diff options
Diffstat (limited to '29146-h/29146-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 29146-h/29146-h.htm | 4240 |
1 files changed, 4240 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/29146-h/29146-h.htm b/29146-h/29146-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e38e610 --- /dev/null +++ b/29146-h/29146-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4240 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Equation of Doom, by Gerald Vance</title> +<style type="text/css"> + /* slight differences for print and screen */ + @media print { + span.pgmark {border: 0 !important; } + hr.pg {display: none; visibility: hidden; } + .main p {margin-bottom: 0.25em; + text-indent: 2em; } + body {margin-right: 0; + margin-left: 0; } + ins.TN {text-decoration: none; + border-bottom: 0; } + blockquote {margin: 1.5em 0!important; } + } + @media screen { + span.pgmark {border-top: thin solid silver; + border-bottom: thin solid silver; + display: inline!important; + visibility: visible!important; + position: absolute; left: 1%; } + p {margin-bottom: 0.75em; + text-indent: 0; } + body {margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + ins.TN {text-decoration: none; + border-bottom: thin dotted silver;} + } + + body {font-size: medium; } + + div.main {margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + margin-top: 0; + padding-top: 3em; + padding-bottom: 3em; + max-width: 32em; } + div.main p {text-align: justify; + margin-top: 0; + line-height: 1.3; } + .main h1 {text-indent: 0!important; + font-weight: 900; + font-family: "Franklin Gothic Heavy", "Arial Black", "Verdana Bold", sans-serif; + margin: 0 auto; + font-size: 290%; + line-height: 1.0; + letter-spacing: 0.15em;} + div.illus {margin: 4em 0; + text-align: center; } + .framed {border: thin solid black; } + p.blurb {text-indent: 0!important; + margin: 2em 15%!important; + line-height: 1.8; + border-style: solid; + border-color: black; + border-width: 2px 0; + padding: 0.5em 0; } + table.titleblock {width: 32em; + margin: 3em auto 2em auto; } + blockquote {margin: 2em; } + + /* for transcriber's note at the end */ + div.tnote {border: dashed 1px; + padding: .5em; + margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 6em; + page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; } + div.tnote p {text-indent: 0; + margin-top: .5em; + font-size: 85%;} + div.tnote h3 {text-indent: 0; + text-align: left; + font-size: 110%; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: bold; + padding-top: 0; + letter-spacing: 0;} + + span.pgmark {display: none; visibility: hidden; /* over-ridden for screen devices */ + font-size: x-small; + font-family: serif; + font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + line-height: 1.2; + letter-spacing: 0; + text-indent: 0; text-align: left; + margin: 0; padding: .05em 0.5em !important; } + + hr {background-color: black; color: inherit; padding: 0;} + + .ns {display: none; visibility: hidden; } + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; } + .pgbrk {page-break-after: always; } + em, cite {font-style: italic; } + .tb {padding-top: 1.7em; } + .noindent {text-indent: 0!important; } + .sans {font-family: sans-serif; } + .nw {white-space: nowrap; } + .lt {text-align: left!important; text-indent: 0!important; } + .rt {text-align: right!important; text-indent: 0!important; } + .uc {text-transform: uppercase; margin-left: -4px; } + .drop {font-size: 275%; + float: left; width: auto; + line-height: 90%; + padding-right: 4px;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + .center {text-align: center; } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="center">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Equation of Doom, by Gerald Vance</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Equation of Doom</p> +<p>Author: Gerald Vance</p> +<p>Release Date: June 17, 2009 [eBook #29146]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EQUATION OF DOOM***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="center">E-text prepared by Greg Weeks, David Wilson,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="tnote"> +<h3>Transcriber’s note:</h3> + +<p>This story was published in <cite>Amazing Stories</cite>, +February 1957. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> + +<div class="illus"><img class="framed" src="images/cover.jpg" width="300" height="412" + alt="Amazing Stories" title="Magazine Cover" /></div> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="illus pgbrk"><a name="png.001" id="png.001"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">6</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><img src="images/equation.png" width="700" height="500" + alt="equation of doom" title="Title illustration" /><br + /><small class="sans">His agony of soul at being unable to save +Margot was far greater than physical torture.</small> +</div> + +<div class="main"> + +<p class="blurb"><small><a name="png.003" id="png.003"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">8</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><i>They grounded Ramsey’s ship on a hostile planet hoping +he would starve to death, so the first thing he did was +give most of his money away and lose the rest gambling. +Then he picked a fight with the Chief of Police and +joined forces with a half-naked dream-chick who was +seemingly bent on self-destruction. The stakes were +big—a planet or two—but it all added up to <span class="nw">an——</span></i></small></p> + + +<table class="titleblock" summary="Story title"> +<tr><td class="lt"><h1 class="lt">Equation</h1></td></tr> +<tr><td class="rt"><h1 class="rt">of Doom</h1></td></tr> +<tr><td class="lt"><big><strong>By GERALD VANCE</strong></big></td></tr> +</table> + + + +<p class="noindent"><span class="drop">“Y</span><span class="uc">our</span> name ith Jathon <!-- drop cap --> +Ramthey?” the Port Security +Officer lisped politely.</p> + +<p>Jason Ramsey, who wore +the uniform of Interstellar +Transfer Service and was the +only Earthman in the Service +here on Irwadi, smiled and +said: “Take three guesses. +You know darn well I’m +Ramsey.” He was a big man +even by Earth standards, +which meant he towered over +the Irwadian’s green, scaly +head. He was fair of skin and +had hair the color of copper. +It was rumored on Irwadi and +elsewhere that he couldn’t return +to Earth because of some +crime he had committed.</p> + +<p>“Alwayth the chip on the +shoulder,” the Port Security +Officer said. “Won’t you +Earthmen ever learn?” The +splay-tongued reptile-humanoids +of Irwadi always spoke +Interstellar <i>Coine</i> with a +pronounced lisp which Ramsey +found annoying, especially +since it went so well with the +officious and underhanded +behavior for which the Irwadians +were famous the galaxy +over.</p> + +<p>“Get to the point,” Ramsey +said harshly. “I have a ship +to take through hyper-space.”</p> + +<p>“No. You have no ship.”</p> + +<p>“No? Then what’s this?” +His irritation mounting, Ramsey +pulled out the Interstellar +Transfer Service authorization +form and showed it to the +Security Officer. “A tip-sheet +for the weightless races at +Fomalhaut VI?”</p> + +<p>The Security Officer said: +“Ha, ha, ha.” He could not +laugh; he merely uttered the +phonetic equivalent of +<a name="png.004" id="png.004"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">9</span><span class="ns">] + </span>laughter. On harsh Irwadi, laughter +would have been a cultural +anomaly. “You make joketh. +Well, nevertheleth, you have +no ship.” He expanded his +scaly green barrel chest and +declaimed: “At 0400 hours +thith morning, the government +of Irwadi hath planetarithed +the Irwadi Tranthfer +Thervith.”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />“Planetarized the Transfer +Service!” gasped Ramsey in +surprise. He knew the Irwadians +had been contemplating +the move in theory for many +years, but he also knew that +transferring a starship from +normal space through hyper-space +back to normal space +again was a tremendously +difficult and technical task. +He doubted if half a dozen +Irwadians had mastered it, +yet the Irwadi branch of Interstellar +Transfer Service +was made up of seventy-five +hyper-space pilots of divers +planetalities.</p> + +<p>“Ecthactly,” said the Security +Officer, as amused as an +Irwadian could be by the +amazement in Ramsey’s frank +green eyes. “Tho if you will +kindly thurrender your permit?”</p> + +<p>“Let’s see it in writing, +huh?”</p> + +<p>The Security Officer complied. +Ramsey read the official +document, scowled, and handed +over his Irwadi pilot license. +“What about the <cite>Polaris</cite>?” +he wanted to know. +The <cite>Polaris</cite> was a Centaurian +ship he’d been scheduled to +take through hyper-space on +the run from Irwadi to +Centauri III.</p> + +<p>“Temporarily grounded, +captain. Or should I thay, +ecth-captain?”</p><!-- original has space following hyphen --> + +<p>“Temporarily my foot,” +said Ramsey. “It’ll be months +before you Irwadians can get +even a fraction of the ships +into hyper. You must be out +of your minds.”</p> + +<p>“Our problem, captain. Not +yourth.”</p> + +<p>That was true enough. +Ramsey shrugged.</p> + +<p>“Your problem,” the Security +Officer went on blandly, +“will be to find a meanth of +thelf-thupport until you and +all other ecthra-planetarieth +can be removed from Irwadi. +We owe you ecthra-planetarieth +nothing. Ethpect no charity +from uth.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey shrugged. Like all +extra-planetaries on a bleak, +friendless world like Irwadi, +he’d regularly gambled away +and drank away his monthly +paycheck in the interstellar +settlement which the Irwadians +had established in the +Old Quarter of Irwadi City. +But last month he’d managed +<a name="png.005" id="png.005"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">10</span><span class="ns">] + </span>to come out even at the gaming +tables, so he had a few +hundred credits to his name. +That would be enough, he told +himself, to tide him over until +Interstellar Transfer Service +came to the rescue of its +stranded pilots.</p> + +<p>Ramsey went up the gangway +and got his gear from +the <cite>Polaris</cite>. When he returned +down the gangway, the late +afternoon wind was blowing +across the spacefield tarmac, +a wet, bone-chilling wind +which only the reptile-humanoid +Irwadians didn’t seem to +mind.</p> + +<p>Ramsey fastened the toggles +of his cold-weather cape, +put his head down and hunched +his shoulders, and walked +into the teeth of the wind. +He did not look back at the +<cite>Polaris</cite>, marooned indefinitely +on Irwadi despite anything +the Centaurian owners or +anyone else for that matter +could do about it.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />The Irwadi Security Officer, +whose name was Chind +Ramar, walked up the gangway +and ordered the ship’s +Centaurian first officer to assemble +his crew and passengers. +Chind Ramar allowed +himself the rare luxury of a +fleeting smile. He could imagine +this scene being duplicated +on fifty ships here on +his native planet today, fifty +outworld ships which had no +business at all on Irwadi. Of +course, Irwadi was an important +planet-of-call in the +Galactic Federation because +the vital metal titanium was +found as abundantly in Irwadian +soil as aluminum is +found in the soil of an Earth-style +planet. Titanium, in +alloy with steel and manganese, +was the only element +which could withstand the +tremendous heat generated in +the drive-chambers of interstellar +ships during transfer. +In the future, Chind Ramar +told himself with a kind of +cold pride, only Irwadian +pilots, piloting Irwadian ships +through hyper-space, would +bring titanium to the waiting +galaxy. At Irwadi prices.</p> + +<p>With great relish, Chind +Ramar announced the facts +of planetarization and told +the Centaurians and their +passengers that they would be +stranded for an indefinite +period on Irwadi. Amazement, +anger, bluster, debate, +and finally resignation—the +reactions were the expected +ones, in the expected order. +It was easy, Chind Ramar +thought, with all but the interstellar +soldiers of fortune +like Jason Ramsey. Ramsey, +of course, would need watching. +As for these others….</p> + +<p><a name="png.006" id="png.006"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">11</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>One of the others, an +Earthgirl whose beauty was +entirely missed by Chind +Ramar, left the <cite>Polaris</cite> in a +hurry. She either had no luggage +or left her luggage +aboard. Jason Ramsey, she +thought. She had read Chind +Ramar’s mind; a feat growing +less rare although by no +means common yet among the +offspring of those who had +spent a great deal of time +bombarded by cosmic radiation +between the stars. She +hurried through the chilling +wind toward the Old Quarter +of Irwadi City. Panic, she +thought. You’ve got to avoid +panic. If you panic, you’re +finished….</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />“So that’s about the size +of it,” Ramsey finished.</p> + +<p>Stu Englander nodded. Like +Ramsey he was a hyper-space +pilot, but although he had an +Earth-style name and had +been born of Earth parents, +he was not an Earthman. He +had been born on Capella VII, +and had spent most of his life +on that tropical planet. The +result was not an uncommon +one for outworlders who +spent any amount of time on +Irwadi: Stu Englander had a +nagging bronchial condition +which had kept him off the +pilot-bridge for some months +now.</p> + +<p>Englander nodded again, +dourly. He was a short, very +slender man a few years older +than Ramsey, who was thirty-one. +He said: “That ties it. +And I mean ties it, brother. +You’re looking at the brokest +Capellan-earthman who ever +got himself stuck on an outworld.”</p> + +<p>“You mean it?”</p> + +<p>“Dead broke, Jase.”</p> + +<p>“What about Sally and the +kids?”</p> + +<p>Englander had an Arcturan-earthian +wife and twin +boys four years old. “I don’t +know what about Sally and +the kids,” he told Ramsey +glumly. “I guess I’ll go over +to the New Quarter and try +to get some kind of a job.”</p> + +<p>“They wouldn’t hire an outworlder +to shine their shoes +with his own spit, Stu. They +have got the planetarization +bug, and they’ve got it bad.”</p> + +<p>Sally Englander called +from the kitchen of the small +flat: “Will Jase be staying for +supper?”</p> + +<p>Englander stared at Ramsey, +who shook his head. “Not +today, Sally,” Englander said, +looking at Ramsey gratefully.</p> + +<p>“Listen,” Ramsey lied, +“I’ve been lucky as all get out +the last couple of months.”</p> + +<p>“You old pro!” grinned +Englander.</p> + +<p>“So I’ve got a few hundred +<a name="png.007" id="png.007"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">12</span><span class="ns">] + </span>credits just burning a hole +in my pocket,” Ramsey went +on. “How’s about taking +them?”</p> + +<p>“But I haven’t the slightest +idea when I could pay back.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say anything +about paying me back.”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t accept charity, +Jase.”</p> + +<p>“O.K. Pay me back when +you get a chance. There are +plenty of hyper-space jobs +waiting for us all over the +galaxy, you know that.”</p> + +<p>“Yeah, all we have to do is +get off Irwadi and go after +them. But the Irwadians are +keeping us right here.”</p> + +<p>“Sure, but it won’t last. +Not when the folks back in +Capella and Deneb and Sol +System hear about it.”</p> + +<p>“Six months,” said Englander +bleakly. “It’ll take at least +that long.”</p> + +<p>“Six months I can wait. +What d’you say?”</p> + +<p>Englander coughed <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'rackingly'">wrackingly</ins>, +his eyes watering. He +got off the bed and shook +Ramsey’s hand solemnly. +Ramsey gave him three hundred +and seventy-five credits +and said: “Just see you make +that go a long way supporting +Sally and the kids. I don’t +want to see you dropping any +of it at the gaming tables. +I’ll knock your block off if I +see you there.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll knock my own block +off if I see me there. Jase, +I don’t know how to thank—”</p> + +<p>“Don’t is right. Forget it.”</p> + +<p>“Do you have enough—”</p> + +<p>“Me? Plenty. Don’t worry +about old Jase.” Ramsey went +to the door. “Well, see you.”</p> + +<p>Englander walked quickly +to him and shook his hand +again. On the way out, Ramsey +played for a moment or +two with the twins, who were +rolling a couple of toy spaceships +marked hyper-one and +hyper-two across the floor and +making anachronistic machine-gun +noises with their +lips. Sally Englander, a +plump, young-home-maker +type, beamed at Ramsey from +the kitchen. Then he went out +into the gathering dusk.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />As usual on Irwadi, and +particularly with the coming +of night, it was bitterly cold. +Sucker, Ramsey told himself. +But he grinned. He felt good +about what he’d done. With +Stu sick, and with Sally and +the kids, he’d done the only +thing he could do. He still had +almost twenty-five credits +left. Maybe he really would +have a lucky night at the +tables. Maybe … heck, he’d +been down-and-out before. A +fugitive from Earth didn’t +have much choice sometimes….</p> + +<p><a name="png.008" id="png.008"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">13</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“Red <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'sitxeen'">sixteen</ins>,” the croupier +said indifferently. He was a +short, heavy-set Sirian with +a shock of scarlet hair, albino +skin, and red eyes.</p> + +<p>Ramsey watched his money +being raked across the table. +It wasn’t his night, he told +himself with a grim smile. He +had only three credits left. If +he risked them now, there +wouldn’t even be the temporary +physical relief and release +of a bottle of Irwadian +brandy before hitting the +sack.</p> + +<p>Which was another thing, +Ramsey thought. Hitting the +sack. Ah yes, you filthy outworlder +capitalist, hitting the +sack. You owe that fish-eyed, +scale-skinned Irwadian landlady +the rent money, so you’d +better wait until later, until +much later, before sneaking +back to your room.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />He watched the gambling +for another hour or so without +risking his few remaining +credits. After a while a well-dressed +Irwadian, drunk and +obviously slumming here in +the Old Quarter, made his +way over to the table. His +body scales were a glossy dark +green and he wore glittering, +be-jeweled straps across his +chest and an equally glittering, +be-jeweled weapons belt. +Aside from these, in the approved +Irwadian fashion, he +was quite naked. An anthropologist +friend had once told +Ramsey that once the Irwadians +had worn clothing, but +since the coming in great +number of the outworlders +they had stripped down, as +though to prove how tough +they were in being able to +withstand the freezing climate +of their native world. +Actually, the Irwadian body-scales +were superb insulation, +whether from heat or from +cold.</p> + +<p>“… Earthman watching +me,” the Irwadian in the be-jeweled +straps said arrogantly, +placing a fat roll of credits +on the table.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry,” Ramsey said. +“Were you talking to me?”</p> + +<p>“I thertainly wath,” lisped +the Irwadian, his eyes blazing +with drunken hatred. “I thaid +I won’t have any Earthman +thnooping over my thoulder +while I gamble, not unleth +he’th gambling too.”</p> + +<p>“Better tell that to your +Security Police,” Ramsey said +coldly but not angrily. “I’m +out of a job, so I don’t have +money to throw around. Go +ahead and tell me—” with a +little smile—“you think it was +my idea.”</p> + +<p>The Irwadian looked up +haughtily. Evidently he was +looking for trouble, or could +<a name="png.009" id="png.009"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">14</span><span class="ns">] + </span>not hold his liquor, or both. +The frenzy of planetarization, +Ramsey knew from bitter +experience on other worlds, +made irrational behavior like +this typical. He studied the +drunken Irwadian carefully. +In all the time he’d spent on +Irwadi, he’d never been able +to tell a native’s age by his +green, scale-skinned, fish-eyed +poker-face. But the glossy +green scales covering face and +body told Ramsey, along with +the sturdy muscles revealed +by the lack of clothing, that +the Irwadian was in his +prime, shorter than Ramsey +by far, but wider across the +shoulders and thicker through +the barrel chest.</p> + +<p>“You outworlderth have +been deprething the thandard +of living on Irwadi ever +thince you came here,” the +Irwadian said. “All you ever +brought wath poverty and +your ditheath germth and +more trouble than you could +handle. I don’t want your +thtink near me. I’m trying to +enjoy mythelf. Get out of +here.”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />It was abruptly silent in +the little gambling hall. Since +the establishment catered to +outworlders and was full of +them, the silence, Ramsey +thought, should have been +both ominous and in his +favor. He looked around. Outworlders, +yes. But not another +Earthman present. He wondered +if he was in for a fight. +He shrugged, hardly caring. +Maybe a fight was just what +he needed, the way he felt.</p> + +<p>“Get out of here,” the Irwadian +repeated. “You thtink.”</p> + +<p>Just then a Vegan girl, +blue-skinned and fantastically +wasp-waisted like all her +kind, drifted over to Ramsey. +He’d seen her around. He +thought he recognized her. +Maybe he’d even danced with +her in the unit-a-dance halls +reserved for humanoid outworlders.</p> + +<p>“Are you nuts?” she said, +hissing the words through +her teeth and grabbing Ramsey’s +elbow. “Don’t you know +who that guy is?”</p> + +<p>“No. Who?”</p> + +<p>“He’s Garr Symm, that’s +who.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey smiled at her without +mirth. “Do I bow down +in awe or run from here +screaming? I never heard of +Garr Symm.”</p> + +<p>“Oh you fool!” she whispered +furiously. “Garr Symm +is the brand new number one +man of the Irwadi Security +Police. Don’t you read the +’casts?”</p> + +<p>Before Ramsey could answer +or adjust to his surprise, +the Irwadian repeated:</p> + +<p><a name="png.010" id="png.010"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">15</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“I’m telling you for the +third time. Get out.”</p> + +<p>Ostentatiously, Ramsey +reached into his cloak-pocket +for a single credit bill and +tossed it on the table.</p> + +<p>“The denomination is not +sufficient, sir,” the albino +Sirian croupier said indifferently. +Ramsey had known it +was not.</p> + +<p>Garr Symm’s face turned +a darker green. The Vegan +girl retreated from Ramsey’s +side in fright. Symm raised +his hand and an Irwadian +waiter brought over a drink +in a purple stem glass with +a filigree pattern of titanium, +bowing obsequiously. Symm +lurched with the glass toward +Ramsey. “I’m telling you to +go,” he said in a loud voice.</p> + +<p>Ramsey picked up his credit +note but stood there. With +a little sigh of drunken contentment, +Garr Symm sloshed +the contents of his stem glass +in Ramsey’s face.</p> + +<p>The liquor stung Ramsey’s +eyes. Many of the other outworlders, +neither Irwadian +nor Earthmen, laughed nervously.</p> + +<p>Ramsey wiped his eyes but +otherwise did not move. He +was in a rough spot and he +knew it. The fact that their +new Security Chief went out +drunk at night with a chip +on his shoulder was the Irwadian +government’s affair, not +Ramsey’s. He’d been insulted +before. An Earthman in the +outworlds, particularly an +Earthman fugitive who knew +he dared not get into the +kind of trouble that could +bring the Earth consul to investigate, +was used to insults. +For Earth was the leading +economic and military power +of the galaxy, and the fact +that Earth really tried to deal +fairly with its galactic neighbors +meant nothing. Earth, +being top dog, was resented.</p> + +<p>The thing which got Ramsey, +though, was this Garr +Symm. He had never heard of +Garr Symm, and he thought +he knew most of the big shots +in the Irwadian Security Police +by name. But there must +have been a reason for his +appointment. A government +throwing off outworld influence +had a reason for everything. +So, why Garr Symm?</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />“You, Mith Vegan!” Garr +Symm called suddenly. “You +whithpered to the Earthman. +What did you tell him?”</p> + +<p>“Not to look for trouble,” +the Vegan girl said in a +frightened voice.</p> + +<p>“But what elth?”</p> + +<p>“Honest, that’s all.”</p> + +<p>“Come here, pleath.”</p> + +<p>Her blue skin all at once +very pale, the Vegan girl +<a name="png.011" id="png.011"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">16</span><span class="ns">] + </span>walked back toward Garr +Symm. He leered at her quite +drunkenly and took hold of +her slender arm. “What did +you tell him? For the latht +time.”</p> + +<p>The girl whimpered: “You +are hurting my arm.”</p> + +<p>Thoughts raced through +Ramsey’s mind. As an administrator, +as an Irwadian public +servant in a touchy job, +Garr Symm, a drunkard, was +obviously grossly incompetent. +What other qualifications +did he have which gave +him the top Irwadian Security +job? Ramsey didn’t +know. He sighed. The Vegan +girl’s mouth formed a rictus +of pain. Ramsey had a hunch +he was going to find out.</p> + +<p>He said curtly: “Let go of +her, Symm. She told me nothing +that would interest +you.”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Garr Symm ignored him. +The blue-skinned girl cried.</p> + +<p>Ramsey grimaced and hit +Garr Symm in the belly as +hard as he could.</p> + +<p>Symm thudded back against +the table. It overturned with +a crash and the Security +Chief crashed down on top of +it. There wasn’t a sound in +the gambling hall except +Ramsey’s sudden hard breathing, +the Vegan girl’s sniffling, +and Garr Symm’s noisy attempts +to get air into his +lungs. Then Garr Symm +gagged and was sick. He +writhed in pain, still unable +to breathe. His hands fluttered +near his weapons belt.</p> + +<p>“Come on,” Ramsey told +the Vegan girl. “We’d better +get out of here.” He took her +arm. Dumbly she went with +him. None of the outworlders +there tried to stop them. +Ramsey looked back at Garr +Symm. The Irwadian was +shaking his fist. He had finally +managed to draw his m.g. +gun, but the crowd of outworlders +closed between them +and there was no chance he +could hit Ramsey or the girl. +Retching, he had dirtied the +glossy green scales of his +chest.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get you,” he vowed. +“I’ll get you.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey took the girl outside. +It was very cold. “I’m +so afraid,” she said. “What +will I do? What can I do?” +She shook with fear.</p> + +<p>“You got a place to sleep?”</p> + +<p>“Y-yes, but I’m the only +Vegan girl in Irwadi City. +He’ll find me. He’ll find me +when he’s ready.”</p> + +<p>“O.K. Then come home with +me.”</p> + +<p>“I—”</p> + +<p>“For crying out loud, I +don’t look that lecherous, do +I? We can’t just stand here.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.012" id="png.012"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">17</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“I—I’m sorry. I’ll go with +you of course.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey took her hand +again and they ran. The cold +black Irwadian night swallowed +them.</p> + +<p>“So you live in the Old +Quarter too,” the Vegan girl +said.</p> + +<p>“Heck yeah. Did you expect +a palace?”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Ramsey had a room, rent +one Irwadi month in arrears, +in a cold-water tenement near +the river which demarked the +Old and the New Quarters. +The façade of the old building +was dark now. His landlady +was probably asleep, +although you never could tell +with that old witch. Ramsey +knew it wouldn’t be the first +time she stayed up through +half the night to await a +delinquent tenant.</p> + +<p>“I—I never went to a man’s +room before,” the blue-skinned +Vegan girl said. She was +rather pretty in a slender, +muscleless, big-eyed, female-helpless +mode.</p> + +<p>“You’re a dance-hall girl, +aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Still, I never spent the +night in a man’s—”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with +you? You think we’re going +to spend the night here? +Somebody over at those gaming +tables will be able to identify +me. Garr Symm’ll be on +his way before long.”</p> + +<p>“Then what are we going +to do?” The girl was shivering +with cold.</p> + +<p>“Hide,” Jason Ramsey said. +“Somewhere. I just came back +to get my things. There isn’t +much, but there’s an old m.g. +gun which we might need.”</p> + +<p>“But they’ll find us, and—”</p> + +<p>“You coming upstairs or +will you wait out here and +freeze to death in the cold?”</p> + +<p>“I’m coming.”</p> + +<p>They went upstairs together, +on tip-toe. Ramsey’s +room was on the third floor, +with a besooted view of the +industrial complex on the +river by day. The narrow hall +was dark and silent. Behind +one of the closed doors an +outworlder cried out in his +sleep. Ramsey had to cup a +hand over the Vegan girl’s +mouth so she wouldn’t scream +in empathic fear. He opened +the door of his room, surprised +that it was not locked. +He thought he had left it +locked.</p> + +<p>At once he was wary. It +was dark in the hall, just as +dark in the room. He could +see nothing. The door hinges +squeaked.</p> + +<p>“Come in, Captain Ramsey,” +a voice said. “I thought +you would never get here.”</p> + +<p>He stood on the threshold, +<a name="png.013" id="png.013"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">18</span><span class="ns">] + </span>uncertain. The voice had +spoken not Interstellar <i>Coine</i>, +but English. It had spoken +English, without a foreign +accent.</p> + +<p>And it was a girl’s voice.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Still, it could have been an +elaborate trick. It was unlikely, +but not impossible, +that Garr Symm had learned +Ramsey’s identity already and +had sent an operative here to +await him. Ramsey and the +Vegan girl had come on foot. +It was a long walk.</p> + +<p>“I’m armed,” Ramsey lied. +“Come over here. Slowly. +Don’t put any lights on.” He +could feel the Vegan girl +trembling next to him. Not +able to understand English, +she didn’t know what was +going on.</p> + +<p>“You’re armed,” the unseen +girl’s voice said in crisp, +amused English, “like I’m a +six-legged Antarean spider-man. +You have an m.g. gun, +Ramsey. It’s in this room. I +have it. That’s all you have. +No, don’t try to lie to me. +I’m a telepath. I can read +you. Come in and put the light +on and shut the door. You +may bring the girl with you +if you want. Brother, is she +ever radiating fear! It’s practically +drowning your own +mind out.”</p> + +<p>The unseen girl wasn’t kidding, +Ramsey knew. She could +read minds. She had proved +it to him. Which left him this +choice: he could grab the +Vegan girl’s arm again and +get the heck out of there, or +do what the unseen Earth girl +told him to do. He wanted +that m.g. gun. He took the +Vegan girl’s hand and advanced +over the threshold and +closed the door and switched +on the light.</p> + +<p>The girl was sitting on the +bed. She was an Earthgirl, +all right. She had come in a +toggle-cloak of green Irwadian +fur, which was folded +neatly at her side on the bed. +Under it she wore a daring +net halter of the type then +fashionable on Earth but +which had not yet taken over +the outworlds. It left her +shoulders bare and exposed a +great deal of smooth, tawny +skin through the net. Her +firm breasts were cupped in +two solid cones of black growing +out of the net. Her midriff +was bare to an inch or two +below the navel. Her loins +were covered by an abrevitog +which formed a triangle in +front and, Ramsey knew, +would form one in back. Her +long, well-formed legs were +bare down to the mid-calf +boots she wore. She had a +beautiful body and had dressed +so Ramsey couldn’t miss +<a name="png.014" id="png.014"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">19</span><span class="ns">] + </span>it. Her face was so provocatively +beautiful that Ramsey +just stood there staring at it—after +he had taken in the +rest of her. She wore her +hair quite long. She seemed +perfectly composed. In her +right hand she held Ramsey’s +m.g. gun, but she wasn’t +pointing it at them.</p> + +<p>She looked at the timid +Vegan girl and smiled. “Oh, +I am sorry, Captain Ramsey,” +she said. “I couldn’t know, of +course, you’d be coming home +with—company.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t what you think it +is,” Ramsey said, surprised +to find himself on the defensive. +“The girl’s in trouble. +So’m I.”</p> + +<p>The Earthgirl laughed. “Already? +You looked the type, +but I thought it would take a +little time.”</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” Ramsey +said. They were speaking +in English. The Vegan girl +tugged at Ramsey’s arm. She +wanted to get out of there +and hoped Ramsey would go +with her. Abruptly the Earthgirl +burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>“What’s so funny?” Ramsey +demanded.</p> + +<p>“<ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'You’re'">Your</ins> little Vegan friend. +I read her mind, Ramsey. She +thinks I’m your wife. She +thinks I’m mad at you for +bringing her home.”</p> + +<p>“Then why don’t you talk +in <i>Coine</i>,” Ramsey said in the +interstellar language, “and +make her feel better? She +might as well know I never +saw you before in my life.” +He was annoyed.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />The Vegan girl smiled timidly, +taking hope.</p> + +<p>“But you did,” the beautiful +Earthgirl said. “I was on +the <cite>Polaris</cite> today, Captain. +You were to be the pilot, until +Interstellar Transfer here on +Irwadi was planetarized.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t see you. Dressed +like that I wouldn’t have forgotten +you.”</p> + +<p>“I wasn’t dressed like this.” +The girl smiled, very sure of +herself. “I read your mind +when you came in. The costume’s +had the desired effect, +I see. But you needn’t broadcast +your animal desires so +blatantly.”</p> + +<p>“Nobody asked you to read +my mind. Besides, you needn’t +broadcast your physical assets +so blatantly.”</p> + +<p>“Touché,” said the Earthgirl.</p> + +<p>“Listen,” Ramsey began. +“We’re in a jam. We’re in a +hurry.”</p> + +<p>“So you told me. I couldn’t +have wished for more. It +looks like I didn’t need this +costume and its obvious inducements +at all, if you’re +really in a jam.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.015" id="png.015"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">20</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“What the devil is that supposed +to mean?”</p> + +<p>“My name is Margot Dennison, +Captain Ramsey. I +have managed to buy an old +starship, small and held together +by spit and string and +whatever the Irwadians use +for prayer—”</p> + +<p>“They’re atheists,” Ramsey +said a little pointlessly. It was +the girl. Darn her hide, she +was beautiful! What did she +expect? Looking at her, how +could a man concentrate…. +“Hey!” Ramsey blurted suddenly. +“Did you say Margot +Dennison? The tri-di star?”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Margot Dennison smiled. +“That’s right,” she said. +“Stranded five hundred light +years from nowhere, Captain +Ramsey. With a ship. With +money. In need of a hyper-space +pilot. That’s why I’m +here, or didn’t you guess?”</p> + +<p>“I’m listening.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it clear? I’ll pay you +to take me away from here.”</p> + +<p>“Where to?”</p> + +<p>“Through hyper-space to +Earth. Well?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been grounded. If I +take you through hyper-space, +I lose my license.”</p> + +<p>“You really don’t believe +that, do you? After the Irwadians +grounded all of you +without warning, and grounded +all ships until they can +train a few more pilots. You +don’t really think I.T.S. would +take your license away if you +took a ship up and through +hyper, do you? Under the circumstances? +Especially since +you’re in a jam with a totalitarian +government gone wild? +Do you?”</p> + +<p>Ramsey said abruptly: +“I’m sorry. I can’t take you +to Sol System.”</p> + +<p>Margot Dennison smiled. It +wasn’t the kind of smile designed +to make a man roll +over on his back and wave all +fours in the breeze. Margot +Dennison didn’t need that +kind of smile.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. +“I read your mind, you see. +Very well, Captain. If you’re +a fugitive from Earth—I assume +Ramsey isn’t your real +name, by the way—you may +take me through hyper to +Centauri. That will be quite +satisfactory. I will make my +way from Centauri. Well?”</p> + +<p>“Give me the gun,” Ramsey +said.</p> + +<p>“My goodness, of course. +I’m not trying to hold you up. +Here.” She got up from the +bed for the first time and +walked toward them. She had +firm, long legs, and used them +well. She was utterly lovely +and although part of it was +probably her professional +know-how, she made you +<a name="png.016" id="png.016"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">21</span><span class="ns">] + </span>forget that. She was the most +attractive girl, Earth or outworld, +Ramsey had seen in +years.</p> + +<p>Ramsey took the gun. Their +hands met. Ramsey leaned +forward quickly and kissed +her on the lips. He was still +holding the Vegan girl’s slender +arm, though. She tried to +run away but couldn’t. Margot +Dennison returned the +kiss for an instant, to show +Ramsey that when she really +wanted to return it, if she +ever really would, she would +pack the same kind of libidinal +vitality in her responses +as she did in her appearance; +then she stood coldly, no longer +responsive, until Ramsey +stepped back.</p> + +<p>“Maybe I was asking for +it,” she said. “I was prepared +for that—and more. But it +isn’t necessary now, is it? My +gosh, Ramsey! Will you please +close that mind of yours? You +make a girl blush.”</p> + +<p>“Then put on your cloak,” +Ramsey said, and, really +blushing this time, she did so.</p> + +<p>She said: “I’m prepared to +pay you one thousand credits; +what do you say?”</p> + +<p>“I say it must be a pretty +important appointment you +have on Centauri.”</p> + +<p>“Earth, Captain Ramsey. +I’m settling for Centauri. +Well?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take you,” Ramsey +said, “if this girl comes too.”</p> + +<p>Margot Dennison looked at +the frightened Vegan girl and +smiled. “So it’s like that,” she +said.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t like anything.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey packed a few +things in an expanduffle and +the three of them hurried +through the doorway and +down stairs. The cold dark +night awaiting them with a +fierce howling wind and the +first flurries of snow from the +north.</p> + +<p>“Where to?” Ramsey hollered +above the wind.</p> + +<p>“My place,” Margot Dennison +told him, and they ran.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Margot Dennison had a +large apartment in Irwadi +City’s New Quarter. This +surprised Ramsey, for not +many outworlders lived there. +That night, though, he was +too tired to think about it. He +vaguely remembered a couch +for himself, a separate room +for the Vegan girl, another +for Margot Dennison. He +slept like a log without +dreaming.</p> + +<p>He awoke with anxious +hands fluttering at his shoulder. +Opening one sleepy eye, +he saw the Vegan girl. He +saw daylight through a window +but said, “Gmph! Middle +of the night.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.017" id="png.017"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">22</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>The Vegan girl said: “She’s +gone.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey came awake all at +once, springing to his feet +fully dressed and flinging +aside his cloak, which he’d +used as a blanket. “Margot!” +he called.</p> + +<p>“She’s gone,” the Vegan +girl repeated. “When I awoke +she wasn’t here. The door—”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Ramsey ran to the door. It +was a heavy plastic irising +door. It was locked and naturally +would not respond to the +whorl patterns of Ramsey’s +thumb.</p> + +<p>“So now we’re prisoners,” +Ramsey said. “I don’t get it.”</p> + +<p>“At least there’s food in +the kitchen.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Let’s eat.”</p> + +<p>There were two windows +in the room, but when Ramsey +looked out he saw they +were at least four stories up. +They’d just have to wait for +Margot Dennison.</p> + +<p>It took the Vegan girl some +time to prepare the unfamiliar +Earth-style food with +which Margot Dennison’s +kitchen was stocked. Ramsey +used the time to prowl around +the apartment. It was furnished +in Sirian-archaic, a +mode of furniture too feminine +to suit Ramsey’s tastes. +But then, the uni-sexual +Sirians, of course, often catered +to their own feminine +taste.</p> + +<p>Ramsey found nothing in +Margot Dennison’s apartment +which indicated she had done +any acting on Irwadi, and +that surprised him, for he’d +assumed she had plied her +trade here as elsewhere. He +felt a little guilty about his +snooping, then changed his +mind when he remembered +that Margot had locked them +in.</p> + +<p>In one of the slide compartments +of what passed for a +bureau in Sirian-archaic, he +found a letter. Since it was +the only piece of correspondence +in the apartment, it +might be important to Margot +Dennison, thought Ramsey. +And if it were important to +her….</p> + +<p>Ramsey opened the letter +and read it. Dated five Earth +months before, it ran:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><i>My darling Margot: By the +time you read this I shall be +dead. Ironical, isn’t it? Coming +so close—with death in +the form of an incurable +cancer intervening.</i></p> + +<p><i>As you know, Margot, I +always wished for a son but +never had one. You’ll have to +play that role, I’m afraid, as +you always have. Here is the +information I told you I would +write down. Naturally, if you +<a name="png.018" id="png.018"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">23</span><span class="ns">] + </span>intend to do anything about +it, you’ll guard it with your +life.</i></p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + /><i>Apparently the hyper-space +pattern from Irwadi to +Earth is the one I was looking +for. The proto-men, if I +may be bold enough to call +them that, first left hyper-space +at that point, perhaps +a million, perhaps five million, +Earth years ago. I don’t have +to tell you what this means, +my child. I’ve already indicated +it to you previously. It +suffices to remind you that, +in what science has regarded +as the most amazing coincidence +in the history of +the galaxy, humanoid types +sprang up on some three thousand +stellar worlds simultaneously +between one and five +million years ago. I say simultaneously +although there is +the possibility of a four million +year lag: indications are, +however, that one date would +do quite well for all the +worlds.</i></p> + +<p><i>Proto-man was tremendously +ahead of us in certain +sciences, naturally. For example, +each humanoid type +admirably fits the evolutionary +pattern on its particular +planet. The important point, +Margot, is the simultaneity +of the events: it means that +proto-man left hyper-space, +his birth-place, and peopled +the man-habitable worlds of +the galaxy at a single absolute +instance in time. This would +clearly be impossible if the +thousands of journeys involved +any duration. Therefore, +it can only be concluded +that they were journeys +which somehow negated the +temporal dimension. In other +words, instant travel across +the length and breadth of the +galaxy!</i></p> + +<p><i>Whoever re-discovers proto-man’s +secret, needless to +say, will be the most influential, +the most powerful, man +in the galaxy. Margot, I +thought that man would be +me. It won’t be now.</i></p> + +<p><i>But it can be you, Margot. +It is my dying wish that you +continue my work. Let nothing +stop you. Nothing. Remember +this, though: I cannot +tell you what to expect +when you reach the original +home of proto-man. In all +probability the whole race has +perished, or we’d have heard +of them since. But I can’t be +sure of that. I can’t be sure +of anything. Perhaps proto-man, +like some deistic god, +became disinterested in the +Milky Way Galaxy for reasons +we’ll never understand. +Perhaps he still exists, in +hyper-space.</i></p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + /><!-- Original printed in two portions in magazine, hence jump in page numbers --> +<a name="png.019" id="png.019"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">104</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span><i>Finally, Margot, remember +this. If you presented this +letter to the evolutionary scientists +on any of the worlds, +they’d laugh at you. It is as +if unbelief of the proto-man +legend were ingrained in all +the planetary people, perhaps +somehow fantastically carried +from generation to generation +in their genes because proto-man +a million years ago decided +that each stellar world +must work out its own destiny +independently of the others +and independent of their common +heritage. But in my own +case, there are apparently two +unique factors at work. In the +first place, as you know, I +deciphered—after discovering +it quite by accident—what +was probably a proto-man’s +dying message to his children, +left a million years ago in the +ruins on Arcturus II. In the +second place, isn’t it quite +possible that my genes have +changed, that I have mutated +and therefore do not have as +an essential part of my make-up +the unbelief of the proto-man +legend?</i></p> + +<p><i>Good luck to you, Margot. +I hope you’re willing to give +up your career to carry out +your dying father’s wish. If +you do, and if you succeed, +more power will be yours than +a human being has ever before +had in the galaxy. I won’t +presume to tell you how to +use it.</i></p> + +<p><i>Oh, yes. One more thing. +Since Earth and Alpha Centauri +are on a direct line from +Irwadi, Centauri will do quite +well as your outbound destination +if for some reason you +can’t make Earth. Again, +good luck, my child. With all +my love, Dad.</i></p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Ramsey frowned at the letter. +He did not know what to +make of it. As far as he knew, +there was no such thing as a +proto-man myth in wide currency +around the galaxy. He +had never heard of proto-man. +Unless, he thought suddenly, +the dying man could +have simply meant all the +myths of human creation, +hypothecating a first man +who, somehow, had developed +independently of the beasts of +the field although he seemed +to fit their evolutionary pattern….</p> + +<p>But what the devil would +hyper-space have to do with +such a myth? Proto-man, +whatever proto-man was, +couldn’t have lived in hyper-space. +Not in that bleak, ugly, +faceless infinity….</p> + +<p>Unless, Ramsey thought, +more perplexed than ever, it +was the very bleak, ugly, +<a name="png.020" id="png.020"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">105</span><span class="ns">] + </span>faceless infinity which made +proto-man leave.</p> + +<p>“Breakfast!” the Vegan +girl called. Ramsey joined her +in the kitchen, and they ate +without talking. When they +were drinking their coffee, an +Earth-style beverage which +the Vegan girl admitted liking, +the apartment door irised +and Margot Dennison came +in.</p> + +<p>Ramsey, who had replaced +the letter where he’d found +it, said: “Just what the devil +did you think you were doing, +locking us in?”</p> + +<p>“For your own protection, +silly,” Margot told him +smoothly. “I always lock my +door when I go out, so I locked +it today. Naturally, we +won’t have a chance to apply +for a new lock. Besides, why +arouse suspicion?”</p> + +<p>“Where’d you go?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see where that’s +any of your business.”</p> + +<p>“Believe it or not,” Ramsey +said caustically, “I’ve seen a +thousand credits before. I’ve +turned down a thousand credits +before, in jobs I didn’t +like. As for being stranded +here on Irwadi, it’s all the +same to me whether I’m on +Irwadi or elsewhere.”</p> + +<p>“What does all that mean, +Captain Ramsey?”</p> + +<p>“It means keep us informed. +It means don’t get uppity.”</p> + +<p>Margot laughed and dropped +a vidcast tape on the table +in front of Ramsey. He read +it and did not look up. There +was a description of himself, +a description of the Vegan +girl, and a wanted bulletin +issued on them. For assaulting +the Chief of Irwadi Security, +the bulletin said. For +assaulting a drunken fool, +Ramsey thought.</p> + +<p>“Well?” Margot asked. This +morning she wore a man-tailored +jumper which, Ramsey +observed, clashed with +the Sirian-archaic furniture. +She looked cool and completely +poised and no less beautiful, +if less provocatively +dressed, than last night.</p> + +<p>Ramsey returned question +for question. “What about the +ship?”</p> + +<p>“In a Spacer Graveyard, of +course. There isn’t a landing +field on the planet we could +go to.”</p> + +<p>“You mean we’ll take off +from a Graveyard? From a +junk-heap of battered old +derelict ships?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. It has some +advantages, believe it or not. +We’ll work on the ship nights. +It needs plenty of work, let +me tell you. But then the +Graveyard is a kind of parts +department, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>Ramsey couldn’t argue with +that.</p> + +<p><a name="png.021" id="png.021"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">106</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>They spent the next three +days sleeping and slowly going +stir-crazy. They slipped +out each night, though, and +walked the two miles to the +Spacer Graveyard down near +the river. It was on the other +side of the river, which meant +they had to boat across. +Risky, but there was no help +for it. Each night they worked +on the ship, which Ramsey +found to be a fifty-year old +Canopusian freighter in even +worse condition than Margot +had indicated. The night was +usually divided into three +sections. First, reviewing the +work which had been done +and planning the evening’s +activities. Then, looking for +the parts they would need in +the jungle of interstellar +wrecks all about them. Finally, +going to work with the +parts they had found and +with the tools which Ramsey +had discovered on the old +Canopusian freighter the first +night.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />As they made their way +back across the river the first +night, Ramsey paddling slowly, +quietly, Margot said:</p> + +<p>“Ramsey, I—I think we’re +being watched.“</p> + +<p>“I haven’t seen or heard a +thing. You, Vardin?“ Vardin +was the Vegan girl’s name.</p> + +<p>Vardin shook her head.</p> + +<p>Ramsey was anxious all at +once, though. Things had +gone too smoothly. They had +not been interfered with at +all. Personally, things hadn’t +gone smoothly with Ramsey, +but that was another story. +He found himself liking Margot +Dennison too much. He +found himself trying to hide +it because he knew she could +read minds. Just how do you +hide your thoughts from a +mind reader? Ramsey didn’t +know, but whenever his +thoughts drifted in that direction +he tried thinking of +something else—anything +else, except the proto-man +letter.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s just what I was +thinking,“ Margot said in the +boat. “I can read minds, so +I’d know best if we were +being watched. To get a clear +reading I have to aim my +thoughts specifically, but I +can pick up free-floating +thoughts as a kind of emotional +tone rather than words. +Does that make sense?“</p> + +<p>“If you say so. What else +did you read in my mind?“</p> + +<p>Margot smiled at him mysteriously +and said nothing.</p> + +<p>Ramsey felt thoughts of +proto-man nibbling at his consciousness. +He tried to fight +them down purely rationally, +and knew he wouldn’t succeed. +He grabbed Margot and +<a name="png.022" id="png.022"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">107</span><span class="ns">] + </span>pulled her close to him, seeking +her lips with his, letting +his thoughts wander into a +fantasy of desire.</p> + +<p>Margot slapped his face +and sat stiffly in her cloak +while he paddled to the other +side of the river. Vardin sat +like a statue. Ramsey had +come to a conclusion: he did +not like letting Margot know +how he felt about her, but it +was mostly on a straight physical +level and he preferred +her discovering it to her +learning that he’d read the +proto-man letter from her father. +In his thoughts, though, +he never designated it as the +proto-man letter from her father. +He designated it as X.</p> + +<p>When they reached the +bank, Margot said: “I’m +sorry for slapping you.“</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry for making a +pass.“</p> + +<p>“Ramsey, tell me, what is +X?“</p> + +<p>Ramsey laughed harshly +and said nothing. That gave +Margot something to think +about. Maybe it would keep +her thoughts out of his mind, +keep her from reading….</p> + +<p>X marks the spot, thought +Ramsey. XXX marks the +spot-spot-spot. X is a spot in +a pot or a lot of rot….</p> + +<p>“Oh, stop it!“ Margot cried +irritably. “You’re thinking +nonsense.“</p> + +<p>“Then get the heck out of +my mind,“ Ramsey told her.</p> + +<p>Vardin walked on without +speaking. If she had any +inkling of what they were +talking about, she never mentioned +it.</p> + +<p>Margot said: “I still get the +impression.“</p> + +<p>“What impression?“</p> + +<p>“That we’re being followed. +That we’re being watched. +Every step of the way.“</p> + +<p>Wind and cold and darkness. +The hairs on the back of +Ramsey’s neck prickled. They +walked on, bent against the +wind.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Security Officer Second +Class Ramar Chind reported +to his Chief in the Hall of +Retribution the following +morning. Chind, a career man +with the Irwadi Security +Forces, did not like his new +boss. Garr Symm was no +career man. He knew nothing +of police procedure. It was +even rumored—probably +based upon solid fact—that +Garr Symm liked his brandy +excessively and often found +himself under its influence. +Worst of all—after all, a man +could understand a desire for +drink, even if, sometimes, it +interfered with work—worst +of all, Garr Symm was a scientist, +a dome-top in the +Irwadi vernacular. And +<a name="png.023" id="png.023"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">108</span><span class="ns">] + </span>hard-headed Ramar Chind lost no +love on dome-tops.</p> + +<p>He saluted crisply and +said: “You wanted to see me, +sir?“</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Garr Symm leaned forward +over his desk, making a tent +of his scaly green fingers and +peering over it. He said three +words. He said: “The Earthgirl +Dennison.“</p> + +<p>“The Spacer Graveyard,“ +Ramar Chind said promptly. +That was an easy one. His +agents had been following the +Dennison girl, at Garr +Symm’s orders. Ramar Chind +did not know why.</p> + +<p>“And?“ Garr Symm asked.</p> + +<p>“The Earthman Ramsey, +the Vegan Vardin, both are +with her. We can close in and +arrest the lot, sir, any time +you wish.“</p> + +<p>“Fool,“ Garr Symm said +softly, without malice. “That +is the last thing I want. Don’t +you understand that? No, I +guess you don’t.“</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.“</p> + +<p>“Their ship?“</p> + +<p>“Every morning after they +leave we go over it. Still two +or three nights away from +completion, sir. Also—“ +Ramar Chind smiled.</p> + +<p>“Yes, what is it?“</p> + +<p>“Two or three nights away +from completion, except for +one thing. They’ll need a fuel +supply. Two U-235 capsules +rigged for slow implosion, sir. +The hopper of their ship is +empty.“</p> + +<p>“Is there such a fuel supply +in the Graveyard?“</p> + +<p>“No, sir.“</p> + +<p>“But could there be?“</p> + +<p>“Usually, no. Naturally, the +junkers drain out spaceship +hoppers before scrapping +them. U-235 in any form +brings—“</p> + +<p>“I know the value of U-235. +Proceed.“</p> + +<p>“Well, there could be. If +they were lucky enough to find +such a fuel supply in one of +the wrecks in the Graveyard, +they wouldn’t be suspicious. +Naturally, we won’t put one +there.“</p> + +<p>“But you’re wrong, my dear +Ramar Chind. You’ll load the +hopper of one of those wrecks +with enough U-235 for their +purposes, and you’ll do it +today.“</p> + +<p>“But sir—“</p> + +<p>“We’re going to follow +them, Chind. You and I. We +want them to escape. If they +don’t escape, how can we follow +them?“</p> + +<p>Ramar Chind shrugged resignedly +and lisped: “How +much fuel will they need for +their purposes, sir, whatever +their purposes are?“ Naturally, +his lisping sounded perfectly +normal to Garr Symm, +<a name="png.024" id="png.024"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">109</span><span class="ns">] + </span>who also spoke in the sibilantless +Irwadi manner.</p> + +<p>“You’d really like to know, +wouldn’t you?“ Garr Symm +said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. To put me in a +position in which I could better +do my—“</p> + +<p>“To satisfy your curiosity, +you mean!“</p> + +<p>“But sir—“</p> + +<p>“I am a scientist, Chind.“</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.“</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />“Didn’t it strike you as odd +that a scientist should be elevated +to the top post in your +department?“</p> + +<p>“Of course, sir. I didn’t +question it, though.“</p> + +<p>“As you know, Chind, when +it was decided to planetarize +Irwadi as a first step toward +driving away the outworlders, +the quarters of every +outworlder on Irwadi were +thoroughly searched.“</p> + +<p>“I participated in the—uh, +program, sir.“</p> + +<p>“Good. Then I needn’t tell +you. Something was found in +Margot Dennison’s apartment. +Something of immense +importance. Something so important +that, if used properly, +it can assure Irwadi the dominant +place in the galaxy for +all time to come.“</p> + +<p>“But I thought Irwadi +craved isolation—“</p> + +<p>“Isolation, Chind? To be +sure, if intercourse with the +other galactic powers saw us +at the bottom of the heap. But +at the top—who would crave +isolation at the top?“</p> + +<p>“I see, sir. And the something +that was found needed +a scientist?“</p> + +<p>“Very perceptive of you, +Chind. Precisely. It was a +letter. We copied it. Of course, +Margot Dennison knows more +than what is in the letter; the +letter alludes to previous information. +We need Dennison +and Ramsey. We have to let +them go ahead with their +plans. Then we follow them, +Chind. You understand?“</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.“</p> + +<p>“You’re a good policeman, +Chind. The best we have, I +understand. You’ll be going +with me—on the most important +assignment you or any +Irwadian ever had.“</p> + +<p>“I am grateful, sir, that +you consider me—“</p> + +<p>“Now, see about that U-235 +slow-implosion capsule.“</p> + +<p>“At once, sir.“</p> + +<p>Saluting smartly, Ramar +Chind left Garr Symm’s office. +Symm smiled and sat +perfectly still for some minutes. +For Irwadi, yes, he was +thinking. Certainly for Irwadi. +For Irwadi absolutely. +To make Irwadi the most important +planet in the galaxy. +But important planets—in +<a name="png.025" id="png.025"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">110</span><span class="ns">] + </span>the way that Irwadi would +be important—couldn’t maintain +the status quo. For example, +Irwadi’s form of government +might have to be +changed. At present, an autocratic +bureaucracy with no +one man at the top. Ultimately, +after the rediscovery +of proto-man’s secret—rule +by one man.</p> + +<p>Garr Symm, absolute dictator +of the galaxy, if he played +his hand right.</p> + +<p>Garr Symm sat there for a +long time, dreaming of power +as no man before him on +any world had ever dreamed +of power….</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Vardin rushed into the airlock +of the Canopusian +freighter in a state of excitement. +At last they had given +her something to do, and she +had been successful at the +outset. Specifically, Ramsey +and the beautiful woman had +given her a scintillation-counter +and told her to prowl +among the wrecks with it +while they worked on the +control board of the freighter, +which the beautiful woman +had named <cite>Enterprise</cite>.</p> + +<p>“I found it!“ Vardin cried. +“I found it!“</p> + +<p>She led a sceptical Margot +Dennison outside while Ramsey +continued working on the +<cite>Enterprise</cite>. The two girls +walked swiftly through the +darkness between the wrecks. +By this time they knew every +foot of the Graveyard.</p> + +<p>“There,“ Vardin said. “You +see?“</p> + +<p>The scintillation counter +was clicking and blinking. +Margot smiled and went to +work with a portable mechanical +arm and a leaded bottle. +In ten minutes, she had the +slow-implosion capsule out of +the hopper of a battered old +<ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'Aldeberanese'">Aldebaranese</ins> cargo ship.</p> + +<p>“I never saw one of those +mechanical arms working before,” +Vardin said.</p> + +<p>Margot smiled. She was +delighted with the timid +Vegan girl, with the cold +night, with the way the wind +blew across the Graveyard, +with everything. They had +their fuel. Tomorrow night +the <cite>Enterprise</cite> would be ready +for its dash into hyper-space. +In thirty-six hours she might +have her hands on the most +valuable find in the history of +mankind….</p> + +<p>When they returned to the +<cite>Enterprise</cite>, she let Ramsey +kiss her and tried to slip the +telepathic tentacles of her +mind behind his guard—</p> + +<p>Lewd libidinous fantasies, +X stands for nothing for +nothing for nothing, XXX—she +got nowhere.</p> + +<p>What was X? What was +<a name="png.026" id="png.026"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">111</span><span class="ns">] + </span>Ramsey’s secret? Margot did +not know, and wondered if +she would ever find out.</p> + +<p>She smiled, reading Vardin’s +mind. For Vardin was +thinking: it must be so wonderful +to have beauty such as +she has, to melt the wills of +strong handsome men such as +Ramsey. It must be truly +wonderful.</p> + +<p>For the first twenty-eight +years of her life, Margot +Dennison would have agreed, +would have delighted in her +own beauty. She still did, to +a point. But beyond that +point, she could dream only +of proto-man and his secret.</p> + +<p>Beauty or power?</p> + +<p>She had beauty.</p> + +<p>She wanted power.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />In the early hours of the +following morning, behind the +cover of what appeared to be +a dense early morning fog but +what actually was an artificially +produced fog, a team of +Irwadi technicians swarmed +all over a battered Procyonian +cruiser of three thousand +tons. By mid-morning, working +swiftly and with all the +tools and spare parts they +would need, they made the +ship, called <cite>Dog Star</cite>, space-worthy.</p> + +<p>Later that day, but still +two hours before nightfall, +Ramar Chind arrived with a +small crew of three Security +Police. He had selected his +men carefully: they knew +how to handle a spaceship, +they knew how to fight, they +were quite ruthless. He +thought Garr Symm would be +pleased.</p> + +<p>Symm did not arrive until +just before nightfall. He was +very agitated when he came. +Ramar Chind, too, was eager. +What would happen within +the next several hours, he realized, +might be beyond his +ken, but he still recognized its +importance. And, being an +opportunist, he would pounce +on whatever he found of +value to himself….</p> + +<p>Several hours after the setting +of the Irwadi primary +had ushered in the cold night, +Margot Dennison, Ramsey +and Vardin arrived at the +Graveyard and made their +way at once to the <cite>Enterprise</cite>. +They went inside swiftly and +in a very few minutes prepared +the thousand-tonner +for blastoff. Ramsey’s mouth +was dry. He could barely keep +the thoughts of proto-man +from his mind. If Margot +read them….</p> + +<p>“Centauri here we come,” +he said, just to talk.</p> + +<p>“Centauri,” said Margot.</p> + +<p>But of course, she had another +destination in mind.</p> + +<p>Several hundred yards +<a name="png.027" id="png.027"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">112</span><span class="ns">] + </span>across the Graveyard, watching, +waiting, the occupants of +<cite>Dog Star</cite> were armed to the +teeth.</p> + +<p>Ramsey sat at the controls. +Vardin stood behind him +nervously. The space trip +from Vega to Irwadi was +probably the only one she had +ever taken. Margot sat, quite +relaxed, in the co-pilot’s chair.</p> + +<p>“I still can’t believe we’re +not going to feel anything,” +Vardin said in her soft, shy +voice.</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you ever been +through hyper-space before?” +Margot asked the Vegan girl.</p> + +<p>“Just once.”</p> + +<p>“In normal space,” Ramsey +explained, “we feel acceleration +and deceleration because +the increase or decrease in +velocity is experienced at different +micro-instants by all +the cells of our body. In +hyper-space the velocity is +felt simultaneously in all +parts of the ship, including +all parts of us. We become +weightless, of course, but the +change is instant and we feel +no pressure, no pain.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey was waiting until +0134:57 on the ship chronometer. +At that precise instant +in time, and at that instant +only, blastoff would place +them on the proper hyper-space +orbit. And, before they +could feel the mounting pressure +of blastoff, the timelessness +of hyper-space would +intervene.</p> + +<p>“0130:15,” Margot read +the chronometer for Ramsey. +“It won’t be long now. +30:20—”</p> + +<p>“All right,” Ramsey said +suddenly. “All right. I can +read the chronometer.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Ramsey! I do believe +you’re nervous.”</p> + +<p>“Anxious, Margot. A hyper-pilot +is always anxious just +before crossover. You’ve got +to be, because the slightest +miscalculation can send you +fifty thousand light years off +course.”</p> + +<p>“So? All you’d have to do is +re-enter hyper-space and go +back.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey shook his head. +“Hyper-space can only be entered +from certain points in +space. We’ve never been able +to figure out why.”</p> + +<p>“What certain points?”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Ramsey looked at her +steadily. “Points which vary +with the orbits of the three +thousand humanoid worlds, +Margot,” he said slowly. He +watched her for a reaction, +knowing that strange fact +about hyper-space—perfectly +true and never understood—dovetailed +with her father’s +letter about proto-man, an +unknown pre-human ancestor +<a name="png.028" id="png.028"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">113</span><span class="ns">] + </span>of all the humanoid races in +the galaxy, who had discovered +hyper-space, bred variations +to colonize all the inhabitable +worlds, found or +created the three thousand +crossover points in space, and +used them.</p> + +<p>Margot showed no response, +but then, Ramsey +told himself, she was a tri-di +actress. She could feign an +emotion—or hide one. She +merely asked: “Is it true that +there’s no such thing as time +in hyper-space?”</p> + +<p>“That’s right. That’s why +you can travel scores or hundreds +or thousands of light +years through hyper-space in +hours. Hyper-space is a continuum +of only three dimensions. +There is no fourth dimension, +no dimension of +duration.”</p> + +<p>“Then why aren’t trips +through hyper-space instantaneous? +They take several +hours, don’t they?”</p> + +<p>“Sure, but the way scientists +have it figured, that’s +subjective time. No objective +time passes at all. It can’t. +There isn’t any—in hyper-space.”</p> + +<p>“Then you mean—”</p> + +<p>Ramsey shook his head. +“0134:02,” he said. “It’s almost +time.”</p> + +<p>The seconds ticked away. +Even Margot did not seem +relaxed now. She stared nervously +at the chronometer, or +watched Ramsey’s lips as he +silently read away the seconds. +A place where time did +not exist, an under-stratum +of extension sans duration. +An idea suddenly entered her +mind, and she was afraid.</p> + +<p>If proto-man had colonized +the galactic worlds between +one and four or five million +years ago, but if time did not +exist for proto-man, then +wasn’t the super-race which +had engendered all mankind +still waiting in its timeless +home, waiting perhaps grimly +amused to see which of +their progeny first discovered +their secret? Or must proto-man, +like humans everywhere, +fall victim to subjective +time if objective time did +not matter for him?</p> + +<p>Ramsey was saying softly: +“Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five, +fifty-six … blastoff!”</p> + +<p>His hand slammed down on +the activating key.</p> + +<p>An instant later, having +felt no sensation of acceleration, +they were floating +weightlessly in the cabin of +the little <cite>Enterprise</cite>.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />“The qualities of radar,” +Garr Symm said, “exist in +their totality in a universe +of extension. Time, actually +is a drawback to radar, +<a name="png.029" id="png.029"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">114</span><span class="ns">] + </span>necessitating a duration-lag between +sending and receiving. +Therefore, Ramar Chind, radar +behaves perfectly in +hyper-space, as you see.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Ramar Chind said, +floating near the radar screen +aboard the <cite>Dog Star</cite>. At its +precise center was a bright +little pip of light.</p> + +<p><cite>The Enterprise</cite>….</p> + +<p>“But don’t we do anything +except follow them?” Ramar +Chind said after a long +silence.</p> + +<p>Garr Symm smiled. “Does +it really matter? You see, +Chind, time actually stands +still for us here. Duration is +purely subjective, so what’s +your hurry?”</p> + +<p>Ramar Chind licked his +lips nervously and stared +fascinated at the little pip +of bright light.</p> + +<p>Which suddenly dipped and +swung erratically.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />“What is it?” Margot asked. +“What’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Take it easy,” Ramsey +told her.</p> + +<p>“But the ship’s swooping. I +can feel it. I thought you +weren’t supposed to feel +movement in hyper-space!”</p> + +<p>“Relax, will you? There +are eddies in hyper-space, +that’s all. If you want an +analogy in terms of our own +universe, think of shoals in +an ocean—unmarked by +buoys or lights.”</p> + +<p>“You mean they have to +be avoided?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“But this particular shoal—it’s +midway between Irwadi +and Earth?”</p> + +<p>“There isn’t any ‘midway,’ +Margot. That’s the paradox +of hyper-space.”</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t understand.”</p> + +<p>“Look. In the normal universe, +extension is measured +by time. That is, it takes a +certain amount of time to get +from point A to point B. Conversely, +time is measured by +extension in space. On Earth, +a day of time passes when +Earth moves through space +on an arc one three-hundred-sixty-fifth +of its orbit around +the sun in length. Since there +isn’t any time to measure extension +with in hyper-space, +since time doesn’t exist here, +you can’t speak of mid-points.”</p> + +<p>“But this—shoal. It’s always +encountered in hyper-space +between Earth and +Irwadi?”</p> + +<p>Ramsey nodded. “Yes, that +is right.”</p> + +<p>Margot smiled.</p> + +<p>The smile suddenly froze +on her face.</p> + +<p>The <cite>Enterprise</cite> lurched as +if an unseen giant hand had +slapped it.</p> + +<p><a name="png.030" id="png.030"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">115</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>At that moment Ramsey +leaned forward over the controls, +battling to bring the +<cite>Enterprise</cite> back on course.</p> + +<p>And let down his mental +guard.</p> + +<p><i>… precise place in hyper-space +her father must have +meant … home of proto-man +… thinks I’m going to stop +there, she’s crazy … heck, +I’m no mystic, but there are +things not meant to be meddled +<span class="nw">with …</span></i></p> + +<p>The ship swooped again. +Ramsey went forward against +the control panel head-first +and fell dazed from the pilot +chair. His head whirled, his +arms and legs were suddenly +weak and rubbery. He tried +to stand up and make his way +back to the controls again, +but collapsed and went down +to his knees. He crouched +there, trying to shake the fog +from his brain.</p> + +<p>With a cry of triumph, +Margot Dennison leaped at +him and bore him down to the +floor with her weight. He was +still too dazed from the blow +on his head to offer any resistance +when her strong +hands tugged at his belt and +withdrew the m.g. gun. She +got up with it, backing away +from him quickly toward the +rear bulkhead as the ship +seemed to go into a smooth +glide which could be felt +within it. Vardin stood alongside +Ramsey, a hand to her +mouth in horror. Ramsey got +up slowly.</p> + +<p>“Stay where you are!” +Margot cried, pointing the +m.g. gun at him. “I’ll kill you +if I have to. I’ll kill you, +Ramsey, I mean it.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey did not move.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />“So you knew about my +father,” Margot challenged +him.</p> + +<p>“Yeah. So what?”</p> + +<p>“And this shoal in hyper-space +is a world, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>Ramsey nodded. “I think +so.”</p> + +<p>“O.K. Sit down at the controls, +Ramsey. That’s right. +Don’t try anything.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey was seated in the +pilot chair again. His head +was still whirling but his +strength had returned. He +wondered if he could chance +rushing her but told himself +she meant what she said. She +would kill him in cold blood +if she had to.</p> + +<p>“Bring the <cite>Enterprise</cite> +down on that world, Ramsey.”</p> + +<p>He sat there and stubbornly +shook his head. “Margot, +you’ll be meddling with a +power beyond human understanding.”</p> + +<p>“Rubbish! You read my +father’s letter, didn’t you? +That fear’s been implanted in +<a name="png.031" id="png.031"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">116</span><span class="ns">] + </span>your genes. It’s part of the +heredity of our people. It’s +rubbish. Bring the ship +down.”</p> + +<p>Still Ramsey did not move. +Vardin looked from him to +Margot Dennison and back +again with horror in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“I’ll count three,” Margot +said. “Then I’ll shoot the +Vegan girl. Do you understand?”</p> + +<p>Ramsey’s face went white.</p> + +<p>“One,” Margot said.</p> + +<p>Vardin stared at him beseechingly.</p> + +<p>Ramsey said: “All right, +Margot. All right.”</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, subjective +time, the <cite>Enterprise</cite> +landed with a lurch.</p> + +<p>That they had reached a +world in hyper-space there +could be no doubt. But outside +the portholes of the little +freighter was only the murky +grayness of the timeless +hyper-space continuum.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />“They’ve gone down, sir!” +Ramar Chind cried.</p> + +<p>Garr Symm nodded. For +the first time he was really +nervous. He wondered about +the Dennison letter. Could his +fear be attributed to ancestral +memory, as Dennison had indicated? +Was it really baseless—this +crawling, cold-fingered +hand of fear on his +spine?</p> + +<p>There was no physical +barrier. The <cite>Enterprise</cite> had +established that fact. Then +was there a barrier which +Garr Symm, along with all +humanoids, had somehow +inherited?</p> + +<p>A barrier of stark terror, +subjective and unfounded on +fact?</p> + +<p>And beyond it—what?</p> + +<p>Power to chain the universe….</p> + +<p>Think, Garr Symm told +himself. You’ve got to be rational. +You’re a scientist. +You’ve been trained as a scientist. +This is their barrier, +erected against you, against +all humanoids, a million years +ago. It isn’t real. It’s all in +your mind.</p> + +<p>“Do you want me to follow +them down?” Ramar Chind +asked.</p> + +<p>Garr Symm envied the policeman. +Naturally, Ramar +Chind did not share his terror. +You didn’t know the terror +until you learned about +proto-man; then the response +seemed to be triggered in +your brain, as if it had been +passed to you through the +genes of your ancestors, +waiting a million years for +release….</p> + +<p>Fear, a guardian.</p> + +<p>Of what? Garr Symm asked +himself. Think of that, +fool. Think of what it guards.</p> + +<p><a name="png.032" id="png.032"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">117</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Power—</p> + +<p>Teleportation or its equivalent.</p> + +<p>Gone the subjective passage +of hours in hyper-space.</p> + +<p>Earned—if you were +strong enough or brave +enough to earn it—the ability +to travel instantly from one +humanoid world to another. +Instantly. Perhaps from any +one point on any humanoid +world to any one point, precise, +specific, exact, on another +world.</p> + +<p>To plunder.</p> + +<p>Or assassinate.</p> + +<p>Or control the lives of men, +everywhere.</p> + +<p><i>Sans</i> ship.</p> + +<p><i>Sans</i> fear.</p> + +<p><i>Sans</i> the possibility of +being caught or stopped.</p> + +<p>Sweating, Garr Symm +said: “Bring the <cite>Dog Star</cite> +down after them, Ramar +Chind.”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Ramsey smiled without +humor. “What now, little +lady?” he said mockingly.</p> + +<p>“Shut up. Oh, shut up!”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do +now?”</p> + +<p>“I told you to shut up. I +have to think.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know a gorgeous<!-- opening quote missing from scan --> +tri-di actress ever had to +think.”</p> + +<p>“Let me see those figures +again,” Margot said.</p> + +<p>Ramsey handed her the +tapes from the <cite>Enterprise’s</cite> +environment-checker.</p> + +<p>Temperature: minus two +hundred and twenty degrees +Fahrenheit.</p> + +<p>Atmosphere: none.</p> + +<p>Gravity: eight-tenths +Earth-norm.</p> + +<p>“And we don’t have a +spacesuit aboard,” Ramsey +said.</p> + +<p>“But it can’t be. It can’t. +This is the home of proto-man. +I know it is. But if I +went out there I’d perish from +cold in seconds and lack of +air in minutes.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” Ramsey +said almost cheerfully. “So +do I take the ship back up?”</p> + +<p>“I hate you, Jason Ramsey. +Oh, I hate you!” Margot +cried. Then suddenly: “Wait! +Wait a minute! What was +that you were thinking? Tell +me! You must tell me—”</p> + +<p>Ramsey shook his head and +tried to force the thoughts +from his mind with doggerel. +Ben Adam, he thought. Abou<!-- referencing James Leigh Hunt's poem "Abou Ben Adhem" --> +Ben Adam, Humpty Dumpty, +hurry, hurry, hurry, the only +two headed get yours here the +sum of the square of the sides +is equal to the square of the +hyper-space, no, mustn’t think +that mimsy were the borogroves <!-- misremembering "All mimsy were the borogoves; And the mome raths outgrabe." + Lewis Carroll, Rectory Umbrella and Mischmasch --> +and the momraths now +what the heck did the momraths +do anyhow absolute +<a name="png.033" id="png.033"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">118</span><span class="ns">] + </span>zero is the temperature at +which all molecular activity….</p> + +<p>“What were you thinking, +Ramsey?”</p> + +<p>His mind was a labyrinth. +There were thousands of discrete +thoughts, of course. +Millions of them, collected +over a lifetime. But all at once +he did not know his way +through that labyrinth and +his thoughts kept whirling +back to the one Margot Dennison +wanted as if, somehow, +she could pluck it from his +mind.</p> + +<p>She stood before him, her +brow furrowed, sweat beading +her pretty face.</p> + +<p>And she was winning, forcing +the thought to take shape +in Ramsey’s mind—</p> + +<p><i>But if<ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + 'I' invisible in scan"> I </ins>went out there I’d +perish from cold in seconds +and lack of air in minutes.</i></p> + +<p><i>Cold</i>, came the known and +unbidden thoughts to Ramsey’s +struggling mind. <i>And +lack of air. Attributes of extension, +of space</i>, but measured +by duration, by time. +<i>And since time does not exist +in hyper-space, the vacuum +out there and the terrible, +killing cold, could have no +effect on you. You could go +out there perfectly protected +from the lethal environment +by the absence of the time +dimension.</i></p> + +<p>Margot smiled at him. +“Thank you,” she said. +“Thank you, Ramsey.”</p> + +<p>He was about to speak, but +she added: “And don’t give +me that stuff about a power +we shouldn’t tamper with. +I’m going out there. Now.”</p> + +<p>Ramsey nodded slowly. “I +won’t stop you.”</p> + +<p>“But just so you don’t get +any ideas of stranding me +here—Vardin. Vardin’s going +with me.”</p> + +<p>The Vegan girl looked at +Ramsey mutely.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Ramsey said: “What makes +you think I’ll let you take +her?”</p> + +<p>Margot smiled again. “The +m.g. gun makes me think so.”</p> + +<p>“The heck of it is, you’re +not really bad, Margot. This +thing’s got you, is all. You’re +not essentially evil.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you for the thrilling +compliment. I’m delighted,” +Margot said sarcastically.</p> + +<p>“Vardin stays with me.”</p> + +<p>Margot reminded him of +the lethal m.g. gun by showing +it to him, muzzle-first.</p> + +<p>He laughed in her face. “Go +ahead and shoot.”</p> + +<p>She stared at him.</p> + +<p>“There isn’t a lethal weapon’d +do you any good here +in a timeless continuum. Take +an m.g. gun. It induces an +<a name="png.034" id="png.034"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">119</span><span class="ns">] + </span>artificial breakdown of radioactive +fuel in its chamber, +firing an instantly lethal dose +of radiation. But in order for +radioactive breakdown to occur, +time must pass. Even if +it’s only milliseconds, as in +the case of an m.g. gun. There +aren’t any milliseconds on +this world, Margot. There +isn’t any time. So go ahead +and pull the trigger.”</p> + +<p>Margot frowned and pointed +the gun to one side and +fired.</p> + +<p>Nothing happened. Margot +almost looked as if her hard +shell had been sundered by +the impotence of the m.g. gun. +She pouted. Her eyes gleamed +moistly.</p> + +<p>Then Ramsey said: “O.K. +Let’s go.”</p> + +<p>“What—what do you +mean?”</p> + +<p>“Out there. All of us.”</p> + +<p>“But I thought you said—”</p> + +<p>“Sure, I’m scared stiff. A +normal man would be. It’s in +our genes, according to your +father. But I’m also a man. +What the devil d’you think it +was first got man out of his +cave and started along the +road to civilization and the +stars? It was curiosity. Fear +restraining him, and curiosity +egging him on. Which do you +think won in the end?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Ramsey, I could kiss +you!”</p> + +<p>“Go right ahead,” Ramsey +said, and she did.</p> + +<p>They opened the airlock. +They went outside smiling.</p> + +<p>But Vardin, who went with +them, wasn’t smiling. There +was sadness instead.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />In cumbersome spacesuits, +the five Irwadians made their +way from the <cite>Dog Star</cite> to the +<cite>Enterprise</cite>. Ramar Chind and +his three policemen carried +m.g. guns; Garr Symm was +unarmed. Chind used a whorl-neutralizer +to force the pattern +of the lock on the outer +door of the <cite>Enterprise’s</cite> airlock. +Then the five of them +plunged inside the ship.</p> + +<p>The inner door was not +closed.</p> + +<p>The <cite>Enterprise</cite> was empty.</p> + +<p>Garr Symm looked doubtfully +at the gray murkiness +behind them. Although the +<cite>Dog Star</cite> stood out there less +than a quarter of a mile +away, they couldn’t see it +through the murk.</p> + +<p>“Where did they go?” +Ramar Chind asked.</p> + +<p>Symm waved vaguely behind +them.</p> + +<p>Chind and his men turned +around.</p> + +<p>Gritting his teeth against +the fear which welled up like +nausea from the pit of his +stomach, Garr Symm went +with them.</p> + +<p><a name="png.035" id="png.035"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">120</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>At that moment they all +heard the music.</p> + +<p>“You hear it?” Ramsey +asked softly. His voice did not +carry on the airless world, +of course. But he spoke, and +the words were understood, +not merely by Margot, who +could read his mind, but by +Vardin as well.</p> + +<p>“Music,” said Margot. +“Isn’t it—beautiful?”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Ramsey nodded slowly. He +could barely see Margot, although +he held her hand. He +could barely see Vardin although +they stood hand in +hand too. The music was un-Earthly, +incapable of repetition, +indescribably the loveliest +sound he had ever heard. +He wanted to sink down into +the obscuring gray murk and +weep and listen to the haunting, +sad, lovely strains of +sound forever.</p> + +<p>“What can it possibly be?” +Margot asked.</p> + +<p>Surprisingly, it was Vardin +who answered. “Music of the +Spheres,” she said. “It’s a +legend on Vega III, my +world.”</p> + +<p>“And on Earth,” Ramsey +said.</p> + +<p>Vardin told them: “On all +worlds. And, like all such +legends, it has a basis in reality. +This is the basis.”</p> + +<p>That didn’t sound like timid +little Vardin at all. Ramsey +listened in amazement. He +thought he heard Vardin +laugh.</p> + +<p>Music. But didn’t the notes +need the medium of time in +which to be heard? How +could they hear music here +at all? Or were they hearing +it? Perhaps it merely impinged +on their minds, their +souls, just as they were able +to hear one another’s thoughts +as words….</p> + +<p>They’d never understand +fully, Ramsey knew suddenly. +Perhaps they could grasp a +little of the nature of this +place, a shadow here, the +half-suggestion of the substance +of reality there, a stillborn +thought here, a note of +celestial music there, the timeless +legacy of proto-man, +whatever proto-man was….</p> + +<p>“The fog is lifting!” Vardin +cried.</p> + +<p>The fog was not lifting.</p> + +<p>Then it was.</p> + +<p>Ramsey would never forget +that. Vardin had spoken while +the dense gray murk enveloped +them completely.</p> + +<p>Then it began to grow +tenuous.</p> + +<p>As if Vardin’s words had +made it so. Little Vardin, shy, +frightened Vardin, suddenly, +inexplicably, the strongest, +surest one among them….</p> + +<p>The sky, white and +<a name="png.036" id="png.036"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">121</span><span class="ns">] + </span>dazzling, glistened. The gray +murk glistened too, a hundred +yards off in all directions, like +a wall of polished glass surrounding +them.</p> + +<p>In the very middle of the +bell-jar of visibility granted +them all at once, stood a black +rectangular object.</p> + +<p>“The teleporter!” Margot +cried. “The matter-transmitter! +I know it is. I <em>know</em> it +is!”</p> + +<p>Ramsey stood waiting +breathlessly.</p> + +<p>No, he realized abruptly, +not breathlessly. You couldn’t +say breathlessly.</p> + +<p>For Ramsey had not +breathed, not once, since they +left the <cite>Enterprise</cite>.</p> + +<p>You didn’t breathe on a +timeless world. You merely—somehow—existed.</p> + +<p>“It’s opening!” Margot +cried.</p> + +<p>The black rectangle, ominously +coffin-shaped, was indeed +opening.</p> + +<p>“The matter transmitter,” +Margot said a second time. +“The secret of proto-man, of +our ancestors who colonized +all the worlds of space with +it, instantly, at the same +cosmic moment. Think of +what it means, Ramsey, can +you? Instantaneous travel, +anywhere, without the need +for energy since energy cannot +be used here, without the +passage of time since time +does not exist here.” She +stood transfixed, looking at +the black box. The lid had +lifted at right angles to the +rest of the box.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Margot said, in the whisper +of an awed thought: +“Who controls it controls the +galaxy….”</p> + +<p>And she walked toward the +box.</p> + +<p>At that moment Ramsey +had a vision. He saw—or +thought he saw—Margot +Dennison in the costume she +had worn when they first met. +She stood, eyes wide, fearful, +expectant, before a chess-board. +The pieces seemed to +be spaceships. It was a perfectly +clear vision, but it was +the only such vision Ramsey +had ever been vouchsafed in +his life. He was no mystic. He +did not know what to make +of it.</p> + +<p>Playing chess with Margot +was—proto-man.</p> + +<p>Ramsey only saw his hand.</p> + +<p>A hand perhaps five million +years old.</p> + +<p>He blinked. The vision persisted, +superimposed over +Margot’s figure as she walked +toward the box.</p> + +<p>A game, he thought. Because +we don’t understand it. +Not that kind of power. Not +the power a matter-transmitter +<a name="png.037" id="png.037"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">122</span><span class="ns">] + </span>would give. A cosmic game +on a chess-board which wasn’t +quite a chess-board, with a +creature who had never lived +as we know life and so could +never die….</p> + +<p>With the future of the +galaxy hanging in the balance. +Life or death for man +hanging on a slim thread, because +man wasn’t ready for +matter-transmission, couldn’t +hope to use it wisely, would +use it perhaps for war, transmitting +lethal weapons, thermonuclear, +world-destroying +weapons, instantly through +space, for delivery anywhere, +negating time….</p> + +<p>Death hovered.</p> + +<p>“Wait!” Ramsey called, and +ran forward.</p> + +<p>Just then five new figures, +space-suited, appeared under +the gleaming dome.</p> + +<p>“Stop that woman!” a voice +which Ramsey should not +have been able to hear but +which he somehow heard perfectly +cried. “Stop her!”</p> + +<p>M.g. guns were raised, +fired.</p> + +<p>Without effect.</p> + +<p>Three of the spacesuited +figures ran after Margot as +the voice repeated: “Stop her! +The box is mine, mine!”</p> + +<p>It was Garr Symm’s voice.</p> + +<p>Ramsey did not know if he +should stop Margot himself, +or fight Symm’s men. Although +they couldn’t use their +weapons on this world, they +could still hurt—possibly even +kill—Margot. Ramsey turned +and waited for them.</p> + +<p>The strange, mystic vision +was gone. He saw only three +space-suited figures, saw +Margot walking steadily toward +the box. Either she was +moving very slowly or the box +retreated or it was further +away than it had looked at +first. For she hadn’t reached +it yet.</p> + +<p>Ramsey met the space-suited +figures head-on.</p> + +<p>There were three of them, +but they were awkward in +their suits, cumbersome, incapable +of quick responses.</p> + +<p>Ramsey hit the first one in +the belly and darted back. +His fist felt contact with the +soft bulk of the insulined suit, +then with the harder bulk of +the man. He struck again, +harder this time.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />The <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'scalely'">scaly</ins> green face of +the Irwadi within the space-suit +grimaced with pain. He +doubled over and fell, his +helmet shattering against the +ground at Ramsey’s feet.</p> + +<p>Then an incredible thing +happened. The Irwadi opened +his mouth to scream. His face +froze. He lost his air. His face +bloated.</p> + +<p>And he died.</p> + +<p><a name="png.038" id="png.038"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">123</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>Ramsey couldn’t believe his +eyes.</p> + +<p>It was not possible to die +from lack of air or from cold +on a world without the time +continuum. Ramsey, Vardin +and Margot had proved that +by venturing out without protection.</p> + +<p>But the Irwadi had died.</p> + +<p>Mental suggestion?</p> + +<p>Because he thought he +would die?</p> + +<p>Because that was the only +way you could perish on a +world lacking in the time +dimension—by your own +thoughts?</p> + +<p>The second space-suited +figure closed with Ramsey +awkwardly. Ramsey hit him. +The man of Irwadi fell, his +helmet cracked, he tried to +scream—and died.</p> + +<p>The third man fled.</p> + +<p>Ramsey ran after Margot. +“Wait!” he cried. He couldn’t +talk to her about his fantastic +vision. It was personal. She +wouldn’t understand. Mystic +experience always is like that. +And yet, with the conviction +that only a mystic can have—although +he certainly was no +mystic—Ramsey knew the +galaxy would be in grave +trouble if mankind were given +the secret of matter-transmission.</p> + +<p>A voice said: “You are +right.”</p> + +<p>It was Vardin’s voice, and +Vardin went on:</p> + +<p>“Ramsey, stop her. I can’t +stop her. It is only granted +that I observe—and convince, +if I can. I am not a Vegan +girl. I am—”</p> + +<p>Ramsey said it. “Proto-man!”</p> + +<p>“There aren’t many of us +left. We discovered matter-transmission. +We used it +once, to people the worlds of +the galaxy. It was our final +creative effort. We merely +observe now, unable to destroy +our creation, trying to +keep it out of mankind’s +hands. You see—”</p> + +<p>“Then back on Irwadi you +knew all along we would come +here!”</p> + +<p>“I was vouchsafed the vision, +yes. Even as you—stop +her, Ramsey. You must stop +her!”</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Ramsey sprinted forward. +Margot was nearing the black +coffin now.</p> + +<p>Ramsey ran at her, and +tackled her.</p> + +<p>They went down together, +the girl fighting like a tigress, +tooth and nail, wildly, sobbing, +striking out at Ramsey +with small impotent fists, until +he subdued her. Panting, +they glared at each other.</p> + +<p>And could not stop Garr +Symm from running past +<a name="png.039" id="png.039"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">124</span><span class="ns">] + </span>them, eyes rapt behind the +plastiglass of his helmet, and +jumping into the black box.</p> + +<p>“To the end of the universe +and back!” he cried. “Take +me there and back. Instantly. +Prove to me that you work! +Now….” His voice trailed +off. He had addressed the +black rectangle almost as if it +were something alive.</p> + +<p class="tb"><br class="ns" + />Ramsey thought he heard +a growl from the box. He +stood before it, looking in. +The hackles rose on his neck.</p> + +<p>“You see,” Vardin said. +“My ancestors and yours discovered +the power of a god—and +did not understand it. We +were incorporeal. We created +life—your ancestors. We patterned +it to fit the evolution +of the three thousand worlds. +Human life. Millions of them, +colonists for the worlds of +normal space. We were tampering +in our tragic pride, +Ramsey, with forces we would +never comprehend.</p> + +<p>“We colonized the worlds, +deciding that physical existence, +along with the mental +prowess we had, was the ideal +state. A few of us, like myself, +or my ancestors if you +wish, although the purely +mental lives continuously—a +few of us stayed behind and +saw—the loss of a million +years!”</p> + +<p>Ramsey’s eyes still could +not pierce the darkness inside +the box.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” he +asked in an awed voice.</p> + +<p>“We sent out god-like men. +We did not understand our +discovery. The god-like men—but +look at Garr Symm.”</p> + +<p>The spacesuited figure got +up slowly. It blinked at Ramsey. +It growled. It had a recognizably +green, scale-skinned +face. But it was not the face +of Garr Symm. It was the +face of Garr Symm’s caveman +ancestors, a million +years ago….</p> + +<p>“This is what happened to +my people,” Vardin said.</p> + +<p>She looked at Ramar Chind +and Chind, responding, went +to Garr Symm and led him +quietly back toward the <cite>Dog +Star</cite>. Chind never said a +word. Garr Symm growled.</p> + +<p>“Take the Earthgirl and +go,” Vardin told Ramsey.</p> + +<p>“But I—you—aren’t you +coming?”</p> + +<p>“My work is finished,” +Vardin told him. “For now.”</p> + +<p>“For now?”</p> + +<p>“I am a guardian. When +I am needed again—” She +shrugged her slim blue shoulders.</p> + +<p>“But Margot will never be +content now,” Ramsey protested. +“Not when she’s come +so close.”</p> + +<p><a name="png.040" id="png.040"></a><span class="ns">[p </span><span + class="pgmark">125</span><span class="ns">]<br + /></span>“She’ll understand. Just as +you understand. You’ll be +good for each other, Ramsey, +you and the girl. She’s had +only her fierce pride and her +dreams of power. She has +room for love. She needs +love.”</p> + +<p>“But you—”</p> + +<p>“I? I am nothing. I am the +end-product of an equation +our ancestors found a million +years ago. An equation to give +them god-like power. Instead +it made them savages and I +have had to watch their slow +climb back to the stars. An +equation, Ramsey. Almost an +equation of doom. Now go.”</p> + +<p>Vardin flickered, became +insubstantial. Her body seemed +to melt into the gray mists.</p> + +<p>The gleaming walls were +gone. The black box was gone. +Vardin was gone.</p> + +<p>Ramsey led Margot back to +the <cite>Enterprise</cite>.</p> + +<p>Moments later—although +the elapsed time was subjective—they +blasted off.</p> + +<p>Margot opened her eyes. +She had been sleeping. She +smiled at Ramsey tremulously. +“I love you,” she said. Her +words seemed to surprise her.</p> + +<p>“I can’t go back to Earth,” +Ramsey said.</p> + +<p>“Who wants to go back to +Earth—if you can’t?”</p> + +<p>They had, Ramsey knew, +all of space and the life-span +of mortal man to enjoy together.</p> + + +<p class="rt sans tb"><small><strong>THE END</strong></small></p> +</div> + + + +<div class="tnote"> +<h3>Transcriber’s note:</h3> + +<p>Inconsistent hyphenation (matter transmitter/matter-transmitter, +scintillation counter/scintillation-counter, spacesuit/space-suit) has been retained.</p> + +<p><span class="nopr">Corrections to spelling are flagged <ins class="TN" title="Transcriber's note: + original reads 'this'">thus</ins>; holding the mouse over the word will show a note of the original printing.</span> + Deliberate mis-spellings (borogroves, momraths; plus all the lithping) have been retained. + Minor changes to punctuation were made without comment.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EQUATION OF DOOM***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 29146-h.txt or 29146-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/1/4/29146">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/1/4/29146</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution.</p> + + + +<pre> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> |