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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Death Wish, by Robert Sheckley
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Death Wish
+
+Author: Robert Sheckley
+
+Illustrator: Weiss
+
+Release Date: August 31, 2009 [EBook #29876]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH WISH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Death Wish
+
+By NED LANG
+
+Illustrated by WEISS
+
+
+ Compared with a spaceship in distress, going
+ to hell in a handbasket is roomy and slow!
+
+
+The space freighter _Queen Dierdre_ was a great, squat, pockmarked
+vessel of the Earth-Mars run and she never gave anyone a bit of trouble.
+That should have been sufficient warning to Mr. Watkins, her engineer.
+Watkins was fond of saying that there are two kinds of equipment--the
+kind that fails bit by bit, and the kind that fails all at once.
+
+Watkins was short and red-faced, magnificently mustached, and always a
+little out of breath. With a cigar in his hand, over a glass of beer, he
+talked most cynically about his ship, in the immemorial fashion of
+engineers. But in reality, Watkins was foolishly infatuated with
+_Dierdre_, idealized her, humanized her, and couldn't conceive of
+anything serious ever happening.
+
+On this particular run, _Dierdre_ soared away from Terra at the proper
+speed; Mr. Watkins signaled that fuel was being consumed at the proper
+rate; and Captain Somers cut the engines at the proper moment indicated
+by Mr. Rajcik, the navigator.
+
+As soon as Point Able had been reached and the engines stopped, Somers
+frowned and studied his complex control board. He was a thin and
+meticulous man, and he operated his ship with mechanical perfection. He
+was well liked in the front offices of Mikkelsen Space Lines, where Old
+Man Mikkelsen pointed to Captain Somers' reports as models of neatness
+and efficiency. On Mars, he stayed at the Officers' Club, eschewing the
+stews and dives of Marsport. On Earth, he lived in a little Vermont
+cottage and enjoyed the quiet companionship of two cats, a Japanese
+houseboy, and a wife.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+His instructions read true. And yet he sensed something wrong. Somers
+knew every creak, rattle and groan that _Dierdre_ was capable of making.
+During blastoff, he had heard something _different_. In space, something
+different had to be wrong.
+
+"Mr. Rajcik," he said, turning to his navigator, "would you check the
+cargo? I believe something may have shifted."
+
+"You bet," Rajcik said cheerfully. He was an almost offensively handsome
+young man with black wavy hair, blasé blue eyes and a cleft chin.
+Despite his appearance, Rajcik was thoroughly qualified for his
+position. But he was only one of fifty thousand thoroughly qualified men
+who lusted for a berth on one of the fourteen spaceships in existence.
+Only Stephen Rajcik had had the foresight, appearance and fortitude to
+court and wed Helga, Old Man Mikkelsen's eldest daughter.
+
+Rajcik went aft to the cargo hold. _Dierdre_ was carrying transistors
+this time, and microfilm books, platinum filaments, salamis, and other
+items that could not as yet be produced on Mars. But the bulk of her
+space was taken by the immense Fahrensen Computer.
+
+Rajcik checked the positioning lines on the monster, examined the stays
+and turnbuckles that held it in place, and returned to the cabin.
+
+"All in order, Boss," he reported to Captain Somers, with the smile that
+only an employer's son-in-law can both manage and afford.
+
+"Mr. Watkins, do you read anything?"
+
+Watkins was at his own instrument panel. "Not a thing, sir. I'll vouch
+for every bit of equipment in _Dierdre_."
+
+"Very well. How long before we reach Point Baker?"
+
+"Three minutes, Chief," Rajcik said.
+
+"Good."
+
+The spaceship hung in the void, all sensation of speed lost for lack of
+a reference point. Beyond the portholes was darkness, the true color of
+the Universe, perforated by the brilliant lost points of the stars.
+
+Captain Somers turned away from the disturbing reminder of his extreme
+finitude and wondered if he could land _Dierdre_ without shifting the
+computer. It was by far the largest, heaviest and most delicate piece of
+equipment ever transported in space.
+
+He worried about that machine. Its value ran into the billions of
+dollars, for Mars Colony had ordered the best possible, a machine whose
+utility would offset the immense transportation charge across space. As
+a result, the Fahrensen Computer was perhaps the most complex and
+advanced machine ever built by Man.
+
+"Ten seconds to Point Baker," Rajcik announced.
+
+"Very well." Somers readied himself at the control board.
+
+"Four--three--two--one--fire!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Somers activated the engines. Acceleration pressed the three men back
+into their couches, and more acceleration, and--shockingly--still more
+acceleration.
+
+"The fuel!" Watkins yelped, watching his indicators spinning.
+
+"The course!" Rajcik gasped, fighting for breath.
+
+Captain Somers cut the engine switch. The engines continued firing,
+pressing the men deeper into their couches. The cabin lights flickered,
+went out, came on again.
+
+And still the acceleration mounted and _Dierdre's_ engines howled in
+agony, thrusting the ship forward. Somers raised one leaden hand and
+inched it toward the emergency cut-off switch. With a fantastic
+expenditure of energy, he reached the switch, depressed it.
+
+The engines stopped with dramatic suddenness, while tortured metal
+creaked and groaned. The lights flickered rapidly, as though _Dierdre_
+were blinking in pain. They steadied and then there was silence.
+
+Watkins hurried to the engine room. He returned morosely.
+
+"Of all the damn things," he muttered.
+
+"What was it?" Captain Somers asked.
+
+"Main firing circuit. It fused on us." He shook his head. "Metal
+fatigue, I'd say. It must have been flawed for years."
+
+"When was it last checked out?"
+
+"Well, it's a sealed unit. Supposed to outlast the ship. Absolutely
+foolproof, unless--"
+
+"Unless it's flawed."
+
+"Don't blame it on me! Those circuits are supposed to be X-rayed,
+heat-treated, fluoroscoped--you just can't trust machinery!"
+
+At last Watkins believed that engineering axiom.
+
+"How are we on fuel?" Captain Somers asked.
+
+"Not enough left to push a kiddy car down Main Street," Watkins said
+gloomily. "If I could get my hands on that factory inspector ..."
+
+Captain Somers turned to Rajcik, who was seated at the navigator's desk,
+hunched over his charts. "How does this affect our course?"
+
+Rajcik finished the computation he was working on and gnawed
+thoughtfully at his pencil.
+
+"It kills us. We're going to cross the orbit of Mars before Mars gets
+there."
+
+"How long before?"
+
+"Too long. Captain, we're flying out of the Solar System like the
+proverbial bat out of hell."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rajcik smiled, a courageous, devil-may-care smile which Watkins found
+singularly inappropriate.
+
+"Damn it, man," he roared, "don't just leave it there. We've got a
+little fuel left. We can turn her, can't we? You _are_ a navigator,
+aren't you?"
+
+"I am," Rajcik said icily. "And if I computed my courses the way you
+maintain your engines, we'd be plowing through Australia now."
+
+"Why, you little company toady! At least I got my job legitimately, not
+by marrying--"
+
+"That's enough!" Captain Somers cut in.
+
+Watkins, his face a mottled red, his mustache bristling, looked like a
+walrus about to charge. And Rajcik, eyes glittering, was waiting
+hopefully.
+
+"No more of this," Somers said. "I give the orders here."
+
+"Then give some!" Watkins snapped. "Tell him to plot a return curve.
+This is life or death!"
+
+"All the more reason for remaining cool. Mr. Rajcik, can you plot such a
+course?"
+
+"First thing I tried," Rajcik said. "Not a chance, on the fuel we have
+left. We can turn a degree or two, but it won't help."
+
+Watkins said, "Of course it will! We'll curve back into the Solar
+System!"
+
+"Sure, but the best curve we can make will take a few thousand years for
+us to complete."
+
+"Perhaps a landfall on some other planet--Neptune, Uranus--"
+
+Rajcik shook his head. "Even if an outer planet were in the right place
+at the right time, we'd need fuel--a lot of fuel--to get into a braking
+orbit. And if we could, who'd come get us? No ship has gone past Mars
+yet."
+
+"At least we'd have a chance," Watkins said.
+
+"Maybe," Rajcik agreed indifferently. "But we can't swing it. I'm afraid
+you'll have to kiss the Solar System good-by."
+
+Captain Somers wiped his forehead and tried to think of a plan. He
+found it difficult to concentrate. There was too great a discrepancy
+between his knowledge of the situation and its appearance. He
+knew--intellectually--that his ship was traveling out of the Solar
+System at a tremendous rate of speed. But in appearance they were
+stationary, hung in the abyss, three men trapped in a small, hot room,
+breathing the smell of hot metal and perspiration.
+
+"What shall we do, Captain?" Watkins asked.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Somers frowned at the engineer. Did the man expect him to pull a
+solution out of the air? How was he even supposed to concentrate on the
+problem? He had to slow the ship, turn it. But his senses told him that
+the ship was not moving. How, then, could speed constitute a problem?
+
+He couldn't help but feel that the real problem was to get away from
+these high-strung, squabbling men, to escape from this hot, smelly
+little room.
+
+"Captain! You must have some idea!"
+
+Somers tried to shake his feeling of unreality. The problem, the real
+problem, he told himself, was how to stop the ship.
+
+He looked around the fixed cabin and out the porthole at the unmoving
+stars. _We are moving very rapidly_, he thought, unconvinced.
+
+Rajcik said disgustedly, "Our noble captain can't face the situation."
+
+"Of course I can," Somers objected, feeling very light-headed and
+unreal. "I can pilot any course you lay down. That's my only real
+responsibility. Plot us a course to Mars!"
+
+"Sure!" Rajcik said, laughing. "I can! I will! Engineer, I'm going to
+need plenty of fuel for this course--about ten tons! See that I get it!"
+
+"Right you are," said Watkins. "Captain, I'd like to put in a
+requisition for ten tons of fuel."
+
+"Requisition granted," Somers said. "All right, gentlemen,
+responsibility is inevitably circular. Let's get a grip on ourselves.
+Mr. Rajcik, suppose you radio Mars."
+
+When contact had been established, Somers took the microphone and stated
+their situation. The company official at the other end seemed to have
+trouble grasping it.
+
+"But can't you turn the ship?" he asked bewilderedly. "Any kind of an
+orbit--"
+
+"No. I've just explained that."
+
+"Then what do you propose to do, Captain?"
+
+"That's exactly what I'm asking you."
+
+There was a babble of voices from the loudspeaker, punctuated by bursts
+of static. The lights flickered and reception began to fade. Rajcik,
+working frantically, managed to re-establish the contact.
+
+"Captain," the official on Mars said, "we can't think of a thing. If you
+could swing into any sort of an orbit--"
+
+"I can't!"
+
+"Under the circumstances, you have the right to try anything at all.
+Anything, Captain!"
+
+Somers groaned. "Listen, I can think of just one thing. We could bail
+out in spacesuits as near Mars as possible. Link ourselves together,
+take the portable transmitter. It wouldn't give much of a signal, but
+you'd know our approximate position. Everything would have to be figured
+pretty closely--those suits just carry twelve hours' air--but it's a
+chance."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a confusion of voices from the other end. Then the official
+said, "I'm sorry, Captain."
+
+"What? I'm telling you it's our one chance!"
+
+"Captain, the only ship on Mars now is the _Diana_. Her engines are
+being overhauled."
+
+"How long before she can be spaceborne?"
+
+"Three weeks, at least. And a ship from Earth would take too long.
+Captain, I wish we could think of something. About the only thing we can
+suggest--"
+
+The reception suddenly failed again.
+
+Rajcik cursed frustratedly as he worked over the radio. Watkins gnawed
+at his mustache. Somers glanced out a porthole and looked hurriedly
+away, for the stars, their destination, were impossibly distant.
+
+They heard static again, faintly now.
+
+"I can't get much more," Rajcik said. "This damned reception.... What
+could they have been suggesting?"
+
+"Whatever it was," said Watkins, "they didn't think it would work."
+
+"What the hell does that matter?" Rajcik asked, annoyed. "It'd give us
+something to do."
+
+They heard the official's voice, a whisper across space.
+
+"Can you hear ... Suggest ..."
+
+At full amplification, the voice faded, then returned. "Can only suggest
+... most unlikely ... but try ... calculator ... try ..."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The voice was gone. And then even the static was gone.
+
+"That does it," Rajcik said. "The calculator? Did he mean the Fahrensen
+Computer in our hold?"
+
+"I see what he meant," said Captain Somers. "The Fahrensen is a very
+advanced job. No one knows the limits of its potential. He suggests we
+present our problem to it."
+
+"That's ridiculous," Watkins snorted. "This problem has no solution."
+
+"It doesn't seem to," Somers agreed. "But the big computers have solved
+other apparently impossible problems. We can't lose anything by trying."
+
+"No," said Rajcik, "as long as we don't pin any hopes on it."
+
+"That's right. We don't dare hope. Mr. Watkins, I believe this is your
+department."
+
+"Oh, what's the use?" Watkins asked. "You say don't hope--but both of
+you are hoping anyhow! You think the big electronic god is going to save
+your lives. Well, it's not!"
+
+"We have to try," Somers told him.
+
+"We don't! I wouldn't give it the satisfaction of turning us down!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They stared at him in vacant astonishment.
+
+"Now you're implying that machines think," said Rajcik.
+
+"Of course I am," Watkins said. "Because they do! No, I'm not out of my
+head. Any engineer will tell you that a complex machine has a
+personality all its own. Do you know what that personality is like?
+Cold, withdrawn, uncaring, unfeeling. A machine's only purpose is to
+frustrate desire and produce two problems for every one it solves. And
+do you know why a machine feels this way?"
+
+"You're hysterical," Somers told him.
+
+"I am not. A machine feels this way because it _knows_ it is an
+unnatural creation in nature's domain. Therefore it wishes to reach
+entropy and cease--a mechanical death wish."
+
+"I've never heard such gibberish in my life," Somers said. "Are you
+going to hook up that computer?"
+
+"Of course. I'm a human. I keep trying. I just wanted you to understand
+_fully_ that there is no hope." He went to the cargo hold.
+
+After he had gone, Rajcik grinned and shook his head. "We'd better watch
+him."
+
+"He'll be all right," Somers said.
+
+"Maybe, maybe not." Rajcik pursed his lips thoughtfully. "He's blaming
+the situation on a machine personality now, trying to absolve himself of
+guilt. And it _is_ his fault that we're in this spot. An engineer is
+responsible for all equipment."
+
+"I don't believe you can put the blame on him so dogmatically," Somers
+replied.
+
+"Sure I can," Rajcik said. "I personally don't care, though. This is as
+good a way to die as any other and better than most."
+
+Captain Somers wiped perspiration from his face. Again the notion came
+to him that the problem--the _real_ problem--was to find a way out of
+this hot, smelly, motionless little box.
+
+Rajcik said, "Death in space is an appealing idea, in certain ways.
+Imagine an entire spaceship for your tomb! And you have a variety of
+ways of actually dying. Thirst and starvation I rule out as
+unimaginative. But there are possibilities in heat, cold, implosion,
+explosion--"
+
+"This is pretty morbid," Somers said.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"I'm a pretty morbid fellow," Rajcik said carelessly. "But at least I'm
+not blaming inanimate objects, the way Watkins is. Or permitting myself
+the luxury of shock, like you." He studied Somers' face. "This is your
+first real emergency, isn't it, Captain?"
+
+"I suppose so," Somers answered vaguely.
+
+"And you're responding to it like a stunned ox," Rajcik said. "Wake up,
+Captain! If you can't live with joy, at least try to extract some
+pleasure from your dying."
+
+"Shut up," Somers said, with no heat. "Why don't you read a book or
+something?"
+
+"I've read all the books on board. I have nothing to distract me except
+an analysis of your character."
+
+Watkins returned to the cabin. "Well, I've activated your big electronic
+god. Would anyone care to make a burned offering in front of it?"
+
+"Have you given it the problem?"
+
+"Not yet. I decided to confer with the high priest. What shall I request
+of the demon, sir?"
+
+"Give it all the data you can," Somers said. "Fuel, oxygen, water,
+food--that sort of thing. Then tell it we want to return to Earth.
+Alive," he added.
+
+"It'll love that," Watkins said. "It'll get such pleasure out of
+rejecting our problem as unsolvable. Or better yet--insufficient data.
+In that way, it can hint that a solution is possible, but just outside
+our reach. It can keep us hoping."
+
+Somers and Rajcik followed him to the cargo hold. The computer,
+activated now, hummed softly. Lights flashed swiftly over its panels,
+blue and white and red.
+
+Watkins punched buttons and turned dials for fifteen minutes, then moved
+back.
+
+"Watch for the red light on top," he said. "That means the problem is
+rejected."
+
+"Don't say it," Rajcik warned quickly.
+
+Watkins laughed. "Superstitious little fellow, aren't you?"
+
+"But not incompetent," Rajcik said, smiling.
+
+"Can't you two quit it?" Somers demanded, and both men turned startedly
+to face him.
+
+"Behold!" Rajcik said. "The sleeper has awakened."
+
+"After a fashion," said Watkins, snickering.
+
+Somers suddenly felt that if death or rescue did not come quickly, they
+would kill each other, or drive each other crazy.
+
+"Look!" Rajcik said.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A light on the computer's panel was flashing green.
+
+"Must be a mistake," said Watkins. "Green means the problem is solvable
+within the conditions set down."
+
+"Solvable!" Rajcik said.
+
+"But it's impossible," Watkins argued. "It's fooling us, leading us
+on--"
+
+"Don't be superstitious," Rajcik mocked. "How soon do we get the
+solution?"
+
+"It's coming now." Watkins pointed to a paper tape inching out of a slot
+in the machine's face. "But there must be something wrong!"
+
+They watched as, millimeter by millimeter, the tape crept out. The
+computer hummed, its lights flashing green. Then the hum stopped. The
+green lights blazed once more and faded.
+
+"What happened?" Rajcik wanted to know.
+
+"It's finished," Watkins said.
+
+"Pick it up! Read it!"
+
+"You read it. You won't get _me_ to play its game."
+
+Rajcik laughed nervously and rubbed his hands together, but didn't move.
+Both men turned to Somers.
+
+"Captain, it's your responsibility."
+
+"Go ahead, Captain!"
+
+Somers looked with loathing at his engineer and navigator. _His_
+responsibility, everything was _his_ responsibility. Would they never
+leave him alone?
+
+He went up to the machine, pulled the tape free, read it with slow
+deliberation.
+
+"What does it say, sir?" Rajcik asked.
+
+"Is it--possible?" Watkins urged.
+
+"Oh, yes," Somers said. "It's possible." He laughed and looked around at
+the hot, smelly, low-ceilinged little room with its locked doors and
+windows.
+
+"What is it?" Rajcik shouted.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Somers said, "You figured a few thousand years to return to the Solar
+System, Rajcik? Well, the computer agrees with you. Twenty-three hundred
+years, to be precise. Therefore, it has given us a suitable longevity
+serum."
+
+"Twenty-three hundred years," Rajcik mumbled. "I suppose we hibernate or
+something of the sort."
+
+"Not at all," Somers said calmly. "As a matter of fact, this serum does
+away quite nicely with the need for sleep. We stay awake and watch each
+other."
+
+The three men looked at one another and at the sickeningly familiar room
+smelling of metal and perspiration, its sealed doors and windows that
+stared at an unchanging spectacle of stars.
+
+Watkins said, "Yes, that's the sort of thing it would do."
+
+                                                            --NED LANG
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ June 1956.
+    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
+    typographical errors have been corrected without note.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Death Wish, by Robert Sheckley
+
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