumbled to his feet +and staggered out. Trella ran to +the unconscious Motwick's side.</p> + +<p>“That means you, too, lady,” +said the bartender beside her. +“You and your boy friend get +out of here. You oughtn't to +have come here in the first +place.”</p> + +<p>“May I help you, Miss?” asked +a deep, resonant voice behind +her.</p> + +<p>She straightened from her +anxious examination of Motwick. +The squat man was standing +there, an apologetic look on +his face.</p> + +<p>She looked contemptuously at +the massive muscles whose help +had been denied her. Her arm +ached where the dark man had +grasped it. The broad face before +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52">52</a></span>her was not unhandsome, +and the blue eyes were disconcertingly +direct, but she despised +him for a coward.</p> + +<p>“I'm sorry I couldn't fight +those men for you, Miss, but I +just couldn't,” he said miserably, +as though reading her thoughts. +“But no one will bother you on +the street if I'm with you.”</p> + +<p>“A lot of protection you'd be +if they did!” she snapped. “But +I'm desperate. You can carry +him to the Stellar Hotel for me.”</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>The gravity of Ganymede was +hardly more than that of Earth's +moon, but the way the man +picked up the limp Motwick with +one hand and tossed him over a +shoulder was startling: as +though he lifted a feather pillow. +He followed Trella out the door +of the Golden Satellite and fell +in step beside her. Immediately +she was grateful for his presence. +The dimly lighted street +was not crowded, but she didn't +like the looks of the men she +saw.</p> + +<p>The transparent dome of Jupiter's +View was faintly visible +in the reflected night lights of +the colonial city, but the lights +were overwhelmed by the giant, +vari-colored disc of Jupiter itself, +riding high in the sky.</p> + +<p>“I'm Quest Mansard, Miss,” +said her companion. “I'm just in +from Jupiter.”</p> + +<p>“I'm Trella Nuspar,” she said, +favoring him with a green-eyed +glance. “You mean Io, don't you—or +Moon Five?”</p> + +<p>“No,” he said, grinning at +her. He had an engaging grin, +with even white teeth. “I meant +Jupiter.”</p> + +<p>“You're lying,” she said flatly. +“No one has ever landed on +Jupiter. It would be impossible +to blast off again.”</p> + +<p>“My parents landed on Jupiter, +and I blasted off from it,” +he said soberly. “I was born +there. Have you ever heard of +Dr. Eriklund Mansard?”</p> + +<p>“I certainly have,” she said, +her interest taking a sudden +upward turn. “He developed the +surgiscope, didn't he? But his +ship was drawn into Jupiter and +lost.”</p> + +<p>“It was drawn into Jupiter, +but he landed it successfully,” +said Quest. “He and my mother +lived on Jupiter until the oxygen +equipment wore out at last. I +was born and brought up there, +and I was finally able to build +a small rocket with a powerful +enough drive to clear the +planet.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him. He was +short, half a head shorter than +she, but broad and powerful as +a man might be who had grown +up in heavy gravity. He trod the +street with a light, controlled +step, seeming to deliberately +hold himself down.</p> + +<p>“If Dr. Mansard succeeded in +landing on Jupiter, why didn't +anyone ever hear from him +again?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>“Because,” said Quest, “his +radio was sabotaged, just as his +ship's drive was.”</p> + +<p>“Jupiter strength,” she murmured, +looking him over coolly. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53">53</a></span>“You wear Motwick on your +shoulder like a scarf. But you +couldn't bring yourself to help +a woman against two thugs.”</p> + +<p>He flushed.</p> + +<p>“I'm sorry,” he said. “That's +something I couldn't help.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“I don't know. It's not that +I'm afraid, but there's something +in me that makes me back +away from the prospect of fighting +anyone.”</p> + +<p>Trella sighed. Cowardice was +a state of mind. It was peculiarly +inappropriate, but not unbelievable, +that the strongest and +most agile man on Ganymede +should be a coward. Well, she +thought with a rush of sympathy, +he couldn't help being +what he was.</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>They had reached the more +brightly lighted section of the +city now. Trella could get a cab +from here, but the Stellar Hotel +wasn't far. They walked on.</p> + +<p>Trella had the desk clerk call +a cab to deliver the unconscious +Motwick to his home. She and +Quest had a late sandwich in the +coffee shop.</p> + +<p>“I landed here only a week +ago,” he told her, his eyes frankly +admiring her honey-colored +hair and comely face. “I'm heading +for Earth on the next spaceship.”</p> + +<p>“We'll be traveling companions, +then,” she said. “I'm going +back on that ship, too.”</p> + +<p>For some reason she decided +against telling him that the +assignment on which she had +come to the Jupiter system was +to gather his own father's notebooks +and take them back to +Earth.</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>Motwick was an irresponsible +playboy whom Trella had known +briefly on Earth, and Trella was +glad to dispense with his company +for the remaining three +weeks before the spaceship +blasted off. She found herself +enjoying the steadier companionship +of Quest.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, she found +herself enjoying his companionship +more than she intended to. +She found herself falling in love +with him.</p> + +<p>Now this did not suit her at +all. Trella had always liked her +men tall and dark. She had determined +that when she married +it would be to a curly-haired six-footer.</p> + +<p>She was not at all happy about +being so strongly attracted to a +man several inches shorter than +she. She was particularly unhappy +about feeling drawn to a +man who was a coward.</p> + +<p>The ship that they boarded on +Moon Nine was one of the newer +ships that could attain a hundred-mile-per-second +velocity +and take a hyperbolic path to +Earth, but it would still require +fifty-four days to make the trip. +So Trella was delighted to find +that the ship was the <i>Cometfire</i> +and its skipper was her old +friend, dark-eyed, curly-haired +Jakdane Gille.</p> + +<p>“Jakdane,” she said, flirting +with him with her eyes as in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54">54</a></span>days gone by, “I need a chaperon +this trip, and you're ideal for +the job.”</p> + +<p>“I never thought of myself in +quite that light, but maybe +I'm getting old,” he answered, +laughing. “What's your trouble, +Trella?”</p> + +<p>“I'm in love with that huge +chunk of man who came aboard +with me, and I'm not sure I +ought to be,” she confessed. “I +may need protection against myself +till we get to Earth.”</p> + +<p>“If it's to keep you out of another +fellow's clutches, I'm your +man,” agreed Jakdane heartily. +“I always had a mind to save +you for myself. I'll guarantee +you won't have a moment alone +with him the whole trip.”</p> + +<p>“You don't have to be that +thorough about it,” she protested +hastily. “I want to get a little +enjoyment out of being in love. +But if I feel myself weakening +too much, I'll holler for help.”</p> + +<p>The <i>Cometfire</i> swung around +great Jupiter in an opening arc +and plummeted ever more swiftly +toward the tight circles of the +inner planets. There were four +crew members and three passengers +aboard the ship's tiny personnel +sphere, and Trella was +thrown with Quest almost constantly. +She enjoyed every minute +of it.</p> + +<p>She told him only that she +was a messenger, sent out to +Ganymede to pick up some important +papers and take them +back to Earth. She was tempted +to tell him what the papers were. +Her employer had impressed upon +her that her mission was confidential, +but surely Dom <ins title="Blesssing">Blessing</ins> +could not object to Dr. +Mansard's son knowing about it.</p> + +<p>All these things had happened +before she was born, and she +did not know what Dom Blessing's +relation to Dr. Mansard +had been, but it must have been +very close. She knew that Dr. +Mansard had invented the surgiscope.</p> + +<p>This was an instrument with +a three-dimensional screen as its +heart. The screen was a cubical +frame in which an apparently +solid image was built up of an +object under an electron microscope.</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>The actual cutting instrument +of the surgiscope was an ion +stream. By operating a tool in +the three-dimensional screen, +corresponding movements were +made by the ion stream on the +object under the microscope. +The <ins title="principal">principle</ins> was the same as +that used in operation of remote +control “hands” in atomic laboratories +to handle hot material, +and with the surgiscope very +delicate operations could be performed +at the cellular level.</p> + +<p>Dr. Mansard and his wife had +disappeared into the turbulent +atmosphere of Jupiter just after +his invention of the surgiscope, +and it had been developed by +Dom Blessing. Its success had +built Spaceway Instruments, Incorporated, +which Blessing headed.</p> + +<p>Through all these years since +Dr. Mansard's disappearance, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55">55</a></span>Blessing had been searching the +Jovian moons for a second, hidden +laboratory of Dr. Mansard. +When it was found at last, he +sent Trella, his most trusted +secretary, to Ganymede to bring +back to him the notebooks found +there.</p> + +<p>Blessing would, of course, be +happy to learn that a son of Dr. +Mansard lived, and would see +that he received his rightful +share of the inheritance. Because +of this, Trella was tempted +to tell Quest the good news +herself; but she decided against +it. It was Blessing's privilege to +do this his own way, and he +might not appreciate her meddling.</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>At midtrip, Trella made a rueful +confession to Jakdane.</p> + +<p>“It seems I was taking unnecessary +precautions when I asked +you to be a chaperon,” she said. +“I kept waiting for Quest to do +something, and when he didn't +I told him I loved him.”</p> + +<p>“What did he say?”</p> + +<p>“It's very peculiar,” she said +unhappily. “He said he <em>can't</em> +love me. He said he wants to +love me and he feels that he +should, but there's something in +him that refuses to permit it.”</p> + +<p>She expected Jakdane to salve +her wounded feelings with a +sympathetic pleasantry, but he +did not. Instead, he just looked +at her very thoughtfully and +said no more about the matter.</p> + +<p>He explained his attitude +after Asrange ran amuck.</p> + +<p>Asrange was the third passenger. +He was a lean, saturnine +individual who said little and +kept to himself as much as possible. +He was distantly polite in +his relations with both crew and +other passengers, and never +showed the slightest spark of +emotion … until the day Quest +squirted coffee on him.</p> + +<p>It was one of those accidents +that can occur easily in space. +The passengers and the two +crewmen on that particular waking +shift (including Jakdane) +were eating lunch on the center-deck. +Quest picked up his bulb +of coffee, but inadvertently +pressed it before he got it to his +lips. The coffee squirted all over +the front of Asrange's clean +white tunic.</p> + +<p>“I'm sorry!” exclaimed Quest +in distress.</p> + +<p>The man's eyes went wide and +he snarled. So quickly it seemed +impossible, he had unbuckled +himself from his seat and hurled +himself backward from the table +with an incoherent cry. He +seized the first object his hand +touched—it happened to be a +heavy wooden cane leaning +against Jakdane's bunk—propelled +himself like a projectile at +Quest.</p> + +<p>Quest rose from the table in +a sudden uncoiling of movement. +He did not unbuckle his safety +belt—he rose and it snapped like +a string.</p> + +<p>For a moment Trella thought +he was going to meet Asrange's +assault. But he fled in a long +leap toward the companionway +leading to the astrogation deck +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56">56</a></span>above. Landing feet-first in the +middle of the table and rebounding, +Asrange pursued with the +stick upraised.</p> + +<p>In his haste, Quest missed the +companionway in his leap and +was cornered against one of the +bunks. Asrange descended on +him like an avenging angel and, +holding onto the bunk with one +hand, rained savage blows on his +head and shoulders with the +heavy stick.</p> + +<p>Quest made no effort to retaliate. +He cowered under the attack, +holding his hands in front +of him as if to ward it off. In a +moment, Jakdane and the other +crewman had reached Asrange +and pulled him off.</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>When they had Asrange in +irons, Jakdane turned to Quest, +who was now sitting unhappily +at the table.</p> + +<p>“Take it easy,” he advised. +“I'll wake the psychosurgeon +and have him look you over. Just +stay there.”</p> + +<p>Quest shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Don't bother him,” he said. +“It's nothing but a few bruises.”</p> + +<p>“Bruises? Man, that club +could have broken your skull! +Or a couple of ribs, at the very +least.”</p> + +<p>“I'm all right,” insisted +Quest; and when the skeptical +Jakdane insisted on examining +him carefully, he had to admit +it. There was hardly a mark on +him from the blows.</p> + +<p>“If it didn't hurt you any +more than that, why didn't you +take that stick away from him?” +demanded Jakdane. “You could +have, easily.”</p> + +<p>“I couldn't,” said Quest miserably, +and turned his face +away.</p> + +<p>Later, alone with Trella on +the control deck, Jakdane gave +her some sober advice.</p> + +<p>“If you think you're in love +with Quest, forget it,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Why? Because he's a coward? +I know that ought to make +me despise him, but it doesn't +any more.”</p> + +<p>“Not because he's a coward. +Because he's an android!”</p> + +<p>“What? Jakdane, you can't be +serious!”</p> + +<p>“I am. I say he's an android, +an artificial imitation of a man. +It all figures.</p> + +<p>“Look, Trella, he said he was +born on Jupiter. A human could +stand the gravity of Jupiter, inside +a dome or a ship, but what +human could stand the rocket acceleration +necessary to break +free of Jupiter? Here's a man +strong enough to break a spaceship +safety belt just by getting +up out of his chair against it, +tough enough to take a beating +with a heavy stick without being +injured. How can you believe +he's really human?”</p> + +<p>Trella remembered the thug +Kregg striking Quest in the face +and then crying that he had injured +his hand on the bar.</p> + +<p>“But he said Dr. Mansard was +his father,” protested Trella.</p> + +<p>“Robots and androids frequently +look on their makers as +their parents,” said Jakdane. +“Quest may not even know he's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57">57</a></span>artificial. Do you know how +Mansard died?”</p> + +<p>“The oxygen equipment failed, +Quest said.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Do you know when?”</p> + +<p>“No. Quest never did tell me, +that I remember.”</p> + +<p>“He told me: a year before +Quest made his rocket flight to +Ganymede! If the oxygen equipment +failed, how do you think +<em>Quest</em> lived in the poisonous atmosphere +of Jupiter, if he's human?”</p> + +<p>Trella was silent.</p> + +<p>“For the protection of humans, +there are two psychological +traits built into every robot +and android,” said Jakdane +gently. “The first is that they +can never, under any circumstances, +attack a human being, +even in self defense. The second +is that, while they may understand +sexual desire objectively, +they can never experience it +themselves.</p> + +<p>“Those characteristics fit your +man Quest to a T, Trella. There +is no other explanation for him: +he must be an android.”</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>Trella did not want to believe +Jakdane was right, but his reasoning +was unassailable. Looking +upon Quest as an android, +many things were explained: his +great strength, his short, broad +build, his immunity to injury, +his refusal to defend himself +against a human, his inability to +return Trella's love for him.</p> + +<p>It was not inconceivable that +she should have unknowingly +fallen in love with an android. +Humans could love androids, +with real affection, even knowing +that they were artificial. +There were instances of android +nursemaids who were virtually +members of the families owning +them.</p> + +<p>She was glad now that she +had not told Quest of her mission +to Ganymede. He thought +he was Dr. Mansard's son, but +an android had no legal right of +inheritance from his owner. She +would leave it to Dom Blessing +to decide what to do about Quest.</p> + +<p>Thus she did not, as she had +intended originally, speak to +Quest about seeing him again +after she had completed her assignment. +Even if Jakdane was +wrong and Quest was human—as +now seemed unlikely—Quest +had told her he could not love +her. Her best course was to try +to forget him.</p> + +<p>Nor did Quest try to arrange +with her for a later meeting.</p> + +<p>“It has been pleasant knowing +you, Trella,” he said when they +left the G-boat at White Sands. +A faraway look came into his +blue eyes, and he added: “I'm +sorry things couldn't have been +different, somehow.”</p> + +<p>“Let's don't be sorry for what +we can't help,” she said gently, +taking his hand in farewell.</p> + +<p>Trella took a fast plane from +White Sands, and twenty-four +hours later walked up the front +steps of the familiar brownstone +house on the outskirts of Washington.</p> + +<p>Dom Blessing himself met her +at the door, a stooped, graying +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58">58</a></span>man who peered at her over his +spectacles.</p> + +<p>“You have the papers, eh?” +he said, spying the brief case. +“Good, good. Come in and we'll +see what we have, eh?”</p> + +<p>She accompanied him through +the bare, windowless anteroom +which had always seemed to her +such a strange feature of this +luxurious house, and they entered +the big living room. They sat +before a fire in the old-fashioned +fireplace and Blessing opened the +brief case with trembling hands.</p> + +<p>“There are things here,” he +said, his eyes sparkling as he +glanced through the notebooks. +“Yes, there are things here. We +shall make something of these, +Miss Trella, eh?”</p> + +<p>“I'm glad they're something +you can use, Mr. Blessing,” she +said. “There's something else I +found on my trip, that I think +I should tell you about.”</p> + +<p>She told him about Quest.</p> + +<p>“He thinks he's the son of Dr. +Mansard,” she finished, “but apparently +he is, without knowing +it, an android Dr. Mansard built +on Jupiter.”</p> + +<p>“He came back to Earth with +you, eh?” asked Blessing intently.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I'm afraid it's your decision +whether to let him go on +living as a man or to tell him +he's an android and claim ownership +as Dr. Mansard's heir.”</p> + +<p>Trella planned to spend a few +days resting in her employer's +spacious home, and then to take +a short vacation before resuming +her duties as his confidential +secretary. The next morning +when she came down from her +room, a change had been made.</p> + +<p>Two armed men were with +Dom Blessing at breakfast and +accompanied him wherever he +went. She discovered that two +more men with guns were stationed +in the bare anteroom and +a guard was stationed at every +entrance to the house.</p> + +<p>“Why all the protection?” she +asked Blessing.</p> + +<p>“A wealthy man must be careful,” +said Blessing cheerfully. +“When we don't understand all +the implications of new circumstances, +we must be prepared for +anything, eh?”</p> + +<p>There was only one new circumstance +Trella could think +of. Without actually intending +to, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“You aren't afraid of Quest? +Why, an android can't hurt a +human!”</p> + +<p>Blessing peered at her over his +spectacles.</p> + +<p>“And what if he isn't an android, +eh? And if he is—what if +old Mansard didn't build in the +prohibition against harming humans +that's required by law? +What about that, eh?”</p> + +<p>Trella was silent, shocked. +There was something here she +hadn't known about, hadn't even +suspected. For some reason, Dom +Blessing feared Dr. Eriklund +Mansard … or his heir … or +his mechanical servant.</p> + +<hr/> + +<p>She was sure that Blessing +was wrong, that Quest, whether +man or android, intended no +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59">59</a></span>harm to him. Surely, Quest +would have said something of +such bitterness during their long +time together on Ganymede and +aspace, since he did not know of +Trella's connection with Blessing. +But, since this was to be +the atmosphere of Blessing's +house, she was glad that he decided +to assign her to take the +Mansard papers to the New +York laboratory.</p> + +<p>Quest came the day before she +was scheduled to leave.</p> + +<p>Trella was in the living room +with Blessing, discussing the instructions +she was to give to the +laboratory officials in New York. +The two bodyguards were with +them. The other guards were at +their posts.</p> + +<p>Trella heard the doorbell ring. +The heavy oaken front door was +kept locked now, and the guards +in the anteroom examined callers +through a tiny window.</p> + +<p>Suddenly alarm bells rang all +over the house. There was a terrific +crash outside the room as +the front door splintered. There +were shouts and the sound of a +shot.</p> + +<p>“The steel doors!” cried Blessing, +turning white. “Let's get +out of here.”</p> + +<p>He and his bodyguards ran +through the back of the house +out of the garage.</p> + +<p>Blessing, ahead of the rest, +leaped into one of the cars and +started the engine.</p> + +<p>The door from the house shattered +and Quest burst through. +The two guards turned and fired +together.</p> + +<p>He could be hurt by bullets. +He was staggered momentarily.</p> + +<p>Then, in a blur of motion, he +sprang forward and swept the +guards aside with one hand with +such force that they skidded +across the floor and lay in an +unconscious heap against the +rear of the garage. Trella had +opened the door of the car, but +it was wrenched from her hand +as Blessing stepped on the accelerator +and it leaped into the +driveway with spinning wheels.</p> + +<p>Quest was after it, like a +chunky deer, running faster +than Trella had ever seen a man +run before.</p> + +<p>Blessing slowed for the turn +at the end of the driveway and +glanced back over his shoulder. +Seeing Quest almost upon him, +he slammed down the accelerator +and twisted the wheel hard.</p> + +<p>The car whipped into the +street, careened, and rolled over +and over, bringing up against a +tree on the other side in a twisted +tangle of wreckage.</p> + +<p>With a horrified gasp, Trella +ran down the driveway toward +the smoking heap of metal. +Quest was already beside it, +probing it. As she reached his +side, he lifted the torn body of +Dom Blessing. Blessing was +dead.</p> + +<p>“I'm lucky,” said Quest soberly. +“I would have murdered +him.”</p> + +<p>“But why, Quest? I knew he +was afraid of you, but he didn't +tell me why.”</p> + +<p>“It was conditioned into me,” +answered Quest “I didn't know +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60">60</a></span>it until just now, when it ended, +but my father conditioned me +psychologically from my birth +to the task of hunting down +Dom Blessing and killing him. It +was an unconscious drive in me +that wouldn't release me until +the task was finished.</p> + +<p>“You see, Blessing was my father's +assistant on Ganymede. +Right after my father completed +development of the surgiscope, +he and my mother blasted off for +Io. Blessing wanted the valuable +rights to the surgiscope, and he +sabotaged the ship's drive so it +would fall into Jupiter.</p> + +<p>“But my father was able to +control it in the heavy atmosphere +of Jupiter, and landed it +successfully. I was born there, +and he conditioned me to come +to Earth and track down Blessing. +I know now that it was +part of the conditioning that I +was unable to fight any other +man until my task was finished: +it might have gotten me in trouble +and diverted me from that +purpose.”</p> + +<p>More gently than Trella would +have believed possible for his +Jupiter-strong muscles, Quest +took her in his arms.</p> + +<p>“Now I can say I love you,” +he said. “That was part of the +conditioning too: I couldn't love +any woman until my job was +done.”</p> + +<p>Trella disengaged herself.</p> + +<p>“I'm sorry,” she said. “Don't +you know this, too, now: that +you're not a man, but an android?”</p> + +<p>He looked at her in astonishment, +stunned by her words.</p> + +<p>“What in space makes you +think that?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Why, Quest, it's obvious,” +she cried, tears in her eyes. +“Everything about you … your +build, suited for Jupiter's gravity … +your strength … the +fact that you were able to live +in Jupiter's atmosphere after +the oxygen equipment failed. +I know you think Dr. Mansard +was your father, but androids +often believe that.”</p> + +<p>He grinned at her.</p> + +<p>“I'm no android,” he said confidently. +“Do you forget my father +was inventor of the surgiscope? +He knew I'd have to grow +up on Jupiter, and he operated +on the genes before I was born. +He altered my inherited characteristics +to adapt me to the climate +of Jupiter … even to +being able to breathe a chlorine +atmosphere as well as an oxygen +atmosphere.”</p> + +<p>Trella looked at him. He was +not badly hurt, any more than +an elephant would have been, +but his tunic was stained with +red blood where the bullets had +struck him. Normal android +blood was green.</p> + +<p>“How can you be sure?” she +asked doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“Androids are made,” he answered +with a laugh. “They +don't grow up. And I remember +my boyhood on Jupiter very +well.”</p> + +<p>He took her in his arms again, +and this time she did not resist. +His lips were very human.</p> + +<p class="right" style="font-family: sans-serif; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 120px;">THE END</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Jupiter Weapon, by Charles Louis Fontenay + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JUPITER WEAPON *** + +***** This file should be named 27588-h.htm or 27588-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/5/8/27588/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Jana Srna 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: The Jupiter Weapon + +Author: Charles Louis Fontenay + +Release Date: December 22, 2008 [EBook #27588] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JUPITER WEAPON *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Jana Srna and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + [ Transcriber's Note: + This etext was produced from "Amazing Science Fiction Stories" March + 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as + possible; changes (corrections of spelling and punctuation) made to + the original text are listed at the end of this file. + ] + + + THE + JUPITER + WEAPON + + By CHARLES L. FONTENAY + + + He was a living weapon of + destruction--immeasurably + powerful, utterly invulnerable. + There was only one + question: Was he human? + + +Trella feared she was in for trouble even before Motwick's head dropped +forward on his arms in a drunken stupor. The two evil-looking men at the +table nearby had been watching her surreptitiously, and now they shifted +restlessly in their chairs. + +Trella had not wanted to come to the Golden Satellite. It was a squalid +saloon in the rougher section of Jupiter's View, the terrestrial +dome-colony on Ganymede. Motwick, already drunk, had insisted. + +A woman could not possibly make her way through these streets alone to +the better section of town, especially one clad in a silvery evening +dress. Her only hope was that this place had a telephone. Perhaps she +could call one of Motwick's friends; she had no one on Ganymede she +could call a real friend herself. + +Tentatively, she pushed her chair back from the table and arose. She had +to brush close by the other table to get to the bar. As she did, the +dark, slick-haired man reached out and grabbed her around the waist with +a steely arm. + +Trella swung with her whole body, and slapped him so hard he nearly fell +from his chair. As she walked swiftly toward the bar, he leaped up to +follow her. + +There were only two other people in the Golden Satellite: the fat, +mustached bartender and a short, square-built man at the bar. The latter +swung around at the pistol-like report of her slap, and she saw that, +though no more than four and a half feet tall, he was as heavily muscled +as a lion. + +His face was clean and open, with close-cropped blond hair and honest +blue eyes. She ran to him. + +"Help me!" she cried. "Please help me!" + +He began to back away from her. + +"I can't," he muttered in a deep voice. "I can't help you. I can't do +anything." + + * * * * * + +The dark man was at her heels. In desperation, she dodged around the +short man and took refuge behind him. Her protector was obviously +unwilling, but the dark man, faced with his massiveness, took no +chances. He stopped and shouted: + +"Kregg!" + +The other man at the table arose, ponderously, and lumbered toward them. +He was immense, at least six and a half feet tall, with a brutal, vacant +face. + +Evading her attempts to stay behind him, the squat man began to move +down the bar away from the approaching Kregg. The dark man moved in on +Trella again as Kregg overtook his quarry and swung a huge fist like a +sledgehammer. + +Exactly what happened, Trella wasn't sure. She had the impression that +Kregg's fist connected squarely with the short man's chin _before_ he +dodged to one side in a movement so fast it was a blur. But that +couldn't have been, because the short man wasn't moved by that blow that +would have felled a steer, and Kregg roared in pain, grabbing his +injured fist. + +"The bar!" yelled Kregg. "I hit the damn bar!" + +At this juncture, the bartender took a hand. Leaning far over the bar, +he swung a full bottle in a complete arc. It smashed on Kregg's head, +splashing the floor with liquor, and Kregg sank stunned to his knees. +The dark man, who had grabbed Trella's arm, released her and ran for the +door. + +Moving agilely around the end of the bar, the bartender stood over +Kregg, holding the jagged-edged bottleneck in his hand menacingly. + +"Get out!" rumbled the bartender. "I'll have no coppers raiding my place +for the likes of you!" + +Kregg stumbled to his feet and staggered out. Trella ran to the +unconscious Motwick's side. + +"That means you, too, lady," said the bartender beside her. "You and +your boy friend get out of here. You oughtn't to have come here in the +first place." + +"May I help you, Miss?" asked a deep, resonant voice behind her. + +She straightened from her anxious examination of Motwick. The squat man +was standing there, an apologetic look on his face. + +She looked contemptuously at the massive muscles whose help had been +denied her. Her arm ached where the dark man had grasped it. The broad +face before her was not unhandsome, and the blue eyes were +disconcertingly direct, but she despised him for a coward. + +"I'm sorry I couldn't fight those men for you, Miss, but I just +couldn't," he said miserably, as though reading her thoughts. "But no +one will bother you on the street if I'm with you." + +"A lot of protection you'd be if they did!" she snapped. "But I'm +desperate. You can carry him to the Stellar Hotel for me." + + * * * * * + +The gravity of Ganymede was hardly more than that of Earth's moon, but +the way the man picked up the limp Motwick with one hand and tossed him +over a shoulder was startling: as though he lifted a feather pillow. He +followed Trella out the door of the Golden Satellite and fell in step +beside her. Immediately she was grateful for his presence. The dimly +lighted street was not crowded, but she didn't like the looks of the men +she saw. + +The transparent dome of Jupiter's View was faintly visible in the +reflected night lights of the colonial city, but the lights were +overwhelmed by the giant, vari-colored disc of Jupiter itself, riding +high in the sky. + +"I'm Quest Mansard, Miss," said her companion. "I'm just in from +Jupiter." + +"I'm Trella Nuspar," she said, favoring him with a green-eyed glance. +"You mean Io, don't you--or Moon Five?" + +"No," he said, grinning at her. He had an engaging grin, with even white +teeth. "I meant Jupiter." + +"You're lying," she said flatly. "No one has ever landed on Jupiter. It +would be impossible to blast off again." + +"My parents landed on Jupiter, and I blasted off from it," he said +soberly. "I was born there. Have you ever heard of Dr. Eriklund +Mansard?" + +"I certainly have," she said, her interest taking a sudden upward turn. +"He developed the surgiscope, didn't he? But his ship was drawn into +Jupiter and lost." + +"It was drawn into Jupiter, but he landed it successfully," said Quest. +"He and my mother lived on Jupiter until the oxygen equipment wore out +at last. I was born and brought up there, and I was finally able to +build a small rocket with a powerful enough drive to clear the planet." + +She looked at him. He was short, half a head shorter than she, but broad +and powerful as a man might be who had grown up in heavy gravity. He +trod the street with a light, controlled step, seeming to deliberately +hold himself down. + +"If Dr. Mansard succeeded in landing on Jupiter, why didn't anyone ever +hear from him again?" she demanded. + +"Because," said Quest, "his radio was sabotaged, just as his ship's +drive was." + +"Jupiter strength," she murmured, looking him over coolly. "You wear +Motwick on your shoulder like a scarf. But you couldn't bring yourself +to help a woman against two thugs." + +He flushed. + +"I'm sorry," he said. "That's something I couldn't help." + +"Why not?" + +"I don't know. It's not that I'm afraid, but there's something in me +that makes me back away from the prospect of fighting anyone." + +Trella sighed. Cowardice was a state of mind. It was peculiarly +inappropriate, but not unbelievable, that the strongest and most agile +man on Ganymede should be a coward. Well, she thought with a rush of +sympathy, he couldn't help being what he was. + + * * * * * + +They had reached the more brightly lighted section of the city now. +Trella could get a cab from here, but the Stellar Hotel wasn't far. They +walked on. + +Trella had the desk clerk call a cab to deliver the unconscious Motwick +to his home. She and Quest had a late sandwich in the coffee shop. + +"I landed here only a week ago," he told her, his eyes frankly admiring +her honey-colored hair and comely face. "I'm heading for Earth on the +next spaceship." + +"We'll be traveling companions, then," she said. "I'm going back on that +ship, too." + +For some reason she decided against telling him that the assignment on +which she had come to the Jupiter system was to gather his own father's +notebooks and take them back to Earth. + + * * * * * + +Motwick was an irresponsible playboy whom Trella had known briefly on +Earth, and Trella was glad to dispense with his company for the +remaining three weeks before the spaceship blasted off. She found +herself enjoying the steadier companionship of Quest. + +As a matter of fact, she found herself enjoying his companionship more +than she intended to. She found herself falling in love with him. + +Now this did not suit her at all. Trella had always liked her men tall +and dark. She had determined that when she married it would be to a +curly-haired six-footer. + +She was not at all happy about being so strongly attracted to a man +several inches shorter than she. She was particularly unhappy about +feeling drawn to a man who was a coward. + +The ship that they boarded on Moon Nine was one of the newer ships that +could attain a hundred-mile-per-second velocity and take a hyperbolic +path to Earth, but it would still require fifty-four days to make the +trip. So Trella was delighted to find that the ship was the _Cometfire_ +and its skipper was her old friend, dark-eyed, curly-haired Jakdane +Gille. + +"Jakdane," she said, flirting with him with her eyes as in days gone +by, "I need a chaperon this trip, and you're ideal for the job." + +"I never thought of myself in quite that light, but maybe I'm getting +old," he answered, laughing. "What's your trouble, Trella?" + +"I'm in love with that huge chunk of man who came aboard with me, and +I'm not sure I ought to be," she confessed. "I may need protection +against myself till we get to Earth." + +"If it's to keep you out of another fellow's clutches, I'm your man," +agreed Jakdane heartily. "I always had a mind to save you for myself. +I'll guarantee you won't have a moment alone with him the whole trip." + +"You don't have to be that thorough about it," she protested hastily. "I +want to get a little enjoyment out of being in love. But if I feel +myself weakening too much, I'll holler for help." + +The _Cometfire_ swung around great Jupiter in an opening arc and +plummeted ever more swiftly toward the tight circles of the inner +planets. There were four crew members and three passengers aboard the +ship's tiny personnel sphere, and Trella was thrown with Quest almost +constantly. She enjoyed every minute of it. + +She told him only that she was a messenger, sent out to Ganymede to pick +up some important papers and take them back to Earth. She was tempted to +tell him what the papers were. Her employer had impressed upon her that +her mission was confidential, but surely Dom Blessing could not object +to Dr. Mansard's son knowing about it. + +All these things had happened before she was born, and she did not know +what Dom Blessing's relation to Dr. Mansard had been, but it must have +been very close. She knew that Dr. Mansard had invented the surgiscope. + +This was an instrument with a three-dimensional screen as its heart. The +screen was a cubical frame in which an apparently solid image was built +up of an object under an electron microscope. + + * * * * * + +The actual cutting instrument of the surgiscope was an ion stream. By +operating a tool in the three-dimensional screen, corresponding +movements were made by the ion stream on the object under the +microscope. The principle was the same as that used in operation of +remote control "hands" in atomic laboratories to handle hot material, +and with the surgiscope very delicate operations could be performed at +the cellular level. + +Dr. Mansard and his wife had disappeared into the turbulent atmosphere +of Jupiter just after his invention of the surgiscope, and it had been +developed by Dom Blessing. Its success had built Spaceway Instruments, +Incorporated, which Blessing headed. + +Through all these years since Dr. Mansard's disappearance, Blessing had +been searching the Jovian moons for a second, hidden laboratory of Dr. +Mansard. When it was found at last, he sent Trella, his most trusted +secretary, to Ganymede to bring back to him the notebooks found there. + +Blessing would, of course, be happy to learn that a son of Dr. Mansard +lived, and would see that he received his rightful share of the +inheritance. Because of this, Trella was tempted to tell Quest the good +news herself; but she decided against it. It was Blessing's privilege to +do this his own way, and he might not appreciate her meddling. + + * * * * * + +At midtrip, Trella made a rueful confession to Jakdane. + +"It seems I was taking unnecessary precautions when I asked you to be a +chaperon," she said. "I kept waiting for Quest to do something, and when +he didn't I told him I loved him." + +"What did he say?" + +"It's very peculiar," she said unhappily. "He said he _can't_ love me. +He said he wants to love me and he feels that he should, but there's +something in him that refuses to permit it." + +She expected Jakdane to salve her wounded feelings with a sympathetic +pleasantry, but he did not. Instead, he just looked at her very +thoughtfully and said no more about the matter. + +He explained his attitude after Asrange ran amuck. + +Asrange was the third passenger. He was a lean, saturnine individual who +said little and kept to himself as much as possible. He was distantly +polite in his relations with both crew and other passengers, and never +showed the slightest spark of emotion ... until the day Quest squirted +coffee on him. + +It was one of those accidents that can occur easily in space. The +passengers and the two crewmen on that particular waking shift +(including Jakdane) were eating lunch on the center-deck. Quest picked +up his bulb of coffee, but inadvertently pressed it before he got it to +his lips. The coffee squirted all over the front of Asrange's clean +white tunic. + +"I'm sorry!" exclaimed Quest in distress. + +The man's eyes went wide and he snarled. So quickly it seemed +impossible, he had unbuckled himself from his seat and hurled himself +backward from the table with an incoherent cry. He seized the first +object his hand touched--it happened to be a heavy wooden cane leaning +against Jakdane's bunk--propelled himself like a projectile at Quest. + +Quest rose from the table in a sudden uncoiling of movement. He did not +unbuckle his safety belt--he rose and it snapped like a string. + +For a moment Trella thought he was going to meet Asrange's assault. But +he fled in a long leap toward the companionway leading to the +astrogation deck above. Landing feet-first in the middle of the table +and rebounding, Asrange pursued with the stick upraised. + +In his haste, Quest missed the companionway in his leap and was cornered +against one of the bunks. Asrange descended on him like an avenging +angel and, holding onto the bunk with one hand, rained savage blows on +his head and shoulders with the heavy stick. + +Quest made no effort to retaliate. He cowered under the attack, holding +his hands in front of him as if to ward it off. In a moment, Jakdane and +the other crewman had reached Asrange and pulled him off. + + * * * * * + +When they had Asrange in irons, Jakdane turned to Quest, who was now +sitting unhappily at the table. + +"Take it easy," he advised. "I'll wake the psychosurgeon and have him +look you over. Just stay there." + +Quest shook his head. + +"Don't bother him," he said. "It's nothing but a few bruises." + +"Bruises? Man, that club could have broken your skull! Or a couple of +ribs, at the very least." + +"I'm all right," insisted Quest; and when the skeptical Jakdane insisted +on examining him carefully, he had to admit it. There was hardly a mark +on him from the blows. + +"If it didn't hurt you any more than that, why didn't you take that +stick away from him?" demanded Jakdane. "You could have, easily." + +"I couldn't," said Quest miserably, and turned his face away. + +Later, alone with Trella on the control deck, Jakdane gave her some +sober advice. + +"If you think you're in love with Quest, forget it," he said. + +"Why? Because he's a coward? I know that ought to make me despise him, +but it doesn't any more." + +"Not because he's a coward. Because he's an android!" + +"What? Jakdane, you can't be serious!" + +"I am. I say he's an android, an artificial imitation of a man. It all +figures. + +"Look, Trella, he said he was born on Jupiter. A human could stand the +gravity of Jupiter, inside a dome or a ship, but what human could stand +the rocket acceleration necessary to break free of Jupiter? Here's a man +strong enough to break a spaceship safety belt just by getting up out of +his chair against it, tough enough to take a beating with a heavy stick +without being injured. How can you believe he's really human?" + +Trella remembered the thug Kregg striking Quest in the face and then +crying that he had injured his hand on the bar. + +"But he said Dr. Mansard was his father," protested Trella. + +"Robots and androids frequently look on their makers as their parents," +said Jakdane. "Quest may not even know he's artificial. Do you know how +Mansard died?" + +"The oxygen equipment failed, Quest said." + +"Yes. Do you know when?" + +"No. Quest never did tell me, that I remember." + +"He told me: a year before Quest made his rocket flight to Ganymede! If +the oxygen equipment failed, how do you think _Quest_ lived in the +poisonous atmosphere of Jupiter, if he's human?" + +Trella was silent. + +"For the protection of humans, there are two psychological traits built +into every robot and android," said Jakdane gently. "The first is that +they can never, under any circumstances, attack a human being, even in +self defense. The second is that, while they may understand sexual +desire objectively, they can never experience it themselves. + +"Those characteristics fit your man Quest to a T, Trella. There is no +other explanation for him: he must be an android." + + * * * * * + +Trella did not want to believe Jakdane was right, but his reasoning +was unassailable. Looking upon Quest as an android, many things were +explained: his great strength, his short, broad build, his immunity to +injury, his refusal to defend himself against a human, his inability +to return Trella's love for him. + +It was not inconceivable that she should have unknowingly fallen in love +with an android. Humans could love androids, with real affection, even +knowing that they were artificial. There were instances of android +nursemaids who were virtually members of the families owning them. + +She was glad now that she had not told Quest of her mission to Ganymede. +He thought he was Dr. Mansard's son, but an android had no legal right +of inheritance from his owner. She would leave it to Dom Blessing to +decide what to do about Quest. + +Thus she did not, as she had intended originally, speak to Quest about +seeing him again after she had completed her assignment. Even if Jakdane +was wrong and Quest was human--as now seemed unlikely--Quest had told +her he could not love her. Her best course was to try to forget him. + +Nor did Quest try to arrange with her for a later meeting. + +"It has been pleasant knowing you, Trella," he said when they left the +G-boat at White Sands. A faraway look came into his blue eyes, and he +added: "I'm sorry things couldn't have been different, somehow." + +"Let's don't be sorry for what we can't help," she said gently, taking +his hand in farewell. + +Trella took a fast plane from White Sands, and twenty-four hours later +walked up the front steps of the familiar brownstone house on the +outskirts of Washington. + +Dom Blessing himself met her at the door, a stooped, graying man who +peered at her over his spectacles. + +"You have the papers, eh?" he said, spying the brief case. "Good, good. +Come in and we'll see what we have, eh?" + +She accompanied him through the bare, windowless anteroom which had +always seemed to her such a strange feature of this luxurious house, +and they entered the big living room. They sat before a fire in the +old-fashioned fireplace and Blessing opened the brief case with +trembling hands. + +"There are things here," he said, his eyes sparkling as he glanced +through the notebooks. "Yes, there are things here. We shall make +something of these, Miss Trella, eh?" + +"I'm glad they're something you can use, Mr. Blessing," she said. +"There's something else I found on my trip, that I think I should tell +you about." + +She told him about Quest. + +"He thinks he's the son of Dr. Mansard," she finished, "but apparently +he is, without knowing it, an android Dr. Mansard built on Jupiter." + +"He came back to Earth with you, eh?" asked Blessing intently. + +"Yes. I'm afraid it's your decision whether to let him go on living as a +man or to tell him he's an android and claim ownership as Dr. Mansard's +heir." + +Trella planned to spend a few days resting in her employer's spacious +home, and then to take a short vacation before resuming her duties as +his confidential secretary. The next morning when she came down from her +room, a change had been made. + +Two armed men were with Dom Blessing at breakfast and accompanied him +wherever he went. She discovered that two more men with guns were +stationed in the bare anteroom and a guard was stationed at every +entrance to the house. + +"Why all the protection?" she asked Blessing. + +"A wealthy man must be careful," said Blessing cheerfully. "When we +don't understand all the implications of new circumstances, we must be +prepared for anything, eh?" + +There was only one new circumstance Trella could think of. Without +actually intending to, she exclaimed: + +"You aren't afraid of Quest? Why, an android can't hurt a human!" + +Blessing peered at her over his spectacles. + +"And what if he isn't an android, eh? And if he is--what if old Mansard +didn't build in the prohibition against harming humans that's required +by law? What about that, eh?" + +Trella was silent, shocked. There was something here she hadn't known +about, hadn't even suspected. For some reason, Dom Blessing feared Dr. +Eriklund Mansard ... or his heir ... or his mechanical servant. + + * * * * * + +She was sure that Blessing was wrong, that Quest, whether man or android, +intended no harm to him. Surely, Quest would have said something of +such bitterness during their long time together on Ganymede and aspace, +since he did not know of Trella's connection with Blessing. But, since +this was to be the atmosphere of Blessing's house, she was glad that he +decided to assign her to take the Mansard papers to the New York +laboratory. + +Quest came the day before she was scheduled to leave. + +Trella was in the living room with Blessing, discussing the instructions +she was to give to the laboratory officials in New York. The two +bodyguards were with them. The other guards were at their posts. + +Trella heard the doorbell ring. The heavy oaken front door was kept +locked now, and the guards in the anteroom examined callers through a +tiny window. + +Suddenly alarm bells rang all over the house. There was a terrific crash +outside the room as the front door splintered. There were shouts and the +sound of a shot. + +"The steel doors!" cried Blessing, turning white. "Let's get out of +here." + +He and his bodyguards ran through the back of the house out of the +garage. + +Blessing, ahead of the rest, leaped into one of the cars and started the +engine. + +The door from the house shattered and Quest burst through. The two +guards turned and fired together. + +He could be hurt by bullets. He was staggered momentarily. + +Then, in a blur of motion, he sprang forward and swept the guards aside +with one hand with such force that they skidded across the floor and lay +in an unconscious heap against the rear of the garage. Trella had opened +the door of the car, but it was wrenched from her hand as Blessing +stepped on the accelerator and it leaped into the driveway with spinning +wheels. + +Quest was after it, like a chunky deer, running faster than Trella had +ever seen a man run before. + +Blessing slowed for the turn at the end of the driveway and glanced back +over his shoulder. Seeing Quest almost upon him, he slammed down the +accelerator and twisted the wheel hard. + +The car whipped into the street, careened, and rolled over and over, +bringing up against a tree on the other side in a twisted tangle of +wreckage. + +With a horrified gasp, Trella ran down the driveway toward the smoking +heap of metal. Quest was already beside it, probing it. As she reached +his side, he lifted the torn body of Dom Blessing. Blessing was dead. + +"I'm lucky," said Quest soberly. "I would have murdered him." + +"But why, Quest? I knew he was afraid of you, but he didn't tell me +why." + +"It was conditioned into me," answered Quest "I didn't know it until +just now, when it ended, but my father conditioned me psychologically +from my birth to the task of hunting down Dom Blessing and killing him. +It was an unconscious drive in me that wouldn't release me until the +task was finished. + +"You see, Blessing was my father's assistant on Ganymede. Right after my +father completed development of the surgiscope, he and my mother blasted +off for Io. Blessing wanted the valuable rights to the surgiscope, and +he sabotaged the ship's drive so it would fall into Jupiter. + +"But my father was able to control it in the heavy atmosphere of Jupiter, +and landed it successfully. I was born there, and he conditioned me to +come to Earth and track down Blessing. I know now that it was part of +the conditioning that I was unable to fight any other man until my task +was finished: it might have gotten me in trouble and diverted me from +that purpose." + +More gently than Trella would have believed possible for his +Jupiter-strong muscles, Quest took her in his arms. + +"Now I can say I love you," he said. "That was part of the conditioning +too: I couldn't love any woman until my job was done." + +Trella disengaged herself. + +"I'm sorry," she said. "Don't you know this, too, now: that you're not a +man, but an android?" + +He looked at her in astonishment, stunned by her words. + +"What in space makes you think that?" he demanded. + +"Why, Quest, it's obvious," she cried, tears in her eyes. "Everything +about you ... your build, suited for Jupiter's gravity ... your strength +... the fact that you were able to live in Jupiter's atmosphere after +the oxygen equipment failed. I know you think Dr. Mansard was your +father, but androids often believe that." + +He grinned at her. + +"I'm no android," he said confidently. "Do you forget my father was +inventor of the surgiscope? He knew I'd have to grow up on Jupiter, and +he operated on the genes before I was born. He altered my inherited +characteristics to adapt me to the climate of Jupiter ... even to being +able to breathe a chlorine atmosphere as well as an oxygen atmosphere." + +Trella looked at him. He was not badly hurt, any more than an elephant +would have been, but his tunic was stained with red blood where the +bullets had struck him. Normal android blood was green. + +"How can you be sure?" she asked doubtfully. + +"Androids are made," he answered with a laugh. "They don't grow up. And +I remember my boyhood on Jupiter very well." + +He took her in his arms again, and this time she did not resist. His +lips were very human. + + THE END + + + + +[ Transcriber's Note: + + The following is a list of corrections made to the original. The first + line is the original line, the second the corrected one. + + destruction--immeasureably + destruction--immeasurably + +dome-colony on Ganymede. Motwick, already, drunk, had insisted. +dome-colony on Ganymede. Motwick, already drunk, had insisted. + +her mission was confidential, but surely Dom Blesssing could not object +her mission was confidential, but surely Dom Blessing could not object + +microscope. The principal was the same as that used in operation of +microscope. The principle was the same as that used in operation of +] + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Jupiter Weapon, by Charles Louis Fontenay + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JUPITER WEAPON *** + +***** This file should be named 27588.txt or 27588.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/5/8/27588/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Jana Srna 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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