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diff --git a/29897-h/29897-h.htm b/29897-h/29897-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..135bc0d --- /dev/null +++ b/29897-h/29897-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1468 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Runaway, by William Morrison + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2,.hd1 {text-align: center;} + h1 {letter-spacing: .2em; padding-left: .2em;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 2em auto; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .rgt {text-align: right;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + .figc {margin: 1em auto; width: 600px;} + img {border: none;} + a:link,a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .figt {float: left; clear: left; margin: 15px; padding: 0; width: 149px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; min-height: 230px;} + .trn p {margin: 15px;} + .sp1 {font-size: 200%;} + .bk1 {margin: 2em auto 2em 0; width: 15em; line-height: 2;} + .hd1 {margin-bottom: 4em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Runaway, by William Morrison + +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: Runaway + +Author: William Morrison + +Illustrator: William Ashman + +Release Date: September 3, 2009 [EBook #29897] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUNAWAY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1><span class="sp1">runaway</span></h1> + +<h2>By WILLIAM MORRISON</h2> + +<div class="bk1"><p><big><b><i>Heroism is merely daring and ingenuity—at +the age of ten—experience can come later!</i></b></big></p></div> + +<p class="hd1"><b><big>Illustrated by ASHMAN</big></b></p> + +<p><i>A thin speck appeared in the +visor plate and grew with sinister +and terrifying speed. Bursts of +flame began to play around the +rocketing spaceship, the explosions +hurtling it from side to side +as it twisted and turned in a frantic +effort to escape. Rogue +Rogan, his vicious lips compressed, +his glittering evil eyes +narrowed, heart pounding, knew +that this was it.</i></p> + +<p><i>This was the day of retribution, +he had so long feared....</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"Plato!"</span></p> + +<p>Plato leaped to his +feet and slid the book +under the pillow. Then he seized +a textbook at random, and +opened it wide. His eyes fastened +themselves to the print, seizing +upon the meaningless words as +if they would save him from a +retribution that Rogue Rogan +had never had to fear.</p> + +<p>The dorm master frowned +from the doorway. "Plato, didn't +you hear the Assembly bell?"</p> + +<p>"Assembly?" Plato's eyes +looked up in mild astonishment. +"No, sir, I didn't hear any bell. +I was so absorbed in my studying, +sir—" He shut the book and +placed it back with the others. +"I'm sorry, sir. I'm willing to accept +my punishment."</p> + +<p>The dorm master studied the +little martyr's expression. "You'd +better be, Plato. Now live up to +your name and show some intelligence. +Run along to Assembly."</p> + +<p>Plato ran, but he also winced. +How he had suffered from that +miserable name of his! Even before +he had known that the original +Plato had been a philosopher, +even before he had been capable +of understanding what a philosopher +was, he had been able to see +the amused expression in the eyes +of those who heard his name, and +had hated them for it. "Show a +little intelligence, Plato." Why +couldn't they have given him a +name like the others? There were +so many ordinary, commonplace, +<i>manly</i> names from which they +might have chosen. Jim, Jack, +George, Tom, Bill—anything +would have been better than +Plato. And infinitely better than +what he was sometimes called by +his equals—"Plato, the dopy +philosopher."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">He</span> slipped into his seat in the +Assembly quietly, so as not +to interrupt the droning of the +principal. So they thought his +name was funny, did they? Let +them laugh at him. He was only +ten now, but some day he would +really act like a man. Some day +it would be he himself, and not a +fictional hero like Comets Carter, +who would be adventuring on +strange planets of unknown suns, +tracking down the Rogans and +the other criminals who sought +refuge in the wide reaches of +galactic space.</p> + +<p>Some day—and then the +thought burst on him like a nova +exploding in his brain.</p> + +<p><i>Why not now?</i></p> + +<p>Why not indeed? He was +smart; he could take care of himself. +Even his masters admitted +that, when they weren't carping +at him for his daydreaming. Take +that model of a spaceship they +had brought to school one day, +with a retired astrogator to explain +to the pupils how the thing +was run, and how it avoided stray +meteors. He had sat down at the +controls, and even the astrogator +had been surprised at how confidently +he took over the role of +pilot, how he got the idea at once.</p> + +<p>He could do as well in real +life. He was sure of it. Give him +a really worthwhile problem to +work on, instead of these silly +questions about square roots and +who discovered the third satellite +of Mars, and he'd show them.</p> + +<div class="figc"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="600" height="441" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Thus," declaimed the principal, +"you will be prepared to take +up your duties—"</p> + +<p>"Norberts to you," thought +Plato. "I'm going to run away."</p> + +<p>Where to? There were so many +stars to go to, such a bewildering +number of planets and asteroids.</p> + +<p>Plato sat lost in thought. A +planet whose habitation required +a spacesuit was out of the question. +Spacesuits his size were hard +to get. The sensible thing would +be to choose a place where the +physical conditions, from gravity +to atmospheric pressure and composition +would tend to resemble +those here on Venus or on Earth. +But full of the most thrilling +danger.</p> + +<p>A boy's voice said, "Get up, +you dopy philosopher. It's all +over."</p> + +<p>He raised his head and realized +that the principal had stopped +droning from the platform, that +all the pupils were standing up to +leave. He stood up and marched +out.</p> + +<p>When the signal for lights out +came that night, Plato lay motionless +for a time in the dark, +his mind racing far too rapidly +for him to think of sleep. He had +plans to make. And after a time, +when the dormitory quieted +down, he went to the well of +knowledge for inspiration. He +slipped on his pair of goggles and +threw the special switch he himself +had made. The infra-red +light flared on, invisible to any +one in the room but himself, and +he drew his book from its hiding +place and resumed his reading.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>The ship curvetted in space +like a prancing steed. Panic-stricken +by the four-dimensional +space-warp in which he was +trapped, Rogue Rogan stormed +at his terrified followers. "By all +the devils of the Coal Sack," he +shouted, "the man doesn't live +who can take me alive! You'll +fight and die like men, you hen-hearted +cowards...."</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p>But they didn't die like men. +In fact, they didn't die at all, and +Plato permitted a slight sneer to +play across his youthful features. +Though he considered himself a +passionate admirer of Comets +Carter, even he felt dissatisfied +with the story. When they were +trapped, they were never <i>really</i> +trapped. Comets Carter, sterling +hero that he usually was, always +showed weakness of intellect at +the last moment, giving his +deadly enemy an incredibly simple +way out, one that Comets +had, in his own incredibly simple +way, overlooked.</p> + +<p>Plato would never be guilty of +such stupidity. He himself—and +now <i>he</i> was Comets Carter, a +quicker-thinker, smarter Carter, +dealing out to Rogue Rogan a +retribution many eons overdue. +He was whistling through space +at ten light-speeds. He was compressing +light-centuries into a +single second. He was—</p> + +<p>He had just time to slip the +goggles from his face before his +eyes closed in sleep.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">During</span> the day, he continued +to make his plans. There +was a spaceport a hundred and +forty miles away. At night, if the +students poked their heads out of +the window, they could see the +distant ships as points of flame +racing away into the darkness, +like shooting stars in reverse. He +would steal out of his room in +the night, take a glider-train to +the spaceport, and stow away. It +would be as simple as that.</p> + +<p>Of course, he needed money. +He might travel at half fare, but +even that would be expensive. +And then there was the matter +of food. He'd have to stay hidden +until the spaceship took off and +there was no turning back, and +at the thought of crouching in +some dark hold, motionless for +hours, cramped, and <i>with an +empty stomach</i>—</p> + +<p>He wasn't going to starve himself. +Even Comets Carter couldn't +have gone without eating and got +very far in his pursuit of Rogan. +Plato would have to acquire +money for flight, fare and food.</p> + +<p>The book, of course, he couldn't +think of selling. It was only a +decicredit novel in the first place, +and somewhat worn at that. And +the other students would have +laughed at him for reading it. +But his infra-red bedside lamp +and his goggles and the space-receptor +radio he had built out of +spare parts—those should bring +him enough to travel and live on +for a few days.</p> + +<p>He made his first sale in the +free time that evening, to a young +squirt in the neighboring dormitory +who had a passion akin to +his own. He liked to listen to tales +of high adventure, of the kind +the radiocasters loved and the +teachers in the school frowned +upon. Having arrived here from +Earth only six months before, he +had difficulty adjusting to the +type of derring-do featured on +the Venus stations, and he lacked +a space-receptor that would bring +him his favorites from the next +planet. He snapped up, at the +bargain price of ten credits, the +receptor that Plato offered.</p> + +<p>There was a little difficulty +with the infra-red lamp and goggles. +The customer Plato had selected +turned out to be rather +suspicious. He demanded, "Where +did you steal them?"</p> + +<p>Plato explained patiently, "I +didn't steal them. I made them +myself."</p> + +<p>"That's a lot of hot oxo-nitrogen. +You hooked them some +place, and if they ever find out—"</p> + +<p>"Okay," said Plato, "if you +don't want them, you don't have +to take them. I can sell them to +somebody else."</p> + +<p>He allowed the young skeptic +to try the goggles on and read by +the light of the lamp. He knew +little of the psychology of salesmanship, +but with what might +be called Platonic shrewdness, he +sensed that once the prospect had +experienced the joys of using the +magic articles, he would never +give them up.</p> + +<p>The method worked. And soon +Plato was richer by fifteen credits, +instead of the ten or twelve he +had hoped for.</p> + +<p>He had a few other odds and +ends, which he sold for as much +as they would bring. After all, +once he was out in space, he +wouldn't need them any more.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">In</span> the middle of the next day, +when the bell sounded the end +of the class on Planetary Geography +and it was time to go to +the class on Animal Physiology, +Plato picked himself up and +walked out. One of the 'copter +custodians looked at him suspiciously, +but Plato didn't dignify +the man by paying him direct attention.</p> + +<p>He muttered to himself, "Always +picking on me. I don't see +why he can't send somebody else +on his errands." It was better +than the forged pass signed with +the headmaster's name.</p> + +<p>The pass itself came in handy +when he bought a flight ticket. +The ticket agent also stared at +him suspiciously, but Plato was +ready for him. He had prepared +the slip of paper beforehand, +tracing the headmaster's name +laboriously from one of the lists +of regulations attached to the +wall.</p> + +<p>To make pursuit as difficult as +possible for any one who tried to +trail him, Plato asked for a ticket +not to Space Junction, where he +was going, but to Venusberg, in +the opposite direction. Both tickets +cost about the same; the ticket +to Venusberg, in fact, cost +three decicredits more. Once on +the plane-drawn glider, he could +explain to the conductor that the +agent had made a mistake and +offer the ticket he had. Since the +company would lose nothing by +the transaction, there was no +reason why the conductor should +object.</p> + +<p>Plato was proud of this bit of +trickery, and he flattered himself +that by means of it he had entirely +thrown off pursuit. It must +be remembered that he was only +ten years old.</p> + +<p>On the glider-flight, he found +himself sitting next to a middle-aged +woman who wore glasses +and was surrounded by packages. +She beamed at him, as she did at +every one else around her, and +Plato shrank back into his seat. +If there was anything he didn't +want on this trip, it was to be +mothered.</p> + +<p>But he couldn't escape her. She +said, "My, my, you're awfully +young to be traveling alone. This +the first time?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," said Plato nervously, +afraid of the embarrassing +questions he could read on her +face.</p> + +<p>Hastily he stared out over the +side and gasped, "Gee, how small +everything is!"</p> + +<p>Imagine anyone who had traveled +vicariously through space +with Comets Carter being awed +by a flight in a plane-drawn +glider! But the ruse worked.</p> + +<p>She said, "Yes, it is frightening, +isn't it? Even worse than space +travel."</p> + +<p>"You've been in space, +ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"Bless your heart, I've been in +space more times than you could +shake a stick at. The takeoff +isn't so nice, I'll admit, but after +that you're just sailing free. +What are you going to be when +you grow up?"</p> + +<p>They had his future all planned +for him, but he knew that he +wasn't going to be any of the +things they wanted him to be.</p> + +<p>He said boldly, "A space explorer."</p> + +<p>She laughed. "You youngsters +are all alike inside, no matter how +different you seem. My boy was +the same way when he was young. +But he got over it. A space explorer, +no less!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Plato</span> didn't answer. It was +only a half hour's trip, and +the conductor was walking down +the aisle. Plato found it difficult +to take his eyes off him. He was +afraid that the man would take +a look at his ticket, say, "Wrong +plane, son," and turn him over +to the stationmaster at Space +Junction, to be shipped back.</p> + +<p>In his nervousness, Plato had +difficulty getting his ticket out of +his pocket. As he had expected, +the conductor said, "You're on +the wrong flight."</p> + +<p>The motherly woman exclaimed, +"Oh, isn't that a shame! Are +they waiting for you in Venusberg?"</p> + +<p>Plato said tearfully, "Yes, +ma'am." The tearfulness wasn't +hard to manage; he'd learned the +trick at school.</p> + +<p>"That's too bad. How are you +going to get there?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I had just +enough money to pay for this +ticket."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't the company correct +mistakes, Conductor?"</p> + +<p>"Not mistakes the passengers +make," said the conductor sourly. +"I'm sorry, boy, I'll have to take +that ticket."</p> + +<p>The woman's eyes flashed and, +as the conductor moved on, she +said, "The nasty thing. They +have no consideration at all. +Look, child." For a moment Plato +thought she was going to offer +him flight fare from Space Junction +to Venusberg, but she was +not, he discovered, as motherly +as that. "You know what you'll +do when you get off? Send a +'gram, collect, to your people in +Venusberg. They'll wire you your +fare. And you'll reach them in a +couple of hours."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am," he said, +not feeling thankful at all. So it +was all right to be sympathetic, +he thought indignantly, up to the +point where sympathy might cost +her money. Like most people, she +was free-handed only with advice.</p> + +<p>Who wanted advice?</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">At</span> Space Junction he waved +her a shy farewell, and then +turned and disappeared into the +station crowd.</p> + +<p>At the takeoff grounds, his +heart sank. As he might have expected, +the entrance to the space +tarmac was well guarded. How +was he going to become a stowaway +on a spaceship if he +couldn't even get close to it?</p> + +<p>He wandered around outside, +staring through the charged wire +fence at the crowds, the spacemen, +the ships inside. They were +gigantic shining things, those +wonderful ships, each so long that +he realized for the first time how +far away they must have been +and how rapidly they must have +traveled, for those he saw had +seemed to him like shooting stars. +They were pointed almost +straight up. Near the stern of +each ship was a vacuum-pit to +absorb the radioactive exhaust +gases.</p> + +<p>His eye caught an old tub, its +shininess dulled, its hull faintly +scarred. Just such a ship, he +thought with a thrill, as the one +on which Comets Carter had +been shanghaied on that momentous +occasion when ...</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>The old freighter swung a great +circle, its torsion jets blasting +desperately in an effort to keep +it on an even keel. This, thought +Comets Carter, was it. This was +the foul revenge that Rogue Rogan +had planned, the evil death +he had plotted with his unhuman +companions. In a moment the +pulsating radiations of electroid +rays would set off the cargo of +ghoulite, and when the interplanetary +echoes of the explosion died +away, Comets Carter would be +no more than a series of photon +packets, his body torn apart, his +very atoms converted into radiation +that was hurtling with the +speed of light to the far corners +of the universe....</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It hadn't happened that way, +of course. But if it <i>had</i> happened—well, +it might have on just +such a tub as this.</p> + +<p>A guard saw him peering +through the fence, and said, +"What are you looking at, kid?"</p> + +<p>"Those ships," said Plato, honestly +enough. And then he added, +to throw the man off the track, +"Gee, I'd be scared to go up in +one of them. No, sir, you couldn't +get me into one of them for a +million credits."</p> + +<p>The man laughed. "They're +not for the likes of you. A lot of +those ships go to other stars."</p> + +<p>"Other stars? Gosh! Does that +little one, the <i>Marie T.</i>—"</p> + +<p>"That tub? Just an interplanetary +freighter. But even that isn't +for you. Now run along and mind +your own business."</p> + +<p>Plato was happy to run along. +Unfortunately, he realized, running +along didn't help him to get +past the fence.</p> + +<p>And then he had a fear-inspiring +thought. He couldn't tell an +interplanetary ship from an interstellar. +What if he did manage, +somehow, to get in and stow +away—and then found himself +on a ship bound for no more distant +port than Earth, from which +he could easily be sent home in +disgrace?</p> + +<p>It sent a shiver through him. +Fortunately, it also stimulated his +mind. After all, there <i>were</i> such +things as newspapers, and the +school, nuisance in many ways +though it was, had taught him to +read.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">He</span> bought a paper and turned +at once to the shipping news +section. As he had hoped, every +ship was listed. He checked off +some of the names he had +glimpsed on the field, and found +happily that their destinations +were printed in the most routine +manner.</p> + +<p>There still remained the question +of how to get past the guards. +This, he suddenly realized, was +a question impossible to solve on +an empty stomach. It had been +many hours since he had eaten +lunch.</p> + +<p>There were a dozen restaurants +in the spaceport, and he selected +one carefully, studying the illuminated +menus and the prices +before daring to enter. If that +motherly old woman had been +as kind-hearted as she pretended +to be, he wouldn't have had to +worry so much about prices. As +it was, he knew that he had money +enough for only two days, and +after that—his stomach could +complain all it wanted to, it +would have to go unfed.</p> + +<p>He chose from the menu only +items that he never tasted at +school—dishes made from real +plant and animal life, with just +enough synthetics to give them +flavor. He couldn't say that he +liked what he ate, but at least it +gave him the feeling of being on +his own, of having made the +break with his tame past as complete +as possible. Earth-beef +tasted too strong; Venus seaweed +stew had a pungency that he +didn't like.</p> + +<p>He finished his plate only because +he had been taught that to +leave food over was wasteful. +And for the first time he began +to wonder what they would feed +him on the spaceship. Suppose he +got on one that wasn't scheduled +to make port for five years—and +all he received to eat was stuff +like this? The thought made him +shudder. Here was a hardship of +space travel that the books he +read had never mentioned.</p> + +<p>After eating, he slumped back +in his chair. He hadn't realized +he was so completely exhausted +until a hand shook his shoulder. +Then he awoke with a start.</p> + +<p>A waiter said, "This is no place +to sleep, youngster."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, sir. I was tired and +I didn't realize."</p> + +<p>"You been here for a long +time. Waiting for someone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Something must have +held him up."</p> + +<p>"Seems to me that I noticed +you walk in here about three +hours ago. That's a long time to +wait."</p> + +<p>"That's what I thought, sir. I +can't understand what happened."</p> + +<p>"Well, you can't hang around +here. I'll tell you what I'll do, +though. I'll turn you over to the +matron in our Lost and Found +room, and she'll look out for +you. Follow me."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">In</span> a daze, Plato followed. But +as his feet were set into motion, +so was his brain. By now, +of course, the search for him +must be well on. They must have +traced him to the station, and +perhaps, despite his clever trick +with the ticket, they had found +the flight he had taken. For all +he knew, they might be waiting +for him in the Lost and Found +room, ready to seize him the moment +he showed his face there.</p> + +<p>He hadn't gone so far to be recaptured +so easily. As they passed +an exit door, Plato darted out. He +heard the waiter's surprised +shout, but he didn't wait to reply. +In a second, he had lost +himself in the crowd.</p> + +<p>He knew now that if he was +going to get aboard an interstellar +vessel, he would have to do +so soon. What would Comets +Carter have done in Plato's place—if +Comets had been in one of +his brighter moods? And then he +had it. He saw a messenger coming +down the street, gleaming in +his uniform, and, somewhat nervously, +approached him.</p> + +<p>"May I speak to you?" asked +Plato, with school-taught politeness.</p> + +<p>"What about, bud? I'm busy."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've been wanting to get +Captain Halverson's autograph. +He's on the <i>Space Symphony</i>—"</p> + +<p>"So what?"</p> + +<p>"Well, the thing is, they won't +let me past the gate. So I thought +that if I wore a messenger's uniform—"</p> + +<p>The other boy glared at him. +"Are you off your Norbert? I +wouldn't let you wear this uniform +for a zillion credits."</p> + +<p>Plato swallowed nervously, and +said in desperation, "I don't have +a zillion credits, but I've got +eight, and I'll give them to you +if you let me wear it. Just half an +hour, that's all it'll take. It's the +last chance I'll have to ask him. +He's bound for Rigel, and he +won't be back for five years, and +you see—"</p> + +<p>His voice tapered to a thin, +tearful squeak as the messenger +looked at him.</p> + +<p>"You're offering me eight +space-lousy credits?"</p> + +<p>"It's all I have. We'll just +change clothes for a few minutes, +and that'll be all. Please, I've got +to see him. I know that if I do, +he'll give me his autograph."</p> + +<p>"Okay," said the messenger unexpectedly. +"But hurry back. I'll +be at the gate waiting for you."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">As</span> they exchanged clothes, +Plato was almost feverish +with excitement. But he knew +that if he expected to get past the +guard, he would have to control +himself. The clothes didn't fit too +well, even though the messenger +was small, and he must do nothing +that would arouse the guard's +suspicion.</p> + +<p>He said to the messenger, "Gee, +thanks. You don't know how +much this means to me." And +then, with a mental grip on himself +so tense that it hurt physically, +he approached the guard, +and said casually, "Earth 'gram +for Captain Halverson."</p> + +<p>The guard hardly looked at +him. He was past the gate!</p> + +<p>He had been tricky again. +Once out of sight of the guard, +he made not for the <i>Space Symphony</i>, +but for the <i>Long Ranger</i>, +bound for Aldebaran.</p> + +<p>"Earth 'gram for Captain +Brinjar," he muttered, doing his +best to look bored, as if delivering +'grams to ships was an old +thing to him. And then he was +aboard!</p> + +<p>It was not quite what he expected. +The smooth walls were +such as he might have found in +his own dormitory. The quarters, +he saw, were cramped, although +for someone his size they were at +least adequate. And the passageways, +although brilliantly lighted, +were mere narrow tunnels.</p> + +<p>From the main passageway, +other tunnels branched off bewilderingly, +and Plato hesitated +until he realized that his very +confusion gave him an excuse for +poking his nose into all sorts of +places. He followed one of the +tunnels until he came to a door: +<span class="smcap">ENGINE ROOM—KEEP OUT</span>.</p> + +<p>He entered. A mechanic looked +up.</p> + +<p>"Earth 'gram for Captain Brinjar. +They said he was around +here."</p> + +<p>"Not here," replied the mechanic. +"Try the cargo hold."</p> + +<p>Plato backed out and set off +down the corridor again, noting +the direction arrows and signs. +<span class="smcap">TO MAIN LOUNGE</span>—no good. <span class="smcap">TO +CAPTAIN'S CABIN</span>—worse. He +didn't want to find the captain +and lose his excuse for being +there.</p> + +<p>And then he saw <span class="smcap">TO FOOD STORAGE</span> +and knew that he need look +no further. This was a place both +to hide and to eat, until the ship +took off, and the crew found him, +and had to accept him as one of +themselves.</p> + +<p>He opened the door to the food +storage hold with an elaborate +caution that turned out to be unnecessary. +There was no one inside. +He settled down between +two packing cases and let out his +breath. He had made it. He had +stowed away successfully, and +in a few hours he would be out in +space, traveling between the +stars, fighting, adventuring—</p> + +<p>A yawn almost wiped the +smile off his face.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">He</span> awoke to disaster. The captain +and Plato's dorm master +were standing there, staring down +at him, and the dorm master was +saying, "All right, Plato, you've +had your adventure, and now I'm +afraid you'll have to pay for it. +It's time to go home."</p> + +<p>Plato couldn't move. It was +impossible, after he had been so +clever, so ingenious, and had +thrown them off the trail in so +many ways, for them to have +found him!</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't have bought a +ticket to the wrong station," said +the dorm master, somewhat +amusedly. "When the conductor +turned it in, the only one of its +kind on his flight, it naturally attracted +attention. We hadn't even +suspected you had taken a glider-train +until the flight people came +to us."</p> + +<p>Now he would never adventure +on strange planets of unknown +suns. He would never course +through space like Comets Carter. +He would never have the adventures +which alone made life +seem worth living.</p> + +<p>Unable to control himself, he +burst into tears. It was a completely +unmanly thing to do, but +he couldn't help himself. The +tears flowed down over his +cheeks, washing away all his shattered +illusions. He would never +dream such dreams again. From +now on, it would be useless. They +would be watching him carefully +to make sure that he didn't leave +the planet.</p> + +<p>He heard the captain say in +astonishment, "I didn't know +these young ones could cry like +that."</p> + +<p>"Of course they cry," replied +the dorm master. "They eat, +sleep, cry—almost like you and +me, Captain. And worst of all, +they even have their dreams. +That's why I sometimes wonder, +Captain, if it isn't a mistake to +send them to school."</p> + +<p>"They have to learn."</p> + +<p>"Granted," agreed the dorm +master somberly. "But not to +dream of being human when +they're only androids."</p> + +<p class="rgt"><b>—WILLIAM MORRISON</b></p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/002-2.jpg"><img src="images/002-1.jpg" width="149" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><big><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></big></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>Galaxy Science Fiction</i> November 1952. +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.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Runaway, by William Morrison + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUNAWAY *** + +***** This file should be named 29897-h.htm or 29897-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/8/9/29897/ + +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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