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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/32805-h.zip b/32805-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b669273 --- /dev/null +++ b/32805-h.zip diff --git a/32805-h/32805-h.htm b/32805-h/32805-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cbc3289 --- /dev/null +++ b/32805-h/32805-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1773 @@ +<!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 The Impossible Voyage Home, by F. L. WALLACE. + </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> + +Project Gutenberg's The Impossible Voyage Home, by Floyd L. Wallace + +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: The Impossible Voyage Home + +Author: Floyd L. Wallace + +Illustrator: Dick Francis + +Release Date: June 13, 2010 [EBook #32805] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IMPOSSIBLE VOYAGE HOME *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + +<h1>The Impossible Voyage Home</h1> + +<h2>By F. L. WALLACE</h2> + +<h3>Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS</h3> + +<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction +August 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the +U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="sidenote"><i>The right question kept getting the wrong answer—but old +Ethan and Amantha got the right answer by asking the wrong question!</i></div> + + +<p>"Space life expectancy has been increased to twenty-five months and six +days," said Marlowe, the training director. "That's a gain of a full +month."</p> + +<p><i>Millions of miles from Earth, Ethan also looked discontentedly proud. +"A mighty healthy-looking boy," he declared.</i></p> + +<p>Demarest bent a paperweight ship until it snapped. "It's something. +You're gaining on the heredity block. What's the chief factor?"</p> + +<p>"Anti-radiation clothing. We just can't make them effective enough."</p> + +<p><i>Across space, on distant Mars, Amantha reached for the picture. "How +can you tell he ain't sickly? You can't see without glasses."</i></p> + +<p><i>Ethan reared up. "Jimmy's boy, ain't he? Our kids were always healthy, +'specially the youngest. Stands to reason their kids will be better."</i></p> + +<p><i>"Now you're thinking with your forgettery. They were all sick, one time +or another. It was me who took care of them, though. You always could +find ways of getting out of it." Amantha touched the chair switch.</i></p> + +<p>The planets whirled around the Sun. Earth crept ahead of Mars, Venus +gained on Earth. The flow of ships slackened or spurted forth anew, +according to what destination could be reached at the moment:</p> + +<p>"A month helps," said Demarest. "But where does it end? You can't +enclose a man completely, and even if you do, there still is the air he +breathes and food he eats. Radiation in space contaminates everything +the body needs. And part of the radioactivity finds its way to the +reproductive system."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Marlowe didn't need to glance at the charts; the curve <i>was</i> beginning +to flatten. Mathematically, it was determinable when it wouldn't rise at +all. According to analysis, Man someday might be able to endure the +radiation encountered in space as long as three years, if exposure times +were spaced at intervals.</p> + +<p>But that was in the future.</p> + +<p>"There's a lot you could do," he told Demarest. "Shield the atomics."</p> + +<p>"Working on it," commented Demarest. "But every ounce we add cuts down +on the payload. The best way is to get the ship from one place to +another faster. It's time in space that hurts. Less exposure time, more +trips before the crew has to retire. It adds up to the same thing."</p> + +<p><i>On Mars, Amantha fondled the picture. "Pretty. But it ain't real." She +laid it aside.</i></p> + +<p><i>Ethan squinted at it. "I could make you think it was. Get it enlarged, +solidified. Have them make it soft, big as a baby. You could hold it in +your lap."</i></p> + +<p><i>"Outgrew playthings years ago." Amantha adjusted the chair switch, but +the rocking motion was no comfort.</i></p> + +<p><i>Ethan turned the picture over, face down. "Nope. Hate to back you up, +'Mantha, but it ain't the same. There's nothing like a baby, wettin' and +squallin' and smilin', stubborn when it oughtn't to be and sweet and +gentle when you don't expect it. Robo-dolls don't fool anybody who's +ever held the real thing."</i></p> + +<p>In the interval, Earth had drawn ahead. The gap between the two planets +was widening.</p> + +<p>"That's another fallacy," objected the training director. "The body can +stand just so much acceleration. We're near the limit. What good are +faster ships?"</p> + +<p>"That's your problem," said Demarest. "Get me tougher crewmen. Young, +afraid of nothing, able to take it."</p> + +<p>It always ended here—younger, tougher, the finest the race +produced—and still not good enough. And after years of training, they +had twenty-five months to function as spacemen. It was a precious thing, +flight time, and each trip was as short as science could make it. +Conjunction was the magic moment for those who went between the planets.</p> + +<p>It was the heredity block that kept Man squeezed, confined to Earth, +Mars and Venus, preventing him from ranging farther. The heredity block +was a racial quantity, the germ plasm, but not just that. Crew and +passengers were protected as much as possible from radiation encountered +in space and that which originated in the ship's drive. The protection +wasn't good enough. Prolonged exposure had the usual effects, +sterilization or the production of deformed mutations.</p> + +<p>Man was the product of evolution on a planet. He didn't step out into +space without payment.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The radiation that damaged genes and chromosomes and tinier divisions +also struck nerve cells. Any atom might be hit, blazing, into fission +and decaying into other elements. The process was complicated. The +results were not: the nerve was directly stimulated, producing aural and +visual hallucinations.</p> + +<p>Normally, the hallucination was blanked out. But as the level of body +radioactivity increased, so did the strength of the vision. It dominated +consciousness. The outside world ceased to have meaning.</p> + +<p>The hallucination took only one form, a beautiful woman outside the +ship, unclad and beckoning.</p> + +<p>It was the image of vanished fertility that appeared once the person was +incapable of reproducing <i>as a human</i>.</p> + +<p>Why this was so hadn't been determined. Psychologists had investigated +and learned only that it invariably occurred after too great exposure. +There was another thing they learned. No, that had come first. This was +the reason they had investigated.</p> + +<p>In the Solar System, the greatest single source of radiation, including +the hard rays, was the Sun. It was natural that the siren image should +seem stronger in that direction, that it should fade or retreat toward +its origin. No one had ever returned from compulsive pursuit of the +illusionary woman, though in early days radio contact had been made with +ships racing toward the Sun.</p> + +<p>The heredity block was self-enforcing.</p> + +<p>Deviously, the race protected itself, or something higher watched over +it to assure <i>human</i> continuity. Marlowe wasn't sure which, but it was +there.</p> + +<p>"I think you're on the wrong track," he said. "Shield the ship +completely and it won't matter how long the trip takes. The crew can +work in safety."</p> + +<p>Demarest grunted. "Some day we'll have an inertia-free drive and it +won't matter how much mass we use. It does now. Our designs are a +compromise. Both of us have to work with what's possible, not what we +dream of. I'll build my ship; you find the right crew to man it."</p> + +<p>Marlowe went back to his graphs. Machines could be changed, but the +human body clung stubbornly to the old patterns. He couldn't select his +crews any younger—but was there perhaps a racial type more resistant to +radiation? Where? No place that he knew of. Maybe the biologists could +produce one, he thought hopefully, and knew he was fooling himself. +Human beings weren't fruit flies; by the time enough generations rolled +around for the resistant strain to breed true—and leave a surplus to +man the ships—he would be long dead and the problem solved.</p> + +<p>The best of humanity would be dead, too, wiped out by sterilization.</p> + +<p>Or the Solar System would be peopled by mutant monstrosities.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Far away, and not concerned with the problem, Ethan shrugged resignedly. +"Guess we'll have to get used to the idea—we just won't see him till he +grows up—if we'll still be around."</p> + +<p>"You've got years and years ahead of you, and not worth a thing the +whole time!" Amantha snapped.</p> + +<p>"Damnation," said Ethan wistfully, "I'd like to dandle him."</p> + +<p>"Won't be the same when he grows up and comes here," Amantha conceded. +"There I go agreein' with you! What's got into me?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe we can get on the next slow ship. They run them once in a while +for people with weak hearts." He considered. "Don't know whether Retired +Citizens' Home will let us go, though."</p> + +<p>"Retired Citizens!" She blew her nose scornfully. "They think we don't +know it's just a home for the aged!" She threw away the tissue. "Think +they'll let us?"</p> + +<p>"It won't be them so much that'll stop us. Our hearts ain't too good and +we haven't got much space time to use. We shouldn't have gone to Venus."</p> + +<p>"We had to see Edith and Ed and their kids and we had to come back to +Mars so we could be near John and Pearl and Ray. Let's not regret what +we've done." She picked at the chair arm. "We've been here a long time, +ain't we?"</p> + +<p>Ethan nodded.</p> + +<p>"Maybe they've forgotten we've only got a month left," she said eagerly.</p> + +<p>"You sure it's a month?"</p> + +<p>"Figure it out. It took longer when we went."</p> + +<p>"Then it's no use. A slow ship is all we'd be allowed to take—and we +wouldn't be allowed because it'd be more than a month."</p> + +<p>"They won't remember every last minute we spent in space."</p> + +<p>"They will, too," he stated. "They've got records."</p> + +<p>"Maybe they lost them."</p> + +<p>"Look, we've got kids and grandchildren here. They come around and see +us. Do we have to go to Earth, 'specially when it'd be against the law?"</p> + +<p>"That's just it," she argued. "We've seen all our other kids' kids. +Ain't we going to see the youngest? How do we know his wife can take +care of a baby? I can't sleep nights, thinking of it."</p> + +<p>"Try catnaps during the day, like I do."</p> + +<p>Amantha touched the button and the automatic chair stopped abruptly. +"Are you going to try to get tickets or aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"I'll think about it. Go ahead and rock."</p> + +<p>"I won't," she said obstinately, "not even if it was the kind of chair +you can rock yourself. I thought I married a man who'd make me happy."</p> + +<p>"I've always done my best. Go ahead and rock."</p> + +<p>"But will you try to get the tickets?"</p> + +<p>Ethan nodded resignedly and felt better when the chair began to swing +back and forth. There was no living with a woman when she didn't have +peace of mind.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Amantha lay in bed, listening. Sometimes her hearing was very good, the +way it used to be. Other times, it wasn't worth a thing. The way it came +and went reminded her of when she was young and used to wonder why old +folks couldn't hear. Now she could often lie next to Ethan and not even +notice whether he was snoring. Tonight her hearing was good.</p> + +<p>Footsteps came from the hall, creaky noises of someone trying not to +make a sound. She'd lain awake many nights, hearing him come home. She +knew who it was and for once she didn't mind. The Home for Retired +Citizens had rules.</p> + +<p>Careful, she thought. There's the bad spot where the floor's thin and +bends when you step on it. Then when your foot comes off it, it goes +ploinnnnng. They don't build right any more. Skimping and trying to +save.</p> + +<p>But there wasn't a sound. Ethan avoided it. When she thought of it, she +realized he had a suspicious amount of skill—the skill of practice.</p> + +<p>Ethan was fumbling at the door and she forgot her irritation. She +slipped out of bed and swung the door open. He stumbled in against her. +"'Mantha, they laughed—"</p> + +<p>"Did you have anything to eat?" she broke in.</p> + +<p>"Cup of that Mars coffee. But—"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk till you get something hot inside. Empty belly, empty head."</p> + +<p>"Can't eat stuff that comes out of the wall. I'll wait till breakfast."</p> + +<p>She flicked the light on low and punched the selector. She took the +glow-plate from under the bed and set it on the table. As the food +arrived, she heated it and began adding spices. "There—it ain't real +food, but you can pretend."</p> + +<p>Ethan pretended and, when the food was gone, wiped his lips and looked +at her.</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Now you can tell me—but keep your voice low. Don't wake +anyone up."</p> + +<p>Ethan stretched and creaked. "Went down to the Interplanet office and +they wouldn't talk to me. Said there wasn't any ship leaving for the +next ten months and they didn't sell tickets in advance. I kept +pestering them and they got mad. They looked up our records and said we +couldn't go anytime, except on a fast ship, and, considering our age, it +was doubtful they'd let us. Didn't give up, though, and finally they +said we might get a release from the man who'd take us. Maybe they +wanted to get rid of me. Anyway, they sent me down to talk with one of +the pilots."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Amantha approved. Go straight to the man responsible. Persistence could +get you there.</p> + +<p>"He talked real nice for a while," Ethan continued. "He explained he +didn't own the ship and didn't have the say-so who he took. I knew you +wanted to go real bad. I offered him the money we'd saved."</p> + +<p>"<i>All</i> of it, Ethan?"</p> + +<p>"Don't get mad. Figured it was worth it to you."</p> + +<p>"Don't believe in paying extra," she mused, "but did you tell him we +could borrow some if it wasn't enough?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't get a chance. He started laughing, saying didn't I understand he +got paid not just for each trip, but for all the years after that, when +he was finished and had used up his time and couldn't work at the only +thing he knew? Saying that he wouldn't risk that kind of security for +any money and I was an idiot for believing he might." Ethan trembled.</p> + +<p>"Never mind. He's an old fool."</p> + +<p>"He's younger than Jimmy."</p> + +<p>"Some people get wisdom when they're young."</p> + +<p>Ethan sat morosely in the chair. "If Jimmy hadn't made that last trip, +he'd be here and he'd have married a girl here and his kids would be +here. We wouldn't have to worry about them."</p> + +<p>"I guess so, but he was lucky anyway. They found out he wasn't as strong +as he was supposed to be and wouldn't let him come back." She began +clearing the dishes. "How'd they know he couldn't come back?"</p> + +<p>"They got tests. They give them each trip."</p> + +<p>She should have thought of it. They had tests. Because of tests, Jimmy +was safe but distant. She sat down.</p> + +<p>"Tired." Ethan yawned. "Let's go to bed."</p> + +<p>"You go. I'm thinking."</p> + +<p>Amantha went on thinking while he undressed and lay down. Sometimes it +was difficult—things weren't as clear as they used to be. Tonight, +though, she had no trouble managing her mind. A woman who had kids had +to know her way around things. Presently, she said, "Tomorrow I'm going +to bake."</p> + +<p>Ethan stirred. "Won't do no good. Didn't say so, but there was a girl +talking to the pilot when I got there. She was crying and begging him to +take her to Earth next trip. Said she'd do anything if he would."</p> + +<p>"Shame on her!" exclaimed Amantha. "But did it work?"</p> + +<p>"She was young and pretty and still he wouldn't pay attention to her," +said Ethan. "What chance would you have?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to bake tomorrow. In the morning, we're supposed to go for a +walk. We'll take a big basket. Do you remember the old canal nobody goes +near any more?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer. Ethan was asleep. Now that she'd decided what to +do, she lay down beside him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The sentry huddled in his post. It was insulated and supplied with +oxygen, very much like a spacesuit. Though big for a spacesuit, it was a +small place to spend hours in without relief. But there were +compensations: never anything to do—except as now. He went to the mike.</p> + +<p>"Get back," he shouted.</p> + +<p>They paid no attention.</p> + +<p>Swearing, he shouted again, turning up the volume. Even in the thin air, +he had enough sound to blast them off their feet. But they kept on +going. He poked the snout of his weapon through the porthole and then +withdrew it. Who'd given him those orders anyway? He didn't have to obey +them. He clamped on his oxygen helmet and slipped into electric mitts +and hurried outside.</p> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded, standing in front of +them.</p> + +<p>"Hello," said Amantha. "Didn't see anyone around."</p> + +<p>Damn senior citizens—they never used hearing aids. "You've got to turn +around and go back," he said.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>He was shivering and didn't see how they could stand it. Thin clothing +and obsolete oxygen equipment. Oddly, they could take more than you'd +think, though. Used to it, he supposed. "Come on in," he commanded +gruffly. He wasn't going to freeze. They followed him into the post. +"Didn't you see the signs to keep out?"</p> + +<p>"But the ships aren't using the field. What harm are we doing?"</p> + +<p>"Orders," he said. There were still a few pilots checking over their +ships, making sure everything was in working condition before they were +locked up. In a week, all flight personnel would be gone to the +settlements, there to await the next round of voyages when Earth came +near. They had it soft, while he, the guard, had to stay in cold +discomfort.</p> + +<p>"We're going to visit a friend of my son," said Amantha. "They were +pilots together. Do you object?"</p> + +<p>He didn't, but there were some who would. The order made sense with +respect to little boys who would otherwise swarm over the field, falling +off ships or getting stuck in rocket tubes.</p> + +<p>"What have you got?" he asked, eying Amantha's parcel dubiously.</p> + +<p>"I baked something." She opened a corner of the package and the smell +drifted out. "Made it with Martian fruit. Not much of it around these +days."</p> + +<p>He sniffed and became hungry. That was queer—he'd eaten before coming +on duty.</p> + +<p>"Okay," he said. "You can go. Don't get caught or it's my neck." He +stood closer to the old man and woman, and the package, too, and pointed +out the window. "Act like you're leaving in case anyone's checking up. +When you get near the line of ships, duck behind them and walk along +until you find the right one. No one will see you except me."</p> + +<p>Amantha pinched the package together. "I'd give you some, but I can't +cut it before the pilot sees it."</p> + +<p>"I guess you can't," said the sentry wistfully. "Maybe he won't eat all +of it."</p> + +<p>"May he won't. I'll bring you back what's left—if there <i>is</i> any left."</p> + +<p>Long after they were gone, the sentry stood there, trying to analyze the +indefinable odor. He was still standing there when the checkup squad +marched in and arrested him for gross dereliction of duty.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Go away," said the pilot, disappearing from the viewport. Ethan pounded +on the hull with a rock. The pilot came back, twisting his face. "Stop +it. I'll angle the rocket tubes around and squirt you with them."</p> + +<p>Ethan raised the rock.</p> + +<p>"Okay," said the pilot. "I'll talk to you, though I know what you want." +Sullenly, he made the hatch swing open. He looked down at them. "All +right, let's hear it."</p> + +<p>"Got a present for you," said Ethan.</p> + +<p>"Not allowed to take bribes unless it's money."</p> + +<p>"Young man, where are your manners?" snapped Amantha.</p> + +<p>"Haven't got any. It's the first thing they train out of you." The pilot +started to jerk his head back, saw the rock and decided not to close the +hatch. He glanced at the narrow ladder to the ground. "I'll take your +present. Bring it up."</p> + +<p>He stopped smirking as Amantha hitched up her skirts and, holding the +package in one hand, swung up the ladder. Agile as goats and probably as +sensible, he thought. He took hold of her as she neared the top.</p> + +<p>"Grandma, you're too old to climb around. You'll break every brittle +bone in your body if you fall."</p> + +<p>"Ain't so brittle," said Amantha, making way for Ethan who had followed +her. "My, it's cold!" She began shivering. "Invite us in to get warm."</p> + +<p>"You can't go in. I'm busy. Hey, wait!" The pilot hurried after her into +the control compartment.</p> + +<p>Amantha was looking around when he arrived. "Cozy but kind of bare," she +said. "Why don't you hang up pictures?"</p> + +<p>"Most fabulous pictures you'll ever see are right there."</p> + +<p>Amantha followed his glance. "Nothing but Mars. I can see that every +day." She puzzled over it. "Oh, you're teasing an old woman. I didn't +mean what you see out of the port, stars and planets and such. I'd want +a picture of an Indian settin' on a horse."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet!" muttered the pilot. "Get warm in a hurry. I've got work to +do."</p> + +<p>"You just go ahead," she said. "We'll set here and toast our toes. We +don't aim to interfere."</p> + +<p>"I'll stay," said the pilot hastily. "Let's have the present." He'd made +a tactical error—he should have ignored the noise that went shimmering +through the hull when the old man had pounded with a rock. No, it was +nice to think he could have, but impossible. Patience was one of the +things the aged did have and the young didn't.</p> + +<p>Amantha set the package down. The pilot scrambled ahead of her and got +the navigator's instruments off the desk and into the drawer.</p> + +<p>She opened and displayed the contents.</p> + +<p>"I baked it for you," she said. "It's a cake."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He could see what it was. "Hate cake," he said. "Can't eat it."</p> + +<p>"You'll eat this. Canalberry shortcake."</p> + +<p>"Canalberry?" he asked, wrinkling his face. He smelled it and changed +expressions in the middle of a wrinkle. Resolutely, he turned away from +it and saw Ethan clearly, perhaps for the first time. It was the old man +who had tried to bribe him a few days ago. They weren't as innocent as +they seemed. What were they trying to do?</p> + +<p>"Ain't you even going to taste it?" she urged.</p> + +<p>He shuddered suspiciously. It smelled good, though he had told the truth +about hating the stuff. Under other circumstances, he might have nibbled +at a piece for politeness' sake.</p> + +<p>"Can't. Doctor's orders."</p> + +<p>"Diabetic? Didn't think they let them in space-service," said Amantha. +"Funny, it's the same with Ethan. He can't eat sweets, either." She +looked at her creation. "Seems a shame to bring it so far to somebody +who can't touch it. Do you mind if I cut myself a slice?"</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Grandma."</p> + +<p>"Amantha," she corrected him and brought out a knife and two small +plates. He wondered if there was any significance. <i>Two</i> plates.</p> + +<p>She laid a slice on the plate and poked at it with a fork that was also +in the package. She put the fork down and picked up the cake.</p> + +<p>"It don't taste right unless you eat it the way it was meant to be," she +said.</p> + +<p>He watched her in anguish. His nose quivered and his stomach rumbled. He +shouldn't have let them in.</p> + +<p>A crumb fell to the floor and Amantha reached for it. She straightened +up, a berry in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Canalberries," she said. "They're nearly all gone. Used to be you could +hardly go anywhere without stepping in them."</p> + +<p>She crushed the berry and the rich aroma swept devastatingly through the +air.</p> + +<p>"Sure you won't have some?" she asked, slicing the cake and placing it +in front of him. When he finished that, he cut another, and another, +until the cake was gone.</p> + +<p>The pilot settled logily in a chair and dozed off. Amantha and Ethan +watched him in silence.</p> + +<p>The pilot got up and began to stretch lazily without seeming to notice +them. The laziness disappeared and the stretch changed into a jerk that +seemed to elongate his body. He sprang out of the compartment and went +leaping down the corridor. When he came to the hatch, he didn't +hesitate. The ladder was too slow. He jumped.</p> + +<p>He landed on the sand, sinking in to his knees. He extricated himself +and went bounding over the field.</p> + +<p>"Never saw canalberries take so long," muttered Amantha. "Don't know +what's wrong. Nothing's as good as it used to be."</p> + +<p>She shook off her hat and closed the airlock.</p> + +<p>"You don't need those nose plugs any more, Ethan. Come on, let's see if +you remember."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Several hours later, she twirled unfamiliar knobs and, by persistence +and beginner's luck, managed to get the person she wanted.</p> + +<p>"You the commander?" Since he had a harassed look, she assumed he was. +"Thought you might be worried about that poor boy."</p> + +<p>"Madam, what do you want?" He scowled at the offscreen miscreant who had +mistakenly summoned him. "I'm chasing criminals. I haven't got time to +chat about old times."</p> + +<p>"Don't sass me. I thought you might want to know how to stop that poor +boy from running around."</p> + +<p>The commander sat down. "What young man?" he asked calculatingly.</p> + +<p>"Don't know his name," said Amantha. "He ran out of the ship before we +could ask him."</p> + +<p>"So <i>you're</i> the poisoner," said the commander coldly. "If he dies, +neither your age nor your sex will make any difference."</p> + +<p>"Just canalberries," Amantha assured him. "Reckon you wouldn't know +about them."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Canalberries. Used to be lots of them. Males, men and animals, just +can't help eating them. Don't bother women or any other kind of females. +Biologists used to tell us it was a seed-scattering device. Guess so. +Won't hurt him none. Try bicarb and vinegar. It'll fix him up."</p> + +<p>"For your sake, I hope it will!" said the commander. "He's in a bad +way." He stabbed a pencil at her and his voice became stern. "If you +follow directions, I'm sure I can get you off lightly."</p> + +<p>"Think we will?" said Amantha.</p> + +<p>The commander hurried on. "It's hard to find a ship in space. Stay where +you are or, if you can, turn around and come back—<i>slowly</i>. We'll send +a ship up and transfer a competent pilot to bring you down. Do you +hear?"</p> + +<p>"Real plain. You got good radios on these ships."</p> + +<p>He smothered a growl. "Your lives are in danger. We're not going to +chase out and rescue you unless you cooperate." It was an +understatement. If they observed radio silence, search ships would never +find them. They might not think of it, but he wouldn't bet. They were +smart enough to steal the ship.</p> + +<p>There was another thing. From what he'd learned from records, they were +close to the exposure limit. Any moment now, they might go berserk, +turning their course fatally toward the Sun. He had to be careful what +he said.</p> + +<p>"We'll get you out of this, but only if you help. I refuse to sacrifice +men and waste their flight time, which is more precious than any ship, +merely to save two senile incompetents. Is this clear?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Amantha. "We've got to go home."</p> + +<p>The commander rubbed his hands. They weren't as stubborn as he feared. +He'd rescue them.</p> + +<p>"Good. I'll have men aloft in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"Guess it was you who didn't hear," she said. "Our home is on Earth."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>II</h2> + + +<p>"There's no one here," said the robot blocking the door.</p> + +<p>"We'll wait." Amantha tried to go inside. The robot wouldn't move.</p> + +<p>It was dark and windy and, from the steps, they could see lights of +houses glowing around them. Not many—it was near the edge of the little +town. Farther away, over the hill, the ship nestled safely in a valley. +No one had seen them land. They were sure of it.</p> + +<p>Ethan removed his hat and his bent shoulders straightened. He seemed to +grow taller.</p> + +<p>"Rain," he said in awe. "Thirty years and yet I haven't forgotten what +it's like."</p> + +<p>"It's wet, that's what it's like," said Amantha. "Robot, let us in or +I'll have Ethan take a wrench to you. He loves to tinker."</p> + +<p>"I can't be threatened. My sole concern is the welfare of my charge. +Also, I'm too large for any human to hurt me."</p> + +<p>"Damnation, I'm soppin'!" complained Ethan. "It's better to remember the +rain than to be in it."</p> + +<p>"Wait till my son Jimmy gets back. He'll be ravin'. Makin' us stay out +here and get soaked."</p> + +<p>"Son? Is the Jimmy you refer to Pilot James Huntley?"</p> + +<p>"Ex-pilot."</p> + +<p>"Correct. But he's not at home. He took his wife to the hospital half an +hour ago."</p> + +<p>"So soon?" gasped Amantha. "Thought I taught him better than that. Women +have got to rest between kids."</p> + +<p>"It's not another child," said the robot with disinterest. "It has to do +with one of the ills flesh is heir to and machines are not. Nothing +serious."</p> + +<p>Ethan fidgeted, turning up his collar. Water began flowing from the +eaves. "Stop arguin' and let us in. Jimmy will turn off your juice when +he finds you've kept his folks outside."</p> + +<p>"Folks? He has none here. A mother and father living happily on Mars. +They died quite recently, lost in space and plunging into the Sun."</p> + +<p>"Make up your mind," Amantha said peevishly. "We ain't on Mars, we +weren't happy and we didn't get lost and plunge into the Sun."</p> + +<p>"I merely repeat—in sequence—the information I'm given or overhear. If +it's inconsistent, so are humans. I'm used to it."</p> + +<p>"'Mantha, they think we're dead," said Ethan. He wiped a raindrop away. +"Poor Jimmy!"</p> + +<p>A thin wail came from a crack in the door. The robot's eyes shone +briefly, then dimmed.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" asked Amantha. "Sounds like a baby. Thought you said no +one was home."</p> + +<p>"No responsible adult. Only a child. Because of that, I can admit no one +except the parents—or a doctor if I decide one is needed." The robot +whirred and drew itself up. "He's absolutely safe. I'm a Sitta."</p> + +<p>"You sure are. Now get out of my way before I jab you. The kid's +crying."</p> + +<p>"He is, but it's no concern of yours. I'm better acquainted with infant +behavior than any human can be. The pathetic sob merely means that the +child wants attention. I was given no instructions to hold him."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Again the child cried. "Who needs to be told?" demanded Amantha. "Nobody +gives grandmothers instructions."</p> + +<p>"He's got a grandfather to cuddle him," added Ethan. "How far do you +think we came to do it?"</p> + +<p>"And he's not cryin' because he wants attention. Something's stickin' +him and he's hungry. Don't you think a grandmother would know?"</p> + +<p>"There's nothing that can stick him, but if, by accident, something +sharp had gotten in his bed and if he were also hungry, he would sound +like this." The Sitta hunched down and swiveled its head, giving an +imitation. "You see? I do nothing but watch babies. It's built into me."</p> + +<p>Inside the house, the child's tone changed, became querulous, listening. +Interrogatively, it offered a single yowl.</p> + +<p>"My analysis was correct. It wanted attention. The parents left so +hurriedly, they forgot to give me permission. When I didn't come to +investigate, the child stop—"</p> + +<p>The wail burst forth with renewed vigor.</p> + +<p>The robot rotated its head and the alert look flashed on and off. It +stuttered, "I know w-what I'm doing. But I—I can tell only what has +happened to my charge, n-never what <i>will</i>!" The Sitta rumbled +bewilderedly. "Anticipation is beyond my capacity. The child <i>is</i> hurt +and hungry. Please come in and help me."</p> + +<p>Triumphantly, Amantha followed the robot into the house toward the +nursery. She whispered to Ethan, "Sittas ain't smart. I reckon he never +heard a bunch of babies together. If one cries, they all do."</p> + +<p>The Sitta barred the path. "You seem sincere and are obviously an +expert. But before you go in, understand this—attempt no harm to the +being in there. I'm linked."</p> + +<p>"You'll be unlinked if you don't stop acting balky," warned Amantha. She +ducked under his arm and darted toward the crib.</p> + +<p>"By linked, I mean that if anything happens that I require aid to +handle, an alarm rings in Sittas Circle and help is on the way. +Meanwhile, I can put out fires or carry him unharmed through concrete +walls."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, run through a wall," invited Amantha abstractly, snatching up +the child. "The darling's wet, too. Fetch me a diaper."</p> + +<p>The robot fetched at her command. And when the child was quiet, even +cooing, but with a sharp undertone of protest, Amantha settled back. +"Now we've got to feed him."</p> + +<p>"They didn't give me special instructions and I can't originate. If you +hadn't come, I'd have had to contact a doctor."</p> + +<p>Amantha handed the child to Ethan. "You hold him." She went into the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>Ethan tossed the child up. "Here we go," he bellowed. "Free fall. Got to +start early to make a spaceman out of you." The Sitta stared at them, +puzzled, as the infant shrieked with fear or joy. "Now if only Jimmy was +here to see us," said Ethan, grinning proudly.</p> + +<p>Jimmy didn't come back soon enough. The police arrived first.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Ethan wandered to the window. The ground was far below. He didn't want +to think of what was outside the door.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind jail myself—been in a few." He looked at Amantha. "Just for +raising hell. Never thought I'd be responsible for putting <i>you</i> behind +bars."</p> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>"It wasn't you," said Amantha, her back straightening. "Curious about it +myself." Wisps of hair straggled over her face. "I mean why didn't we +think of it on Mars? Didn't we know what they'd do?"</p> + +<p>"I guess we didn't." Ethan cracked his knuckles contemplatively. "Did it +occur to you?"</p> + +<p>"No. I can't understand." She frowned, but it didn't help clarify what +she was thinking about.</p> + +<p>"We're criminals," said Ethan soberly. "Thieves."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind for us. Jail's not much worse than the home for Retired +Citizens. It's our grandson I'm thinking of."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry. They won't do a thing to him." His eyes widened and he +wiped off the sweat. "Oh. I see what you mean."</p> + +<p>"Jailbirds," said Amantha. "We'll still be in here when he grows up. +It's a fine way to help your kin. They'll never trust him with us in his +family."</p> + +<p>"Jailbirds," repeated Ethan mournfully. By some magic, his face cracked +along the wrinkles and broke into a smile. "But once we flew," he +whispered to himself.</p> + +<p>The door opened and an official of some sort came in. Outside, Ethan +caught a brief glimpse of guards.</p> + +<p>Marlowe, chief training director of space pilots for Interplanet +Transport, Inc., walked in silence across the room and eased tiredly +into a chair behind the desk. He'd gotten the news late at night, having +been the first one contacted. The ship that had been lost had showed up +in the atmosphere. There couldn't be a mistake. No other flight was +scheduled for months.</p> + +<p>"Follow it," he had ordered and the trackers had kept it on the screen, +flashing a message to the police as soon as they located where it +landed. It was logical that it should go where it did, but he didn't +think that anything about this flight was susceptible to a rational +approach.</p> + +<p>Marlowe's eyelids felt lined with sand, but that was as nothing compared +to his mental irritation. The two oldsters were dead and the ship was +vaporized in the Sun. But, of course, it wasn't true and he had to +figure out why.</p> + +<p>Others would be here to help him unravel the mystery, from Demarest on +down. Meanwhile, he was first. There was a lesson to learn if he could +figure out what it was. Damn these senile incompetents.</p> + +<p>"Ethan and Amantha Huntley?" he asked. They didn't fit in with his +preconceived picture.</p> + +<p>"You the judge?" said Ethan. "I demand to see a lawyer. We've got our +rights."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you let our son in?" Amantha protested. "I know he's been +dying to see us. You can't keep us locked up like this."</p> + +<p>"Please! I've just come from a consultation with your son. You'll see +him soon. As for being detained, you've been well treated. Most of the +time, doctors have been examining you. Isn't that true?"</p> + +<p>"What's that got to do with it?" challenged Ethan. "Never been sick a +day in my life. Sure, my back hurts, and now and then my knees swell up. +But it's nothing. We didn't ask for a doctor. Got our own on Mars. Young +fellow, fifty or sixty."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Facts contradicted each other. They were what Marlowe expected and yet +they weren't. It was hard to determine. Records showed that if the old +couple were not actually senile incompetents, they were close to it. Now +that they'd returned the ship in good condition, legal action against +them would be dangerous. Everyone had grandparents and knew that they +were sometimes foolish. It was a spot to get out of as gracefully as the +company could.</p> + +<p>It was as training director for Interplanet Transport, however, that he +was interested in them.</p> + +<p>"You were in space for nearly four months," he said. "Few people take +that much exposure to radiation at one time. We had to determine the +state of your health. The evaluation isn't complete, but I think we can +say you're in no immediate danger."</p> + +<p>Did they understand? It was doubtful. No one else would have stolen the +ship and attempted to bring it to Earth. But, damn it, they had done so, +landing the ship on the outskirts of the little town, unobserved in the +gathering storm.</p> + +<p>The facts were painfully fresh in his mind.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know something of your background," said Marlowe. "What's +your experience with spaceships?"</p> + +<p>"Went to Venus in one," Ethan answered. "Also took a trip to Mars. +Stayed there."</p> + +<p>The old man had haunted the control compartment, watching how it was +done. Some people did. But that was not a substitute for experience.</p> + +<p>"That was long ago and you were a passenger. Anything more recent?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. Except for this last trip."</p> + +<p>That was what didn't make sense.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure? Be honest. Check your memory."</p> + +<p>The old man had once piloted jets. But it was not the same.</p> + +<p>"No other experience," said Ethan. "Had training, though."</p> + +<p>Marlowe knew it. Without training, no one could manage takeoff and +landing. Somehow, the official search had failed to uncover this vital +information. "Where did you take it?"</p> + +<p>"Forget the name. Remember every word of it, though."</p> + +<p>Marlowe nodded. It was often the case. Early memories were fresh and +clear while later events blew over the enfeebled mind and left no trace. +"But you didn't tell me where."</p> + +<p>"Don't remember that part of it. It was a mighty good course. Wasn't +accepted, even though I passed, after paying for my lessons in advance. +They said I was too old."</p> + +<p>Air lodged in his throat—Marlowe doubled over. If he'd heard +rightly.... Good God, there were angels and correspondence courses that +watched over the aged! No—give the credit to angels.</p> + +<p>"I realized I wasn't as spry as I used to be," continued Ethan +seriously. "Can't shoot off a planet or slam down on one the way your +pilots do. We were at the far end of the field, quite a ways off. +Everybody was busy with the pilot who was running around. They were +trying to help him.</p> + +<p>"Guess they didn't see us. They'd have laughed if they did. We went up +slow, kind of wobbly. But we got off."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The old man was beaming, proud of it. He didn't know it wasn't skill but +the built-in safety factor, all the stabilizing mechanisms coming into +play at once. Demarest, the chief of construction, had seen to it that +the ships were well designed. Marlowe would have to commend him when he +got here.</p> + +<p>A thought occurred to the training director. If the stabilizing +mechanisms were there, why not use them always? Of course, it wasn't +that simple. Interplanetary ship stabilizers weren't effective at high +speed.</p> + +<p>Another thought crowded in. Why such high speed? That was something over +which there was no choice. The protective atmosphere had to be left +swiftly. The speed was added to at every opportunity. It was possible to +slow down only at the last moment. Otherwise....</p> + +<p>Otherwise what?</p> + +<p>There was no escape from the conclusion—otherwise heredity was altered +and mutations would result. Marlowe sat back. This was true without +exception. It was the biggest factor that controlled the conditions of +interplanetary flight. But—</p> + +<p><i>They'd had their children!</i></p> + +<p>Marlowe's pulse increased. As training director, he'd learned not to +leap at things that merely looked good. He had to examine them +carefully. But—well, it was a new approach, though he couldn't really +expect anything from it. There was more to a crew than a pilot, more to +space flight than one incredible lucky voyage, for angels took +vacations, too.</p> + +<p>"You weren't on duty at all times," Marlowe pointed out. "Then there's +navigation."</p> + +<p>"Don't sleep much," said Ethan. "Catnap once in a while." He thought it +over. "When I did sleep, 'Mantha helped out." He looked at her. "I'm not +the expert on navigation. You'd better ask her."</p> + +<p>"<i>No!</i>" cried Marlowe.</p> + +<p>"Why not? Just because I'm a woman?" Her eyes were bright.</p> + +<p>"But who taught you navigation?"</p> + +<p>Amantha sniffed. "Look here, young man, don't tell me what I can learn." +She closed her eyes and imagination carried her back to the ship. "Lots +of dials and gadgets—but I used to have near as many in my kitchen +before they said I was too old to cook. Anyway, you don't have to figure +it out on paper. If you look at things just right, you sort of know +where you are."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Amantha folded her hands. "First, you take a big handful of the Sun's +attraction and mix it with a bigger scoop of the gravitation of the +planet you happen to be on. For us, that was Mars. Then you add a pinch +of acceleration. That's what makes you rise. When you get out a ways, +you decrease Mars and add more Earth and another pinch of Sun, stirring +it around in your mind each day until it feels just right."</p> + +<p>She smiled. "I never did hold with too much measuring."</p> + +<p>The muscles in Marlowe's chest felt cramped from holding his breath in. +While she spoke, he could almost believe she knew what she was doing, +that she had a knack for it. Perhaps she did—brief flashes of clarity +swept over her senile, beclouded mind. And the same with the old man. +These instances of sanity—and luck—had pulled them through.</p> + +<p>The ship was back, unharmed. He shouldn't ask for more. And yet—they +had made it to Earth.</p> + +<p>The chute in the desk clattered noisily and ejected a packet. Marlowe +looked at it—it was for him. The full medical report; it had been slow +in coming. But this was a small town. The doctor who had looked them +over was good, though. Marlowe made certain of that.</p> + +<p>He opened the report and read. When he finished, he knew that though +luck and angels had been with them on takeoff and part of the +passage—along with dimly remembered fragments of unrelated skills that +had somehow coalesced into a working knowledge of how to run a ship—it +wasn't the whole story. When they landed on Earth, it was no miracle. +They had known what they were doing.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Ethan. "Habeas corpus?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Marlowe. But in one sense it was, though of a kind that no +mere judge could return a verdict on. He read the report again.</p> + +<p>"No evidence of mental senility," it said in part. "Micro-samples of +brain cells seem to be taken from someone about forty or fifty. Physical +reactions are slow but firm and consistent. There are puzzling aspects. +Certain obscure functions apparently are those of septuagenarians. +Others are in keeping with the mental age. The weakest organs govern, of +course; they should live another thirty years, as if they really were in +their seventies. However, locomotion and judgment should not be impaired +until the very end. Query: Are you sure these are the people I was +supposed to examine? I couldn't find that deep, inoperable, though +non-malignant tumor the man was supposed to have."</p> + +<p>Marlowe folded and refolded the report. Radiation could kill. But it +could also cure. It was a standard treatment. But never so drastic and +not on the aged for this purpose. He had come at once on two monumental +discoveries, both by accident. How many discoveries <i>were</i> accidental?</p> + +<p>These two wouldn't live longer, but they would have a better life and in +full possession of their senses.</p> + +<p>"Sure, we borrowed—stole the ship," said Ethan abruptly, interrupting +Marlowe's thoughts. "You got it back, but that don't change things. +We've got money. We might have enough to pay for most of the fuel."</p> + +<p>"It's not necessary. We'll charge it off as an experiment." Marlowe +tried to frown. Perhaps he succeeded. "In return for not prosecuting, I +want you to abandon your pension and go to work for Interplanet +Transport."</p> + +<p>Ethan's joints creaked as he sat up eagerly. "Work it off? Sounds fair." +There were wrinkles on his face and there never would be any less, but +they weren't as deep as they had been, not when they formed the network +of a smile. "I can sweep out a ship. Maybe you'd even let me go on a +trip once in a while. I could be a cabin boy."</p> + +<p>They had been considered useless and incapable for so long that they +still didn't realize what he was saying. They weren't childish, but they +thought they were. Re-education would have to proceed slowly.</p> + +<p>"I had a trip in mind for you," said Marlowe. "And Amantha will have to +go to work, too."</p> + +<p>"Young man, it's been a long time since I cooked anything but one +canalberry shortcake, but you just watch what I can stir up."</p> + +<p>"I've got just the place for you," Marlowe answered. "One more +stipulation—don't talk about your experiences. If reporters come +around, and I think they will, say merely that we traced the ship and, +after conferring with you, decided to drop all charges. Understand?"</p> + +<p>Amantha nodded. "Look bad for you, wouldn't it? Not guarding the ships +any better than that, I mean."</p> + +<p>He was thankful their minds had merely been resharpened, that they would +never regain their original edge. She was right—it <i>would</i> look bad. +Also, the company had competitors. And by the time <i>they</i> got wind of +it, he wanted to have a head-start. Only a few of the aged would fit in +with his plans, though the rest would benefit, and by more than a change +of status.</p> + +<p>Marlowe nodded. "That's it. Report tomorrow and we'll go over your +assignments."</p> + +<p>"Guess you don't know what we're like," said Ethan. "We've hardly seen +our littlest grandson yet. What do you suppose we stole—experimented +with the ship for?"</p> + +<p>Marlowe watched them go and, as the door closed, began to write +hurriedly. The others would be here soon. He wanted to have it +summarized by the time they arrived.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later, he looked at what he'd put down. It was on the back +of the medical report.</p> + +<p>"Memo: Change the design of our lastest ship. Instead of a heavy-hulled, +superfast rocket, requiring the utmost in bodily coordination and +stamina, reverse every specification. Permeability to radiation no +objection."</p> + +<p>He chuckled. Demarest would threaten to resign. It violated every +precept he had ever learned. But the engineer would change his mind when +he saw the rest of it.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Marlowe read on: "Top speed need not be high. Emphasis should be placed +on safety. Must be maneuverable by operators whose reactive time is not +fast, but whose judgment and foresight are trustworthy. Stress +simplicity.</p> + +<p>"Memo No. 2: Inaugurate another class of service. In addition to fast +speedy passages when planets are close, a freight system that can +operate continuously is now possible. The planets will open up faster if +a steady supply route can be maintained. Older passengers will be a +mainstay, especially since therapeutic value is sure to be disclosed. +Estimated time to prepare for first run—one year minimum.</p> + +<p>"Memo No. 3: Recruiting. Do not overlook the most unlikely skill. It may +indicate undisclosed ability of high order.</p> + +<p>"Training: Blank. Improvise as you go along!"</p> + +<p>Marlowe got up. He thought he heard planes overhead. If so, he had +something for them. He'd have to argue, but he felt up to it. The sand +had disappeared from his eyes. His step was lighter, too.</p> + +<p>And that was because of another item he hadn't written down. He wouldn't +forget.</p> + +<p>He was in the mid-forties and would have to begin learning. It was the +awkward age—too old—too young. He couldn't hope to pilot the +murderously fast ships currently in use. And he couldn't take his place +in the clumsy tubs that would soon be swinging between the planets, +opening up space to commerce. He would have to wait, but what he learned +now would be useful some day. It would be better integrated for having +been long buried in his memory.</p> + +<p>A vintage aspiration.</p> + +<p>When he was immune to the mutating effects of radiation, old and nearly +sleepless, he could retire from this career—into a better one.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Impossible Voyage Home, by Floyd L. 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Wallace + +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: The Impossible Voyage Home + +Author: Floyd L. Wallace + +Illustrator: Dick Francis + +Release Date: June 13, 2010 [EBook #32805] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IMPOSSIBLE VOYAGE HOME *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + The Impossible Voyage Home + + By F. L. WALLACE + + Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction +August 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the +U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Illustration] + + +[Sidenote: _The right question kept getting the wrong answer--but old +Ethan and Amantha got the right answer by asking the wrong question!_] + + +"Space life expectancy has been increased to twenty-five months and six +days," said Marlowe, the training director. "That's a gain of a full +month." + +_Millions of miles from Earth, Ethan also looked discontentedly proud. +"A mighty healthy-looking boy," he declared._ + +Demarest bent a paperweight ship until it snapped. "It's something. +You're gaining on the heredity block. What's the chief factor?" + +"Anti-radiation clothing. We just can't make them effective enough." + +_Across space, on distant Mars, Amantha reached for the picture. "How +can you tell he ain't sickly? You can't see without glasses."_ + +_Ethan reared up. "Jimmy's boy, ain't he? Our kids were always healthy, +'specially the youngest. Stands to reason their kids will be better."_ + +_"Now you're thinking with your forgettery. They were all sick, one time +or another. It was me who took care of them, though. You always could +find ways of getting out of it." Amantha touched the chair switch._ + +The planets whirled around the Sun. Earth crept ahead of Mars, Venus +gained on Earth. The flow of ships slackened or spurted forth anew, +according to what destination could be reached at the moment: + +"A month helps," said Demarest. "But where does it end? You can't +enclose a man completely, and even if you do, there still is the air he +breathes and food he eats. Radiation in space contaminates everything +the body needs. And part of the radioactivity finds its way to the +reproductive system." + + * * * * * + +Marlowe didn't need to glance at the charts; the curve _was_ beginning +to flatten. Mathematically, it was determinable when it wouldn't rise at +all. According to analysis, Man someday might be able to endure the +radiation encountered in space as long as three years, if exposure times +were spaced at intervals. + +But that was in the future. + +"There's a lot you could do," he told Demarest. "Shield the atomics." + +"Working on it," commented Demarest. "But every ounce we add cuts down +on the payload. The best way is to get the ship from one place to +another faster. It's time in space that hurts. Less exposure time, more +trips before the crew has to retire. It adds up to the same thing." + +_On Mars, Amantha fondled the picture. "Pretty. But it ain't real." She +laid it aside._ + +_Ethan squinted at it. "I could make you think it was. Get it enlarged, +solidified. Have them make it soft, big as a baby. You could hold it in +your lap."_ + +_"Outgrew playthings years ago." Amantha adjusted the chair switch, but +the rocking motion was no comfort._ + +_Ethan turned the picture over, face down. "Nope. Hate to back you up, +'Mantha, but it ain't the same. There's nothing like a baby, wettin' and +squallin' and smilin', stubborn when it oughtn't to be and sweet and +gentle when you don't expect it. Robo-dolls don't fool anybody who's +ever held the real thing."_ + +In the interval, Earth had drawn ahead. The gap between the two planets +was widening. + +"That's another fallacy," objected the training director. "The body can +stand just so much acceleration. We're near the limit. What good are +faster ships?" + +"That's your problem," said Demarest. "Get me tougher crewmen. Young, +afraid of nothing, able to take it." + +It always ended here--younger, tougher, the finest the race +produced--and still not good enough. And after years of training, they +had twenty-five months to function as spacemen. It was a precious thing, +flight time, and each trip was as short as science could make it. +Conjunction was the magic moment for those who went between the planets. + +It was the heredity block that kept Man squeezed, confined to Earth, +Mars and Venus, preventing him from ranging farther. The heredity block +was a racial quantity, the germ plasm, but not just that. Crew and +passengers were protected as much as possible from radiation encountered +in space and that which originated in the ship's drive. The protection +wasn't good enough. Prolonged exposure had the usual effects, +sterilization or the production of deformed mutations. + +Man was the product of evolution on a planet. He didn't step out into +space without payment. + + * * * * * + +The radiation that damaged genes and chromosomes and tinier divisions +also struck nerve cells. Any atom might be hit, blazing, into fission +and decaying into other elements. The process was complicated. The +results were not: the nerve was directly stimulated, producing aural and +visual hallucinations. + +Normally, the hallucination was blanked out. But as the level of body +radioactivity increased, so did the strength of the vision. It dominated +consciousness. The outside world ceased to have meaning. + +The hallucination took only one form, a beautiful woman outside the +ship, unclad and beckoning. + +It was the image of vanished fertility that appeared once the person was +incapable of reproducing _as a human_. + +Why this was so hadn't been determined. Psychologists had investigated +and learned only that it invariably occurred after too great exposure. +There was another thing they learned. No, that had come first. This was +the reason they had investigated. + +In the Solar System, the greatest single source of radiation, including +the hard rays, was the Sun. It was natural that the siren image should +seem stronger in that direction, that it should fade or retreat toward +its origin. No one had ever returned from compulsive pursuit of the +illusionary woman, though in early days radio contact had been made with +ships racing toward the Sun. + +The heredity block was self-enforcing. + +Deviously, the race protected itself, or something higher watched over +it to assure _human_ continuity. Marlowe wasn't sure which, but it was +there. + +"I think you're on the wrong track," he said. "Shield the ship +completely and it won't matter how long the trip takes. The crew can +work in safety." + +Demarest grunted. "Some day we'll have an inertia-free drive and it +won't matter how much mass we use. It does now. Our designs are a +compromise. Both of us have to work with what's possible, not what we +dream of. I'll build my ship; you find the right crew to man it." + +Marlowe went back to his graphs. Machines could be changed, but the +human body clung stubbornly to the old patterns. He couldn't select his +crews any younger--but was there perhaps a racial type more resistant to +radiation? Where? No place that he knew of. Maybe the biologists could +produce one, he thought hopefully, and knew he was fooling himself. +Human beings weren't fruit flies; by the time enough generations rolled +around for the resistant strain to breed true--and leave a surplus to +man the ships--he would be long dead and the problem solved. + +The best of humanity would be dead, too, wiped out by sterilization. + +Or the Solar System would be peopled by mutant monstrosities. + + * * * * * + +Far away, and not concerned with the problem, Ethan shrugged resignedly. +"Guess we'll have to get used to the idea--we just won't see him till he +grows up--if we'll still be around." + +"You've got years and years ahead of you, and not worth a thing the +whole time!" Amantha snapped. + +"Damnation," said Ethan wistfully, "I'd like to dandle him." + +"Won't be the same when he grows up and comes here," Amantha conceded. +"There I go agreein' with you! What's got into me?" + +"Maybe we can get on the next slow ship. They run them once in a while +for people with weak hearts." He considered. "Don't know whether Retired +Citizens' Home will let us go, though." + +"Retired Citizens!" She blew her nose scornfully. "They think we don't +know it's just a home for the aged!" She threw away the tissue. "Think +they'll let us?" + +"It won't be them so much that'll stop us. Our hearts ain't too good and +we haven't got much space time to use. We shouldn't have gone to Venus." + +"We had to see Edith and Ed and their kids and we had to come back to +Mars so we could be near John and Pearl and Ray. Let's not regret what +we've done." She picked at the chair arm. "We've been here a long time, +ain't we?" + +Ethan nodded. + +"Maybe they've forgotten we've only got a month left," she said eagerly. + +"You sure it's a month?" + +"Figure it out. It took longer when we went." + +"Then it's no use. A slow ship is all we'd be allowed to take--and we +wouldn't be allowed because it'd be more than a month." + +"They won't remember every last minute we spent in space." + +"They will, too," he stated. "They've got records." + +"Maybe they lost them." + +"Look, we've got kids and grandchildren here. They come around and see +us. Do we have to go to Earth, 'specially when it'd be against the law?" + +"That's just it," she argued. "We've seen all our other kids' kids. +Ain't we going to see the youngest? How do we know his wife can take +care of a baby? I can't sleep nights, thinking of it." + +"Try catnaps during the day, like I do." + +Amantha touched the button and the automatic chair stopped abruptly. +"Are you going to try to get tickets or aren't you?" + +"I'll think about it. Go ahead and rock." + +"I won't," she said obstinately, "not even if it was the kind of chair +you can rock yourself. I thought I married a man who'd make me happy." + +"I've always done my best. Go ahead and rock." + +"But will you try to get the tickets?" + +Ethan nodded resignedly and felt better when the chair began to swing +back and forth. There was no living with a woman when she didn't have +peace of mind. + + * * * * * + +Amantha lay in bed, listening. Sometimes her hearing was very good, the +way it used to be. Other times, it wasn't worth a thing. The way it came +and went reminded her of when she was young and used to wonder why old +folks couldn't hear. Now she could often lie next to Ethan and not even +notice whether he was snoring. Tonight her hearing was good. + +Footsteps came from the hall, creaky noises of someone trying not to +make a sound. She'd lain awake many nights, hearing him come home. She +knew who it was and for once she didn't mind. The Home for Retired +Citizens had rules. + +Careful, she thought. There's the bad spot where the floor's thin and +bends when you step on it. Then when your foot comes off it, it goes +ploinnnnng. They don't build right any more. Skimping and trying to +save. + +But there wasn't a sound. Ethan avoided it. When she thought of it, she +realized he had a suspicious amount of skill--the skill of practice. + +Ethan was fumbling at the door and she forgot her irritation. She +slipped out of bed and swung the door open. He stumbled in against her. +"'Mantha, they laughed--" + +"Did you have anything to eat?" she broke in. + +"Cup of that Mars coffee. But--" + +"Don't talk till you get something hot inside. Empty belly, empty head." + +"Can't eat stuff that comes out of the wall. I'll wait till breakfast." + +She flicked the light on low and punched the selector. She took the +glow-plate from under the bed and set it on the table. As the food +arrived, she heated it and began adding spices. "There--it ain't real +food, but you can pretend." + +Ethan pretended and, when the food was gone, wiped his lips and looked +at her. + +She nodded. "Now you can tell me--but keep your voice low. Don't wake +anyone up." + +Ethan stretched and creaked. "Went down to the Interplanet office and +they wouldn't talk to me. Said there wasn't any ship leaving for the +next ten months and they didn't sell tickets in advance. I kept +pestering them and they got mad. They looked up our records and said we +couldn't go anytime, except on a fast ship, and, considering our age, it +was doubtful they'd let us. Didn't give up, though, and finally they +said we might get a release from the man who'd take us. Maybe they +wanted to get rid of me. Anyway, they sent me down to talk with one of +the pilots." + + * * * * * + +Amantha approved. Go straight to the man responsible. Persistence could +get you there. + +"He talked real nice for a while," Ethan continued. "He explained he +didn't own the ship and didn't have the say-so who he took. I knew you +wanted to go real bad. I offered him the money we'd saved." + +"_All_ of it, Ethan?" + +"Don't get mad. Figured it was worth it to you." + +"Don't believe in paying extra," she mused, "but did you tell him we +could borrow some if it wasn't enough?" + +"Didn't get a chance. He started laughing, saying didn't I understand he +got paid not just for each trip, but for all the years after that, when +he was finished and had used up his time and couldn't work at the only +thing he knew? Saying that he wouldn't risk that kind of security for +any money and I was an idiot for believing he might." Ethan trembled. + +"Never mind. He's an old fool." + +"He's younger than Jimmy." + +"Some people get wisdom when they're young." + +Ethan sat morosely in the chair. "If Jimmy hadn't made that last trip, +he'd be here and he'd have married a girl here and his kids would be +here. We wouldn't have to worry about them." + +"I guess so, but he was lucky anyway. They found out he wasn't as strong +as he was supposed to be and wouldn't let him come back." She began +clearing the dishes. "How'd they know he couldn't come back?" + +"They got tests. They give them each trip." + +She should have thought of it. They had tests. Because of tests, Jimmy +was safe but distant. She sat down. + +"Tired." Ethan yawned. "Let's go to bed." + +"You go. I'm thinking." + +Amantha went on thinking while he undressed and lay down. Sometimes it +was difficult--things weren't as clear as they used to be. Tonight, +though, she had no trouble managing her mind. A woman who had kids had +to know her way around things. Presently, she said, "Tomorrow I'm going +to bake." + +Ethan stirred. "Won't do no good. Didn't say so, but there was a girl +talking to the pilot when I got there. She was crying and begging him to +take her to Earth next trip. Said she'd do anything if he would." + +"Shame on her!" exclaimed Amantha. "But did it work?" + +"She was young and pretty and still he wouldn't pay attention to her," +said Ethan. "What chance would you have?" + +"I'm going to bake tomorrow. In the morning, we're supposed to go for a +walk. We'll take a big basket. Do you remember the old canal nobody goes +near any more?" + +There was no answer. Ethan was asleep. Now that she'd decided what to +do, she lay down beside him. + + * * * * * + +The sentry huddled in his post. It was insulated and supplied with +oxygen, very much like a spacesuit. Though big for a spacesuit, it was a +small place to spend hours in without relief. But there were +compensations: never anything to do--except as now. He went to the mike. + +"Get back," he shouted. + +They paid no attention. + +Swearing, he shouted again, turning up the volume. Even in the thin air, +he had enough sound to blast them off their feet. But they kept on +going. He poked the snout of his weapon through the porthole and then +withdrew it. Who'd given him those orders anyway? He didn't have to obey +them. He clamped on his oxygen helmet and slipped into electric mitts +and hurried outside. + +[Illustration] + +"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded, standing in front of +them. + +"Hello," said Amantha. "Didn't see anyone around." + +Damn senior citizens--they never used hearing aids. "You've got to turn +around and go back," he said. + +"Why?" + +He was shivering and didn't see how they could stand it. Thin clothing +and obsolete oxygen equipment. Oddly, they could take more than you'd +think, though. Used to it, he supposed. "Come on in," he commanded +gruffly. He wasn't going to freeze. They followed him into the post. +"Didn't you see the signs to keep out?" + +"But the ships aren't using the field. What harm are we doing?" + +"Orders," he said. There were still a few pilots checking over their +ships, making sure everything was in working condition before they were +locked up. In a week, all flight personnel would be gone to the +settlements, there to await the next round of voyages when Earth came +near. They had it soft, while he, the guard, had to stay in cold +discomfort. + +"We're going to visit a friend of my son," said Amantha. "They were +pilots together. Do you object?" + +He didn't, but there were some who would. The order made sense with +respect to little boys who would otherwise swarm over the field, falling +off ships or getting stuck in rocket tubes. + +"What have you got?" he asked, eying Amantha's parcel dubiously. + +"I baked something." She opened a corner of the package and the smell +drifted out. "Made it with Martian fruit. Not much of it around these +days." + +He sniffed and became hungry. That was queer--he'd eaten before coming +on duty. + +"Okay," he said. "You can go. Don't get caught or it's my neck." He +stood closer to the old man and woman, and the package, too, and pointed +out the window. "Act like you're leaving in case anyone's checking up. +When you get near the line of ships, duck behind them and walk along +until you find the right one. No one will see you except me." + +Amantha pinched the package together. "I'd give you some, but I can't +cut it before the pilot sees it." + +"I guess you can't," said the sentry wistfully. "Maybe he won't eat all +of it." + +"May he won't. I'll bring you back what's left--if there _is_ any left." + +Long after they were gone, the sentry stood there, trying to analyze the +indefinable odor. He was still standing there when the checkup squad +marched in and arrested him for gross dereliction of duty. + + * * * * * + +"Go away," said the pilot, disappearing from the viewport. Ethan pounded +on the hull with a rock. The pilot came back, twisting his face. "Stop +it. I'll angle the rocket tubes around and squirt you with them." + +Ethan raised the rock. + +"Okay," said the pilot. "I'll talk to you, though I know what you want." +Sullenly, he made the hatch swing open. He looked down at them. "All +right, let's hear it." + +"Got a present for you," said Ethan. + +"Not allowed to take bribes unless it's money." + +"Young man, where are your manners?" snapped Amantha. + +"Haven't got any. It's the first thing they train out of you." The pilot +started to jerk his head back, saw the rock and decided not to close the +hatch. He glanced at the narrow ladder to the ground. "I'll take your +present. Bring it up." + +He stopped smirking as Amantha hitched up her skirts and, holding the +package in one hand, swung up the ladder. Agile as goats and probably as +sensible, he thought. He took hold of her as she neared the top. + +"Grandma, you're too old to climb around. You'll break every brittle +bone in your body if you fall." + +"Ain't so brittle," said Amantha, making way for Ethan who had followed +her. "My, it's cold!" She began shivering. "Invite us in to get warm." + +"You can't go in. I'm busy. Hey, wait!" The pilot hurried after her into +the control compartment. + +Amantha was looking around when he arrived. "Cozy but kind of bare," she +said. "Why don't you hang up pictures?" + +"Most fabulous pictures you'll ever see are right there." + +Amantha followed his glance. "Nothing but Mars. I can see that every +day." She puzzled over it. "Oh, you're teasing an old woman. I didn't +mean what you see out of the port, stars and planets and such. I'd want +a picture of an Indian settin' on a horse." + +"I'll bet!" muttered the pilot. "Get warm in a hurry. I've got work to +do." + +"You just go ahead," she said. "We'll set here and toast our toes. We +don't aim to interfere." + +"I'll stay," said the pilot hastily. "Let's have the present." He'd made +a tactical error--he should have ignored the noise that went shimmering +through the hull when the old man had pounded with a rock. No, it was +nice to think he could have, but impossible. Patience was one of the +things the aged did have and the young didn't. + +Amantha set the package down. The pilot scrambled ahead of her and got +the navigator's instruments off the desk and into the drawer. + +She opened and displayed the contents. + +"I baked it for you," she said. "It's a cake." + + * * * * * + +He could see what it was. "Hate cake," he said. "Can't eat it." + +"You'll eat this. Canalberry shortcake." + +"Canalberry?" he asked, wrinkling his face. He smelled it and changed +expressions in the middle of a wrinkle. Resolutely, he turned away from +it and saw Ethan clearly, perhaps for the first time. It was the old man +who had tried to bribe him a few days ago. They weren't as innocent as +they seemed. What were they trying to do? + +"Ain't you even going to taste it?" she urged. + +He shuddered suspiciously. It smelled good, though he had told the truth +about hating the stuff. Under other circumstances, he might have nibbled +at a piece for politeness' sake. + +"Can't. Doctor's orders." + +"Diabetic? Didn't think they let them in space-service," said Amantha. +"Funny, it's the same with Ethan. He can't eat sweets, either." She +looked at her creation. "Seems a shame to bring it so far to somebody +who can't touch it. Do you mind if I cut myself a slice?" + +"Go ahead, Grandma." + +"Amantha," she corrected him and brought out a knife and two small +plates. He wondered if there was any significance. _Two_ plates. + +She laid a slice on the plate and poked at it with a fork that was also +in the package. She put the fork down and picked up the cake. + +"It don't taste right unless you eat it the way it was meant to be," she +said. + +He watched her in anguish. His nose quivered and his stomach rumbled. He +shouldn't have let them in. + +A crumb fell to the floor and Amantha reached for it. She straightened +up, a berry in her hand. + +"Canalberries," she said. "They're nearly all gone. Used to be you could +hardly go anywhere without stepping in them." + +She crushed the berry and the rich aroma swept devastatingly through the +air. + +"Sure you won't have some?" she asked, slicing the cake and placing it +in front of him. When he finished that, he cut another, and another, +until the cake was gone. + +The pilot settled logily in a chair and dozed off. Amantha and Ethan +watched him in silence. + +The pilot got up and began to stretch lazily without seeming to notice +them. The laziness disappeared and the stretch changed into a jerk that +seemed to elongate his body. He sprang out of the compartment and went +leaping down the corridor. When he came to the hatch, he didn't +hesitate. The ladder was too slow. He jumped. + +He landed on the sand, sinking in to his knees. He extricated himself +and went bounding over the field. + +"Never saw canalberries take so long," muttered Amantha. "Don't know +what's wrong. Nothing's as good as it used to be." + +She shook off her hat and closed the airlock. + +"You don't need those nose plugs any more, Ethan. Come on, let's see if +you remember." + + * * * * * + +Several hours later, she twirled unfamiliar knobs and, by persistence +and beginner's luck, managed to get the person she wanted. + +"You the commander?" Since he had a harassed look, she assumed he was. +"Thought you might be worried about that poor boy." + +"Madam, what do you want?" He scowled at the offscreen miscreant who had +mistakenly summoned him. "I'm chasing criminals. I haven't got time to +chat about old times." + +"Don't sass me. I thought you might want to know how to stop that poor +boy from running around." + +The commander sat down. "What young man?" he asked calculatingly. + +"Don't know his name," said Amantha. "He ran out of the ship before we +could ask him." + +"So _you're_ the poisoner," said the commander coldly. "If he dies, +neither your age nor your sex will make any difference." + +"Just canalberries," Amantha assured him. "Reckon you wouldn't know +about them." + +"What are you talking about?" + +"Canalberries. Used to be lots of them. Males, men and animals, just +can't help eating them. Don't bother women or any other kind of females. +Biologists used to tell us it was a seed-scattering device. Guess so. +Won't hurt him none. Try bicarb and vinegar. It'll fix him up." + +"For your sake, I hope it will!" said the commander. "He's in a bad +way." He stabbed a pencil at her and his voice became stern. "If you +follow directions, I'm sure I can get you off lightly." + +"Think we will?" said Amantha. + +The commander hurried on. "It's hard to find a ship in space. Stay where +you are or, if you can, turn around and come back--_slowly_. We'll send +a ship up and transfer a competent pilot to bring you down. Do you +hear?" + +"Real plain. You got good radios on these ships." + +He smothered a growl. "Your lives are in danger. We're not going to +chase out and rescue you unless you cooperate." It was an +understatement. If they observed radio silence, search ships would never +find them. They might not think of it, but he wouldn't bet. They were +smart enough to steal the ship. + +There was another thing. From what he'd learned from records, they were +close to the exposure limit. Any moment now, they might go berserk, +turning their course fatally toward the Sun. He had to be careful what +he said. + +"We'll get you out of this, but only if you help. I refuse to sacrifice +men and waste their flight time, which is more precious than any ship, +merely to save two senile incompetents. Is this clear?" + +"I suppose," said Amantha. "We've got to go home." + +The commander rubbed his hands. They weren't as stubborn as he feared. +He'd rescue them. + +"Good. I'll have men aloft in a few minutes." + +"Guess it was you who didn't hear," she said. "Our home is on Earth." + + + + +II + + +"There's no one here," said the robot blocking the door. + +"We'll wait." Amantha tried to go inside. The robot wouldn't move. + +It was dark and windy and, from the steps, they could see lights of +houses glowing around them. Not many--it was near the edge of the little +town. Farther away, over the hill, the ship nestled safely in a valley. +No one had seen them land. They were sure of it. + +Ethan removed his hat and his bent shoulders straightened. He seemed to +grow taller. + +"Rain," he said in awe. "Thirty years and yet I haven't forgotten what +it's like." + +"It's wet, that's what it's like," said Amantha. "Robot, let us in or +I'll have Ethan take a wrench to you. He loves to tinker." + +"I can't be threatened. My sole concern is the welfare of my charge. +Also, I'm too large for any human to hurt me." + +"Damnation, I'm soppin'!" complained Ethan. "It's better to remember the +rain than to be in it." + +"Wait till my son Jimmy gets back. He'll be ravin'. Makin' us stay out +here and get soaked." + +"Son? Is the Jimmy you refer to Pilot James Huntley?" + +"Ex-pilot." + +"Correct. But he's not at home. He took his wife to the hospital half an +hour ago." + +"So soon?" gasped Amantha. "Thought I taught him better than that. Women +have got to rest between kids." + +"It's not another child," said the robot with disinterest. "It has to do +with one of the ills flesh is heir to and machines are not. Nothing +serious." + +Ethan fidgeted, turning up his collar. Water began flowing from the +eaves. "Stop arguin' and let us in. Jimmy will turn off your juice when +he finds you've kept his folks outside." + +"Folks? He has none here. A mother and father living happily on Mars. +They died quite recently, lost in space and plunging into the Sun." + +"Make up your mind," Amantha said peevishly. "We ain't on Mars, we +weren't happy and we didn't get lost and plunge into the Sun." + +"I merely repeat--in sequence--the information I'm given or overhear. If +it's inconsistent, so are humans. I'm used to it." + +"'Mantha, they think we're dead," said Ethan. He wiped a raindrop away. +"Poor Jimmy!" + +A thin wail came from a crack in the door. The robot's eyes shone +briefly, then dimmed. + +"What's that?" asked Amantha. "Sounds like a baby. Thought you said no +one was home." + +"No responsible adult. Only a child. Because of that, I can admit no one +except the parents--or a doctor if I decide one is needed." The robot +whirred and drew itself up. "He's absolutely safe. I'm a Sitta." + +"You sure are. Now get out of my way before I jab you. The kid's +crying." + +"He is, but it's no concern of yours. I'm better acquainted with infant +behavior than any human can be. The pathetic sob merely means that the +child wants attention. I was given no instructions to hold him." + + * * * * * + +Again the child cried. "Who needs to be told?" demanded Amantha. "Nobody +gives grandmothers instructions." + +"He's got a grandfather to cuddle him," added Ethan. "How far do you +think we came to do it?" + +"And he's not cryin' because he wants attention. Something's stickin' +him and he's hungry. Don't you think a grandmother would know?" + +"There's nothing that can stick him, but if, by accident, something +sharp had gotten in his bed and if he were also hungry, he would sound +like this." The Sitta hunched down and swiveled its head, giving an +imitation. "You see? I do nothing but watch babies. It's built into me." + +Inside the house, the child's tone changed, became querulous, listening. +Interrogatively, it offered a single yowl. + +"My analysis was correct. It wanted attention. The parents left so +hurriedly, they forgot to give me permission. When I didn't come to +investigate, the child stop--" + +The wail burst forth with renewed vigor. + +The robot rotated its head and the alert look flashed on and off. It +stuttered, "I know w-what I'm doing. But I--I can tell only what has +happened to my charge, n-never what _will_!" The Sitta rumbled +bewilderedly. "Anticipation is beyond my capacity. The child _is_ hurt +and hungry. Please come in and help me." + +Triumphantly, Amantha followed the robot into the house toward the +nursery. She whispered to Ethan, "Sittas ain't smart. I reckon he never +heard a bunch of babies together. If one cries, they all do." + +The Sitta barred the path. "You seem sincere and are obviously an +expert. But before you go in, understand this--attempt no harm to the +being in there. I'm linked." + +"You'll be unlinked if you don't stop acting balky," warned Amantha. She +ducked under his arm and darted toward the crib. + +"By linked, I mean that if anything happens that I require aid to +handle, an alarm rings in Sittas Circle and help is on the way. +Meanwhile, I can put out fires or carry him unharmed through concrete +walls." + +"Go ahead, run through a wall," invited Amantha abstractly, snatching up +the child. "The darling's wet, too. Fetch me a diaper." + +The robot fetched at her command. And when the child was quiet, even +cooing, but with a sharp undertone of protest, Amantha settled back. +"Now we've got to feed him." + +"They didn't give me special instructions and I can't originate. If you +hadn't come, I'd have had to contact a doctor." + +Amantha handed the child to Ethan. "You hold him." She went into the +kitchen. + +Ethan tossed the child up. "Here we go," he bellowed. "Free fall. Got to +start early to make a spaceman out of you." The Sitta stared at them, +puzzled, as the infant shrieked with fear or joy. "Now if only Jimmy was +here to see us," said Ethan, grinning proudly. + +Jimmy didn't come back soon enough. The police arrived first. + + * * * * * + +Ethan wandered to the window. The ground was far below. He didn't want +to think of what was outside the door. + +"Don't mind jail myself--been in a few." He looked at Amantha. "Just for +raising hell. Never thought I'd be responsible for putting _you_ behind +bars." + +[Illustration] + +"It wasn't you," said Amantha, her back straightening. "Curious about it +myself." Wisps of hair straggled over her face. "I mean why didn't we +think of it on Mars? Didn't we know what they'd do?" + +"I guess we didn't." Ethan cracked his knuckles contemplatively. "Did it +occur to you?" + +"No. I can't understand." She frowned, but it didn't help clarify what +she was thinking about. + +"We're criminals," said Ethan soberly. "Thieves." + +"I don't mind for us. Jail's not much worse than the home for Retired +Citizens. It's our grandson I'm thinking of." + +"Don't worry. They won't do a thing to him." His eyes widened and he +wiped off the sweat. "Oh. I see what you mean." + +"Jailbirds," said Amantha. "We'll still be in here when he grows up. +It's a fine way to help your kin. They'll never trust him with us in his +family." + +"Jailbirds," repeated Ethan mournfully. By some magic, his face cracked +along the wrinkles and broke into a smile. "But once we flew," he +whispered to himself. + +The door opened and an official of some sort came in. Outside, Ethan +caught a brief glimpse of guards. + +Marlowe, chief training director of space pilots for Interplanet +Transport, Inc., walked in silence across the room and eased tiredly +into a chair behind the desk. He'd gotten the news late at night, having +been the first one contacted. The ship that had been lost had showed up +in the atmosphere. There couldn't be a mistake. No other flight was +scheduled for months. + +"Follow it," he had ordered and the trackers had kept it on the screen, +flashing a message to the police as soon as they located where it +landed. It was logical that it should go where it did, but he didn't +think that anything about this flight was susceptible to a rational +approach. + +Marlowe's eyelids felt lined with sand, but that was as nothing compared +to his mental irritation. The two oldsters were dead and the ship was +vaporized in the Sun. But, of course, it wasn't true and he had to +figure out why. + +Others would be here to help him unravel the mystery, from Demarest on +down. Meanwhile, he was first. There was a lesson to learn if he could +figure out what it was. Damn these senile incompetents. + +"Ethan and Amantha Huntley?" he asked. They didn't fit in with his +preconceived picture. + +"You the judge?" said Ethan. "I demand to see a lawyer. We've got our +rights." + +"Why don't you let our son in?" Amantha protested. "I know he's been +dying to see us. You can't keep us locked up like this." + +"Please! I've just come from a consultation with your son. You'll see +him soon. As for being detained, you've been well treated. Most of the +time, doctors have been examining you. Isn't that true?" + +"What's that got to do with it?" challenged Ethan. "Never been sick a +day in my life. Sure, my back hurts, and now and then my knees swell up. +But it's nothing. We didn't ask for a doctor. Got our own on Mars. Young +fellow, fifty or sixty." + + * * * * * + +Facts contradicted each other. They were what Marlowe expected and yet +they weren't. It was hard to determine. Records showed that if the old +couple were not actually senile incompetents, they were close to it. Now +that they'd returned the ship in good condition, legal action against +them would be dangerous. Everyone had grandparents and knew that they +were sometimes foolish. It was a spot to get out of as gracefully as the +company could. + +It was as training director for Interplanet Transport, however, that he +was interested in them. + +"You were in space for nearly four months," he said. "Few people take +that much exposure to radiation at one time. We had to determine the +state of your health. The evaluation isn't complete, but I think we can +say you're in no immediate danger." + +Did they understand? It was doubtful. No one else would have stolen the +ship and attempted to bring it to Earth. But, damn it, they had done so, +landing the ship on the outskirts of the little town, unobserved in the +gathering storm. + +The facts were painfully fresh in his mind. + +"I'd like to know something of your background," said Marlowe. "What's +your experience with spaceships?" + +"Went to Venus in one," Ethan answered. "Also took a trip to Mars. +Stayed there." + +The old man had haunted the control compartment, watching how it was +done. Some people did. But that was not a substitute for experience. + +"That was long ago and you were a passenger. Anything more recent?" + +"Nope. Except for this last trip." + +That was what didn't make sense. + +"Are you sure? Be honest. Check your memory." + +The old man had once piloted jets. But it was not the same. + +"No other experience," said Ethan. "Had training, though." + +Marlowe knew it. Without training, no one could manage takeoff and +landing. Somehow, the official search had failed to uncover this vital +information. "Where did you take it?" + +"Forget the name. Remember every word of it, though." + +Marlowe nodded. It was often the case. Early memories were fresh and +clear while later events blew over the enfeebled mind and left no trace. +"But you didn't tell me where." + +"Don't remember that part of it. It was a mighty good course. Wasn't +accepted, even though I passed, after paying for my lessons in advance. +They said I was too old." + +Air lodged in his throat--Marlowe doubled over. If he'd heard +rightly.... Good God, there were angels and correspondence courses that +watched over the aged! No--give the credit to angels. + +"I realized I wasn't as spry as I used to be," continued Ethan +seriously. "Can't shoot off a planet or slam down on one the way your +pilots do. We were at the far end of the field, quite a ways off. +Everybody was busy with the pilot who was running around. They were +trying to help him. + +"Guess they didn't see us. They'd have laughed if they did. We went up +slow, kind of wobbly. But we got off." + + * * * * * + +The old man was beaming, proud of it. He didn't know it wasn't skill but +the built-in safety factor, all the stabilizing mechanisms coming into +play at once. Demarest, the chief of construction, had seen to it that +the ships were well designed. Marlowe would have to commend him when he +got here. + +A thought occurred to the training director. If the stabilizing +mechanisms were there, why not use them always? Of course, it wasn't +that simple. Interplanetary ship stabilizers weren't effective at high +speed. + +Another thought crowded in. Why such high speed? That was something over +which there was no choice. The protective atmosphere had to be left +swiftly. The speed was added to at every opportunity. It was possible to +slow down only at the last moment. Otherwise.... + +Otherwise what? + +There was no escape from the conclusion--otherwise heredity was altered +and mutations would result. Marlowe sat back. This was true without +exception. It was the biggest factor that controlled the conditions of +interplanetary flight. But-- + +_They'd had their children!_ + +Marlowe's pulse increased. As training director, he'd learned not to +leap at things that merely looked good. He had to examine them +carefully. But--well, it was a new approach, though he couldn't really +expect anything from it. There was more to a crew than a pilot, more to +space flight than one incredible lucky voyage, for angels took +vacations, too. + +"You weren't on duty at all times," Marlowe pointed out. "Then there's +navigation." + +"Don't sleep much," said Ethan. "Catnap once in a while." He thought it +over. "When I did sleep, 'Mantha helped out." He looked at her. "I'm not +the expert on navigation. You'd better ask her." + +"_No!_" cried Marlowe. + +"Why not? Just because I'm a woman?" Her eyes were bright. + +"But who taught you navigation?" + +Amantha sniffed. "Look here, young man, don't tell me what I can learn." +She closed her eyes and imagination carried her back to the ship. "Lots +of dials and gadgets--but I used to have near as many in my kitchen +before they said I was too old to cook. Anyway, you don't have to figure +it out on paper. If you look at things just right, you sort of know +where you are." + + * * * * * + +Amantha folded her hands. "First, you take a big handful of the Sun's +attraction and mix it with a bigger scoop of the gravitation of the +planet you happen to be on. For us, that was Mars. Then you add a pinch +of acceleration. That's what makes you rise. When you get out a ways, +you decrease Mars and add more Earth and another pinch of Sun, stirring +it around in your mind each day until it feels just right." + +She smiled. "I never did hold with too much measuring." + +The muscles in Marlowe's chest felt cramped from holding his breath in. +While she spoke, he could almost believe she knew what she was doing, +that she had a knack for it. Perhaps she did--brief flashes of clarity +swept over her senile, beclouded mind. And the same with the old man. +These instances of sanity--and luck--had pulled them through. + +The ship was back, unharmed. He shouldn't ask for more. And yet--they +had made it to Earth. + +The chute in the desk clattered noisily and ejected a packet. Marlowe +looked at it--it was for him. The full medical report; it had been slow +in coming. But this was a small town. The doctor who had looked them +over was good, though. Marlowe made certain of that. + +He opened the report and read. When he finished, he knew that though +luck and angels had been with them on takeoff and part of the +passage--along with dimly remembered fragments of unrelated skills that +had somehow coalesced into a working knowledge of how to run a ship--it +wasn't the whole story. When they landed on Earth, it was no miracle. +They had known what they were doing. + +"What is it?" asked Ethan. "Habeas corpus?" + +"No," said Marlowe. But in one sense it was, though of a kind that no +mere judge could return a verdict on. He read the report again. + +"No evidence of mental senility," it said in part. "Micro-samples of +brain cells seem to be taken from someone about forty or fifty. Physical +reactions are slow but firm and consistent. There are puzzling aspects. +Certain obscure functions apparently are those of septuagenarians. +Others are in keeping with the mental age. The weakest organs govern, of +course; they should live another thirty years, as if they really were in +their seventies. However, locomotion and judgment should not be impaired +until the very end. Query: Are you sure these are the people I was +supposed to examine? I couldn't find that deep, inoperable, though +non-malignant tumor the man was supposed to have." + +Marlowe folded and refolded the report. Radiation could kill. But it +could also cure. It was a standard treatment. But never so drastic and +not on the aged for this purpose. He had come at once on two monumental +discoveries, both by accident. How many discoveries _were_ accidental? + +These two wouldn't live longer, but they would have a better life and in +full possession of their senses. + +"Sure, we borrowed--stole the ship," said Ethan abruptly, interrupting +Marlowe's thoughts. "You got it back, but that don't change things. +We've got money. We might have enough to pay for most of the fuel." + +"It's not necessary. We'll charge it off as an experiment." Marlowe +tried to frown. Perhaps he succeeded. "In return for not prosecuting, I +want you to abandon your pension and go to work for Interplanet +Transport." + +Ethan's joints creaked as he sat up eagerly. "Work it off? Sounds fair." +There were wrinkles on his face and there never would be any less, but +they weren't as deep as they had been, not when they formed the network +of a smile. "I can sweep out a ship. Maybe you'd even let me go on a +trip once in a while. I could be a cabin boy." + +They had been considered useless and incapable for so long that they +still didn't realize what he was saying. They weren't childish, but they +thought they were. Re-education would have to proceed slowly. + +"I had a trip in mind for you," said Marlowe. "And Amantha will have to +go to work, too." + +"Young man, it's been a long time since I cooked anything but one +canalberry shortcake, but you just watch what I can stir up." + +"I've got just the place for you," Marlowe answered. "One more +stipulation--don't talk about your experiences. If reporters come +around, and I think they will, say merely that we traced the ship and, +after conferring with you, decided to drop all charges. Understand?" + +Amantha nodded. "Look bad for you, wouldn't it? Not guarding the ships +any better than that, I mean." + +He was thankful their minds had merely been resharpened, that they would +never regain their original edge. She was right--it _would_ look bad. +Also, the company had competitors. And by the time _they_ got wind of +it, he wanted to have a head-start. Only a few of the aged would fit in +with his plans, though the rest would benefit, and by more than a change +of status. + +Marlowe nodded. "That's it. Report tomorrow and we'll go over your +assignments." + +"Guess you don't know what we're like," said Ethan. "We've hardly seen +our littlest grandson yet. What do you suppose we stole--experimented +with the ship for?" + +Marlowe watched them go and, as the door closed, began to write +hurriedly. The others would be here soon. He wanted to have it +summarized by the time they arrived. + +Half an hour later, he looked at what he'd put down. It was on the back +of the medical report. + +"Memo: Change the design of our lastest ship. Instead of a heavy-hulled, +superfast rocket, requiring the utmost in bodily coordination and +stamina, reverse every specification. Permeability to radiation no +objection." + +He chuckled. Demarest would threaten to resign. It violated every +precept he had ever learned. But the engineer would change his mind when +he saw the rest of it. + + * * * * * + +Marlowe read on: "Top speed need not be high. Emphasis should be placed +on safety. Must be maneuverable by operators whose reactive time is not +fast, but whose judgment and foresight are trustworthy. Stress +simplicity. + +"Memo No. 2: Inaugurate another class of service. In addition to fast +speedy passages when planets are close, a freight system that can +operate continuously is now possible. The planets will open up faster if +a steady supply route can be maintained. Older passengers will be a +mainstay, especially since therapeutic value is sure to be disclosed. +Estimated time to prepare for first run--one year minimum. + +"Memo No. 3: Recruiting. Do not overlook the most unlikely skill. It may +indicate undisclosed ability of high order. + +"Training: Blank. Improvise as you go along!" + +Marlowe got up. He thought he heard planes overhead. If so, he had +something for them. He'd have to argue, but he felt up to it. The sand +had disappeared from his eyes. His step was lighter, too. + +And that was because of another item he hadn't written down. He wouldn't +forget. + +He was in the mid-forties and would have to begin learning. It was the +awkward age--too old--too young. He couldn't hope to pilot the +murderously fast ships currently in use. And he couldn't take his place +in the clumsy tubs that would soon be swinging between the planets, +opening up space to commerce. He would have to wait, but what he learned +now would be useful some day. It would be better integrated for having +been long buried in his memory. + +A vintage aspiration. + +When he was immune to the mutating effects of radiation, old and nearly +sleepless, he could retire from this career--into a better one. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Impossible Voyage Home, by Floyd L. 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