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diff --git a/29876-8.txt b/29876-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eae4f16 --- /dev/null +++ b/29876-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,964 @@ +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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH WISH *** + +***** This file should be named 29876-8.txt or 29876-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/8/7/29876/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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