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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31948-h.zip b/31948-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ebbfd3 --- /dev/null +++ b/31948-h.zip diff --git a/31948-h/31948-h.htm b/31948-h/31948-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0110817 --- /dev/null +++ b/31948-h/31948-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1241 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<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 Thompson's Cat, by Robert Moore Williams. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Thompson's Cat, by Robert Moore Williams + +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: Thompson's Cat + +Author: Robert Moore Williams + +Release Date: April 11, 2010 [EBook #31948] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THOMPSON'S CAT *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<h1>THOMPSON'S CAT</h1> + +<h2>By ROBERT MOORE WILLIAMS</h2> + +<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories September +1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + + +<div class="sidenote"><i>The weird, invisible insect depopulated an entire planet. +Now it was felling Thompson's crew as his ship hurtled toward the +sun ... certain death for all, including the disease carrier. Forgotten +in the panic was Buster, Thompson's wise cat.</i></div> + + +<p>"It's a dead world," Thompson spoke. There was awe in his voice, and in +spite of his sure knowledge that nothing could happen to him or to his +crew here on this world, there was also somewhere inside of him the +trace of a beginning fear.</p> + +<p>Standing beside him on the rooftop of the building, Kurkil spoke in a +whisper, asking a question that had been better unasked. "What killed +it?"</p> + +<p>Thompson stirred fretfully. He hadn't wanted to hear this question, he +didn't want to hear it now. His gaze went automatically to the trim +lines of the space cruiser resting quietly in the square below the +building. His spirits lifted at the sight. That was his ship, he was in +charge of this far-flung exploring expedition thrown out from Sol +Cluster to the fringes of the universe, thrown out by Earth-sired races +beginning their long exploration of the mysteries of space and of the +worlds of space. There was pride in the sight of the ship and pride in +the thought of belonging to this space-ranging race. Then his gaze went +over the deserted city radiating in all directions from them and he was +aware again of the touch of fear.</p> + +<p>Resolutely he turned the feeling out of his mind, began seeking an +answer to Kurkil's question.</p> + +<p>This place had been a city once. If you counted buildings and streets, +tall structures where people might work quietly and effectively, broad +avenues leading out to trim homes where they might rest in peace after +their labors of the day, if you counted these things as being important, +it was still a city. But if you thought that the important element in +the make-up of a city was its inhabitants then this place no longer +deserved the name.</p> + +<p>It had no inhabitants.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what killed it," Thompson said. Before landing they had +circled this world. From the air they had seen more than a dozen cities +such as this one. All of them dead, all of them deserted, all of them +with streets overgrown by shrubbery, the pavements buckling from the +simple pressure of roots pushing upward, the buildings falling away into +ruin for the same reason. But they had seen no inhabitants. They had +seen the roads the inhabitants had built to connect their cities, +deserted now. They had seen the fields where these people had once +worked, fields that now were turning back into forests. They had seen no +evidence of landing fields for air craft or space ships. The race that +had built the cities had not yet learned the secret of wings.</p> + +<p>From the roof of the building where they stood, the only living +creatures to be seen were visible through the plastic viewport of the +ship below them—Grant, the communication specialist, and Buster, the +ship's cat.</p> + +<p>Grant had been left to guard the vessel. Buster had been required to +remain within the ship, obviously against his will. He had wanted to +come with Thompson. A trace of a grin came to Thompson's face at the +sight of the cat. He and Buster were firm mutual friends.</p> + +<p>"I don't like this place," Kurkil spoke suddenly. "We shouldn't have +landed here."</p> + +<p>Kurkil paused, then his voice came again, stronger now, and with +overtones of fear in it. "There's death here." He slapped at his arm, +stared around him.</p> + +<p>"What happened?"</p> + +<p>"Something bit me." He showed the back of his hand. A tiny puncture was +visible.</p> + +<p>"Some insect," Thompson said. The matter of an insect bite was of no +concern. Kurkil, and every other member of this expedition, were +disease-proof. Back in Sol Cluster vaccines and immunizing agents had +been developed against every known or conceivable form of germ or virus. +Each member of the crew had been carefully immunized. In addition, they +had been proofed against stress, against mounting neural pressure +resulting from facing real or imaginary danger.</p> + +<p>Barring space collision or an accident on a world they were exploring, +nothing could happen to them.</p> + +<p>"We checked the air, took soil and vegetation samples, before we +landed," Thompson said. "There is nothing here that is harmful to a +human." There was comfort in the thought.</p> + +<p>Kurkil brightened perceptibly. "But, what happened to the race that +built this city?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Thompson answered. A tinge of gruffness crept into his +voice as he forced out of his mind the memories of what they had seen in +this building they had entered and had climbed. This had once been an +office building, a place where the unknown people who had worked here +had handled their business transactions and had kept their records. They +had seen no bookkeeping machines, none of the elaborate mechanical +devices used in Sol Cluster to record the pulse of commerce. This race +had not progressed that far. But they had left behind them books written +in an unintelligible script, orders for merchandise still neatly +pigeonholed, all in good order with no sign of disturbance.</p> + +<p>The workers might have left these offices yesterday, except for the +carpets of dust that covered everything.</p> + +<p>"There isn't even any animal life left," Kurkil spoke.</p> + +<p>"I know."</p> + +<p>"But what happened? A race that has progressed to the city-building +stage doesn't just get wiped out without leaving some indication of what +happened to them."</p> + +<p>"Apparently they did just that."</p> + +<p>"But it's not possible."</p> + +<p>"It happened."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"There's Neff," Thompson spoke. Far down the avenue below them, three +figures had appeared, Neff, Fortune, and Ross. Neff tall and slender, +Fortune round like a ball, and Ross built square like a block of +concrete. Neff saw them on top of the building and beckoned to them. +There was urgency in the gesture.</p> + +<p>"They've found something," Thompson said. With Kurkil following him he +went hastily out of the building.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Come and see," Neff answered. Neff's face was gray. Fortune and Ross +were silent.</p> + +<p>The building in front of which they were standing had been a house once. +The architecture resembled nothing they had ever seen on Earth but the +purpose of the structure was obvious. Here somebody had lived. Thompson +tried to imagine people living here, the husband coming home in the +evening to the dinner prepared by the wife, kids running to meet him. +His imagination failed.</p> + +<p>"Back here," Neff said.</p> + +<p>They went around what had been a house into what had been a garden of +some kind, a quiet nook where a family might sprawl in peace. "There," +Neff said pointing.</p> + +<p>The three skeletons were huddled together in an alcove in front of what +had once been a shrine. They lay facing the shrine as if they had died +praying. Above them in a niche in a wall was—</p> + +<p>"An idol," Kurkil whispered.</p> + +<p>"They died praying to their god," Thompson said. He was not aware that +he had spoken. Three skeletons....</p> + +<p>The bones indicated a creature very similar to the human in structure. A +large, a middle-sized, and a small skeleton.</p> + +<p>"We think the small one is that of a child," Ross spoke. "We think this +was a family."</p> + +<p>"I see," Thompson said. "Did you find other skeletons?"</p> + +<p>"Many others. We found them almost everywhere but usually tucked away in +corners, as if the people had tried to hide from something." His voice +went suddenly into uneasy silence.</p> + +<p>"Any indication as to the cause of death?"</p> + +<p>"None. It apparently came on quite suddenly. We judge that the +inhabitants had some warning. At least we do not seem to find enough +skeletons for a city of this size, so we estimate that part of the +population fled, or tried to."</p> + +<p>"I see," Thompson repeated tonelessly. He caught a vague impression that +something had passed before his eyes, like a darting flicker of light, +and he caught, momentarily, a fast rustle in the air, as of souls +passing. His mind was on the flight of this race, the mass hegira they +had attempted in an effort to escape from some menace. What menace? +"What do you think caused it?"</p> + +<p>Ross shrugged, a gesture eloquent with a lack of knowledge and of +understanding. "War—"</p> + +<p>"No wars were fought on this planet," Neff spoke quickly. "These cities +show no evidence of conflict."</p> + +<p>"Um," Thompson said. The four men were looking uneasily at him. They +were waiting for him to make up his mind, to decide on a course of +action.</p> + +<p>Thompson did not like his own thinking. Something—the blood-brother of +death—had been here on this planet, that much was certain. The evidence +was everywhere.</p> + +<p>"We will return to the ship," Thompson said.</p> + +<p>Grant saw them coming, had the lock open for them. His worried face +looked out at them. "What gives here?"</p> + +<p>"We don't know," Thompson answered. The cat, Buster, pushed forward +between Grant's legs, took a long leap at Thompson's chest, made a +twenty-claw safe landing there. "Hi, old fellow, were you worried about +me?"</p> + +<p>They passed through the lock. "Take her up," Thompson said. "We need a +little time to think about this enigma. Maybe we can think better when +we're not so close to it."</p> + +<p>At his words, relief showed on the faces of the men. "Maybe sometime +soon we'll be heading for home?" Kurkil spoke, grinning hopefully.</p> + +<p>"You can be certain of that," Thompson said.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The ship lifted, hung miles high in the air above the silent planet. The +group considered the problem.</p> + +<p>"I vote to make a complete investigation," Grant said. He was full of +eager enthusiasm. "There was a race here. Something happened to it. +We've got to find out what happened because—" He got no further. Slowly +the enthusiasm went from his face. "No, that's not possible," he ended.</p> + +<p>"There's no danger of the virus that destroyed this race crossing space +to Sol Cluster," Kurkil spoke. "The distance is too great."</p> + +<p>"The distance wasn't too great for us to cross it," Fortune spoke.</p> + +<p>"Please," Thompson interrupted. "We can't use logic on this situation +until we have adequate data. The only data we have—" His voice trailed +off into silence as his memory presented him with a facsimile of that +data—silent, deserted cities, a world going back to vegetation, three +skeletons in front of a shrine.</p> + +<p>Abruptly he reached a decision. It was impulsive. "Our tour of +exploration is near an end anyhow. We're leaving. We're heading back to +Sol Cluster. We'll mark this planet on the star maps for further +exploration."</p> + +<p>The face of every man present brightened as he made the announcement. +Sol Cluster! Home! The green world of Earth across the depths of space. +In even the thought there was almost enough magic to wipe out the fear +of what they'd seen back there on the deserted planet.</p> + +<p>Less than an hour later, the drone of the drivers picked up as the ship, +already set on course, began to accelerate in preparation for the jump +into hyper-flight. Thompson was in his cabin making a final check of the +machine-provided flight data. Buster was in his lap half-asleep. +Suddenly the cat jumped from his lap and seemed to pounce on some +elusive prey in the room. The cat caught what it was seeking, its jaws +crunched, it swallowed.</p> + +<p>Thompson stared at the cat from disbelieving eyes. "Buster, are you +dreaming? Did you dream there was a mouse in here?"</p> + +<p>The cat meowed, came toward him, jumped again into his lap and went back +to sleep. Thompson returned to his figures. They were correct.</p> + +<p>Over the ship's communication system came the soft throb of a gong. The +warning that the jump was coming. In his lap, Buster awakened, instantly +sank twenty claws into Thompson's clothing. Thompson reached out and +took a firm grip on the hand holds on his desk, began to breathe deeply. +The gong sounded again. Final warning that the ship was going into +hyper-flight. Thompson took as deep a breath as possible, held it.</p> + +<p>The gong went into silence. The ship throbbed. The jump was in progress. +Thompson had the dazed impression that every atom in his body tried to +turn over at once. For a moment, there was a feeling of intense strain. +Then the feeling was gone as the ship and its contents passed into +hyper-flight. Thompson began to breathe again. In his lap, Buster +relaxed his claw holds, began to purr. Buster was an old hand at taking +these jumps.</p> + +<p>"EEEEEEyooow!"</p> + +<p>The eerie scream that came echoing through the ship seemed to lift up +every single strand of hair on Thompson's head. Thompson ran out of the +cabin. The scream came again, from the lounge. Thompson entered the +lounge just in time to see Kurkil standing in the middle of the room, +rip the last remnant of clothing from his body. Revealed under the +lights, his skin was turning a vivid green.</p> + +<p>Fortune was trying to approach him. Kurkil was warning the man off.</p> + +<p>"Stay away, stay away. Don't touch me. You'll get it."</p> + +<p>In the split second that was needed for Thompson to take in the +situation, the green color flowing over Kurkil's body deepened in +intensity.</p> + +<p>As the color deepened, the screams bubbling on his lips began to die +away. He fell slowly, like a man who is coming unhinged one joint at a +time.</p> + +<p>He was dead before he hit the floor. Dead so completely that not even a +convulsive tremor passed through his body.</p> + +<p>A frozen silence held the lounge. For this was a dream, a nightmare, +wild, distorted imagery.</p> + +<p>Fortune's hand waved vaguely in the direction of Sol Cluster. "It looks +as if we're not as bug and stress proof as they said we were."</p> + +<p>"What happened?"</p> + +<p>"He was sitting there in the chair and I thought he was asleep. Then he +was screaming and tearing his clothes off." Ross spread his hands. "I +tried to help—"</p> + +<p>"I know," Thompson said. He was trying to decide what to do. This ship +possessed no facilities for handling the dead. Such a contingency had +been thought too remote for consideration. Well, there was the ejection +port. "Get sheets," Thompson said. With Fortune and Ross helping, he set +about doing what had to be done.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Later, in the lounge, they met to decide what had to be done. Neff, +leaving the drivers on automatic control, came up from the engine room. +Grant came forward from the control room. If any danger presented +itself, warning bells would call them back to their posts.</p> + +<p>They were a silent and an uneasy group. Only Buster remained unaffected.</p> + +<p>"There seems no doubt that we brought the infection back on board ship +with us," Thompson said.</p> + +<p>He had stated the obvious. It got the answer it deserved. Silence.</p> + +<p>"We also must consider the possibility that another of us, possibly all +of us, are infected."</p> + +<p>No man stirred, no man spoke. Apparently they hoped they had not heard +correctly the words that had been spoken. In Thompson's lap Buster +grumbled as if he had understood and did not like what had been said.</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do?"</p> + +<p>"How can we find out what's causing this disease?"</p> + +<p>Two voices came. Then came Fortune's voice. "And even if we find out, +what can we do about it? <i>They</i> couldn't do anything about it."</p> + +<p>"The fact that the race back there couldn't stop the disease, doesn't +mean we can't stop it. We're a different race with a different +metabolism and a different body structure—"</p> + +<p>"Kurkil had the same metabolism and the same body structure," Ross said.</p> + +<p>"We will do what we can," Thompson spoke flatly. In spite of the fact +that these men were supposed to be nerve proof, there was panic in the +air. He could sense it, knew that it had to be stopped before it got +started. Inwardly he cursed the fact that there was no doctor aboard, +but he knew only too well the line of reasoning that had led to the +omission of a physician.</p> + +<p>"We have a medical library," Ross said, tentatively.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Fortune spoke. "And it tells you exactly how to treat every +conceivable form of accident but it doesn't say a single damned word +about infections, and if it did we don't have any medicine to treat +them.</p> + +<p>Again silence fell. In Thompson's lap, Buster squirmed, dropped to the +floor. Tail extended, body low, he moved across the plastic floor as if +he were stalking something that lay beyond the open door. "We'll +fumigate anyhow," Thompson said. "We'll scour the ship."</p> + +<p>There was some relief in action. The clothing that had been worn by the +landing party went out through the ejection lock. Inside the ship, the +floors, walls, and ceilings were scoured by sweating men who worked +feverishly. Fumigants were spread in every room.</p> + +<p>With the spreading of the fumigants, spirits began to rise, but even +then the signs of stress were still all too obvious. No one knew the +incubation period of the virus. Hours only had been needed to bring +Kurkil to his death. But days might pass before the virus developed in +its next victim.</p> + +<p>Months or even years might pass before they were absolutely sure they +were free from any chance of infection.</p> + +<p>By the time the ship reached Sol Cluster, and the automatic controls +stopped its hyper-flight, they might all be dead.</p> + +<p>If that happened, the ship's controls would automatically stop its +flight. It would be picked up by the far-ranging screens of the space +patrol, a ship would be sent out to board it and bring it in.</p> + +<p>At the thought of what would happen then, Thompson went hastily forward +to the control room. Grant, thin-lipped and nervous, was on duty there. +Thompson hastily began plotting a new course. Grant watched over his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Make this change," Thompson said.</p> + +<p>"But, Captain—" Grant protested. The man's face had gone utterly white +as he realized the implications of this new course. "No. We can't do +that. It'll mean—"</p> + +<p>"I know what it will mean. And I'm in my right mind, I hope. This course +is a precaution, just in case nobody is left alive by the time we reach +Sol Cluster."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Make the change," Thompson ordered bluntly.</p> + +<p>Reluctantly Grant fed the new course into the computers. A throb went +through the vessel as the ship shifted in response.</p> + +<p>"We'll come out of hyper-flight in less than three hours," Grant spoke. +"Heaven help us if this course is not changed before that time."</p> + +<p>"If this course is not changed before that time, Heaven alone can help +us. From now on, you're not to leave this control room for an instant."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>With Buster following behind him, Thompson left the control room.</p> + +<p>"Yoooow!" The scream coming from the lounge this time was in a different +key and had a different sound. But the meaning was the same as it had +been when Kurkil had screamed. Thompson went forward on the run.</p> + +<p>The victim was Ross. Like Kurkil, he was tearing his clothes off. Like +Kurkil, he was turning green. When he went down, he did not rise again.</p> + +<p>As he stood staring down at Ross, Thompson had the vague impression of +whirring wings passing near him. Whispering wings, as if a soul were +taking flight.</p> + +<p>From the engine room Neff appeared. "I heard somebody scream over the +intercom. Oh, I see." His face worked, his jaws moved as if he was +trying to speak. But no sound came.</p> + +<p>Fortune emerged from his quarters to look down at Ross. "Our fumigating +didn't work, huh?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe he caught the bug on the planet," Thompson said. He tried to put +conviction into his voice. The effort failed. "Get sheets," he said.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There was no prayer. There was no burial ceremony. The body went through +the ejection port and disappeared in the vast depths of space.</p> + +<p>Thompson returned to his cabin, slumped down at his desk, Fortune and +Neff following.</p> + +<p>Buster meowed. "Okay, pal." The cat jumped into Thompson's lap.</p> + +<p>"I guess there's not much point in trying to kid ourselves any longer," +Fortune said. His voice was dull and flat, without tone and without +spirit. A muscle in Neff's cheek was twitching.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you," Thompson said.</p> + +<p>"Hell, you understand me well enough. The facts are obvious. We've +either all got the virus, or it's here in the ship, and we will get it. +All we're doing is waiting to see who goes next. What I want to know +is—Who'll shove the last man through the ejection port?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Thompson answered.</p> + +<p>"Isn't there anything else we can do?" The tic in Neff's cheek was +becoming more pronounced.</p> + +<p>"If there is, I don't know—What the hell, Buster?" The cat which had +been lying in his lap, suddenly leaped to the floor. Tail extended, +crouched, eyes alert, the cat seemed to be trying to follow the flight +of something through the air above him.</p> + +<p>Very vaguely, very dimly, Thompson caught the rustle of wings.</p> + +<p>The actions of the cat, and the sound, sent a wave of utter cold washing +over his body.</p> + +<p>Before he could move, the cat leaped upward, caught something in +snapping jaws.</p> + +<p>In the same split second Thompson moved. Before Buster had had time to +swallow, Thompson had caught him behind the jaws, forcing them shut. On +his desk was a bell jar. He lifted it, thrust the cat's head under it, +forced his thumb and forefinger against the jaws of the cat.</p> + +<p>The outraged Buster disgorged something. Thompson jerked the cat's head +from under the jar, slammed down the rim. The angry cat snarled at him. +Neff and Fortune were staring at him from eyes that indicated they +thought he had lost his senses. Thompson paid them no attention. He was +too busy watching something inside the bell jar even to notice that they +existed.</p> + +<p>He could not see the creature under the jar.</p> + +<p>He knew it could fly but he did not know its shape or size. He could +hear it hitting the falls of the jar. And each time it hit the wall, a +tiny greenish smudge appeared at the point of impact.</p> + +<p>"What—what the hell have you got there?" Neff whispered.</p> + +<p>"I don't know for sure. But I think I've got the carrier of the virus."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Watch."</p> + +<p>"I can't see anything."</p> + +<p>"Nor can I yet, but I can hear it and I can see the places where it hits +the wall of the jar. There's something under the jar. Something that +Buster has been seeing all along."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>Thompson pointed at the jar. "One or several of those things came into +the ship when the lock was open. We couldn't see them, didn't know they +existed. But Buster saw them. He caught one of them in this cabin soon +after we took off. I thought he was playing a game to amuse himself, +or—" He broke off. From the back of his mind came a fragment of +history, now in the forgotten Dark Ages of Earth, whole populations had +been ravaged and destroyed by a fever that was carried by some kind of +an insect. Did they have some kind of an insect under his jar?</p> + +<p>Holding his breath, Thompson watched.</p> + +<p>The pounding against the walls of the jar was growing weaker. Then it +stopped. On the desk top, a smudge appeared. Wings quavered there, wings +that shifted through a range of rainbow colors as they became visible.</p> + +<p>As the flutter of the wings stopped the whole creature became visible. +Made up of some kind of exceedingly thin tissue that was hardly visible, +it was about as big as a humming bird.</p> + +<p>Silence held the room. Thompson was aware of his eyes coming to focus on +the long pointed bill of the creature.</p> + +<p>"Alive it was not visible at all," Fortune whispered. "Dead, you can see +it." His voice lifted, picked up overtones of terror. "Say an hour or so +ago Ross was complaining that something had bit him."</p> + +<p>Like the last remnant of a picture puzzle fitting together, something +clicked in Thompson's mind. "And Kurkil. While we were out of the ship +something bit him."</p> + +<p>Silence again. His eyes went from Neff to Fortune. "Did—"</p> + +<p>They shook their heads.</p> + +<p>"Then that ties up the package," Thompson whispered. "This creature +carried the virus, or poison, or whatever it was. Without being bitten, +the virus cannot spread. We've found the cause. We've got it licked."</p> + +<p>He was aware of sweat appearing on his face, the sweat of pure relief. +He sank back into his chair. Buster, recovering from his indignity at +the outrage he had suffered, jumped to the top of the desk, settled down +with his nose against the glass, watching the dead creature inside the +bell jar.</p> + +<p>"He caught one of those things right in this cabin," Thompson whispered. +A shudder passed over him and was gone. He had been so close to death, +and had not known it. Buster had saved him.</p> + +<p>Instead of seeking protection from him, the cat, in a sense, had been +protecting him. His gaze centered fondly on the cat.</p> + +<p>"What if there are more of those things in the ship?" Fortune spoke.</p> + +<p>"We can solve that one," Thompson spoke. "Space suits. And, now that we +know what we're looking for, we can clean out the ship. If we don't, +Buster will do it for us."</p> + +<p>"Space suits!" As if he had heard no more than those two words, Fortune +ran from the room. He returned with three suits. They hastily donned +them.</p> + +<p>"No damned bug can bite through one of these things," Neff said +exultantly. "Say, what about Grant? Hadn't we better take him a suit +too?"</p> + +<p>"I should say so. Fortune...." But Fortune was already leaving the room +on his errand. Thompson snapped open the intercom system. "Grant?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"We've found the cause and we've got the disease licked."</p> + +<p>Grant's voice a shout coming back from the control room. "Thank God. +I've been sitting here watching Sol grow bigger and bigger...." His +voice suddenly choked, went into silence, then came again, asking a +question. "Is it all right to change course now?"</p> + +<p>"Definitely it's all right," Thompson answered. "In fact, it's an +order."</p> + +<p>An instant later, the ship groaned as the direction of flight was +shifted. Thompson took a deep breath, was aware that Neff was staring at +him. "What was that he said about watching Sol grow bigger and bigger? +Say, what course were we on?"</p> + +<p>"Collision course with the sun," Thompson answered.</p> + +<p>"What?" Neff gasped. "Do you mean to say that you were going to throw +the ship into the sun?"</p> + +<p>Slowly Thompson nodded. "I didn't know whether we would be alive or not +but I didn't want this ship to enter Sol Cluster and turn loose there +the virus that had already depopulated a planet."</p> + +<p>He spoke slowly, with the sure knowledge of a desperate danger safely +passed. Neff stared at him from round and frightened eyes.</p> + +<p>On the desk top Buster gave up his vigil, meowed, and jumped into the +captain's lap. With the thick gloves of his space suit clad hands, +Thompson fondly stroked him.</p> + +<p>Buster arched his back in grateful appreciation and began to purr.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Thompson's Cat, by Robert Moore Williams + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THOMPSON'S CAT *** + +***** This file should be named 31948-h.htm or 31948-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/9/4/31948/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Thompson's Cat + +Author: Robert Moore Williams + +Release Date: April 11, 2010 [EBook #31948] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THOMPSON'S CAT *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THOMPSON'S CAT + + By ROBERT MOORE WILLIAMS + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories September +1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Sidenote: _The weird, invisible insect depopulated an entire planet. +Now it was felling Thompson's crew as his ship hurtled toward the +sun ... certain death for all, including the disease carrier. Forgotten +in the panic was Buster, Thompson's wise cat._] + + +"It's a dead world," Thompson spoke. There was awe in his voice, and in +spite of his sure knowledge that nothing could happen to him or to his +crew here on this world, there was also somewhere inside of him the +trace of a beginning fear. + +Standing beside him on the rooftop of the building, Kurkil spoke in a +whisper, asking a question that had been better unasked. "What killed +it?" + +Thompson stirred fretfully. He hadn't wanted to hear this question, he +didn't want to hear it now. His gaze went automatically to the trim +lines of the space cruiser resting quietly in the square below the +building. His spirits lifted at the sight. That was his ship, he was in +charge of this far-flung exploring expedition thrown out from Sol +Cluster to the fringes of the universe, thrown out by Earth-sired races +beginning their long exploration of the mysteries of space and of the +worlds of space. There was pride in the sight of the ship and pride in +the thought of belonging to this space-ranging race. Then his gaze went +over the deserted city radiating in all directions from them and he was +aware again of the touch of fear. + +Resolutely he turned the feeling out of his mind, began seeking an +answer to Kurkil's question. + +This place had been a city once. If you counted buildings and streets, +tall structures where people might work quietly and effectively, broad +avenues leading out to trim homes where they might rest in peace after +their labors of the day, if you counted these things as being important, +it was still a city. But if you thought that the important element in +the make-up of a city was its inhabitants then this place no longer +deserved the name. + +It had no inhabitants. + +"I don't know what killed it," Thompson said. Before landing they had +circled this world. From the air they had seen more than a dozen cities +such as this one. All of them dead, all of them deserted, all of them +with streets overgrown by shrubbery, the pavements buckling from the +simple pressure of roots pushing upward, the buildings falling away into +ruin for the same reason. But they had seen no inhabitants. They had +seen the roads the inhabitants had built to connect their cities, +deserted now. They had seen the fields where these people had once +worked, fields that now were turning back into forests. They had seen no +evidence of landing fields for air craft or space ships. The race that +had built the cities had not yet learned the secret of wings. + +From the roof of the building where they stood, the only living +creatures to be seen were visible through the plastic viewport of the +ship below them--Grant, the communication specialist, and Buster, the +ship's cat. + +Grant had been left to guard the vessel. Buster had been required to +remain within the ship, obviously against his will. He had wanted to +come with Thompson. A trace of a grin came to Thompson's face at the +sight of the cat. He and Buster were firm mutual friends. + +"I don't like this place," Kurkil spoke suddenly. "We shouldn't have +landed here." + +Kurkil paused, then his voice came again, stronger now, and with +overtones of fear in it. "There's death here." He slapped at his arm, +stared around him. + +"What happened?" + +"Something bit me." He showed the back of his hand. A tiny puncture was +visible. + +"Some insect," Thompson said. The matter of an insect bite was of no +concern. Kurkil, and every other member of this expedition, were +disease-proof. Back in Sol Cluster vaccines and immunizing agents had +been developed against every known or conceivable form of germ or virus. +Each member of the crew had been carefully immunized. In addition, they +had been proofed against stress, against mounting neural pressure +resulting from facing real or imaginary danger. + +Barring space collision or an accident on a world they were exploring, +nothing could happen to them. + +"We checked the air, took soil and vegetation samples, before we +landed," Thompson said. "There is nothing here that is harmful to a +human." There was comfort in the thought. + +Kurkil brightened perceptibly. "But, what happened to the race that +built this city?" + +"I don't know," Thompson answered. A tinge of gruffness crept into his +voice as he forced out of his mind the memories of what they had seen in +this building they had entered and had climbed. This had once been an +office building, a place where the unknown people who had worked here +had handled their business transactions and had kept their records. They +had seen no bookkeeping machines, none of the elaborate mechanical +devices used in Sol Cluster to record the pulse of commerce. This race +had not progressed that far. But they had left behind them books written +in an unintelligible script, orders for merchandise still neatly +pigeonholed, all in good order with no sign of disturbance. + +The workers might have left these offices yesterday, except for the +carpets of dust that covered everything. + +"There isn't even any animal life left," Kurkil spoke. + +"I know." + +"But what happened? A race that has progressed to the city-building +stage doesn't just get wiped out without leaving some indication of what +happened to them." + +"Apparently they did just that." + +"But it's not possible." + +"It happened." + +"But--" + +"There's Neff," Thompson spoke. Far down the avenue below them, three +figures had appeared, Neff, Fortune, and Ross. Neff tall and slender, +Fortune round like a ball, and Ross built square like a block of +concrete. Neff saw them on top of the building and beckoned to them. +There was urgency in the gesture. + +"They've found something," Thompson said. With Kurkil following him he +went hastily out of the building. + +"What is it?" + +"Come and see," Neff answered. Neff's face was gray. Fortune and Ross +were silent. + +The building in front of which they were standing had been a house once. +The architecture resembled nothing they had ever seen on Earth but the +purpose of the structure was obvious. Here somebody had lived. Thompson +tried to imagine people living here, the husband coming home in the +evening to the dinner prepared by the wife, kids running to meet him. +His imagination failed. + +"Back here," Neff said. + +They went around what had been a house into what had been a garden of +some kind, a quiet nook where a family might sprawl in peace. "There," +Neff said pointing. + +The three skeletons were huddled together in an alcove in front of what +had once been a shrine. They lay facing the shrine as if they had died +praying. Above them in a niche in a wall was-- + +"An idol," Kurkil whispered. + +"They died praying to their god," Thompson said. He was not aware that +he had spoken. Three skeletons.... + +The bones indicated a creature very similar to the human in structure. A +large, a middle-sized, and a small skeleton. + +"We think the small one is that of a child," Ross spoke. "We think this +was a family." + +"I see," Thompson said. "Did you find other skeletons?" + +"Many others. We found them almost everywhere but usually tucked away in +corners, as if the people had tried to hide from something." His voice +went suddenly into uneasy silence. + +"Any indication as to the cause of death?" + +"None. It apparently came on quite suddenly. We judge that the +inhabitants had some warning. At least we do not seem to find enough +skeletons for a city of this size, so we estimate that part of the +population fled, or tried to." + +"I see," Thompson repeated tonelessly. He caught a vague impression that +something had passed before his eyes, like a darting flicker of light, +and he caught, momentarily, a fast rustle in the air, as of souls +passing. His mind was on the flight of this race, the mass hegira they +had attempted in an effort to escape from some menace. What menace? +"What do you think caused it?" + +Ross shrugged, a gesture eloquent with a lack of knowledge and of +understanding. "War--" + +"No wars were fought on this planet," Neff spoke quickly. "These cities +show no evidence of conflict." + +"Um," Thompson said. The four men were looking uneasily at him. They +were waiting for him to make up his mind, to decide on a course of +action. + +Thompson did not like his own thinking. Something--the blood-brother of +death--had been here on this planet, that much was certain. The evidence +was everywhere. + +"We will return to the ship," Thompson said. + +Grant saw them coming, had the lock open for them. His worried face +looked out at them. "What gives here?" + +"We don't know," Thompson answered. The cat, Buster, pushed forward +between Grant's legs, took a long leap at Thompson's chest, made a +twenty-claw safe landing there. "Hi, old fellow, were you worried about +me?" + +They passed through the lock. "Take her up," Thompson said. "We need a +little time to think about this enigma. Maybe we can think better when +we're not so close to it." + +At his words, relief showed on the faces of the men. "Maybe sometime +soon we'll be heading for home?" Kurkil spoke, grinning hopefully. + +"You can be certain of that," Thompson said. + + * * * * * + +The ship lifted, hung miles high in the air above the silent planet. The +group considered the problem. + +"I vote to make a complete investigation," Grant said. He was full of +eager enthusiasm. "There was a race here. Something happened to it. +We've got to find out what happened because--" He got no further. Slowly +the enthusiasm went from his face. "No, that's not possible," he ended. + +"There's no danger of the virus that destroyed this race crossing space +to Sol Cluster," Kurkil spoke. "The distance is too great." + +"The distance wasn't too great for us to cross it," Fortune spoke. + +"Please," Thompson interrupted. "We can't use logic on this situation +until we have adequate data. The only data we have--" His voice trailed +off into silence as his memory presented him with a facsimile of that +data--silent, deserted cities, a world going back to vegetation, three +skeletons in front of a shrine. + +Abruptly he reached a decision. It was impulsive. "Our tour of +exploration is near an end anyhow. We're leaving. We're heading back to +Sol Cluster. We'll mark this planet on the star maps for further +exploration." + +The face of every man present brightened as he made the announcement. +Sol Cluster! Home! The green world of Earth across the depths of space. +In even the thought there was almost enough magic to wipe out the fear +of what they'd seen back there on the deserted planet. + +Less than an hour later, the drone of the drivers picked up as the ship, +already set on course, began to accelerate in preparation for the jump +into hyper-flight. Thompson was in his cabin making a final check of the +machine-provided flight data. Buster was in his lap half-asleep. +Suddenly the cat jumped from his lap and seemed to pounce on some +elusive prey in the room. The cat caught what it was seeking, its jaws +crunched, it swallowed. + +Thompson stared at the cat from disbelieving eyes. "Buster, are you +dreaming? Did you dream there was a mouse in here?" + +The cat meowed, came toward him, jumped again into his lap and went back +to sleep. Thompson returned to his figures. They were correct. + +Over the ship's communication system came the soft throb of a gong. The +warning that the jump was coming. In his lap, Buster awakened, instantly +sank twenty claws into Thompson's clothing. Thompson reached out and +took a firm grip on the hand holds on his desk, began to breathe deeply. +The gong sounded again. Final warning that the ship was going into +hyper-flight. Thompson took as deep a breath as possible, held it. + +The gong went into silence. The ship throbbed. The jump was in progress. +Thompson had the dazed impression that every atom in his body tried to +turn over at once. For a moment, there was a feeling of intense strain. +Then the feeling was gone as the ship and its contents passed into +hyper-flight. Thompson began to breathe again. In his lap, Buster +relaxed his claw holds, began to purr. Buster was an old hand at taking +these jumps. + +"EEEEEEyooow!" + +The eerie scream that came echoing through the ship seemed to lift up +every single strand of hair on Thompson's head. Thompson ran out of the +cabin. The scream came again, from the lounge. Thompson entered the +lounge just in time to see Kurkil standing in the middle of the room, +rip the last remnant of clothing from his body. Revealed under the +lights, his skin was turning a vivid green. + +Fortune was trying to approach him. Kurkil was warning the man off. + +"Stay away, stay away. Don't touch me. You'll get it." + +In the split second that was needed for Thompson to take in the +situation, the green color flowing over Kurkil's body deepened in +intensity. + +As the color deepened, the screams bubbling on his lips began to die +away. He fell slowly, like a man who is coming unhinged one joint at a +time. + +He was dead before he hit the floor. Dead so completely that not even a +convulsive tremor passed through his body. + +A frozen silence held the lounge. For this was a dream, a nightmare, +wild, distorted imagery. + +Fortune's hand waved vaguely in the direction of Sol Cluster. "It looks +as if we're not as bug and stress proof as they said we were." + +"What happened?" + +"He was sitting there in the chair and I thought he was asleep. Then he +was screaming and tearing his clothes off." Ross spread his hands. "I +tried to help--" + +"I know," Thompson said. He was trying to decide what to do. This ship +possessed no facilities for handling the dead. Such a contingency had +been thought too remote for consideration. Well, there was the ejection +port. "Get sheets," Thompson said. With Fortune and Ross helping, he set +about doing what had to be done. + + * * * * * + +Later, in the lounge, they met to decide what had to be done. Neff, +leaving the drivers on automatic control, came up from the engine room. +Grant came forward from the control room. If any danger presented +itself, warning bells would call them back to their posts. + +They were a silent and an uneasy group. Only Buster remained unaffected. + +"There seems no doubt that we brought the infection back on board ship +with us," Thompson said. + +He had stated the obvious. It got the answer it deserved. Silence. + +"We also must consider the possibility that another of us, possibly all +of us, are infected." + +No man stirred, no man spoke. Apparently they hoped they had not heard +correctly the words that had been spoken. In Thompson's lap Buster +grumbled as if he had understood and did not like what had been said. + +"What are we going to do?" + +"How can we find out what's causing this disease?" + +Two voices came. Then came Fortune's voice. "And even if we find out, +what can we do about it? _They_ couldn't do anything about it." + +"The fact that the race back there couldn't stop the disease, doesn't +mean we can't stop it. We're a different race with a different +metabolism and a different body structure--" + +"Kurkil had the same metabolism and the same body structure," Ross said. + +"We will do what we can," Thompson spoke flatly. In spite of the fact +that these men were supposed to be nerve proof, there was panic in the +air. He could sense it, knew that it had to be stopped before it got +started. Inwardly he cursed the fact that there was no doctor aboard, +but he knew only too well the line of reasoning that had led to the +omission of a physician. + +"We have a medical library," Ross said, tentatively. + +"Yes," Fortune spoke. "And it tells you exactly how to treat every +conceivable form of accident but it doesn't say a single damned word +about infections, and if it did we don't have any medicine to treat +them. + +Again silence fell. In Thompson's lap, Buster squirmed, dropped to the +floor. Tail extended, body low, he moved across the plastic floor as if +he were stalking something that lay beyond the open door. "We'll +fumigate anyhow," Thompson said. "We'll scour the ship." + +There was some relief in action. The clothing that had been worn by the +landing party went out through the ejection lock. Inside the ship, the +floors, walls, and ceilings were scoured by sweating men who worked +feverishly. Fumigants were spread in every room. + +With the spreading of the fumigants, spirits began to rise, but even +then the signs of stress were still all too obvious. No one knew the +incubation period of the virus. Hours only had been needed to bring +Kurkil to his death. But days might pass before the virus developed in +its next victim. + +Months or even years might pass before they were absolutely sure they +were free from any chance of infection. + +By the time the ship reached Sol Cluster, and the automatic controls +stopped its hyper-flight, they might all be dead. + +If that happened, the ship's controls would automatically stop its +flight. It would be picked up by the far-ranging screens of the space +patrol, a ship would be sent out to board it and bring it in. + +At the thought of what would happen then, Thompson went hastily forward +to the control room. Grant, thin-lipped and nervous, was on duty there. +Thompson hastily began plotting a new course. Grant watched over his +shoulder. + +"Make this change," Thompson said. + +"But, Captain--" Grant protested. The man's face had gone utterly white +as he realized the implications of this new course. "No. We can't do +that. It'll mean--" + +"I know what it will mean. And I'm in my right mind, I hope. This course +is a precaution, just in case nobody is left alive by the time we reach +Sol Cluster." + +"But--" + +"Make the change," Thompson ordered bluntly. + +Reluctantly Grant fed the new course into the computers. A throb went +through the vessel as the ship shifted in response. + +"We'll come out of hyper-flight in less than three hours," Grant spoke. +"Heaven help us if this course is not changed before that time." + +"If this course is not changed before that time, Heaven alone can help +us. From now on, you're not to leave this control room for an instant." + +"Yes, sir." + +With Buster following behind him, Thompson left the control room. + +"Yoooow!" The scream coming from the lounge this time was in a different +key and had a different sound. But the meaning was the same as it had +been when Kurkil had screamed. Thompson went forward on the run. + +The victim was Ross. Like Kurkil, he was tearing his clothes off. Like +Kurkil, he was turning green. When he went down, he did not rise again. + +As he stood staring down at Ross, Thompson had the vague impression of +whirring wings passing near him. Whispering wings, as if a soul were +taking flight. + +From the engine room Neff appeared. "I heard somebody scream over the +intercom. Oh, I see." His face worked, his jaws moved as if he was +trying to speak. But no sound came. + +Fortune emerged from his quarters to look down at Ross. "Our fumigating +didn't work, huh?" + +"Maybe he caught the bug on the planet," Thompson said. He tried to put +conviction into his voice. The effort failed. "Get sheets," he said. + + * * * * * + +There was no prayer. There was no burial ceremony. The body went through +the ejection port and disappeared in the vast depths of space. + +Thompson returned to his cabin, slumped down at his desk, Fortune and +Neff following. + +Buster meowed. "Okay, pal." The cat jumped into Thompson's lap. + +"I guess there's not much point in trying to kid ourselves any longer," +Fortune said. His voice was dull and flat, without tone and without +spirit. A muscle in Neff's cheek was twitching. + +"I don't understand you," Thompson said. + +"Hell, you understand me well enough. The facts are obvious. We've +either all got the virus, or it's here in the ship, and we will get it. +All we're doing is waiting to see who goes next. What I want to know +is--Who'll shove the last man through the ejection port?" + +"I don't know," Thompson answered. + +"Isn't there anything else we can do?" The tic in Neff's cheek was +becoming more pronounced. + +"If there is, I don't know--What the hell, Buster?" The cat which had +been lying in his lap, suddenly leaped to the floor. Tail extended, +crouched, eyes alert, the cat seemed to be trying to follow the flight +of something through the air above him. + +Very vaguely, very dimly, Thompson caught the rustle of wings. + +The actions of the cat, and the sound, sent a wave of utter cold washing +over his body. + +Before he could move, the cat leaped upward, caught something in +snapping jaws. + +In the same split second Thompson moved. Before Buster had had time to +swallow, Thompson had caught him behind the jaws, forcing them shut. On +his desk was a bell jar. He lifted it, thrust the cat's head under it, +forced his thumb and forefinger against the jaws of the cat. + +The outraged Buster disgorged something. Thompson jerked the cat's head +from under the jar, slammed down the rim. The angry cat snarled at him. +Neff and Fortune were staring at him from eyes that indicated they +thought he had lost his senses. Thompson paid them no attention. He was +too busy watching something inside the bell jar even to notice that they +existed. + +He could not see the creature under the jar. + +He knew it could fly but he did not know its shape or size. He could +hear it hitting the falls of the jar. And each time it hit the wall, a +tiny greenish smudge appeared at the point of impact. + +"What--what the hell have you got there?" Neff whispered. + +"I don't know for sure. But I think I've got the carrier of the virus." + +"What?" + +"Watch." + +"I can't see anything." + +"Nor can I yet, but I can hear it and I can see the places where it hits +the wall of the jar. There's something under the jar. Something that +Buster has been seeing all along." + +"What?" + +Thompson pointed at the jar. "One or several of those things came into +the ship when the lock was open. We couldn't see them, didn't know they +existed. But Buster saw them. He caught one of them in this cabin soon +after we took off. I thought he was playing a game to amuse himself, +or--" He broke off. From the back of his mind came a fragment of +history, now in the forgotten Dark Ages of Earth, whole populations had +been ravaged and destroyed by a fever that was carried by some kind of +an insect. Did they have some kind of an insect under his jar? + +Holding his breath, Thompson watched. + +The pounding against the walls of the jar was growing weaker. Then it +stopped. On the desk top, a smudge appeared. Wings quavered there, wings +that shifted through a range of rainbow colors as they became visible. + +As the flutter of the wings stopped the whole creature became visible. +Made up of some kind of exceedingly thin tissue that was hardly visible, +it was about as big as a humming bird. + +Silence held the room. Thompson was aware of his eyes coming to focus on +the long pointed bill of the creature. + +"Alive it was not visible at all," Fortune whispered. "Dead, you can see +it." His voice lifted, picked up overtones of terror. "Say an hour or so +ago Ross was complaining that something had bit him." + +Like the last remnant of a picture puzzle fitting together, something +clicked in Thompson's mind. "And Kurkil. While we were out of the ship +something bit him." + +Silence again. His eyes went from Neff to Fortune. "Did--" + +They shook their heads. + +"Then that ties up the package," Thompson whispered. "This creature +carried the virus, or poison, or whatever it was. Without being bitten, +the virus cannot spread. We've found the cause. We've got it licked." + +He was aware of sweat appearing on his face, the sweat of pure relief. +He sank back into his chair. Buster, recovering from his indignity at +the outrage he had suffered, jumped to the top of the desk, settled down +with his nose against the glass, watching the dead creature inside the +bell jar. + +"He caught one of those things right in this cabin," Thompson whispered. +A shudder passed over him and was gone. He had been so close to death, +and had not known it. Buster had saved him. + +Instead of seeking protection from him, the cat, in a sense, had been +protecting him. His gaze centered fondly on the cat. + +"What if there are more of those things in the ship?" Fortune spoke. + +"We can solve that one," Thompson spoke. "Space suits. And, now that we +know what we're looking for, we can clean out the ship. If we don't, +Buster will do it for us." + +"Space suits!" As if he had heard no more than those two words, Fortune +ran from the room. He returned with three suits. They hastily donned +them. + +"No damned bug can bite through one of these things," Neff said +exultantly. "Say, what about Grant? Hadn't we better take him a suit +too?" + +"I should say so. Fortune...." But Fortune was already leaving the room +on his errand. Thompson snapped open the intercom system. "Grant?" + +"Yes, what is it?" + +"We've found the cause and we've got the disease licked." + +Grant's voice a shout coming back from the control room. "Thank God. +I've been sitting here watching Sol grow bigger and bigger...." His +voice suddenly choked, went into silence, then came again, asking a +question. "Is it all right to change course now?" + +"Definitely it's all right," Thompson answered. "In fact, it's an +order." + +An instant later, the ship groaned as the direction of flight was +shifted. Thompson took a deep breath, was aware that Neff was staring at +him. "What was that he said about watching Sol grow bigger and bigger? +Say, what course were we on?" + +"Collision course with the sun," Thompson answered. + +"What?" Neff gasped. "Do you mean to say that you were going to throw +the ship into the sun?" + +Slowly Thompson nodded. "I didn't know whether we would be alive or not +but I didn't want this ship to enter Sol Cluster and turn loose there +the virus that had already depopulated a planet." + +He spoke slowly, with the sure knowledge of a desperate danger safely +passed. Neff stared at him from round and frightened eyes. + +On the desk top Buster gave up his vigil, meowed, and jumped into the +captain's lap. With the thick gloves of his space suit clad hands, +Thompson fondly stroked him. + +Buster arched his back in grateful appreciation and began to purr. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Thompson's Cat, by Robert Moore Williams + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THOMPSON'S CAT *** + +***** This file should be named 31948.txt or 31948.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/9/4/31948/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan 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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