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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..10b4943 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51125 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51125) diff --git a/old/51125-h.zip b/old/51125-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 83c33a4..0000000 --- a/old/51125-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51125-h/51125-h.htm b/old/51125-h/51125-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 0599e34..0000000 --- a/old/51125-h/51125-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7552 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mars Is My Destination, by Frank Belknap Long. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph3 { text-align: left; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mars is my Destination, by Frank Belknap Long - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Mars is my Destination - -Author: Frank Belknap Long - -Release Date: February 4, 2016 [EBook #51125] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARS IS MY DESTINATION *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="334" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>MARS -IS MY -DESTINATION</h1> - -<p>a science-fiction adventure by<br /> -FRANK BELKNAP LONG</p> - -<p>PYRAMID BOOKS<br /> -NEW YORK</p> - -<p>MARS IS MY DESTINATION</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Pyramid Book</span></p> - -<p>First printing, June 1962</p> - -<p>This book is fiction. No resemblance is intended between any<br /> -character herein and any person, living or dead; any such<br /> -resemblance is purely coincidental.</p> - -<p>Copyright 1962, by Pyramid Publications, Inc.<br /> -All Rights Reserved</p> - -<p>Printed in the United States of America</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Pyramid Books</span> <i>are published by Pyramid Publications, Inc.<br /> -444 Madison Avenue, New York 22, New York, U.S.A.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any<br /> -evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="ph3">MARS</p> - -<p>... Earth's first colony in Space. Men killed for the coveted ticket -that allowed them to go there. And, once there, the killing went on....</p> - - -<p class="ph3">MARS</p> - -<p>... Ralph Graham's goal since boyhood—and he was Mars-bound with -authority that put the whole planet in his pocket—if he could live -long enough to assert it!</p> - - -<p class="ph3">MARS</p> - -<p>... source of incalculable wealth for humanity—and deadly danger for -those who tried to get it!</p> - - -<p class="ph3">MARS</p> - -<p>... in Earth's night sky, a symbol of the god of war—in this tense -novel of the future, a vivid setting for stirring action!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p class="ph2">CONTENTS</p> - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c1">1</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c2">2</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c3">3</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c4">4</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c5">5</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c6">6</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c7">7</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c8">8</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c9">9</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c10">10</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c11">11</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c12">12</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c13">13</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c14">14</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c15">15</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c16">16</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c17">17</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c18">18</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c19">19</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c20">20</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="left"><a href="#c21">21</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c1" id="c1">1</a></h2> - - -<p>I'd known for ten minutes that something terrible was going to happen. -It was in the cards, building to a zero-count climax.</p> - -<p>The spaceport bar was filled with a fresh, washed-clean smell, as if -all the winds of space had been blowing through it. There was an autumn -tang in the air as well, because it was open at both ends, and out -beyond was New Chicago, with its parks and tall buildings, and the big -inland sea that was Lake Michigan.</p> - -<p>It was all right ... if you just let your mind dwell on what was -outside. Men and women with their shoulders held straight and a -new lift to the way they felt and thought, because Earth wasn't a -closed-circuit any more. Kids in the parks pretending they were -spacemen, bundled up in insulated jackets, having the time of their -lives. A blue jay perched on a tree, the leaves turning red and yellow -around it. A nurse in a starched white uniform pushing a perambulator, -her red-gold hair whipped by the wind, a dreamy look in her eyes.</p> - -<p>Nothing could spoil any part of that. It was there to stay and I -breathed in deeply a couple of times, refusing to remember that in -the turbulent, round-the-clock world of the spaceports, Death was an -inveterate barhopper.</p> - -<p>Then I did remember, because I had to. You can't bury your head in the -sand to shut out ugliness for long, unless you're ostrich-minded and -are willing to let your integrity go down the drain.</p> - -<p>I didn't know what time it was and I didn't much care. I only knew that -Death had come in late in the afternoon, and was hovering in stony -silence at the far end of the bar.</p> - -<p>He was there, all right, even if he had the same refractive index as -the air around him and you could see right through him. The sixth-sense -kind of awareness that everyone experiences at times—call it a -premonition, if you wish—had started an alarm bell ringing in my mind.</p> - -<p>It was still ringing when I raised my eyes, and knew for sure that all -the furies that ever were had picked that particular time and place to -hold open house.</p> - -<p>I saw it begin to happen.</p> - -<p>It began so suddenly it had the impact of a big, hard-knuckled fist -crashing down on the spaceport bar, startling everyone, jolting even -the solitary drinkers out of their private nightmares.</p> - -<p>Actually the violence hadn't quite reached that stage. But it was a -safe bet that it would in another ten or twelve seconds. And when it -did there was no chain or big double lock on Earth that could keep it -from terminating in bloodshed.</p> - -<p>The tipoff was the way it started, as if a fuse had been lit that would -blow the place apart. Just two voices for an instant, raised in anger, -one ringing out like a pistol shot. But I knew that something was -dangerously wrong the instant I caught sight of the two men who were -doing the arguing.</p> - -<p>The one whose voice had made every glass on the long bar vibrate like a -tuning fork was a blond giant, six-foot-four at least and built massive -around the shoulders. His shirt was open at the throat and his chest -was sweat-sheened and he had the kind of outsized ruggedness that made -you feel it would have taken a heavy rock-crushing machine a full half -hour to flatten him out.</p> - -<p>The other was of average height and only looked small by contrast. -He was more than holding his own, however, standing up to the Viking -character defiantly. His weather-beaten face was as tight as a -drum, and his hair was standing straight up, as though a charge of -high-voltage electricity had passed right through him.</p> - -<p>He just happened to have unusually bristly hair, I guess. But it gave -him a very weird look indeed.</p> - -<p>I don't know why someone picked that critical moment to shout a -warning, because everyone could see it was the kind of argument that -couldn't be stopped by anything short of strong-armed intervention. -Advice at that point could be just as dangerous as pouring kerosene on -the fuse, to make it burn faster.</p> - -<p>But someone did yell out, at the top of his lungs. "Pipe down, you two! -What do you think this is, a debating society?"</p> - -<p>It could have turned into that, all right, the deadliest kind of -debating society, with the stoned contingent taking sides for no sane -reason. It could have started off as a free-for-all and ended with five -or six of the heaviest drinkers lying prone, with bashed-in skulls.</p> - -<p>The barkeep made a makeshift megaphone of his two hands and added -to the confusion by shouting: "Get back in line or I'll have you run -right out of here. I'll show you just how tough I can get. Every time -something like this happens I get blamed for it. I'm goddam sick of -being in the middle."</p> - -<p>"That's telling them, John! Need any help?"</p> - -<p>"No, stay where you are. I can handle it."</p> - -<p>I didn't think he could, not even if he was split down the middle into -two men twice his size. I didn't think anyone could, because by this -time I'd had a chance to take a long, steady, camera-eye look at the -expression on the Viking character's face.</p> - -<p>I'd seen that expression before and I knew what it meant. The Viking -character was having a virulent sour grapes reaction to something -Average Size had said. It had really taken hold, like a smallpox -vaccination that's much too strong, and his inner torment had become -just agonizing enough to send him into a towering rage.</p> - -<p>Average Size had probably been boasting, telling everyone how lucky he -was to be on the passenger list of the next Mars-bound rocket. And in -a crowded spaceport bar, where Martian Colonization Board clearances -are at a terrific premium, you don't indulge in that kind of talk. Not -unless you have a suicide complex and are dead set on leaving the earth -without traveling out into space at all.</p> - -<p>Now things were coming to a head so fast there was no time to cheat -Death of his cue. He was starting to come right out into the open, -scythe swinging, punctual to the dot. I was sure of it the instant I -saw the gun gleaming in the Viking character's hand and the smaller man -recoiling from him, his eyes fastened on the weapon in stark terror.</p> - -<p><i>Oh, you fool!</i> I thought. <i>Why did you provoke him? You should have -expected this, you should have known. What good is a Mars clearance if -you end up with a bullet in your spine?</i></p> - -<p>For some strange reason the Viking character seemed in no hurry to -blast. He seemed to be savoring the look of terror in Average Size's -eyes, letting his fury diminish by just a little, as if by allowing a -tenth of it to escape through a steam-spigot safety valve he could make -more sure of his aim. It made me wonder if I couldn't still get to them -in time.</p> - -<p>The instant I realized there was still a chance I knew I'd have to try. -I was in good physical trim and no man is an island when the sands are -running out. I didn't want to die, but neither did Average Size and -there are obligations you can't sidestep if you want to go on living -with yourself.</p> - -<p>I moved out from where I was standing and headed straight for the -Viking character, keeping parallel with the long bar. I can't recall -ever having moved more rapidly, and I was well past the barkeep—he was -blinking and standing motionless, as white as a sheet now—when the -Viking character's voice rang out for the second time.</p> - -<p>"You think you're better than the rest of us, don't you? Sure you do. -Why deny it? Who are you, who is anybody, to come in here and strut and -put on airs? I'm going to let you have it, right now!"</p> - -<p>The blast came then, sudden, deafening. They were standing so close to -each other I thought for a minute the gun had misfired, for Average -Size didn't stiffen or sag or change his position in any way and his -face was hidden by smoke from the blast.</p> - -<p>I should have known better, for it was a big gun with a heavy charge, -and when a man is half blown apart his body can become galvanized for -an instant, just as if he hasn't been hit at all. Sometimes he'll be -lifted up and hurled back twenty feet and sometimes he'll just stand -rigid, with the life going out of him in a rush, an instant before his -knees give way and there's a terrible, welling redness to make you -realize how mistaken you were about the shot going wild.</p> - -<p>The smoke thinned out fast enough, eddying away from him in little -spirals. But one quick look at him sinking down, passing into eternity -with his head lolling, was all I had time for. Pandemonium was breaking -loose all around me, and my only thought was to make a mad dog killer -pay for what he had done before someone got between us.</p> - -<p>Mad dog killers enrage me beyond all reason. Given enough provocation -almost any man can go berserk and commit murder. But the Viking -character had let a provocation that merited no more than a rebuke rip -his self-control to shreds.</p> - -<p>The naked brutality of it sickened me. Something primitive and very -dangerous—or perhaps it was something super-civilized—made me out to -beat him into insensibility before he could kill again. I felt like a -man confronting a poisonous snake, who knows he must stamp on it or -blast off its head before it can sink its fangs in his flesh.</p> - -<p>I was not alone in feeling that way. All around me there was an angry -muttering, a cursing and a shouting. If I needed support, sturdy -backing, I had it. But right at that moment I didn't need it. An -angry giant had come to life inside of me and we exchanged nods and -understood each other.</p> - -<p>There was a crash behind me, but I ignored it. What was harder to -ignore was the barkeep straddling the bar and coming down flatfooted in -the wake of two reeling drunks who were lunging for the killer with a -crazy, wild look in their eyes. I didn't want them to get to him ahead -of me.</p> - -<p>He hadn't moved at all and had a frightened look on his face, as if the -blast had jolted some sanity back into him and made him realize that -you can't gun a man down in a crowded bar without adjusting a noose to -your own throat and giving fifty men a chance to draw it tight.</p> - -<p>The gun he'd killed with might still have saved him, if he'd swung -about and started shooting up the bar. But I didn't give him a chance -to recover.</p> - -<p>I ploughed into him, wrenched the gun from him and sent him reeling -back against the bar with a solidly delivered blow to the jaw, luckily -aimed just right.</p> - -<p>Then they were on him, five or six of them, and I couldn't see him for -a moment.</p> - -<p>I held the gun tightly and looked at it. It was still warm and just the -feel of it sent a shiver up my spine. A gun that has just been wrenched -from the hand of a killer is unlike any other weapon. There's blood on -it, even if no laboratory test can bring it out.</p> - -<p>I didn't know I'd lost anything until I looked down and saw my -wallet lying on the floor at my feet. The energy I'd put into the -blow had not only sent a stab of pain up my wrist to my elbow. It -had jarred something loose from my inner breast pocket that had a -danger-potential, right at that moment, that could have turned the tide -of rage that was sweeping the bar away from the killer and straight in -my direction. Some of it anyway, splitting it down the middle, causing -the drunks who were divided in their minds about what he had done to -change sides abruptly.</p> - -<p>In my wallet was a perforated card, all stippled with tiny dots down -one side, and it said that I was on the passenger list of the next -Mars-bound rocket, and that the Martian Colonization Board clearance -was of a peculiar kind ... very special.</p> - -<p>The wallet had fallen open and the card was in plain view for anyone -to read. It could be recognized by its color alone—a light shade of -blue—and if anyone who felt the way the killer had done about Average -Size had caught sight of it and made a grab for the wallet—</p> - -<p>I was bending to pick it up when a voice whispered close to my ear. -"Don't let anyone see that card—if you want to stay in one piece. -You'd better get out of here before they start asking questions. They -won't wait for the Spaceport Police to get here. Too many of them -will be in trouble if they don't find out fast where everyone stands. -They'll know how to go about it."</p> - -<p>I couldn't believe it for a minute, because I hadn't seen her come in. -I'd noticed two women at the bar, but not this one—it would have been -impossible for me to have failed to notice so slim a waist or hips so -enchantingly rounded, or the honey-blonde hair piled high, or the wide, -dark-lashed eyes that were staring at me out of a face that would have -made a good many men with their lives at stake forget the meaning of -danger.</p> - -<p>Even if she'd been wedged in tightly between two male escorts at the -bar, I'd have noticed a part of all that. Just one glimpse of the -back of her head, with the indefinable, special quality that makes -beauty like that perceptible at a glance, so that you know what the -whole woman will look like when she turns, would have made so deep -an impression on me that not even the violence I'd participated in a -moment afterwards could have blotted it from my mind.</p> - -<p>It left me speechless for an instant. I just snatched up the wallet, -put it safely back in my pocket and returned her stare in complete -silence.</p> - -<p>"Better keep the gun," she advised. "Your fingerprints are all over it -now. You could clear yourself all right, considering who you are. But -it would be much simpler just to toss it into Lake Michigan, especially -if they decide to let him go and lie about who did the killing."</p> - -<p>I could have wiped the gun clean and tossed it on the floor, but I knew -what was in her mind. You just don't leave a murder weapon lying around -in plain view when you've picked it up right after a killing. It can -lead to all kinds of complications.</p> - -<p>I nodded and stood up. "Thanks for the advice," I said, finding my -voice at last. "There are enough eye-witnesses here to convict him -without this, if just a few of them have a conscience."</p> - -<p>"Don't count on it," she said. "They're angry enough to kill him right -now, because they don't like to see anyone gunned down like that. But -when they've had time to think it over—"</p> - -<p>She was right, of course. There were six or seven men struggling with -the killer now but there were others who weren't. A fight had started -near the middle of the bar and someone was shouting: "The ugly son -deserved what he got! Every man who gets a Mars clearance now has to -play along with the Colonization Board! He has to turn informer and -help them set a trap for anyone who gets in their way. Just depriving -us of our rights doesn't satisfy them. They're scheming to get the -whole Mars Colony for themselves."</p> - -<p>It was the Big Lie—the charge that had done more damage to the Mars -Colony than the shortages of food and desperately needed construction -materials, and almost as much damage as the two major power conflicts -and the transportation difficulties that never seemed to get solved.</p> - -<p>I wanted to go right up to him and grab hold of him and hit him as hard -as I'd hit the Viking character, because he was a killer too—a killer -of the dream.</p> - -<p>But the blonde who seemed to know all the answers and what was wise -and sane and sensible was tugging at my arm and I couldn't ignore the -urgency in her voice.</p> - -<p>"Time's running out on you, Mr. Important Man. If they find out just -who you are, you won't have a chance of getting out of here alive. -Every one of them will be clamoring for your blood. The pity of it, the -terrible pity, is that most of them hate violence as much as you do. -They hate what that wild beast just did. But the Big Lie has made them -hate the Colonization Board even more. Do we go?"</p> - -<p>It came as a surprise that she was leaving with me, and that was -downright idiotic, in a way. With the place in an uproar, a killer -still trying to break loose and a fight under way it would have been -madness for her to stay, and the two other women had vanished without -stopping to talk to anyone. But in moments of stress you can overlook -the obvious and wonder about it afterward.</p> - -<p>We had to move fast and we ran into trouble when two struggling drunks -got in our way. I shouldered one aside and rammed an elbow into the -stomach of the other and we reached the street without being stopped by -anyone who didn't want us to leave. The card was back in my pocket and -not a single one of them had X-ray eyes.</p> - -<p>In another minute or two someone would have probably remembered that -I'd disarmed the Viking character and could have had a reason for the -fast violent way I'd gone about it. Then I'd have been in for the kind -of questioning the blonde had mentioned—a kangaroo court interrogation -before the Spaceport Police could get there. And if my answers had -failed to satisfy them they would have wasted no time in turning my -pockets inside out.</p> - -<p>I'd been spared all that, thanks to that same blonde. And—I didn't -even know her name!</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c2" id="c2">2</a></h2> - - -<p>We'd been talking for twenty minutes and I still didn't know her -name. She wasn't being secretive or coy or holding out on me -because she didn't trust me as much as I trusted her. I just hadn't -gotten around to asking her, because we were both still talking -about what had happened at the bar and it was so closely tied in -with what was happening in New York and London and Paris and every -big city on Earth—and on Mars as well—that it dwarfed our puny -selves—extra-special as the blonde's puny self happened to be from the -male point of view.</p> - -<p>I didn't know whether she was Helen or Barbara, Anne or Ruth or -Tanya. I just knew that she was beautiful and that we were sipping -Martinis and looking out through a wide picture window at New Chicago's -lakeshore parklands enveloped in a twilight glow.</p> - -<p>The restaurant was called the Blue Mandarin and it conformed in all -respects to the picture that name conjures up—a diaphanous blue, -oriental-ornate eating establishment with nothing to offer its patrons -that was new, original, exciting, unique.</p> - -<p>But there it was and there it would remain—until Lake Michigan -froze solid. For the moment its artificial decor wasn't important to -either of us. Only the Big Lie and what it was doing to the Martian -Colonization Project.</p> - -<p>"My father was one of the first," she said. "Do you know what it means, -to stand in an empty, desolate waste, forty million miles from home, -and realize you're one of the chosen few—that a city will some day -grow from the seeds you've planted and nourished with your life blood?"</p> - -<p>"I think I do," I said. "I hope I do."</p> - -<p>"He died," she said, "when he was thirty years old, from a Martian -virus they hadn't discovered how to combat until two-thirds of the -first two thousand colonists succumbed to it."</p> - -<p>"Why didn't he take you with him?" I asked. "There were no passenger -restrictions then. The Colonization Board had great difficulty in -finding enough volunteers."</p> - -<p>"My mother refused to go," she said. "I'm afraid ... most women are -more conservative than men. Father died alone, and five years later -Mother married a man who didn't want to be one of the first ten -thousand—or the first sixty thousand. He had no problem. He wasn't -like the men we saw tonight."</p> - -<p>"If every man and woman on Earth wanted to go to Mars," I said, "the -Colonization Board would have no problem. A demand on so colossal a -scale could not be met—in a century and a half. And laws would be -passed to prevent the scheming that's taking place everywhere, the -hatred and the violence. The Big Lie would not be believed."</p> - -<p>"I know," she said. "It's when only twenty thousand can go and five -million want to go that you have a problem. A little hope filters -through, and the five million become envious and enraged."</p> - -<p>I looked at her. I was feeling the glow now, the warmth creeping -through the cells of my brain, the recklessness that alcohol can -generate in a man with a worry that looms as big as the Big Lie, to -the part of himself that isn't dedicated to combating the Lie. The -ego-centered, demandingly human part, the woman-needing part, the old -Adam that's in all of us.</p> - -<p>And suddenly I found myself thinking of Paris in the Spring, and the -sparkling Burgundies of France and vineyards in the dawn and what it -had meant to have a woman always at my side—or almost always—and in -my bed as well.</p> - -<p>New York, flag-draped for Autumn, London in a swirling fog, the old -houses, the dreaming spires, anywhere on the round green Earth where -there was laughter and music and a woman to share it with....</p> - -<p>All that had been mine for ten years. But now, like a fool, I wanted -Mars as well. Mars was in my blood and I could no longer rest content -with what I had.</p> - -<p>Take it with me to Mars? And why not? It was no problem ... when you -didn't have my problem. A quite simple problem, really. The woman I'd -married wouldn't go with me to Mars.</p> - -<p>She seemed to sense that I was having some kind of inward struggle, -and was feeling a decided glow at the same time, for she reached out -suddenly and took firm hold of my hand.</p> - -<p>"Something's troubling you," she said. "Why don't you tell me about it -while you're feeling mellow. Considering the kind of world we're living -in, mellow is the best way to feel. It wears off quickly enough and -next day you pay for it. But while it lasts, I believe in making the -most of it. Don't you?"</p> - -<p>Should I tell her, dared I? I might have to pay for it with a -vengeance, for she'd probably think me quite mad. And I still had some -old-fashioned ideas about loyalty and happened to be in love with my -wife.</p> - -<p>It was crazy, it made no sense, but that's the way it was.</p> - -<p>I looked at the woman sitting opposite me and wondered how a man could -be in love with one woman and find another so attractive that he'd been -on the verge of coming right out and asking her if she'd go with him to -Mars.</p> - -<p>I looked at her blonde hair piled up high, and her pale beautiful face -and wondered how it would be if I hadn't been married to Joan at all.</p> - -<p>I shut my eyes for a moment, thinking back, remembering the quarrel I'd -had with my wife that morning, the quarrel I'd tried my best to forget -over four straight whiskies at the spaceport bar late in the afternoon.</p> - -<p>It was almost as if it was taking place again, right there at the -table, with another woman sitting opposite me who could not hear Joan's -angry voice at all.</p> - -<p>"I mean every word I'm saying, Ralph Graham. You either tell them -you're staying right here in New Chicago or I'm divorcing you. I won't -go to Mars with you—tomorrow or next year or five years from now. Is -that plain?"</p> - -<p>It was plain enough. To cushion the shock of it, and ease the pain -a little I stared into the fireplace, seeing for an instant in the -high-leaping flames a red desert landscape and a city that towered to -the brittle stars ... white, resplendent, swimming in a light that -never was on sea or land.</p> - -<p>All right, the first Earth colony on Mars wasn't that kind of a city. -It was rugged and sprawling and rowdy. It was filled with tumult and -shouting, its prefabricated metal dwellings scoured and pitted by the -harsh desert winds. But I liked it better that way.</p> - -<p>I wanted to walk its crooked streets, to rejoice with its builders and -creators, to be one of the first sixty thousand. With my mind and heart -and blood and guts I wanted to be there before the cautious, solemn, -over-serious people ruined it for the kind of man I was.</p> - -<p>"I mean it, Ralph," Joan said. "If you go—you'll go alone. All of my -friends are here, all of my roots. I won't tear myself up by the roots -even for you. Much as I love you, I just won't."</p> - -<p>It was five in the morning, and we'd been arguing half the night. In -two more hours daylight would come flooding into the apartment again, -and I'd probably have the worst talk-marathon hangover of my life.</p> - -<p>I suddenly decided to go out into the cool dawn without saying another -word to her, slamming the door after me to make sure she'd realize just -how angry she'd made me.</p> - -<p>I wouldn't even switch on the five A.M. news telecast or stop to take -in the cat on my way out. Women and cats had a great deal in common, I -told myself bitterly. They were arbitrary and stubborn and mysteriously -intent on having their own way and keeping you guessing as to their -real motives.</p> - -<p>By heaven ... if I had to go alone to Mars I'd go.</p> - -<p>So I'd really hung one on, had gone out and made a round of the -lakeside bars. All morning until noon and then I'd sobered up over -coffee and a sandwich and started out again early in the afternoon. It -just goes to show what a quarrel like that can do to a man's nerves and -peace of mind and all of his plans for the future, for I'm not even a -moderately heavy drinker.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Early morning bar traveling is barbarous, a lunatic-fringe pastime, and -it was the first time in my life I'd resorted to it. But resort to it -I did, and as the day wore on I gravitated from the lakeside taverns -toward the spaceport in slow stages, and twice in five hours reached -the stage where I couldn't have passed the straight-line test. If I -hadn't sobered up a little at noon I'd have reached the big, dangerous -bar as high as a man can get without falling flat on his face.</p> - -<p>The Colonization Board hadn't even tried to stop what goes on there -around the clock, because there are explosive tensions and hard to -uncover areas of criminality in a city as big as New Chicago it's -wise to provide a safety valve for—when Mars fever is running so -high practically all of us are living in the shadow of a totally -unpredictable kind of violence.</p> - -<p>If anyone had asked me toward the middle of the afternoon what was -drawing me, despite all of my better instincts, in the direction of -death and violence I'd have come right out and told him.</p> - -<p>I had Mars fever too. I hated the Big Lie and all of its ramifications, -knew that every charge that was being hurled at the Colonization Board -was untrue. But I knew exactly how all of the tormented, desperate -men felt, the ones who fought the Big Lie and still had the fever and -needed to be cradled in strangeness and vastness—needed space and a -new frontier to keep from feeling strapped down, walled in, prisoners -in a completely new kind of torture chamber.</p> - -<p>The restlessness was growing because Man had lived too long in a -closed-circuit that had almost destroyed him. The great barrier that -was no longer there had brought the world to the brink of a universal -holocaust, and just knowing that it had been shattered forever was -enabling men and women everywhere to lead healthier lives, set their -goals higher.</p> - -<p>There was nothing wrong with that. Only—not one man or woman in -fifty thousand would see with their own eyes the rust-red plains of -Mars, and the play of light and shadow on a world covered over much of -its surface with wide zones of abundant vegetation. Not one in fifty -thousand would have a new world to rejoice in, after the long journey -through interplanetary space. A world laden with springtime scents, in -the wake of the crash and thunder of the polar ice caps dissolving.</p> - -<p>Or possibly snow piled high on a sleeping landscape, with a thaw just -starting, and the prints of small furry creatures on the white blanket -of snow, for the first colonists had taken animals with them.</p> - -<p>It would take another thirty years for newer, swifter rockets to be -built and the supply problem to be brought under control and the colony -to outgrow its birth pangs and its tumultuous adolescence and become a -white and towering city, as huge as New Chicago.</p> - -<p>And there were some who could not wait, for whom waiting was -destructive to body and mind, a kind of living death too terrible to be -sanely endured.</p> - -<p>The fingers of the woman sitting opposite me were becoming restive, -tightening a little on my hand. It seemed incredible to me that I could -have gone off on that kind of thinking-back tangent when I was so close -to paradise.</p> - -<p>For paradise was there, seated directly across the table from me, -in that crazy twilight hour, if I'd had the courage to seize it -boldly—and if I hadn't been still in love with Joan.</p> - -<p>I could still make a stab at finding out for sure, I told myself, if -I brushed aside all obstacles, if I refused to let my mind dwell on -how I'd feel if something happened to Joan and I lost her forever. How -could she have been so stubborn and foolish, when she was sophisticated -enough to know that no man is insulated against temptation when he is -lonely and despairing and paradise can be his for the taking, if he can -kill just one part of himself and let the rest survive.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" she asked. "You haven't said a word for five minutes. -I'm a good listener, you know. I always have been—perhaps too good a -listener."</p> - -<p>It was the moment of truth, when I had to decide. Mars—and a woman -too. Mars—and the big, important job, and the clatter and bright -wonder of tremendous machines, with swiftly moving parts, whirring, -blurring, dust and the stars of morning, and a woman like that in my -arms.</p> - -<p>I had to decide.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" she asked. "Can't you tell me?"</p> - -<p>"Someday I'll tell you," I said. "But not now. I've a feeling we'll -meet again. Where and how and when I don't know, because by this time -tomorrow I'll be on my way to Mars."</p> - -<p>A pained look came into her eyes and she quickly released my hand.</p> - -<p>"But we've just started to get acquainted," she protested. "You know -nothing about me—or hardly anything. I thought—"</p> - -<p>"It might be best not to know," I said, and I think she must have -realized then just how it was, must have read the truth in my eyes, for -a faint flush suffused her face and she said quickly: "All right. If -that's the way it must be."</p> - -<p>I nodded and beckoned to the waiter, hoping she wouldn't suspect how -vulnerable I still was, how dangerously easy it would have been for me -to alter my decision.</p> - -<p>Ten minutes later I was alone again, with Lake Michigan glimmering at -my back, and only the stars for company. And I still didn't know her -name.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c3" id="c3">3</a></h2> - - -<p>It happened so suddenly it would have taken me completely by surprise, -if the alarm bell hadn't started ringing again in some shadowy corner -of my mind. It wasn't clamorous this time, but it was loud enough to -make me straighten in alarm, with every nerve alert.</p> - -<p>I was standing by a high wall of foliage, close to the lakeside and -had just started to light a cigarette. All at once, directly overhead, -there was a rustling sound that was hard to mistake, for I'd heard it -many times before, and it had a peculiar quality which set it apart -from all other sounds.</p> - -<p>Something was moving through the shadows above me, rustling dry leaves, -slithering down toward me with a dull, mechanical buzzing.</p> - -<p>The buzzing stopped abruptly and there was a flash of brightness, -a long-drawn whining sound. I braced myself, letting my arms swing -loosely at my side.</p> - -<p>With startling swiftness something long, glistening and snakelike -descended upon me and wrapped itself around my right leg just above the -knee. Before I could shake it loose it contracted into a tight knot and -the whining turned into a shrill scream, prolonged, ghastly. It was -quite unlike the scream of an animal. There was something metallic, -rasping about it, as if more than animal ferocity was giving voice to -its pent-up rage in a shrill mechanical monotone.</p> - -<p>The constriction increased and an agonizing stab of pain lanced up -my thigh. I raised my right arm and brought the edge of my hand down -with an abrupt, chopping motion. I chopped downward three times, not -at random, but with a calculated, deadly precision, for I knew that a -misdirected blow could have cost me my life.</p> - -<p>I was in danger only for an instant, and not a very long instant at -that. The damage I'd done to it caused it to release its grip on my -leg, shudder convulsively and drop to the ground.</p> - -<p>Damaged where it was most vulnerable, it writhed along the ground with -groping, disjointed movements of its entire body. Tiny fragments of -shattered crystal glistened in its wake, and two long wires dangled -from its cone-shaped head.</p> - -<p>Its segmented body-case glowed with a blood-red sheen as it writhed -across a flat gray stone on the edge of the lakeshore embankment, and -reared up for an instant like an enormous, sightlessly groping worm. -Then, abruptly, all the animation went out of it, and it flattened out -and lay still. Both of the optical disks which had enabled it to move -swiftly through the darkness had been smashed. I was no longer in any -danger and it was very pleasant just to know that.</p> - -<p>Very pleasant indeed.</p> - -<p>An attempt had been made on my life. There could be no blinking -the fact. That little mechanical horror, with its complex interior -mechanisms, had been set upon me from a distance with all of its -electronic circuits clicking by remote control.</p> - -<p>From just how great a distance I had no way of knowing. But I didn't -think he'd be staying around, near enough for me to get my hands on -him. Killers who made use of such gadgets usually kept their distance, -and were very cautious.</p> - -<p>But at least I knew now that I had a dangerous enemy, someone who -wanted me dead. And there was nothing pleasant about that.</p> - -<p>The human mind is a very strange instrument and it's hard to predict -just how profoundly you'll be upset by an occurrence that's difficult -to dismiss with a shrug.</p> - -<p>You can either turn morbid and brood about it, or rise superior to it -and pigeon-hole it, at least for the moment. By a kind of miracle I was -able to pigeon-hole it, to keep it from standing in the way of what -I'd made up my mind to do before I'd heard the rustling in the foliage -directly overhead.</p> - -<p>I walked back and forth for a moment, resting most of my weight on my -right leg, to make sure I could keep using it without limping and when -I was satisfied a long walk wouldn't be in the least painful I left the -embankment with a feeling of relief and took the first turn on my left. -I was pretty sure it would take me no more than twenty minutes to get -back to the spaceport.</p> - -<p>I knew that what I'd made up my mind to do wasn't going to be easy. -I had to find out exactly how important a job the Colonization Board -had mapped out for me on Mars. She'd called me "Mr. Important Man" -because—you don't get a clearance stamped the way mine was unless -there's a big undertaking in store for you which has to be handled -in just the right way. The walk gave me a chance to think about it. -My leg didn't trouble me at all and I was very grateful for that.... -I stood for a moment just outside the spaceport's railed-off, -electronically-protected launching platforms, staring up at the -three-hundred-foot passenger rockets gleaming with a dull metallic -luster in the moonlight, their nose-cones pointing skyward.</p> - -<p>The New Chicago Spaceport has and always will attract sightseers, -because there's no other rocket launching site on Earth that can -compare with it. It's not only the largest and the most elaborately -equipped. It was built to last. Fifty years from now, in 2070, say, it -was a safe bet the big Mars rockets would be taking off at four-hour -intervals night and day. Now they took off only twice a month and there -were fifty million people in the United States alone who would have -given up comfort, leisure, a well-paying job and every joy they'd ever -experienced or could hope to experience on Earth to be on one of those -big sky ships.</p> - -<p>As far back as I can remember I'd hated to force a showdown with people -who trusted me and believed in me. And that went double for the Martian -Colonization Board, whose members were doing everything possible to -keep me informed. Secrecy sometimes has to be imposed, and if you -try to crack an information clamp-down prematurely you deserve to be -slapped down.</p> - -<p>But now I had no choice. I had to find out if my trip could be -postponed, if I could wait one more week—a month, even—to get Joan to -see things my way. And that meant I had to find out just how big a job -they had lined up for me.</p> - -<p>I had no trouble getting in to see him. There was a guard at the main -entrance of the Administration Building, and when I identified myself -and the massive, double-doors swung inward I had to go through it a -second time, and six more times in all before I reached his private -office on the twentieth floor. But you couldn't call it trouble, -because all I had to do was take out my wallet and display the pale -blue card that was only an incitement to violence in certain quarters.</p> - -<p>In that massive, almost half-mile-long building, on every floor, there -were guards who knew me and guards who had never set eyes on me before. -But what that card stood for was treated with respect.</p> - -<p>I'd known that building to hum with activity, to come to life with a -roar. But now only one floor blazed with light and the rest of the -building was as silent as a mausoleum.</p> - -<p>It happens sometimes and when it does everyone is grateful—including -the man I'd come to visit.</p> - -<p>His private office was at the end of a long corridor in Section C 10 -Y, and I knew I'd find him there, because a small circle of cold light -had been glowing above the office listing board on the main floor. -There was a name plate above the numbered listings—BROWN. His name -wasn't Brown, of course. Or Smith, or Jones. The "Brown" was just a -safety precaution—the sign and seal of immense power being modest in a -genuine way and for expediency's sake as well.</p> - -<p>No man without the kind of card I carried had ever gotten as far as -that office listing board and I doubt if the most ingenious assassin -would have cared to try. But it was just as well to be on the -completely safe side.</p> - -<p>A saluting guard stepped back and what was perhaps the narrowest, least -impressive door in the entire building opened and closed and I found -myself in his presence.</p> - -<p>Unless you're a Gobi desert dweller or live in the precise middle of -the Sahara you've seen the blue-eyed, mild-mannered little man who was -Jonathan Trilling on a hundred lighted screens. In all respects but one -he is the kind of man most people would go right past on the street -without a second glance.</p> - -<p>The thing that made him really not like that at all was something you -couldn't pin down and analyze. If you tried, you'd get nowhere. But it -was there, all right, an emanation you couldn't mistake that stamped -him for what he was, radiating out from him.</p> - -<p>Equate immense simplicity with immense power and you might come up with -a part of the answer. But not all of it.</p> - -<p>The office was stripped of all non-essentials; a hermit's cell couldn't -have been barer. And it seemed to please him when my eyes swept over -the almost bare desk, with just an inkwell and a single sheet of paper -on it, before coming to rest on his face.</p> - -<p>I'm pretty sure he interpreted it as an indication that I was trying to -catch him up on something he took pride in, and he admired me for it, -and greeted me with a chuckle.</p> - -<p>"Well, Ralph!" he said. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight. I -thought you'd be home wearing Joan's patience ragged with the kind of -last-minute preparations women never seem to understand. They like to -think they never forget anything. But they do. They're worse that way -than we are, but just try getting them to admit it."</p> - -<p>There was only one chair in the office and he was occupying it. I -hardly expected him to get up and wave me toward it, but that's -precisely what he did.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, Ralph," he said. "I sit too much. We all do here, I guess. -Can't be helped, but it doesn't give a man of fifty-five much chance -to get the exercise he ought to have, if he's going to keep his weight -down."</p> - -<p>"No—don't get up for me, sir!" I said, then realized I was being -unnecessarily formal.</p> - -<p>The chair was empty and he expected me to take it. And I could see that -he didn't like the "sir." He never had.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, sit down. What is it, Ralph? Something worrying you? You'll -have plenty of time for that when you get to Mars. Why start now?"</p> - -<p>I decided to come right out with it. I favored bluntness as much as he -did, and there was nothing to be gained by talking around what I'd have -to ask him before I left.</p> - -<p>"There's something I'd like to know," I said. "Is the major part of my -assignment still under wraps, or could you tell me more about it—even -if you'd prefer not to?"</p> - -<p>He looked at me steadily for a moment, his lips tightening a little. -"Well—I certainly haven't kept it a complete secret, Ralph. You'll -get full instructions in code later on. There's naturally a reason for -that. I shouldn't have to go into it, because we've discussed it at -great length right here in this office."</p> - -<p>"I realize that," I said. "But could you see your way clear to telling -me much more than you have, if I can convince you that it would help me -solve a problem I can't solve otherwise."</p> - -<p>His eyebrows went up a little at that. "What kind of problem, Ralph?"</p> - -<p>"It's as old as the hills," I said. "The really ancient kind with -fossils embedded in them. It goes right back to the Old Stone Age, -and maybe a lot earlier. Joan doesn't want to go to Mars. She's very -stubborn, very determined about it. If I can't make her change her mind -I'll have to go alone. And I guess I don't have to tell you what that -would do to me. If I just had a little more time, another week or two—"</p> - -<p>"So that's it," he said. "You want me to tell you that your assignment -can be put off, that you're not really needed on Mars. We're just -sending you there because we like to do whimsical things occasionally, -to break the God-awful monotony of thinking about the problems the -project is confronted with in a serious way."</p> - -<p>I was startled, because I'd never known him to indulge in deliberate -irony before. He had all the intellectual equipment for it, but his -mind just didn't work that way.</p> - -<p>Then I suddenly realized he was going to tell me everything I wanted -to know and had just used that approach to make me a little angry and -keep me alert and analytical, so that I wouldn't underestimate the -seriousness of what he was about to say.</p> - -<p>"All right, Ralph," he said. "I'll risk angering a third of the Board. -I'm going to tell you exactly why the Mars Colony is in trouble, and -just how tremendous your task will be. You'll be in the middle, Ralph, -in the biggest clash of interests a new and growing society has ever -known.</p> - -<p>"A clash of interests can destroy any society, if they're violent -enough and have powerful enough backing and the population is divided -in its loyalties and lacks firm and courageous leadership.</p> - -<p>"That's especially true if the society is on a pioneering level, with -serious scarcities developing everywhere and with every man, to some -extent at least, in fierce competition with his neighbors, all apart -from the massive power monopolies that are in even fiercer competition -among themselves.</p> - -<p>"Don't you see, Ralph, don't you realize what that kind of -cross-purpose distribution of power in a new and pioneering society -can mean? When you have a three or four-way conflict, when everyone -is bidding for what you've got and can't afford to sell, or what you -haven't got but would like to sell, or what you can't sell for what -you'd like to get?"</p> - -<p>He smiled suddenly, for the barest instant, and then the seriously -concerned look which the smile had replaced came back into his eyes. -"I didn't intend that to sound facetious. It probably did, because it -has a slightly humorous side to it, like most major tragedies. I'm just -giving you the broad outlines now, the general situation. Frustration, -bitterness, thousands of colonists who can be swayed one way or the -other by corrupt pressures, self-interest, greedy power monopolies."</p> - -<p>"But there's a more specific situation you have in mind, is that it?" I -asked. "Everything you've just said is common knowledge."</p> - -<p>Trilling nodded. "Yes—but the general situation has to be underscored. -It is the crucial factor in everything that is taking place on Mars. In -a more stable, and highly developed society the raw power conflict of -the two major power monopolies would not take so destructive a form."</p> - -<p>"Two?" I said. "I was under the impression—"</p> - -<p>He waved my objection aside. "Oh, there are a dozen power combines. -But only the two giants—Wendel Atomics and Endicott Fuel—have fought -each other to a standstill and threaten the peace, and stability of -the entire colony. I'm putting it too mildly. There's an explosive -potential in that conflict that could destroy the colony overnight."</p> - -<p>He tightened his lips and took a turn up and down the office, then -came back to where I was sitting and gripped me by the shoulder. -"Ralph, listen. This is vital. I'll try to sum it up as briefly as -possible. You know what it cost to set up atomic generators, turbines, -transmission lines, and keep utilities no city can do without in -operation right here in New Chicago, in just one small section of the -city? How much more do you think it costs to do the same thing on Mars? -The transportation of materials alone—Have you any idea how much the -total expenditures come to?"</p> - -<p>"I guess so," I said. "I don't like to think about it."</p> - -<p>"Who does? But we had to think about it. We had to give Wendel Atomics -a thirty-year monopoly. No other power combine had sufficient monetary -resources to undertake it. And we had to give Endicott Fuel the same -kind of monopoly. They transport both atomic and liquid fuels at a cost -that would turn your hair white."</p> - -<p>"And now you say they're locked in a power conflict. But why? I should -think Wendel Atomics would purchase all the fuel it needs directly from -Endicott. And Endicott would—"</p> - -<p>I paused, troubled.</p> - -<p>"What would Endicott do, Ralph? It has no use for atomic generators. -It isn't geared to install them, even if it could somehow absorb the -terrific expense of transporting them. And that, of course, would be -impossible. No combine is wealthy enough to undertake that kind of -two-pronged enterprise."</p> - -<p>"But it wouldn't have to be a two-way exchange of commodities," I said. -"Not if Wendel continued to buy all of its fuel from Endicott. It -would, of course, have a tendency to dwarf Endicott, make it the lesser -of the two monopolies."</p> - -<p>"It would do more than that, Ralph. It could bankrupt Endicott. You -see, Wendel Atomics suddenly decided it was paying Endicott too much -for the fuel it used, and cut the price it was paying in half. And -Endicott could barely meet expenses."</p> - -<p>"Good Lord," I said.</p> - -<p>"Naturally Wendel Atomics couldn't get along without fuel," Trilling -said. "And it couldn't transport fuel for its own exclusive use from -Earth. The two-pronged enterprise factor again. So Endicott struck back -by refusing to sell its fuel to Wendel."</p> - -<p>"A complete stalemate, you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Not quite, Ralph. If it were, one side or the other would have to give -in eventually. Endicott seized on the bright idea of selling atomic and -liquid fuel directly to the Colonists. A wildcat kind of madness. The -colonists buy the fuel on margin and wait for the price to skyrocket. -And every so often it does, because Wendel has to keep its generators -operating. It won't buy from Endicott, but it has no choice but to buy -from the colonists.</p> - -<p>"Do you realize what such wild and dangerous wildcat speculation can -do to a new, rough-and-tumble, frontier kind of society, Ralph? The -colonists don't know whether they're rich or poor from one day to -the next. And with all their desperate needs, their frustrations, -their scrambling after scarce goods and services, their fierce -competitiveness, they are at each other's throats half of the time."</p> - -<p>"I'm beginning to get the picture," I said.</p> - -<p>"It's a very ugly picture, Ralph. Wendel Atomics buys its fuel -sporadically, cheats, steals, connives, beating the price down -artificially and then sending it skyrocketing again. It has its own -private police force. Translate—brutal roughnecks who know exactly how -to keep the colonists in line and frighten them into selling when the -fuel market sags and spending every cent they possess to buy more fuel -on speculation when the price soars.</p> - -<p>"Endicott doesn't care what happens to the colonists. It's out to make -Wendel Atomics come to terms and has methods of its own to keep the -colonists inflamed and reckless. The whole situation has even taken -on a political cast. There are pro-Wendel colonists, who work hand in -glove with the Wendel police and colonists who would willingly lay down -their lives in defense of noble, altruistic Endicott. It's the right of -everyone to buy fuel on speculation, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"I see," I said. "And my job will be to step right into the middle of -all that, and try to bring order out of chaos."</p> - -<p>Trilling didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at me, but -his gaze was not unsympathetic.</p> - -<p>"There's something I'd like to have you hear, Ralph," he said, when the -silence had lengthened between us and become almost minute-long. "We -have a new, round-the-clock recording to replace the one we've been -transmitting at intervals, night and day, for five years. I won't even -ask you how many times you've heard it, because you travel around a lot -and must have memorized it word for word. But this one is better, I -think. At least, it appeals to me more. A hundred million people will -hear it, starting tomorrow. It will be on every tele-screen."</p> - -<p>He bent over his desk and removed a miniature tape-recorder from the -upper right hand drawer. He set it down on the desk and clicked it on.</p> - -<p>"Just one passage I'd like you to listen to, Ralph. Not the whole -recording. This is it—"</p> - -<p>The voice that came from the tape was a very good reading voice, one -of the best I'd ever heard. The man was probably a poet. But the words -themselves interested me more.</p> - -<p>"... so bright with promise has Man's future become that all of the old -animosities, the old hates, will soon seem alien to us and strange. A -new world is in the making. Who can deny it? The colonization of Mars -has fulfilled the deepest instincts of Man's nature, and provided scope -for a growth that is as natural to him as breathing.</p> - -<p>"The desire to know more, to explore the unknown, to reach out toward -constantly expanding horizons can only be satisfied by boldly accepting -what the advance of modern science has brought within our grasp. The -colonization of Mars is a tribute to Man's stubborn refusal to be -easily discouraged or to let mechanical difficulties, no matter how -formidable, stand in his way. A tribute as well to his constructive -genius, his daring and breadth of vision."</p> - -<p>Trilling clicked the tape recorder off, returned it to his desk, and -turned to face me again.</p> - -<p>"That, Ralph, is the dream," he said. "You and I know what the reality -is like. But the millions who will listen to that recording do not. -They still believe—and hope."</p> - -<p>I was silent for a moment, not quite sure how he'd take what I was -going to say. I went over it in my mind, searching for just the right -words. It took me a full minute to find them, but he didn't grow -impatient.</p> - -<p>"I'm not sure the Board is wise in putting out that kind of propaganda. -Or any kind of propaganda. After all, we're not trying to sell Mars to -anyone. We're doing something that has to be done—you might almost -say we're just trying, in a very earnest way, to plug up a gap in the -biggest dam that was ever built, to keep the flood waters from carrying -us all to destruction."</p> - -<p>"You're wrong, Ralph," he said. "It isn't just propaganda. A dream -always has to go striding on ahead of reality. It may seem strange to -you, but the reality does not frighten or discourage me. Mars is a new -world and on a new world there has to be—not one, but many beginnings."</p> - -<p>He paused an instant, then added: "That's why we're sending you to -Mars, Ralph. There will have to be another beginning. It won't show -too much on the surface. No matter how successful you are, for the -colony will remain what it is basically—an experiment in survival. -All of a new world's energy will remain, and the turbulence and the -hard-to-endure disappointments. But you can help the Colonists go -back, and feel the way they did when the first passenger rocket settled -down on the red desert sand forty million miles from Earth and the -Space Age took on a new dimension."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c4" id="c4">4</a></h2> - - -<p>There was only one small window in Trilling's office. But I could see -that the sky outside was still bright with stars, and the glimmer of -the ceiling lamp made the metal surface above us seem to fall away and -dissolve into a much wider expanse of star-studded space.</p> - -<p>The ceiling-mirrored image of the lamp itself looked like the Sun, -blazing in noonday brightness directly overhead and out beyond were -galaxies and super-galaxies strung like beads on a wire across the -great curve of the universe.</p> - -<p>It was just an illusion, of course. You could see the same thing in the -light-mirroring depths of a glass of wine, if you stared hard enough. -But for an instant it seemed to bring bigness, vastness right into the -room with us.</p> - -<p>I was conscious of the silence again, lengthening, hanging heavy -between us, as if we'd each said too much, or possibly ... not quite -enough.</p> - -<p>Then Trilling bent and removed something else from his desk. I couldn't -see what it was until he set it down directly in front of me, because -it was much smaller than the midget tape recorder and his hand covered -it.</p> - -<p>A flat metal box, wafer-thin, doesn't provide much scope for -speculation, and I was pretty sure that the object inside was a tiny -metal precision instrument or a watch or a medal even before he said: -"This should make Joan change her mind, Ralph!" and snapped the box -open.</p> - -<p>The insignia caught and held the light, a two-inch silver hawk with its -wings outspread. The white lining of the box made it stand out, as if -it were flying through fleecy clouds high in the sky, and symboling in -its flight far more than just the elevation of one man to the highest -command post the Martian Colonization Board had the authority to bestow.</p> - -<p>The significance of that finely-wrought, seldom-worn silver bird -was not lost on me. In the maze of a hundred legends, a hundred -witness-confirmed stories of triumph and disappointment, of heroic -progress and tragic back-tracking, it had remained an important link -between Earthside expectations and what was actually taking place on -Mars.</p> - -<p>Only one man could wear it at any one time, and only four men had worn -it since the establishment of the colony. All four were dead now, their -gravestones a white gleaming on the red desert sand a few miles north -of the colony.</p> - -<p>"Well, Ralph?" Trilling said.</p> - -<p>I tried hard to maintain my composure, to say just the right thing, -because I'd lived long enough to know there are depths beyond depths to -some emotions that can't be put into words. Attempt to talk the way you -feel, and you're sure to sound a little ridiculous. I was only certain -of one thing. No man could wear that insignia and not feel, resting -upon his shoulders, a responsibility so tremendous that whatever pride -he might take in it would have to be tempered by humility—if he wanted -to go on wearing it for long.</p> - -<p>Trilling seemed aware of what was passing through my mind, for he made -it easy for me. He simply smiled, snapped the box shut with a briskness -that was almost casual, and handed it to me.</p> - -<p>"You've got real massive military prestige now, Ralph," he said. "Right -at the moment the Board would be gravely concerned if you wore that -insignia in public. But there's nothing to prevent you from wearing -it in the privacy of your own home. Later on the Board may decide you -can accomplish more by coming right out and letting the colonists know -there's a lion in the streets who intends to do more than just roar. -A safe, protective kind of lion—dangerous only to over-ambitious men -with destructive ideas."</p> - -<p>I started to reply but he waved me to silence. "Hold on, Ralph—let me -finish. You won't be wearing that insignia in public straight off. But -I hope you'll have enough good sense to make the best possible use of -it to overcome the first really big obstacle in your path."</p> - -<p>He nodded. "It will be a kind of blackmail, in a way—morally -reprehensible. You'll be taking advantage of something it isn't in a -woman's nature to resist. But you have no choice. You've got to go to -Mars and if you went alone you'd be about as useful to us as a celibate -kangaroo, all packaged and ready to be sent on a journey to the -taxidermist."</p> - -<p>He seemed to realize it wouldn't have to be quite that drastic, for -he grimaced wryly. "All right, all right. You could go out and find -another woman and I probably could talk the Board into being the -opposite of stuffy about it. But I happen to know what kind of man you -are, and how you feel about Joan. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure -she's the only woman in the world for you."</p> - -<p>There was nothing I could say to that. I had the insignia in my -inner breast pocket, and I knew that there were few obstacles it -couldn't blast away on Earth or on Mars, if I kept remembering what it -symbolized with Joan at my side.</p> - -<p>I went out into the cool night again, past that long tremendous -building with just one of its floors ablaze, past the big sky ships -looming like sentinel ghosts on their launching pads, past winking -lights and speeding cars and pedestrians walking slowly and something -inside of me made me feel I'd undergone a kind of sea change, and could -face whatever the future might hold without grabbing for a life-line -that didn't exist.</p> - -<p>It was a good way to feel. A man had to sink or swim without having -a life-line thrown to him—if he hoped to live long enough to change -things around in an important way on Mars. He had to keep his head and -breast the raging currents with the sturdiest kind of overhand strokes, -or be drawn down into the undertow and battered senseless against the -rocks that lined the shoreline.</p> - -<p>The change must have shown a little on the surface, in the set of -my jaw or just the way I was walking, because no less than three -pedestrians turned to stare at me as I went striding past them on my -way to the New Chicago Underground.</p> - -<p>I was almost at the northern entrance of the big, tree-lined square -directly opposite the Administration Building when it hit me—the -memory-recall, the swift emergence from its cubby-hole deep in my mind -of the narrow brush I'd had with Death and hadn't even discussed with -Trilling.</p> - -<p>It had been a mistake not to discuss it, because it concerned the Board -as much as it did me. Someone who knew about the insignia—or had made -a shrewd guess as to just how big a job was awaiting me on Mars—had -wanted me dead. The attempt on my life took on a much larger, more -crucial dimension when viewed in that light.</p> - -<p>There were three hundred million people in the United States, and if -I'd been just a private citizen, with no more than my own safety at -stake, I could have lost myself in that immense ocean of humanity for -a week or a month and gained a brief respite. There are plenty of ways -you can protect yourself against a surprise attempt on your life, if -you have the time to take safety precautions. When there's a would-be -assassin at large who is dead set on measuring you for a coffin you -have to work the problem out carefully, with a minimum of risk.</p> - -<p>It takes skill and psychological insight, but it can be done. You've -just got to remember that an assassin is never quite normal. Even when -a socio-political motivation is the governing passion of his life -you're one jump ahead of him the instant you've figured out exactly how -his mind works.</p> - -<p>In fact, one of those safety precautions could have been protecting me -as I crossed the square, if I hadn't let my stubborn pride stand in the -way. Why hadn't I asked Trilling to provide me with armed protection?</p> - -<p>Two alert bodyguards, trailing me on the street and down into the -Underground and standing watch outside my apartment all night long—and -staying fifty paces behind me until the Mars' rocket zero-count ended -and the big sky ship took off with a roar ... would have given the -Board the kind of reassurance they had a right to expect.</p> - -<p>I started to turn back, then changed my mind abruptly. I'd taken just -as great a risk by walking from the lakeside to the skyport right after -the attack, hadn't I? And I'd be in the Underground in another three or -four minutes, with people around me and—</p> - -<p>All right. It was an out-of-focus rationalization and nothing more—an -attempt to find an excuse for not turning back. But when I do something -reckless for complicated reasons, when I've forged ahead despite -my better judgment, I'm usually just impulsive enough to carry the -folly-ball all the way across the goal line.</p> - -<p>It was the thing I'd have to guard most against on Mars, that -damnable twisted pride and impulsiveness, that taking of too much for -granted when I started to do something I knew was unwise, but had an -overpowering urge to carry out anyway.</p> - -<p>Every weaving shadow beneath the double row of trees that towered -on both sides of me could have cloaked a crouching figure adjusting -another small mechanical killer to the deadliest possible angle of -flight. But I had another reason for not wanting to go back. Trilling -might fall in with the armed guard idea but I doubted it like hell. -I could picture him saying instead: "Ralph, even an armed car can be -blown up. You're staying under lock and key all night ... right here in -the Administration Building."</p> - -<p>I could even picture him saying much the same thing to Joan, her image -bright enough on his office tele-screen to be visible from where I'd be -standing: "He's not coming home tonight, Joan. We're sending an armored -car to pick you up in the morning. Wait, hold on—I'll let you talk to -him!"</p> - -<p>And I could almost hear her replying: "Don't bother to send the car. -I'm not going with him. Please don't think too harshly of me, please -try to understand. I just can't—"</p> - -<p>I started down the long boulevard on the far side of the square, still -walking rapidly and feeling suddenly confident I'd been justified -in not turning back. I could see the entrance to the Underground -glimmering in the darkness a hundred feet ahead of me and there were -people all around me walking in both directions. I wasn't even troubled -by the feeling that everyone gets at times—that something terrible and -unexpected can happen right in the midst of a crowd, if only because -the presence of many people exposes you to a dangerously wide range of -unpredictable human emotions.</p> - -<p>For the barest instant, when I crossed the narrow strip of pavement -directly in front of the kiosk, fear tugged at my nerves and I felt -myself growing tense. But I became calm again the moment I looked -around and saw that the only pedestrian within thirty feet of me was a -hurrying girl with a portfolio under her arm. When she saw how intently -I was staring at her she frowned and a look of annoyance came into her -eyes.</p> - -<p>Oh, for God's sake, I told myself, get rid of this nagging uncertainty, -and stop behaving like a fool. If he intended to try again tonight I'd -know by now. He's missed a dozen very good chances, so something must -be making him super-cautious, if he hasn't keeled over just from the -strain of watching me refuse to die. Killing's never easy, even for a -professional. It must be a little like being cut open, watching your -own blood pouring out of you, because all violence inflicts a two-way -trauma ... severe enough at times to make even a mad slayer fling down -his gun before going on a rampage of indiscriminate slaughter.</p> - -<p>There were arguments I could have used to wrap it up even tighter—such -as the way he'd be trapped and blasted down almost instantly if he -launched another attack on me so close to the spaceport's three -interlocking, hyper-sensitive security alert systems.</p> - -<p>But I didn't even pause to weigh them, because right up to that minute -I'd done very well, and the fear which had come upon me had been as -brief as an autumnal flurry of wind when you're coming around a tall -building at breakneck speed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I let the girl dart past me, taking my time, and in another five -seconds was descending into the big, brightly lighted cavern that was -New Chicago's intercity pride.</p> - -<p>As every school kid knows, the New Chicago Underground is six years -old, and is the largest, smoothest-running transportation system in the -world. It cost seven billion dollars to build and has almost as many -tracks and suburban off-shoots as station guards.</p> - -<p>It interlocks, spirals outward in a half dozen directions and -circles back upon itself. In a way, it's like the serpent you see -in bas-reliefs dating back three thousand years, in Babylonian and -Pre-Dynastic Egyptian tombs, for instance, or on totem poles in the -Northwest ... a serpent that's continually swallowing its own tail. -It's the oldest archeological art-form on Earth and is supposed to -symbolize Eternal Life.</p> - -<p>But to some people at least the New Chicago Underground symbolizes -something far more gloomy. If you're not careful to board just the -right train you can get lost in its tomblike, spiraling immensity and -feel as helpless as a wandering ghost or an experimental laboratory -animal caught up in a blind maze. You can be carried fifty miles -in the wrong direction and look out through the windows of a train -traveling at half the speed of sound, and see a country landscape or -the wide sweep of Lake Michigan five minutes after you've settled down -in a comfortable chair and become absorbed in the news of the day on -micro-film.</p> - -<p>You'll stare out and the section of the city where your home is located -just won't be sweeping past. You'll have to get off at the next -station, perhaps twenty or thirty miles further on, ride back, and -board another train. It's seldom quite as frustrating as that, but only -because most of the riders have been conditioned to keep their wits -about them through a nightmare kind of trial-and-error apprenticeship.</p> - -<p>You've got to stay alert until you've boarded a train with just the -right combination of numerals on its destination plate. It isn't hard -to do, unless you're carrying a tiny silver hawk in a wafer-thin -case, and your destination may be changed without warning and with -unbelievable infamy by someone capable of great evil who would much -prefer not to have you board a train at all.</p> - -<p>I could almost picture him weaving in and out between the platform -crowds—faceless so far, but quite possibly glassy-eyed with little -waltzing death-heads in the depth of his pupils. An unknown human -cipher intent on my destruction, refusing to be discouraged by the -failure of a small mechanical killer to do the job for him.</p> - -<p>If I'd had a strong reason to believe I actually was being followed, if -he'd come right out into the open and I could have caught a glimpse of -him, however brief, I'd have felt a subconscious relief that would have -kept me on guard and confident. It would have given me an edge that not -even the fact that I had no gun could have taken away from me.</p> - -<p>It's the unknown and unpredictable that's unnerving, the realization -that invisible eyes may be scrutinizing you from a distance and the -brain behind them deciding that it would be a great mistake to let a -failure of nerve or concern for the consequences interfere with what -had to be done.</p> - -<p>He wouldn't be wanting me to wear that insignia ever—on Earth or on -Mars—and just knowing that made me almost miss my train as it came -rushing toward me.</p> - -<p>The train was so crowded I had to stand, but I had no complaint on -that score. In a seat, with people jamming the aisle in front of me, -I'd have been wedged in even more securely. In a standing position I -could edge forward and back and keep an eye on the passengers who were -holding fast to the horizontal support rail on both sides of me.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c5" id="c5">5</a></h2> - - -<p>There were twenty-five or thirty passengers wedged into the middle -section of the train, all standing in slightly cramped postures and -most of them unsmiling. I knew exactly how they felt. Not being able -to get a seat in an off-hour in the evening can be irritating. But -right at the moment there was no room in my mind for annoyance. A -slow, hard-to-pin-down uneasiness was creeping over me again, as if a -pendulum were swinging back and forth somewhere close to me, ticking -out a warning in rhythm—and I couldn't shut out the sound of it.</p> - -<p>Just my over-strained nerves, of course. How could it have been -anything else? I turned and looked at the man standing next to me. He -was middle-aged, conservatively dressed, and had a square-jawed, rather -handsome face, with a dusting of gray at his temples.</p> - -<p>He was frowning slightly and his expression didn't change when I broke -the rule of silence which was customarily observed in the Underground.</p> - -<p>"No reason for all the seats to be gone at this hour," I said.</p> - -<p>The crazy kind of over-exuberance mixed with peevishness that makes -some people say things like that to total strangers a dozen times a day -had always seemed inexcusable to me. But when you're under tension you -sometimes break all the habits of rational behavior you've imposed on -yourself in small matters.</p> - -<p>My excuse was that I simply wanted to test the firmness and steadiness -of my own voice, to make sure that, deep down, I wasn't nearly as -apprehensive as I was beginning to feel.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know," the gray-templed man agreed. "It burns me up a little -too. But I guess it just can't be helped at times. Operating an -Underground this size must be an awful train-scheduling headache."</p> - -<p>"Headache or not," I said. "There's no excuse for it."</p> - -<p>He smiled abruptly, exposing large, white teeth and I noticed that -there was something almost birdlike in the way his eyes lighted up. -Small, black, very bright eyes they were, under short-lashed lids, and -quite suddenly he made me think of a magpie alighting on a limb, taking -off and alighting again, hardly able to restrain an impulse to chatter.</p> - -<p>"What it boils down to," he said, "is the old quarrel between a -pedestrian and a man in a car. Neither can understand or sympathize -with the other's point of view. Fifteen million people ride this -Underground every day and to them it's a poor slob's service at best. -That's because they feel themselves to be the victims, at the receiving -end. But you've got to remember that safety precautions pose a problem. -Avoiding accidents comes first and the New Chicago Transportation -System, considering its colossal size, does pretty well in that -respect."</p> - -<p>"People have been killed," I said, and could have bitten my tongue -out. Why let him even suspect that I was thinking about something that -wasn't tied in with his argument at all, why give him the slightest -hint? The Underground's accident record was good and couldn't have -justified such cynicism on my part. And just suppose he wasn't the -garrulous, middle-aged business man he appeared to be—</p> - -<p>A very sinister game can start in just that way, with everything -favoring the alerted party until he lets the other know that he's on -his guard and is having uneasy thoughts. That's where the danger lies, -in a subconscious betrayal, a slip of the tongue that will precipitate -violence faster than it would ordinarily occur.</p> - -<p>If a killer feels that he must move swiftly, before suspicion can -become a certainty, the odds shift in his favor. He has the advantage -of surprise. He becomes alerted too, and necessity acts as a goad—a -kind of trigger-mechanism. He'll act more quickly and decisively, -without the careful planning that may prompt him to talk too much and -give himself away.</p> - -<p>He'll take risks that are dangerous and could destroy him, strike -with witnesses present and all escape routes blocked. If he has to, -he'll strike even in a crowded Underground train with the next station -minutes away. And that kind of audacity sometimes pays off.</p> - -<p>I told myself that I was imagining things, jumping to a completely -unwarranted conclusion. The conversation of the man next to me was -exactly what you'd expect from a magpie. He was carefully sidestepping -all realistic appraisals of the Underground's shortcomings, trying his -best to look at the problem from all sides, even if it meant being -shallow and over-optimistic. He was the citizen with a smiling face, -the rather likeable guy—why should one hold it against him?—who was -trying his best to be fair to everybody, even if he had to burst a -blood-vessel doing it.</p> - -<p>Realizing all that made me feel less tense and part of the nightmare -feeling I'd been experiencing went away. But not quite all of it and -when the train passed into an unlighted tunnel and the aisle went dark -apprehension began to mount in me again.</p> - -<p>What if he was putting on an act, and wasn't the kind of man he -appeared to be at all? What does a killer look like? Certainly age had -nothing to do with it. He can be young or old—eighteen or seventy-five.</p> - -<p>His appearance, his clothes? There were wild-eyed killers with "psycho" -stamped all over them, and dignified, soberly-dressed men who looked no -different from your next door neighbor and had criminal records a yard -long, including, in all likelihood, a murder or two the Law would have -a difficult time proving.</p> - -<p>I didn't have to speculate about it. I <i>knew</i>, because I'd done more -than my share of social research. There was nothing to prevent a man of -distinction from becoming a killer, if he had a secret life that was -ugly and devious and a powerful enough motive.</p> - -<p>But now he was talking again, despite the darkness, and I was listening -with my nerves on edge. I was completely in the dark as to why -something about him had set the alarm bells ringing but I was sure I -could hear them, very faint and distant this time, but clearly enough. -It was funny. Sometimes it meant something and sometimes it didn't. I -could feel that danger was hovering right at my elbow and in the end -discover I'd been completely mistaken.</p> - -<p>I hoped I was mistaken this time, but I knew there was a -possibility—remote, perhaps, but dangerous to ignore—that the man -who had set the small mechanical killer in motion by the Lakeside had -followed me from the Administration Building into the Underground and -was standing by my side.</p> - -<p>"You take one of the really big power combines," he was saying. -"Like, say, Wendel Atomics. It has its defenders and detractors, and -I daresay there are quite a few people who would be happy to see its -Board of Directors behind bars. I'm not defending the Wendel monopoly, -understand. If I was a Martian colonist I might feel quite differently -about it. But you've got to remember that when you give the go-ahead -signal for a project that big you're asking fifty or a hundred key -executives to do the impossible—or pretty close to the impossible."</p> - -<p>"The impossible?" I said, trying to sound no more than mildly -interested, because I didn't want him to suspect what a jolt his -mention of Wendel Atomics had given me.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," he went on. "That's what it boils down to. Every one of -those men will be as human as you or I. They'll react in highly -individual ways to every problem that comes up, every frustration, -every serious interference with their private lives. You've got to -remember that a man's private life is the most important thing in the -world—to him personally. Every one of those fifty or a hundred men -will have health worries, money worries, love life worries, every kind -of worry you can think of. And on Mars worries can pile up."</p> - -<p>"So I've heard," I said.</p> - -<p>"Well, that's all. That sums it up. I'm simply citing Wendel as an -example of what the New Chicago Transportation System is up against. -I'd say, in general, that most of the directors are doing their best, -when the Old Adam in them isn't in the driver's seat, to keep the -trains running on schedule."</p> - -<p>He stopped talking abruptly. I didn't think anything of it for a -moment, for a loquacious man will often pause in the middle of a -conversation to wonder what kind of dent he's been making on the party -who's doing most of the listening. But when a full minute passed and -the darkness held, and he didn't say a word, when I couldn't even hear -him breathing, I began to grow uneasy.</p> - -<p>Reach out and touch him? Well, why not? It was the simplest, quickest -way of finding out whether he was still at my side and he could hardly -be offended if my hand grazed his elbow in a jostling motion that would -seem accidental.</p> - -<p>It was very strange. I didn't think he was the man I'd feared he might -be any longer, because of what he'd said, because he had brought Wendel -Atomics into the conversation. If he'd <i>had</i> designs on my life giving -his hand away like that would have been the height of folly. It would -have been like giving me cards and spades, and a detailed history of -his activities for the past five years.</p> - -<p>It didn't take any gifted reasoning to figure that out and I didn't -pride myself on it. Even a child could have done it. What disturbed me -and kept me from feeling relieved was something quite different. The -alarm bells were still ringing. <i>They were still ringing.</i></p> - -<p>Louder now and with a dirgelike persistence, as if I was already dead -and buried. And neither a child nor a grown man could have figured that -one out.</p> - -<p>That's why I felt I had to reach out and touch him, had to start him -talking again ... had to be sure he was still there at my side.</p> - -<p>He was there, all right. He was there in the most alarming possible -way, as a dead weight lurching against me, then swaying and screaming -as I tried to straighten him up, and stop the terrible downward drag of -his sagging body.</p> - -<p>He was sinking lower and lower, clutching at my knees now, refusing -to take advantage of the support I was offering him. I strained and -tugged, but it was no use. He was too heavy to raise and I could hear -the breath wheezing out of his throat and there could be no mistaking -the weight of horror that was making him twist and writhe as he -sagged—the deadliness of whatever it was that had struck at him in the -darkness without making a sound.</p> - -<p>He screamed again. It was the kind of agonized protest which could only -have come from the throat of a man who hardly knew what was happening -to him ... a man with his terror heightened and made more acute by -the awful, groping-in-the-dark realization that he was experiencing a -torment he was powerless to explain.</p> - -<p>There had to be an answer but I didn't know what it was, and when -the scream died away and the tugging stopped all I could hear for an -instant was the steady droning of the train. Then there was another -violent movement close to me and a harsh intake of breath.</p> - -<p>My hand shot out, grazed something smooth that whipped away from me and -caught hold of a wrist that was much thinner than a man's wrist had any -right to be.</p> - -<p>Much softer too, velvety soft, and it tugged and jerked in a frantic -effort to free itself, holding tight to the knife that it would have -taken all of a woman's strength to plunge deep into my heart.</p> - -<p>But she could have done it, whoever she was, for there was a wiry -strength in her—a strength so great that I had to twist her wrist -cruelly before her fingers relaxed and the knife dropped to the floor -of the train.</p> - -<p>She gasped in pain—or was it fury?—and exerted all of her strength -again in a desperate effort to break my grip. And this time luck was on -her side. No, call it what it was. Luck may have figured, but most of -it was plain blundering stupidity on my part. I was pretty sure I knew -what her first, misdirected blow with the knife had done to the man I'd -been talking to, and the thought so sickened and unnerved me that my -fingers relaxed a little when the knife went clattering, and she took -advantage of that to break free.</p> - -<p>The passengers were crowding me now, pushing, shoving in alarm, and I -knew it would be easy enough for her to force her way between them, -still exerting all of her strength and get far enough away to be just -one of the thirty terrified people when the train roared out into the -light again. They'd all look disheveled, on the verge of panic and I -wouldn't have a chance of identifying her.</p> - -<p>How could I have identified her with any certainty, even if she'd -been the only one with a guilty stare? I hadn't the least idea what -she looked like. I only knew that she wasn't old, was all woman in -her lithe softness, the opposite of an Amazon despite her strength. -The femininity which had emanated from her—how instantly it can make -itself felt, how instinctively overwhelming it can be!—had made me -feel like a brute for an instant, even though I'd known it was her life -or mine and I would have been quite mad to spare her.</p> - -<p>There were men I could think of, the opposite of brutes, who would have -knocked her unconscious with a blow to the head. To spare a determined -killer is potentially suicidal, but I doubted if I could have done that.</p> - -<p>I was still doubting it an instant later, when the train emerged from -the unlighted tunnel and the bright glare of the Underground lamps -flooded the aisle, bringing the man she'd stabbed by accident into -clear view.</p> - -<p>I was sure by now that she'd stabbed him by accident in a try for me, -but that wasn't going to help him at all. He had flopped over on his -back and was lying sprawled out in the middle of the aisle, and his -eyes stared up at me, sightless and glazed.</p> - -<p>There was no blood either on or beside him, but that only meant that -he'd been stabbed in the back and there hadn't been time for blood from -the wound to stain the edge of his clothes and trickle out from beneath -him across the aisle.</p> - -<p>His face had the pallor of death and his lips were drawn back over the -large white teeth I'd noticed when he'd been talking to me. Drawn back -in a stiff, unnatural grin and I didn't have to bend down and listen -for a heartbeat I knew I wouldn't hear to be completely sure that the -words he'd spoken to me would be the last he'd ever speak on Earth.</p> - -<p>Just the way his head lolled, back and forth with the rhythmic -throbbings of the train, would have clinched it for me. And I couldn't -have bent down, because the other passengers were all staring at him -too now, and elbowing me away from him to get a closer look, torn -between morbid curiosity and stark terror.</p> - -<p>I was too shaken, too sick at heart, to resent the elbowing. There was -anger in me too, cold, uncompromising and right at that moment I could -no longer even think of her as a woman.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was past midnight when I got home and let myself into the apartment. -I was more shaken than I would have cared to admit to anyone who didn't -know me as well as Trilling did, because casual acquaintances can do -you an injustice and judge the extent of your control by the way you -happen to be looking at the moment.</p> - -<p>I was quite sure that I was looking <i>very</i> bad, and however severely -I'd been shaken up by what had happened I still had a fair measure of -control over my emotions.</p> - -<p>I hadn't stayed in the train or on the platform to assist in the -investigation, but I didn't feel guilty about it. Trilling could square -all that with the authorities easily enough and he wouldn't have wanted -me to talk to the police and have to identify myself. I was sure of -that. My evidence would be taken down and turned over to the proper -authorities in good time. The rule for me—the only rule I had a right -to consider—was no entanglements.</p> - -<p>I shut and locked the front door and almost called out: "It's me, -darling!" as I usually do when I come home late, because when Joan is -alone in the apartment and hears a door opening and closing she gets -angry when I just walk in unannounced. It's part woman-curiosity, part -fear, I guess—the thought that it could be a prowler and why should -she be kept in suspense while I'm hanging up my hat and coat?</p> - -<p>But this time something prevented me from calling out. Possibly the -quarrel we'd had was still rankling a little deep in my mind and I -wasn't quite sure how she'd take the "Darling."</p> - -<p>My stubborn pride again. Or possibly it was just the feeling I had that -the apartment was quieter than usual, that when you're keyed up and -alert enough to hear a pin drop and you hear nothing—just a stillness -that's a little on the weird side—your anxiety becomes too great to be -relieved by calling out a cheery greeting.</p> - -<p>I felt somehow that it would be wiser, and set better with the way I -felt, if I just hung up my coat and walked into the living room without -saying a word.</p> - -<p>So I walked into the living room without saying a word and she was -sitting right in the middle of it, on a straight-back chair with all of -her bags packed and standing on the floor by the window, and with all -of my bags packed and standing cheek-by-jowl with hers, and the three -trunks that were going with me to Mars all sealed up and double-locked, -and she wasn't angry or shaking her head or looking at the luggage with -scorn.</p> - -<p>There was pride in her lustrous brown eyes and the adorable tilt of -her chin, and a warmth and a tenderness, and she was smiling at me and -nodding.</p> - -<p>"Oh, darling," she said. "Darling ... darling ... come here. Did you -think I'd ever let you go to Mars without me? It was just talk—just -stubborn, wild, crazy talk and it didn't mean a thing."</p> - -<p>If you marry a woman like Joan and ever have a moment of doubt ... -well, it means you ought to have your head examined. But you're twice -as far removed from sanity if you throw away the check. For you can -always be sure it will be redeemed eventually, in full measure and -brimming over.</p> - -<p>I didn't even have to put on my uniform and attach the small silver -hawk to it.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c6" id="c6">6</a></h2> - - -<p>We were not the only passengers in the eight-cabined forward section -of the big sky ship which had been assigned to us. But it had taken us -almost a week to get acquainted. To get really acquainted, that is, so -that we could relax and feel at ease and really enjoy one another's -company.</p> - -<p>We were sitting in lounge chairs on the long promenade deck that ran -parallel with all eight of the cabins, staring out through translucent -crystal at a wide waste of stars.</p> - -<p>Sitting in the first chair was a tall, sturdily built man of -thirty-eight, with keen blue eyes and a dusting of gray at his temples. -His name was Clifton Maddox and he was an electronic engineer. He had -stories on tap that could turn your hair white, because he had been to -Mars and back eight times.</p> - -<p>Seated next to him, with her hand resting lightly on his arm, was a -woman in her early twenties, with honey-blonde hair and eyes that held -unfathomable glints and an enigmatical ingenuousness that could keep a -man guessing in an exciting way. Her name was Helen Melton and she had -eyes only for the man at her side. She had managed to make of the trip -a continuous honeymoon, despite a few lovers' quarrels and the stern -exactions which her work as a medical laboratory technician had imposed -on her.</p> - -<p>I mention these two because they were fairly typical of the group as a -whole. They were all unusual individuals, the kind of people you take -a liking to straight off, when you meet them casually at a party and -exchange a few words with them that you keep remembering for days.</p> - -<p>Joan and I sat in the last two chairs on the promenade deck, a little -apart from the others. Joan was deep in a book and a little weary of -talking and I ... was thinking about the robots.</p> - -<p>The robots were a story in themselves—a story that could bear a great -deal of re-telling. If right at that moment I'd had a son—a bright and -eager lad of six or eight—I'd have set him on my knee and talked about -the robots.</p> - -<p>The five hundred passengers in the big sky ship were not alone in the -long journey through interplanetary space. In the last years of the -twentieth century, I'd have taken pains to make very clear to him, and -in the early years of the twenty-first, a great new science had grown -from an infant into a giant.</p> - -<p>The science of cybernetics, of giant computers that could do much -of Man's thinking for him on a specialized technological level, had -transformed the face of the Earth and was continuing to transform it at -a steadily accelerating pace.</p> - -<p>The rocket's four giant computers were of the newest and most efficient -type—humanoid in aspect, with conical heads, massive metal body-boxes, -and three-jointed metal limbs which had all of Man's flexible -adaptability in the carrying out of complex and difficult tasks.</p> - -<p>Robotlike and immense, they towered in the chart room with their -six-digited metal hands on their metal knees, their electronic circuits -clicking, their tiers of memory banks in constant motion, but otherwise -outwardly indifferent to the human activity that was taking place -around them.</p> - -<p>Four metal giants in a metal rocket, functioning cooperatively with -Man in the gulfs between the planets, might have made an imaginative -fiction writer of an earlier age catch his breath and glory in -the fulfillment of a prophecy. An H. G. Wells perhaps, or an Olaf -Stapledon. But the reality was an even greater tribute to the human -mind's inventive brilliance than the Utopian dream had been.</p> - -<p>The four giant computers were capable of solving problems too technical -for the human mind to master without assistance, usually with -astounding swiftness and always with the more-than-human accuracy of -thinking machines whose prime function was to correlate without error -the data supplied to them on punched metallic tapes, and to perform -intricate mechanical tasks based upon that data.</p> - -<p>The robots were tremendous, by any yardstick you might care to apply, -and if I'd had a son—</p> - -<p>I stopped thinking about the robots abruptly and sat very still, -listening. A sound I'd heard a moment before had come again, much -louder this time—a chill, unearthly screeching.</p> - -<p>The chart room was just outside the eight-cabin section and I could -hear the sound clearly. My nerves again, my over-stimulated imagination?</p> - -<p>In space strange and unusual sounds are as common as pips on a radar -screen. It was queer how quickly you got used to them. You had to -walk around with your ears plugged up, in a sense, but the plugs -didn't have to be inserted. They were just natural growths inside your -ears—invisible and without substance, but plugs notwithstanding. -They produced a kind of psycho-somatic deafness which didn't otherwise -interfere with your hearing.</p> - -<p>Just the very unusual sounds, the totally inexplicable raspings, -dronings, creakings—usually of short duration—were blotted out.</p> - -<p>You didn't hear them unless something deep in your mind whispered: -"This one is different. This is an emergency. Take heed!"</p> - -<p>The screeching was very different. It was like nothing I'd ever heard -before, on Earth or in space.</p> - -<p>The others must have heard it too, for it had been too loud, the second -time, to be ignored. But apparently that strange acceptance of strange -noises in space which goes with the kind of deafness I've mentioned -had only been shattered for me. The six men and women in the lounge -chairs had looked a little startled for a moment and exchanged puzzled -glances. Which meant, of course, that they had heard it despite the -mental earplugs in some inner recess of their minds. But that didn't -prevent them from shrugging it off and resuming their conversation.</p> - -<p>Joan also looked a trifle uneasy. She stopped reading just long enough -to raise her eyes and frown, then became absorbed in the book again.</p> - -<p>I got up quietly and pressed her wrist. "See you," I said.</p> - -<p>She shut the book abruptly and straightened in her chair. "Where are -you going, Ralph?"</p> - -<p>"Just stay right where you are, kitten," I said. "I'll be back in a -moment."</p> - -<p>"That screeching noise," she said. "I was wondering about it, Ralph. I -guess you'd better see what's causing it."</p> - -<p>So she'd been disturbed by it too, and ignoring it had taken a -deliberate effort of will which I hadn't realized she was exerting. It -made me happy in an odd inner way, because it proved again what I'd -always known ... that we were very close and there were currents of -understanding which flowed back and forth between us and I had a wife I -could be proud of.</p> - -<p>"It's probably nothing," I said, not wanting to alarm her. "But I might -as well take a look. It seems to be coming from the chart room."</p> - -<p>"All right," she said and squeezed my hand.</p> - -<p>I had to open and shut two sliding panels and pass along a blank-walled -passageway to get to the chart room. To my surprise the door was -standing open. It's usually kept locked, because there's no section of -the sky ship where a man who didn't want anyone to suspect that he -harbored within himself the most dangerous kind of destructive impulses -could do more damage.</p> - -<p>The shattering of a photo-electric eye or the ripping out of a single -live connection in just one of the four cybernetic robots could have -wrecked the rocket, and sent it spiraling down through the space gulfs -in flaming ruin, depending on just how vital to the robot's functioning -the shattered part happened to be.</p> - -<p>There was a security alert system which would have to be disconnected -first, but anyone resourceful enough to get inside the chart room -at all, without identification-disk proof that he had a right to be -there, would have known precisely how to take care of the preliminary -obstacles.</p> - -<p>I didn't waste any time in getting to that wide-open door, for my mind -was racing on ahead of me like the most alerted kind of alarm system, -its jaggling warning me that every second counted and that what I -dreaded most might very well be true.</p> - -<p>What I actually saw, when I reached the doorway and stood there looking -in, took me completely by surprise. It wasn't the way I'd pictured it -at all. But it was just as unnerving, just as much of a threat to the -safety of the ship and it startled me so I must have looked almost -comic, standing there idiot-still. But there was nothing comic about -what I saw.</p> - -<p>The woman I'd almost asked to go to Mars with me was staring straight -at me, her hair still piled up high, a look of terrified appeal in her -eyes. She wasn't alone. She was struggling furiously with a crewman I'd -talked to a few times and neither liked nor disliked—a heavyset man -with high cheekbones and pale blue eyes. He was gripping her savagely -by the wrist and they were both backed up against one of the robot -giants.</p> - -<p>Suddenly as I stared her head went back and a convulsive trembling -seized her. She began to scream.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c7" id="c7">7</a></h2> - - -<p>It was a christ-awful moment—for her and for me. For her because she -had no right to be in the Chart Room, or even on the ship, as far as -I knew, and there was a look on the crewman's face that chilled me to -the core of my being. It went beyond the anger of a duty-obsessed man, -outraged by her infringement of the regulations. It was a completely -different kind of anger. There was a savage cruelty, a killing rage in -his eyes, impossible to misinterpret.</p> - -<p>It was just as awful a moment for me, because I wasn't sure I could get -to him before he broke her wrist or did something worse to her. I'd -seen a woman kneed in the groin once, by just such an enraged human -animal, and the memory of it had never left me. A strong man, turned -maniacal, could kill with his hands in a matter of seconds. I'd seen -that happen too, and the victim hadn't been a woman, but a man as -powerful as the killer.</p> - -<p>I crossed the Chart Room in a running leap, grabbed him by the -shoulders and swung him about, raining blows on him more or less at -random. I just tried to hit him as hard as I could without caring -much where the blows landed, so long as they resounded with a meaty -smack where they would do the most good. My only aim was to stun -and, if possible, cripple him in a terrible, punishing way, so that -he'd release his grip on the wrist of the woman he'd been trying to -hurt before she screamed again and her hand dangled with a sickening -limpness, making me want to permanently demolish him in slow and -painful stages.</p> - -<p>For a moment I was only sure of one thing. My fist had smashed very -solidly into his face at least twice and drawn blood. I could see the -gleam of blood on his jaw as he reeled back, and I was almost sure I'd -heard his nose crack. There was nothing wrong with that, but it didn't -satisfy me. I wanted to turn his face into quivering jelly. But most -of all I was hoping, praying that she'd break free before I set about -doing that, because a voice was screaming deep in my mind that if she -couldn't he might still be capable of injuring her cruelly.</p> - -<p>She broke free. Just how I don't know, because the punishment I'd -dished out hadn't stunned him. He could still have fractured her wrist, -judging by the look of blazing fury he trained on me.</p> - -<p>His determination to repay me in full probably explained it. He needed -both of his hands free for that, because I could see that what he would -have liked to do most was get a strangler's grip on my throat.</p> - -<p>The human windpipe doesn't fracture easily, as every experienced -medical examiner knows. It's elastic and it gives, and post-mortem -appearances prove that you can die by strangulation with your windpipe -intact. But I have a horror of anything like that, and I didn't intend -to let his fingers come anywhere near my throat.</p> - -<p>I smashed my fist into his groin twice, putting so much -shoulder-to-elbow resilience into the blows that he bent almost double, -wrapped his arms about his middle just above his groin and went -staggering backwards.</p> - -<p>They were below-the-belt beltings, but I didn't give a damn about that. -Manhandling a woman just because she hasn't the strength of a male has -always seemed to be just about the worst crime on the books. All -right ... attacking a child is worse but you certainly forfeit all -right to Queensberry Rules consideration when you're called to account -for using your strength against anyone weaker than yourself, unless -he or she has done something vicious and there's a hell of a good -justification for it.</p> - -<p>I no longer wanted to permanently demolish him, now that she'd broken -free. But I had no control over what happened. The deck of the Chart -Room is all smooth metal, and the polishing preparation that's used to -keep it bright makes it almost as skid-slippery as a skating rink, if -you happen to be thrown a little off-balance.</p> - -<p>He was off-balance just enough to change his backward lurch from a -stagger to a swaying, spinning glide that sent him crashing against the -base of a robot giant.</p> - -<p>Up to that instant the four robot giants had looked exactly alike. But -a robot in motion looks quite different from a robot at rest, with -its massive metal hands on its metal knees, and its gleaming central -section in an upright position. The crash was followed by a splintering -sound which continued for several seconds without stopping. There was -a whirring as well, and a blinding flash of light came from the metal -giant's conical head. Almost instantly the robot was in motion, and -the way it swayed as it raised its segmented right arm high into the -air so alarmed me that I shouted a warning to the man I'd just finished -trying to send to the sick bay for a stay of at least two weeks.</p> - -<p>The jerky, erratic way the robot giant was swaying could only mean -that the crash had damaged its internal gadgetry, and it had gone -completely out of control. It was shaking and quivering all over and -even its ponderous central section seemed to bulge a little, as if from -hunger-bloat.</p> - -<p>That, of course, was absurd. But it's natural enough to think of a -robot as human and take refuge in absurdity when you know that a -cybernetic brain, encased in a functional body, can do just as much -damage as a madman running amuck with a deadly weapon. Just as much ... -more ... when it's out of control.</p> - -<p>You don't want to face up to it squarely, you shrink from it, because -some instinct tells you it would be dangerous to let the horror of -it come sweeping into your mind too fast. So you take refuge in -absurdity, you imagine things that are a little on the ludicrous side. -A hunger-bloat, a maniacal glare in photo-electric eyes.</p> - -<p>But when you've done that, you have to stand and watch the horror take -place before your eyes and in the end you've gained nothing ... because -when anything as terrible as what I saw sears its way into your brain -the memory of it will remain with you until you die.</p> - -<p>The robot giant's massive metal hand swept downward, descending on the -head and shoulders of the man who'd crashed into it. It hurled him to -the deck, and flattened him out with a hammer blow that crushed his -skull, broke his ribs, and tore a deep gash in his back. A red stain -spread over his ripped shirt. I shut my eyes, sickened. There was a -screaming behind me. I swung dully about and went to her and held her -head against my chest, stroking her hair, whispering soothing words -into her ear. I could do that without endangering the safety of the sky -ship, because the robot giant had ceased to move. With the descent of -its hand all of the whirrings had ceased and it remained in a bent-over -position, utterly rigid, its mace-like metal palm still resting on the -unstirring crewman's back.</p> - -<p>I was quite sure that no jury on Earth would have held me criminally -responsible for his death. It had been brought about by an accident I -couldn't have foreseen. Every man has the right to defend himself when -he's under attack, and not just my own life had been in danger. There -was no doubt in my mind ... not the slightest.... His rage had been -homicidal and he would have killed me if I'd given him the chance.</p> - -<p>Justifiable homicide. There could be no other verdict, if the insignia -the Board had given me hadn't conferred legal immunity when an -accidental death stemmed from my right to stay alive and I had been -forced to return to Earth and clear myself in court.</p> - -<p>I felt no moral guilt, but still—I was badly shaken. I had been -instrumental in causing his death, however unintentionally, and it's -always better if a man can live out his life without experiencing the -deep sadness that goes with that kind of knowledge.</p> - -<p>The only difference is—moral guilt never leaves you and grows worse -with the years. But there are so many tragic sadnesses in life that -they have a way of merging into one big, onrushing stream and when you -measure that stream against a brighter one, the joy-stream, the scales -seem to stay just about even, with the balance maybe just a little -heavier on the joyful side.</p> - -<p>Right at the moment there was another big, onrushing stream running -parallel with the sadness. The sober-obligation stream. Or maybe -duty-stream would be a better name for it. We spend at least a third -of our lives immersed in it up to our necks and swimming against the -toughest kind of currents. Sometimes I think we could do without it -entirely.</p> - -<p>What was it Baudelaire said about boredom? "But well you know that -dainty monster, thou, hypocrite reader, fellow man, my brother." You -could practically say the same thing about duty.</p> - -<p>But the stream is there, and if you just stay on the bank watching -the other swimmers you won't really have the right to plunge into the -joy-stream with a clear conscience.</p> - -<p>The first thing I had to do was get her out of the Chart Room before -she collapsed. She was close to hysteria and I didn't even want her -to look at the body again. I was careful to stand between her and the -robot, and when I guided her gently toward the door I kept my hand on -the back of her head and kept her face pressed to my chest.</p> - -<p>It was more difficult than it would have looked on a cinema -screen—more awkward and less romantic, and that was the way I wanted -it to be, because nothing could have been further from my mind at that -moment than the romantic glow I'd felt when I had been sitting across a -table from her in a lakeside tavern on Earth, and hadn't fully realized -that Joan was still the only really important woman in my life.</p> - -<p>Oh, all right. You can't have a head that beautiful nestling in the -middle of your chest without feeling a certain ... well, a quickening -of your pulse, at least. It can happen even in the presence of death, -when you've just been shaken to the depths in a ghastly way. Perhaps -because of that....</p> - -<p>Sex and death. Don't be morbid, Ralphie boy. Don't turn the clock -back and let the old Freudian catch-alls of a century ago confuse and -mislead you. Half of all that has been made clearer because we know now -what Man was like five million years ago when he was a very predatory -ape.</p> - -<p>Sure, sex and death are closely linked. Dawn man went hunting and slew -a cave bear and threw it down before his mate, all bloody, with pride -swelling in him and just the excitement of the hunt, the thrill and -danger of it, made him want to make love in just as exciting a way.</p> - -<p>But sex and life are even more closely linked, and in life there are -loyalties to consider and one woman becomes more important to you than -all the rest and you don't need that kind of stimulation to enable you -to make love to her in the most exciting possible way.</p> - -<p>The old stirring is still there, the death-sex linkage, and it can hit -you hard at times and you have to keep a tight grip on yourself to keep -from succumbing to it. But you can do it if you try.</p> - -<p>Of course I was being unfair to her. The sex-death linkage had no -more relation to the glow I'd felt back in the lakeside tavern than -it did now to her as an individual. I'd have felt the same stirring -if I'd been guiding Joan out of the Chart Room with her head on my -breast—more of a stirring because Joan was the one woman in the world -for me.</p> - -<p>What it really meant was that the woman with the hair piled up high on -her head filled me with a two-way sense of guilt. The life-sex linkage -was better than the death-sex linkage, and the one and only woman -feeling better than the promiscuous amorousness which any beautiful -woman can arouse in the male. And right at the moment she represented -both of the more primitive aspects of sex.</p> - -<p>But the dice had just fallen that way. It wasn't her fault and now she -was close to hysteria and needed reassurance and all the comfort I -could give her.</p> - -<p>As soon as we were out in the passageway I asked her to tell me who -she was. Her name. So much had happened between us that it seemed -unbelievable that I still didn't know that much about her.</p> - -<p>"I thought I told you right after we left the spaceport," she said. "I -thought you knew. It's Helen ... Helen Barclay."</p> - -<p>So ... the old wonder name, the magical name, the Topless Towers of -Illium name. How often it seemed to go with her kind of woman. How -could she have been Margaret or Janice or Barbara ... attractive as -those names were. Lilith perhaps ... yes. Or Eva ... because I've often -felt that Eve must have been a woman of glamor, red-headed and with -a temper a little on the fiery side, because how else could she have -come down to us as Earth's first legendary temptress? But otherwise ... -Helen, the glamor name that led the list.</p> - -<p>Why was I letting my mind go off at such an absurd tangent, when right -ahead of me the stern-obligation stream I've mentioned was widening -out, filling with rapids, becoming a river which could have swallowed -up the sky ship, or wrecked it ... if I failed to take up a giant's -stance right in the middle of it. Wade in and thrust the waters aside, -Ralphie boy. It's your duty. Try to think of yourself as a giant.</p> - -<p>What made it tough was ... I didn't feel at all like a giant. But what -had just happened in the Chart Room couldn't be ignored. A lot of -questions would have to be asked fast, and if the explanations sounded -like lies, if Helen Barclay refused to cooperate, some very drastic -action might have to be taken. I hoped she didn't have anything ugly -to conceal. Just the thought was hateful to me, because I believed -in her and trusted her. But the way I felt had nothing to do with an -obligation I had no right to sidestep for as short a distance as the -width of an electron-microscoped virus.</p> - -<p>I was glad that I wouldn't have to do the questioning. Not straight -off, anyway—not until I knew much more than I did, and all of the big, -vital questions had been answered with candor and I could go right on -feeling the way I did about her with a clear conscience. I hoped to God -it would be with candor. If someone is dying and you can do nothing -to save him and what he's done or hasn't done is of no importance to -anyone but himself ... you don't ply him with questions. But what she'd -done or hadn't done could send the sky ship down into the gulfs in -flaming ruin, because all of the passengers are encased in a fragile -kind of bubble and the slightest pinprick could puncture it.</p> - -<p>The pinprick, for instance, of an Earthside conspirator, traveling -along with the bubble out into space and awaiting just the right moment -to insert the tiny, darkly gleaming point of the pin under the skin of -the bubble.</p> - -<p>And she wasn't dying, but alive—and could, if she had nothing to -conceal, have no trouble in convincing the commander of the sky ship -that any such fear was groundless.</p> - -<p>I had to take her straight to the Commander. Otherwise I'd have to -take it up with someone of lesser authority and show him the insignia -and question her myself in private. I couldn't see any advantage to be -gained by that. It would leave the corpse in the Chart Room entirely -unexplained and the Commander would not take kindly to having anything -as disturbing as that left lying around in a loose-end way for him to -worry about.</p> - -<p>It would mean, of course, that I would have to show him the insignia. -That was the bad part, the one thing I wanted most to avoid. But I -could see no effective way of avoiding it now, because he was, after -all, in command of the sky ship and directly responsible for its -safety. He had every right to be the first to question her, unless I -chose to supplant that right with what the insignia represented. To do -so would not have been wise for a dozen reasons, the chief one being -that when a man is in a firm position to exercise reasonably high -authority it's always a mistake to go over his head unless you're sure -you can make a better job of it than he could, despite his specialized -knowledge. I didn't think for a moment I could come anywhere near -equaling Commander Littlefield's competence in guarding the safety of a -Mars' rocket ... so to curtail his authority in a high-handed way would -have been worse than inexcusable.</p> - -<p>But I would still have to show him the insignia ... or I would not be -permitted to sit in on the questioning.</p> - -<p>We were at the end of the passageway now and just by making a sharp -left turn I could have taken her into the cabin section and introduced -her to Joan. Perhaps, out of compassion, I should have done that ... -let her relax in a lounge chair and look out at the cool, untroubled -stars, and regain a little more of her composure. Some of it was coming -back, she wasn't trembling quite so violently now, and women seem -to know better than men how to ease shock-engendered agitation ... -especially when it's another woman they have to soothe and sympathize -with. I could trust Joan to handle it like an expert. "Of course, you -poor darling. I know just how you feel. Ralph will know what to do. -Don't think about it. Just stay right here with us until Ralph comes -back."</p> - -<p>It would have been the kind thing to do, all right and for an instant I -hesitated and almost committed an act of madness.</p> - -<p>When you've something to conceal, it's much easier to avoid a -thoughtless admission, a damaging slip of the tongue, when you've had -time to collect your thoughts and decide in advance exactly how much -of the truth it's wise to reveal. She was too agitated now to guard -against slips and our chances of getting at the truth would be much -better. And like the short-on-brains, over-chivalrous lug I could be on -rare occasions—I hoped they were rare—I'd almost torn it.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c8" id="c8">8</a></h2> - - -<p>Unlike Jonathan Trilling, Commander Littlefield was the kind of man -who was what he was in an uncomplicated way. You didn't have to try to -analyze why he impressed you as he did, because it was all there on -display, right out in the open. He was big and robust looking, with -a granite-firm jaw and the kind of features that take a long time to -develop the lines of character that are etched into them, because a -man who has his emotions well under control in his youth will pass -into middle-age before you can tell from his expression just how much -maturity and strength resides in him.</p> - -<p>There are bland-faced lads who seem to have no lines of character at -all in their countenances up to about the age of twenty-eight. But when -you hear them talk you change your mind very quickly about them, and -when they are forty-five the lines are all there, deeply-etched, and -the mystery is explained. Commander Littlefield was that kind of man.</p> - -<p>We had several very serious things to discuss, because five hours had -passed since I'd sat facing him in the same chair and Helen Barclay -had sat in another chair at right angles to a third chair, which he -had drawn out from his desk and occupied for a full hour without a -coffee break, his eyes searching her face as she talked. His stare -was a kind of interrogation in itself, and it must have been hard for -her to endure. I think it would have angered me a little, if I hadn't -suspected what was behind it.</p> - -<p>Her story stood up very well and had the ring of truth and her eyes -never wavered. But he was hoping they would, then he could detect in -her eyes a flicker of hesitation, of evasiveness, which would give her -away.</p> - -<p>But he hadn't. Her story had stood up almost <i>too</i> well ... because the -truth always has a few flaws and inconsistencies in it. Memory is never -a perfect enough mirror to permit anyone to avoid contradictions when -they are doing their best to tell nothing but the truth, even under -oath.</p> - -<p>But she hadn't seemed to be lying, and in the end I think she convinced -him completely, because toward the end he stopped looking at her as if -every word she said was impressing him unfavorably.</p> - -<p>And now she was in the sick bay, recovering from shock, and I was back -again for another talk with the Commander.</p> - -<p>He began by saying: "I don't know just how I should address you, Mr. -Graham—sir. That silver hawk gives you a Colonization Board clearance -that's a little on the special side ... you'll have to admit. The -first man who wore it got a little angry when anyone addressed him as -'General' because that's a strictly military title, and military titles -haven't been in common use for forty years. There's not supposed to be -any army anymore—on Earth or on Mars. But I've always sort of liked -'General' and that insignia is practically the equivalent of five -stars."</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid I don't like 'General' at all," I said. "The title is ... -Ralph."</p> - -<p>"Well ... suit yourself. <i>Ralph.</i> I'm a simple soldier at heart, I -suppose—always will be, even though I hold the rank of Commander. -You're young enough to be my son, so that informal crap doesn't go too -much against the grain, if you're that serious about it."</p> - -<p>"I'm serious about it," I said. "And you're not old enough to be my -father. An older brother, perhaps. You can't stretch it any further -than that."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean I can't? I'm an old man of forty-eight. Hair -thinning, going a little to fat. My God, a Wendel Atomics or Endicott -Fuel top executive couldn't look any older, and they've got a head -start on the rest of us. They start burning out at thirty-five."</p> - -<p>"There's not an ounce of fat on you, as far as I can see," I assured -him.</p> - -<p>"That's going to handicap you on Mars, Ralph. Eyesight not what it -should be in a five-star general. Look again, look closer. I've got -a pot belly you'd notice, all right, if I didn't exercise to keep it -down."</p> - -<p>I'd skipped over his reference to Wendel Atomics and Endicott, maybe -subconsciously, but it must have registered belatedly in a very -pronounced way, because something in my expression turned him dead -serious in an instant. No man ever speaks with complete levity about -his age, but what there was of ironic amusement in his gray eyes -vanished and his lips tightened.</p> - -<p>"Well ... suppose we go over what we've got," he said. "I'll be -grateful for any ideas, any suggestions you may care to make. I've -found out something that's going to give you a jolt. It may even rock -you back on your heels, depending on how easily you can be rocked. But -it will keep ... until we've discussed what she told us. What do you -think of her story?"</p> - -<p>"I believe it," I said. I didn't think it was necessary to elaborate.</p> - -<p>"Well ... I'm afraid I do too, more's the pity. If I thought she was -lying I'd have more of a lever to pry what we don't know loose."</p> - -<p>There was a thin sheet of paper covered with very fine handwriting on -his desk. He picked it up and ran his eyes over it.</p> - -<p>"I sort of summarized what she told us," he said. "But there's no sense -in your reading this. I can summarize it even more briefly by skipping -two-thirds of what I have here."</p> - -<p>"You might as well," I told him. "She talked and we listened -for at least twenty minutes. Then we both questioned her. In a -question-and-answer session like that the vital points are apt to get a -little blurred."</p> - -<p>"Well, we know she did something no one has ever done before—stowed -away on a Mars' ship. I'd have said it couldn't be done ... and so -would you, I'm sure, because you're as familiar with the inspection -routine as I am. You passed through it. No one could possibly get -inside a Mars' rocket without a Board clearance and a personal, -ten-point identification check every step of the way. In other words, -you can't just ascend the launching pad, be whisked up to the passenger -section and walk right in. There's only one way you can get inside -without passing the four inspection points, with machines X-raying you -from head to toe."</p> - -<p>"I know," I said. "It was a damn clever stunt."</p> - -<p>"It was more than a stunt. It was an achievement on the creative genius -level. It took planning and foresight. And ... luck. A great deal of -luck. But that doesn't detract from the brilliance of it. She found out -that we were installing a new cybernetic robot, to replace one that had -developed electronic fatigue and had to be removed for repairs and a -long rest. And she knew that we wouldn't X-ray a robot or subject it to -any of the usual tests. It would just be wheeled right in."</p> - -<p>Littlefield paused an instant, then went on. "She knew there was plenty -of room inside a cybernetic robot that large, between the tiers of -memory banks and all the other gadgetry, for the carrying out of what -she had in mind—a stowaway gamble that was almost sure to succeed. She -provided for her comfort during the long trip in half-dozen ingenious -ways, as we know, and made sure that the food concentrates she took -along were high in essential proteins.</p> - -<p>"She knew, of course, that she couldn't stay inside the robot without -coming out at all. She'd have to emerge occasionally, if only to ease -the psychological strain. But she used good judgment and only emerged -when she was absolutely sure that it would be safe."</p> - -<p>"But once she didn't," I said.</p> - -<p>"Once she didn't. Once she felt she couldn't stand the tensions that -were building up in her any longer and she took a chance and came out -when she wasn't sure the Chart Room would be deserted. You told me -you thought it was never left unguarded. Well ... that isn't strictly -true. There's a built-in security alert system in all of the robots and -we can risk leaving it unguarded for a few minutes, when every member -of the crew is needed elsewhere, to take care of some particularly -troublesome space headache. That's what we call the small and seldom -very serious emergencies which are always arising in a sky ship this -large."</p> - -<p>"But if she heard someone moving about ... she must have been crazy to -emerge," I said.</p> - -<p>"That's just it. She wasn't sure she heard anyone. In fact, she was -almost sure it would be safe to emerge. She'd learned to trust her -instincts, and the silence was almost unbroken. Just once she thought -she heard a slight sound, but she put it down to the tension that was -building up in her. She felt she <i>had</i> to emerge."</p> - -<p>"And he caught her," I said, nodding. "And was more enraged than he -had any right to be. His fury was maniacal. If you'd seen the look on -his face and the way he was twisting her wrist you'd have been sure as -I was that he was quite capable of killing her. And that's the most -puzzling part of it. We can't explain it—and neither can she. That's -the one part of her story I was afraid you wouldn't believe."</p> - -<p>"I didn't for a moment," Littlefield said. "I was sure she was -lying ... until the look of bewilderment in her eyes convinced me she -was telling the truth."</p> - -<p>"You didn't want to talk about him until you'd examined the body," I -said. "I guess I got a little angry when you were so damned insistent -on that point. I was just about to—well, use that silver bird to make -you change your mind. That used to be called 'pulling rank' on someone -you respect and who has every right to tell you off. Since you like to -play soldier—and I mean that in a complimentary way—you're free to go -ahead and tell me off now, if you want to."</p> - -<p>"Hell no. You had every right to press me. I just felt a little guilty -and ashamed, I guess—to think that I'd let a crewman come aboard this -sky ship who had managed in some way to deceive the Board. I was pretty -sure, even then, that his clearance papers must have been forged, but -I wanted a chance to examine the body before I committed myself, one -way or the other."</p> - -<p>"I guess I'd have done the same," I said</p> - -<p>"Yes.... Well, I'd have gone right down to the Chart Room and examined -the body before I listened to what she had to say ... if you hadn't -given me some very sound advice. If we questioned her while she was in -a keyed up state we'd have a better chance of getting at the truth."</p> - -<p>I'd almost tripped over that one myself, so I didn't rate the -compliment he was paying me. But it was too minor to make me feel -conscience-bound to disillusion him.</p> - -<p>"You saw me click the officer-section communicator on and talk into -it for a minute or two," he went on. "I ordered a double guard posted -in the Chart Room, but I told them not to touch the body until I had -a chance to get down there myself. It's just as well I did, because -something was found on the body I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to -see."</p> - -<p>He was smiling a little and I wondered why, until he exploded the -bombshell—the thing he'd said would rock me back on my heels.</p> - -<p>"He'd deceived the Board with a vengeance, apparently. There was a -sealed envelope on him and when I tore it open there was a card in -it. It wasn't a Board clearance card. It was a Wendel Atomics private -police card and it identified him as the kind of secret agent you'd -trade in for a snake if you <i>had</i> to have something poisonous on -board and were given a free choice in the matter. The Wendel police -are little better than hired killers—although perhaps a few of them -are generous-minded enough to feel that when you've beaten a man -insensible it's going a little too far to put a bullet in him as well. -And the Wendel secret agents are the worst sadists of the lot. They're -hand-picked for shrewdness and when you get intelligence along with -brutality there's no refinement of cruelty that won't be resorted to -when the going gets rough."</p> - -<p>"Good God!" I said. "So that's why—No ... no. It doesn't quite explain -why just the sight of Helen Barclay emerging from the robot enraged him -the way it did. Just the fact that there was a woman stowaway on Board -shouldn't have angered him at all. It wasn't his headache, because -he was merely masquerading as a crewman. Even a man who felt some -responsibility in the matter would have only been a little angered."</p> - -<p>Littlefield nodded. "Don't think that hasn't occurred to me. If he'd -never set eyes on her before, or had no idea who she was ... it's hard -to see why he should have become enraged, as you say. That's why I've -gone to such lengths to make sure she was telling us the full truth -when she explained why getting to Mars was so important to her."</p> - -<p>He didn't have to read from the paper he was still holding to help -me recall in detail everything she'd said during that part of the -question-and-answer session. It had made too deep an impression on -me. It had also struck a vital nerve, because it was tied in with my -assignment. Not directly, because I could have completed my big job -without so much as talking to her again. But she was going to Mars -because of something that Wendel Atomics had done.</p> - -<p>Wendel Atomics was the exposed nerve, because anything that had to do -with the Martian power combines was of vital interest to me, if only on -the general information level.</p> - -<p>In her case it was a personal matter, just between Wendel and herself. -A very small matter to Wendel but overwhelmingly important to her.</p> - -<p>Her brother, an electronic engineer, was dying by inches in a Wendel -laboratory. Slow, radio-active poisoning meant very little to Wendel -Atomics apparently, when just one small human cog was afflicted with it -and they still needed his services.</p> - -<p>So she had used her own knowledge of electronics and a very great -resourcefulness and a high I.Q. to stow away in a cybernetic robot and -was on her way to Mars to see what a woman of courage, entirely alone, -could do to save the life of the only brother she had.</p> - -<p>She had tried to get a clearance from the Board and failed and that -explained how she happened to be in the New Chicago spaceport bar when -my own life had been in even more immediate danger ... because slow, -radio-active poisoning takes a long time to kill and if you can stop it -in time there's always a chance that the victim will recover.</p> - -<p>"I've been checking up ever since you left," Littlefield was saying. -"I managed to get through to Earth on the needle frequencies and -Trilling knows now that you showed me the silver bird. The code -I used to tell him that was too complicated to be broken by the -big-brained inhabitants of Alpha Centauri's third planet, if—as seems -unlikely—such a planet exists."</p> - -<p>"And you didn't even tell me," I said. "I suppose I should be burned up -about it."</p> - -<p>"No, you shouldn't be. I just saved you a lot of unnecessary -explaining. You can talk to Trilling all you want to from here on in, -but I've cushioned the shock for you, taken a little of the edge off -the way he seemed to feel for a minute or two."</p> - -<p>"Well ... all right," I said. "Just what did you tell him."</p> - -<p>"I asked him to do what he could to confirm her story. So far -everything she told us seems to check out. Of course, they haven't been -able to turn up too much, and she could still be lying. But we may get -more on it later on. Don't count on it, though. I may not even be able -to contact Trilling again. The needle frequencies are as unreliable as -hell, as you know."</p> - -<p>"But you just said I could talk to Trilling myself—"</p> - -<p>"If we're lucky. You can't express yourself with precision when you're -as troubled as I am right now."</p> - -<p>I was troubled too ... perhaps more than he was. But just trying to -make that concern dwindle a little by turning all the knobs on and off -kept me from thinking about it.</p> - -<p>"Well ... he could have recognized her," I said. "There could have -been a link there, since he was a Wendel secret agent and her brother -works for Wendel. Maybe they sent him her brother's photograph over the -needle frequencies and said: 'Look around for a girl who resembles this -man and keep an eye on her. She's one little girl we're worried about."</p> - -<p>"Oh, sure, that could be it."</p> - -<p>"It wouldn't sound quite so ludicrous, Commander, if it was her -photograph they managed somehow to send him. Maybe they secured one -from her brother without his knowing about it. But still—it wouldn't -make much sense. Why should they fear her enough to put a secret agent -on her trail? One helpless woman forty million miles from Mars. He -couldn't have known she'd smuggle herself on board the rocket in a -cybernetic robot ... because his rage when he discovered her precluded -that. And why would he make the trip if he was out to get her and, for -all he knew to the contrary, she was still somewhere in New Chicago?"</p> - -<p>"If he was trailing her he could have suspected she might be on board -and may have been searching everywhere for her," Littlefield pointed -out. "That would even explain his rage when he finally got his hands -on her, if we remember the kind of sadistic human animal he was. -Frustration alone could produce a rage as violent as that in a Wendel -agent—days and nights of fruitless searching. But ... I agree with you -that it doesn't make sense otherwise. The stumbling block, as you say, -is the difficulty in imagining how Wendel Atomics could possibly regard -her as that serious a menace. Or fear her at all, for that matter."</p> - -<p>That was as far as we got. The officer-section communication -instrument on Littlefield's desk started buzzing and he swung about to -pick it up, with an almost joyful eagerness.</p> - -<p>I was sure that at any other time he'd have accepted that call with -no visible display of emotion, just as a routine necessity. But when -you've reached a stone wall in a discussion of vital importance and the -odds against your making any further progress seem insurmountable, for -the moment at least, practically any interruption will be as welcome as -sunlight after a drenching rain or a peasoup fog. It's certainly better -than beating your head against stone.</p> - -<p>He listened for perhaps ten seconds with the instrument pressed to his -ear, with no pronounced change of expression. Then his face blanched -and a look of horror came into his eyes.</p> - -<p>He slammed the instrument down and headed for the door on the run, -completely unmindful of his dignity. Then he seemed to remember that he -owed me an explanation—a man of principle will usually take a second -or two out for that even when his home is in flames—and turned a yard -from the door to shout at me.</p> - -<p>"Someone got the nose-cone panel open, climbed outside and is crawling -along the airframe toward the jet section! He's wearing magnetic boots -and if I'm not mistaken he's equipped with everything he needs to blow -the rocket apart."</p> - -<p>When he saw the look on my face he added reassuringly. "We've still got -a good chance of stopping him in time, because he just climbed out. -But we'll have to bring most of the airframe into sharp focus on the -viewplate, and pinpoint his every movement."</p> - -<p>It came as such a shock to me that I felt I had a good chance of -suffocating, just from the way my throat tightened up and my heart -started pumping blood at twice its usual rate.</p> - -<p>I'm not quite sure how I managed to follow him at a distance of not -more than fifteen feet, down three intership ladders and along four -branching passageways, without once stopping to get my breath back. I -doubt if I could have done that anyway.</p> - -<p>Right foot, then left, right left, right left, Ralphie boy, and don't -give up the ship. Never give up the ship when there's a chance to save -it. There's nothing painful about being vaporized in space. Remember -that, keep it firmly in mind. Nothing painful, nothing sad ... just a -quick end to all you've had.</p> - -<p>I don't know why I thought the Chart Room looked deserted, like -a big, unoccupied mausoleum with tiers for coffins—dozens of -coffins—running up both of its sides. No coffins yet, just the empty -shelves, for burial time had not yet arrived. But how could the Chart -Room have looked deserted, when it wasn't at all?</p> - -<p>There were a dozen officers standing in front of the big lighted screen -and when we crossed the room to join them without announcing our -arrival—well, that made fourteen.</p> - -<p>I can't even explain how I got the idea there was a chill in the air -that seemed to wrap itself around me in moist, clinging folds, because -no section of the sky ship was more comfortably heated.</p> - -<p>I didn't spend more than a minute or two trying to puzzle it out, -because the "furious sick shapes of nightmare," to quote from a poem -I wasn't sure I'd ever read, only disturb you when you give them more -encouragement than they're entitled to.</p> - -<p>The only really important thing was that we could see him in bent -light on the big screen—a tiny, spacesuited figure climbing along the -airframe, laden down with something cumbersome that he kept pushing -before him in a completely weightless way as he inched further and -further toward the rocket's stern.</p> - -<p>All at once, I knew what was going to happen to him. I was as sure of -it as I am that I have two big toes that point a little inward and that -Joan sometimes tenderly jokes about.</p> - -<p>Between Earth and Mars space isn't empty. It hasn't been empty for more -than half a century, which is a pretty good record on the survival -scale for man-made, mechanical implants. The early Sputniks didn't last -one-tenth as long.</p> - -<p>I knew without waiting for Commander Littlefield to finish what he -was saying to one of the officers and issue a command that the needle -frequencies scattered throughout the void on all sides of us were the -only composite weapon we could count on to save the sky ship and all -the people between its decks who didn't want to be vaporized. And that -took in practically everyone on board.</p> - -<p>Sure, I know. Everyone had thought that the millions of filament-thin -wires which had been put into orbit around Earth in the seventh and -eighth decades of the twentieth century and later into orbit around -Mars and far out into interstellar space would only be used for -purposes of communication. Project Needles, or, if you want to be -strictly technical, Project West Ford.</p> - -<p>God grant that they may some day be used in no other way. But when a -man climbs out on the airframe of a sky ship, for the sole purpose of -blowing it up——</p> - -<p>There is only one way I can do justice to the speed with which it -happened and the awful, mind-numbing finality of it. It is not -something which should be recorded in a paragraph, a page, but in two -sentences at most.</p> - -<p>Commander Littlefield issued a command, and a light on the instrument -panel blinked, and a million magnetized filaments converged, united and -so united, converged again on the airframe of the sky ship. There was a -blinding flash of light and the tiny human figure was gone.</p> - -<p>The first words Commander Littlefield spoke, after that, were to me.</p> - -<p>"Whoever he was, he must have wanted her dead pretty badly ... to have -been willing to blow up the sky ship and kill himself in the process."</p> - -<p>There was a strange look on his face and his gray eyes met mine with a -question in them.</p> - -<p>Then he spoke the question aloud. "Or was it you, Ralph, whom he had in -mind?"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c9" id="c9">9</a></h2> - - -<p>The clang of the opening port was still ringing in my ears when I -walked out of the sky ship with Joan on my arm and looked down over the -big metal corkscrew directly beneath me. I knew straight off I'd made -a mistake. I should have looked up at the sky instead. I should have -squared my shoulders, drawn the crisp, tangy air deep into my hangs and -established rapport with Mars more gradually.</p> - -<p>A delay of only a moment or two would have spared me the too sudden -shock of finding myself three hundred feet in the air, dazzled by an -unexpected brightness, and supported by nothing I'd have cared to trust -my weight to on Earth.</p> - -<p>We were standing on a thin strip of metal, a mere spiderweb tracery, -and if I'd lost my balance and gone crashing through the guard rail -there would have been no mountaineer's rope to save me. What was worse, -I'd have taken Joan with me.</p> - -<p>The danger was illusionary, of course ... solely in my mind. The -underwriters go to a great deal of expense and trouble to make sure -there will be no tragic accidents when the big risks have been left -behind in space.</p> - -<p>The guard rail was chest-high and sturdy enough, and no one had ever -gone crashing through it. But you can't reason with a feeling, and for -an instant the yawning emptiness beneath me made me feel that I was -already past the rail, twisting and turning, flailing the air in a -three-hundred-foot plunge.</p> - -<p>I was sure that Joan was experiencing the same kind of irrational -giddiness, for she drew in her breath sharply and a shiver went -through her. A fear of great heights is one phobia that is shared by -practically everyone.</p> - -<p>The big metal corkscrew beneath us was the landing frame into which -the rocket had descended and we were standing high up on that enormous -spiral, which curved down and outward like an immense silvery cocoon.</p> - -<p>A figure of speech, sure. But not as wide of the mark as most of the -images that flash across your mind when you're keyed up abnormally and -a lot of new colors, and sights and sounds rush in on you and upset all -of your calculations as to how sober-minded you're going to stay. Your -grasp on reality slips a little, as if you were holding it right before -your eyes like a book, and wearing glasses so strong that the print -blurs. You're in a fantasy world of your own creating, seeing things -that can't be blamed on whoever wrote the book. A fussy, unimaginative -little guy, perhaps, who has spent most of his life within sight of his -own doorstep and has never felt the great winds of space blowing cold -upon him.</p> - -<p>There's a big, night-flying Sphinx moth with death-heads on each of its -wings, and there were times when I'd thought of the Mars ship as not so -different from that kind of moth. And now it was as if the sky ship had -turned back into a caterpillar again, and spun a cocoon for itself, and -was quietly reposing in the pupa stage, its rust-red end vanes folded -back, its long length mottled and space-eroded where the atomic jets -had seared it.</p> - -<p>There was nothing wrong in giving my imagination carte-blanche to go -into free fall like that, because when you're standing on a dizzy -height staring down at a new world forty million miles from Earth -you've got to let the strangeness and bursting wonder of it ... along -with the dire forebodings ... take firm hold of you. Otherwise you -won't feel yourself to be a part of it, won't be equipped with what it -takes to probe beneath the surface of things in a realistic way and -feel like a native son even in the presence of the unknown.</p> - -<p>Three hundred feet below me more activity was taking place than I had -ever seen crowded into an area of equal size on Earth. Just as a guess, -I'd have said that the spaceport's disembarkation section was about six -hundred feet square. But right at that moment I had no real stomach for -guessing games—only a hollowness where my stomach was supposed to be.</p> - -<p>Far below the disembarkation section was in high gear, and the clatter -of it, the rushings to and fro, the grinding and screeching of giant -cranes, and atomic tractors, and rising platforms crowded to capacity -with specialized robots, most of them scissor-thin and all of them -operated by remote control ... would have half-deafened me if I'd been -standing a hundred feet lower down.</p> - -<p>Even from the top of the spiral the clamor had to be heard to be -believed. But what astounded me most was the newness, brightness, -sharply delineated aspect of everything within range of my vision. -I could see clear to the edge of the spaceport, and the four other -securely-berthed rockets stood out with a startling clarity, their nose -cones gleaming in the bright Martian sunlight. The big lifting cranes -stood out just as sharply, and although the zigzagging tractors looked -like painted toys, red and blue and yellow, I would have sworn under -oath that not one of them cast a shadow.</p> - -<p>The twenty-five or thirty human midgets who were moving in all -directions across the field, between machines that seemed too -formidable to be trusted had the brittle, sheen-bright look of figures -cut out of isinglass.</p> - -<p>Another illusion, of course. There had to be shadows, because there -was nothing on Mars that could have brought about that big a change in -the laws of optics. But by the same token the length and density of -shadows can be altered a bit by atmospheric conditions, making light -interception turn playful. So I didn't strain my eyes searching for -deep purple halos around the human midges.</p> - -<p>My only immediate concern was to reassure Joan in a calm and forceful -way and escort her safely down to ground level, without letting her -suspect that I shared her misgivings as to the stability of the spiral.</p> - -<p>It was ridiculous on the face of it. But, as I've said, you can't argue -with a feeling that whispers that your remote, dawn age ancestors must -have felt the same way when they climbed out on a limb overhanging a -precipice, and felt the whole tree begin to sway and shake beneath them.</p> - -<p>"Hold tight to the rail and don't look down," I cautioned. "There's -no real danger ... because a first-rate welding job was done on this -structure. Barring an earthquake, it should be just as safe a century -from now."</p> - -<p>I shot a quick, concerned glance at her along with the warning. I guess -I must have thought she'd be more shaken than she was, for she smiled -when she saw the look of surprise in my eyes. It took me half a minute -to realize that my guess as to how she'd be taking it hadn't gone so -wide of the mark. Her pallor gave her away.</p> - -<p>"A century would be much too long to wait," she breathed. "Another five -minutes would be too long. If it's going to collapse, I'd rather find -out right now."</p> - -<p>I nodded and we started down. Several other passengers had emerged from -the port and were looking up at the sky or downward as I'd done. Three -men and a woman had emerged ahead of us and were almost at the base of -the spiral. So far nothing had happened to them.</p> - -<p>I've often toyed with the thought that there may be windows in the mind -we can see out of sometimes—at oblique angles and around corners and -without turning our heads. I could visualize the passengers who were -descending behind us more clearly than you usually can in a mind's eye -picture. Each face was in sharp focus and there was no blurring of -their images as they moved. It was as if I was staring straight up at -them through a crystal-clear pane of glass.</p> - -<p>In that astonishingly bright inner vision—why look up and back when I -did not doubt its accuracy?—Commander Littlefield was wasting no time -in setting a good example. He'd descended the spiral so many times that -great height meant nothing to him. He'd be ascending and descending at -least ten more times just in the next few hours. But this was his big -moment. I could already picture him striding across the disembarkation -section to the Administration Unit with his shoulders held straight, -and announcing officially, with a ring of pride in his voice, that the -trip had been completed in record time, and the rocket had been berthed -successfully. He was descending now with a confident smile on his lips, -his Mars' legs buoyantly supporting him.</p> - -<p>Behind him came the small group who had been closest to us in space. -They were doing their best to stay calm, but there was a slight flicker -of apprehension in their eyes. Our section had been the first to -disembark, because Littlefield had agreed with me that it might have -seemed a little strange if I'd been accorded that privilege and it had -been denied to the others. Why give anyone who might have outwitted -every screening precaution the idea that I might be a man apart, with -so big a job awaiting me on Mars that getting started on it without -delay was damned important to me. It was natural enough for one or two -sections to be cleared fast and emerge with the Commander. But others -would have to await their turn in line and quarantine checkups could -drag along for hours.</p> - -<p>"It's funny how long it takes to get even a little lower when you're -this high up," Joan said, her fingers tightening on my arm. "We're not -anything like as high as when we started. But nothing down below looks -any larger."</p> - -<p>"We're not a fourth of the way down, and the human eye is a very poor -judge of distances," I said, reassuringly. "It would be better if you -let go of my arm and just kept your right hand on the rail. We sway -more this way."</p> - -<p>"When you look down from the observation roof of the North-Western -University Building you can see all of New Chicago, and practically -half of Lake Michigan," she complained breathlessly. "But it never made -me feel as giddy as this."</p> - -<p>"You had a firmer support under you," I said. "But not a safer one. -There's no danger at all. You can be absolutely sure of that. What -could happen to us?"</p> - -<p>It was one of those silly questions you sometimes ask when you want to -reassure someone you're a little concerned about. But a silly question -can sometimes be answered in a totally unexpected way—suddenly, -terribly and with explosive violence. It can be answered by a voice -of thunder out of the sky, or a wild, savage cry in the night, or in -a quieter way, but with just as terrifying an outcome. There are a -hundred cataclysms of nature which can give the lie to what you thought -was only a silliness.</p> - -<p>No matter where you are or how secure you feel, never ask what -could happen in a world where nothing is sure, where no one is ever -completely safe. Death is death. From end to end of his big estate may -be a lifetime's journey for some men. But he can cover the distance -with the speed of light, because Death is one space traveler—the only -one—who knows exactly how to outdistance light.</p> - -<p>Even if you're alone in a steel-walled vault it's a dangerous question -to ask. It's ten times as dangerous when you're descending a swaying -metal corkscrew forty million miles from Earth and there may be someone -eighty feet above you who has failed twice as Death's emissary and -would be covered with shame if it happened again.</p> - -<p>I felt hardly anything for an instant when the dart sliced deep into -the soft flesh between my shoulder blades. I didn't even know it was -a dart and kept right on walking. It was as if a bee had stung me—a -tired bee who couldn't sting very hard. There was just a little stab of -pain, a burning sensation that lasted less than a second.</p> - -<p>I felt it, all right. But it didn't startle me enough to stop me dead -in my tracks. A thing like that seldom does, if you're moving steadily -forward. It takes a second or two after you've felt the pain for the -implications to dawn on you.</p> - -<p>When they did the pain was back, and this time it was excruciating. -My whole shoulder was laced with fire, as if a red-hot iron had been -laid against it. If right at that moment I'd smelled an odor of burning -flesh I'd have been sure there could be no other explanation, despite -its transparent absurdity.</p> - -<p>Even then I kept right on walking. I staggered a little but I bit -down hard on my underlip to avoid crying out. I didn't want to alarm -Joan until I was sure. It could still have been just a very severe -muscular spasm—the kind of agonizing cramp that can hit you in the leg -sometimes in the middle of the night, so that you awake out of a deep -sleep bathed in cold sweat, and with your teeth chattering.</p> - -<p>That was what seemed to be happening now. My teeth started chattering -and I could feel sweat oozing out all over me. There was only one -difference. The pain was in my shoulder, not my leg, and it wasn't -easing up the way spasm pain does after a minute or two. It couldn't -have gotten worse, because it had been excruciating from the beginning. -But other things started getting worse fast. The burning sensation -spread to my lungs and my throat muscles started constricting, so that -every breath I drew was an agony.</p> - -<p>I couldn't pretend any longer, and I didn't try to. I went down on -my knees, clutching at my chest and swaying back against the rail. I -suppose I must have groaned or made some sort of sound, because Joan -swung about and was kneeling beside me in an instant, her face ashen.</p> - -<p>I must have looked terrible, or all of the color would not have drained -out of her face so fast, or her eyes gone quite so wide with alarm.</p> - -<p>I made a half-hearted try at straightening up, but only succeeded in -bringing my collapse closer to zero-count by sagging more heavily back -against the rail.</p> - -<p>"Darling, what is it? <i>Tell me!</i>" Her voice was demanding, wildly -insistent. "Please ... I've got to know. If it's your heart—"</p> - -<p>I shook my head. I went through a kind of little death just trying to -get a few words out. "Something struck me ... in the back. See ... what -it is. Feel around with your hand."</p> - -<p>"All right, darling. Just don't move. No—you'll have to lift yourself -up a little more. Try, darling. Your back's right against the rail."</p> - -<p>I did more than try. I helped her by gritting my teeth and flopping -over on my stomach. But the pain that lanced through my chest made me -almost black out for an instant.</p> - -<p>There was a clamor above us now, and I thought I heard Littlefield's -voice raised in a shout, followed by a scream of terror. Possibly -someone had seen me slump and jumped to the conclusion that the spiral -was collapsing.</p> - -<p>There was no chance of that, so I couldn't have cared less how close to -panic the people up above were. Right at the moment it didn't concern -me. I was only concerned with what Joan might find when her fingers -started probing. If a bullet had ploughed into me and her fingers came -away wetly red I'd know for sure whether it was as bad as I feared. It -helps to know, when there's a tormenting uncertainty in your mind along -with the physical pain.</p> - -<p>I could feel her hand fumbling with my shirt, getting it loosened. Then -they were moving up, down and across my back. Cautiously, gently, with -the nurselike competence which women usually manage to summon to their -aid in an emergency, no matter how shaken they are.</p> - -<p>After a moment her fingers stopped moving and she drew in her breath -sharply.</p> - -<p>Being in agony and on the verge of blacking out carries with it a -penalty. You can't always hear what someone close to you may be saying, -even when it's of life-and-death importance.</p> - -<p>I caught a few words, however, just enough to know it was a dart before -I lost consciousness. And her look told me what kind of dart it was.</p> - -<p>Or maybe it wasn't her look, just what I knew about darts in general. -The kind of dart that's in common use today as a weapon is quite unlike -the primitive blowgun darts of South American Indians a century ago. -Science, like everything else, progresses, especially in the field of -weapons. The modern dart is just as simple, in a way, but you take it -out of a wafer-thin metal case as you would a hypodermic needle and -you fit the three parts very carefully together and you use a liquid -propellant to blow it out of a very slender tube of gleaming metal. And -there's space in it for poison.</p> - -<p>It's handier, tidier than the small robot killers with their intricate -internal gadgetry, even though it requires precision aiming and you're -much more likely to be observed while you're taking aim, and be -compelled to pay the customary penalty for murder.</p> - -<p>I'd managed to roll back on my side, and lying then in agony, trying to -catch what Joan was saying, sort of telescoped all that for me, so that -it registered in my mind in a more rapid way than it does when you're -trying to explain it academically. Everything I knew about darts came -sweeping into my mind, and I remembered something else that helped to -explain the agony.</p> - -<p>The modern dart changes shape the instant it enters a man's body, -opening up like a pair of six-bladed scissors, cutting, slashing, -severing veins and muscles and nerve ganglions. And if it strikes an -artery—</p> - -<p>It doesn't even have to be a poisoned dart to kill a man. The feathered -part remains in the wound, only slightly embedded. But if you have any -sense you resist an impulse to pull it out, because when you do that -it's very difficult to stop the bleeding. It's a job for a skilled -surgeon and Joan's look told me that there was no time to be lost. The -wisest thing I could do was to put my complete trust in Commander -Littlefield. The quicker he got one of the passengers or a crewman to -help him carry me down to ground level and bundle me into an ambulance -the better my chances would be.</p> - -<p>Joan seemed to be one jump ahead of me, for she leapt up quickly -and started back up the spiral. She didn't even press my hand in -reassurance, but that was all right with me. I knew why she hadn't. -Every second counted, and she loved me too much to be anything but -firmly practical about it.</p> - -<p>I remember thinking, just before I blacked out, <i>how adequate are the -hospital facilities here? And what about the surgeons? Oh God, what if -they are fifth-raters, what if the hospital is understaffed? What if -they bungle it, but good?</i></p> - -<p>When you black out and stay blacked out for a long period, questions -like that lose most of their tormenting aspects. You may still feel -emotionally disturbed by them, when the darkness lifts a little and -you remember having asked yourself questions someone somewhere should -have answered—if you'd only stayed around long enough to make a lot -of friends and influence people and make them eager to oblige you in -every possible way. But it isn't too disturbing, because you can't even -remember what the questions were.</p> - -<p>The trouble was ... I didn't stay blacked out. Not completely. I woke -up at intervals and heard snatches of conversation and I even saw—the -Mars Colony.</p> - -<p>I saw quite a bit of the Colony before they eased me down in a hospital -bed, and covered me with warm blankets and I blacked out again.</p> - -<p>I saw the streets I'd traveled forty million miles to visit, and the -people I'd come to make friends with, and the kids in their space -helmets, looking precisely as they did on Earth. (What further frontier -did they hope to explore ... Alpha Centauri or just one of the giant -outer planets?) I saw the prefabricated metal buildings, four, eight -and twenty stories high, with their slanting roofs, rust-red and -verdigris-green blue in the early morning sunlight and the stores -that were all glass and the strange looking supermarkets with their -almost cathedral-like domes. And just for good measure, eight or ten -bar-flanked streets with big parking lots where the bars gave way -to barracks that straggled out into the desert and had a primitive, -twentieth century, shanty-town look.</p> - -<p>There were people everywhere, but when you're propped up on a cot in -a speeding ambulance you can't tell whether the people who go flying -past look just the way people do on Earth, or have a more robust, -happier look. Or a more restless and discontented look. It's even -hard to tell whether young people or middle-aged people predominate, -or just how many very old people there are. Or how many infants in -arms, except that there did seem to be an exceptionally large number -of children, either being wheeled or carried or toddling along in the -wake of their parents, or playing games with the fierce competitiveness -of twelve-year-olds in fenced-in sand lots which no one had taken the -trouble to pave.</p> - -<p>There were theaters too—places of amusement, anyway—which you could -tell featured lively entertainment just from the gaudy blue and yellow -posters on their facades.</p> - -<p>That there were machines clattering past goes without saying. A -tremendous amount of new construction was under way in every part of -the Colony and if you just say "Mars" in a word association test one -man or woman in three will come right back with "Machinery."</p> - -<p>There were pipes, too—huge and branching, big, shining metal tubes -that arched above buildings and ran parallel with almost every street -in the Colony. A tremendous brood of writhing snakes was what they -reminded me of—the artificial kind that kids delight in scaring people -with at birthday parties, all mottled over with the bronze sheen of -copperheads, but looking more like boa constrictors in their tremendous -girth.</p> - -<p>Another kind of snake image flashed into my mind as I stared out -through the windows of the ambulance at that interlocking power-fuel -network. It came swimming right out of the history books I'd poured -over in fascination when I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Sure, they -were Diamond Back rattlesnakes and the Mars Colony was right out of the -Old West of covered-wagon and gold-prospecting days.</p> - -<p>Of course it wasn't, because the twenty-first century technology had -made it completely modern in some respects. But it was like the Old -West in a good many other ways. It had the same rugged, mirage-bright -pioneer look, as if the desert sands were blowing right into the heart -of the colony, swirling about, filling the windy places and the sand -lots where the kids were playing with a haze that could just as easily -have been gold dust that some careless, giant-size prospector had -spilled by accident when he'd brought it in from the hills for weighing.</p> - -<p>Actually, there's nothing on Earth or Mars that can completely shatter -that cyclic aspect of history. There's nothing so new that you can look -at it and say, "There's nothing of the past here. The break is complete -and the past is gone forever and can never return again."</p> - -<p>It's just not true. The past does return, shining brightly beneath the -bold new pattern, the daring new way of life that Man likes to think he -has chiseled from a block of marble that human hands have never touched -or human eyes rested upon before.</p> - -<p>There's no such block of marble in all the universe of stars. Not -really, because what Man can visualize he has already seen and it -has become a part of his heritage and the past of that heritage goes -flowing into it and he starts off with a veined monolith that is -brimming over with human memory patterns, with not a few buried deep in -the stone.</p> - -<p>But I've forgotten to mention the most important aspect of everything -I saw through the windows of that speeding ambulance. It was ... the -blurred aspect, the way everything kept changing shape and disappearing -and pinwheeling at times. It wasn't surprising, because the agony was -still with me and I saw everything in fitful starts, in brief flashes, -between bouts of blacking out and coming to and blacking out again. But -what I did see I saw clearly, with the heightened awareness that often -accompanies almost unbearable pain. When white-hot needles of pain are -jabbing at your nerves a strange, almost blinding kind of illumination -seems to sweep into the brain. But instead of blinding you it makes -everything stand out with a startling clarity and you can think clearly -too, and even speculate about what you've seen.</p> - -<p>It's as if you were caught up in a kind of sharper-than-life dream -sequence, or sitting in a darkened theater watching events take place -on a dazzlingly bright screen. You may be doubled up with pain, but -you keep your eyes on the screen and very little that is happening -to the actors and actresses on a dramatic level is lost on you. You -even notice small details of background scenery that would escape -your attention ordinarily, and exactly what kind of clothes the -actresses are wearing. Light summer dresses with plunging necklines or -tight-fitting, form-molded swim suits—things you can't help noticing -even when you're doubled up with pain. It's why most of us fight to -stay alive, because Nature has made us that way to keep us from letting -go of the one thing that makes us stay in the pitcher's box when Death -is batting a thousand.</p> - -<p>Putting that much stress just on the engendering of life may be a trick -and a snare, when Death has set so cruel a trap for the winners, but -you seldom hear anyone complaining about it. It takes an awful lot -of grief and despair and pain to make anyone angrily resent the sex -snare, and take to eulogizing Death instead.</p> - -<p>It wasn't the reason everything I saw through the windows of the -ambulance registered so sharply in fitful flashes, because I had <i>that</i> -right at my side. Joan was holding my hand and squeezing it and I only -had to turn my head to make me just about the toughest adversary Death -ever had. But what I said about the lighted cinema screen still holds. -What I did see, I saw with eyes that missed very little. And between -the bouts of blacking out the snatches of conversation I overheard came -to me just as distinctly.</p> - -<p>Part of the time it was a woman's voice I heard and I knew it had to be -Joan's voice, because there was no other woman in the ambulance with -me. But she wasn't talking to me. She was talking to one of the two men -in white who were sitting opposite me. They seemed about a half-mile -away most of the time, but occasionally the long bench they were -sitting on floated a little closer.</p> - -<p>The conversation, as I've said, came to me in snatches and it could -hardly have been called a running dialogue. The continuity alone would -have gotten a professional script writer fired, no matter how brilliant -he was otherwise.</p> - -<p>The only way I can whip it into shape is by recording it as if it were -continuous, filling in the part I overheard between blackouts with what -I didn't hear—staying close enough to what was probably being said to -keep the script writer on the job and eating.</p> - -<p>I'm pretty sure this is a fairly accurate re-write.</p> - -<p>Joan: What kind of a hospital is it? I'm sorry, I ... I guess I -shouldn't have asked you that. You're on the staff. No matter how frank -you might want to be....</p> - -<p>Doctor Mile-Away: If I thought it wasn't a good hospital I wouldn't -say so, naturally. But it happens to match up very well with the eight -or ten you'd want him to be taken to Earthside, if you had a choice. -The facilities are first-rate, completely up to date. There are four -surgeons I'd trust my life to with equal confidence ... and one of them -happens to be my dad.</p> - -<p>Joan: I hope to God he gets one of them.</p> - -<p>Doctor: There are only four surgeons. We don't get too many surgical -cases in the Colony—not nearly as many as you might think. There's as -much violence here, perhaps, as there is in New Chicago but it takes a -different form. We can't keep atomic hand-guns out of criminal hands as -easily as you can in New Chicago, because the lawless element in the -Colony has more socio-political power and can get more weapons in that -destructive category smuggled in. As you know, an atomic hand-gun has -a very limited destructive potential, since there's no fallout and it -can only kill a man standing directly in its path. But when it does ... -there isn't much margin left for surgery.</p> - -<p>Joan: You mean <i>criminals</i> are in control here?</p> - -<p>Doctor: Oh, it's not quite that bad. Possibly about one colonist in -twenty has dangerous criminal tendencies. The proportion is larger here -only because it's a new society, with a pioneering outlook. You might -call it a wolf-eat-wolf society. On Earth the dog-eat-dog tendencies -will probably never be completely eradicated but we've gone a long way -in that respect just in the last half-century. Here we have further to -go, because the dogs are still wolves.</p> - -<p>Joan: Will you ever tame them? My husband may be dying right here; that -doesn't look so tame! I think your Mars Colony is a filthy jungle!</p> - -<p>Doctor: I didn't have much time to talk with Commander Littlefield. But -from what <i>he</i> said I'm pretty sure you don't really feel that way. -I don't know why you and your husband are here, but the Colonization -Board seldom gives clearance to people who feel that way about the -future of the Colony. In fact ... I can't remember ever having met a -man or woman who managed to deceive the Board, because the screening -is the opposite of superficial. They go into your past history, I -understand, and give you psychological tests I'm not even sure I could -pass, convinced as I am that the Colony is still Man's best hope in a -world where to stand still is always disastrous. There's no other sane -solution to the population problem, just to mention one of the fifty or -sixty major problems we'll have to solve or perish in in the next two -centuries. I have my moments of doubt and cynicism....</p> - -<p>Joan: You should be having one right now. How would <i>you</i> feel if you -were taking your wife to the hospital for an emergency operation and -didn't know whether she was going to live or die? Suppose it was your -wife instead of my husband? We didn't even have time to set foot in the -Colony. If there's that much danger before you even—</p> - -<p>Doctor: Just hold on a minute. Let's get this straightened out right -now. It will make you feel better. No one in the Colony tried to kill -your husband. That dart was aimed at him from above—by one of the -passengers. They're all being held for questioning and if the firing -mechanism is found on one of them—</p> - -<p>That, for me, was the end of the dialogue. But just before I blacked -out for the last time I saw a sign high up over one of the buildings. -It read: WENDEL ATOMICS.</p> - -<p>And I went down into the darkness with that sign flashing in big -illuminated letters right in the middle of the darkness. WENDEL -ATOMICS. WENDEL. WENDEL ATOMICS. And in much smaller letters, which -were not nearly as bright: <i>Endicott Fuel</i>.</p> - -<p>The big letters growing larger, brighter ... the small letters -dwindling.</p> - -<p>Just as I felt myself to be dwindling ... as I passed deeper and deeper -into the darkness.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c10" id="c10">10</a></h2> - - -<p>"He's a big man," I heard a woman's voice say. "It took every ounce of -my strength to lift him. But he had to be moved to the edge of the bed, -doctor. The sheets had to be changed."</p> - -<p>A whirling in my head, needles darting in and out. I had to strain my -ears to catch what another voice was saying in reply. It was a man's -voice, but gruff, deep-throated and somehow less distinct than the -first voice. Perhaps Gruff Voice was standing further from the bed. Or -possibly he didn't want me to hear what he was telling the nurse.</p> - -<p>She had to be a nurse, because Gruff Voice wasn't addressing her -by name. He wasn't calling her Miss Hadley or Miss Betty Anne -Simpson-Cruickshank. He was saying "Nurse this," and "Nurse that" and -speaking with crisp authority, as if there was a gulf between a nurse -and a doctor which even the kindliest, least hidebound of physicians -had no right to ignore.</p> - -<p>I rather liked his voice, gruff as it was. He spoke with the air of a -man who knew his business, with a kind of restrained sympathy—the "no -nonsense" approach. Too much calm self-assurance can be irritating, -because it usually goes with the inflated egos of people who think very -highly of themselves. But in a doctor you don't object to that sort of -thing so much.</p> - -<p>"He's waking up," Gruff Voice was saying. "Just let him rest and don't -encourage him to talk. No more sedation—he won't need it. Did you take -his temperature, Nurse?"</p> - -<p>"Just ten minutes ago, Doctor. It's on the chart. I always—"</p> - -<p>"Put it down immediately? Who do you think you're kidding, Susan, -my love? Once in awhile you put it off, when this kind of emergency -case makes you wish you had a dozen pairs of hands. You put if off -for fifteen or twenty minutes, when you've no reason to think some -white-coated drum major is going to barge in unexpectedly, just to lean -on you. Did you ever know me to lean, Susan—heavily or otherwise? -You're doing the best you can and it's a very good 'best.' I wish we -had more 'bests' like it."</p> - -<p>"I do feel ... sort of wobbly, Roger. I deserve to be leaned on, -because once you start feeling that way you're no longer at peak -efficiency and you become nervously over-scrupulous. That's both good -and bad, if you know what I mean."</p> - -<p>"What did you expect, Susan? I could have had a nurse in here to -relieve you hours ago if you hadn't been so stubborn. You've been -worrying your cute blonde head off without stopping to rest for sixteen -hours, and you never set eyes on the guy before this morning. What is -there about some men—"</p> - -<p>"It was touch and go, Roger. You said yourself that a little of the -poison got into his blood. You told me a tenth of a cc would have been -fatal."</p> - -<p>"That was when I first looked at the lab analysis and took the -gloomiest possible view of his chances. I didn't even know you heard -me. Damn it all, Susan. Can't a doctor think out loud without giving -his most competent nurse a martyr complex? What is there about him? I'm -asking you. If he wasn't married I could perhaps understand it. I could -at least make a stab at trying to figure it out. But you've seen his -wife. A man with a wife as attractive as she is would have to be even -more susceptible than I am to look twice at another woman. That's just -another way of saying it couldn't happen."</p> - -<p>"I've had two long talks with her, Roger. She loves him so much that -if anything happened to him I'm afraid to think what she might do. All -alone on Mars, with no close relatives or friends to turn to for help -and warmth and comfort. She'd need a lot of support, because there's -nothing shallow about her. She's the intense type, very deep in her -emotions. I'm that way myself."</p> - -<p>"You don't have to tell me," I could hear him saying. "You're the -empathy-plus type. It's what makes a good many otherwise sensible women -embrace the toughest profession on the list. Hard-boiled, unemotional -women make good nurses too. But I prefer the kind of nurse you can't -help being. Only ... a little moderation even in people who go all out -can be a saving grace."</p> - -<p>"But don't you see, Roger? It means I can identify with her. I know -exactly how terrible the uncertainty must be for her, because if I -loved a man that much and lost him I'd probably go right out and kill -myself. If you want the full truth ... there's probably a little of -the male-female absurdity mixed up in it too. It's an absurdity in a -situation like this, where it makes no sense. But just the fact that -he's a man and I'm a woman—"</p> - -<p>"Talk like that will get you nowhere," he said. "I'm too sure of you."</p> - -<p>There was a rustling sound and a sudden gasp and I was pretty sure I -knew what it meant. He'd taken her into his arms and was kissing her. -I don't know why I didn't open my eyes. I was fully awake now, aware -of every movement in the room. But I just remained quiet and listened, -grateful that the needles had stopped jabbing at my temples and my -dizziness was practically gone.</p> - -<p>Sometimes when you awake suddenly from a deep sleep your eyes feel -glued shut, and it takes an effort just to open them. You let it ride -for a moment, while you pull yourself together ... especially if it's a -nightmare you've just awakened from. There's a kind of pleasure in it.</p> - -<p>He was talking again. "I've yet to meet a woman who doesn't think that -clinical self-analysis will keep a man guessing about her. But that -kind of candor will get you nowhere with me, kiddo. I know you too -well. Are you convinced?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said, with a meekness that surprised me.</p> - -<p>He didn't say anything for a moment, but I could hear him moving about -and a metallic click, as if he were folding up his stethoscope or -returning a hypodermic to its case.</p> - -<p>A sound like that is always a little unnerving and an operating table -and a long row of gleaming instruments flashed evanescently across -my mind. I wondered how bad it was and if Martian hospitals were -well-equipped, and had just the right facilities to take care of an -emergency case requiring major surgery.</p> - -<p>But he'd said I was out of danger, hadn't he ... that I didn't even -need more sedation? Sure he had. I'd been stabbed with a poisoned -dart, but that didn't mean I'd have to go on the operating table. They -would never have let the dart stay inside me. If an operation had been -needed, it would have been performed immediately....</p> - -<p>Perhaps it had. Well, to hell with it. I was out of danger now and -beginning to mend and that was the only thing that counted. It had been -touch and go, she'd said. And Joan loved me so much that....</p> - -<p>Hold on tight to that, Ralphie boy. It's the best news you'll ever -hear, even though you knew it all along, were sure of it on the day you -married her. What they didn't know and would have to guess about was -the feeling of oneness we had whenever we were together.</p> - -<p>I let that ride too, sweet as it was to dwell upon, and thought about -how mistaken I'd been about the doctor. He wasn't the kind of guy -I'd thought him. The "nurse this, nurse that" talk had been either a -performance, put on for my benefit just in case I was a little more -than semiconscious or—a routine, quickly-dropped formality.</p> - -<p>The second supposition seemed the most likely. A kind of ritual they -went through from habit, and because it's more ethical to keep a -doctor-nurse relationship on a formal plane when the patient is under -clinical scrutiny. After that, they could relax and be human.</p> - -<p>I had no complaint, because I liked both aspects of Gruff Voice's -personality. That I liked the nurse goes without saying, not only -because of what she'd said about Joan, but because of a certain -something....</p> - -<p>All right. Gruff Voice had said that he was susceptible beyond the -average and so was I. A sweet soft woman bending over you, denying -herself sleep just to make sure you'll stay alive, doing her best to -ease your pain, sort of ... does things to you. It had nothing to do -with the way I felt about Joan. It wasn't actual disloyalty ... didn't -come within a mile of disloyalty. It was just the man-woman absurdity -she'd mentioned, only ... it wasn't an absurdity and never had been.</p> - -<p>It may be a hard thing for a woman to understand, sometimes. But it's -never hard for a man to understand, if he's honest with himself and -knows just how powerful the mating impulse can be in human beings. -Call it sex attraction if you want to, but when you've called it that -it's important to remember that the mating impulse is the basic, -anthropological prime mover. Sex is simply its <i>modus operandi</i>. On -Earth and on Mars, whenever a normal man and a normal woman are in -close proximity, even for ten or twelve seconds, the mating impulse -starts unwinding. On another planet of another star the <i>modus -operandi</i> may not be sex as we know it, but something quite different, -if you can imagine another way of choosing a mate, building a home, and -filling it with healthy, happy children.</p> - -<p>It's a coiled-spring, trigger-mechanism kind of impulse and neither the -man nor the woman have to be attracted to each other on the personality -level, unless you want to be technical and regard the purely physical -as an attribute of personality. They can be young or old, plain or good -looking. Some attraction will be present, even under the most adverse -circumstances. But when the woman is young and beautiful and the -personality level warm and appealing you'll be deceiving yourself if -you think the impulse can be kept from arising just because you already -have a mate you're desperately in love with.</p> - -<p>You can conquer the impulse if you try hard enough and your love for -someone else is strong enough. That's what is meant by loyalty. But you -can't keep the impulse from arising and it makes no sense at all to -feel guilty about it.</p> - -<p>The human brain is a resourceful instrument and there are a dozen ways -of keeping a tight grip on your nerves when you wake up on a hospital -cot and hear unfamiliar voices talking about you. I chose the way that -was most natural to me. I concentrated on the scientific construct -I've just summarized, letting my mind glide over, and play around with -it for a minute or two and telling myself that I must thank the nurse -for all that she had done for me. When Gruff Voice left there would be -a glow, a brief moment of warmth between us that might have become a -high-leaping flame if I hadn't been in love with Joan and she hadn't -been carrying a torch for Gruff Voice.</p> - -<p>I wasn't even sure she was beautiful, but it seemed likely, because you -can tell a great deal about a woman just from the sound of her voice. -Even if she bent over and kissed me, her eyes shining a little because -she'd helped me outdistance Death a yard from the finish line and was -feeling grateful and thrilled about it ... well, that would have been -all right too. I didn't think Joan or the man who had just taken her -into his arms would have held that kind of kiss against us.</p> - -<p>I had the feeling that Gruff Voice was a generous-minded, all right -guy, and if an operation had been necessary to save my life he'd done -his best to increase my chances with all of the surgical know-how at -his command.</p> - -<p>Just that thought made me decide to open my eyes and try to raise -myself a little, because he had a right to know how grateful I felt.</p> - -<p>He was just going through the door. I could see that he was tall, blond -and rather sturdily built, but a wave of dizziness made me sink back -against the pillows again before I could get a really good look at him. -It's hard to tell what a man looks like anyway, when he's facing away -from you, and you can only see his disappearing shoulders and the back -of his head.</p> - -<p>When I opened my eyes for the second time, a full minute later, the -eyes that looked back at me were just as I'd pictured them. A deep, -lustrous brown. Her face was very much as I'd pictured it too, except -that I'd no way of knowing whether she was a blonde or a brunette. She -looked a little like Joan. Her hair was done up in a different way, and -her lips were a little fuller than Joan's and her cheekbones not quite -so prominent. Her nose, too, was a fraction of an inch shorter. But -otherwise she could have passed for Joan's sister. Not a twin sister, -for the resemblance wasn't anything like that pronounced. But it was -close to the family likeness you see quite often in portraits of two -sisters when one is smiling and the other looks seriously troubled.</p> - -<p>It flashed across my mind that if they had been standing side by side, -both wearing the same expression, the resemblance would have been -considerably more striking.</p> - -<p>It shouldn't have surprised me too much, because of what she'd said -to the doctor. Women who think and feel in much the same way are very -likely to bear a family resemblance physically. It's the sort of thing -which makes an anthropologist shake his head in vigorous denial. But -facts are facts and who was I to dispute them?</p> - -<p>"Just lie quiet," she whispered, patting me on the shoulder. "Dr. -Crawford says you mustn't try to talk. You're going to be all right. -I'm Miss Cherubin, your day nurse."</p> - -<p>She smiled, her eyes crinkling a little at the corners. "You should -have a night nurse too, but I've been staying on in her place."</p> - -<p>Cherubin. An angel? No—cherubim was spelt with an "M." And she wasn't -<i>that</i> young or quite as rosy-cheeked as cherubs are supposed to be.</p> - -<p>What made it really tragic was my inability to reach out and touch her -or ask her a single question, because right at that moment another wave -of dizziness swept over me and I blacked out again.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c11" id="c11">11</a></h2> - - -<p>Right at this point there has to be a shift in the way I've been -recording events as they happened, because what happened next took -place elsewhere, while I was flat on my back in the hospital. By "what -happened next" I mean ... to me and Joan personally and to Commander -Littlefield and the Martian Colonization Board and everything I'd come -to Mars to take cognizance of, and do my best to change for the better.</p> - -<p>I know, I know. Ten million separate events are taking place all the -time on Earth and on Mars and by no stretch of the imagination could -they be thought of as an immediate part of this record. But when -the threads all start to draw together and tighten about you in a -destiny-altering way you have to keep the time-sequence in order and -record developments as they take place. Otherwise when they become of -immediate concern later on the entire picture will seem out of focus. -The frame will start lengthening out and the people in the picture will -be out-of-kelter also, and scattered all over the landscape. The only -way you can keep them sharply in focus is to record what happens to -them <i>when</i> it happens.</p> - -<p>It shouldn't be too difficult, because there's a seeing eye that hovers -over the Mars' Colony day and night. The big Time-Space eye that -records everything that takes place in the universe, so that nothing -is ever really lost beyond re-capture. The past, the present and the -future keep flickering, in a backward-forward way, across that immense -retina, and some day a technique may be developed for running history -off in reverse and you'll see events that took place thousands of years -ago as if they were happening today on a lighted screen.</p> - -<p>So ... let's look through that Big Eye straight down at the Mars -Colony, you and I together. And remember. In this particular instance -we won't need a history-reversing gimmick at all, because what we'll -see and hear is NOW. It starts as a two-person conversation:</p> - -<p>"John, I'm frightened. What if the insulation isn't absolutely -foolproof? What if one of those Endicott Fuel containers isn't -shielded in just the right way? Suppose the radio-active stuff inside -builds up to what the nuclear physicists call critical mass and there's -an atomic explosion? Blowups have happened ... even in the Endicott -Laboratories under the strictest kind of supervision."</p> - -<p>"Now look. There's not the slightest danger. Do you think for one -moment Endicott would take that big a risk—even though Wendel has the -entire combine backed into a corner?"</p> - -<p>"They'd take any kind of risk now, because they have no choice. John, -if you were going to give me another baby you'd have given me fair -warning. I could have steeled myself to endure the harshness and -unfairness of it. But when you bring death home with you—"</p> - -<p>The woman had been very pretty once. You could see that just by -glancing at her. But now her face had a drawn, haggard look and her -pallor was more than pronounced. It verged on grayness. Her hair was -thinning and turning white and only her eyes remained lustrous, truly -alive, as if all that remained of the woman she had once been had -been drawn to a focus in the gaze she was training on her husband in -desperate appeal.</p> - -<p>"Why did you do it, John? You're not just endangering your life and -mine. If we didn't have four children ... maybe I wouldn't be talking -this way."</p> - -<p>"I told you I was forced into it, didn't I? Wendel is calling -Endicott's bluff. We can no longer go on buying Endicott fuel cylinders -openly on margin, hundreds of them and letting all of them stay in -Wendel's custody, because we don't really own them at all. The price -goes up or the price goes down and we sell out and buy again—and we're -supposed to own four-fifths of the Endicott Combine. But there's not -a single Colonist who owns the equivalent of four or five cylinders -outright. I don't own these six cylinders. But I had to bring them home -with me."</p> - -<p>"I just don't understand why. It's too complicated for me. A nuclear -explosion would be much easier for me to understand."</p> - -<p>"All right ... I'll go over it again. But try to listen more carefully -this time. Before this big, cut-throat war started only one man -suspected that one of the two competing combines might try to sell -its fluid property to the Colonists on margin. They were supposed to -cooperate, not compete, because it was thought that Wendel couldn't -possibly keep its nuclear generators operating without fuel. It can't, -of course, but only one man suspected that Endicott might refuse to be -dwarfed by Wendel in a sharp-practice duel and fight to stay big and -powerful by letting the Colonists buy and sell fuel on speculation. -That would put the Colonists right in the middle, don't you see?"</p> - -<p>"Yes ... I do," the woman who had once been almost beautiful said. -"Thank you for giving me credit for having that much intelligence. You -seem to forget that I have a fairly good memory too. We've gone over -this a hundred times."</p> - -<p>"Sure we have. But it doesn't seem to have made too deep an impression -on you. You can sum it all up by saying that <i>on paper</i>, from day to -day, it's the Colonists who now own the Endicott Combine, or most -of it. So it's the Colonists who are carrying the battle directly -to Wendel, fighting for the right to go on wildcatting, to get rich -overnight or end up pauperized. It's wildcatting in a sense, just as -it was when oil instead of atomic fuel was the big prize to be fought -over Earthside. When a Colonist buys Endicott fuel cylinders on margin, -it's practically the same as if he were digging an oil well in his own -backyard."</p> - -<p>"Go on, John," the woman said wearily.</p> - -<p>"There's that much uncertainty in it, don't you see? And he's really -doing it entirely single-handed and on his own, because he's digging in -what is practically a paper graveyard in some respects, unless he's one -of the lucky ones. Endicott keeps the fuel. It doesn't go out of their -hands. But Wendel still has to buy it directly from the Colonists, who -are supposed to own it, and the price fluctuations keep Wendel from -becoming all-powerful and Endicott from going under or being dwarfed.</p> - -<p>"In the main, it's the Colonists who have most to gain by keeping -Endicott powerful and solvent ... although the battle lines aren't so -tightly drawn that it doesn't become profitable, at times, to go over -to the Wendel side. There's a lot of sniping between the lines."</p> - -<p>"I know all that, John."</p> - -<p>"Well, here's what it all boils down to, what you didn't seem to grasp. -You asked me why I brought these six cylinders home. It's because -of the one man who did suspect, right from the first, and when the -charters were drawn up, that a war of this kind might be waged. I can't -even tell you his name. He was probably a minor legal expert or auditor -employed by the Board, who had shrewd prophetic gifts ... enough -foresight, at least ... to insert in fine print in both of the charters -a provision that Wendel is now using to call Endicott's bluff.</p> - -<p>"That provision doesn't say that Endicott can't sell some of their -fluid assets on margin. But it sets a limit to that kind of speculative -buying and selling. The same limit would apply to Wendel, but Wendel -has no fluid assets to sell on margin, and it can't very well break -up its generators and big transmission lines and sell them to the -Colonists piecemeal, even on margin. It wouldn't look right, because -you can't pretend that a fragment of a pipe that is still being -operated by a combine is a speculative commodity that has passed into -other hands and is subject to day-to-day fluctuations.</p> - -<p>"If you want to think of fluid assets as simply a share in a Combine's -profits, that's another matter. But I'm not talking about that kind of -fluid asset. Endicott has been selling to the Colonists in a literal -sense—<i>moveable fluid assets</i>. And in fine print in the Endicott -charter it says that Endicott can only sell about a third of its fuel -cylinders on margin. The others have to be purchased outright and -carried home and held by the purchaser until the price is right and he -can dispose of them at a profit. Or sell at a loss, as property."</p> - -<p>"But you say you didn't buy those cylinders outright. How could you -have done that?" the woman protested. "Just one cylinder would cost—a -third of a million dollars."</p> - -<p>"Naturally I didn't buy them outright. I bought them on margin. But -Wendel can't prove that. Endicott is covering up for me and because -I've brought them home and can slap my hand on the cool metal and tell -Wendel to go to hell if they try to dispute my ownership—Endicott -still has a chance to come out on top. Wendel is calling Endicott's -bluff, sure. But Endicott is countering with another bluff and they can -make it stick. Their auditing department knows just how to do that. -So every Colonist who wants to go on wildcatting now has to bring a -few cylinders home, to make it look as if he'd bought them outright. -Possession puts you nine-tenths on the winning side in any legal -argument. You ought to know that!"</p> - -<p>"Ought I? Just suppose I did. Would that stop me from becoming -terrified, when I know exactly what could happen if the metal isn't -as cool as you hope it will be when you slap your hand on it, and the -Wendel police stay cold-blooded about it, and wait around for the -fissionable material inside to reach critical mass."</p> - -<p>"You know damn well it would take an awful lot of accidental jarring -and jolting to trigger a fuel cylinder and make it blow up. It probably -couldn't happen, <i>except</i> in a laboratory where they're careless about -such things because of overconfidence."</p> - -<p>"Dinner's on the table," the woman said. "We may as well go back into -the house while we've still got a home, and gather the children around -us, and tell them a few more lies about what the future is going to -be like in the Colony, now that one father in three will be bringing -nuclear fuel cylinders home with him."</p> - -<p>The man—his name was John Lynton—nodded and they returned into the -pre-fab. Lynton preceded his wife into the dwelling and the woman -paused for an instant in the doorway to stare back at the long metal -shed where the six cylinders were reposing ... letting her gaze take -in as well the double row of foot-high cactus plants which encircled -the yard and the sun-reddened stretch of open desert beyond. Then she -let the door swing shut behind her, and turned to face her four hungry -children.</p> - -<p>One thought alone sustained Grace Lynton at that moment. There had -never been any need, so far, for the children to go to bed hungry. -Their hunger was due solely to the demands of healthy young appetites -when dinner was a little delayed and they had been playing strenuously -in the yard all afternoon or going on exploring expeditions.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c12" id="c12">12</a></h2> - - -<p>They were all downstairs now, waiting to be fed, hardy perennials like -all children everywhere. Thomas with his shining morning face—it -seemed to stay that way right up until bedtime—and Susan, seven, and -still doll-wedded, and the twins, Hedy and Louise. Three girls and one -boy, and Grace Lynton felt a little sorry for her son at times, until -she remembered that a boy of thirteen isn't troubled by too many girls -in a family when he's seven or eight years their senior. The girls were -simply very young children to him and he was—well, right next door at -least to being grown up.</p> - -<p>"All right," John Lynton said, seating himself at the head of the -table. "Let's fall to and see who gets through first."</p> - -<p>"Did you have a tough day, Dad?" Thomas asked, reaching for a knife and -fork, and drawing a still steaming serving bowl toward him. His unruly -hair was so blond it seemed almost white and there was a double row of -freckles across the bridge of his nose.</p> - -<p>The other three children were brunettes, with hair ranging in color -from chestnut brown to jet black. Even the twins did not closely -resemble each other, as non-identical twins so often fail to do.</p> - -<p>"Don't annoy your father with questions now, Thomas ... please," Grace -Lynton said.</p> - -<p>"Why not?" Lynton asked, frowning at his wife. "I did have a tough day -and there's no sense in soft-pedaling it. Sometimes I almost wish we -hadn't come to Mars. No matter how rigorous a Board screening is ... -there are some things it can't tell you about yourself. Will you make a -good father on a world without trees or grass, with no way of getting -out into the green countryside and sitting down on the moss-covered -bank of a trout stream, with your kid at your side and having a heart -to heart talk with him in the cool shade of a big oak or cedar."</p> - -<p>"The stew's good, Mom," Thomas said. "Is it all right if I fill up my -plate again?"</p> - -<p>"Did I ever say you couldn't, Thomas?" Grace Lynton snapped, unable -to keep irritation out of her voice, despite her son's compliment. -"There'll never be any food shortages in this house, if we have to sell -all of the furniture."</p> - -<p>"Leave enough for me, Thomas," Hedy Lynton said.</p> - -<p>"Don't worry, I will," Thomas said. "But if you keep on eating the way -you do you'll grow up fat, and no man in the Colony will marry a fat -woman when there are so many thin ones."</p> - -<p>"That's very well put, Thomas," Lynton said. "I have a brilliant -son—practically a genius. But don't let it go to your head, boy. -Unless you're in the electronic field or have some other technical -specialty a straightforward, rugged he-man can do more for the Colony."</p> - -<p>"What kind of talk is that, John?" Grace Lynton demanded. "There's -nothing unmanly about a genius, in any field."</p> - -<p>"No, I suppose not. But I wouldn't want him to be a poet or a painter. -They just stand back and observe life and I'd like to see my son wade -in fighting."</p> - -<p>The daylight outside had started fading before Lynton and his wife had -returned indoors. But now the quickly-arriving Mars' night was almost -at hand, and the twilight had deepened outside and was giving way to -complete darkness at the edge of the desert.</p> - -<p>The two adults and four children seated about the table hadn't once -glanced toward the window, for the food and contentious conversation -had absorbed all of their attention.</p> - -<p>It was Thomas who saw the light first, flickering on and off close to -the shed. He had always wanted, deep down, in a secret way that he -had never dared to discuss with anyone, to be an artist and paint at -least a hundred pictures that would show the people who looked at them -exactly what life on Mars was like. And his father's gaze, trained -upon him in such a steady way, had made him squirm inwardly, as if his -secret might at any moment be exposed. To avoid his father's gaze he'd -looked straight out the window and seen the strange light flickering on -and off.</p> - -<p>"Dad!" he said.</p> - -<p>"What is it, son?"</p> - -<p>"There's a light moving around out in the yard, close to the shed."</p> - -<p>If Thomas had suddenly toppled over dead his father could not have -leapt up from the table with more horror in his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Why ... why ... Good God! Wendel wouldn't go <i>that</i> far! It would be -an act of madness!"</p> - -<p>"John, you don't think—"</p> - -<p>Thomas' mother was on her feet too now, her face drained of all color, -her eyes darting to the window and back to the tight-lipped, violently -trembling man at the head of the table. John Lynton's face had gone as -white as her own.</p> - -<p>For a minute Thomas thought that his father was going to rush right out -into the yard and grab hold of the intruder, as fast as he'd leapt up -from the table. Then he saw he'd guessed wrong about that.</p> - -<p>Lynton crossed the room in five long strides, swung open the weapon -locker and grabbed hold of a holstered hand-gun instead. He strapped -the holster to his waist before whipping out the weapon and snapping -off the safety mechanism.</p> - -<p>He was starting for the door when Grace Lynton called out warningly: -"John, don't! <i>John!</i>"</p> - -<p>He swung about, staring at her in consternation. "Don't what? If -they've tampered with those cylinders I'll make sure they won't live to -blow up another man's home—or half the Colony!"</p> - -<p>"You can't blast them down!" Her voice rose shrilly. "No, John! A -hand-gun blast that close to a fuel cylinder would set off a chain -reaction—"</p> - -<p>"No, it won't. The blast is channeled. Don't be a fool, Grace. I know -what I'm doing."</p> - -<p>"You're the fool! You'll get us all killed!"</p> - -<p>"If they've tampered with just one of those cylinders we won't have to -worry about what a hand-gun blast will do. But they won't save their -own skins before the <i>big</i> blast hits us. That's one thing I can make -sure of."</p> - -<p>He turned and was gone. She started to follow him out into the yard, -but became aware of how dangerous that would be just in time. If she -followed her husband the children would almost certainly follow her, -for she couldn't order them to stay indoors and hope to be obeyed.</p> - -<p>She rushed to the window and stared out, her face pressed to the pane.</p> - -<p>She could feel Thomas pressing close to her—or was it Hedy or Susan? -There was a heaviness in his body which made her almost sure it was -Thomas. But that meant nothing, because she loved all of her children -equally.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she was sure it was Thomas, because he was speaking to her. -"Take it easy, Mom! Dad'll take care of whoever it is. He's got a -hand-gun to protect him."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I know he has!" she wanted to scream. "It will be a beautiful way -of protecting us all ... by sending us straight into eternity. God, -dear God, don't let him blast. Don't—"</p> - -<p>The blast came then, lighting up the darkness outside, making the -windowpanes rattle. For an instant Grace Lynton could see her husband -clearly, standing by the shed with a white flare spreading outward from -his shoulders.</p> - -<p>Then the flare dwindled and vanished and Grace Lynton had no way of -knowing what had happened outside in the dark. She was sure of only -one thing. She couldn't stay inside the house with her husband moving -about a few feet from fuel cylinders that might blow up at any moment, -for there was at least a fifty percent likelihood that the intruder had -accomplished what he'd come to do, before Thomas had seen the light -bobbing about in the yard.</p> - -<p>She had straightened and was hugging her son to her, just starting to -turn, when John Lynton's voice rang out sharply from the doorway.</p> - -<p>"Grace! I blasted at him but he got away! Listen carefully. I've only a -moment to talk."</p> - -<p>He was standing in the doorway with the hand-gun reholstered at his -waist, its handle gleaming dully. His pallor was startling, for it went -far beyond mere paleness, as if all the blood had been drawn from his -face artificially, leaving the skin gray and shrunken.</p> - -<p>"I can't be sure, but I think ... one of the cylinders has been -triggered to blow up," he went on quickly. "It isn't heating up. -There'd be no heat—just a faint vibration. When I put my hand on the -metal I was almost sure I could feel a vibration. We've got just one -chance of staying alive—and I'll have to move fast. I'm going to take -it to the Spaceport—I can get there in the conveyor truck in ten -minutes—and have them dismantle it. They'll know how. I don't. I'll -take all six of the cylinders, to make sure."</p> - -<p>"John, no! It will blow up in the truck. I'm sure of it. We'd better -all get out in the desert, as far away from it as we can. If we start -right now and run—"</p> - -<p>"We could go in the truck, Dad!" Thomas cried.</p> - -<p>Lynton shook his head. "If just one cylinder blows up—it will take -three miles of desert with it. If all six go ... twenty miles of -desert. There are at least six thousand Colonists within three or four -miles of us. There are less than a thousand people at the Spaceport. -Only one big sky ship is still unloading. Better a thousand deaths than -six or seven thousand ... if it blows up before they can dismantle it."</p> - -<p>"But John—Oh, God, I don't know."</p> - -<p>"It's the best way, the surest way. We can't think only of ourselves. -If I drove straight out into the desert with it and it blows up within -twenty minutes the fallout would still kill several thousand Colonists. -The Spaceport's in the other direction, completely isolated. And I -can get there in fifteen minutes ... even if I'm stopped by the Wendel -police and have to blast my way to it."</p> - -<p>"Why should they try to stop you? They'd die themselves—"</p> - -<p>"Why did they send someone to trigger that bomb? They'll take any risk -now, because they know that Endicott's new bluff could smash them. That -cylinder is smaller than the first atomic bomb ever built—much smaller -than the one that was dropped on Hiroshima—and if they have to explode -a half-dozen of them in different parts of the Colony to demoralize the -Colonists and discredit Endicott they're prepared to do it, apparently. -Even if it kills thirty thousand people. Or maybe they figured the one -I'm taking to the Spaceport—and I <i>am</i> taking it there, Grace—would -make the Colonists think twice about taking any more Endicott fuel -cylinders home with them."</p> - -<p>"You're right, John," Grace Lynton said, with a firmness in her voice -which surprised her. "We can't think only of ourselves. Until you come -back—every moment will be a living death. But—you must do it. There's -no other way."</p> - -<p>"I'll be back," Lynton said. "I—I love you, Grace."</p> - -<p>"And I love you, John—even though I've said cruel, cutting things at -times. I love you very much."</p> - -<p>"Take care of yourself, Dad," Thomas said.</p> - -<p>"I will, son. Don't worry. Just be the man of the family and keep the -kids in line until I get back."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c13" id="c13">13</a></h2> - - -<p>I had no way of knowing how long I remained on the outer fringes of -what was probably just a weakness-produced blackout before the outlines -of the hospital room wavered back, becoming so clear again that I could -see the foot of the bed, and a glass-topped table covered with small -bottles and a roll of gauze bandage that looked about as big as a -liquid fuel cylinder.</p> - -<p>Someone who couldn't have been the doctor was sitting in a chair by -the bed, leaning a little forward, his eyes level with mine. I was -more than startled. An ice-cold measuring worm came out at the base of -my spine and started inching its way upward, bunching itself up and -lengthening out again, the way measuring worms do when they're trying -to decide if you're just the right fit for a human-style coffin.</p> - -<p>I had a visitor whose face would have chilled a perfectly well man -prepared to defend himself against violence at the drop of a hat. He -was looking at me with a glacial animosity in his stare, as if he -resented the fact that I was still alive and would do something about -it if I gave him the slightest encouragement.</p> - -<p>Even without encouragement I had the feeling that my life hung by a -thread which could snap at any moment, so long as he remained that -close to me with no one standing by to interfere if he lost control of -himself.</p> - -<p>He didn't have a moronic or particularly brutal looking face. -Intelligence of a high order had given his features a cast you -couldn't mistake. It was the kind of look that went with disciplined -thinking—long years of it—and behavior that was based on intellectual -discernment, however much that discernment had been abused during -moments of uncontrollable rage. Uncontrollable rage, as every -psychologist knows, can tie the reasoning part of any man's mind into -knots. Everything that was primitive in him seemed to be at the helm -now, as if he bore me so much ill-will that he might be capable of -trying to take my life with just his bare hands, if he happened to be -unarmed. And I was far from sure of that.</p> - -<p>His glacial gray eyes seemed to say: "I've got you exactly where I -want you, chum. It won't do you any good to shout for help. It stands -to reason that if I could get in here to talk to you at a time like -this, throwing my weight around a little further would be no problem -at all. Five minutes of privacy will suit me fine. After all, how long -will killing you take?"</p> - -<p>He was a fairly big man, compactly built, with hands that looked strong -enough to bend a steel bar, if he didn't mind chancing a rush of blood -to the head that might have been a little risky in a man his age.</p> - -<p>I had no idea why he was sitting there, only that the alarm bells were -ringing again. Only this time it wasn't taking place in a crowded -subway train in total darkness, or up near the top of a swaying spiral -where an assassin's aim could be a little less than sure. It was man to -man, tete-a-tete, in a well-lighted hospital room.</p> - -<p>I was flat on my back and weak as hell and Death was looking straight -at me out of ice-blue eyes. I had only one straw to clutch at. The -hospital room might just possibly be under surveillance and an act of -violence that's likely to boomerang can give an assassin pause.</p> - -<p>His first words ripped that straw from me and crumpled it up, with such -vigor I was sure I could hear a crunching sound.</p> - -<p>"I've just a few questions to ask you," he said, in a surprisingly mild -tone. "We've made sure that there are no recording devices in this -room. We always make a careful check as a matter of routine, when we're -forced to demand complete privacy during an interrogation of this sort. -It's something we'd prefer not to do, but there are times—"</p> - -<p>He shrugged, as if he'd made the point clear enough and resented the -necessity of making it any plainer.</p> - -<p>"When the internal security of the Colony is endangered," he went on -impatiently, "we do not hesitate to invoke all of our authority. We -have no choice. Too many people take it for granted that a privately -owned combine is exceeding its authority when it undertakes police -investigations not specifically authorized by its charter. They -forget that such police powers are implicit in every charter which -provides for the exercise of reasonable vigilance in the public domain. -Safe-guarding the public, which Wendel Atomics serves, would not be -possible if we did not exercise such authority."</p> - -<p>How true that was I didn't have enough legal knowledge at my -finger-tips to decide. But I was pretty sure it was a bald-faced lie. -But just his use of the word "power" explained how he'd managed to get -as close to me as he'd done, with no one within earshot to hear me if I -burst my lungs shouting.</p> - -<p>The kind of power the Board had given me the right to exercise -superceded whatever display of authority Wendel Atomics had used to -turn the hospital room into a prison cell. But who would know or make -a move to save me—if the silver bird didn't get a chance to flap its -wings on my uniform until they were pumping embalming fluid into my -veins and making plans to lower me, with a ceremonial flourish, into a -desert grave?</p> - -<p>"There are a few things Wendel Atomics has a right to know," Glacial -Stare was saying. "A legal right—make no mistake about that. I'd -advise you not to lie to me. If you do—"</p> - -<p>He shrugged again.</p> - -<p>I said something then that surprised me, because I didn't think right -at the moment I had that much defiance on tap.</p> - -<p>"Shove it!" I said.</p> - -<p>He couldn't have heard me, because he went on with no change of -expression. "Commander Littlefield is within his rights in refusing -to permit us to question him as to what took place on board the Mars' -rocket. We have no jurisdiction over such ... irregularities in space. -If we questioned just one of his officers, the Board would have every -right to revoke our charter. But two of the officers have come to -us and voluntarily submitted information which we cannot ignore. We -believe that the internal security of the Colony is in danger and we -intend to take steps to make sure that none of the questions we have a -right to ask will remain unanswered."</p> - -<p>He was laying it on the line, all right, speaking with an almost -surgical kind of precision, so that I couldn't claim later—if I turned -stubborn—that I'd failed to understand him. It's funny how a man who's -holding all the cards will sometimes do that, just on the off-chance -that you may have an ace up your sleeve and may use it to make trouble -for him later on.</p> - -<p>He must have been pretty sure I didn't have a concealed ace, however, -for he backed up what he was saying with the most dangerous kind of -threat. Dangerous to him ... if there <i>had</i> been a hidden listening -device in the room and a tape with that threat on it had come to the -attention of the Board.</p> - -<p>"I hope, for your sake," he said, "that you'll keep nothing back. It -is very unpleasant to sit in a Big-Image interrogation room and have -part of your mind destroyed. The part you value most, that makes you -what you are—destroyed, sliced away. Yes ... <i>sliced away</i> is quite -accurate, even though no instrument would be needed and not a hand -would be laid on you. You can cut deep into the brain with vibrations -alone. But nothing ... <i>physical</i> ever takes place in the Big-Image -interrogation room. No knife or vibrator, as you know. The destruction -is brought about in a quite different way. But it's just as drastic and -irreversible as a prefrontal lobotomy."</p> - -<p>He stopped talking abruptly, looking past me at the opposite wall, -as if he could already see the shadow of a broken and tormented man -projected there. I could see it too, and I didn't like to think that I -was coming that close to sharing his thoughts. But it was useless to -pretend that the man who was casting that shadow might not turn out to -be me.</p> - -<p>So they had them on Mars, too, with the Wendel police on hand to -make sure that the big screen with its multiple sound tracks and the -smoothly operating projector were kept carefully hidden from the law. -Big-Image interrogation rooms—a cruel vestige of the brain-washing -techniques that had so outraged world opinion in the middle decades of -the twentieth century that they had been castigated and outlawed by -the United Nations, the World Court and every responsible Governmental -agency on Earth.</p> - -<p>But the criminal mind has very little respect for world opinion or -restrictions on brutal practices that are very difficult to enforce. -Big-Image interrogation had begun as a police investigation procedure, -which made it easy for the wrong kind of police force to resort to it -and claim historic precedent and moral justification as a cover-up if -their activities ever came to light.</p> - -<p>I was sure that Glacial Stare had mentioned it solely to turn the screw -as far as it would go, hoping I'd turn pale and answer his questions -in a completely cooperative way. I was sure that if I did he'd stop -threatening me immediately, listen with attentive ear to what I had to -say and apologize for letting me think, even for a moment, that it was -just a part of my mind he'd been planning to destroy. Why should he -want to upset me that way, when the only thing he'd had in mind from -the start was to persuade me to talk and then relieve me of all anxiety -by killing me?</p> - -<p>He wasn't giving me credit for having the kind of brain it would have -been worth taking the trouble to destroy, even in part, but there was -nothing to be gained by reminding him of that.</p> - -<p>You don't have to be a professional historian or even a data-collecting -research specialist in the police procedure field to pinpoint the -origin of Big-Image interrogation in the middle years of the twentieth -century.</p> - -<p>Three out of five well-informed people can tell you exactly how it -began, if you jog them into remembering by showing them a micro-film -recording of what took place during just one of those interrogations -sixty or seventy years ago.</p> - -<p>My memory didn't need to be jogged. I'd examined too many micro-film -recordings made even earlier than that—so many years before I was born -that the grooves have to be altered if you want to run them off in the -projectors that were in common use at the turn of the century, because -they ante-date even those old-style machines.</p> - -<p>As early as 1965 someone had discovered and pointed out that the cinema -was no longer just an entertainment medium. Everyone at the time, I -suppose, had made that discovery already, in a private sort of way, -but an entire society can have a blind spot and go right on clinging -to established patterns of thought, if only because people in general -are a little reluctant to discuss openly anything that threatens to -overturn the apple cart.</p> - -<p>At any rate, about 1965 someone whose name has not come down to -us—quite possibly he was a drama critic, that most curious of -breeds—had pointed out that the cinema had become a potentially -mind-shattering instrument of torture, which could be used to -brain-wash a spectator until he became a hopeless psychotic, incapable -of distinguishing reality from illusion. Schizophrenic or manic -depressive, take your pick.</p> - -<p>It was the bigger-than-life illusion that could do that—the strange, -often terrifying sense of being caught up in some super-reality that -had no real existence in time or space, in the ordinary way that -time-and-space manifests itself to us in everyday life.</p> - -<p>The cinema became potentially that kind of torture medium the instant -the first of the twenty-million-dollar spectacles in full color -appeared on the screen.</p> - -<p>We know what that kind of illusion can do today and when we watch a -screen spectacle that distorts reality for three or four hours by -making everything seem fifty or a hundred times as large as life ... we -make sure that we are entering a theater that is Government supervised -and not a Big-Image interrogation room presided over by a sadist in -police uniform.</p> - -<p>Everyone knows how it is today, and stays on guard, perpetually -alert. But back in the twentieth century the danger wasn't clearly -understood, and that lack of understanding was taken advantage of by -the brain-washers in uniform to exact confessions at a terrible price.</p> - -<p>Everyone is familiar with the disorientation I'm talking about. Even -the old stage plays and the earlier black-and-white movies and not -a few books could bring it about to some extent, when you left the -theater or closed the book, and passed from a world of dramatically -heightened illusion into the drabness of everyday life.</p> - -<p>But the big screen spectacles in full color, with electronic sound -effects, make the world of illusion and the world of sober reality seem -as far apart as two contradictory constructs in symbolic logic. When -you look at that kind of motion picture you get the illusion that all -of the events on the screen, even the intimate, two-person closeups, -are taking place on a gigantic scale.</p> - -<p>The sharpness and brightness of everything, the brilliance of the -colorama, the dramatic selectivity which makes each scene burn its -way into your brain as a titan encounter in a world of giants is so -overwhelming that when you emerge from the theater after watching such -a film the world of reality seems small, stunted, anaemic by contrast.</p> - -<p>You look at the men and women walking past you on the street and they -seem to have nothing in common with the men and women you've just -seen on the screen. That quiet little guy puffing on a cigarette and -returning your stunned stare with a perplexed frown may be the director -of a big power combine, with just as much lightning at his finger-tips. -But he seems like a pygmy. It would be impossible to visualize him as -a helmeted giant stripped to the waist, breasting wild seas at the -helm of a Viking ship or a spacesuited giant in a colorama with a -present-day background.</p> - -<p>In the big screen spectacles all of the men seem gigantic, with -tremendous, muscular torsos. Even the little guys look like titan -figures, fifty or a hundred times as large as they seem outside the -theater. And the women—with the possible exception of the very -feminine ones with overwhelming sex appeal—look like Amazons.</p> - -<p>You can't even equate the violence you encounter in everyday life with -the violence that takes place in a big screen spectacle. After you've -watched the spectacle kind of violence for three or four hours an -army equipped with the most formidable of modern weapons, closing in -on a half-bombed out city would look infinitely less formidable—toy -soldiers in a kindergarten world which the big-image, colorama giants -could topple and scatter just by inflating their cheeks and blowing on -them.</p> - -<p>Even the Big Mushroom, which we've miraculously managed to keep from -blowing Earth apart for almost a century now, looks fifty times as -destructive when you see it on the screen, spiraling skyward as the -crowning spectacle of a sound-color, fifty-million-dollar Armageddon.</p> - -<p>But remember this. It doesn't cost anything like that much to put -four or five giants from that kind of motion picture on a screen in a -Big-Image interrogation room. The cost, in fact, is negligible, because -just one scene can be repeated over and over. You're seated all alone -in the middle of what looks like a medieval torture chamber—if you -leave out the racks and thumbscrews and iron maidens and just think of -such a chamber as a blank-walled, cell-like horror—and on the screen, -fifty or a hundred times lifesize, are the lads who have been given the -task of cutting you down to size.</p> - -<p><i>You're</i> still very much a part of the puny world outside the theater -you've lived in most of your life. You know it, you feel it ... you -can't escape from it. When a big screen production has been designed -solely to entertain you, you can identify yourself with the giants -to some extent. You become a part of the illusion. But how can you -identify with four or five brutish looking lads with no resemblance to -yourself, with a look on their faces which says they hate your guts and -are out for blood and won't be satisfied until they've brain-washed you.</p> - -<p>Oh, it looks easy. Resistance, laughing in their faces, should be no -problem at all, because you know damn well it's nothing but an illusion.</p> - -<p>But just how long do you think you can go on believing that those -Neanderthaler types with five-pronged metal whip-lashes dangling from -their wrists aren't flesh-and-blood tormentors?</p> - -<p>All right, you still think it should be easy. All I can say is ... just -sit for five hours in a Big-Image interrogation room and try staying -sane. Go ahead, insist on being granted that privilege. It might be a -little difficult to come as close to it as I was right at that moment, -flat on my back in a hospital bed with Glacial Stare reminding me just -how terrible it could be. But you never know until you try. On Mars -bringing that about shouldn't be too difficult ... with Wendel Atomics -determined to build up a reputation for ruthlessness to protect its -interests in the war it was waging with Endicott Fuel and all of the -colonists who were being forced to wildcat in a commodity field so -explosive that it could turn them into killers of the dream and blow -them apart for good measure.</p> - -<p>But let's go back to the Big-Image interrogation room for a moment. -You're sitting there, staring up at the Neanderthaler-type giants -and they're staring down at you. Their eyes are slitted and they're -stripped to the waist and there is a fine sheen of sweat on their -chests. There is nothing trim or athletic looking about them. They're -heavyset, almost muscle-bound, with the outsize, very ugly-looking kind -of physical massiveness you see in some wrestlers, but hardly ever in a -professional boxer even in the heavyweight class.</p> - -<p>"Well, pal!" one of them says, winking at you.</p> - -<p>"I have an idea he'd like to high-hat us," another chimes in, winking -also, but at Muscle Bound Number One instead of at you.</p> - -<p>"We'll have to do something about that," Muscle Bound Number Three -insists.</p> - -<p>"Oh, we will ... we will. But we ought to give him a little time to get -better acquainted with us. Maybe we can soften him up a little just by -talking to him. What do you say?"</p> - -<p>"Sure, why not? You see a guy flat on his face, with his skull bashed -in, and you start feeling sorry for him. Right off, that's bad. It -keeps you from really setting to work on him."</p> - -<p>At first you can laugh, almost, because who ever heard of a screen -giant stepping out from the screen and slashing you across the chest -with a five-pronged metal whiplash? But if you know what's coming you -don't feel much like laughing, even at first.</p> - -<p>Because ... it goes on and on and on. It builds up and there's no way -you can shut it out, because they inject a drug just under your eyelids -which forces you to keep your eyes open. You can't close them no matter -how hard you try. And you can't turn your head aside, because you're -strapped to the seat and there's a clamp at the back of your head that -prevents you from moving it.</p> - -<p>It goes on and on, and after a while the giants are no longer on the -screen, but right in the interrogation room with you. One of them is -raising and lowering his arm, bringing the whiplash down on your bare -shoulders.... You can feel the thongs cutting into your flesh, and not -even screaming will put a stop to it, because you can't put a stop to -an illusion that is ripping your mind apart and letting all of the -sanity drain out of you.</p> - -<p>It's the hundred-times-bigger-than-life gimmick that does it, although -that slang-neat little word doesn't begin to do justice to what a -Big-Image interrogation can do to you. They're big, <i>big</i>, BIG, with -all the brutishness blown up, and showing on their faces. And they seem -to be leaning out from the screen before they emerge from it and you -can hear the whiplash swishing through the air and the sound of it is -magnified too, and just the whiplash alone seems large enough to rip -the hide off a mastodon.</p> - -<p>Worst of all, that hundred-times-bigger-than-life illusion doesn't -depend on size alone, as I've pointed out. It depends on the over-all -magnification of reality that takes place in a big screen spectacle, -the disorientation that makes the real world seem to shrivel into -insignificance.</p> - -<p>It seldom takes longer than five hours to complete the brain-washing. -You pass through three stages. At the end of an hour—or two, -at most—when the torment becomes almost unbearable you start -to hallucinate a little, but you're still sane enough to answer -most of the questions they ask you. Then you become so hopelessly -psychotic that your answers can no longer be relied on. But they're -satisfied, they've got what they wanted from you when they started the -interrogation.</p> - -<p>Without wasting any more time they go on to the third stage. They -calm you down and "cure" you with the mental-torture equivalent of a -prefrontal lobotomy. They do that to make sure you'll lose the part of -your mind that can resent what's been done to you, and summon enough -will power to turn accuser.</p> - -<p>And now I was lying flat on my back, unsure of how much strength was -left in me, and Glacial Stare was threatening me with <i>that</i>! Not -just an hour or two with the barrel-chested lads—on rare occasions -they stopped just short of the third stage—but the full, deep-cut -treatment.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c14" id="c14">14</a></h2> - - -<p>He'd made it plain that he was representing Wendel. But he hadn't come -right out and identified himself, and I had no way of knowing exactly -what kind of Wendel agent he was. The worst kind, beyond a doubt. But -what I would have liked to know took in more territory than that.</p> - -<p>Was he ... a replacement? Had he been instructed to step into the -shoes of the secret agent the robot had killed in space? If he had, -the satisfaction he'd get from killing me would probably exceed the -pleasure a run-of-the-mill Wendel police officer would experience.</p> - -<p>It would be easier for him to identify with the slain crewman and feel -a sense of personal outrage strong enough to make him think of himself -as an avenger. The fact that he wasn't wearing a uniform lent support -to that grim possibility. When a man has a strong personal reason for -wanting you dead it can make the official reason seem twice as urgent. -It could also bring into his face the kind of look that Glacial Stare -was still keeping trained on me.</p> - -<p>There was only one thing I knew with absolute certainty. Answering his -questions would do me no good—would only make the danger greater the -instant I stopped talking. I'd be signing my own death warrant with a -vengeance if I co-operated with him right there in the hospital room -and spared him the trouble of having me bound and gagged and smuggled -out of the hospital into a Big-Image interrogation room.</p> - -<p>Why make him a present of the only card I was holding? Why be that -charitable when ... God, how silly could you get? If I'd had my -strength or there had been anyone within earshot to dispute his -authority if I shouted for help—a one in fifty chance of it, even—I -might have been holding at least a Jack or a Queen. But never an Ace, -or four of a kind or a Royal Flush. About all I was holding was the -joker. In some games the joker can be the highest card in the deck, but -not in the kind of game the three of us were playing.</p> - -<p>It was the third player who was holding all of the really high cards. -He was hovering just behind Glacial Stare, with a shroud with my name -embroidered on it draped over his arm. He could see my hand clearly, -because he was looking straight at me out of eyes like holes in a skull.</p> - -<p>That scythe-and-sickle round is almost unbeatable because of the way -Death has of just quietly raising the ante until all hope is gone. -Sometimes you've no choice but to let him call your bluff, lay your -cards face up on the table, and wait for the blow to fall.</p> - -<p>Sometimes ... but not always. Death is a weird-o who doesn't really -want anyone to live to a crusty old age and that can anger you, and -there are no limits to what a certain kind of resentment can do for -you. You'll take desperate chances when you know the sands have just -about run out.</p> - -<p>I came up out of the bed so fast the electricity my body generated made -the sheets crackle. It wasn't the helplessly weak body I'd thought -it. Not at all. When I whipped back my arm I could feel a thrust of -power and resilience in my shoulder muscles that amazed me, because it -shouldn't have been there. There was no flabbiness or lack of muscle -tone.</p> - -<p>I crashed into him before my feet hit the floor, sinking my fist into -his mid-section and sending the chair he was sitting in skidding half -across the hospital room.</p> - -<p>He clung to both arms of the chair, too jolted to straighten up and try -to heave himself out of it before I shortened the distance between us -by hurling myself directly at him again. I just missed fumbling that -crucial follow-up, because my legs were deficient in muscle tone and -they almost collapsed under me before I got to him.</p> - -<p>I dragged him out of the chair and had him down on the floor and was -banging his head against the floor before he could get any kind of grip -on me. I wasn't in the least bit gentle about it. If I'd been banging -him around for five or ten minutes without stopping I couldn't have -heightened the look of shock and absolute horror in his eyes.</p> - -<p>The best he could do was twist about under me and try desperately to -raise himself a little, thrusting his head forward to keep me from -bringing it so violently into contact with the floor. He seemed to -be trying so hard to get out from under that I decided to help him. -I lifted him clean off the floor and slammed him back against the -wall—not once, but several times.</p> - -<p>I don't know where my strength came from, but even my legs were doing -all right now. They were still the weakest part of me, but they went -right on supporting me until I'd finished clouting him with something -that was just as good as a sledgehammer—the firm wall itself, -completely stationary as it was. If I'd been standing behind it using -it as a forward-thrusting shield his skull couldn't have cracked -against it any harder.</p> - -<p>I suppose it wasn't really the hospital room wall I was clouting him -with, because, as I say, it was stationary. But when you're extracting -the fangs of a dangerous little reptile who has just threatened you -with Big-Image interrogation and know that your strength may give out -at any moment cause and effect get swallowed up in an urgency that -can distort reality. His face was a confused blur for a moment. But a -second or two before all of the expression drained out of it and he -slumped jerkily to the floor my vision steadied and I saw that his look -of absolute horror had been replaced by the deadliest kind of hatred.</p> - -<p>It's always a little jolting, no matter how you slice it, to know that -a man who should be incapable of feeling anything but shock and pain -can pass out cold with that kind of look in his eyes.</p> - -<p>I'd gone berserk for a moment, but when I have to, when there's some -compelling reason for it, I can cool off fast. <i>Calm down</i> would be -a more accurate way of phrasing it, for I knew it would take a long -time for the way I felt about Glacial Stare to turn from anger to -enlightened scientific detachment. He couldn't really help being what -he was, because what is known as the bastard-pattern gets grooved -into the poor unhappy devils who are afflicted with it way back in -childhood. They injure themselves more than they injure others, even -though what they do to others in the process often doesn't bear -thinking about.</p> - -<p>Right at the moment Glacial Stare had injured himself, but not -deliberately. I had done most of the injuring for him. But there would -be times when he'd punish himself twice as remorselessly, and he'd go -on doing it to the end of his days. If there's a hell on Earth the -sadistic bastards occupy it, and it's unscientific to feel anything but -pity for them.</p> - -<p>It was equally unscientific for me to feel anything but concern for -my own safety right at the moment, because I was still trapped in a -hospital room with all of the physical weakness I'd felt a few minutes -before creeping back and with no guarantee that if I walked out of the -room in a tottering condition I wouldn't run smack into another Wendel -agent.</p> - -<p>Quite possibly they had the hospital surrounded and when they saw what -I'd done to Glacial Stare they wouldn't talk with me as long as he had -done before I'd belted him unconscious.</p> - -<p>They'd either blast me down, cold-bloodedly and on the spot, with one -of the compact little hand-guns Doctor Mile-Away had discussed with -Joan on the ambulance—how many days, weeks away that ride seemed—or -gag and bind me and carry me out on a stretcher.</p> - -<p>Glacial Stare himself no longer worried me. He'd be out for as long as -it would take me to decide whether it would be better to go staggering -out of the hospital room and trust the first person I collided with not -to betray me, or flop back on the bed and shout for help from there.</p> - -<p>You do crazy things, sometimes, when you're that uncertain. There -wasn't a chance of his coming to immediately, but just automatically I -crouched beside him and rolled one of his eyelids back with my thumb. -The glazed pupil that stared sightlessly back at me gave me a jolt, -because it could have meant that I'd killed him. I thrust my hand under -his shirt and felt around for a heartbeat and found no trace of one. -His skin was clammy and very cold.</p> - -<p>Then I saw that he was still breathing. His chest rose and fell and -there was a sudden, dull thumping where my palm was resting.</p> - -<p>All right, that took care of him. He would live to turn vicious again. -But it didn't take care of me. I was still in the worst kind of danger, -and sounding off might be the unwisest thing I could do. But what -chance would I have otherwise? Someone would have to know or I'd likely -as not take all of the wrong risks.</p> - -<p>I had to fight off the weakness that was coming back and be ready for -anything—even a set-to with another Wendel agent or a half-dozen of -them. But I had to have an ally, someone who knew the hospital as well -as I knew the lines of my palm. I had to be briefed in advance, or I'd -have no way of knowing how good my chances were.</p> - -<p>How long could I stay on my feet, despite the weakness, if I decided -on a desperate gamble and attempted to get out of the hospital alive? -Did any of the doctors have enough authority to oppose Wendel, if I -told them who I was and they believed me. Or did Wendel have so much -power here they'd have to actually see the silver bird to take risks -on my behalf which would bring the entire staff an exceptional courage -citation from the Board—if I lived to set the record straight.</p> - -<p>And where was the silver bird and my secret-code identification papers? -Not on my person. All of my clothes had been removed and I was wearing -just a one-piece, in-patient garment with no pockets in it. It stood to -reason they'd gone through my clothes before attaching a tag to them -and filing them away, on the off-chance I might live to reclaim them. -In an emergency case they'd have displayed that much curiosity, at -least. It would have been no more than a routine procedure.</p> - -<p>Unless—Commander Littlefield had warned them not to tamper with my -clothes and to return them to him immediately. No, no—that was crazy. -The chances were he'd removed the silver bird and the identification -papers from my inner breast pocket before they'd bundled me into the -ambulance and they were now safely in his possession. Or perhaps Joan -had them. It was all pure guesswork, but I was fairly certain of one -thing. They hadn't found the silver bird or Glacial Stare would never -have been permitted—</p> - -<p>Hell ... why not face it. I couldn't even be completely sure of that. -If Wendel was all-powerful here the doctors' hands would be tied, no -matter how much they knew about me. I'd have to be in robust health and -on my feet, with the silver bird gleaming on my shoulder, to overcome -that kind of power.</p> - -<p>Actually, I didn't think Commander Littlefield had told them anything. -It was the kind of secret he'd guard with his life, unless he'd had -reason to suspect that Wendel would send an agent to kill me before -I had a chance to tell him whether or not I thought the danger was -great enough to justify abandoning all secrecy ... immediately and as -a simple safety precaution. He'd respect my wishes in the matter, and -could certainly be excused for not having had the foresight to take -maximum precautions on his own initiative. It could very easily be -argued that he should have done so ... that he had blundered badly. But -I refused to condemn him for keeping the secrecy obligation so firmly -in mind that he'd failed to realize precisely how fast and ruthlessly -Wendel could move. And even if I'd been ringed about with security -precautions Wendel might have succeeded in convincing the hospital -staff that the silver bird was a lead counterfeit and Littlefield an -anti-Colony conspirator.</p> - -<p>A lot of suspicion hovered over the heads of the big sky ship -commanders, anyway—a sinister, shadowy aura woven of lies and slander -that accompanied them everywhere and greatly curtailed their authority -when they attempted to intervene in the affairs of the Colony.</p> - -<p>All that passed through my mind as I stood staring down at Glacial -Stare and helped me come to a decision. If I lived to get out of -the hospital I'd be on my own with a vengeance. But Littlefield was -still my best bet I'd be completely alone in totally unfamiliar -surroundings, facing a challenge such as no man had ever faced before -and survived to tell about it.</p> - -<p>I'd have to make my way through the Colony on foot, a stranger in -a world I'd had no time to adjust to and get back to the sky ship -somehow—even if it meant talking my way into the good graces of -criminals and hiding in dark alleys and learning new ways of thinking -and acting the hard way—but fast—and resorting to every dodge in the -book to keep one jump ahead of the Wendel agents.</p> - -<p>There'd be a hue and cry—and they'd be out for my blood. I had no -identification papers—nothing. I'd be as naked and vulnerable as the -day I was born in more ways than one—except that I'd be a grown man in -body and mind with a grown man's resourcefulness.</p> - -<p>I could only hope I'd prove equal to the task and acquit myself well -and succeed in silencing the skeptical part of myself that was shaking -its head in furious disbelief.</p> - -<p>I'd decided to make no attempt to get anyone into the room by sounding -off. Much as I needed an ally, the risk would be too great. No one had -come rushing in, and the fact that I'd been able to prevent Glacial -Stare from uttering a sound by taking him by complete surprise and -battering his skull against the wall until he folded was a point in my -favor. Not to regard it as a break and take full advantage of it would -have been foolish.</p> - -<p>Slipping quickly from the room and taking my chances made more sense -than waiting around for an ally to come to my assistance, because he -might not be an ally at all, but another Wendel agent.</p> - -<p>I was deliberately shutting my mind to the greatest danger—the Big One.</p> - -<p>You're deliberately shutting your mind to the Big One, Ralphie boy. -Getting back to the sky ship will be tough sledding, every foot of -the way, and you'll have to dodge and weave about and you may end up -dead in the darkest of Martian alleys, half blown apart by an atomic -hand-gun. But the Big One is getting out of the hospital itself, and -you're afraid to let yourself think about that because you know how -heavily the odds will be stacked against you.</p> - -<p>You don't know what the hospital is like—how big it is, even. You -don't know how many corridors there are, or how many alarm bells will -start ringing the instant anyone sees you. There may be a dozen nurses -to a floor and doctors constantly on the move from the operating rooms -to the recovery wards, and a Wendel agent or two on guard at the end -of each corridor.</p> - -<p>All the exits may be blocked, with Wendel agents aimed with atomic -hand-guns just waiting for you to show up running. You don't even know -how far the hospital is from the center of the Colony, only that—just -before you blacked out for the last time in the ambulance—you seemed -to be quite a distance from the heart of the Colony.</p> - -<p>Even if there are no guards at any of the exits and no one tries to -stop you how will you be able to find your way back to the spaceport -without a compass if the hospital is ten or fifteen miles from the -Colony, and all about you is a waste of desert sand and there are no -outgoing ambulances standing by to give you a lift.</p> - -<p>High up in one of the rooms there'll be a Wendel agent you've belted -into insensibility and he'll be stirring and calling out for help and -when they come swarming into the hospital room to lift him up—the -nurses and the doctors who can't help but blanch a little when he -reminds them just how powerful the Wendel Combine is—he'll have only -one thing to say to them.</p> - -<p>"Get me the Central Police Agency on the tele-communicator."</p> - -<p>You'll be out in the red desert, fighting your way toward the Colony -through a sandstorm perhaps, but ten or twelve minutes after that call -goes through you'll hear a droning overhead and that will be the end of -you.</p> - -<p>The hell of it was—no man ever needed an ally more desperately. I -needed a confederate, right at that moment in the room with me, if only -because I couldn't hope to cheat death for ten minutes running if I -ever reached the streets of the Colony without some Colony-type clothes -to replace the one-piece, in-patient garment I was wearing. A doctor's -white smock wouldn't do, and neither would a nurse's uniform. I didn't -have the right build to pass for a nurse even inside the walls of the -hospital, not to mention the craggy cast of my features and the heavy -growth of stubble which covered my cheeks.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c15" id="c15">15</a></h2> - - -<p>Far back in the twentieth century, when World War II was just coming -to a close, the anti-Nazi underground movement had helped quite a few -soldiers escape from prison camps disguised as women. It certainly -wasn't a stratagem to be rejected out of hand, when your life was at -stake. But somehow my masculine pride was affronted by the thought and -I did not take kindly to it.</p> - -<p>There had to be a lot of male patient's clothes hanging somewhere in -the hospital, but how was I to get my hands on a complete outfit if -I had to leave the hospital like a thief in the night, just one leap -ahead of Death in a Wendel police uniform?</p> - -<p>Stealth? Would that solve it? If I moved very cautiously at first, -putting the thought of what could happen out of my mind, and trying to -find a room where clothes were hanging?</p> - -<p>No—I couldn't afford to move too cautiously. I'd have to move fast and -boldly, trusting to blind ruck to protect me. But the clothes problem -still remained, and unless I could solve it—</p> - -<p>She solved it for me. I didn't know that at first and neither did -she—I mean, she had no idea when she came back into the room that any -such problem would confront her. All she saw was Glacial Stare lying -slumped against the wall, his jaw sagging and the patient she'd left -flat on his back a short while before standing in the middle of the -room with his in-patient garment twisted grotesquely about his bony, -knobby knees and looking one hell of a mess. It's always been hard -for me to understand how a woman can find the angular, bony body of -a man attractive, especially when it's in a state of half-undress. -But there's no explaining the mystery of sex, and I'll give her this -much—she didn't give me a second glance for a moment. She had eyes -only for Glacial Stare. She stood staring down at him with all the -blood draining from her face, as if she'd never seen a dead man before -or a man as close to death as Glacial Stare seemed to be.</p> - -<p>I saw the scream coming just in time. I stepped in front of her and -clamped my hand over her mouth, drawing her close to me, and keeping a -tight grip on her shoulder to prevent her from breaking away from me -and making a dash for the door.</p> - -<p>I couldn't blame her for being scared or feeling, as she obviously did, -that I was responsible for the terrible state Glacial Stare was in. And -whatever Joan had told her about me ... and despite everything <i>she'd</i> -told the doctor ... she'd been a nurse long enough to know that even a -woman who has been married to a man for many years can never be sure -he won't develop some odd, wild quirk of character which will turn him -into a murderer overnight.</p> - -<p>And that's even more true of a hospital patient who has been close to -death and running a fever and may still be in an irresponsible state, -his reason undermined by the suffering he's undergone.</p> - -<p>And she was completely right about one thing. I was entirely -responsible for the terrible state Glacial Stare was in. Only ... there -had been a reason for the violence I had unleashed against him, and I -wanted her to hear the full story as quickly as possible, so that she -would calm down and become a responsible person again herself.</p> - -<p>Hysteria is a woman's worst enemy ... and a man's too, for that matter. -But since it's ten times as common in women as in men it's a very -special problem which every man should know how to deal with. I was no -expert at it, but she helped me by listening to what I had to say in -my own defense as if her life depended on it. And when I was through -she seemed to agree with me that if someone had put an ether cone over -Glacial Stare's face in his sleep and relieved him of life's burdens in -a painless, merciful way they would have been doing humanity a service.</p> - -<p>"It's not right to feel that way," she said. "It makes you wonder about -yourself when you even think you'd like to see someone who's that -ruthless removed from a world that has too many merciless people in it. -But I guess everyone who isn't that way ... thinks about it at times."</p> - -<p>"I did more than think about it," I said. "But in the main I battered -him unconscious just to give myself a one in ten chance of staying -alive. The odds against me have shrunk a little, but not much. Unless I -can get out of here fast—"</p> - -<p>"You can!" she breathed. "I'll help you. No one will try to stop us, -if we make it look as if I was just walking with you to the end of -the corridor and back. We get patients right out of bed after minor -surgery, to keep them from losing their strength. It's the best way."</p> - -<p>"Minor surgery! You mean—"</p> - -<p>Nurse Cherubin nodded. "They didn't have to probe to get the dart out. -It didn't go deep into your back. It was the poison that made you so -ill. The dart struck a bone and that jammed the poison mechanism. The -dart splintered just a little, but not enough poison got into your -bloodstream to kill you. But you ran a fever and once or twice I was -really frightened, because your pulse started fluttering and you almost -stopped breathing."</p> - -<p>"Good God!" I looked at her, wondering. "If I was that close to death -how could my strength have come back so fast? I don't feel too good -right now. But I had enough strength when I crashed into him to drag -him from the chair, lift him up and slam him back against the wall."</p> - -<p>She nodded. "Even a dying man can do that sometimes, if he's threatened -in a violent enough way and desperately wants to stay alive. But -you weren't that weak, and you're not going to die. You've got more -strength right now than you realize. And you'll get stronger—not -weaker. After minor surgery the post-operative shock is usually minor -too, and the fever didn't last long enough to seriously weaken you. The -last blood test was good. No poison—not even a millionth of a c.c. You -perspired freely, and that helped to save your life."</p> - -<p>"All right," I said. "That's good news. Just the fact that you're the -only one who knows what would happen if I don't get out of here fast -would be better news—the best there is. Except that—"</p> - -<p>I shook my head and looked past her toward the door. "What good would a -walk up the corridor do me if there's a Wendel agent stationed at the -end of it? A doctor might be taken in, but a Wendel agent would wonder -why a nurse was helping me to keep my strength up when I could answer -questions better flat on my back. He'd come right back into this room -with us, to find out what happened."</p> - -<p>"There are no Wendel agents anywhere in the hospital," she said. "The -hospital would have put up a fight if a Wendel police officer had -insisted on questioning you as <i>he</i> did—in private. It would have -been a losing battle, and we couldn't have held out for very long. By -tomorrow an armed guard would have demanded that you be released in -Wendel custody and you can't run a hospital in the Colony if you defy -the Wendel police to that extent."</p> - -<p>I stared at her, amazed. "Then how did he get in here to see me?"</p> - -<p>It was then that she exploded the bombshell.</p> - -<p>"If the Wendel Combine, with all of its socio-political power, came -here in the person of just one man and threatened to make full use of -that power if he was not allowed to talk to you in strict privacy ... -and that man was Henry Wendel himself—"</p> - -<p>She shrugged, glancing steadily for a moment at the slumped form of -Glacial Stare, with just an uncanny silence hovering over him. No trace -now of the power-aura that must have made hundreds of his yes-men turn -pale and snap to attention at various times in the past, if the look -he'd trained on me was ingrained and habitual with him. And I rather -thought it was.</p> - -<p>Mr. Big himself! And I'd banged him around without knowing, without -even suspecting that I was slamming the Wendel Power Combine back -against a hospital-room wall. All the immense height and depth and -weight of it, the big atomic transmission lines, the towering black -turbines, the boa constrictor coils that snaked in all directions -through the center of the Colony. The war, too—the wolf-eat-wolf war -that was being waged with Endicott Fuel, and the demoralization that -was sounding taps over graves that hadn't been dug yet but would bear -the Wendel trademark.</p> - -<p>The lawful authority that the silver bird had conferred on me would -have given me the right to act as his executioner then and there. But -you can't solve problems that way and hope to gain by it ... because -there are always other Mr. Bigs waiting to step into the shoes of the -Mr. Big you've taken care of in behalf of the common weal, with more -cocksureness than you've any right to exercise.</p> - -<p>When you cut off the head of that kind of boa constrictor and leave the -big coils intact the new head may be twice or three times as dangerous.</p> - -<p>That he had come to the hospital alone, completely unguarded, would -have been hard to believe if I hadn't remembered that an attempt had -been made to blast the sky ship apart in space solely because Wendel -wanted me out of the way. I was sure of that now. And if he wanted me -dead that bad, safe-guarding his person would probably have seemed of -minor importance to him. It could be waived—an inconsequential detail. -I had to be questioned and then killed, and he was the best man for the -job. He could trust no one else to handle it as well.</p> - -<p>The joker was—he had botched it.</p> - -<p>There were a lot more questions I wanted to ask Nurse Cherubin but -there just wasn't time for them. We'd wasted four or five minutes -already, just discussing the state of my health, and at any moment -someone might come through the door who would refuse to let me leave -when he saw what I'd done to Wendel.</p> - -<p>It wouldn't have to be a Wendel agent. No doctor who wasn't keen -about committing suicide would have let me go until Wendel came to, -and our two stories could be compared. I didn't have the silver bird -to back up my story, and when Wendel came to he'd simply step to a -tele-communicator and the hospital would be swarming with Wendel agents -before I could hope to win any converts. The fact that he'd come to -visit me unguarded didn't mean he'd placed himself in any real -jeopardy ... in his book at least. He couldn't have known I'd knock him -out cold, and even if the hospital was located fifteen miles from the -Colony it wouldn't take the Wendel police long to get to him. Ten or -twelve minutes, at most.</p> - -<p>Perhaps they were already on the way. It stood to reason. He'd hurried -himself and arrived ahead of them, but he'd want them to be there as -soon as he killed me, to dump my body on a stretcher and carry it out -under guard.</p> - -<p>When he killed me—God, how easy it was to overlook the most vital -things! I hadn't even searched him. If he had a weapon on him I could -certainly use it, for nothing can boost your morale quite so much when -your life is at stake as the firm, cool feel of an atomic hand-gun -against your palm.</p> - -<p>I was starting toward him when Nurse Cherubin said: "Stay here, and -keep the door locked until I come back. I'll tap three times. I've got -to get you some clothes."</p> - -<p>I nodded, feeling overwhelmingly grateful, tempted to take another -minute—precious as every minute was—to tell how wonderful I thought -her. She seemed to know without my saying a word, for her wide mouth -smiled a little and she was gone.</p> - -<p>I stepped to the door and locked it, and then returned across the room -and bent over Mr. Big.</p> - -<p>I found the weapon but I had to roll him over to get at it, because it -was in a holster at his hip. His body was a dead weight, but when I got -the weapon free he stirred a little and groaned. I clouted him on the -jaw and he stopped groaning. Brutal? You bet it was, but I couldn't -afford to take any chances on his coming to.</p> - -<p>What would you have done? If I'd killed him right then and there, the -Board would not have censured me. I was sure of that. Not to have done -so was perhaps foolish, a weakness in me. I was cutting down my chances -of getting as far as the Colony, before a security alert went out, and -the Wendel police started after me with instructions to blast me down -on sight.</p> - -<p>But somehow I couldn't do it. Not only for the reasons I've -mentioned ... because a new head on the Wendel boa constrictor would -have solved nothing ... but because it went against the grain. I'd have -had a feeling of guilt I never could have completely thrown off. He'd -intended to kill me, all right ... no doubt of that. But I couldn't -return the compliment in the same coin. It made no sense, perhaps, but -that's the way it was.</p> - -<p>The weapon pleased me. It was an atomic hand-gun that had cost a small -fortune to construct—intricate, extremely compact, the latest model, -the finest, the best. Fortunately I knew a great deal about such -weapons, because unusual-type firearms have always fascinated me.</p> - -<p>This one I was sure I could aim and fire with accuracy, even though -some of the precision gadgetry was new to me. Twenty-five thousand -dollars at least that gun had set Henry Wendel back, but what was -twenty-five thousand to a man with a fortune of eight or ten billion?</p> - -<p>It seemed tragic and a pity that all of that money should have been -spent on a weapon that would pass out of his hands into the possession -of a man unfriendly to him. But it didn't sadden me too much and I felt -even less sad when I'd unbuckled the holster also, strapped it to my -own hip and thrust the hand-gun back into it.</p> - -<p>She knocked three times, as she'd promised and came in with some -clothes that some poor devil in another room would never live to put -on again. She told me as much while I was taking off my one-piece -in-patient garment.</p> - -<p>"Cancer," she said. "They're keeping him under sedation. You think -you're in trouble, that the game is hardly worth the candle, until you -see something like that. Then you realize how lucky you are—just to be -alive."</p> - -<p>"You don't have to tell me," I said. "I've often thought along those -lines."</p> - -<p>She wasn't embarrassed when I stood for a moment stark naked before -her, as most nurses aren't. I wasn't particularly embarrassed either, -because right at that moment I had no more sex awareness than a totem -pole.</p> - -<p>The clothes were a little small for me, but I had a feeling that in -the Colony not too much attention was paid to the way clothes fitted -you—or failed to fit. In a pioneering society ill-fitting clothes are -accepted as an indication that you are a rough-and-tumble sort of guy, -know your way around and are, for good measure, an old-timer, with -early-settler prestige.</p> - -<p>There were two more questions I had to ask her before I became a -babe-in-the-woods kind of grown man on Mars, with just the hand-gun and -a few highly trained areas of native intelligence to protect me—if I -succeeded in getting out of the hospital alive. It was still a very big -<i>if</i>, but the questions were just as vital, and were directly tied in -with it.</p> - -<p>Just how far <i>was</i> the hospital from the Colony? And what was she going -to tell Joan to keep her from succumbing to panic when my darling -wanted to know what had become of me?</p> - -<p>Before we left the room she answered the second question reassuringly. -It had been weighing so heavily on my mind I'd been afraid to even let -myself bring it right out into the open and face it squarely. Mr. Big -hadn't even mentioned Joan in the ugly little talk I'd had with him, -and if she was still somewhere in the hospital I had a feeling he'd -have used her nearness as one more way of tightening the thumbscrew.</p> - -<p>I'd been right about that, apparently. "She had a talk with Commander -Littlefield on the tele-communicator," Nurse Cherubin said. "He advised -her to return to the Mars' rocket a few hours ago. He wanted to talk to -her ... said it was urgent ... and promised to check on your progress -report every half hour. She left in one of the outgoing ambulances. She -told me she'd be back just as soon as you regained consciousness. It's -a very short trip in an ambulance. The hospital is only eight miles -from the Colony."</p> - -<p>So that answered my first question too, but only in part. If there was -just a waste of blowing sand outside it would certainly cut down my -chances. But there had to be a firm-packed road for the ambulances to -travel over, didn't there?</p> - -<p>"No," she said, answering me in full a half-minute later, when the -door of the hospital room had been firmly closed behind us and we were -committed to the big risk and there could be no turning back. She -paused an instant to urge me to be cautious, to stagger a little and -grip her arm for support and try to look in all respects like a patient -taking his first uncertain walk after a minor operation. I didn't have -to worry about looking pale, but when she went on and explained what -she'd meant by the "no" relief swept over me and probably marred a -little the impression it was important to give anyone who chanced to -glance our way.</p> - -<p>"There's no desert to cross," she said. "It's all built up. You'll -be passing between high stone walls with massive metal grills set -deep in the stone most of the time, with here and there a gap and a -few scattered pre-fabs occupied by aereator-system workers and their -families."</p> - -<p>So that was it! I knew all about the Martian aerator-system and the big -turbines that pumped oxygen out over the Colony. So much oxygen, under -such stabilized pressure, that it stayed in equilibrium and didn't fly -off into space even under the light gravity. Even without the aerators -there was enough oxygen in the thin Martian atmosphere to enable a man -to stay alive for a short period, if he didn't mind going about with -his shoulders bent, gasping for breath and turning blue at intervals. -His cheeks, anyway, with the veins on his forehead standing out like -whipcords.</p> - -<p>The first colonists, as everyone knows, went about with oxygen tanks -strapped to their backs and took a whiff or two of the stuff in -Earth-atmosphere concentration through a flexible metal tube whenever -their lungs started burning. And inside the early pre-fabs, of course, -there were miniature aerator systems which made living indoors as -comfortable as it was Earthside.</p> - -<p>But the big aerator-system had completely eliminated the need—a health -hazard-diminishing need at best and never actually mandatory—of the -huge glass dome which imaginative science writers in the first three -decades of the Space Age had predicted as a <i>must</i> for successful -Martian colonization. There are seldom any <i>musts</i> when science -advances in seven league boots and you're right on the scene in person, -breathing in a planet's atmosphere for yourself and finding out that -there just happens to be a little more oxygen in it than precision -instruments on Earth had led you to anticipate.</p> - -<p>It wasn't a precision instrument of any kind I was needing right at -that moment—even to reassure me about my heart beat. I knew exactly -how fast it was beating—much too fast. We passed a doctor in a smock -so spotless it didn't seem as if he could have been wearing it for -longer than a few minutes. But the look of quick suspicion he trained -on us was ageless, the kind of look that comes into the eyes of a -trained professional man when he can't be quite sure that a subordinate -is doing the wise thing.</p> - -<p>What right had the nurse to take me for a walk along the corridor -when I looked that close to caving in? I feared for an instant I was -overdoing the act, but when the suspicion faded and he went past us -along the corridor I breathed more freely again. We passed a nurse who -didn't even glance at us and another—blonde and pert-nosed—who smiled -and nodded, just as if we were old friends. I wondered what she saw in -me.</p> - -<p>Then we were standing before an elevator at the end of the corridor and -the red down light came on ... because Nurse Cherubin had pressed the -down button ... and she was urging me to be cautious for the second -time.</p> - -<p>"We're going down three flights to the admitting ward," she said. She -smiled, as if she'd suddenly remembered there's nothing like a touch of -levity to relieve strain, even if it has to be forced. "But don't let -that dishearten you. Patients are discharged from the admitting ward -too. It's not quite as long as this corridor but it will be busier. -Patients, nurses—at least three doctors. We'll just walk right through -as if we had every right to be there. Just outside the emergency exit, -a few steps further on, there's a driveway which curves around behind -the hospital. Ambulances with accident victims use it, but there's not -likely to be an ambulance standing there. You go down a narrow flight -of stairs to get to it. Is that clear?"</p> - -<p>I nodded. "What do I do then?"</p> - -<p>"You just follow the driveway until it forks and the left turn will -take you into the clear-away between the aerators which leads directly -to the Colony. You won't have to pass in front of the hospital at all. -Ambulances may pass you before you get to the Colony, but you won't be -stopped and questioned. They'll think you're one of the aeration-system -workers."</p> - -<p>I had an impulse to give her a hug and tell her I loved her, quite sure -that she'd know what I meant, even if I did it inside the elevator -where it would have more an aspect of intimacy. You love people who go -all out to help you and they don't even have to be young and beautiful. -But when they are there's an added warmth somehow—</p> - -<p>We carried it off better than I'd dared to hope. We descended in the -elevator, emerged arm in arm and walked right through the admitting -ward without even glancing at the fifteen or twenty people we had to -pass to get to the emergency exit she'd mentioned, a third of them -in white. No one stopped or questioned us, and we followed the same -nurse-helping-patient routine which had proved its worth on the third -floor of the hospital.</p> - -<p>And then—I did hug and kiss her, just once briefly before I went out -through the exit and down the stairs to the driveway. I hoped Joan -wouldn't mind if she ever got to hear about it.</p> - -<p>"Goodbye," I said. "And thank you."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c16" id="c16">16</a></h2> - - -<p>There was no waiting ambulance in the driveway. I descended the -stairway, twelve metal steps railed in on both sides, feeling grateful -for what she'd said right after I kissed her. "Don't worry about your -wife. If Wendel tries to make us send for her we'll find a way to roast -him over a slow fire until you're together again. There are three -doctors who will put up a stiff fight and I'm going to set to work on -all of them. You've no idea what a hospital can do with just the right -kind of delaying tactics."</p> - -<p>It took me less than two minutes to half-encircle the driveway, take -the turn she'd recommended and strike out for the Colony between the -towering gray walls of the aerators.</p> - -<p>The Big Grayness. I'd seen photographs of that tremendous engineering -project in my hell-bent-for-adventure years, when I'd sat at a desk -in a schoolroom, and imagined what it would be like to take part in -the construction work, standing on a dizzy height with an electronic -riveter in my hand, watching blue lights go on and off and sparks fly -up into the cool Martian night beneath a wilderness of stars.</p> - -<p>The reality was very much as I'd imagined it as a school kid, except -that I wasn't a construction worker looking down over it, a human fly -with a man-size job to do, but a guy that kid wouldn't have recognized, -his footsteps echoing on the catwalk at the base of it. I had a -giant-size job to do, but how could he have known it would some day -turn into anything <i>that</i> big?</p> - -<p>It wasn't even a project anymore—half of it still in the blueprint -stage. It was completed and the towering gray walls were firm and -solid, and the grills were sending oxygen spiraling out over the Colony -without making me feel light-headed at all.</p> - -<p>Right at that moment I'd have welcomed a little oxygen intoxication -but the aerator-system didn't work that way. The flow was regulated -directly at the source, kept under controlled pressure and diffused -outward high up by rotary circulators. As it spread out over the Colony -it was drawn down to breathing level by another system of circulators, -stationed at intervals about the Colony and extending twenty-five miles -out into the surrounding desert.</p> - -<p>If you wanted to experience oxygen intoxication you had to strap a tank -to your back and breathe the stuff in through a tube in the old way. -But no one in his right mind would do that deliberately, for an excess -of oxygen can be five-ways dangerous on a planet where what you have to -worry about most is over-stimulation.</p> - -<p>There were catwalks on both sides of the aerator walls, with a central -lane wide enough for vehicles to pass in opposite directions. I kept -to the right hand side all the way to the Colony, and it took me about -thirty minutes to get there. My strength amazed me. It probably wasn't -quite up to par. But I only had to stop twice to rest and then only for -a minute or two.</p> - -<p>Two ambulances passed me, their red tail-lights blinking, but the -drivers didn't even turn their heads as the vehicles went droning -through the Big Grayness. Up above the sunlight was waning, and -turning red, but only a diffuse glow filled that two hundred-foot-high -artificial cavern.</p> - -<p>Three aerator-system workers, walking shoulder to shoulder, gave me a -bad jolt for a moment, for they had the look of Wendel police agents. -I encountered them just beyond a break in the cavern wall, where a -cluster of pre-fabs with children playing in the yards made five or six -acres of stony ground resemble a manufacturing town suburb Earthside.</p> - -<p>I should have known better than to be alarmed, because the three men -approaching me looked eager and expectant, as if they knew that a few -steps more would bring relaxation after toil and the warmth and glow of -a family reunion.</p> - -<p>But they had the husky build and sharp-angled features of Wendel police -officers and I stayed alert until one of them came to a dead halt and -looked me over genially. "New on the job, aren't you, Buster? Don't -remember having run into you before. They keep putting on so many new -men it's hard to be sure."</p> - -<p>"That's right," I said. "I live about two miles further on."</p> - -<p>"Well, it isn't the best job in the world, Buster, as I guess you've -found out already. You get sucked into a grill sometimes, and breathe -nothing but oxygen until you feel like a blue baby they're trying their -best to save, even if they have to fanny-whack him to get the stuff out -of his lungs for a week or two afterwards."</p> - -<p>"Don't discourage him, Pete," the tallest of the three chided. "You -have a cold, cold heart. It doesn't happen often."</p> - -<p>"You bet it doesn't ... or my wife would have been a widow long before -this. Well ... good luck, Buster. Be seeing you around ... I hope."</p> - -<p>I felt so relieved I didn't even resent the "Buster." He was just a big -grinning ape who liked to kid the living daylights out of his fellow -workers, whenever he thought he could get away with it. No harm in him, -and though there might have been times when I'd have been tempted to -take a poke at him ... I had no such impulse now. I just wanted to be -able to look back and see him dwindling in the distance.</p> - -<p>I ran into only one other person before the Big Grayness terminated. -She was a stout, matronly-looking woman carrying a baby and she nodded -and smiled warmly when she saw me staring at the infant, as if she -wouldn't have at all minded if I had been its father.</p> - -<p>For an instant there flashed into my mind the nerve-relaxing picture -that every normal male has of himself at times—the humble-station -husband, big-bosomed wife picture. You're Mr. Run-of-the-Mill, just a -simple guy, working hard at a lathe or feeding processed food tins into -a vacuumator. You come home at night with no worries, kick off your -shoes and she's there to make the creature comforts seem important. -A good meal on the table, fit for a king with a hearty appetite—do -kings ever have that kind of appetite?—children romping all over the -house—a round half-dozen upstairs and down—and the kind of night's -sleep you don't get when you have responsibilities weighing on you. The -top-echelon kind that can drive you half out of your mind. It's there -for the taking if you really want it, if you don't wear a silver bird -on your uniform when they add up the score and ask you why in hell you -haven't done better?</p> - -<p>It's not quite an accurate picture, because that kind of guy has -worries too—plenty of them. He has to buy shoes for the children and -grin and be tolerant when his wife turns shrewish, as every woman with -a large family and a big grocery bill is bound to do at times. But -still, when you balance the good against the bad, who gets the most out -of life—Mr. Run-of-the-Mill or Mr. Big?</p> - -<p>Well ... however much I might fume about it ... I had to be what I was. -I could honestly say that I'd never had any driving ambition to be the -kind of Mr. Big Wendel was. I just had a kind of inner compulsion to -be true to the best that was in me, to preserve my integrity and use -whatever wild talents I had to enrich human life and have some fun -while doing it. If I couldn't always have fun, if illness or death -or just plain bad luck prevented me from living life to the full and -enjoying it ... I'd known that when I'd cut the cards, hadn't I? You -have to play whatever cards destiny hands you.</p> - -<p>Just before I reached the last quarter mile of the aerator marathon I -passed another dwelling section, with more kids scampering about and -three or four women standing in the doorways of the pre-fabs. They -didn't look big-bosomy, but slender as willow trees and very beautiful.</p> - -<p>I certainly wasn't running, but it was a marathon in my book, the -walking kind where you keep your body held rigid, your arms bent -sharply at the elbows. There was only one good thing about it. I didn't -have to worry about out-distancing the other walkers, because it was a -one-man marathon.</p> - -<p>I came out into the biggest square I'd ever seen. The one opposite the -skyport I'd crossed with just as much tension and uncertainty mounting -in me an eternity ago on Earth was just about one-fourth as large, give -or take a few square yards of shadowy pavement.</p> - -<p>In a way, the Big Grayness was still with me, because there were -gigantic, interlocking shadows everywhere and although there was -nothing but open sky overhead spirals of wind-blown sand were swirling -across it, half-blotting out the waning sunlight.</p> - -<p>When you're sure that Death hasn't played his final trump or even -relaxed his vigilance and you could be yanked right back to confront -him at any moment a square as big and empty and desolate-looking as -that doesn't give you any support at all.</p> - -<p>All right, there was life and movement in it, if you want to call a -long line of tractors standing end to end on the far side, one of them -snail-active, life and movement.</p> - -<p>One of the trucks seemed to be backing up a little and edging out from -between the others, but I couldn't even be sure of that before an -ear-splitting blast of sound and a blinding flash of light shattered my -last link with the sane universe.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c17" id="c17">17</a></h2> - - -<p>I was lifted up and hurled backwards, so violently that if blind luck -hadn't saved me I'd have fractured my skull or felt, ripping through -my chest, the beaten-drum agony that sets in right after you've shaken -hands with a spinal concussion.</p> - -<p>I came down heavily, hitting the pavement with a thud. But in falling I -went into a kind of half-spin, and landed on my side in a loose-jointed -sprawl that just shook me up a little.</p> - -<p>I rolled over on my back and stared up in horror. For an instant I was -sure that the whole sky had burst into flame. Then the flare dimmed and -vanished and I could see that the dust spirals were still there.</p> - -<p>I raised myself on one elbow and stared out across the square. The -long line of tractors was still there, too. Not one of the vehicles -had been blown sky high. And as if that wasn't enough of a miracle -the snail-paced one had turned about and was heading straight in my -direction.</p> - -<p>It wasn't moving at a snail's pace now. It was coming directly at me -from mid-way in the square, rumbling and clattering as it came, its -heavy treads so ponderously in motion that the pavement under me was -beginning to vibrate.</p> - -<p>Nearer it came and nearer, swaying a little, and if the driver had been -some crazy killer bent on crushing me to death under the treads he -couldn't have gone about it more expertly, for he was maneuvering the -vehicle just enough to make sure that it would pass directly over me.</p> - -<p>How could I doubt it? It had veered slightly and swung back into a -straight-line course again, and if I'd tried to drag myself out of its -path there was room enough for it to veer again before I could hope to -save myself.</p> - -<p>It takes several seconds to recover from a scare like that, even when -the danger evaporates right before your eyes. All at once the tractor -<i>was</i> veering again, but far enough to the left to make me feel certain -that I wouldn't be flattened to a pancake if I stayed where I was. -But you can feel certain about something like that and go right on -remembering what big tractors have done at various times in the past to -men unfortunate enough to be caught off guard when there's a killer in -the driver's seat.</p> - -<p>The vehicle came to a jolting, grinding halt a few yards to the left of -me, and the driver swung himself out of the glass-shielded front seat, -descended lightly to the ground, and was grabbing me by the arm and -helping me to rise before I could get a really good look at him.</p> - -<p>He'd descended from the tractor lightly because he was that kind of -a man—just about the most fragile-looking guy I'd ever seen. He was -lean to the point of emaciation, with gaunt cheeks and sparse white -hair that was fluffed out like thistledown by the wind that was blowing -across the square.</p> - -<p>He had deepset brown eyes, very sharp and piercing and they were -glowing now with a kind of feverish brightness, as if his agitation -matched my own or had reached a peak that was just a trifle higher. -There was nothing surprising about that, if he knew exactly what had -happened and it was as bad as I feared it might be.</p> - -<p>Despite his frailness, he had the features of a strong-willed man, the -chin and mouth firm, the nose pinched a little at the nostrils, as if -stubbornness in adversity had become an ingrained habit with him. I had -the feeling I'd seen that face before, but I couldn't remember where or -under what circumstances.</p> - -<p>I was certainly seeing it now under the most nerve-shattering of all -circumstances and would not be likely to forget it a second time.</p> - -<p>"How are you, all right?" he asked, his eyes searching my face as if -he was far from sure I knew myself and the way I looked would tell -him more than just a guess on my part. "That explosion was miles from -here," he went on breathlessly, "but it lifted the tractor right off -the ground, treads and all, for a second. I had the craziest kind -of floating sensation until it settled down and kept right on in -this direction. I increased the speed, because I sort of felt that a -fast-moving machine would have a better chance of not overturning."</p> - -<p>I stared at him half-dazedly, feeling like a pawn on a chessboard that -had tilted just far enough to make me wonder if it might not still be -precariously poised and go crashing at any moment. And since I couldn't -see the players I didn't know what the rules of that particular game -were or how far they had been abrogated.</p> - -<p>"How do you feel?" he asked.</p> - -<p>His solicitude amazed me, because if what he'd just said was true—and -I had no reason to doubt it—he should have been more shaken up than -I was and he seemed to have something on his mind that was making him -stare straight past me toward the Big Grayness.</p> - -<p>I was staring in the opposite direction. "I'm all right," I assured -him. "Just feel ... a little dizzy." I gestured toward the tractors on -the far side of the square. "What's over there? Did the explosion come -from there?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "No. I told you it was miles from here, in the -direction of the spaceport. That's the Endicott Administration -Building, fuel conveyor sections and two-thirds of the distributing -units. The tractors are all owned by Endicott. I backed this one out -from between them and had just about gotten it turned around when the -blast hit me."</p> - -<p>"I know," I said. "I saw you. I wondered why only one tractor—"</p> - -<p>That was as far as I got, because what hit me then was more jolting -than any blast could have been, and it wasn't even physical. Just one -word he'd let drop with a delayed-action fuse attached to it made me -snap my head back and look at him in desperation. He had no way of -knowing what was in my mind, but you don't think of that when you want -someone to do you a favor that's of life-and-death importance to you.</p> - -<p>I wanted him to withdraw that one word, to pretend at least that he -hadn't said it. It didn't have to be true, he could have been just -guessing.</p> - -<p>The word was "spaceport." It couldn't matter that much to him, surely. -It wasn't his wife but mine who was at the spaceport, and if he was -wrong about where the explosion had taken place it would cost him -nothing to be merciful and admit that he was far from sure about it.</p> - -<p>But before I could hope to get such an admission out of him he sounded -a knell to the granting of favors by saying: "Wendel technicians are -activating Endicott fuel cylinders in different sections of the Colony. -They're trying to turn the Colonists against Endicott by committing -mass murder. The cylinders will only destroy an area of a few square -miles, because they're not in the multiple-megaton, nuclear warhead -category. We never thought they'd be turned into bombs."</p> - -<p>Then came the knell. "We were warned about this, by a Colonist who's on -his way to the spaceport with one of the cylinders. Or he may be there -already. He just spoke to us briefly on the tele-communicator. That -explosion came from the direction of the spaceport, but it may not be -the one we were warned about. They may be trying to dismantle another -cylinder at the spaceport right now. They won't succeed, because only -an Endicott technician would know how to go about it."</p> - -<p>"Do you know?"</p> - -<p>He nodded. "Yes ... I can dismantle it. I can get to the spaceport in -about fifteen minutes, if I drive between the aerators and turn right -just before I get to the hospital. The clear-away from that point on -will take me through a section of the Colony and then straight out -across the desert to the spaceport. The Colonist who talked with us -made a serious mistake, but it wasn't his fault. He had no way of -knowing that it takes a fuel cylinder at least forty-five minutes -to build up to critical mass after it's been activated. In some -cases—fifty or fifty-five minutes."</p> - -<p>He paused an instant, then went on quickly. "He should have brought it -here. We could have dismantled it in time. But he was afraid it would -kill several thousand people if it went off anywhere near his home, -or in this section of the Colony. He also over-estimated the area -that would be demolished by the blast. When he talked to us he was -two-thirds of the way to the spaceport and if we'd told him to turn -back then and bring the cylinder here the risks would have been too -great. We had to let him go on. I said they can't dismantle it at the -spaceport. But there's a slim chance they can ... because there may -be an Endicott man there or someone who knows enough about Endicott -cylinders to make a hit-or-miss try. With luck, he may just possibly -succeed. But I doubt it."</p> - -<p>"You doubt it? Good God—"</p> - -<p>"I doubt it very much. That's why it's so important for me to get there -as fast as I can. It's my responsibility—and I refuse to share it with -anyone. There are times when a man must face death alone."</p> - -<p>"Who are you?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"A man with much to answer for, the opposite of a good man. I'm Kenneth -H. Hillard, President of the Endicott Combine."</p> - -<p>It stunned me for a moment, because it was as big a bombshell as Nurse -Cherubin had exploded back at the hospital when she'd nodded toward a -slumped caricature of a man and told me exactly who I'd been banging -around.</p> - -<p>But it didn't stun me for long, because even the showdown miracle of -two Mr. Big's taking matters into their own hands when all of the chips -were down—Hillard was also a giant despite his frailness and a better -man than Wendel could ever hope to be—even the wonder and strangeness -of it was of less concern to me at that moment than the danger that -Joan was in.</p> - -<p>I told him then. "I'm going with you," I said. "I've every right. If -I'm cutting in on your yen to face death alone ... that's just too bad. -I'm going with you, or you don't go at all. I pack quite a wallop, and -you may as well know it. Wendel does."</p> - -<p>"Your wife. I see...."</p> - -<p>"I hope to Christ you do—"</p> - -<p>"Get in!" he said sharply. "I may need you. I'm not a well man. My -heart—"</p> - -<p>We climbed in and he tugged at the brakes, releasing them and the big -vehicle lumbered into motion.</p> - -<p>It was already pointed in the right direction, and in less than half -a minute—the second time within fifteen minutes for me—we were deep -in the Big Grayness, with the walls of the aerators looming up on both -sides of us.</p> - -<p>Up above all of the sunlight had dwindled to the vanishing point and -the gigantic artificial cavern was lighted now along its entire length -by cold light lamps embedded in the walls at fifty-foot intervals. The -solid, three-dimensional world outside our minds, whatever segment of -reality we happen to be passing through, never looks quite the same -to any two individuals. It is always, in a sense, a special creation, -colored and altered by the human imagination.</p> - -<p>To me the cold light lamps were chillingly like enormous eyes, keeping -us under constant scrutiny. The scrutiny of giants, standing motionless -in shadows, with just their luminous eye-sockets visible. It was as -if any moment, promoted by some wild whim, the giant forms might take -a violent dislike to us, might raise mace-like metal fists and smash -the tractor, very much as a robot giant had smashed a Wendel agent in -space, with a fiendishly mechanical rancor.</p> - -<p>But to the frail man at my side the aerator walls may have been -chilling in a quite different way, if he was giving the Big Grayness -any thought at all.</p> - -<p>Apparently he wasn't, because when his voice rose above the rumble of -the treads he didn't once mention the aerators or the pale blue light -that was glimmering on the hood of the tractor.</p> - -<p>"It's the beginning of the end—either one way or the other," he -shouted. "Either Wendel will be destroyed by the Colonists themselves -for committing mass murder, or we'll go down under a juggernaut that -can't be stopped. Sometimes you can't smash absolute evil, when it's -backed up by absolute power."</p> - -<p>I raised my voice as high as he'd done, because I wanted to be sure -he'd hear me. "It will always be stopped in the end, I think—if -you have enough moral courage. That's a dynamic in itself, the most -formidable of all weapons. All history confirms it."</p> - -<p>"I wish I could believe that!" he shouted back. "But I'm not so sure. -And you have to fight with reasonably clean hands. Endicott is almost -as guilty as Wendel, except that it would rather be destroyed than -resort to mass murder."</p> - -<p>"That's two-thirds of the right," I shouted back. "That's where the -biggest dividing line comes. Every tyranny in human history that has -resorted to mass murder has gone down into everlasting night and -darkness and very quickly. The few that survived to die a natural death -drew back at that point. The great, utterly ruthless destroyers always -perish."</p> - -<p>We both fell silent then, because there are times when the whole of -the future and everything that human anger and courage can do to -safeguard the future and keep it from destruction seems less important -than coming to grips with an immediate, life-and-death emergency. When -you do that you're going all out to safeguard the future as well, but -you don't think of it in that way. Just getting to the spaceport in -time—Oh, God, yes, in time to be at least a little ahead of time, so -that Hillard would have steady nerves and could dismantle the cylinder -with cautious precision, with no zero-count demoralization to make his -fingers stray from the right wires—just getting there and finishing -the job before the spaceport could become a translucent cone of fire -was a million times as important to me, right at that moment, as the -Wendel-Endicott war.</p> - -<p>A million times as important, Ralphie boy. Don't be ashamed of feeling -that way. If the spaceport blows up, and there's no Joan any more, and -the universe comes to an end for you, you've no sure guarantee that the -actors who will step into your shoes and occupy the center of the stage -will make any better job of it than you've been doing. So it will be a -loss, however you slice it, because the death of two lovers is always -a loss. You fight better when you've been given that best of all head -starts.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c18" id="c18">18</a></h2> - - -<p>We stayed silent until the tractor had rumbled past eight or ten of the -breaks in the Big Grayness. They were shrouded in dusk-light now, with -no kids playing in the front yards of the housing area pre-fabs. Then, -just as we were turning into the clear-away that branched off from the -one I'd taken on leaving the hospital, Hillard shouted: "We've got to -get over to the left! There's an ambulance right up ahead!"</p> - -<p>I heard the siren before I saw it, a banshee-like wail cutting through -the twilight, unnerving in its shrillness. It took a moment or two for -its winking red headlights to come sweeping toward us and if Hillard -had seen them before that it had to mean he had exceptionally sharp -eyesight.</p> - -<p>It careened past without slowing, almost grazing the hood of the -tractor. I thought for an instant, when the banshee wail became shrill -again, that it was still coming from the same ambulance. Then I saw -four more furiously blinking headlights coming out of the dusk ahead of -us, and another ambulance swept past, as swiftly as the first had done, -but missing us by a wider margin.</p> - -<p>A third followed it at a distance of less than a hundred feet, its -siren at such full blast that it no longer sounded like a banshee wail.</p> - -<p>You can be gripped by a dread that's practically breath-stopping and -still manage to shout, if your only other choice is to die inwardly.</p> - -<p>It may have been more of a groan than a shout. My voice sounded ragged -and it almost broke. "Could those ambulances be coming from the -spaceport? Do you think—"</p> - -<p>He cut me off. I probably couldn't have gone on anyway.</p> - -<p>"They could never have gotten out there and back so fast!" he shouted. -"We'll be passing through a section of the Colony in about two more -minutes. It's closer to the hospital, so it's just possible they've -picked up a few victims at the fringe of the blast area who didn't have -our luck."</p> - -<p>"The fallout area must be pretty wide!" I shouted back. "Wherever the -explosion took place—"</p> - -<p>He cut me off again. "No fallout—or very little. What there is is gone -within four or five minutes. Safe to go in after that, for the residue -wouldn't mutate a fruitfly. Colonists don't know that ... closely -guarded Endicott trade secret. Reason we let the Colonists store them. -A fuel cylinder can be converted into a nuclear bomb, all right, but -it will be the cleanest midget bomb ever built. Take fifteen or twenty -of them to blow up even a third of the Colony. But that doesn't mean -that one couldn't blow up the spaceport, or seriously injure hundreds -of people throughout the fringe area. The ground tremor alone could -do that. I told you what it did to this tractor. Has the force of a -small earthquake, except that the tremors are three times as erratic. -They can just shake you up a little, or break every bone in your body. -Depends on where you happen to be standing. It follows a zigzagging -pattern, so it can pass right by you."</p> - -<p>All that didn't come in one shout, but I'm recording it that way -because I didn't interrupt him, and though he must have stopped once -or twice to take a deep breath, and keep a sharp lookout for another -ambulance I wasn't aware of any break in what he was saying. He was -trying his best to make it crystal clear, if only to calm me down a -little.</p> - -<p>Some of it was reassuring, but not what he'd said about the spaceport. -A clean bomb with little or no fallout can leave you just as dead if -you're unfortunate enough to be blown up by it.</p> - -<p>You see things sometimes you can't bring yourself to talk about, even -to close friends when the horror has receded a little and you know it -can't come back in a physical way to torment you.</p> - -<p>So I'm going to draw the veil over most of what we saw when we passed -through about five square miles of the Colony, before the clear-away -broadened out to twice its previous width and we headed out across the -desert toward the spaceport.</p> - -<p>We couldn't be sure, even then, just where the explosion had taken -place, because it was only the fringe area we passed through. It hadn't -been laid waste by the blast and there were only five or six demolished -buildings. If the big square which stretched between the Endicott plant -and the aerators had been a built-up section instead of a square the -property damage might have been just as great and would not have seemed -ruinous.</p> - -<p>But there was one other difference. The Endicott square had been -unpopulated, with just one tractor moving out from the long line of -tractors on the far side. The five miles of Colony we passed through -had been the opposite of unpopulated. Its streets and squares and -playgrounds and vehicle-parking areas had been thronged with people.</p> - -<p>They were still thronged with people but some of them were lying prone, -and others were leaning dazedly against the walls of buildings which -had remained for the most part undamaged and still others, who no -longer seemed to be in a state of shock, were bending over the slumped -bodies of the grievously injured and the dying, doing their best to -console them and ease their pain.</p> - -<p>I'm drawing the veil on the rest of it—the blood and the -screaming—because it was pretty awful, and what possible purpose would -be served if I described it? How could it benefit anyone? It would -serve as a reminder of how cruel life can be at times, how uncertain -and terrible. We know that, don't we? So ... to hell with it ... I say -that in a very reverent way, with awe and respect, and not profanely. -But it's best to consign it where it belongs, to hell, and not let it -paralyze all action and make you give up when there are still sunsets, -and the laughter of children, and the happiness of lovers, and ten -thousand other things that are worth fighting to preserve.</p> - -<p>It took us less than eight minutes to arrive at the spaceport, dusty -from head to foot, with sand choking our lungs and gasping a little -from oxygen shortage, because when there's a stiff wind blowing over -the desert the aerators don't function at peak efficiency.</p> - -<p>I didn't know there was anything wrong until the tractor began to -zigzag a little, about three hundred feet from the massive, steel-mesh -gates of the spaceport.</p> - -<p>He had strength enough left to tug at the brakes and bring the tractor -to a grinding halt before he slumped against me, with a strangled sob -that chilled me to the core of my being. It chilled me and stunned me -and frightened me, because I'd never thought that anything like that -could happen.</p> - -<p>He was frail, all right, and had the look of a man whose health had -been steadily failing ... no doubt partly brought about by the battle -he'd been waging with Wendel. And he'd mentioned something about -heart-trouble—</p> - -<p>The trouble was, I hadn't taken all that too seriously, because you -never think that someone who has displayed extraordinary energy and -firmness of will is going to collapse right when you need him most.</p> - -<p>I swung about and looked at him, and his pallor gave me an even worse -jolt than the way he'd moaned and sagged heavily against me.</p> - -<p>He gripped my arm and tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. His -lips moved soundlessly for a moment and then—they stopped moving. His -body stopped moving too. All at once, as if a clock had stopped ticking -inside of him, and Time had stopped ticking for him forever just -because his life and the clock were bound up together, intricate parts -of the same mechanism, and if the clock stopped there was no way his -life could be prolonged.</p> - -<p>I knew he was dead before I reached out and touched him. I could tell -by the dull, unseeing glaze which had over-spread his pupils and the -terrible stillness which had come upon him. A stillness and a rigidity -that made it impossible for me to doubt what the alarm bells were -telling me as well. They had started ringing again, but this time it -wasn't so much an alarm they were sounding as a dirge.</p> - -<p>It was impossible for me to doubt, but I still had to make sure, as -he would have wanted me to do, by feeling for a heartbeat that wasn't -there and satisfying myself in other ways. It was an obligation I -couldn't evade and had no intention of evading.</p> - -<p>It took me less than a minute and a half—a time limit I kept firmly in -mind—to fulfill that obligation. Then I descended from the tractor and -headed for the steel-mesh gates of the spaceport on the run.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c19" id="c19">19</a></h2> - - -<p>"Ralph!" she cried, running to meet me as I walked into the big, -steel-walled enclosure where Commander Littlefield and eight or ten or -possibly twelve men in gray skyport-technician uniforms were working -over a long metal cylinder that Death had started working on well ahead -of them. He was the expert and they were just amateurs doing the best -they could to beat the time limit he had set for them. With a grim -chuckle, no doubt, because, as I said once before, Death is a weird-o.</p> - -<p>Joan's arms went around my shoulders and she crushed herself against -me, and kissed me hard on the mouth. Then she let go of me and moved -quickly to one side, so that Commander Littlefield could talk to me -without interference or a moment's delay. She seemed to know without -waiting for me to say a word how important that was.</p> - -<p>One look at Littlefield's white face told me all I really wanted to -know. But I decided that if he could fill in the details for me in -half a minute I could risk setting another time-limit in my mind and -clocking him second by second by second as he talked.</p> - -<p>"A nurse at the hospital got word to us you'd be doing your best to get -back here, Ralph," he said. "The Wendel police have orders to blast you -down on sight, but now that you're here I can protect you—or you can -protect yourself. I've got your papers and insignia. Right now that's -not so urgent as what's happening inside this Endicott fuel cylinder. -It's been triggered to build up to critical mass by a Wendel agent. A -Colonist brought it here and we've been trying to dismantle it. But we -don't know just how to go about it and we don't dare experiment. We've -taken a few <i>small</i> risks, naturally. We've had to. But we're getting -nowhere, and what looks like a small risk could turn out to be a big -one. We don't even know how much time we've got!"</p> - -<p>He spoke almost calmly, without raising his voice, but there was -nothing calm about the way he looked. The time limit I'd set to clock -him by had run out and now it was my turn. I was going to have to ask -him to do something that might seem only a little less terrible to him -than being blown apart by a nuclear explosion.</p> - -<p>But it would have to be done—and fast.</p> - -<p>I clocked myself as I talked, allowing myself about forty seconds. -"Those cylinders build up to critical mass when they've been tampered -with and triggered to explode in about forty-five minutes," I said. -"Don't ask me how I know, because I haven't time to explain. I <i>do</i> -know—you can take my word for it. I knew the cylinder was here, and I -was hoping you'd find a way—"</p> - -<p>I caught myself up. "Never mind that now. Just listen. I don't know -how long it took the Colonist to bring it here or how long you've been -working over it. But it hasn't exploded yet. <i>So there's still a chance -we can get it out into space before it blows up!</i>"</p> - -<p>He looked at me as if he thought I'd gone suddenly quite mad. I -finished what I had to say fast, because I knew it would take eight or -ten more minutes for him to recover from his first shock, and issue -orders, and have the cylinder carried on board his big sky ship—his -pride and glory—and for the sky ship to rise from its launching pad -and be blown apart in space.</p> - -<p>He'd have to get all of the crewmen off as well and set the robot -controls and if there were any passengers still on board—I refused to -let myself think about that.</p> - -<p>"It may be too late," I went on. "We may all be as good as dead right -now. But we've got to try. Do you understand? You've got to get that -cylinder on the sky ship, set the controls and send it out into space. -<i>It must be done at once. Every second counts.</i>"</p> - -<p>He recovered from the shock faster than I'd dared to hope. The grin -that hovered for the barest instant on his lips startled me until I -realized it was a very special kind of grin—the kind of grin only -a man who is about to part with something that means just about as -much to him as his own life would be capable of ... if he had a -non-eradicable streak of wry humor deep in his nature as well.</p> - -<p>"Ralph, I've always looked upon people who put property above human -life as just about the lowest worms that crawl. But for a minute—God -pity me—I almost felt that way. It's just that—it's fifty billion -dollars worth of big, tremendous sky ship and that cylinder is so -small—"</p> - -<p>"It won't seem small if it blows up and takes the spaceport with it," I -said. "It won't seem small at all."</p> - -<p>"I know, Ralph. I said once I was old enough to be your father and I -still think I am. But if you put me across your knee and gave me the -drubbing a dumb six-year old would rate I'd have no right to complain. -I should have thought of it myself."</p> - -<p>"We don't always think of things that stand out like sore thumbs when -we're under tremendous stress," I said. "Don't blame yourself for being -human, Commander."</p> - -<p>"I hope it won't take me much longer than that to finish the job, -Ralph," he said. "I'll do my best. There are only three crewmen on -board and all of the passengers have been cleared."</p> - -<p>He swung about without another word and went striding out of the -enclosure.</p> - -<p>I would have followed him if Joan hadn't picked that moment to come -back into my arms. It held me up for a minute or two.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The incandescent burst of flame that makes a big sky ship's ascent into -space seem for an instant almost cataclysmic, as if the sky itself -had been ripped apart in some terrible and incomprehensible way, came -exactly eight minutes, thirty-two seconds later.</p> - -<p>I timed it myself, not mentally this time but with a watch in my hand. -I stood with Joan at my side a hundred feet from the launching pad, -watching the cylinder disappear into the sky. It was the cylinder and -not the big rocket itself that I seemed to see as I stared upward, -as if the sky ship had turned to glass and the deadly thing it was -carrying out into space was beginning to stir and vibrate in a quite -ghastly way, with its contours enlarged to sky-spanning dimensions -under the glass.</p> - -<p>To my inward vision it was bigger than the ship itself and it was hard -to understand how even a huge sky ship could be carrying anything so -enormous and death-freighted when a short while before it had been -discharging passengers in the bright Martian sunlight who had given -no thought to Death ... only what life had in store for them on a new -world.</p> - -<p>My fingers were clenched around the watch and I wasn't even aware that -Commander Littlefield had joined me until he tapped me on the arm.</p> - -<p>"We can see and hear it when it happens—all of it, just as if we were -taking it out into space ourselves. Every tele-communicator on the sky -ship is turned on and tuned to big screen wave length. If there was a -crewman on board he could talk to us and we could talk to him."</p> - -<p>"Thank God there isn't a living man on board," I breathed.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said, nodding. "Yes, we can be thankful for that. And for -our lives as well. There are four big screens here, but we may as well -watch the one in the port clearance building. It's the largest of the -four—if size makes any difference when about all we'll see when the -cylinder explodes is a blinding flare. We won't see the bulkheads -collapsing, or a robot cyb crumbling, that's for sure. It will happen -too fast."</p> - -<p>"What good will it do us to watch at all?" Joan asked. "I'd rather stay -right here. We'll see the flash, won't we?"</p> - -<p>"You'll see it, all right," Littlefield said, grimly. "It will look -like an exploding star for about ten seconds. My sky ship—an exploding -star. I never thought it would ever come to that."</p> - -<p>He started to turn away, thinking, no doubt, that I'd fallen in with -Joan's idea of passing up a view of it on the screen. But I hadn't at -all and when he started walking toward the port clearance building I -was right at his side. So was Joan, because she was that kind of a -wife. There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask him—questions of -the utmost urgency, such as how much progress he'd made in finding out -who had shot the dart at me from high up on the spiral and just what -news he'd received from the hospital, when Nurse Cherubin had informed -him I was trying to get back to the spaceport, that went beyond that -bare statement—I was sure she'd briefed him in detail—and ... well, -a lot of questions. But this hardly seemed the right time to ask him, -because his inner torment was too great.</p> - -<p>I could sympathize and understand, because I knew what a hell he was -passing through. Nothing could prevent the destruction of his sky ship, -but he had to see it with his own eyes, no matter how much agony it -caused him.</p> - -<p>He didn't have to do any explaining to the Port Clearance men, because -they'd either assumed he'd pick out their screen well in advance of our -arrival or their own curiosity had proved overmastering.</p> - -<p>The screen was lighted and the sound tracks whirring when we walked -into the projection room. It was just like walking into the sky ship's -chart room and staring across it at the four robot giants who had -followed both emergency instructions in space and the routine kind and -were doing their best to perform a man's job now. A mechanical best, -which meant, of course, that they had no way of knowing how close they -were to annihilation. They would be blown apart without pain and had -nothing to lose that a man would have valued. But they were not men, -and who can be sure that mechanical brains and the thought processes -which take place in them are not faintly tinged with emotional -coloration?</p> - -<p>Probably not ... for it would have been something that laboratory -tests have never succeeded in establishing. A cybernetic brain can -become fatigued, yes—but it is not really a human fatigue. It is on -the metal-fatigue level. But knowing all that, a chill would have gone -through me if the robots had been able to talk to us.</p> - -<p>The image on the screen was three-dimensional, and in full color and -the illusion that we were standing right in the sky ship's chart room -was so startling that Joan whispered: "I wish we'd stayed outside. It's -terrifying. Almost as if ... we could be blown up ourselves when the -blast comes."</p> - -<p>"No danger of that," I said, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "You'd -better sit down."</p> - -<p>There were ten hollow-tubed metal chairs in the room, but all except -one were occupied. I reached out and drew it toward her, but she shook -her head. "No, I'll stand, Ralph. I may want to leave in a minute."</p> - -<p>One of the port clearance lads got up and offered Commander Littlefield -his chair, assuming I'd take the one that Joan had refused. But we were -both of one mind about standing. Only Littlefield sat down, as if the -burden of torment which rested upon him had added ten years to his age.</p> - -<p>No sound at all came from the screen for a full minute. Then a scream -broke the stillness. It was so totally unexpected, so horrifying, that -two of the port clearance men leapt to their feet, sending their chairs -spinning backwards. Commander Littlefield was on his feet too, but he -hadn't leapt up. He'd arisen jerkily, his hands pressed to his temples, -as if to shut out the sound or keep his head from bursting.</p> - -<p>We saw her then. She had come into the chart room and was staring -directly at us, and just knowing she could see us as clearly as we -could see her made her plight seem even more terrible. To me, at least, -because it wasn't hard to imagine what was passing through her mind.</p> - -<p><i>I'm alone on the ship ... just as I feared. They've sent me out alone -into space. If Commander Littlefield isn't on board ... if he's in that -room watching me with all those other men ... what else can it mean?</i></p> - -<p>She'd be ten times as sure of it if she'd been inside the port -clearance projection room and knew what it looked like, and I was -almost certain she had, because there was an unmistakable look of -recognition in her eyes, and the Port Clearance building was where they -took passengers for questioning.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c20" id="c20">20</a></h2> - - -<p>She looked as she always had, with her hair piled up high on her head -and the full lips drowsily sensuous, and her breasts thrusting firmly -upward against the tight-clinging fabric that ensheathed them just -below the curve of her throat, and the soft whiteness of her upper -bosom.</p> - -<p>Only her eyes had changed. Stark terror looked out of them and suddenly -as she stared at us she pressed one hand to her throat and swayed back -against the bulkhead on the right side of the doorway. It brought -her up short. But I was sure that if it hadn't she'd have gone right -on retreating backwards until she either started screaming again or -crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.</p> - -<p>She neither screamed again nor fainted, for Commander Littlefield gave -her no time to succumb to utter panic. But if his voice hadn't rung out -as sharply as it did—at the precise moment that it did—the outcome -might have been quite different.</p> - -<p>"Why did you return to the ship?" he shouted. "Why did you do such a -reckless thing? Was it because we suspected you? Was it because you -knew we were about to place you under arrest? Answer me! Your life may -depend on it."</p> - -<p>"Yes ... I went back," she said. "But only to get ... something I -didn't want you to find. I was pretty sure I'd hidden it where you'd -never think of searching, but when you started suspecting me—"</p> - -<p>"I see. A damaging piece of evidence? Something of the sort?"</p> - -<p>She nodded. "Yes ... yes ... a paper. It would have proven my guilt."</p> - -<p>"You admit your guilt then? We can still save you, but not if you go on -lying, clinging to the story you told us. Every part of that is false."</p> - -<p>"No, no!" She almost screamed the words. "Most of what I told you was -true. My brother did work for Wendel and ... I didn't know that he had -died. I just found that out a few hours ago. I came to Mars to help -him, to save him if I could. I was a Wendel agent, but only because I -had no choice. They threatened to kill my brother ... used that as a -weapon to make me spy for them and do—uglier things."</p> - -<p>Her voice rose pleadingly. "Bring the ship back. Don't send me out -alone into space. You can't be that cruel—"</p> - -<p>"We can't bring the ship back. But we can save you. Just tell the -truth. Wendel knew that the Board was sending someone to Mars to -investigate the combine, a man who couldn't be bribed to shut his eyes -to what he was sure to see here. You had instructions to kill that man -before he could set foot on Mars. Wendel wanted him killed because they -knew the Board was backing him to the hilt and he had been given enough -authority to make him the most dangerous kind of adversary. Wendel also -knew that you were the most resourceful and intelligent agent in their -employ.</p> - -<p>"You proved that, to my satisfaction, when you did what no one has -ever done before—outwitted a Mars' rocket security alert system -by concealing yourself in a cybernetic robot. I'm sure it didn't -take Wendel long to discover that you are as intelligent as you are -beautiful—both valuable assets in a secret agent. Priceless assets. -The time is very short. Am I right so far?"</p> - -<p>"Yes ... it's all true. Please ... help me!"</p> - -<p>"You tried to kill, without success, the man the Board was sending to -Mars to investigate and crack down on both Wendel and Endicott. You -tried to kill him three times."</p> - -<p>"No, only once. I'm telling you the truth. I didn't fire that dart. -There were other Wendel agents on board. One tried to blow up the ship. -And there were other Wendel agents in New Chicago, with instructions to -assassinate him if they could."</p> - -<p>"I see. But you did try to kill him in New Chicago. Why did you come to -Mars, if you didn't intend to try again?"</p> - -<p>"I told you. I didn't lie when I said I came to save my brother, that I -wanted to see Wendel exposed ... forced to face criminal charges. When -I tried to stab him in the New Chicago Underground and failed ... I -realized what Wendel had done to me, what a vicious person I'd become. -I decided I couldn't go on being that kind of person any longer, not -even to save my brother. I took the only other way I could think of -to keep Wendel from killing my brother. I <i>am</i> a resourceful woman, I -<i>am</i> intelligent ... why should I deny it? I might have made the Wendel -Combine think twice about killing him. But now my brother's dead and—"</p> - -<p>Her shoulders sagged and a look of torment came into her eyes.</p> - -<p>"All right. One thing more. When that Wendel agent surprised you in the -chart room and the man you'd tried to kill saved you ... why were you -so frightened? Why did the agent go into such a rage? You must have -thought he intended to kill you. And if you were both Wendel agents—"</p> - -<p>"I wasn't supposed to be on the ship. He knew it, and must have been -pretty sure I'd turned traitor. He knew all about my brother. There -wasn't much he didn't know about me, because he was a very high-placed -agent. He knew I had every reason to hate Wendel. And I think he was -also the kind of man who turns sadistic when he has a woman completely -at his mercy."</p> - -<p>She saw me then. I could tell by the way her eyes widened and then -fastened on me, staring straight past Littlefield as if he was no -longer her only accuser.</p> - -<p>But she was mistaken if she thought I had any desire to accuse her. -I was furious with Littlefield, sickened by his relentless attack on -her and if I hadn't been stunned for a moment, caught up in a kind -of hypnotic spell by the suddenness of that attack and the startling -candor she'd displayed in replying to it I'd have interfered sooner.</p> - -<p>What she'd told him was evidence. It would help me to smash Wendel in -a legal way, which is always the best way, when backed up as it would -have to be by armed, completely lawful authority. All I'd have to do -would be to put what she'd just said into one package and what Wendel -agents had done to an Endicott fuel cylinder in a densely populated -section of the Colony in another and bring the two packages together -and there would take place, on Earth and on Mars, the kind of explosion -that would blow the Wendel Combine into the rubbish bin of history. The -Wendel-Endicott war would be over, and the Colonists would have a new -birth of freedom.</p> - -<p>A death-bed confession has the strongest kind of legal validity and -when a woman thinks she has been sent out into space on an unmanned -rocket perhaps to die ... she is not likely to lie about anything. -An unforeseeable accident—a blind fluke of circumstance—had dealt -Littlefield a winning hand and he had taken full advantage of it. He -had done it to help me, God pity him ... for I hated him for it.</p> - -<p>Every question he'd asked her and every reply she'd taken a minute or -two to make explicit had cut down her chances of staying on this side -of eternity.</p> - -<p>She was looking straight at me.</p> - -<p>"Ralph!" she said. "I don't want to die alone in space! What are they -trying to do to me?"</p> - -<p>It was as much as I could take.</p> - -<p>I grabbed Littlefield by the shoulders and swung him about and -demanded. "You said you could save her. How? Were you lying? If you -were ... I'll kill you."</p> - -<p>"Let go of me, Ralph," he said. "A chance like that would never come -again. I had to risk it."</p> - -<p>"All right—you've risked it. Now ... can you save her? That's all I -want to know. Nothing else matters."</p> - -<p>"Yes ... I think so. If the cylinder doesn't blow up for three or four -more minutes. If she puts on a vacuum suit and goes out into space and -we're able to pick her up tomorrow or the next day—"</p> - -<p>"Then for God's sake tell her. You'll have to tell her about the -cylinder, or she won't know how great the danger is. She may take her -time about it."</p> - -<p>"All right," he said. "I'll take care of it."</p> - -<p>He was talking to her in the big screen when Joan and I walked out of -the port clearance building.</p> - -<p>We walked out because, if the explosion had come while he was talking, -just watching it would have killed me. No worse death can come to a -man than the one that can take place inwardly, for it can shrivel and -blacken his soul and leave him a burnt-out shell of a man until he dies -physically. And Joan could sense that, and wanted to get me out of -there as quickly as possible.</p> - -<p>The explosion came a full ten minutes later, which meant that even -Hillard hadn't known how variable the critical mass buildup could be in -at least a few of the Endicott cylinders.</p> - -<p>We were standing in the open, two hundred feet from the nearest rocket -launching pad, when we saw it—Littlefield's exploding star high up in -the night sky. The brightness lasted less than ten seconds.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="c21" id="c21">21</a></h2> - - -<p>You can be holding high cards, practically unbeatable, in the final -deal of a poker game and still not be sure of winning. You have to call -your opponent's hand before he gets the idea that just by drawing out -a gun and shooting you dead he can gather up all the chips, and cash -them in by threatening further violence. Assuming, of course, that he's -capable of that kind of violence and is in all respects the opposite of -an honest gambler.</p> - -<p>You can be even less sure of winning when it isn't a game of cards -you're on the point of winning, but a duel to the death with a ruthless -power combine and time is running out on you.</p> - -<p>I had all the evidence I needed now to smash the Wendel Combine. But it -had to be built up by legal experts, and stripped down as well, until -the documentation had the sinewy, blockbusting persuasiveness of a -champion's punch.</p> - -<p>It would have to stir popular fury on Earth on a very wide scale, -be made so convincing that no one could possibly mistake it for a -trumped-up shakedown in another grab for power. And that would take -time—two or three weeks, at least.</p> - -<p>And right at the moment Wendel was almost certainly out of the hospital -and back in the Wendel plant, getting ready to close in on the skyport -with his army of goons.</p> - -<p>The problem that confronted me can be summarized in just one sentence. -I had to get into my uniform, pin the silver bird into place and -complete just two visits, or Wendel would dig my grave wide and deep.</p> - -<p>Not just my own grave, of course—but when you fight to stay alive you -remember all of the things you want to protect and stay alive for. -There are men, I suppose, who are chiefly concerned with survival on a -more primitive plane, but I think I can honestly say I've never been -that kind of man.</p> - -<p>My first visit was going to be to one hell of a live man—Joseph -Sherwood. Sherwood had undisputed custody, by authority of the Board, -of every nuclear weapon in the Colony with enough large-scale -destructive potential to make open defiance of that authority an -extremely risky undertaking.</p> - -<p>I was now his superior in rank, but I had no intention of making -changes in his command or questioning the wisdom of the decisions he -was more than qualified to make. The measures he had taken to protect -the Colony I regarded as absolutely correct and he knew far more -about nuclear armaments than I did. There were limits to what those -measures could accomplish, because a large-scale thermonuclear weapon -can destroy thousands of innocent victims, and the Wendel Combine knew -precisely how far it could go without bringing down the thunder.</p> - -<p>All I had to do was convince Wendel that it had now gone too far and -that the thunder was very close. Basically it would be quite a simple -undertaking. I would simply have to walk into the Wendel plant and talk -to him in a calm way, at the risk of being blown apart.</p> - -<p>I was standing before a full-length mirror in a small, windowless room -which the skyport officials had assured me wasn't wired for sound. -It sure had privacy. Not that I'd need it while I was putting on my -uniform, because I'd be wearing it when I emerged and they would all -see the silver bird. And Joan was the only woman in the building ... -which made privacy a little absurd on more than one count.</p> - -<p>It was just that—well, when you stand before a mirror and pin that -kind of insignia on a quite ordinary, regulation-fit uniform it does -something to the wearer which changes the way he looks in a quite -startling way.</p> - -<p>I guess I just didn't want anyone to see me observing the change -in a mirror and grin, which would have forced me to do something I -just hadn't time for—take a sock at him. I suppose there's a little -garden-variety vanity in me—show me a man who claims he hasn't a trace -of it in his nature and I'll show you a first-class liar—but right at -the moment I wouldn't have been lying if I'd said that nothing could -have been further from my mind than preening myself on the way I looked.</p> - -<p>But it was just as well I had privacy, because I had to stand before -the mirror for three full minutes to get accustomed to the change, and -feel relaxed and casual about it.</p> - -<p>I'd forgotten to tell Commander Littlefield I'd be needing a tractor, -warmed up and ready to roll, and that the place to find it waiting for -me would be right outside the gate. The one I'd left there with a dead -man sitting in it didn't have quite the trim, speedy look of three or -four I'd noticed standing about the skyport and if he could get me a -lighter one so much the better.</p> - -<p>Joan was taking care of it for me. She came back just as I was turning -from the mirror, with the silver bird gleaming on my right shoulder. -She'd seen me wearing it before, of course, so she wasn't startled. But -the tall, stoop-shouldered man with graying temples who had followed -her into the room had enough startlement in his eyes to have made her a -present of half of it and still made the grade in that respect.</p> - -<p>He kept staring at the silver bird in tight-lipped silence until I -darted a questioning glance at Joan and he seemed to realize he was -putting a strain on my patience.</p> - -<p>"My name's John Lynton," he said, hesitantly. "Commander Littlefield -told me you'll be needing a tractor. I have one, and I'll be glad to -drive you, sir. I brought the Endicott fuel cylinder to the skyport, -so I naturally feel pretty strongly about everything that's happened. -There's just one thing I'd like to see happen to Wendel. But I guess I -don't have to spell it out for you, sir."</p> - -<p>I stared at him in amazement. I'd taken it for granted that the -Colonist who had delivered the cylinder was no longer at the skyport, -because no one had pointed him out to me, and I'd been under too much -of a strain to question Littlefield about it.</p> - -<p>"Well ... that takes care of one thing that puzzled me," I said. "I -couldn't understand why you'd just deliver the cylinder and clear out. -But people here seem to feel they're privileged to do pretty much as -they please at times. So it didn't puzzle me too much."</p> - -<p>"I was in the Administration Building, talking to a sky ship officer, -when you were in the shed, sir," he explained. "But I saw you come into -the projection room—"</p> - -<p>"All right," I said. "We haven't time to discuss it and it's not -important anyway. I know how to drive a tractor, but I'm not an expert -at it. If you've got your own tractor you'll know what to do if it -breaks down. That's an advantage I'd be a fool to pass up. But if -you're going with me, you may as well know we'll be in danger the -instant we pass through the gate. The Wendel agents have orders to -blast me down on sight."</p> - -<p>I shouldn't have said that, for it made Joan bite down hard on her -underlip and say in a kind of talking-to-herself whisper, "An armed -escort would cut down the danger. Littlefield could—"</p> - -<p>I shook my head. "We'd be certain to be stopped then and an open clash -with Wendel agents in the streets of the Colony would wrap it up—but -good. There's no way of packaging it that would please Wendel more."</p> - -<p>The instant Lynton realized, just from the way I was looking at Joan, -that I wanted to be alone with her he said: "I'd better check over the -tractor once more. I'll drive it through the gate, draw in to the side -of the clear-away and keep a sharp eye on the incoming traffic—if any. -I'll keep the motor running, sir."</p> - -<p>The instant the door closed behind him Joan was in my arms. For the -most part all we did was embrace without saying a word, which is one -way of saying as much as you possibly can in the space of half a minute.</p> - -<p>I was a little afraid that Joan would break down and burst into tears, -which would have spoiled everything. I could see the tears trembling -on the fringes of her eyelids, and decided right then and there that -she was one hell of a precious woman. And when you're parting with -something very precious you can break your heart in two if you let -yourself do too much thinking.</p> - -<p>So I just kissed her very firmly on the mouth for the tenth time, swung -about and walked out of that small, windowless room without looking -back to see if she was still doing her best to keep the tears from -flowing.</p> - -<p>In the ambulance on the way to the hospital I'd seen more of the Colony -than I could have covered on foot in half a day. Jogging through the -streets again with Lynton doing the driving I could have taken in even -more of it in a sight-seeing way. I could have—but I didn't.</p> - -<p>I saw no reason to make myself conspicuous, and somehow removing -the insignia from my shoulder so soon after I'd pinned it on would -have gone against the grain. And it wasn't just my uniform or the -silver bird which would have made me a sitting duck to a Wendel agent -stationed anywhere along the way with my description dear and sharp in -his mind. It was a safe bet we'd pass at least a dozen of the Combine's -goons, strutting about in their private police uniforms, so I took care -to remain in a seated position in the back of the tractor, with my head -well below sight-seeing level.</p> - -<p>This time I didn't look, wonder or black out at intervals. I kept a -tight grip on my nerves and refused to even let myself think what an -impasse I'd be facing if my talk with Arms Custodian Sherwood didn't -bring the kind of results I was counting on.</p> - -<p>It's hard to maintain just one rigid mental stance when you're keeping -a great many hard-to-control emotions bottled up in your mind with a -clamped-down safety valve. But I didn't have to maintain the stance -for long, because twenty minutes after we left the skyport the tractor -rumbled to a halt before a massive, fortress-like building which stood -a considerable distance from the buildings on both sides of it and -was protected in its isolation by steel walls, pacing guards and a -well-guarded stockpile of thermonuclear weapons.</p> - -<p>No Wendel agent would have risked blasting away at me within three -miles of that stronghold—unless he was tired of living and didn't want -to see another Martian sunrise. It made me feel secure enough to stand -up and descend from the tractor without making a production out of it, -as if I was two-thirds convinced I'd be blown apart before I could -advance twenty feet.</p> - -<p>I neither hurried nor wasted time, just stood calmly by the tractor -until I was satisfied no one who had seen us drive up—I was quite sure -we were under long-range binocular scrutiny—would come striding out -of the forest to question us at gunpoint. Then I nodded to Lynton, and -walked straight toward the big gray building. I'd told him not to move -from his seat until I came out, so there was no need to caution him -further.</p> - -<p>I can't remember at exactly what point in my approach to the -high-walled gate the silver bird became a thunder-bird, or exactly how -each of the three guards looked when they first caught sight of it.</p> - -<p>I was too startled just by the way the oldest of the three, who must -have been a tow-headed twelve-year-old when the first wearer of the -insignia walked the streets of the Colony, stared at me, snapped to -attention and grounded the heavy weapon he'd been holding slantwise -across his chest with a thud. The other two guards quickly followed -suit. Quite possibly they had merely taken their cue from him and -didn't want to risk an official reprimand. But they certainly put on a -convincing performance, as if what they feared most was a full-dress -court martial. If I'd dropped down out of the sky in a golden chariot -and was Apollo, maybe, or the Aztec Sun God, I couldn't have been -accorded more deference.</p> - -<p>A moment later the high steel gate opened and shut with a clang and I -was on the inside, with more guards on both sides of me. I'd paused -a moment, of course, to explain to the elderly guard who had first -saluted me, just why I was there and whom I wanted to see.</p> - -<p>I had an escort of six guards as I walked to the end of the -first-floor corridor, and ascended a short flight of stairs and they -continued to escort all the way to the door of Sherwood's office.</p> - -<p>Some men can be jolted almost speechless by an unexpected visit and -recover their composure so rapidly they seem to have retained it from -the beginning. It was that way with Sherwood. He was a big man in his -early forties, with close-cropped reddish hair and handsome features.</p> - -<p>He was sparing of words, but everything he told me was in direct answer -to my questions and a man who can confine himself to just giving you -the information you need without wasting words is likely to be the kind -of man you can depend on in an emergency.</p> - -<p>His final answer was the clincher. It came at the end of a -fifteen-minute conversation.</p> - -<p>"We can do it if we've no other choice," he said.</p> - -<p>"All right," I said. "I want you to tell Wendel exactly what you've -just told me, on a two-way televisual hookup. I'll be at the Wendel -plant in fifteen minutes, and I'm sure I can persuade him to talk to -you on the screen, right after I've laid it on the line for him.</p> - -<p>"If," I added "—and it's a very big <i>if</i>—I can get in to see him -without ending up dead. His goons have orders to blast me down on -sight."</p> - -<p>He looked at me steadily for a moment, with a concerned tightening of -his lips. Then he leaned back and some of the strain left his face.</p> - -<p>"Have any of his goons ever seen you with that insignia on your -shoulder?" he asked.</p> - -<p>It was a good question and it confirmed the opinion I'd formed of him.</p> - -<p>"No, they haven't," I said. "But it doesn't alter the possibility -I'll be blasted down before I can get in to see Wendel. Remember—the -Wendel Combine has taken the big gamble and is waging an undeclared, -but all out war. This insignia makes me Target Number One. If I took -it off before entering the plant his goons would probably recognize -me anyway—too quickly for me to save myself by shouting at them and -trying to make them see that Wendel would want them to withhold their -fire. I may not have a chance to do any explaining, because they may -recognize me just from the description that's been furnished them."</p> - -<p>Sherwood nodded. "Yes ... it would be foolish to deny you won't be -exposing yourself to danger. And you'll have to be wearing the insignia -when you confront Wendel. But I've a feeling that Wendel's goons -will take you straight to him. I could be mistaken, of course. But -somehow I can't picture them firing pointblank at Target Number One -without prior authorization. They'd be sticking out their necks with a -vengeance, because their instructions to blast you on sight were issued -before you pinned that bird on your shoulder."</p> - -<p>"I hope you're right," I said. "But goons are funny people."</p> - -<p>"I'll be right here at my desk when the screen lights up," he said. -"Don't worry too much. I'll handle my end of it with very careful -timing...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Fifteen minutes later my tractor rumbled to a halt for the second time, -directly in front of the Wendel plant.</p> - -<p>Like the Endicott plant, it faced a big square and there were no -pedestrians in sight on the side we parked on.</p> - -<p>"This time I'm going with you," Lynton said, very firmly.</p> - -<p>So he was going with me! All right, it was an obligation I owed him, -and I couldn't pull rank on him, because he was a civilian and it -wouldn't have done the least bit of good. Moreover, he'd gotten over -being dazzled by the silver bird, if it had ever really dazzled him, -which I doubted. He was a too tough-fibered, independent, non-authority -conscious kind of guy. You find them in every rugged, pioneering -society—guys who will stand up in a public meeting and tell a -governmental big shot that the speech he's just delivered has a phony -ring to it and he'd be well advised to try again.</p> - -<p>I descended from the tractor a little more cautiously this time, -keeping my eye on the ground-floor windows of the plant and wondering -how long it would take me to cross from the car to the building's wide -main entrance and if the steel-mesh blinds on the windows might not be -a cover-up for nuclear weapons pointed straight in our direction.</p> - -<p>But actually, despite the uneasiness which we both felt, we crossed -from the tractor to the plant without hurrying and with our shoulders -held straight.</p> - -<p>There were two guards in Wendel private police uniforms with nuclear -hand-guns clamped to their hips standing just inside the entrance and -the instant we came into view their hands darted to the holstered -weapons and their eyes took on a steely glint.</p> - -<p>Then—both guards did a swift double take. They didn't stiffen to -attention the way the guards at the gate of the nuclear fortress had -done, but something happened to their faces which made them seem to be -wearing frozen masks. Only their eyes remained alive, alert, the steely -glint replaced by a look of stunned incredulity.</p> - -<p>I spoke sharply, without giving them time to reach a decision on their -own initiative which might have had tragic consequences, for you can -never tell what desperate, completely unjustified measures a badly -jolted man will take it into his head to resort to.</p> - -<p>"I'm here to see Wendel," I said. "Nobody else will do. I guess I don't -have to tell you that this is an order. You'd be very foolish not to -unbar that gate, for I have the authority to take you into custody if -you prevent me from entering the plant. You may be just guards, but -that will not prevent the Colonization Board from imprisoning you on a -treason charge."</p> - -<p>Their eyes never left the insignia while they were swinging open the -big, iron-barred entrance gate for me. It was set well back from the -street, with enough walled-in space in front of it to accommodate a -dozen bloody corpses. I had an idea they would have tried to make use -of it in that way, if I'd attempted to force my way past them with an -armed escort and hadn't been wearing the silver bird.</p> - -<p>The strain and uncertainty eased a little once we were fairly sure we -wouldn't be blasted down without warning. It didn't take long for that -near-assurance to harden into a conviction, for what happened after the -big gate clanged shut behind us was almost a repeat of what had taken -place in the nuclear fortress.</p> - -<p>More armed Wendel police guards fell into step on both sides of us, -with much the same look on their faces the two at the entrance had worn -ten seconds after their eyes had rested on the silver bird.</p> - -<p>Just one small incident took place which made it a little unlike the -reception which had been accorded me when I'd asked to see Sherwood. We -were held up at the end of a branching corridor while one of the guards -went into a small, blank-walled room and buzzed Wendel on an interplant -communicator, announcing our arrival.</p> - -<p>We didn't know that until later, because he was careful to shut the -door of the room before he spoke into the communicator. When he came -out there was a hardness around his eyes, a look of grim satisfaction -that should have warned me that we were in danger. But you don't always -attach as much weight as you should to a quick change of expression on -the face of a man whose job requires him to resort to brutal violence -two or three times a week. The face of such a man can harden just from -habit.</p> - -<p>Because it was the kind of mistake it was easy to make and the other -guards were keeping their hostility under wraps we didn't know or even -suspect that we were walking straight into a trap until we were almost -at the door of Wendel's office on the second floor of the plant.</p> - -<p>If you're the head of a big power combine, and shrewd, as Wendel -unquestionably was, and there's a threat to your survival coming -straight toward you along an echoing corridor and you want to be sure -in advance he'll be a broken man when you talk with him in strict -privacy, with the chips scattered widely and the game almost at an -end—you'll either take care of it yourself, or assign just one man you -can trust to do the job for you.</p> - -<p>Not a dozen men—or half a dozen—but just one. It's more efficient -that way, more certain, the right way to go about it.</p> - -<p>I had no way of knowing that, of course, no way of looking through a -wall at Wendel standing motionless or possibly seated in a chair, his -eyes gleaming triumphantly, as we approached the door of his office, -with just one guard walking a few paces behind us.</p> - -<p>Except that—deep in my mind the alarm bells were ringing again. They -were ringing, all right, but very, very faintly and I don't know to -this day what made me turn my head and look behind me just as he was -whipping out the heavy metal thong.</p> - -<p>I caught only the barest glimpse of the thong gleaming in the corridor -light. But even if he'd kept it concealed for a few seconds longer his -face would have given him away. His eyes were blazing with a savage -enmity, and he started for me the instant he realized that I had been -forewarned.</p> - -<p>I gripped Lynton by the arm and fell back against the wall, tugging -him around so that he was far enough behind me to give me a chance to -grapple with Hard Eyes head-on, with complete freedom of movement.</p> - -<p>He made the mistake of coming at me too fast. It might not have been a -mistake if he hadn't been so reckless with the thong, trying to lash me -across the chest with it before he was sure of his balance. The sheer -weight of the weapon carried him forward, straight past me, and it went -swishing through the air without hitting anything.</p> - -<p>I made a grab for his wrist and before he could recover his balance I -was twisting it relentlessly and slamming my fist against the side of -his head. He sank to his knees and I kept right on hammering away at -him, hitting him first on the right temple and then on the left and not -even stopping to take the thong away from him.</p> - -<p>There was no need for me to relieve him of the thong, for he flattened -out on the floor still holding on to it and passed out cold. It seemed -only reasonable and just to let him keep it as a souvenir.</p> - -<p>I was out of breath and feeling a little dizzy, because when you hit -anyone as hard as I'd hit Hard Eyes, not caring much whether I killed -him or not, it takes a minute or two to recover. I still hadn't quite -gotten my breath back when the door of Wendel's office slammed open and -Wendel himself stood there, staring down at the guard with a look of -consternation on his face.</p> - -<p>I became a little alarmed when I saw that Lynton had moved out from -the wall and was making straight for him with his arm drawn back. -Hell—that's an understatement. I became very much alarmed, because the -one thing I didn't want was to have Wendel belted unconscious and laid -out on the floor at the guard's side before I could have a talk with -him.</p> - -<p>I got between them just in time, and I grabbed Wendel by the shoulders -and hurled him back into his office and when he staggered a little and -almost fell I grabbed hold of him for the second time, and slammed him -down in the chair in front of his big, metal-topped desk.</p> - -<p>He looked up at me for a moment with a killing rage in his eyes, but -I didn't give him a chance to get his breath back. For the barest -instant, though, if he had been quick enough, he might have succeeded -in getting to his feet and lashing out at me, for I saw something on -the opposite side of the room that seemed almost too good to be true, -and I took three full seconds out to stare at it.</p> - -<p>It was a big tele-communicator screen—just the kind of screen I had -been sure I'd find somewhere in the plant, but hardly in Wendel's -private office. The fact that Sherwood had one in his office was not -quite so surprising, for Sherwood's custodianship of thermonuclear -weapons had made him more communication-conscious.</p> - -<p>I'd counted on being able to persuade Wendel to accompany me to -wherever the plant's screen happened to be located, after I'd had a -serious talk with him. But since he hadn't wanted me to have a talk -with him until he'd done his best to get me killed or crippled for -life, and I would now have to keep him boxed up in his office by force -while we conducted the talk, having the screen so accessible was one -hell of a lucky break.</p> - -<p>"Shut the door," I told Lynton. "And lock it."</p> - -<p>I waited until Lynton had complied, my hands on Wendel's shoulders -with so fierce a clamp-hold that he gave up trying to rise.</p> - -<p>"You'll never get out of here alive!" he choked. "If you think—"</p> - -<p>"Don't press your luck, Wendel," I said, warningly. "I might be tempted -to break your neck."</p> - -<p>"That insignia you're wearing doesn't mean a thing now, Graham. Don't -you understand? You couldn't command a fly to crawl over a bread crumb. -The Wendel Combine is taking over the Colony."</p> - -<p>"Not a fly, Wendel," I said. "The Wendel Combine. A big boa -constrictor has nothing in common with a fly and I'm not interested -in bread crumbs. And this will surprise you. <i>You're</i> going to do -the commanding. You're going to command the boa constrictor to start -disgorging—every kill it's ever swallowed. It's going to flatten -itself out until it's just a mass of cold mottled skin, which the Board -will know how to deal with."</p> - -<p>"Who's going to make me?"</p> - -<p>"I am," I said. "You have just ten minutes to make up your mind. You -either turn over all of the Combine's nuclear weapons to the Board, -break the back of the Wendel police force by arresting all of its -officers and placing yourself under house arrest and order every Wendel -employee to cooperate with the Board or—Joseph Sherwood will vaporize -the plant with a thermonuclear bomb. The rocket will be guided by -remote control and will hover directly above the plant until the bomb -has been dropped. Only the plant will be destroyed. There will be no -zone of spreading radio-active contamination."</p> - -<p>All of the color drained from Wendel's face, leaving it ashen. "You -must be mad!" he gasped. "You'd die too."</p> - -<p>"I'm aware of that," I said. "We'll all be vaporized together. But it -isn't too bad a way to die, Wendel. You feel no pain, never know—"</p> - -<p>"Do you expect me to take that threat seriously?" he breathed.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid I do," I said. I gestured toward the tele-communicator. -"Sherwood will tell you how serious it is. He's waiting to talk to you. -Suppose we turn that screen on and listen to what he has to say. I'm -sure you know how to get the right wave-length. The Wendel spy network -would hardly fail to keep you informed when Sherwood changes the code -frequencies."</p> - -<p>"You said ten minutes," Wendel was breathing harshly now and the veins -on his forehead were thick blue cords. "You'd have to let Sherwood -know when to drop the bomb. You haven't been in communication with -him since you arrived here. Suppose I refuse to dial? That's a very -intricate, highly specialized communicator. You couldn't operate it."</p> - -<p>That made me change my mind about letting him do the dialing. I -was pretty sure I'd experience no difficulty in getting in contact -with Sherwood and I didn't want to give Wendel a chance to make the -communicator even more specialized by ripping put some of the wiring.</p> - -<p>I turned to Lynton and indicated by tapping Wendel forcibly on the -shoulder that I was about to relinquish my hold on the Combine's -difficult president, and would he kindly take my place behind the chair.</p> - -<p>"Don't let him move," I cautioned, when we'd changed places. "Keep a -tight grip on his shoulders."</p> - -<p>"Don't worry," Lynton said. "If he moves an inch I'll do what you said -might not be a bad idea—break his neck."</p> - -<p>It didn't take me long to discover that Wendel had lied about the -communicator, which meant, of course, that he had been hoping I'd give -him a chance to do a quick job of sabotage on the wiring.</p> - -<p>It was just a run-of-the-mill, two-way televisual communicator, with -nothing specialized about it.</p> - -<p>There was a humming sound for a few seconds right after I'd finished -dialing and it gave me a chance to scrutinize Wendel's face to see how -he was taking it.</p> - -<p>He was terrified, all right. But his lips were still set in defiant -lines and I was sure that if he could have gotten a grip on my throat -right at that moment getting his fingers unlocked wouldn't have been -easy.</p> - -<p>I thought that when Sherwood's image appeared on the screen there would -be just one minute of hard-to-live-through uncertainty—that he'd back -up what I'd told Wendel with his hand on the rocket release button and -look straight at me, as if awaiting a signal I had no intention of -giving.</p> - -<p>But I suddenly realized I didn't know just how it was going to be. -Would Wendel stay defiant right up to the end, would he defeat me -through sheer stubbornness, even though he was mortally terrified?</p> - -<p>But there was one thing I did know. For the first time, as I waited -for Sherwood's image to appear on the screen, I knew with absolute -certainty, beyond any possibility of doubt, that I could never go -through with it.</p> - -<p>The rocket had to be prepared and ready—the nuclear deterrent had to -be a reality—or I could never have carried the bluff through with the -kind of confidence that just the knowledge that you're holding the -highest cards in the deck can give you.</p> - -<p>I had to feel that I <i>just might give the signal</i>.</p> - -<p>But vaporizing the plant would have cost the lives of thirty thousand -people and not more than a fourth of them were vicious criminals. I -just couldn't see myself ordering a nuclear bomb to be dropped on more -than twenty thousand completely innocent Wendel plant engineers and -laboratory technicians.</p> - -<p>Perhaps I shouldn't have felt that way, because if the Wendel Combine -took over the Colony three or four times that number of innocent people -would perish, or sink into degradation and become completely enslaved. -But I did feel that way and—well, I wouldn't have to live with what -I'd done, because I'd be killed by the blast. But I didn't want that on -my conscience even as a dead man.</p> - -<p>I couldn't go through with it, but had I ever really intended to? It -didn't mean I couldn't win, didn't change what I'd come to do. If -I could carry my bluff through without flinching, right up to the -zero-count instant, there was a very good chance that Wendel would -crack. A very good chance still.</p> - -<p>I had the highest cards in the deck and was only handicapped in one -way. If the zero-count instant came and Wendel didn't crack I couldn't -play them.</p> - -<p>I've never really believed in miracles. But if you're holding what -you think are the highest cards, and something happens to your hand -you never dreamed could happen—if you look and see you've got a card -that's even higher, just slipped in between the others as a gift ... -well, that's pretty close to a miracle, isn't it?</p> - -<p>I thought when Sherwood's image appeared on the screen he'd be sitting -alone behind his desk, with his thumb on the rocket-release button. -But he wasn't alone and when I saw who was with him I almost stopped -breathing....</p> - -<p>Joan was with him and she was looking straight at me out of the screen.</p> - -<p>"Don't do it, Ralph!" she pleaded. "Oh, God, no—"</p> - -<p>Then I saw that she was staring past me and without turning I knew that -she was appealing to Wendel with the same look of pleading desperation -in her eyes. "If he gives the signal his command will be obeyed. And -he'll do it unless you stop him! When you've lived with a man in the -intimacy of marriage—yes, that's important and I have to say it—you -know him better than anyone else. You know what he's capable of. He'll -give the signal unless you do as he says, because the insignia he's -wearing gives him no choice. If you don't stop him now ... <i>you'll die -with him</i>!"</p> - -<p>I turned then and stared straight at Wendel. I'd never seen a man sag -before in quite the way he did. All of the life seemed to go out of his -eyes. His defiance gave way to a look of utter hopelessness, of abject -surrender, and he sank so low in his chair that he seemed on the verge -of slumping to the floor, despite Lynton's grip on his shoulders.</p> - -<p>His voice, when he spoke, scarcely rose above a whisper. "All right, -Graham," he said. "You win."</p> - -<p>As I turned back to the screen and saw the look of overwhelming relief -and gratefulness in Joan's eyes I couldn't help wondering how close she -had been to being right. Had the insignia really given me any choice? -If Wendel had stayed defiant and refused to crack—would I have gone -through with it? How much does any man know about <i>himself</i>?</p> - -<p>I'd probably never know the answer.</p> - -<p>In the days that followed every one of the Wendel agents were rounded -up and returned to Earth to stand trial. I never did find out the -identity of the agent who had shot the dart at me from high up on -the spiral or the one who had sent a little mechanical killer in my -direction by the shores of Lake Michigan in New Chicago.</p> - -<p>It didn't worry me at all, because I was sure that both of those -delightful characters were among the agents who had been rounded up in -the mopping up operations.</p> - -<p>Oh, yes—they rescued her with her hair in disarray and no longer -standing high up on her head. Three days later, drifting through empty -space about three hundred thousand miles from Mars. She's in prison now -and will have to answer charges. But I intend to go all out in the plea -I'll make in her defense when she comes up for trial.</p> - -<p>Some judges are enlightened and merciful and others are harsh tyrants, -but with the backing of the Board I'm not too worried about the -outcome. If it goes against us, I'll take it to the highest court in -the land, and the backing of the Board carries plenty of weight there -too.</p> - -<p>Eventually I forgave Commander Littlefield.</p> - -<p>"I'm a hard man, Ralph," he said, standing in the starlight outside -the Port Administration Section with a crumpled sheet of paper in his -hand, right after he'd received assurances from Earth he'd be placed in -command of a new sky ship. "I did what I did because I am what I am. I -knew that her life hung in the balance, that every word we exchanged -increased the danger. But when I weighed that against the future of -the Colony—I felt I had no choice. I knew what a full confession would -mean to us."</p> - -<p>I never saw Nurse Cherubin again. She married her doctor and they were -honeymoon passengers on the next scheduled Earth trip, which took place -while I was busy making sure that the whole Wendel Combine would come -apart at the seams. It was a little like watching a volcanic explosion -and keeping the lava flow channeled with the full weight of the Board's -authority.</p> - -<p>Joan and I have become Martian Colony residents for the duration. I -mean by that there will always be new battles to be fought in a war -that will never end ... as long as Man stays a part of the universe. -There's something embattled about him that you don't find in any other -species. Maybe it's good and maybe it's bad, but it helps to explain -why he keeps building for the future, He never knows—and just not -knowing makes him want to build as sturdily as he can.</p> - -<p>You never prize anything so much as when you feel you're about to lose -it. So you fight to preserve it, and when you've done that you've built -up enough excess energy to want to make a stab at something better. And -when that's threatened you'll fight again and so on until the final -curtain.</p> - -<p>It's just the way things are.</p> - - -<p class="ph2">THE END</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="ph2">FOR SCIENCE FICTION FANS</p> - -<p class="ph4">A space-age collection of startling adventures</p> - - -<p class="ph3">WORLDS OF WHEN</p> - -<p><b>Groff Conklin.</b> Five short novels of improbable todays and -possible tomorrows. (F733)</p> - - -<p class="ph3">VENUS PLUS X</p> - -<p><b>Theodore Sturgeon.</b> He woke up in a world of strange creatures -and nearly went mad. (F732)</p> - - -<p class="ph3">THE CASTLE OF IRON</p> - -<p><b>L. Sprague de Camp & Fletcher Pratt.</b> They disappeared Into a -world of wizards, werewolves, and magic spells. (F722)</p> - - -<p class="ph3">THE WALL AROUND THE WORLD</p> - -<p><b>Theodore R. Cogswell.</b> Amazing stories from spaceships to flying -broomsticks. (F703)</p> - - -<p class="ph3">THE HAUNTED STARS</p> - -<p><b>Edmond Hamilton.</b> A tense tale of the near future and of Man's -destiny. (F698)</p> - - -<p class="ph3">THE FALLING TORCH</p> - -<p><b>Algis Budrys.</b> He had to free an enslaved planet or die. (F693)</p> - - -<p class="ph3">NAKED TO THE STARS</p> - -<p><b>Gordon R. Dickson.</b> Soldiers of Space fight Earth's wars on the -far planets. (F682)</p> - - -<p class="ph3">A WAY HOME</p> - -<p><b>Theodore Sturgeon.</b> Tales of sky-high imagination and chilling -impact. (F673)</p> - - -<p class="ph3">THE STAINLESS STEEL RAT</p> - -<p><b>Harry Harrison.</b> The saga of an interstellar con man and crook. -(F672)</p> - - -<p class="ph4">EACH BOOK ONLY 40c</p> - -<p class="ph4">(plus 5c handling charge)</p> - -<p>PYRAMID BOOKS, Dept. F742, 444 Madison Ave., New York 22, N.Y.</p> - -<p>Please send me the following books. Each book 40c plus 5c handling -charge. I enclose $________________</p> - - -<p>F733 F732 F722 F703 F698 F693 F682 F673 F672</p> - -<p>Name _________________________________________________</p> - -<p>Address ______________________________________________</p> - -<p>City _______________ State __________________________</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="ph2">Planet In Danger!</p> - - -<p>There was trouble brewing on Mars—<i>bad</i> trouble. Two giant industrial -empires fought for control there, and their struggle imperiled the -whole Mars colony. Civil war—atomic civil war—could break out any -second, leaving Earth's only foothold in Space a mass of radio-active -rubble.</p> - -<p>But both antagonists were too politically powerful for the Colonization -Board to take a direct hand. One man was needed to take charge—one man -who could act fast and decisively, brutally if he had to.</p> - -<p>Ralph Graham got the job.</p> - -<p>And then people began dying around him....</p> - -<p>In MARS IS MY DESTINATION, veteran author <b>Frank Long</b> -spins a fast suspense story in the classic tradition of "action" -science-fiction—a story of Tomorrow and a crisis in the advance into -Space.</p> - - -<p class="ph4">A PYRAMID BOOK 40c</p> - -<p class="ph4">Cover Painting: John Schoenherr</p> - -<p class="ph4">Printed In U.S.A.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/bcover.jpg" width="305" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Mars is my Destination, by Frank Belknap Long - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARS IS MY DESTINATION *** - -***** This file should be named 51125-h.htm or 51125-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/1/2/51125/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Mars is my Destination - -Author: Frank Belknap Long - -Release Date: February 4, 2016 [EBook #51125] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARS IS MY DESTINATION *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - MARS IS MY - DESTINATION - - a science-fiction adventure by - FRANK BELKNAP LONG - - PYRAMID BOOKS - NEW YORK - - MARS IS MY DESTINATION - - A Pyramid Book - - First printing, June 1962 - - This book is fiction. No resemblance is intended between - any character herein and any person, living or dead; - any such resemblance is purely coincidental. - - Copyright 1962, by Pyramid Publications, Inc. - All Rights Reserved - - Printed in the United States of America - - Pyramid Books are published by Pyramid Publications, Inc. - 444 Madison Avenue, New York 22, New York, U.S.A. - - [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any - evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - -MARS - -... Earth's first colony in Space. Men killed for the coveted ticket -that allowed them to go there. And, once there, the killing went on.... - - -MARS - -... Ralph Graham's goal since boyhood--and he was Mars-bound with -authority that put the whole planet in his pocket--if he could live -long enough to assert it! - - -MARS - -... source of incalculable wealth for humanity--and deadly danger for -those who tried to get it! - - -MARS - -... in Earth's night sky, a symbol of the god of war--in this tense -novel of the future, a vivid setting for stirring action! - - - - -1 - - -I'd known for ten minutes that something terrible was going to happen. -It was in the cards, building to a zero-count climax. - -The spaceport bar was filled with a fresh, washed-clean smell, as if -all the winds of space had been blowing through it. There was an autumn -tang in the air as well, because it was open at both ends, and out -beyond was New Chicago, with its parks and tall buildings, and the big -inland sea that was Lake Michigan. - -It was all right ... if you just let your mind dwell on what was -outside. Men and women with their shoulders held straight and a -new lift to the way they felt and thought, because Earth wasn't a -closed-circuit any more. Kids in the parks pretending they were -spacemen, bundled up in insulated jackets, having the time of their -lives. A blue jay perched on a tree, the leaves turning red and yellow -around it. A nurse in a starched white uniform pushing a perambulator, -her red-gold hair whipped by the wind, a dreamy look in her eyes. - -Nothing could spoil any part of that. It was there to stay and I -breathed in deeply a couple of times, refusing to remember that in -the turbulent, round-the-clock world of the spaceports, Death was an -inveterate barhopper. - -Then I did remember, because I had to. You can't bury your head in the -sand to shut out ugliness for long, unless you're ostrich-minded and -are willing to let your integrity go down the drain. - -I didn't know what time it was and I didn't much care. I only knew that -Death had come in late in the afternoon, and was hovering in stony -silence at the far end of the bar. - -He was there, all right, even if he had the same refractive index as -the air around him and you could see right through him. The sixth-sense -kind of awareness that everyone experiences at times--call it a -premonition, if you wish--had started an alarm bell ringing in my mind. - -It was still ringing when I raised my eyes, and knew for sure that all -the furies that ever were had picked that particular time and place to -hold open house. - -I saw it begin to happen. - -It began so suddenly it had the impact of a big, hard-knuckled fist -crashing down on the spaceport bar, startling everyone, jolting even -the solitary drinkers out of their private nightmares. - -Actually the violence hadn't quite reached that stage. But it was a -safe bet that it would in another ten or twelve seconds. And when it -did there was no chain or big double lock on Earth that could keep it -from terminating in bloodshed. - -The tipoff was the way it started, as if a fuse had been lit that would -blow the place apart. Just two voices for an instant, raised in anger, -one ringing out like a pistol shot. But I knew that something was -dangerously wrong the instant I caught sight of the two men who were -doing the arguing. - -The one whose voice had made every glass on the long bar vibrate like a -tuning fork was a blond giant, six-foot-four at least and built massive -around the shoulders. His shirt was open at the throat and his chest -was sweat-sheened and he had the kind of outsized ruggedness that made -you feel it would have taken a heavy rock-crushing machine a full half -hour to flatten him out. - -The other was of average height and only looked small by contrast. -He was more than holding his own, however, standing up to the Viking -character defiantly. His weather-beaten face was as tight as a -drum, and his hair was standing straight up, as though a charge of -high-voltage electricity had passed right through him. - -He just happened to have unusually bristly hair, I guess. But it gave -him a very weird look indeed. - -I don't know why someone picked that critical moment to shout a -warning, because everyone could see it was the kind of argument that -couldn't be stopped by anything short of strong-armed intervention. -Advice at that point could be just as dangerous as pouring kerosene on -the fuse, to make it burn faster. - -But someone did yell out, at the top of his lungs. "Pipe down, you two! -What do you think this is, a debating society?" - -It could have turned into that, all right, the deadliest kind of -debating society, with the stoned contingent taking sides for no sane -reason. It could have started off as a free-for-all and ended with five -or six of the heaviest drinkers lying prone, with bashed-in skulls. - -The barkeep made a makeshift megaphone of his two hands and added -to the confusion by shouting: "Get back in line or I'll have you run -right out of here. I'll show you just how tough I can get. Every time -something like this happens I get blamed for it. I'm goddam sick of -being in the middle." - -"That's telling them, John! Need any help?" - -"No, stay where you are. I can handle it." - -I didn't think he could, not even if he was split down the middle into -two men twice his size. I didn't think anyone could, because by this -time I'd had a chance to take a long, steady, camera-eye look at the -expression on the Viking character's face. - -I'd seen that expression before and I knew what it meant. The Viking -character was having a virulent sour grapes reaction to something -Average Size had said. It had really taken hold, like a smallpox -vaccination that's much too strong, and his inner torment had become -just agonizing enough to send him into a towering rage. - -Average Size had probably been boasting, telling everyone how lucky he -was to be on the passenger list of the next Mars-bound rocket. And in -a crowded spaceport bar, where Martian Colonization Board clearances -are at a terrific premium, you don't indulge in that kind of talk. Not -unless you have a suicide complex and are dead set on leaving the earth -without traveling out into space at all. - -Now things were coming to a head so fast there was no time to cheat -Death of his cue. He was starting to come right out into the open, -scythe swinging, punctual to the dot. I was sure of it the instant I -saw the gun gleaming in the Viking character's hand and the smaller man -recoiling from him, his eyes fastened on the weapon in stark terror. - -_Oh, you fool!_ I thought. _Why did you provoke him? You should have -expected this, you should have known. What good is a Mars clearance if -you end up with a bullet in your spine?_ - -For some strange reason the Viking character seemed in no hurry to -blast. He seemed to be savoring the look of terror in Average Size's -eyes, letting his fury diminish by just a little, as if by allowing a -tenth of it to escape through a steam-spigot safety valve he could make -more sure of his aim. It made me wonder if I couldn't still get to them -in time. - -The instant I realized there was still a chance I knew I'd have to try. -I was in good physical trim and no man is an island when the sands are -running out. I didn't want to die, but neither did Average Size and -there are obligations you can't sidestep if you want to go on living -with yourself. - -I moved out from where I was standing and headed straight for the -Viking character, keeping parallel with the long bar. I can't recall -ever having moved more rapidly, and I was well past the barkeep--he was -blinking and standing motionless, as white as a sheet now--when the -Viking character's voice rang out for the second time. - -"You think you're better than the rest of us, don't you? Sure you do. -Why deny it? Who are you, who is anybody, to come in here and strut and -put on airs? I'm going to let you have it, right now!" - -The blast came then, sudden, deafening. They were standing so close to -each other I thought for a minute the gun had misfired, for Average -Size didn't stiffen or sag or change his position in any way and his -face was hidden by smoke from the blast. - -I should have known better, for it was a big gun with a heavy charge, -and when a man is half blown apart his body can become galvanized for -an instant, just as if he hasn't been hit at all. Sometimes he'll be -lifted up and hurled back twenty feet and sometimes he'll just stand -rigid, with the life going out of him in a rush, an instant before his -knees give way and there's a terrible, welling redness to make you -realize how mistaken you were about the shot going wild. - -The smoke thinned out fast enough, eddying away from him in little -spirals. But one quick look at him sinking down, passing into eternity -with his head lolling, was all I had time for. Pandemonium was breaking -loose all around me, and my only thought was to make a mad dog killer -pay for what he had done before someone got between us. - -Mad dog killers enrage me beyond all reason. Given enough provocation -almost any man can go berserk and commit murder. But the Viking -character had let a provocation that merited no more than a rebuke rip -his self-control to shreds. - -The naked brutality of it sickened me. Something primitive and very -dangerous--or perhaps it was something super-civilized--made me out to -beat him into insensibility before he could kill again. I felt like a -man confronting a poisonous snake, who knows he must stamp on it or -blast off its head before it can sink its fangs in his flesh. - -I was not alone in feeling that way. All around me there was an angry -muttering, a cursing and a shouting. If I needed support, sturdy -backing, I had it. But right at that moment I didn't need it. An -angry giant had come to life inside of me and we exchanged nods and -understood each other. - -There was a crash behind me, but I ignored it. What was harder to -ignore was the barkeep straddling the bar and coming down flatfooted in -the wake of two reeling drunks who were lunging for the killer with a -crazy, wild look in their eyes. I didn't want them to get to him ahead -of me. - -He hadn't moved at all and had a frightened look on his face, as if the -blast had jolted some sanity back into him and made him realize that -you can't gun a man down in a crowded bar without adjusting a noose to -your own throat and giving fifty men a chance to draw it tight. - -The gun he'd killed with might still have saved him, if he'd swung -about and started shooting up the bar. But I didn't give him a chance -to recover. - -I ploughed into him, wrenched the gun from him and sent him reeling -back against the bar with a solidly delivered blow to the jaw, luckily -aimed just right. - -Then they were on him, five or six of them, and I couldn't see him for -a moment. - -I held the gun tightly and looked at it. It was still warm and just the -feel of it sent a shiver up my spine. A gun that has just been wrenched -from the hand of a killer is unlike any other weapon. There's blood on -it, even if no laboratory test can bring it out. - -I didn't know I'd lost anything until I looked down and saw my -wallet lying on the floor at my feet. The energy I'd put into the -blow had not only sent a stab of pain up my wrist to my elbow. It -had jarred something loose from my inner breast pocket that had a -danger-potential, right at that moment, that could have turned the tide -of rage that was sweeping the bar away from the killer and straight in -my direction. Some of it anyway, splitting it down the middle, causing -the drunks who were divided in their minds about what he had done to -change sides abruptly. - -In my wallet was a perforated card, all stippled with tiny dots down -one side, and it said that I was on the passenger list of the next -Mars-bound rocket, and that the Martian Colonization Board clearance -was of a peculiar kind ... very special. - -The wallet had fallen open and the card was in plain view for anyone -to read. It could be recognized by its color alone--a light shade of -blue--and if anyone who felt the way the killer had done about Average -Size had caught sight of it and made a grab for the wallet-- - -I was bending to pick it up when a voice whispered close to my ear. -"Don't let anyone see that card--if you want to stay in one piece. -You'd better get out of here before they start asking questions. They -won't wait for the Spaceport Police to get here. Too many of them -will be in trouble if they don't find out fast where everyone stands. -They'll know how to go about it." - -I couldn't believe it for a minute, because I hadn't seen her come in. -I'd noticed two women at the bar, but not this one--it would have been -impossible for me to have failed to notice so slim a waist or hips so -enchantingly rounded, or the honey-blonde hair piled high, or the wide, -dark-lashed eyes that were staring at me out of a face that would have -made a good many men with their lives at stake forget the meaning of -danger. - -Even if she'd been wedged in tightly between two male escorts at the -bar, I'd have noticed a part of all that. Just one glimpse of the -back of her head, with the indefinable, special quality that makes -beauty like that perceptible at a glance, so that you know what the -whole woman will look like when she turns, would have made so deep -an impression on me that not even the violence I'd participated in a -moment afterwards could have blotted it from my mind. - -It left me speechless for an instant. I just snatched up the wallet, -put it safely back in my pocket and returned her stare in complete -silence. - -"Better keep the gun," she advised. "Your fingerprints are all over it -now. You could clear yourself all right, considering who you are. But -it would be much simpler just to toss it into Lake Michigan, especially -if they decide to let him go and lie about who did the killing." - -I could have wiped the gun clean and tossed it on the floor, but I knew -what was in her mind. You just don't leave a murder weapon lying around -in plain view when you've picked it up right after a killing. It can -lead to all kinds of complications. - -I nodded and stood up. "Thanks for the advice," I said, finding my -voice at last. "There are enough eye-witnesses here to convict him -without this, if just a few of them have a conscience." - -"Don't count on it," she said. "They're angry enough to kill him right -now, because they don't like to see anyone gunned down like that. But -when they've had time to think it over--" - -She was right, of course. There were six or seven men struggling with -the killer now but there were others who weren't. A fight had started -near the middle of the bar and someone was shouting: "The ugly son -deserved what he got! Every man who gets a Mars clearance now has to -play along with the Colonization Board! He has to turn informer and -help them set a trap for anyone who gets in their way. Just depriving -us of our rights doesn't satisfy them. They're scheming to get the -whole Mars Colony for themselves." - -It was the Big Lie--the charge that had done more damage to the Mars -Colony than the shortages of food and desperately needed construction -materials, and almost as much damage as the two major power conflicts -and the transportation difficulties that never seemed to get solved. - -I wanted to go right up to him and grab hold of him and hit him as hard -as I'd hit the Viking character, because he was a killer too--a killer -of the dream. - -But the blonde who seemed to know all the answers and what was wise -and sane and sensible was tugging at my arm and I couldn't ignore the -urgency in her voice. - -"Time's running out on you, Mr. Important Man. If they find out just -who you are, you won't have a chance of getting out of here alive. -Every one of them will be clamoring for your blood. The pity of it, the -terrible pity, is that most of them hate violence as much as you do. -They hate what that wild beast just did. But the Big Lie has made them -hate the Colonization Board even more. Do we go?" - -It came as a surprise that she was leaving with me, and that was -downright idiotic, in a way. With the place in an uproar, a killer -still trying to break loose and a fight under way it would have been -madness for her to stay, and the two other women had vanished without -stopping to talk to anyone. But in moments of stress you can overlook -the obvious and wonder about it afterward. - -We had to move fast and we ran into trouble when two struggling drunks -got in our way. I shouldered one aside and rammed an elbow into the -stomach of the other and we reached the street without being stopped by -anyone who didn't want us to leave. The card was back in my pocket and -not a single one of them had X-ray eyes. - -In another minute or two someone would have probably remembered that -I'd disarmed the Viking character and could have had a reason for the -fast violent way I'd gone about it. Then I'd have been in for the kind -of questioning the blonde had mentioned--a kangaroo court interrogation -before the Spaceport Police could get there. And if my answers had -failed to satisfy them they would have wasted no time in turning my -pockets inside out. - -I'd been spared all that, thanks to that same blonde. And--I didn't -even know her name! - - - - -2 - - -We'd been talking for twenty minutes and I still didn't know her -name. She wasn't being secretive or coy or holding out on me -because she didn't trust me as much as I trusted her. I just hadn't -gotten around to asking her, because we were both still talking -about what had happened at the bar and it was so closely tied in -with what was happening in New York and London and Paris and every -big city on Earth--and on Mars as well--that it dwarfed our puny -selves--extra-special as the blonde's puny self happened to be from the -male point of view. - -I didn't know whether she was Helen or Barbara, Anne or Ruth or -Tanya. I just knew that she was beautiful and that we were sipping -Martinis and looking out through a wide picture window at New Chicago's -lakeshore parklands enveloped in a twilight glow. - -The restaurant was called the Blue Mandarin and it conformed in all -respects to the picture that name conjures up--a diaphanous blue, -oriental-ornate eating establishment with nothing to offer its patrons -that was new, original, exciting, unique. - -But there it was and there it would remain--until Lake Michigan -froze solid. For the moment its artificial decor wasn't important to -either of us. Only the Big Lie and what it was doing to the Martian -Colonization Project. - -"My father was one of the first," she said. "Do you know what it means, -to stand in an empty, desolate waste, forty million miles from home, -and realize you're one of the chosen few--that a city will some day -grow from the seeds you've planted and nourished with your life blood?" - -"I think I do," I said. "I hope I do." - -"He died," she said, "when he was thirty years old, from a Martian -virus they hadn't discovered how to combat until two-thirds of the -first two thousand colonists succumbed to it." - -"Why didn't he take you with him?" I asked. "There were no passenger -restrictions then. The Colonization Board had great difficulty in -finding enough volunteers." - -"My mother refused to go," she said. "I'm afraid ... most women are -more conservative than men. Father died alone, and five years later -Mother married a man who didn't want to be one of the first ten -thousand--or the first sixty thousand. He had no problem. He wasn't -like the men we saw tonight." - -"If every man and woman on Earth wanted to go to Mars," I said, "the -Colonization Board would have no problem. A demand on so colossal a -scale could not be met--in a century and a half. And laws would be -passed to prevent the scheming that's taking place everywhere, the -hatred and the violence. The Big Lie would not be believed." - -"I know," she said. "It's when only twenty thousand can go and five -million want to go that you have a problem. A little hope filters -through, and the five million become envious and enraged." - -I looked at her. I was feeling the glow now, the warmth creeping -through the cells of my brain, the recklessness that alcohol can -generate in a man with a worry that looms as big as the Big Lie, to -the part of himself that isn't dedicated to combating the Lie. The -ego-centered, demandingly human part, the woman-needing part, the old -Adam that's in all of us. - -And suddenly I found myself thinking of Paris in the Spring, and the -sparkling Burgundies of France and vineyards in the dawn and what it -had meant to have a woman always at my side--or almost always--and in -my bed as well. - -New York, flag-draped for Autumn, London in a swirling fog, the old -houses, the dreaming spires, anywhere on the round green Earth where -there was laughter and music and a woman to share it with.... - -All that had been mine for ten years. But now, like a fool, I wanted -Mars as well. Mars was in my blood and I could no longer rest content -with what I had. - -Take it with me to Mars? And why not? It was no problem ... when you -didn't have my problem. A quite simple problem, really. The woman I'd -married wouldn't go with me to Mars. - -She seemed to sense that I was having some kind of inward struggle, -and was feeling a decided glow at the same time, for she reached out -suddenly and took firm hold of my hand. - -"Something's troubling you," she said. "Why don't you tell me about it -while you're feeling mellow. Considering the kind of world we're living -in, mellow is the best way to feel. It wears off quickly enough and -next day you pay for it. But while it lasts, I believe in making the -most of it. Don't you?" - -Should I tell her, dared I? I might have to pay for it with a -vengeance, for she'd probably think me quite mad. And I still had some -old-fashioned ideas about loyalty and happened to be in love with my -wife. - -It was crazy, it made no sense, but that's the way it was. - -I looked at the woman sitting opposite me and wondered how a man could -be in love with one woman and find another so attractive that he'd been -on the verge of coming right out and asking her if she'd go with him to -Mars. - -I looked at her blonde hair piled up high, and her pale beautiful face -and wondered how it would be if I hadn't been married to Joan at all. - -I shut my eyes for a moment, thinking back, remembering the quarrel I'd -had with my wife that morning, the quarrel I'd tried my best to forget -over four straight whiskies at the spaceport bar late in the afternoon. - -It was almost as if it was taking place again, right there at the -table, with another woman sitting opposite me who could not hear Joan's -angry voice at all. - -"I mean every word I'm saying, Ralph Graham. You either tell them -you're staying right here in New Chicago or I'm divorcing you. I won't -go to Mars with you--tomorrow or next year or five years from now. Is -that plain?" - -It was plain enough. To cushion the shock of it, and ease the pain -a little I stared into the fireplace, seeing for an instant in the -high-leaping flames a red desert landscape and a city that towered to -the brittle stars ... white, resplendent, swimming in a light that -never was on sea or land. - -All right, the first Earth colony on Mars wasn't that kind of a city. -It was rugged and sprawling and rowdy. It was filled with tumult and -shouting, its prefabricated metal dwellings scoured and pitted by the -harsh desert winds. But I liked it better that way. - -I wanted to walk its crooked streets, to rejoice with its builders and -creators, to be one of the first sixty thousand. With my mind and heart -and blood and guts I wanted to be there before the cautious, solemn, -over-serious people ruined it for the kind of man I was. - -"I mean it, Ralph," Joan said. "If you go--you'll go alone. All of my -friends are here, all of my roots. I won't tear myself up by the roots -even for you. Much as I love you, I just won't." - -It was five in the morning, and we'd been arguing half the night. In -two more hours daylight would come flooding into the apartment again, -and I'd probably have the worst talk-marathon hangover of my life. - -I suddenly decided to go out into the cool dawn without saying another -word to her, slamming the door after me to make sure she'd realize just -how angry she'd made me. - -I wouldn't even switch on the five A.M. news telecast or stop to take -in the cat on my way out. Women and cats had a great deal in common, I -told myself bitterly. They were arbitrary and stubborn and mysteriously -intent on having their own way and keeping you guessing as to their -real motives. - -By heaven ... if I had to go alone to Mars I'd go. - -So I'd really hung one on, had gone out and made a round of the -lakeside bars. All morning until noon and then I'd sobered up over -coffee and a sandwich and started out again early in the afternoon. It -just goes to show what a quarrel like that can do to a man's nerves and -peace of mind and all of his plans for the future, for I'm not even a -moderately heavy drinker. - - * * * * * - -Early morning bar traveling is barbarous, a lunatic-fringe pastime, and -it was the first time in my life I'd resorted to it. But resort to it -I did, and as the day wore on I gravitated from the lakeside taverns -toward the spaceport in slow stages, and twice in five hours reached -the stage where I couldn't have passed the straight-line test. If I -hadn't sobered up a little at noon I'd have reached the big, dangerous -bar as high as a man can get without falling flat on his face. - -The Colonization Board hadn't even tried to stop what goes on there -around the clock, because there are explosive tensions and hard to -uncover areas of criminality in a city as big as New Chicago it's -wise to provide a safety valve for--when Mars fever is running so -high practically all of us are living in the shadow of a totally -unpredictable kind of violence. - -If anyone had asked me toward the middle of the afternoon what was -drawing me, despite all of my better instincts, in the direction of -death and violence I'd have come right out and told him. - -I had Mars fever too. I hated the Big Lie and all of its ramifications, -knew that every charge that was being hurled at the Colonization Board -was untrue. But I knew exactly how all of the tormented, desperate -men felt, the ones who fought the Big Lie and still had the fever and -needed to be cradled in strangeness and vastness--needed space and a -new frontier to keep from feeling strapped down, walled in, prisoners -in a completely new kind of torture chamber. - -The restlessness was growing because Man had lived too long in a -closed-circuit that had almost destroyed him. The great barrier that -was no longer there had brought the world to the brink of a universal -holocaust, and just knowing that it had been shattered forever was -enabling men and women everywhere to lead healthier lives, set their -goals higher. - -There was nothing wrong with that. Only--not one man or woman in -fifty thousand would see with their own eyes the rust-red plains of -Mars, and the play of light and shadow on a world covered over much of -its surface with wide zones of abundant vegetation. Not one in fifty -thousand would have a new world to rejoice in, after the long journey -through interplanetary space. A world laden with springtime scents, in -the wake of the crash and thunder of the polar ice caps dissolving. - -Or possibly snow piled high on a sleeping landscape, with a thaw just -starting, and the prints of small furry creatures on the white blanket -of snow, for the first colonists had taken animals with them. - -It would take another thirty years for newer, swifter rockets to be -built and the supply problem to be brought under control and the colony -to outgrow its birth pangs and its tumultuous adolescence and become a -white and towering city, as huge as New Chicago. - -And there were some who could not wait, for whom waiting was -destructive to body and mind, a kind of living death too terrible to be -sanely endured. - -The fingers of the woman sitting opposite me were becoming restive, -tightening a little on my hand. It seemed incredible to me that I could -have gone off on that kind of thinking-back tangent when I was so close -to paradise. - -For paradise was there, seated directly across the table from me, -in that crazy twilight hour, if I'd had the courage to seize it -boldly--and if I hadn't been still in love with Joan. - -I could still make a stab at finding out for sure, I told myself, if -I brushed aside all obstacles, if I refused to let my mind dwell on -how I'd feel if something happened to Joan and I lost her forever. How -could she have been so stubborn and foolish, when she was sophisticated -enough to know that no man is insulated against temptation when he is -lonely and despairing and paradise can be his for the taking, if he can -kill just one part of himself and let the rest survive. - -"What is it?" she asked. "You haven't said a word for five minutes. -I'm a good listener, you know. I always have been--perhaps too good a -listener." - -It was the moment of truth, when I had to decide. Mars--and a woman -too. Mars--and the big, important job, and the clatter and bright -wonder of tremendous machines, with swiftly moving parts, whirring, -blurring, dust and the stars of morning, and a woman like that in my -arms. - -I had to decide. - -"What is it?" she asked. "Can't you tell me?" - -"Someday I'll tell you," I said. "But not now. I've a feeling we'll -meet again. Where and how and when I don't know, because by this time -tomorrow I'll be on my way to Mars." - -A pained look came into her eyes and she quickly released my hand. - -"But we've just started to get acquainted," she protested. "You know -nothing about me--or hardly anything. I thought--" - -"It might be best not to know," I said, and I think she must have -realized then just how it was, must have read the truth in my eyes, for -a faint flush suffused her face and she said quickly: "All right. If -that's the way it must be." - -I nodded and beckoned to the waiter, hoping she wouldn't suspect how -vulnerable I still was, how dangerously easy it would have been for me -to alter my decision. - -Ten minutes later I was alone again, with Lake Michigan glimmering at -my back, and only the stars for company. And I still didn't know her -name. - - - - -3 - - -It happened so suddenly it would have taken me completely by surprise, -if the alarm bell hadn't started ringing again in some shadowy corner -of my mind. It wasn't clamorous this time, but it was loud enough to -make me straighten in alarm, with every nerve alert. - -I was standing by a high wall of foliage, close to the lakeside and -had just started to light a cigarette. All at once, directly overhead, -there was a rustling sound that was hard to mistake, for I'd heard it -many times before, and it had a peculiar quality which set it apart -from all other sounds. - -Something was moving through the shadows above me, rustling dry leaves, -slithering down toward me with a dull, mechanical buzzing. - -The buzzing stopped abruptly and there was a flash of brightness, -a long-drawn whining sound. I braced myself, letting my arms swing -loosely at my side. - -With startling swiftness something long, glistening and snakelike -descended upon me and wrapped itself around my right leg just above the -knee. Before I could shake it loose it contracted into a tight knot and -the whining turned into a shrill scream, prolonged, ghastly. It was -quite unlike the scream of an animal. There was something metallic, -rasping about it, as if more than animal ferocity was giving voice to -its pent-up rage in a shrill mechanical monotone. - -The constriction increased and an agonizing stab of pain lanced up -my thigh. I raised my right arm and brought the edge of my hand down -with an abrupt, chopping motion. I chopped downward three times, not -at random, but with a calculated, deadly precision, for I knew that a -misdirected blow could have cost me my life. - -I was in danger only for an instant, and not a very long instant at -that. The damage I'd done to it caused it to release its grip on my -leg, shudder convulsively and drop to the ground. - -Damaged where it was most vulnerable, it writhed along the ground with -groping, disjointed movements of its entire body. Tiny fragments of -shattered crystal glistened in its wake, and two long wires dangled -from its cone-shaped head. - -Its segmented body-case glowed with a blood-red sheen as it writhed -across a flat gray stone on the edge of the lakeshore embankment, and -reared up for an instant like an enormous, sightlessly groping worm. -Then, abruptly, all the animation went out of it, and it flattened out -and lay still. Both of the optical disks which had enabled it to move -swiftly through the darkness had been smashed. I was no longer in any -danger and it was very pleasant just to know that. - -Very pleasant indeed. - -An attempt had been made on my life. There could be no blinking -the fact. That little mechanical horror, with its complex interior -mechanisms, had been set upon me from a distance with all of its -electronic circuits clicking by remote control. - -From just how great a distance I had no way of knowing. But I didn't -think he'd be staying around, near enough for me to get my hands on -him. Killers who made use of such gadgets usually kept their distance, -and were very cautious. - -But at least I knew now that I had a dangerous enemy, someone who -wanted me dead. And there was nothing pleasant about that. - -The human mind is a very strange instrument and it's hard to predict -just how profoundly you'll be upset by an occurrence that's difficult -to dismiss with a shrug. - -You can either turn morbid and brood about it, or rise superior to it -and pigeon-hole it, at least for the moment. By a kind of miracle I was -able to pigeon-hole it, to keep it from standing in the way of what -I'd made up my mind to do before I'd heard the rustling in the foliage -directly overhead. - -I walked back and forth for a moment, resting most of my weight on my -right leg, to make sure I could keep using it without limping and when -I was satisfied a long walk wouldn't be in the least painful I left the -embankment with a feeling of relief and took the first turn on my left. -I was pretty sure it would take me no more than twenty minutes to get -back to the spaceport. - -I knew that what I'd made up my mind to do wasn't going to be easy. -I had to find out exactly how important a job the Colonization Board -had mapped out for me on Mars. She'd called me "Mr. Important Man" -because--you don't get a clearance stamped the way mine was unless -there's a big undertaking in store for you which has to be handled -in just the right way. The walk gave me a chance to think about it. -My leg didn't trouble me at all and I was very grateful for that.... -I stood for a moment just outside the spaceport's railed-off, -electronically-protected launching platforms, staring up at the -three-hundred-foot passenger rockets gleaming with a dull metallic -luster in the moonlight, their nose-cones pointing skyward. - -The New Chicago Spaceport has and always will attract sightseers, -because there's no other rocket launching site on Earth that can -compare with it. It's not only the largest and the most elaborately -equipped. It was built to last. Fifty years from now, in 2070, say, it -was a safe bet the big Mars rockets would be taking off at four-hour -intervals night and day. Now they took off only twice a month and there -were fifty million people in the United States alone who would have -given up comfort, leisure, a well-paying job and every joy they'd ever -experienced or could hope to experience on Earth to be on one of those -big sky ships. - -As far back as I can remember I'd hated to force a showdown with people -who trusted me and believed in me. And that went double for the Martian -Colonization Board, whose members were doing everything possible to -keep me informed. Secrecy sometimes has to be imposed, and if you -try to crack an information clamp-down prematurely you deserve to be -slapped down. - -But now I had no choice. I had to find out if my trip could be -postponed, if I could wait one more week--a month, even--to get Joan to -see things my way. And that meant I had to find out just how big a job -they had lined up for me. - -I had no trouble getting in to see him. There was a guard at the main -entrance of the Administration Building, and when I identified myself -and the massive, double-doors swung inward I had to go through it a -second time, and six more times in all before I reached his private -office on the twentieth floor. But you couldn't call it trouble, -because all I had to do was take out my wallet and display the pale -blue card that was only an incitement to violence in certain quarters. - -In that massive, almost half-mile-long building, on every floor, there -were guards who knew me and guards who had never set eyes on me before. -But what that card stood for was treated with respect. - -I'd known that building to hum with activity, to come to life with a -roar. But now only one floor blazed with light and the rest of the -building was as silent as a mausoleum. - -It happens sometimes and when it does everyone is grateful--including -the man I'd come to visit. - -His private office was at the end of a long corridor in Section C 10 -Y, and I knew I'd find him there, because a small circle of cold light -had been glowing above the office listing board on the main floor. -There was a name plate above the numbered listings--BROWN. His name -wasn't Brown, of course. Or Smith, or Jones. The "Brown" was just a -safety precaution--the sign and seal of immense power being modest in a -genuine way and for expediency's sake as well. - -No man without the kind of card I carried had ever gotten as far as -that office listing board and I doubt if the most ingenious assassin -would have cared to try. But it was just as well to be on the -completely safe side. - -A saluting guard stepped back and what was perhaps the narrowest, least -impressive door in the entire building opened and closed and I found -myself in his presence. - -Unless you're a Gobi desert dweller or live in the precise middle of -the Sahara you've seen the blue-eyed, mild-mannered little man who was -Jonathan Trilling on a hundred lighted screens. In all respects but one -he is the kind of man most people would go right past on the street -without a second glance. - -The thing that made him really not like that at all was something you -couldn't pin down and analyze. If you tried, you'd get nowhere. But it -was there, all right, an emanation you couldn't mistake that stamped -him for what he was, radiating out from him. - -Equate immense simplicity with immense power and you might come up with -a part of the answer. But not all of it. - -The office was stripped of all non-essentials; a hermit's cell couldn't -have been barer. And it seemed to please him when my eyes swept over -the almost bare desk, with just an inkwell and a single sheet of paper -on it, before coming to rest on his face. - -I'm pretty sure he interpreted it as an indication that I was trying to -catch him up on something he took pride in, and he admired me for it, -and greeted me with a chuckle. - -"Well, Ralph!" he said. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight. I -thought you'd be home wearing Joan's patience ragged with the kind of -last-minute preparations women never seem to understand. They like to -think they never forget anything. But they do. They're worse that way -than we are, but just try getting them to admit it." - -There was only one chair in the office and he was occupying it. I -hardly expected him to get up and wave me toward it, but that's -precisely what he did. - -"Sit down, Ralph," he said. "I sit too much. We all do here, I guess. -Can't be helped, but it doesn't give a man of fifty-five much chance -to get the exercise he ought to have, if he's going to keep his weight -down." - -"No--don't get up for me, sir!" I said, then realized I was being -unnecessarily formal. - -The chair was empty and he expected me to take it. And I could see that -he didn't like the "sir." He never had. - -"Sit down, sit down. What is it, Ralph? Something worrying you? You'll -have plenty of time for that when you get to Mars. Why start now?" - -I decided to come right out with it. I favored bluntness as much as he -did, and there was nothing to be gained by talking around what I'd have -to ask him before I left. - -"There's something I'd like to know," I said. "Is the major part of my -assignment still under wraps, or could you tell me more about it--even -if you'd prefer not to?" - -He looked at me steadily for a moment, his lips tightening a little. -"Well--I certainly haven't kept it a complete secret, Ralph. You'll -get full instructions in code later on. There's naturally a reason for -that. I shouldn't have to go into it, because we've discussed it at -great length right here in this office." - -"I realize that," I said. "But could you see your way clear to telling -me much more than you have, if I can convince you that it would help me -solve a problem I can't solve otherwise." - -His eyebrows went up a little at that. "What kind of problem, Ralph?" - -"It's as old as the hills," I said. "The really ancient kind with -fossils embedded in them. It goes right back to the Old Stone Age, -and maybe a lot earlier. Joan doesn't want to go to Mars. She's very -stubborn, very determined about it. If I can't make her change her mind -I'll have to go alone. And I guess I don't have to tell you what that -would do to me. If I just had a little more time, another week or two--" - -"So that's it," he said. "You want me to tell you that your assignment -can be put off, that you're not really needed on Mars. We're just -sending you there because we like to do whimsical things occasionally, -to break the God-awful monotony of thinking about the problems the -project is confronted with in a serious way." - -I was startled, because I'd never known him to indulge in deliberate -irony before. He had all the intellectual equipment for it, but his -mind just didn't work that way. - -Then I suddenly realized he was going to tell me everything I wanted -to know and had just used that approach to make me a little angry and -keep me alert and analytical, so that I wouldn't underestimate the -seriousness of what he was about to say. - -"All right, Ralph," he said. "I'll risk angering a third of the Board. -I'm going to tell you exactly why the Mars Colony is in trouble, and -just how tremendous your task will be. You'll be in the middle, Ralph, -in the biggest clash of interests a new and growing society has ever -known. - -"A clash of interests can destroy any society, if they're violent -enough and have powerful enough backing and the population is divided -in its loyalties and lacks firm and courageous leadership. - -"That's especially true if the society is on a pioneering level, with -serious scarcities developing everywhere and with every man, to some -extent at least, in fierce competition with his neighbors, all apart -from the massive power monopolies that are in even fiercer competition -among themselves. - -"Don't you see, Ralph, don't you realize what that kind of -cross-purpose distribution of power in a new and pioneering society -can mean? When you have a three or four-way conflict, when everyone -is bidding for what you've got and can't afford to sell, or what you -haven't got but would like to sell, or what you can't sell for what -you'd like to get?" - -He smiled suddenly, for the barest instant, and then the seriously -concerned look which the smile had replaced came back into his eyes. -"I didn't intend that to sound facetious. It probably did, because it -has a slightly humorous side to it, like most major tragedies. I'm just -giving you the broad outlines now, the general situation. Frustration, -bitterness, thousands of colonists who can be swayed one way or the -other by corrupt pressures, self-interest, greedy power monopolies." - -"But there's a more specific situation you have in mind, is that it?" I -asked. "Everything you've just said is common knowledge." - -Trilling nodded. "Yes--but the general situation has to be underscored. -It is the crucial factor in everything that is taking place on Mars. In -a more stable, and highly developed society the raw power conflict of -the two major power monopolies would not take so destructive a form." - -"Two?" I said. "I was under the impression--" - -He waved my objection aside. "Oh, there are a dozen power combines. -But only the two giants--Wendel Atomics and Endicott Fuel--have fought -each other to a standstill and threaten the peace, and stability of -the entire colony. I'm putting it too mildly. There's an explosive -potential in that conflict that could destroy the colony overnight." - -He tightened his lips and took a turn up and down the office, then -came back to where I was sitting and gripped me by the shoulder. -"Ralph, listen. This is vital. I'll try to sum it up as briefly as -possible. You know what it cost to set up atomic generators, turbines, -transmission lines, and keep utilities no city can do without in -operation right here in New Chicago, in just one small section of the -city? How much more do you think it costs to do the same thing on Mars? -The transportation of materials alone--Have you any idea how much the -total expenditures come to?" - -"I guess so," I said. "I don't like to think about it." - -"Who does? But we had to think about it. We had to give Wendel Atomics -a thirty-year monopoly. No other power combine had sufficient monetary -resources to undertake it. And we had to give Endicott Fuel the same -kind of monopoly. They transport both atomic and liquid fuels at a cost -that would turn your hair white." - -"And now you say they're locked in a power conflict. But why? I should -think Wendel Atomics would purchase all the fuel it needs directly from -Endicott. And Endicott would--" - -I paused, troubled. - -"What would Endicott do, Ralph? It has no use for atomic generators. -It isn't geared to install them, even if it could somehow absorb the -terrific expense of transporting them. And that, of course, would be -impossible. No combine is wealthy enough to undertake that kind of -two-pronged enterprise." - -"But it wouldn't have to be a two-way exchange of commodities," I said. -"Not if Wendel continued to buy all of its fuel from Endicott. It -would, of course, have a tendency to dwarf Endicott, make it the lesser -of the two monopolies." - -"It would do more than that, Ralph. It could bankrupt Endicott. You -see, Wendel Atomics suddenly decided it was paying Endicott too much -for the fuel it used, and cut the price it was paying in half. And -Endicott could barely meet expenses." - -"Good Lord," I said. - -"Naturally Wendel Atomics couldn't get along without fuel," Trilling -said. "And it couldn't transport fuel for its own exclusive use from -Earth. The two-pronged enterprise factor again. So Endicott struck back -by refusing to sell its fuel to Wendel." - -"A complete stalemate, you mean?" - -"Not quite, Ralph. If it were, one side or the other would have to give -in eventually. Endicott seized on the bright idea of selling atomic and -liquid fuel directly to the Colonists. A wildcat kind of madness. The -colonists buy the fuel on margin and wait for the price to skyrocket. -And every so often it does, because Wendel has to keep its generators -operating. It won't buy from Endicott, but it has no choice but to buy -from the colonists. - -"Do you realize what such wild and dangerous wildcat speculation can -do to a new, rough-and-tumble, frontier kind of society, Ralph? The -colonists don't know whether they're rich or poor from one day to -the next. And with all their desperate needs, their frustrations, -their scrambling after scarce goods and services, their fierce -competitiveness, they are at each other's throats half of the time." - -"I'm beginning to get the picture," I said. - -"It's a very ugly picture, Ralph. Wendel Atomics buys its fuel -sporadically, cheats, steals, connives, beating the price down -artificially and then sending it skyrocketing again. It has its own -private police force. Translate--brutal roughnecks who know exactly how -to keep the colonists in line and frighten them into selling when the -fuel market sags and spending every cent they possess to buy more fuel -on speculation when the price soars. - -"Endicott doesn't care what happens to the colonists. It's out to make -Wendel Atomics come to terms and has methods of its own to keep the -colonists inflamed and reckless. The whole situation has even taken -on a political cast. There are pro-Wendel colonists, who work hand in -glove with the Wendel police and colonists who would willingly lay down -their lives in defense of noble, altruistic Endicott. It's the right of -everyone to buy fuel on speculation, isn't it?" - -"I see," I said. "And my job will be to step right into the middle of -all that, and try to bring order out of chaos." - -Trilling didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at me, but -his gaze was not unsympathetic. - -"There's something I'd like to have you hear, Ralph," he said, when the -silence had lengthened between us and become almost minute-long. "We -have a new, round-the-clock recording to replace the one we've been -transmitting at intervals, night and day, for five years. I won't even -ask you how many times you've heard it, because you travel around a lot -and must have memorized it word for word. But this one is better, I -think. At least, it appeals to me more. A hundred million people will -hear it, starting tomorrow. It will be on every tele-screen." - -He bent over his desk and removed a miniature tape-recorder from the -upper right hand drawer. He set it down on the desk and clicked it on. - -"Just one passage I'd like you to listen to, Ralph. Not the whole -recording. This is it--" - -The voice that came from the tape was a very good reading voice, one -of the best I'd ever heard. The man was probably a poet. But the words -themselves interested me more. - -"... so bright with promise has Man's future become that all of the old -animosities, the old hates, will soon seem alien to us and strange. A -new world is in the making. Who can deny it? The colonization of Mars -has fulfilled the deepest instincts of Man's nature, and provided scope -for a growth that is as natural to him as breathing. - -"The desire to know more, to explore the unknown, to reach out toward -constantly expanding horizons can only be satisfied by boldly accepting -what the advance of modern science has brought within our grasp. The -colonization of Mars is a tribute to Man's stubborn refusal to be -easily discouraged or to let mechanical difficulties, no matter how -formidable, stand in his way. A tribute as well to his constructive -genius, his daring and breadth of vision." - -Trilling clicked the tape recorder off, returned it to his desk, and -turned to face me again. - -"That, Ralph, is the dream," he said. "You and I know what the reality -is like. But the millions who will listen to that recording do not. -They still believe--and hope." - -I was silent for a moment, not quite sure how he'd take what I was -going to say. I went over it in my mind, searching for just the right -words. It took me a full minute to find them, but he didn't grow -impatient. - -"I'm not sure the Board is wise in putting out that kind of propaganda. -Or any kind of propaganda. After all, we're not trying to sell Mars to -anyone. We're doing something that has to be done--you might almost -say we're just trying, in a very earnest way, to plug up a gap in the -biggest dam that was ever built, to keep the flood waters from carrying -us all to destruction." - -"You're wrong, Ralph," he said. "It isn't just propaganda. A dream -always has to go striding on ahead of reality. It may seem strange to -you, but the reality does not frighten or discourage me. Mars is a new -world and on a new world there has to be--not one, but many beginnings." - -He paused an instant, then added: "That's why we're sending you to -Mars, Ralph. There will have to be another beginning. It won't show -too much on the surface. No matter how successful you are, for the -colony will remain what it is basically--an experiment in survival. -All of a new world's energy will remain, and the turbulence and the -hard-to-endure disappointments. But you can help the Colonists go -back, and feel the way they did when the first passenger rocket settled -down on the red desert sand forty million miles from Earth and the -Space Age took on a new dimension." - - - - -4 - - -There was only one small window in Trilling's office. But I could see -that the sky outside was still bright with stars, and the glimmer of -the ceiling lamp made the metal surface above us seem to fall away and -dissolve into a much wider expanse of star-studded space. - -The ceiling-mirrored image of the lamp itself looked like the Sun, -blazing in noonday brightness directly overhead and out beyond were -galaxies and super-galaxies strung like beads on a wire across the -great curve of the universe. - -It was just an illusion, of course. You could see the same thing in the -light-mirroring depths of a glass of wine, if you stared hard enough. -But for an instant it seemed to bring bigness, vastness right into the -room with us. - -I was conscious of the silence again, lengthening, hanging heavy -between us, as if we'd each said too much, or possibly ... not quite -enough. - -Then Trilling bent and removed something else from his desk. I couldn't -see what it was until he set it down directly in front of me, because -it was much smaller than the midget tape recorder and his hand covered -it. - -A flat metal box, wafer-thin, doesn't provide much scope for -speculation, and I was pretty sure that the object inside was a tiny -metal precision instrument or a watch or a medal even before he said: -"This should make Joan change her mind, Ralph!" and snapped the box -open. - -The insignia caught and held the light, a two-inch silver hawk with its -wings outspread. The white lining of the box made it stand out, as if -it were flying through fleecy clouds high in the sky, and symboling in -its flight far more than just the elevation of one man to the highest -command post the Martian Colonization Board had the authority to bestow. - -The significance of that finely-wrought, seldom-worn silver bird -was not lost on me. In the maze of a hundred legends, a hundred -witness-confirmed stories of triumph and disappointment, of heroic -progress and tragic back-tracking, it had remained an important link -between Earthside expectations and what was actually taking place on -Mars. - -Only one man could wear it at any one time, and only four men had worn -it since the establishment of the colony. All four were dead now, their -gravestones a white gleaming on the red desert sand a few miles north -of the colony. - -"Well, Ralph?" Trilling said. - -I tried hard to maintain my composure, to say just the right thing, -because I'd lived long enough to know there are depths beyond depths to -some emotions that can't be put into words. Attempt to talk the way you -feel, and you're sure to sound a little ridiculous. I was only certain -of one thing. No man could wear that insignia and not feel, resting -upon his shoulders, a responsibility so tremendous that whatever pride -he might take in it would have to be tempered by humility--if he wanted -to go on wearing it for long. - -Trilling seemed aware of what was passing through my mind, for he made -it easy for me. He simply smiled, snapped the box shut with a briskness -that was almost casual, and handed it to me. - -"You've got real massive military prestige now, Ralph," he said. "Right -at the moment the Board would be gravely concerned if you wore that -insignia in public. But there's nothing to prevent you from wearing -it in the privacy of your own home. Later on the Board may decide you -can accomplish more by coming right out and letting the colonists know -there's a lion in the streets who intends to do more than just roar. -A safe, protective kind of lion--dangerous only to over-ambitious men -with destructive ideas." - -I started to reply but he waved me to silence. "Hold on, Ralph--let me -finish. You won't be wearing that insignia in public straight off. But -I hope you'll have enough good sense to make the best possible use of -it to overcome the first really big obstacle in your path." - -He nodded. "It will be a kind of blackmail, in a way--morally -reprehensible. You'll be taking advantage of something it isn't in a -woman's nature to resist. But you have no choice. You've got to go to -Mars and if you went alone you'd be about as useful to us as a celibate -kangaroo, all packaged and ready to be sent on a journey to the -taxidermist." - -He seemed to realize it wouldn't have to be quite that drastic, for -he grimaced wryly. "All right, all right. You could go out and find -another woman and I probably could talk the Board into being the -opposite of stuffy about it. But I happen to know what kind of man you -are, and how you feel about Joan. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure -she's the only woman in the world for you." - -There was nothing I could say to that. I had the insignia in my -inner breast pocket, and I knew that there were few obstacles it -couldn't blast away on Earth or on Mars, if I kept remembering what it -symbolized with Joan at my side. - -I went out into the cool night again, past that long tremendous -building with just one of its floors ablaze, past the big sky ships -looming like sentinel ghosts on their launching pads, past winking -lights and speeding cars and pedestrians walking slowly and something -inside of me made me feel I'd undergone a kind of sea change, and could -face whatever the future might hold without grabbing for a life-line -that didn't exist. - -It was a good way to feel. A man had to sink or swim without having -a life-line thrown to him--if he hoped to live long enough to change -things around in an important way on Mars. He had to keep his head and -breast the raging currents with the sturdiest kind of overhand strokes, -or be drawn down into the undertow and battered senseless against the -rocks that lined the shoreline. - -The change must have shown a little on the surface, in the set of -my jaw or just the way I was walking, because no less than three -pedestrians turned to stare at me as I went striding past them on my -way to the New Chicago Underground. - -I was almost at the northern entrance of the big, tree-lined square -directly opposite the Administration Building when it hit me--the -memory-recall, the swift emergence from its cubby-hole deep in my mind -of the narrow brush I'd had with Death and hadn't even discussed with -Trilling. - -It had been a mistake not to discuss it, because it concerned the Board -as much as it did me. Someone who knew about the insignia--or had made -a shrewd guess as to just how big a job was awaiting me on Mars--had -wanted me dead. The attempt on my life took on a much larger, more -crucial dimension when viewed in that light. - -There were three hundred million people in the United States, and if -I'd been just a private citizen, with no more than my own safety at -stake, I could have lost myself in that immense ocean of humanity for -a week or a month and gained a brief respite. There are plenty of ways -you can protect yourself against a surprise attempt on your life, if -you have the time to take safety precautions. When there's a would-be -assassin at large who is dead set on measuring you for a coffin you -have to work the problem out carefully, with a minimum of risk. - -It takes skill and psychological insight, but it can be done. You've -just got to remember that an assassin is never quite normal. Even when -a socio-political motivation is the governing passion of his life -you're one jump ahead of him the instant you've figured out exactly how -his mind works. - -In fact, one of those safety precautions could have been protecting me -as I crossed the square, if I hadn't let my stubborn pride stand in the -way. Why hadn't I asked Trilling to provide me with armed protection? - -Two alert bodyguards, trailing me on the street and down into the -Underground and standing watch outside my apartment all night long--and -staying fifty paces behind me until the Mars' rocket zero-count ended -and the big sky ship took off with a roar ... would have given the -Board the kind of reassurance they had a right to expect. - -I started to turn back, then changed my mind abruptly. I'd taken just -as great a risk by walking from the lakeside to the skyport right after -the attack, hadn't I? And I'd be in the Underground in another three or -four minutes, with people around me and-- - -All right. It was an out-of-focus rationalization and nothing more--an -attempt to find an excuse for not turning back. But when I do something -reckless for complicated reasons, when I've forged ahead despite -my better judgment, I'm usually just impulsive enough to carry the -folly-ball all the way across the goal line. - -It was the thing I'd have to guard most against on Mars, that -damnable twisted pride and impulsiveness, that taking of too much for -granted when I started to do something I knew was unwise, but had an -overpowering urge to carry out anyway. - -Every weaving shadow beneath the double row of trees that towered -on both sides of me could have cloaked a crouching figure adjusting -another small mechanical killer to the deadliest possible angle of -flight. But I had another reason for not wanting to go back. Trilling -might fall in with the armed guard idea but I doubted it like hell. -I could picture him saying instead: "Ralph, even an armed car can be -blown up. You're staying under lock and key all night ... right here in -the Administration Building." - -I could even picture him saying much the same thing to Joan, her image -bright enough on his office tele-screen to be visible from where I'd be -standing: "He's not coming home tonight, Joan. We're sending an armored -car to pick you up in the morning. Wait, hold on--I'll let you talk to -him!" - -And I could almost hear her replying: "Don't bother to send the car. -I'm not going with him. Please don't think too harshly of me, please -try to understand. I just can't--" - -I started down the long boulevard on the far side of the square, still -walking rapidly and feeling suddenly confident I'd been justified -in not turning back. I could see the entrance to the Underground -glimmering in the darkness a hundred feet ahead of me and there were -people all around me walking in both directions. I wasn't even troubled -by the feeling that everyone gets at times--that something terrible and -unexpected can happen right in the midst of a crowd, if only because -the presence of many people exposes you to a dangerously wide range of -unpredictable human emotions. - -For the barest instant, when I crossed the narrow strip of pavement -directly in front of the kiosk, fear tugged at my nerves and I felt -myself growing tense. But I became calm again the moment I looked -around and saw that the only pedestrian within thirty feet of me was a -hurrying girl with a portfolio under her arm. When she saw how intently -I was staring at her she frowned and a look of annoyance came into her -eyes. - -Oh, for God's sake, I told myself, get rid of this nagging uncertainty, -and stop behaving like a fool. If he intended to try again tonight I'd -know by now. He's missed a dozen very good chances, so something must -be making him super-cautious, if he hasn't keeled over just from the -strain of watching me refuse to die. Killing's never easy, even for a -professional. It must be a little like being cut open, watching your -own blood pouring out of you, because all violence inflicts a two-way -trauma ... severe enough at times to make even a mad slayer fling down -his gun before going on a rampage of indiscriminate slaughter. - -There were arguments I could have used to wrap it up even tighter--such -as the way he'd be trapped and blasted down almost instantly if he -launched another attack on me so close to the spaceport's three -interlocking, hyper-sensitive security alert systems. - -But I didn't even pause to weigh them, because right up to that minute -I'd done very well, and the fear which had come upon me had been as -brief as an autumnal flurry of wind when you're coming around a tall -building at breakneck speed. - - * * * * * - -I let the girl dart past me, taking my time, and in another five -seconds was descending into the big, brightly lighted cavern that was -New Chicago's intercity pride. - -As every school kid knows, the New Chicago Underground is six years -old, and is the largest, smoothest-running transportation system in the -world. It cost seven billion dollars to build and has almost as many -tracks and suburban off-shoots as station guards. - -It interlocks, spirals outward in a half dozen directions and -circles back upon itself. In a way, it's like the serpent you see -in bas-reliefs dating back three thousand years, in Babylonian and -Pre-Dynastic Egyptian tombs, for instance, or on totem poles in the -Northwest ... a serpent that's continually swallowing its own tail. -It's the oldest archeological art-form on Earth and is supposed to -symbolize Eternal Life. - -But to some people at least the New Chicago Underground symbolizes -something far more gloomy. If you're not careful to board just the -right train you can get lost in its tomblike, spiraling immensity and -feel as helpless as a wandering ghost or an experimental laboratory -animal caught up in a blind maze. You can be carried fifty miles -in the wrong direction and look out through the windows of a train -traveling at half the speed of sound, and see a country landscape or -the wide sweep of Lake Michigan five minutes after you've settled down -in a comfortable chair and become absorbed in the news of the day on -micro-film. - -You'll stare out and the section of the city where your home is located -just won't be sweeping past. You'll have to get off at the next -station, perhaps twenty or thirty miles further on, ride back, and -board another train. It's seldom quite as frustrating as that, but only -because most of the riders have been conditioned to keep their wits -about them through a nightmare kind of trial-and-error apprenticeship. - -You've got to stay alert until you've boarded a train with just the -right combination of numerals on its destination plate. It isn't hard -to do, unless you're carrying a tiny silver hawk in a wafer-thin -case, and your destination may be changed without warning and with -unbelievable infamy by someone capable of great evil who would much -prefer not to have you board a train at all. - -I could almost picture him weaving in and out between the platform -crowds--faceless so far, but quite possibly glassy-eyed with little -waltzing death-heads in the depth of his pupils. An unknown human -cipher intent on my destruction, refusing to be discouraged by the -failure of a small mechanical killer to do the job for him. - -If I'd had a strong reason to believe I actually was being followed, if -he'd come right out into the open and I could have caught a glimpse of -him, however brief, I'd have felt a subconscious relief that would have -kept me on guard and confident. It would have given me an edge that not -even the fact that I had no gun could have taken away from me. - -It's the unknown and unpredictable that's unnerving, the realization -that invisible eyes may be scrutinizing you from a distance and the -brain behind them deciding that it would be a great mistake to let a -failure of nerve or concern for the consequences interfere with what -had to be done. - -He wouldn't be wanting me to wear that insignia ever--on Earth or on -Mars--and just knowing that made me almost miss my train as it came -rushing toward me. - -The train was so crowded I had to stand, but I had no complaint on -that score. In a seat, with people jamming the aisle in front of me, -I'd have been wedged in even more securely. In a standing position I -could edge forward and back and keep an eye on the passengers who were -holding fast to the horizontal support rail on both sides of me. - - - - -5 - - -There were twenty-five or thirty passengers wedged into the middle -section of the train, all standing in slightly cramped postures and -most of them unsmiling. I knew exactly how they felt. Not being able -to get a seat in an off-hour in the evening can be irritating. But -right at the moment there was no room in my mind for annoyance. A -slow, hard-to-pin-down uneasiness was creeping over me again, as if a -pendulum were swinging back and forth somewhere close to me, ticking -out a warning in rhythm--and I couldn't shut out the sound of it. - -Just my over-strained nerves, of course. How could it have been -anything else? I turned and looked at the man standing next to me. He -was middle-aged, conservatively dressed, and had a square-jawed, rather -handsome face, with a dusting of gray at his temples. - -He was frowning slightly and his expression didn't change when I broke -the rule of silence which was customarily observed in the Underground. - -"No reason for all the seats to be gone at this hour," I said. - -The crazy kind of over-exuberance mixed with peevishness that makes -some people say things like that to total strangers a dozen times a day -had always seemed inexcusable to me. But when you're under tension you -sometimes break all the habits of rational behavior you've imposed on -yourself in small matters. - -My excuse was that I simply wanted to test the firmness and steadiness -of my own voice, to make sure that, deep down, I wasn't nearly as -apprehensive as I was beginning to feel. - -"Yes, I know," the gray-templed man agreed. "It burns me up a little -too. But I guess it just can't be helped at times. Operating an -Underground this size must be an awful train-scheduling headache." - -"Headache or not," I said. "There's no excuse for it." - -He smiled abruptly, exposing large, white teeth and I noticed that -there was something almost birdlike in the way his eyes lighted up. -Small, black, very bright eyes they were, under short-lashed lids, and -quite suddenly he made me think of a magpie alighting on a limb, taking -off and alighting again, hardly able to restrain an impulse to chatter. - -"What it boils down to," he said, "is the old quarrel between a -pedestrian and a man in a car. Neither can understand or sympathize -with the other's point of view. Fifteen million people ride this -Underground every day and to them it's a poor slob's service at best. -That's because they feel themselves to be the victims, at the receiving -end. But you've got to remember that safety precautions pose a problem. -Avoiding accidents comes first and the New Chicago Transportation -System, considering its colossal size, does pretty well in that -respect." - -"People have been killed," I said, and could have bitten my tongue -out. Why let him even suspect that I was thinking about something that -wasn't tied in with his argument at all, why give him the slightest -hint? The Underground's accident record was good and couldn't have -justified such cynicism on my part. And just suppose he wasn't the -garrulous, middle-aged business man he appeared to be-- - -A very sinister game can start in just that way, with everything -favoring the alerted party until he lets the other know that he's on -his guard and is having uneasy thoughts. That's where the danger lies, -in a subconscious betrayal, a slip of the tongue that will precipitate -violence faster than it would ordinarily occur. - -If a killer feels that he must move swiftly, before suspicion can -become a certainty, the odds shift in his favor. He has the advantage -of surprise. He becomes alerted too, and necessity acts as a goad--a -kind of trigger-mechanism. He'll act more quickly and decisively, -without the careful planning that may prompt him to talk too much and -give himself away. - -He'll take risks that are dangerous and could destroy him, strike -with witnesses present and all escape routes blocked. If he has to, -he'll strike even in a crowded Underground train with the next station -minutes away. And that kind of audacity sometimes pays off. - -I told myself that I was imagining things, jumping to a completely -unwarranted conclusion. The conversation of the man next to me was -exactly what you'd expect from a magpie. He was carefully sidestepping -all realistic appraisals of the Underground's shortcomings, trying his -best to look at the problem from all sides, even if it meant being -shallow and over-optimistic. He was the citizen with a smiling face, -the rather likeable guy--why should one hold it against him?--who was -trying his best to be fair to everybody, even if he had to burst a -blood-vessel doing it. - -Realizing all that made me feel less tense and part of the nightmare -feeling I'd been experiencing went away. But not quite all of it and -when the train passed into an unlighted tunnel and the aisle went dark -apprehension began to mount in me again. - -What if he was putting on an act, and wasn't the kind of man he -appeared to be at all? What does a killer look like? Certainly age had -nothing to do with it. He can be young or old--eighteen or seventy-five. - -His appearance, his clothes? There were wild-eyed killers with "psycho" -stamped all over them, and dignified, soberly-dressed men who looked no -different from your next door neighbor and had criminal records a yard -long, including, in all likelihood, a murder or two the Law would have -a difficult time proving. - -I didn't have to speculate about it. I _knew_, because I'd done more -than my share of social research. There was nothing to prevent a man of -distinction from becoming a killer, if he had a secret life that was -ugly and devious and a powerful enough motive. - -But now he was talking again, despite the darkness, and I was listening -with my nerves on edge. I was completely in the dark as to why -something about him had set the alarm bells ringing but I was sure I -could hear them, very faint and distant this time, but clearly enough. -It was funny. Sometimes it meant something and sometimes it didn't. I -could feel that danger was hovering right at my elbow and in the end -discover I'd been completely mistaken. - -I hoped I was mistaken this time, but I knew there was a -possibility--remote, perhaps, but dangerous to ignore--that the man -who had set the small mechanical killer in motion by the Lakeside had -followed me from the Administration Building into the Underground and -was standing by my side. - -"You take one of the really big power combines," he was saying. -"Like, say, Wendel Atomics. It has its defenders and detractors, and -I daresay there are quite a few people who would be happy to see its -Board of Directors behind bars. I'm not defending the Wendel monopoly, -understand. If I was a Martian colonist I might feel quite differently -about it. But you've got to remember that when you give the go-ahead -signal for a project that big you're asking fifty or a hundred key -executives to do the impossible--or pretty close to the impossible." - -"The impossible?" I said, trying to sound no more than mildly -interested, because I didn't want him to suspect what a jolt his -mention of Wendel Atomics had given me. - -"Oh, yes," he went on. "That's what it boils down to. Every one of -those men will be as human as you or I. They'll react in highly -individual ways to every problem that comes up, every frustration, -every serious interference with their private lives. You've got to -remember that a man's private life is the most important thing in the -world--to him personally. Every one of those fifty or a hundred men -will have health worries, money worries, love life worries, every kind -of worry you can think of. And on Mars worries can pile up." - -"So I've heard," I said. - -"Well, that's all. That sums it up. I'm simply citing Wendel as an -example of what the New Chicago Transportation System is up against. -I'd say, in general, that most of the directors are doing their best, -when the Old Adam in them isn't in the driver's seat, to keep the -trains running on schedule." - -He stopped talking abruptly. I didn't think anything of it for a -moment, for a loquacious man will often pause in the middle of a -conversation to wonder what kind of dent he's been making on the party -who's doing most of the listening. But when a full minute passed and -the darkness held, and he didn't say a word, when I couldn't even hear -him breathing, I began to grow uneasy. - -Reach out and touch him? Well, why not? It was the simplest, quickest -way of finding out whether he was still at my side and he could hardly -be offended if my hand grazed his elbow in a jostling motion that would -seem accidental. - -It was very strange. I didn't think he was the man I'd feared he might -be any longer, because of what he'd said, because he had brought Wendel -Atomics into the conversation. If he'd _had_ designs on my life giving -his hand away like that would have been the height of folly. It would -have been like giving me cards and spades, and a detailed history of -his activities for the past five years. - -It didn't take any gifted reasoning to figure that out and I didn't -pride myself on it. Even a child could have done it. What disturbed me -and kept me from feeling relieved was something quite different. The -alarm bells were still ringing. _They were still ringing._ - -Louder now and with a dirgelike persistence, as if I was already dead -and buried. And neither a child nor a grown man could have figured that -one out. - -That's why I felt I had to reach out and touch him, had to start him -talking again ... had to be sure he was still there at my side. - -He was there, all right. He was there in the most alarming possible -way, as a dead weight lurching against me, then swaying and screaming -as I tried to straighten him up, and stop the terrible downward drag of -his sagging body. - -He was sinking lower and lower, clutching at my knees now, refusing -to take advantage of the support I was offering him. I strained and -tugged, but it was no use. He was too heavy to raise and I could hear -the breath wheezing out of his throat and there could be no mistaking -the weight of horror that was making him twist and writhe as he -sagged--the deadliness of whatever it was that had struck at him in the -darkness without making a sound. - -He screamed again. It was the kind of agonized protest which could only -have come from the throat of a man who hardly knew what was happening -to him ... a man with his terror heightened and made more acute by -the awful, groping-in-the-dark realization that he was experiencing a -torment he was powerless to explain. - -There had to be an answer but I didn't know what it was, and when -the scream died away and the tugging stopped all I could hear for an -instant was the steady droning of the train. Then there was another -violent movement close to me and a harsh intake of breath. - -My hand shot out, grazed something smooth that whipped away from me and -caught hold of a wrist that was much thinner than a man's wrist had any -right to be. - -Much softer too, velvety soft, and it tugged and jerked in a frantic -effort to free itself, holding tight to the knife that it would have -taken all of a woman's strength to plunge deep into my heart. - -But she could have done it, whoever she was, for there was a wiry -strength in her--a strength so great that I had to twist her wrist -cruelly before her fingers relaxed and the knife dropped to the floor -of the train. - -She gasped in pain--or was it fury?--and exerted all of her strength -again in a desperate effort to break my grip. And this time luck was on -her side. No, call it what it was. Luck may have figured, but most of -it was plain blundering stupidity on my part. I was pretty sure I knew -what her first, misdirected blow with the knife had done to the man I'd -been talking to, and the thought so sickened and unnerved me that my -fingers relaxed a little when the knife went clattering, and she took -advantage of that to break free. - -The passengers were crowding me now, pushing, shoving in alarm, and I -knew it would be easy enough for her to force her way between them, -still exerting all of her strength and get far enough away to be just -one of the thirty terrified people when the train roared out into the -light again. They'd all look disheveled, on the verge of panic and I -wouldn't have a chance of identifying her. - -How could I have identified her with any certainty, even if she'd -been the only one with a guilty stare? I hadn't the least idea what -she looked like. I only knew that she wasn't old, was all woman in -her lithe softness, the opposite of an Amazon despite her strength. -The femininity which had emanated from her--how instantly it can make -itself felt, how instinctively overwhelming it can be!--had made me -feel like a brute for an instant, even though I'd known it was her life -or mine and I would have been quite mad to spare her. - -There were men I could think of, the opposite of brutes, who would have -knocked her unconscious with a blow to the head. To spare a determined -killer is potentially suicidal, but I doubted if I could have done that. - -I was still doubting it an instant later, when the train emerged from -the unlighted tunnel and the bright glare of the Underground lamps -flooded the aisle, bringing the man she'd stabbed by accident into -clear view. - -I was sure by now that she'd stabbed him by accident in a try for me, -but that wasn't going to help him at all. He had flopped over on his -back and was lying sprawled out in the middle of the aisle, and his -eyes stared up at me, sightless and glazed. - -There was no blood either on or beside him, but that only meant that -he'd been stabbed in the back and there hadn't been time for blood from -the wound to stain the edge of his clothes and trickle out from beneath -him across the aisle. - -His face had the pallor of death and his lips were drawn back over the -large white teeth I'd noticed when he'd been talking to me. Drawn back -in a stiff, unnatural grin and I didn't have to bend down and listen -for a heartbeat I knew I wouldn't hear to be completely sure that the -words he'd spoken to me would be the last he'd ever speak on Earth. - -Just the way his head lolled, back and forth with the rhythmic -throbbings of the train, would have clinched it for me. And I couldn't -have bent down, because the other passengers were all staring at him -too now, and elbowing me away from him to get a closer look, torn -between morbid curiosity and stark terror. - -I was too shaken, too sick at heart, to resent the elbowing. There was -anger in me too, cold, uncompromising and right at that moment I could -no longer even think of her as a woman. - - * * * * * - -It was past midnight when I got home and let myself into the apartment. -I was more shaken than I would have cared to admit to anyone who didn't -know me as well as Trilling did, because casual acquaintances can do -you an injustice and judge the extent of your control by the way you -happen to be looking at the moment. - -I was quite sure that I was looking _very_ bad, and however severely -I'd been shaken up by what had happened I still had a fair measure of -control over my emotions. - -I hadn't stayed in the train or on the platform to assist in the -investigation, but I didn't feel guilty about it. Trilling could square -all that with the authorities easily enough and he wouldn't have wanted -me to talk to the police and have to identify myself. I was sure of -that. My evidence would be taken down and turned over to the proper -authorities in good time. The rule for me--the only rule I had a right -to consider--was no entanglements. - -I shut and locked the front door and almost called out: "It's me, -darling!" as I usually do when I come home late, because when Joan is -alone in the apartment and hears a door opening and closing she gets -angry when I just walk in unannounced. It's part woman-curiosity, part -fear, I guess--the thought that it could be a prowler and why should -she be kept in suspense while I'm hanging up my hat and coat? - -But this time something prevented me from calling out. Possibly the -quarrel we'd had was still rankling a little deep in my mind and I -wasn't quite sure how she'd take the "Darling." - -My stubborn pride again. Or possibly it was just the feeling I had that -the apartment was quieter than usual, that when you're keyed up and -alert enough to hear a pin drop and you hear nothing--just a stillness -that's a little on the weird side--your anxiety becomes too great to be -relieved by calling out a cheery greeting. - -I felt somehow that it would be wiser, and set better with the way I -felt, if I just hung up my coat and walked into the living room without -saying a word. - -So I walked into the living room without saying a word and she was -sitting right in the middle of it, on a straight-back chair with all of -her bags packed and standing on the floor by the window, and with all -of my bags packed and standing cheek-by-jowl with hers, and the three -trunks that were going with me to Mars all sealed up and double-locked, -and she wasn't angry or shaking her head or looking at the luggage with -scorn. - -There was pride in her lustrous brown eyes and the adorable tilt of -her chin, and a warmth and a tenderness, and she was smiling at me and -nodding. - -"Oh, darling," she said. "Darling ... darling ... come here. Did you -think I'd ever let you go to Mars without me? It was just talk--just -stubborn, wild, crazy talk and it didn't mean a thing." - -If you marry a woman like Joan and ever have a moment of doubt ... -well, it means you ought to have your head examined. But you're twice -as far removed from sanity if you throw away the check. For you can -always be sure it will be redeemed eventually, in full measure and -brimming over. - -I didn't even have to put on my uniform and attach the small silver -hawk to it. - - - - -6 - - -We were not the only passengers in the eight-cabined forward section -of the big sky ship which had been assigned to us. But it had taken us -almost a week to get acquainted. To get really acquainted, that is, so -that we could relax and feel at ease and really enjoy one another's -company. - -We were sitting in lounge chairs on the long promenade deck that ran -parallel with all eight of the cabins, staring out through translucent -crystal at a wide waste of stars. - -Sitting in the first chair was a tall, sturdily built man of -thirty-eight, with keen blue eyes and a dusting of gray at his temples. -His name was Clifton Maddox and he was an electronic engineer. He had -stories on tap that could turn your hair white, because he had been to -Mars and back eight times. - -Seated next to him, with her hand resting lightly on his arm, was a -woman in her early twenties, with honey-blonde hair and eyes that held -unfathomable glints and an enigmatical ingenuousness that could keep a -man guessing in an exciting way. Her name was Helen Melton and she had -eyes only for the man at her side. She had managed to make of the trip -a continuous honeymoon, despite a few lovers' quarrels and the stern -exactions which her work as a medical laboratory technician had imposed -on her. - -I mention these two because they were fairly typical of the group as a -whole. They were all unusual individuals, the kind of people you take -a liking to straight off, when you meet them casually at a party and -exchange a few words with them that you keep remembering for days. - -Joan and I sat in the last two chairs on the promenade deck, a little -apart from the others. Joan was deep in a book and a little weary of -talking and I ... was thinking about the robots. - -The robots were a story in themselves--a story that could bear a great -deal of re-telling. If right at that moment I'd had a son--a bright and -eager lad of six or eight--I'd have set him on my knee and talked about -the robots. - -The five hundred passengers in the big sky ship were not alone in the -long journey through interplanetary space. In the last years of the -twentieth century, I'd have taken pains to make very clear to him, and -in the early years of the twenty-first, a great new science had grown -from an infant into a giant. - -The science of cybernetics, of giant computers that could do much -of Man's thinking for him on a specialized technological level, had -transformed the face of the Earth and was continuing to transform it at -a steadily accelerating pace. - -The rocket's four giant computers were of the newest and most efficient -type--humanoid in aspect, with conical heads, massive metal body-boxes, -and three-jointed metal limbs which had all of Man's flexible -adaptability in the carrying out of complex and difficult tasks. - -Robotlike and immense, they towered in the chart room with their -six-digited metal hands on their metal knees, their electronic circuits -clicking, their tiers of memory banks in constant motion, but otherwise -outwardly indifferent to the human activity that was taking place -around them. - -Four metal giants in a metal rocket, functioning cooperatively with -Man in the gulfs between the planets, might have made an imaginative -fiction writer of an earlier age catch his breath and glory in -the fulfillment of a prophecy. An H. G. Wells perhaps, or an Olaf -Stapledon. But the reality was an even greater tribute to the human -mind's inventive brilliance than the Utopian dream had been. - -The four giant computers were capable of solving problems too technical -for the human mind to master without assistance, usually with -astounding swiftness and always with the more-than-human accuracy of -thinking machines whose prime function was to correlate without error -the data supplied to them on punched metallic tapes, and to perform -intricate mechanical tasks based upon that data. - -The robots were tremendous, by any yardstick you might care to apply, -and if I'd had a son-- - -I stopped thinking about the robots abruptly and sat very still, -listening. A sound I'd heard a moment before had come again, much -louder this time--a chill, unearthly screeching. - -The chart room was just outside the eight-cabin section and I could -hear the sound clearly. My nerves again, my over-stimulated imagination? - -In space strange and unusual sounds are as common as pips on a radar -screen. It was queer how quickly you got used to them. You had to -walk around with your ears plugged up, in a sense, but the plugs -didn't have to be inserted. They were just natural growths inside your -ears--invisible and without substance, but plugs notwithstanding. -They produced a kind of psycho-somatic deafness which didn't otherwise -interfere with your hearing. - -Just the very unusual sounds, the totally inexplicable raspings, -dronings, creakings--usually of short duration--were blotted out. - -You didn't hear them unless something deep in your mind whispered: -"This one is different. This is an emergency. Take heed!" - -The screeching was very different. It was like nothing I'd ever heard -before, on Earth or in space. - -The others must have heard it too, for it had been too loud, the second -time, to be ignored. But apparently that strange acceptance of strange -noises in space which goes with the kind of deafness I've mentioned -had only been shattered for me. The six men and women in the lounge -chairs had looked a little startled for a moment and exchanged puzzled -glances. Which meant, of course, that they had heard it despite the -mental earplugs in some inner recess of their minds. But that didn't -prevent them from shrugging it off and resuming their conversation. - -Joan also looked a trifle uneasy. She stopped reading just long enough -to raise her eyes and frown, then became absorbed in the book again. - -I got up quietly and pressed her wrist. "See you," I said. - -She shut the book abruptly and straightened in her chair. "Where are -you going, Ralph?" - -"Just stay right where you are, kitten," I said. "I'll be back in a -moment." - -"That screeching noise," she said. "I was wondering about it, Ralph. I -guess you'd better see what's causing it." - -So she'd been disturbed by it too, and ignoring it had taken a -deliberate effort of will which I hadn't realized she was exerting. It -made me happy in an odd inner way, because it proved again what I'd -always known ... that we were very close and there were currents of -understanding which flowed back and forth between us and I had a wife I -could be proud of. - -"It's probably nothing," I said, not wanting to alarm her. "But I might -as well take a look. It seems to be coming from the chart room." - -"All right," she said and squeezed my hand. - -I had to open and shut two sliding panels and pass along a blank-walled -passageway to get to the chart room. To my surprise the door was -standing open. It's usually kept locked, because there's no section of -the sky ship where a man who didn't want anyone to suspect that he -harbored within himself the most dangerous kind of destructive impulses -could do more damage. - -The shattering of a photo-electric eye or the ripping out of a single -live connection in just one of the four cybernetic robots could have -wrecked the rocket, and sent it spiraling down through the space gulfs -in flaming ruin, depending on just how vital to the robot's functioning -the shattered part happened to be. - -There was a security alert system which would have to be disconnected -first, but anyone resourceful enough to get inside the chart room -at all, without identification-disk proof that he had a right to be -there, would have known precisely how to take care of the preliminary -obstacles. - -I didn't waste any time in getting to that wide-open door, for my mind -was racing on ahead of me like the most alerted kind of alarm system, -its jaggling warning me that every second counted and that what I -dreaded most might very well be true. - -What I actually saw, when I reached the doorway and stood there looking -in, took me completely by surprise. It wasn't the way I'd pictured it -at all. But it was just as unnerving, just as much of a threat to the -safety of the ship and it startled me so I must have looked almost -comic, standing there idiot-still. But there was nothing comic about -what I saw. - -The woman I'd almost asked to go to Mars with me was staring straight -at me, her hair still piled up high, a look of terrified appeal in her -eyes. She wasn't alone. She was struggling furiously with a crewman I'd -talked to a few times and neither liked nor disliked--a heavyset man -with high cheekbones and pale blue eyes. He was gripping her savagely -by the wrist and they were both backed up against one of the robot -giants. - -Suddenly as I stared her head went back and a convulsive trembling -seized her. She began to scream. - - - - -7 - - -It was a christ-awful moment--for her and for me. For her because she -had no right to be in the Chart Room, or even on the ship, as far as -I knew, and there was a look on the crewman's face that chilled me to -the core of my being. It went beyond the anger of a duty-obsessed man, -outraged by her infringement of the regulations. It was a completely -different kind of anger. There was a savage cruelty, a killing rage in -his eyes, impossible to misinterpret. - -It was just as awful a moment for me, because I wasn't sure I could get -to him before he broke her wrist or did something worse to her. I'd -seen a woman kneed in the groin once, by just such an enraged human -animal, and the memory of it had never left me. A strong man, turned -maniacal, could kill with his hands in a matter of seconds. I'd seen -that happen too, and the victim hadn't been a woman, but a man as -powerful as the killer. - -I crossed the Chart Room in a running leap, grabbed him by the -shoulders and swung him about, raining blows on him more or less at -random. I just tried to hit him as hard as I could without caring -much where the blows landed, so long as they resounded with a meaty -smack where they would do the most good. My only aim was to stun -and, if possible, cripple him in a terrible, punishing way, so that -he'd release his grip on the wrist of the woman he'd been trying to -hurt before she screamed again and her hand dangled with a sickening -limpness, making me want to permanently demolish him in slow and -painful stages. - -For a moment I was only sure of one thing. My fist had smashed very -solidly into his face at least twice and drawn blood. I could see the -gleam of blood on his jaw as he reeled back, and I was almost sure I'd -heard his nose crack. There was nothing wrong with that, but it didn't -satisfy me. I wanted to turn his face into quivering jelly. But most -of all I was hoping, praying that she'd break free before I set about -doing that, because a voice was screaming deep in my mind that if she -couldn't he might still be capable of injuring her cruelly. - -She broke free. Just how I don't know, because the punishment I'd -dished out hadn't stunned him. He could still have fractured her wrist, -judging by the look of blazing fury he trained on me. - -His determination to repay me in full probably explained it. He needed -both of his hands free for that, because I could see that what he would -have liked to do most was get a strangler's grip on my throat. - -The human windpipe doesn't fracture easily, as every experienced -medical examiner knows. It's elastic and it gives, and post-mortem -appearances prove that you can die by strangulation with your windpipe -intact. But I have a horror of anything like that, and I didn't intend -to let his fingers come anywhere near my throat. - -I smashed my fist into his groin twice, putting so much -shoulder-to-elbow resilience into the blows that he bent almost double, -wrapped his arms about his middle just above his groin and went -staggering backwards. - -They were below-the-belt beltings, but I didn't give a damn about that. -Manhandling a woman just because she hasn't the strength of a male has -always seemed to be just about the worst crime on the books. All -right ... attacking a child is worse but you certainly forfeit all -right to Queensberry Rules consideration when you're called to account -for using your strength against anyone weaker than yourself, unless -he or she has done something vicious and there's a hell of a good -justification for it. - -I no longer wanted to permanently demolish him, now that she'd broken -free. But I had no control over what happened. The deck of the Chart -Room is all smooth metal, and the polishing preparation that's used to -keep it bright makes it almost as skid-slippery as a skating rink, if -you happen to be thrown a little off-balance. - -He was off-balance just enough to change his backward lurch from a -stagger to a swaying, spinning glide that sent him crashing against the -base of a robot giant. - -Up to that instant the four robot giants had looked exactly alike. But -a robot in motion looks quite different from a robot at rest, with -its massive metal hands on its metal knees, and its gleaming central -section in an upright position. The crash was followed by a splintering -sound which continued for several seconds without stopping. There was -a whirring as well, and a blinding flash of light came from the metal -giant's conical head. Almost instantly the robot was in motion, and -the way it swayed as it raised its segmented right arm high into the -air so alarmed me that I shouted a warning to the man I'd just finished -trying to send to the sick bay for a stay of at least two weeks. - -The jerky, erratic way the robot giant was swaying could only mean -that the crash had damaged its internal gadgetry, and it had gone -completely out of control. It was shaking and quivering all over and -even its ponderous central section seemed to bulge a little, as if from -hunger-bloat. - -That, of course, was absurd. But it's natural enough to think of a -robot as human and take refuge in absurdity when you know that a -cybernetic brain, encased in a functional body, can do just as much -damage as a madman running amuck with a deadly weapon. Just as much ... -more ... when it's out of control. - -You don't want to face up to it squarely, you shrink from it, because -some instinct tells you it would be dangerous to let the horror of -it come sweeping into your mind too fast. So you take refuge in -absurdity, you imagine things that are a little on the ludicrous side. -A hunger-bloat, a maniacal glare in photo-electric eyes. - -But when you've done that, you have to stand and watch the horror take -place before your eyes and in the end you've gained nothing ... because -when anything as terrible as what I saw sears its way into your brain -the memory of it will remain with you until you die. - -The robot giant's massive metal hand swept downward, descending on the -head and shoulders of the man who'd crashed into it. It hurled him to -the deck, and flattened him out with a hammer blow that crushed his -skull, broke his ribs, and tore a deep gash in his back. A red stain -spread over his ripped shirt. I shut my eyes, sickened. There was a -screaming behind me. I swung dully about and went to her and held her -head against my chest, stroking her hair, whispering soothing words -into her ear. I could do that without endangering the safety of the sky -ship, because the robot giant had ceased to move. With the descent of -its hand all of the whirrings had ceased and it remained in a bent-over -position, utterly rigid, its mace-like metal palm still resting on the -unstirring crewman's back. - -I was quite sure that no jury on Earth would have held me criminally -responsible for his death. It had been brought about by an accident I -couldn't have foreseen. Every man has the right to defend himself when -he's under attack, and not just my own life had been in danger. There -was no doubt in my mind ... not the slightest.... His rage had been -homicidal and he would have killed me if I'd given him the chance. - -Justifiable homicide. There could be no other verdict, if the insignia -the Board had given me hadn't conferred legal immunity when an -accidental death stemmed from my right to stay alive and I had been -forced to return to Earth and clear myself in court. - -I felt no moral guilt, but still--I was badly shaken. I had been -instrumental in causing his death, however unintentionally, and it's -always better if a man can live out his life without experiencing the -deep sadness that goes with that kind of knowledge. - -The only difference is--moral guilt never leaves you and grows worse -with the years. But there are so many tragic sadnesses in life that -they have a way of merging into one big, onrushing stream and when you -measure that stream against a brighter one, the joy-stream, the scales -seem to stay just about even, with the balance maybe just a little -heavier on the joyful side. - -Right at the moment there was another big, onrushing stream running -parallel with the sadness. The sober-obligation stream. Or maybe -duty-stream would be a better name for it. We spend at least a third -of our lives immersed in it up to our necks and swimming against the -toughest kind of currents. Sometimes I think we could do without it -entirely. - -What was it Baudelaire said about boredom? "But well you know that -dainty monster, thou, hypocrite reader, fellow man, my brother." You -could practically say the same thing about duty. - -But the stream is there, and if you just stay on the bank watching -the other swimmers you won't really have the right to plunge into the -joy-stream with a clear conscience. - -The first thing I had to do was get her out of the Chart Room before -she collapsed. She was close to hysteria and I didn't even want her -to look at the body again. I was careful to stand between her and the -robot, and when I guided her gently toward the door I kept my hand on -the back of her head and kept her face pressed to my chest. - -It was more difficult than it would have looked on a cinema -screen--more awkward and less romantic, and that was the way I wanted -it to be, because nothing could have been further from my mind at that -moment than the romantic glow I'd felt when I had been sitting across a -table from her in a lakeside tavern on Earth, and hadn't fully realized -that Joan was still the only really important woman in my life. - -Oh, all right. You can't have a head that beautiful nestling in the -middle of your chest without feeling a certain ... well, a quickening -of your pulse, at least. It can happen even in the presence of death, -when you've just been shaken to the depths in a ghastly way. Perhaps -because of that.... - -Sex and death. Don't be morbid, Ralphie boy. Don't turn the clock -back and let the old Freudian catch-alls of a century ago confuse and -mislead you. Half of all that has been made clearer because we know now -what Man was like five million years ago when he was a very predatory -ape. - -Sure, sex and death are closely linked. Dawn man went hunting and slew -a cave bear and threw it down before his mate, all bloody, with pride -swelling in him and just the excitement of the hunt, the thrill and -danger of it, made him want to make love in just as exciting a way. - -But sex and life are even more closely linked, and in life there are -loyalties to consider and one woman becomes more important to you than -all the rest and you don't need that kind of stimulation to enable you -to make love to her in the most exciting possible way. - -The old stirring is still there, the death-sex linkage, and it can hit -you hard at times and you have to keep a tight grip on yourself to keep -from succumbing to it. But you can do it if you try. - -Of course I was being unfair to her. The sex-death linkage had no -more relation to the glow I'd felt back in the lakeside tavern than -it did now to her as an individual. I'd have felt the same stirring -if I'd been guiding Joan out of the Chart Room with her head on my -breast--more of a stirring because Joan was the one woman in the world -for me. - -What it really meant was that the woman with the hair piled up high on -her head filled me with a two-way sense of guilt. The life-sex linkage -was better than the death-sex linkage, and the one and only woman -feeling better than the promiscuous amorousness which any beautiful -woman can arouse in the male. And right at the moment she represented -both of the more primitive aspects of sex. - -But the dice had just fallen that way. It wasn't her fault and now she -was close to hysteria and needed reassurance and all the comfort I -could give her. - -As soon as we were out in the passageway I asked her to tell me who -she was. Her name. So much had happened between us that it seemed -unbelievable that I still didn't know that much about her. - -"I thought I told you right after we left the spaceport," she said. "I -thought you knew. It's Helen ... Helen Barclay." - -So ... the old wonder name, the magical name, the Topless Towers of -Illium name. How often it seemed to go with her kind of woman. How -could she have been Margaret or Janice or Barbara ... attractive as -those names were. Lilith perhaps ... yes. Or Eva ... because I've often -felt that Eve must have been a woman of glamor, red-headed and with -a temper a little on the fiery side, because how else could she have -come down to us as Earth's first legendary temptress? But otherwise ... -Helen, the glamor name that led the list. - -Why was I letting my mind go off at such an absurd tangent, when right -ahead of me the stern-obligation stream I've mentioned was widening -out, filling with rapids, becoming a river which could have swallowed -up the sky ship, or wrecked it ... if I failed to take up a giant's -stance right in the middle of it. Wade in and thrust the waters aside, -Ralphie boy. It's your duty. Try to think of yourself as a giant. - -What made it tough was ... I didn't feel at all like a giant. But what -had just happened in the Chart Room couldn't be ignored. A lot of -questions would have to be asked fast, and if the explanations sounded -like lies, if Helen Barclay refused to cooperate, some very drastic -action might have to be taken. I hoped she didn't have anything ugly -to conceal. Just the thought was hateful to me, because I believed -in her and trusted her. But the way I felt had nothing to do with an -obligation I had no right to sidestep for as short a distance as the -width of an electron-microscoped virus. - -I was glad that I wouldn't have to do the questioning. Not straight -off, anyway--not until I knew much more than I did, and all of the big, -vital questions had been answered with candor and I could go right on -feeling the way I did about her with a clear conscience. I hoped to God -it would be with candor. If someone is dying and you can do nothing -to save him and what he's done or hasn't done is of no importance to -anyone but himself ... you don't ply him with questions. But what she'd -done or hadn't done could send the sky ship down into the gulfs in -flaming ruin, because all of the passengers are encased in a fragile -kind of bubble and the slightest pinprick could puncture it. - -The pinprick, for instance, of an Earthside conspirator, traveling -along with the bubble out into space and awaiting just the right moment -to insert the tiny, darkly gleaming point of the pin under the skin of -the bubble. - -And she wasn't dying, but alive--and could, if she had nothing to -conceal, have no trouble in convincing the commander of the sky ship -that any such fear was groundless. - -I had to take her straight to the Commander. Otherwise I'd have to -take it up with someone of lesser authority and show him the insignia -and question her myself in private. I couldn't see any advantage to be -gained by that. It would leave the corpse in the Chart Room entirely -unexplained and the Commander would not take kindly to having anything -as disturbing as that left lying around in a loose-end way for him to -worry about. - -It would mean, of course, that I would have to show him the insignia. -That was the bad part, the one thing I wanted most to avoid. But I -could see no effective way of avoiding it now, because he was, after -all, in command of the sky ship and directly responsible for its -safety. He had every right to be the first to question her, unless I -chose to supplant that right with what the insignia represented. To do -so would not have been wise for a dozen reasons, the chief one being -that when a man is in a firm position to exercise reasonably high -authority it's always a mistake to go over his head unless you're sure -you can make a better job of it than he could, despite his specialized -knowledge. I didn't think for a moment I could come anywhere near -equaling Commander Littlefield's competence in guarding the safety of a -Mars' rocket ... so to curtail his authority in a high-handed way would -have been worse than inexcusable. - -But I would still have to show him the insignia ... or I would not be -permitted to sit in on the questioning. - -We were at the end of the passageway now and just by making a sharp -left turn I could have taken her into the cabin section and introduced -her to Joan. Perhaps, out of compassion, I should have done that ... -let her relax in a lounge chair and look out at the cool, untroubled -stars, and regain a little more of her composure. Some of it was coming -back, she wasn't trembling quite so violently now, and women seem -to know better than men how to ease shock-engendered agitation ... -especially when it's another woman they have to soothe and sympathize -with. I could trust Joan to handle it like an expert. "Of course, you -poor darling. I know just how you feel. Ralph will know what to do. -Don't think about it. Just stay right here with us until Ralph comes -back." - -It would have been the kind thing to do, all right and for an instant I -hesitated and almost committed an act of madness. - -When you've something to conceal, it's much easier to avoid a -thoughtless admission, a damaging slip of the tongue, when you've had -time to collect your thoughts and decide in advance exactly how much -of the truth it's wise to reveal. She was too agitated now to guard -against slips and our chances of getting at the truth would be much -better. And like the short-on-brains, over-chivalrous lug I could be on -rare occasions--I hoped they were rare--I'd almost torn it. - - - - -8 - - -Unlike Jonathan Trilling, Commander Littlefield was the kind of man -who was what he was in an uncomplicated way. You didn't have to try to -analyze why he impressed you as he did, because it was all there on -display, right out in the open. He was big and robust looking, with -a granite-firm jaw and the kind of features that take a long time to -develop the lines of character that are etched into them, because a -man who has his emotions well under control in his youth will pass -into middle-age before you can tell from his expression just how much -maturity and strength resides in him. - -There are bland-faced lads who seem to have no lines of character at -all in their countenances up to about the age of twenty-eight. But when -you hear them talk you change your mind very quickly about them, and -when they are forty-five the lines are all there, deeply-etched, and -the mystery is explained. Commander Littlefield was that kind of man. - -We had several very serious things to discuss, because five hours had -passed since I'd sat facing him in the same chair and Helen Barclay -had sat in another chair at right angles to a third chair, which he -had drawn out from his desk and occupied for a full hour without a -coffee break, his eyes searching her face as she talked. His stare -was a kind of interrogation in itself, and it must have been hard for -her to endure. I think it would have angered me a little, if I hadn't -suspected what was behind it. - -Her story stood up very well and had the ring of truth and her eyes -never wavered. But he was hoping they would, then he could detect in -her eyes a flicker of hesitation, of evasiveness, which would give her -away. - -But he hadn't. Her story had stood up almost _too_ well ... because the -truth always has a few flaws and inconsistencies in it. Memory is never -a perfect enough mirror to permit anyone to avoid contradictions when -they are doing their best to tell nothing but the truth, even under -oath. - -But she hadn't seemed to be lying, and in the end I think she convinced -him completely, because toward the end he stopped looking at her as if -every word she said was impressing him unfavorably. - -And now she was in the sick bay, recovering from shock, and I was back -again for another talk with the Commander. - -He began by saying: "I don't know just how I should address you, Mr. -Graham--sir. That silver hawk gives you a Colonization Board clearance -that's a little on the special side ... you'll have to admit. The -first man who wore it got a little angry when anyone addressed him as -'General' because that's a strictly military title, and military titles -haven't been in common use for forty years. There's not supposed to be -any army anymore--on Earth or on Mars. But I've always sort of liked -'General' and that insignia is practically the equivalent of five -stars." - -"I'm afraid I don't like 'General' at all," I said. "The title is ... -Ralph." - -"Well ... suit yourself. _Ralph._ I'm a simple soldier at heart, I -suppose--always will be, even though I hold the rank of Commander. -You're young enough to be my son, so that informal crap doesn't go too -much against the grain, if you're that serious about it." - -"I'm serious about it," I said. "And you're not old enough to be my -father. An older brother, perhaps. You can't stretch it any further -than that." - -"What do you mean I can't? I'm an old man of forty-eight. Hair -thinning, going a little to fat. My God, a Wendel Atomics or Endicott -Fuel top executive couldn't look any older, and they've got a head -start on the rest of us. They start burning out at thirty-five." - -"There's not an ounce of fat on you, as far as I can see," I assured -him. - -"That's going to handicap you on Mars, Ralph. Eyesight not what it -should be in a five-star general. Look again, look closer. I've got -a pot belly you'd notice, all right, if I didn't exercise to keep it -down." - -I'd skipped over his reference to Wendel Atomics and Endicott, maybe -subconsciously, but it must have registered belatedly in a very -pronounced way, because something in my expression turned him dead -serious in an instant. No man ever speaks with complete levity about -his age, but what there was of ironic amusement in his gray eyes -vanished and his lips tightened. - -"Well ... suppose we go over what we've got," he said. "I'll be -grateful for any ideas, any suggestions you may care to make. I've -found out something that's going to give you a jolt. It may even rock -you back on your heels, depending on how easily you can be rocked. But -it will keep ... until we've discussed what she told us. What do you -think of her story?" - -"I believe it," I said. I didn't think it was necessary to elaborate. - -"Well ... I'm afraid I do too, more's the pity. If I thought she was -lying I'd have more of a lever to pry what we don't know loose." - -There was a thin sheet of paper covered with very fine handwriting on -his desk. He picked it up and ran his eyes over it. - -"I sort of summarized what she told us," he said. "But there's no sense -in your reading this. I can summarize it even more briefly by skipping -two-thirds of what I have here." - -"You might as well," I told him. "She talked and we listened -for at least twenty minutes. Then we both questioned her. In a -question-and-answer session like that the vital points are apt to get a -little blurred." - -"Well, we know she did something no one has ever done before--stowed -away on a Mars' ship. I'd have said it couldn't be done ... and so -would you, I'm sure, because you're as familiar with the inspection -routine as I am. You passed through it. No one could possibly get -inside a Mars' rocket without a Board clearance and a personal, -ten-point identification check every step of the way. In other words, -you can't just ascend the launching pad, be whisked up to the passenger -section and walk right in. There's only one way you can get inside -without passing the four inspection points, with machines X-raying you -from head to toe." - -"I know," I said. "It was a damn clever stunt." - -"It was more than a stunt. It was an achievement on the creative genius -level. It took planning and foresight. And ... luck. A great deal of -luck. But that doesn't detract from the brilliance of it. She found out -that we were installing a new cybernetic robot, to replace one that had -developed electronic fatigue and had to be removed for repairs and a -long rest. And she knew that we wouldn't X-ray a robot or subject it to -any of the usual tests. It would just be wheeled right in." - -Littlefield paused an instant, then went on. "She knew there was plenty -of room inside a cybernetic robot that large, between the tiers of -memory banks and all the other gadgetry, for the carrying out of what -she had in mind--a stowaway gamble that was almost sure to succeed. She -provided for her comfort during the long trip in half-dozen ingenious -ways, as we know, and made sure that the food concentrates she took -along were high in essential proteins. - -"She knew, of course, that she couldn't stay inside the robot without -coming out at all. She'd have to emerge occasionally, if only to ease -the psychological strain. But she used good judgment and only emerged -when she was absolutely sure that it would be safe." - -"But once she didn't," I said. - -"Once she didn't. Once she felt she couldn't stand the tensions that -were building up in her any longer and she took a chance and came out -when she wasn't sure the Chart Room would be deserted. You told me -you thought it was never left unguarded. Well ... that isn't strictly -true. There's a built-in security alert system in all of the robots and -we can risk leaving it unguarded for a few minutes, when every member -of the crew is needed elsewhere, to take care of some particularly -troublesome space headache. That's what we call the small and seldom -very serious emergencies which are always arising in a sky ship this -large." - -"But if she heard someone moving about ... she must have been crazy to -emerge," I said. - -"That's just it. She wasn't sure she heard anyone. In fact, she was -almost sure it would be safe to emerge. She'd learned to trust her -instincts, and the silence was almost unbroken. Just once she thought -she heard a slight sound, but she put it down to the tension that was -building up in her. She felt she _had_ to emerge." - -"And he caught her," I said, nodding. "And was more enraged than he -had any right to be. His fury was maniacal. If you'd seen the look on -his face and the way he was twisting her wrist you'd have been sure as -I was that he was quite capable of killing her. And that's the most -puzzling part of it. We can't explain it--and neither can she. That's -the one part of her story I was afraid you wouldn't believe." - -"I didn't for a moment," Littlefield said. "I was sure she was -lying ... until the look of bewilderment in her eyes convinced me she -was telling the truth." - -"You didn't want to talk about him until you'd examined the body," I -said. "I guess I got a little angry when you were so damned insistent -on that point. I was just about to--well, use that silver bird to make -you change your mind. That used to be called 'pulling rank' on someone -you respect and who has every right to tell you off. Since you like to -play soldier--and I mean that in a complimentary way--you're free to go -ahead and tell me off now, if you want to." - -"Hell no. You had every right to press me. I just felt a little guilty -and ashamed, I guess--to think that I'd let a crewman come aboard this -sky ship who had managed in some way to deceive the Board. I was pretty -sure, even then, that his clearance papers must have been forged, but -I wanted a chance to examine the body before I committed myself, one -way or the other." - -"I guess I'd have done the same," I said - -"Yes.... Well, I'd have gone right down to the Chart Room and examined -the body before I listened to what she had to say ... if you hadn't -given me some very sound advice. If we questioned her while she was in -a keyed up state we'd have a better chance of getting at the truth." - -I'd almost tripped over that one myself, so I didn't rate the -compliment he was paying me. But it was too minor to make me feel -conscience-bound to disillusion him. - -"You saw me click the officer-section communicator on and talk into -it for a minute or two," he went on. "I ordered a double guard posted -in the Chart Room, but I told them not to touch the body until I had -a chance to get down there myself. It's just as well I did, because -something was found on the body I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to -see." - -He was smiling a little and I wondered why, until he exploded the -bombshell--the thing he'd said would rock me back on my heels. - -"He'd deceived the Board with a vengeance, apparently. There was a -sealed envelope on him and when I tore it open there was a card in -it. It wasn't a Board clearance card. It was a Wendel Atomics private -police card and it identified him as the kind of secret agent you'd -trade in for a snake if you _had_ to have something poisonous on -board and were given a free choice in the matter. The Wendel police -are little better than hired killers--although perhaps a few of them -are generous-minded enough to feel that when you've beaten a man -insensible it's going a little too far to put a bullet in him as well. -And the Wendel secret agents are the worst sadists of the lot. They're -hand-picked for shrewdness and when you get intelligence along with -brutality there's no refinement of cruelty that won't be resorted to -when the going gets rough." - -"Good God!" I said. "So that's why--No ... no. It doesn't quite explain -why just the sight of Helen Barclay emerging from the robot enraged him -the way it did. Just the fact that there was a woman stowaway on Board -shouldn't have angered him at all. It wasn't his headache, because -he was merely masquerading as a crewman. Even a man who felt some -responsibility in the matter would have only been a little angered." - -Littlefield nodded. "Don't think that hasn't occurred to me. If he'd -never set eyes on her before, or had no idea who she was ... it's hard -to see why he should have become enraged, as you say. That's why I've -gone to such lengths to make sure she was telling us the full truth -when she explained why getting to Mars was so important to her." - -He didn't have to read from the paper he was still holding to help -me recall in detail everything she'd said during that part of the -question-and-answer session. It had made too deep an impression on -me. It had also struck a vital nerve, because it was tied in with my -assignment. Not directly, because I could have completed my big job -without so much as talking to her again. But she was going to Mars -because of something that Wendel Atomics had done. - -Wendel Atomics was the exposed nerve, because anything that had to do -with the Martian power combines was of vital interest to me, if only on -the general information level. - -In her case it was a personal matter, just between Wendel and herself. -A very small matter to Wendel but overwhelmingly important to her. - -Her brother, an electronic engineer, was dying by inches in a Wendel -laboratory. Slow, radio-active poisoning meant very little to Wendel -Atomics apparently, when just one small human cog was afflicted with it -and they still needed his services. - -So she had used her own knowledge of electronics and a very great -resourcefulness and a high I.Q. to stow away in a cybernetic robot and -was on her way to Mars to see what a woman of courage, entirely alone, -could do to save the life of the only brother she had. - -She had tried to get a clearance from the Board and failed and that -explained how she happened to be in the New Chicago spaceport bar when -my own life had been in even more immediate danger ... because slow, -radio-active poisoning takes a long time to kill and if you can stop it -in time there's always a chance that the victim will recover. - -"I've been checking up ever since you left," Littlefield was saying. -"I managed to get through to Earth on the needle frequencies and -Trilling knows now that you showed me the silver bird. The code -I used to tell him that was too complicated to be broken by the -big-brained inhabitants of Alpha Centauri's third planet, if--as seems -unlikely--such a planet exists." - -"And you didn't even tell me," I said. "I suppose I should be burned up -about it." - -"No, you shouldn't be. I just saved you a lot of unnecessary -explaining. You can talk to Trilling all you want to from here on in, -but I've cushioned the shock for you, taken a little of the edge off -the way he seemed to feel for a minute or two." - -"Well ... all right," I said. "Just what did you tell him." - -"I asked him to do what he could to confirm her story. So far -everything she told us seems to check out. Of course, they haven't been -able to turn up too much, and she could still be lying. But we may get -more on it later on. Don't count on it, though. I may not even be able -to contact Trilling again. The needle frequencies are as unreliable as -hell, as you know." - -"But you just said I could talk to Trilling myself--" - -"If we're lucky. You can't express yourself with precision when you're -as troubled as I am right now." - -I was troubled too ... perhaps more than he was. But just trying to -make that concern dwindle a little by turning all the knobs on and off -kept me from thinking about it. - -"Well ... he could have recognized her," I said. "There could have -been a link there, since he was a Wendel secret agent and her brother -works for Wendel. Maybe they sent him her brother's photograph over the -needle frequencies and said: 'Look around for a girl who resembles this -man and keep an eye on her. She's one little girl we're worried about." - -"Oh, sure, that could be it." - -"It wouldn't sound quite so ludicrous, Commander, if it was her -photograph they managed somehow to send him. Maybe they secured one -from her brother without his knowing about it. But still--it wouldn't -make much sense. Why should they fear her enough to put a secret agent -on her trail? One helpless woman forty million miles from Mars. He -couldn't have known she'd smuggle herself on board the rocket in a -cybernetic robot ... because his rage when he discovered her precluded -that. And why would he make the trip if he was out to get her and, for -all he knew to the contrary, she was still somewhere in New Chicago?" - -"If he was trailing her he could have suspected she might be on board -and may have been searching everywhere for her," Littlefield pointed -out. "That would even explain his rage when he finally got his hands -on her, if we remember the kind of sadistic human animal he was. -Frustration alone could produce a rage as violent as that in a Wendel -agent--days and nights of fruitless searching. But ... I agree with you -that it doesn't make sense otherwise. The stumbling block, as you say, -is the difficulty in imagining how Wendel Atomics could possibly regard -her as that serious a menace. Or fear her at all, for that matter." - -That was as far as we got. The officer-section communication -instrument on Littlefield's desk started buzzing and he swung about to -pick it up, with an almost joyful eagerness. - -I was sure that at any other time he'd have accepted that call with -no visible display of emotion, just as a routine necessity. But when -you've reached a stone wall in a discussion of vital importance and the -odds against your making any further progress seem insurmountable, for -the moment at least, practically any interruption will be as welcome as -sunlight after a drenching rain or a peasoup fog. It's certainly better -than beating your head against stone. - -He listened for perhaps ten seconds with the instrument pressed to his -ear, with no pronounced change of expression. Then his face blanched -and a look of horror came into his eyes. - -He slammed the instrument down and headed for the door on the run, -completely unmindful of his dignity. Then he seemed to remember that he -owed me an explanation--a man of principle will usually take a second -or two out for that even when his home is in flames--and turned a yard -from the door to shout at me. - -"Someone got the nose-cone panel open, climbed outside and is crawling -along the airframe toward the jet section! He's wearing magnetic boots -and if I'm not mistaken he's equipped with everything he needs to blow -the rocket apart." - -When he saw the look on my face he added reassuringly. "We've still got -a good chance of stopping him in time, because he just climbed out. -But we'll have to bring most of the airframe into sharp focus on the -viewplate, and pinpoint his every movement." - -It came as such a shock to me that I felt I had a good chance of -suffocating, just from the way my throat tightened up and my heart -started pumping blood at twice its usual rate. - -I'm not quite sure how I managed to follow him at a distance of not -more than fifteen feet, down three intership ladders and along four -branching passageways, without once stopping to get my breath back. I -doubt if I could have done that anyway. - -Right foot, then left, right left, right left, Ralphie boy, and don't -give up the ship. Never give up the ship when there's a chance to save -it. There's nothing painful about being vaporized in space. Remember -that, keep it firmly in mind. Nothing painful, nothing sad ... just a -quick end to all you've had. - -I don't know why I thought the Chart Room looked deserted, like -a big, unoccupied mausoleum with tiers for coffins--dozens of -coffins--running up both of its sides. No coffins yet, just the empty -shelves, for burial time had not yet arrived. But how could the Chart -Room have looked deserted, when it wasn't at all? - -There were a dozen officers standing in front of the big lighted screen -and when we crossed the room to join them without announcing our -arrival--well, that made fourteen. - -I can't even explain how I got the idea there was a chill in the air -that seemed to wrap itself around me in moist, clinging folds, because -no section of the sky ship was more comfortably heated. - -I didn't spend more than a minute or two trying to puzzle it out, -because the "furious sick shapes of nightmare," to quote from a poem -I wasn't sure I'd ever read, only disturb you when you give them more -encouragement than they're entitled to. - -The only really important thing was that we could see him in bent -light on the big screen--a tiny, spacesuited figure climbing along the -airframe, laden down with something cumbersome that he kept pushing -before him in a completely weightless way as he inched further and -further toward the rocket's stern. - -All at once, I knew what was going to happen to him. I was as sure of -it as I am that I have two big toes that point a little inward and that -Joan sometimes tenderly jokes about. - -Between Earth and Mars space isn't empty. It hasn't been empty for more -than half a century, which is a pretty good record on the survival -scale for man-made, mechanical implants. The early Sputniks didn't last -one-tenth as long. - -I knew without waiting for Commander Littlefield to finish what he -was saying to one of the officers and issue a command that the needle -frequencies scattered throughout the void on all sides of us were the -only composite weapon we could count on to save the sky ship and all -the people between its decks who didn't want to be vaporized. And that -took in practically everyone on board. - -Sure, I know. Everyone had thought that the millions of filament-thin -wires which had been put into orbit around Earth in the seventh and -eighth decades of the twentieth century and later into orbit around -Mars and far out into interstellar space would only be used for -purposes of communication. Project Needles, or, if you want to be -strictly technical, Project West Ford. - -God grant that they may some day be used in no other way. But when a -man climbs out on the airframe of a sky ship, for the sole purpose of -blowing it up---- - -There is only one way I can do justice to the speed with which it -happened and the awful, mind-numbing finality of it. It is not -something which should be recorded in a paragraph, a page, but in two -sentences at most. - -Commander Littlefield issued a command, and a light on the instrument -panel blinked, and a million magnetized filaments converged, united and -so united, converged again on the airframe of the sky ship. There was a -blinding flash of light and the tiny human figure was gone. - -The first words Commander Littlefield spoke, after that, were to me. - -"Whoever he was, he must have wanted her dead pretty badly ... to have -been willing to blow up the sky ship and kill himself in the process." - -There was a strange look on his face and his gray eyes met mine with a -question in them. - -Then he spoke the question aloud. "Or was it you, Ralph, whom he had in -mind?" - - - - -9 - - -The clang of the opening port was still ringing in my ears when I -walked out of the sky ship with Joan on my arm and looked down over the -big metal corkscrew directly beneath me. I knew straight off I'd made -a mistake. I should have looked up at the sky instead. I should have -squared my shoulders, drawn the crisp, tangy air deep into my hangs and -established rapport with Mars more gradually. - -A delay of only a moment or two would have spared me the too sudden -shock of finding myself three hundred feet in the air, dazzled by an -unexpected brightness, and supported by nothing I'd have cared to trust -my weight to on Earth. - -We were standing on a thin strip of metal, a mere spiderweb tracery, -and if I'd lost my balance and gone crashing through the guard rail -there would have been no mountaineer's rope to save me. What was worse, -I'd have taken Joan with me. - -The danger was illusionary, of course ... solely in my mind. The -underwriters go to a great deal of expense and trouble to make sure -there will be no tragic accidents when the big risks have been left -behind in space. - -The guard rail was chest-high and sturdy enough, and no one had ever -gone crashing through it. But you can't reason with a feeling, and for -an instant the yawning emptiness beneath me made me feel that I was -already past the rail, twisting and turning, flailing the air in a -three-hundred-foot plunge. - -I was sure that Joan was experiencing the same kind of irrational -giddiness, for she drew in her breath sharply and a shiver went -through her. A fear of great heights is one phobia that is shared by -practically everyone. - -The big metal corkscrew beneath us was the landing frame into which -the rocket had descended and we were standing high up on that enormous -spiral, which curved down and outward like an immense silvery cocoon. - -A figure of speech, sure. But not as wide of the mark as most of the -images that flash across your mind when you're keyed up abnormally and -a lot of new colors, and sights and sounds rush in on you and upset all -of your calculations as to how sober-minded you're going to stay. Your -grasp on reality slips a little, as if you were holding it right before -your eyes like a book, and wearing glasses so strong that the print -blurs. You're in a fantasy world of your own creating, seeing things -that can't be blamed on whoever wrote the book. A fussy, unimaginative -little guy, perhaps, who has spent most of his life within sight of his -own doorstep and has never felt the great winds of space blowing cold -upon him. - -There's a big, night-flying Sphinx moth with death-heads on each of its -wings, and there were times when I'd thought of the Mars ship as not so -different from that kind of moth. And now it was as if the sky ship had -turned back into a caterpillar again, and spun a cocoon for itself, and -was quietly reposing in the pupa stage, its rust-red end vanes folded -back, its long length mottled and space-eroded where the atomic jets -had seared it. - -There was nothing wrong in giving my imagination carte-blanche to go -into free fall like that, because when you're standing on a dizzy -height staring down at a new world forty million miles from Earth -you've got to let the strangeness and bursting wonder of it ... along -with the dire forebodings ... take firm hold of you. Otherwise you -won't feel yourself to be a part of it, won't be equipped with what it -takes to probe beneath the surface of things in a realistic way and -feel like a native son even in the presence of the unknown. - -Three hundred feet below me more activity was taking place than I had -ever seen crowded into an area of equal size on Earth. Just as a guess, -I'd have said that the spaceport's disembarkation section was about six -hundred feet square. But right at that moment I had no real stomach for -guessing games--only a hollowness where my stomach was supposed to be. - -Far below the disembarkation section was in high gear, and the clatter -of it, the rushings to and fro, the grinding and screeching of giant -cranes, and atomic tractors, and rising platforms crowded to capacity -with specialized robots, most of them scissor-thin and all of them -operated by remote control ... would have half-deafened me if I'd been -standing a hundred feet lower down. - -Even from the top of the spiral the clamor had to be heard to be -believed. But what astounded me most was the newness, brightness, -sharply delineated aspect of everything within range of my vision. -I could see clear to the edge of the spaceport, and the four other -securely-berthed rockets stood out with a startling clarity, their nose -cones gleaming in the bright Martian sunlight. The big lifting cranes -stood out just as sharply, and although the zigzagging tractors looked -like painted toys, red and blue and yellow, I would have sworn under -oath that not one of them cast a shadow. - -The twenty-five or thirty human midgets who were moving in all -directions across the field, between machines that seemed too -formidable to be trusted had the brittle, sheen-bright look of figures -cut out of isinglass. - -Another illusion, of course. There had to be shadows, because there -was nothing on Mars that could have brought about that big a change in -the laws of optics. But by the same token the length and density of -shadows can be altered a bit by atmospheric conditions, making light -interception turn playful. So I didn't strain my eyes searching for -deep purple halos around the human midges. - -My only immediate concern was to reassure Joan in a calm and forceful -way and escort her safely down to ground level, without letting her -suspect that I shared her misgivings as to the stability of the spiral. - -It was ridiculous on the face of it. But, as I've said, you can't argue -with a feeling that whispers that your remote, dawn age ancestors must -have felt the same way when they climbed out on a limb overhanging a -precipice, and felt the whole tree begin to sway and shake beneath them. - -"Hold tight to the rail and don't look down," I cautioned. "There's -no real danger ... because a first-rate welding job was done on this -structure. Barring an earthquake, it should be just as safe a century -from now." - -I shot a quick, concerned glance at her along with the warning. I guess -I must have thought she'd be more shaken than she was, for she smiled -when she saw the look of surprise in my eyes. It took me half a minute -to realize that my guess as to how she'd be taking it hadn't gone so -wide of the mark. Her pallor gave her away. - -"A century would be much too long to wait," she breathed. "Another five -minutes would be too long. If it's going to collapse, I'd rather find -out right now." - -I nodded and we started down. Several other passengers had emerged from -the port and were looking up at the sky or downward as I'd done. Three -men and a woman had emerged ahead of us and were almost at the base of -the spiral. So far nothing had happened to them. - -I've often toyed with the thought that there may be windows in the mind -we can see out of sometimes--at oblique angles and around corners and -without turning our heads. I could visualize the passengers who were -descending behind us more clearly than you usually can in a mind's eye -picture. Each face was in sharp focus and there was no blurring of -their images as they moved. It was as if I was staring straight up at -them through a crystal-clear pane of glass. - -In that astonishingly bright inner vision--why look up and back when I -did not doubt its accuracy?--Commander Littlefield was wasting no time -in setting a good example. He'd descended the spiral so many times that -great height meant nothing to him. He'd be ascending and descending at -least ten more times just in the next few hours. But this was his big -moment. I could already picture him striding across the disembarkation -section to the Administration Unit with his shoulders held straight, -and announcing officially, with a ring of pride in his voice, that the -trip had been completed in record time, and the rocket had been berthed -successfully. He was descending now with a confident smile on his lips, -his Mars' legs buoyantly supporting him. - -Behind him came the small group who had been closest to us in space. -They were doing their best to stay calm, but there was a slight flicker -of apprehension in their eyes. Our section had been the first to -disembark, because Littlefield had agreed with me that it might have -seemed a little strange if I'd been accorded that privilege and it had -been denied to the others. Why give anyone who might have outwitted -every screening precaution the idea that I might be a man apart, with -so big a job awaiting me on Mars that getting started on it without -delay was damned important to me. It was natural enough for one or two -sections to be cleared fast and emerge with the Commander. But others -would have to await their turn in line and quarantine checkups could -drag along for hours. - -"It's funny how long it takes to get even a little lower when you're -this high up," Joan said, her fingers tightening on my arm. "We're not -anything like as high as when we started. But nothing down below looks -any larger." - -"We're not a fourth of the way down, and the human eye is a very poor -judge of distances," I said, reassuringly. "It would be better if you -let go of my arm and just kept your right hand on the rail. We sway -more this way." - -"When you look down from the observation roof of the North-Western -University Building you can see all of New Chicago, and practically -half of Lake Michigan," she complained breathlessly. "But it never made -me feel as giddy as this." - -"You had a firmer support under you," I said. "But not a safer one. -There's no danger at all. You can be absolutely sure of that. What -could happen to us?" - -It was one of those silly questions you sometimes ask when you want to -reassure someone you're a little concerned about. But a silly question -can sometimes be answered in a totally unexpected way--suddenly, -terribly and with explosive violence. It can be answered by a voice -of thunder out of the sky, or a wild, savage cry in the night, or in -a quieter way, but with just as terrifying an outcome. There are a -hundred cataclysms of nature which can give the lie to what you thought -was only a silliness. - -No matter where you are or how secure you feel, never ask what -could happen in a world where nothing is sure, where no one is ever -completely safe. Death is death. From end to end of his big estate may -be a lifetime's journey for some men. But he can cover the distance -with the speed of light, because Death is one space traveler--the only -one--who knows exactly how to outdistance light. - -Even if you're alone in a steel-walled vault it's a dangerous question -to ask. It's ten times as dangerous when you're descending a swaying -metal corkscrew forty million miles from Earth and there may be someone -eighty feet above you who has failed twice as Death's emissary and -would be covered with shame if it happened again. - -I felt hardly anything for an instant when the dart sliced deep into -the soft flesh between my shoulder blades. I didn't even know it was -a dart and kept right on walking. It was as if a bee had stung me--a -tired bee who couldn't sting very hard. There was just a little stab of -pain, a burning sensation that lasted less than a second. - -I felt it, all right. But it didn't startle me enough to stop me dead -in my tracks. A thing like that seldom does, if you're moving steadily -forward. It takes a second or two after you've felt the pain for the -implications to dawn on you. - -When they did the pain was back, and this time it was excruciating. -My whole shoulder was laced with fire, as if a red-hot iron had been -laid against it. If right at that moment I'd smelled an odor of burning -flesh I'd have been sure there could be no other explanation, despite -its transparent absurdity. - -Even then I kept right on walking. I staggered a little but I bit -down hard on my underlip to avoid crying out. I didn't want to alarm -Joan until I was sure. It could still have been just a very severe -muscular spasm--the kind of agonizing cramp that can hit you in the leg -sometimes in the middle of the night, so that you awake out of a deep -sleep bathed in cold sweat, and with your teeth chattering. - -That was what seemed to be happening now. My teeth started chattering -and I could feel sweat oozing out all over me. There was only one -difference. The pain was in my shoulder, not my leg, and it wasn't -easing up the way spasm pain does after a minute or two. It couldn't -have gotten worse, because it had been excruciating from the beginning. -But other things started getting worse fast. The burning sensation -spread to my lungs and my throat muscles started constricting, so that -every breath I drew was an agony. - -I couldn't pretend any longer, and I didn't try to. I went down on -my knees, clutching at my chest and swaying back against the rail. I -suppose I must have groaned or made some sort of sound, because Joan -swung about and was kneeling beside me in an instant, her face ashen. - -I must have looked terrible, or all of the color would not have drained -out of her face so fast, or her eyes gone quite so wide with alarm. - -I made a half-hearted try at straightening up, but only succeeded in -bringing my collapse closer to zero-count by sagging more heavily back -against the rail. - -"Darling, what is it? _Tell me!_" Her voice was demanding, wildly -insistent. "Please ... I've got to know. If it's your heart--" - -I shook my head. I went through a kind of little death just trying to -get a few words out. "Something struck me ... in the back. See ... what -it is. Feel around with your hand." - -"All right, darling. Just don't move. No--you'll have to lift yourself -up a little more. Try, darling. Your back's right against the rail." - -I did more than try. I helped her by gritting my teeth and flopping -over on my stomach. But the pain that lanced through my chest made me -almost black out for an instant. - -There was a clamor above us now, and I thought I heard Littlefield's -voice raised in a shout, followed by a scream of terror. Possibly -someone had seen me slump and jumped to the conclusion that the spiral -was collapsing. - -There was no chance of that, so I couldn't have cared less how close to -panic the people up above were. Right at the moment it didn't concern -me. I was only concerned with what Joan might find when her fingers -started probing. If a bullet had ploughed into me and her fingers came -away wetly red I'd know for sure whether it was as bad as I feared. It -helps to know, when there's a tormenting uncertainty in your mind along -with the physical pain. - -I could feel her hand fumbling with my shirt, getting it loosened. Then -they were moving up, down and across my back. Cautiously, gently, with -the nurselike competence which women usually manage to summon to their -aid in an emergency, no matter how shaken they are. - -After a moment her fingers stopped moving and she drew in her breath -sharply. - -Being in agony and on the verge of blacking out carries with it a -penalty. You can't always hear what someone close to you may be saying, -even when it's of life-and-death importance. - -I caught a few words, however, just enough to know it was a dart before -I lost consciousness. And her look told me what kind of dart it was. - -Or maybe it wasn't her look, just what I knew about darts in general. -The kind of dart that's in common use today as a weapon is quite unlike -the primitive blowgun darts of South American Indians a century ago. -Science, like everything else, progresses, especially in the field of -weapons. The modern dart is just as simple, in a way, but you take it -out of a wafer-thin metal case as you would a hypodermic needle and -you fit the three parts very carefully together and you use a liquid -propellant to blow it out of a very slender tube of gleaming metal. And -there's space in it for poison. - -It's handier, tidier than the small robot killers with their intricate -internal gadgetry, even though it requires precision aiming and you're -much more likely to be observed while you're taking aim, and be -compelled to pay the customary penalty for murder. - -I'd managed to roll back on my side, and lying then in agony, trying to -catch what Joan was saying, sort of telescoped all that for me, so that -it registered in my mind in a more rapid way than it does when you're -trying to explain it academically. Everything I knew about darts came -sweeping into my mind, and I remembered something else that helped to -explain the agony. - -The modern dart changes shape the instant it enters a man's body, -opening up like a pair of six-bladed scissors, cutting, slashing, -severing veins and muscles and nerve ganglions. And if it strikes an -artery-- - -It doesn't even have to be a poisoned dart to kill a man. The feathered -part remains in the wound, only slightly embedded. But if you have any -sense you resist an impulse to pull it out, because when you do that -it's very difficult to stop the bleeding. It's a job for a skilled -surgeon and Joan's look told me that there was no time to be lost. The -wisest thing I could do was to put my complete trust in Commander -Littlefield. The quicker he got one of the passengers or a crewman to -help him carry me down to ground level and bundle me into an ambulance -the better my chances would be. - -Joan seemed to be one jump ahead of me, for she leapt up quickly -and started back up the spiral. She didn't even press my hand in -reassurance, but that was all right with me. I knew why she hadn't. -Every second counted, and she loved me too much to be anything but -firmly practical about it. - -I remember thinking, just before I blacked out, _how adequate are the -hospital facilities here? And what about the surgeons? Oh God, what if -they are fifth-raters, what if the hospital is understaffed? What if -they bungle it, but good?_ - -When you black out and stay blacked out for a long period, questions -like that lose most of their tormenting aspects. You may still feel -emotionally disturbed by them, when the darkness lifts a little and -you remember having asked yourself questions someone somewhere should -have answered--if you'd only stayed around long enough to make a lot -of friends and influence people and make them eager to oblige you in -every possible way. But it isn't too disturbing, because you can't even -remember what the questions were. - -The trouble was ... I didn't stay blacked out. Not completely. I woke -up at intervals and heard snatches of conversation and I even saw--the -Mars Colony. - -I saw quite a bit of the Colony before they eased me down in a hospital -bed, and covered me with warm blankets and I blacked out again. - -I saw the streets I'd traveled forty million miles to visit, and the -people I'd come to make friends with, and the kids in their space -helmets, looking precisely as they did on Earth. (What further frontier -did they hope to explore ... Alpha Centauri or just one of the giant -outer planets?) I saw the prefabricated metal buildings, four, eight -and twenty stories high, with their slanting roofs, rust-red and -verdigris-green blue in the early morning sunlight and the stores -that were all glass and the strange looking supermarkets with their -almost cathedral-like domes. And just for good measure, eight or ten -bar-flanked streets with big parking lots where the bars gave way -to barracks that straggled out into the desert and had a primitive, -twentieth century, shanty-town look. - -There were people everywhere, but when you're propped up on a cot in -a speeding ambulance you can't tell whether the people who go flying -past look just the way people do on Earth, or have a more robust, -happier look. Or a more restless and discontented look. It's even -hard to tell whether young people or middle-aged people predominate, -or just how many very old people there are. Or how many infants in -arms, except that there did seem to be an exceptionally large number -of children, either being wheeled or carried or toddling along in the -wake of their parents, or playing games with the fierce competitiveness -of twelve-year-olds in fenced-in sand lots which no one had taken the -trouble to pave. - -There were theaters too--places of amusement, anyway--which you could -tell featured lively entertainment just from the gaudy blue and yellow -posters on their facades. - -That there were machines clattering past goes without saying. A -tremendous amount of new construction was under way in every part of -the Colony and if you just say "Mars" in a word association test one -man or woman in three will come right back with "Machinery." - -There were pipes, too--huge and branching, big, shining metal tubes -that arched above buildings and ran parallel with almost every street -in the Colony. A tremendous brood of writhing snakes was what they -reminded me of--the artificial kind that kids delight in scaring people -with at birthday parties, all mottled over with the bronze sheen of -copperheads, but looking more like boa constrictors in their tremendous -girth. - -Another kind of snake image flashed into my mind as I stared out -through the windows of the ambulance at that interlocking power-fuel -network. It came swimming right out of the history books I'd poured -over in fascination when I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Sure, they -were Diamond Back rattlesnakes and the Mars Colony was right out of the -Old West of covered-wagon and gold-prospecting days. - -Of course it wasn't, because the twenty-first century technology had -made it completely modern in some respects. But it was like the Old -West in a good many other ways. It had the same rugged, mirage-bright -pioneer look, as if the desert sands were blowing right into the heart -of the colony, swirling about, filling the windy places and the sand -lots where the kids were playing with a haze that could just as easily -have been gold dust that some careless, giant-size prospector had -spilled by accident when he'd brought it in from the hills for weighing. - -Actually, there's nothing on Earth or Mars that can completely shatter -that cyclic aspect of history. There's nothing so new that you can look -at it and say, "There's nothing of the past here. The break is complete -and the past is gone forever and can never return again." - -It's just not true. The past does return, shining brightly beneath the -bold new pattern, the daring new way of life that Man likes to think he -has chiseled from a block of marble that human hands have never touched -or human eyes rested upon before. - -There's no such block of marble in all the universe of stars. Not -really, because what Man can visualize he has already seen and it -has become a part of his heritage and the past of that heritage goes -flowing into it and he starts off with a veined monolith that is -brimming over with human memory patterns, with not a few buried deep in -the stone. - -But I've forgotten to mention the most important aspect of everything -I saw through the windows of that speeding ambulance. It was ... the -blurred aspect, the way everything kept changing shape and disappearing -and pinwheeling at times. It wasn't surprising, because the agony was -still with me and I saw everything in fitful starts, in brief flashes, -between bouts of blacking out and coming to and blacking out again. But -what I did see I saw clearly, with the heightened awareness that often -accompanies almost unbearable pain. When white-hot needles of pain are -jabbing at your nerves a strange, almost blinding kind of illumination -seems to sweep into the brain. But instead of blinding you it makes -everything stand out with a startling clarity and you can think clearly -too, and even speculate about what you've seen. - -It's as if you were caught up in a kind of sharper-than-life dream -sequence, or sitting in a darkened theater watching events take place -on a dazzlingly bright screen. You may be doubled up with pain, but -you keep your eyes on the screen and very little that is happening -to the actors and actresses on a dramatic level is lost on you. You -even notice small details of background scenery that would escape -your attention ordinarily, and exactly what kind of clothes the -actresses are wearing. Light summer dresses with plunging necklines or -tight-fitting, form-molded swim suits--things you can't help noticing -even when you're doubled up with pain. It's why most of us fight to -stay alive, because Nature has made us that way to keep us from letting -go of the one thing that makes us stay in the pitcher's box when Death -is batting a thousand. - -Putting that much stress just on the engendering of life may be a trick -and a snare, when Death has set so cruel a trap for the winners, but -you seldom hear anyone complaining about it. It takes an awful lot -of grief and despair and pain to make anyone angrily resent the sex -snare, and take to eulogizing Death instead. - -It wasn't the reason everything I saw through the windows of the -ambulance registered so sharply in fitful flashes, because I had _that_ -right at my side. Joan was holding my hand and squeezing it and I only -had to turn my head to make me just about the toughest adversary Death -ever had. But what I said about the lighted cinema screen still holds. -What I did see, I saw with eyes that missed very little. And between -the bouts of blacking out the snatches of conversation I overheard came -to me just as distinctly. - -Part of the time it was a woman's voice I heard and I knew it had to be -Joan's voice, because there was no other woman in the ambulance with -me. But she wasn't talking to me. She was talking to one of the two men -in white who were sitting opposite me. They seemed about a half-mile -away most of the time, but occasionally the long bench they were -sitting on floated a little closer. - -The conversation, as I've said, came to me in snatches and it could -hardly have been called a running dialogue. The continuity alone would -have gotten a professional script writer fired, no matter how brilliant -he was otherwise. - -The only way I can whip it into shape is by recording it as if it were -continuous, filling in the part I overheard between blackouts with what -I didn't hear--staying close enough to what was probably being said to -keep the script writer on the job and eating. - -I'm pretty sure this is a fairly accurate re-write. - -Joan: What kind of a hospital is it? I'm sorry, I ... I guess I -shouldn't have asked you that. You're on the staff. No matter how frank -you might want to be.... - -Doctor Mile-Away: If I thought it wasn't a good hospital I wouldn't -say so, naturally. But it happens to match up very well with the eight -or ten you'd want him to be taken to Earthside, if you had a choice. -The facilities are first-rate, completely up to date. There are four -surgeons I'd trust my life to with equal confidence ... and one of them -happens to be my dad. - -Joan: I hope to God he gets one of them. - -Doctor: There are only four surgeons. We don't get too many surgical -cases in the Colony--not nearly as many as you might think. There's as -much violence here, perhaps, as there is in New Chicago but it takes a -different form. We can't keep atomic hand-guns out of criminal hands as -easily as you can in New Chicago, because the lawless element in the -Colony has more socio-political power and can get more weapons in that -destructive category smuggled in. As you know, an atomic hand-gun has -a very limited destructive potential, since there's no fallout and it -can only kill a man standing directly in its path. But when it does ... -there isn't much margin left for surgery. - -Joan: You mean _criminals_ are in control here? - -Doctor: Oh, it's not quite that bad. Possibly about one colonist in -twenty has dangerous criminal tendencies. The proportion is larger here -only because it's a new society, with a pioneering outlook. You might -call it a wolf-eat-wolf society. On Earth the dog-eat-dog tendencies -will probably never be completely eradicated but we've gone a long way -in that respect just in the last half-century. Here we have further to -go, because the dogs are still wolves. - -Joan: Will you ever tame them? My husband may be dying right here; that -doesn't look so tame! I think your Mars Colony is a filthy jungle! - -Doctor: I didn't have much time to talk with Commander Littlefield. But -from what _he_ said I'm pretty sure you don't really feel that way. -I don't know why you and your husband are here, but the Colonization -Board seldom gives clearance to people who feel that way about the -future of the Colony. In fact ... I can't remember ever having met a -man or woman who managed to deceive the Board, because the screening -is the opposite of superficial. They go into your past history, I -understand, and give you psychological tests I'm not even sure I could -pass, convinced as I am that the Colony is still Man's best hope in a -world where to stand still is always disastrous. There's no other sane -solution to the population problem, just to mention one of the fifty or -sixty major problems we'll have to solve or perish in in the next two -centuries. I have my moments of doubt and cynicism.... - -Joan: You should be having one right now. How would _you_ feel if you -were taking your wife to the hospital for an emergency operation and -didn't know whether she was going to live or die? Suppose it was your -wife instead of my husband? We didn't even have time to set foot in the -Colony. If there's that much danger before you even-- - -Doctor: Just hold on a minute. Let's get this straightened out right -now. It will make you feel better. No one in the Colony tried to kill -your husband. That dart was aimed at him from above--by one of the -passengers. They're all being held for questioning and if the firing -mechanism is found on one of them-- - -That, for me, was the end of the dialogue. But just before I blacked -out for the last time I saw a sign high up over one of the buildings. -It read: WENDEL ATOMICS. - -And I went down into the darkness with that sign flashing in big -illuminated letters right in the middle of the darkness. WENDEL -ATOMICS. WENDEL. WENDEL ATOMICS. And in much smaller letters, which -were not nearly as bright: _Endicott Fuel_. - -The big letters growing larger, brighter ... the small letters -dwindling. - -Just as I felt myself to be dwindling ... as I passed deeper and deeper -into the darkness. - - - - -10 - - -"He's a big man," I heard a woman's voice say. "It took every ounce of -my strength to lift him. But he had to be moved to the edge of the bed, -doctor. The sheets had to be changed." - -A whirling in my head, needles darting in and out. I had to strain my -ears to catch what another voice was saying in reply. It was a man's -voice, but gruff, deep-throated and somehow less distinct than the -first voice. Perhaps Gruff Voice was standing further from the bed. Or -possibly he didn't want me to hear what he was telling the nurse. - -She had to be a nurse, because Gruff Voice wasn't addressing her -by name. He wasn't calling her Miss Hadley or Miss Betty Anne -Simpson-Cruickshank. He was saying "Nurse this," and "Nurse that" and -speaking with crisp authority, as if there was a gulf between a nurse -and a doctor which even the kindliest, least hidebound of physicians -had no right to ignore. - -I rather liked his voice, gruff as it was. He spoke with the air of a -man who knew his business, with a kind of restrained sympathy--the "no -nonsense" approach. Too much calm self-assurance can be irritating, -because it usually goes with the inflated egos of people who think very -highly of themselves. But in a doctor you don't object to that sort of -thing so much. - -"He's waking up," Gruff Voice was saying. "Just let him rest and don't -encourage him to talk. No more sedation--he won't need it. Did you take -his temperature, Nurse?" - -"Just ten minutes ago, Doctor. It's on the chart. I always--" - -"Put it down immediately? Who do you think you're kidding, Susan, -my love? Once in awhile you put it off, when this kind of emergency -case makes you wish you had a dozen pairs of hands. You put if off -for fifteen or twenty minutes, when you've no reason to think some -white-coated drum major is going to barge in unexpectedly, just to lean -on you. Did you ever know me to lean, Susan--heavily or otherwise? -You're doing the best you can and it's a very good 'best.' I wish we -had more 'bests' like it." - -"I do feel ... sort of wobbly, Roger. I deserve to be leaned on, -because once you start feeling that way you're no longer at peak -efficiency and you become nervously over-scrupulous. That's both good -and bad, if you know what I mean." - -"What did you expect, Susan? I could have had a nurse in here to -relieve you hours ago if you hadn't been so stubborn. You've been -worrying your cute blonde head off without stopping to rest for sixteen -hours, and you never set eyes on the guy before this morning. What is -there about some men--" - -"It was touch and go, Roger. You said yourself that a little of the -poison got into his blood. You told me a tenth of a cc would have been -fatal." - -"That was when I first looked at the lab analysis and took the -gloomiest possible view of his chances. I didn't even know you heard -me. Damn it all, Susan. Can't a doctor think out loud without giving -his most competent nurse a martyr complex? What is there about him? I'm -asking you. If he wasn't married I could perhaps understand it. I could -at least make a stab at trying to figure it out. But you've seen his -wife. A man with a wife as attractive as she is would have to be even -more susceptible than I am to look twice at another woman. That's just -another way of saying it couldn't happen." - -"I've had two long talks with her, Roger. She loves him so much that -if anything happened to him I'm afraid to think what she might do. All -alone on Mars, with no close relatives or friends to turn to for help -and warmth and comfort. She'd need a lot of support, because there's -nothing shallow about her. She's the intense type, very deep in her -emotions. I'm that way myself." - -"You don't have to tell me," I could hear him saying. "You're the -empathy-plus type. It's what makes a good many otherwise sensible women -embrace the toughest profession on the list. Hard-boiled, unemotional -women make good nurses too. But I prefer the kind of nurse you can't -help being. Only ... a little moderation even in people who go all out -can be a saving grace." - -"But don't you see, Roger? It means I can identify with her. I know -exactly how terrible the uncertainty must be for her, because if I -loved a man that much and lost him I'd probably go right out and kill -myself. If you want the full truth ... there's probably a little of -the male-female absurdity mixed up in it too. It's an absurdity in a -situation like this, where it makes no sense. But just the fact that -he's a man and I'm a woman--" - -"Talk like that will get you nowhere," he said. "I'm too sure of you." - -There was a rustling sound and a sudden gasp and I was pretty sure I -knew what it meant. He'd taken her into his arms and was kissing her. -I don't know why I didn't open my eyes. I was fully awake now, aware -of every movement in the room. But I just remained quiet and listened, -grateful that the needles had stopped jabbing at my temples and my -dizziness was practically gone. - -Sometimes when you awake suddenly from a deep sleep your eyes feel -glued shut, and it takes an effort just to open them. You let it ride -for a moment, while you pull yourself together ... especially if it's a -nightmare you've just awakened from. There's a kind of pleasure in it. - -He was talking again. "I've yet to meet a woman who doesn't think that -clinical self-analysis will keep a man guessing about her. But that -kind of candor will get you nowhere with me, kiddo. I know you too -well. Are you convinced?" - -"Yes," she said, with a meekness that surprised me. - -He didn't say anything for a moment, but I could hear him moving about -and a metallic click, as if he were folding up his stethoscope or -returning a hypodermic to its case. - -A sound like that is always a little unnerving and an operating table -and a long row of gleaming instruments flashed evanescently across -my mind. I wondered how bad it was and if Martian hospitals were -well-equipped, and had just the right facilities to take care of an -emergency case requiring major surgery. - -But he'd said I was out of danger, hadn't he ... that I didn't even -need more sedation? Sure he had. I'd been stabbed with a poisoned -dart, but that didn't mean I'd have to go on the operating table. They -would never have let the dart stay inside me. If an operation had been -needed, it would have been performed immediately.... - -Perhaps it had. Well, to hell with it. I was out of danger now and -beginning to mend and that was the only thing that counted. It had been -touch and go, she'd said. And Joan loved me so much that.... - -Hold on tight to that, Ralphie boy. It's the best news you'll ever -hear, even though you knew it all along, were sure of it on the day you -married her. What they didn't know and would have to guess about was -the feeling of oneness we had whenever we were together. - -I let that ride too, sweet as it was to dwell upon, and thought about -how mistaken I'd been about the doctor. He wasn't the kind of guy -I'd thought him. The "nurse this, nurse that" talk had been either a -performance, put on for my benefit just in case I was a little more -than semiconscious or--a routine, quickly-dropped formality. - -The second supposition seemed the most likely. A kind of ritual they -went through from habit, and because it's more ethical to keep a -doctor-nurse relationship on a formal plane when the patient is under -clinical scrutiny. After that, they could relax and be human. - -I had no complaint, because I liked both aspects of Gruff Voice's -personality. That I liked the nurse goes without saying, not only -because of what she'd said about Joan, but because of a certain -something.... - -All right. Gruff Voice had said that he was susceptible beyond the -average and so was I. A sweet soft woman bending over you, denying -herself sleep just to make sure you'll stay alive, doing her best to -ease your pain, sort of ... does things to you. It had nothing to do -with the way I felt about Joan. It wasn't actual disloyalty ... didn't -come within a mile of disloyalty. It was just the man-woman absurdity -she'd mentioned, only ... it wasn't an absurdity and never had been. - -It may be a hard thing for a woman to understand, sometimes. But it's -never hard for a man to understand, if he's honest with himself and -knows just how powerful the mating impulse can be in human beings. -Call it sex attraction if you want to, but when you've called it that -it's important to remember that the mating impulse is the basic, -anthropological prime mover. Sex is simply its _modus operandi_. On -Earth and on Mars, whenever a normal man and a normal woman are in -close proximity, even for ten or twelve seconds, the mating impulse -starts unwinding. On another planet of another star the _modus -operandi_ may not be sex as we know it, but something quite different, -if you can imagine another way of choosing a mate, building a home, and -filling it with healthy, happy children. - -It's a coiled-spring, trigger-mechanism kind of impulse and neither the -man nor the woman have to be attracted to each other on the personality -level, unless you want to be technical and regard the purely physical -as an attribute of personality. They can be young or old, plain or good -looking. Some attraction will be present, even under the most adverse -circumstances. But when the woman is young and beautiful and the -personality level warm and appealing you'll be deceiving yourself if -you think the impulse can be kept from arising just because you already -have a mate you're desperately in love with. - -You can conquer the impulse if you try hard enough and your love for -someone else is strong enough. That's what is meant by loyalty. But you -can't keep the impulse from arising and it makes no sense at all to -feel guilty about it. - -The human brain is a resourceful instrument and there are a dozen ways -of keeping a tight grip on your nerves when you wake up on a hospital -cot and hear unfamiliar voices talking about you. I chose the way that -was most natural to me. I concentrated on the scientific construct -I've just summarized, letting my mind glide over, and play around with -it for a minute or two and telling myself that I must thank the nurse -for all that she had done for me. When Gruff Voice left there would be -a glow, a brief moment of warmth between us that might have become a -high-leaping flame if I hadn't been in love with Joan and she hadn't -been carrying a torch for Gruff Voice. - -I wasn't even sure she was beautiful, but it seemed likely, because you -can tell a great deal about a woman just from the sound of her voice. -Even if she bent over and kissed me, her eyes shining a little because -she'd helped me outdistance Death a yard from the finish line and was -feeling grateful and thrilled about it ... well, that would have been -all right too. I didn't think Joan or the man who had just taken her -into his arms would have held that kind of kiss against us. - -I had the feeling that Gruff Voice was a generous-minded, all right -guy, and if an operation had been necessary to save my life he'd done -his best to increase my chances with all of the surgical know-how at -his command. - -Just that thought made me decide to open my eyes and try to raise -myself a little, because he had a right to know how grateful I felt. - -He was just going through the door. I could see that he was tall, blond -and rather sturdily built, but a wave of dizziness made me sink back -against the pillows again before I could get a really good look at him. -It's hard to tell what a man looks like anyway, when he's facing away -from you, and you can only see his disappearing shoulders and the back -of his head. - -When I opened my eyes for the second time, a full minute later, the -eyes that looked back at me were just as I'd pictured them. A deep, -lustrous brown. Her face was very much as I'd pictured it too, except -that I'd no way of knowing whether she was a blonde or a brunette. She -looked a little like Joan. Her hair was done up in a different way, and -her lips were a little fuller than Joan's and her cheekbones not quite -so prominent. Her nose, too, was a fraction of an inch shorter. But -otherwise she could have passed for Joan's sister. Not a twin sister, -for the resemblance wasn't anything like that pronounced. But it was -close to the family likeness you see quite often in portraits of two -sisters when one is smiling and the other looks seriously troubled. - -It flashed across my mind that if they had been standing side by side, -both wearing the same expression, the resemblance would have been -considerably more striking. - -It shouldn't have surprised me too much, because of what she'd said -to the doctor. Women who think and feel in much the same way are very -likely to bear a family resemblance physically. It's the sort of thing -which makes an anthropologist shake his head in vigorous denial. But -facts are facts and who was I to dispute them? - -"Just lie quiet," she whispered, patting me on the shoulder. "Dr. -Crawford says you mustn't try to talk. You're going to be all right. -I'm Miss Cherubin, your day nurse." - -She smiled, her eyes crinkling a little at the corners. "You should -have a night nurse too, but I've been staying on in her place." - -Cherubin. An angel? No--cherubim was spelt with an "M." And she wasn't -_that_ young or quite as rosy-cheeked as cherubs are supposed to be. - -What made it really tragic was my inability to reach out and touch her -or ask her a single question, because right at that moment another wave -of dizziness swept over me and I blacked out again. - - - - -11 - - -Right at this point there has to be a shift in the way I've been -recording events as they happened, because what happened next took -place elsewhere, while I was flat on my back in the hospital. By "what -happened next" I mean ... to me and Joan personally and to Commander -Littlefield and the Martian Colonization Board and everything I'd come -to Mars to take cognizance of, and do my best to change for the better. - -I know, I know. Ten million separate events are taking place all the -time on Earth and on Mars and by no stretch of the imagination could -they be thought of as an immediate part of this record. But when -the threads all start to draw together and tighten about you in a -destiny-altering way you have to keep the time-sequence in order and -record developments as they take place. Otherwise when they become of -immediate concern later on the entire picture will seem out of focus. -The frame will start lengthening out and the people in the picture will -be out-of-kelter also, and scattered all over the landscape. The only -way you can keep them sharply in focus is to record what happens to -them _when_ it happens. - -It shouldn't be too difficult, because there's a seeing eye that hovers -over the Mars' Colony day and night. The big Time-Space eye that -records everything that takes place in the universe, so that nothing -is ever really lost beyond re-capture. The past, the present and the -future keep flickering, in a backward-forward way, across that immense -retina, and some day a technique may be developed for running history -off in reverse and you'll see events that took place thousands of years -ago as if they were happening today on a lighted screen. - -So ... let's look through that Big Eye straight down at the Mars -Colony, you and I together. And remember. In this particular instance -we won't need a history-reversing gimmick at all, because what we'll -see and hear is NOW. It starts as a two-person conversation: - -"John, I'm frightened. What if the insulation isn't absolutely -foolproof? What if one of those Endicott Fuel containers isn't -shielded in just the right way? Suppose the radio-active stuff inside -builds up to what the nuclear physicists call critical mass and there's -an atomic explosion? Blowups have happened ... even in the Endicott -Laboratories under the strictest kind of supervision." - -"Now look. There's not the slightest danger. Do you think for one -moment Endicott would take that big a risk--even though Wendel has the -entire combine backed into a corner?" - -"They'd take any kind of risk now, because they have no choice. John, -if you were going to give me another baby you'd have given me fair -warning. I could have steeled myself to endure the harshness and -unfairness of it. But when you bring death home with you--" - -The woman had been very pretty once. You could see that just by -glancing at her. But now her face had a drawn, haggard look and her -pallor was more than pronounced. It verged on grayness. Her hair was -thinning and turning white and only her eyes remained lustrous, truly -alive, as if all that remained of the woman she had once been had -been drawn to a focus in the gaze she was training on her husband in -desperate appeal. - -"Why did you do it, John? You're not just endangering your life and -mine. If we didn't have four children ... maybe I wouldn't be talking -this way." - -"I told you I was forced into it, didn't I? Wendel is calling -Endicott's bluff. We can no longer go on buying Endicott fuel cylinders -openly on margin, hundreds of them and letting all of them stay in -Wendel's custody, because we don't really own them at all. The price -goes up or the price goes down and we sell out and buy again--and we're -supposed to own four-fifths of the Endicott Combine. But there's not -a single Colonist who owns the equivalent of four or five cylinders -outright. I don't own these six cylinders. But I had to bring them home -with me." - -"I just don't understand why. It's too complicated for me. A nuclear -explosion would be much easier for me to understand." - -"All right ... I'll go over it again. But try to listen more carefully -this time. Before this big, cut-throat war started only one man -suspected that one of the two competing combines might try to sell -its fluid property to the Colonists on margin. They were supposed to -cooperate, not compete, because it was thought that Wendel couldn't -possibly keep its nuclear generators operating without fuel. It can't, -of course, but only one man suspected that Endicott might refuse to be -dwarfed by Wendel in a sharp-practice duel and fight to stay big and -powerful by letting the Colonists buy and sell fuel on speculation. -That would put the Colonists right in the middle, don't you see?" - -"Yes ... I do," the woman who had once been almost beautiful said. -"Thank you for giving me credit for having that much intelligence. You -seem to forget that I have a fairly good memory too. We've gone over -this a hundred times." - -"Sure we have. But it doesn't seem to have made too deep an impression -on you. You can sum it all up by saying that _on paper_, from day to -day, it's the Colonists who now own the Endicott Combine, or most -of it. So it's the Colonists who are carrying the battle directly -to Wendel, fighting for the right to go on wildcatting, to get rich -overnight or end up pauperized. It's wildcatting in a sense, just as -it was when oil instead of atomic fuel was the big prize to be fought -over Earthside. When a Colonist buys Endicott fuel cylinders on margin, -it's practically the same as if he were digging an oil well in his own -backyard." - -"Go on, John," the woman said wearily. - -"There's that much uncertainty in it, don't you see? And he's really -doing it entirely single-handed and on his own, because he's digging in -what is practically a paper graveyard in some respects, unless he's one -of the lucky ones. Endicott keeps the fuel. It doesn't go out of their -hands. But Wendel still has to buy it directly from the Colonists, who -are supposed to own it, and the price fluctuations keep Wendel from -becoming all-powerful and Endicott from going under or being dwarfed. - -"In the main, it's the Colonists who have most to gain by keeping -Endicott powerful and solvent ... although the battle lines aren't so -tightly drawn that it doesn't become profitable, at times, to go over -to the Wendel side. There's a lot of sniping between the lines." - -"I know all that, John." - -"Well, here's what it all boils down to, what you didn't seem to grasp. -You asked me why I brought these six cylinders home. It's because -of the one man who did suspect, right from the first, and when the -charters were drawn up, that a war of this kind might be waged. I can't -even tell you his name. He was probably a minor legal expert or auditor -employed by the Board, who had shrewd prophetic gifts ... enough -foresight, at least ... to insert in fine print in both of the charters -a provision that Wendel is now using to call Endicott's bluff. - -"That provision doesn't say that Endicott can't sell some of their -fluid assets on margin. But it sets a limit to that kind of speculative -buying and selling. The same limit would apply to Wendel, but Wendel -has no fluid assets to sell on margin, and it can't very well break -up its generators and big transmission lines and sell them to the -Colonists piecemeal, even on margin. It wouldn't look right, because -you can't pretend that a fragment of a pipe that is still being -operated by a combine is a speculative commodity that has passed into -other hands and is subject to day-to-day fluctuations. - -"If you want to think of fluid assets as simply a share in a Combine's -profits, that's another matter. But I'm not talking about that kind of -fluid asset. Endicott has been selling to the Colonists in a literal -sense--_moveable fluid assets_. And in fine print in the Endicott -charter it says that Endicott can only sell about a third of its fuel -cylinders on margin. The others have to be purchased outright and -carried home and held by the purchaser until the price is right and he -can dispose of them at a profit. Or sell at a loss, as property." - -"But you say you didn't buy those cylinders outright. How could you -have done that?" the woman protested. "Just one cylinder would cost--a -third of a million dollars." - -"Naturally I didn't buy them outright. I bought them on margin. But -Wendel can't prove that. Endicott is covering up for me and because -I've brought them home and can slap my hand on the cool metal and tell -Wendel to go to hell if they try to dispute my ownership--Endicott -still has a chance to come out on top. Wendel is calling Endicott's -bluff, sure. But Endicott is countering with another bluff and they can -make it stick. Their auditing department knows just how to do that. -So every Colonist who wants to go on wildcatting now has to bring a -few cylinders home, to make it look as if he'd bought them outright. -Possession puts you nine-tenths on the winning side in any legal -argument. You ought to know that!" - -"Ought I? Just suppose I did. Would that stop me from becoming -terrified, when I know exactly what could happen if the metal isn't -as cool as you hope it will be when you slap your hand on it, and the -Wendel police stay cold-blooded about it, and wait around for the -fissionable material inside to reach critical mass." - -"You know damn well it would take an awful lot of accidental jarring -and jolting to trigger a fuel cylinder and make it blow up. It probably -couldn't happen, _except_ in a laboratory where they're careless about -such things because of overconfidence." - -"Dinner's on the table," the woman said. "We may as well go back into -the house while we've still got a home, and gather the children around -us, and tell them a few more lies about what the future is going to -be like in the Colony, now that one father in three will be bringing -nuclear fuel cylinders home with him." - -The man--his name was John Lynton--nodded and they returned into the -pre-fab. Lynton preceded his wife into the dwelling and the woman -paused for an instant in the doorway to stare back at the long metal -shed where the six cylinders were reposing ... letting her gaze take -in as well the double row of foot-high cactus plants which encircled -the yard and the sun-reddened stretch of open desert beyond. Then she -let the door swing shut behind her, and turned to face her four hungry -children. - -One thought alone sustained Grace Lynton at that moment. There had -never been any need, so far, for the children to go to bed hungry. -Their hunger was due solely to the demands of healthy young appetites -when dinner was a little delayed and they had been playing strenuously -in the yard all afternoon or going on exploring expeditions. - - - - -12 - - -They were all downstairs now, waiting to be fed, hardy perennials like -all children everywhere. Thomas with his shining morning face--it -seemed to stay that way right up until bedtime--and Susan, seven, and -still doll-wedded, and the twins, Hedy and Louise. Three girls and one -boy, and Grace Lynton felt a little sorry for her son at times, until -she remembered that a boy of thirteen isn't troubled by too many girls -in a family when he's seven or eight years their senior. The girls were -simply very young children to him and he was--well, right next door at -least to being grown up. - -"All right," John Lynton said, seating himself at the head of the -table. "Let's fall to and see who gets through first." - -"Did you have a tough day, Dad?" Thomas asked, reaching for a knife and -fork, and drawing a still steaming serving bowl toward him. His unruly -hair was so blond it seemed almost white and there was a double row of -freckles across the bridge of his nose. - -The other three children were brunettes, with hair ranging in color -from chestnut brown to jet black. Even the twins did not closely -resemble each other, as non-identical twins so often fail to do. - -"Don't annoy your father with questions now, Thomas ... please," Grace -Lynton said. - -"Why not?" Lynton asked, frowning at his wife. "I did have a tough day -and there's no sense in soft-pedaling it. Sometimes I almost wish we -hadn't come to Mars. No matter how rigorous a Board screening is ... -there are some things it can't tell you about yourself. Will you make a -good father on a world without trees or grass, with no way of getting -out into the green countryside and sitting down on the moss-covered -bank of a trout stream, with your kid at your side and having a heart -to heart talk with him in the cool shade of a big oak or cedar." - -"The stew's good, Mom," Thomas said. "Is it all right if I fill up my -plate again?" - -"Did I ever say you couldn't, Thomas?" Grace Lynton snapped, unable -to keep irritation out of her voice, despite her son's compliment. -"There'll never be any food shortages in this house, if we have to sell -all of the furniture." - -"Leave enough for me, Thomas," Hedy Lynton said. - -"Don't worry, I will," Thomas said. "But if you keep on eating the way -you do you'll grow up fat, and no man in the Colony will marry a fat -woman when there are so many thin ones." - -"That's very well put, Thomas," Lynton said. "I have a brilliant -son--practically a genius. But don't let it go to your head, boy. -Unless you're in the electronic field or have some other technical -specialty a straightforward, rugged he-man can do more for the Colony." - -"What kind of talk is that, John?" Grace Lynton demanded. "There's -nothing unmanly about a genius, in any field." - -"No, I suppose not. But I wouldn't want him to be a poet or a painter. -They just stand back and observe life and I'd like to see my son wade -in fighting." - -The daylight outside had started fading before Lynton and his wife had -returned indoors. But now the quickly-arriving Mars' night was almost -at hand, and the twilight had deepened outside and was giving way to -complete darkness at the edge of the desert. - -The two adults and four children seated about the table hadn't once -glanced toward the window, for the food and contentious conversation -had absorbed all of their attention. - -It was Thomas who saw the light first, flickering on and off close to -the shed. He had always wanted, deep down, in a secret way that he -had never dared to discuss with anyone, to be an artist and paint at -least a hundred pictures that would show the people who looked at them -exactly what life on Mars was like. And his father's gaze, trained -upon him in such a steady way, had made him squirm inwardly, as if his -secret might at any moment be exposed. To avoid his father's gaze he'd -looked straight out the window and seen the strange light flickering on -and off. - -"Dad!" he said. - -"What is it, son?" - -"There's a light moving around out in the yard, close to the shed." - -If Thomas had suddenly toppled over dead his father could not have -leapt up from the table with more horror in his eyes. - -"Why ... why ... Good God! Wendel wouldn't go _that_ far! It would be -an act of madness!" - -"John, you don't think--" - -Thomas' mother was on her feet too now, her face drained of all color, -her eyes darting to the window and back to the tight-lipped, violently -trembling man at the head of the table. John Lynton's face had gone as -white as her own. - -For a minute Thomas thought that his father was going to rush right out -into the yard and grab hold of the intruder, as fast as he'd leapt up -from the table. Then he saw he'd guessed wrong about that. - -Lynton crossed the room in five long strides, swung open the weapon -locker and grabbed hold of a holstered hand-gun instead. He strapped -the holster to his waist before whipping out the weapon and snapping -off the safety mechanism. - -He was starting for the door when Grace Lynton called out warningly: -"John, don't! _John!_" - -He swung about, staring at her in consternation. "Don't what? If -they've tampered with those cylinders I'll make sure they won't live to -blow up another man's home--or half the Colony!" - -"You can't blast them down!" Her voice rose shrilly. "No, John! A -hand-gun blast that close to a fuel cylinder would set off a chain -reaction--" - -"No, it won't. The blast is channeled. Don't be a fool, Grace. I know -what I'm doing." - -"You're the fool! You'll get us all killed!" - -"If they've tampered with just one of those cylinders we won't have to -worry about what a hand-gun blast will do. But they won't save their -own skins before the _big_ blast hits us. That's one thing I can make -sure of." - -He turned and was gone. She started to follow him out into the yard, -but became aware of how dangerous that would be just in time. If she -followed her husband the children would almost certainly follow her, -for she couldn't order them to stay indoors and hope to be obeyed. - -She rushed to the window and stared out, her face pressed to the pane. - -She could feel Thomas pressing close to her--or was it Hedy or Susan? -There was a heaviness in his body which made her almost sure it was -Thomas. But that meant nothing, because she loved all of her children -equally. - -Suddenly she was sure it was Thomas, because he was speaking to her. -"Take it easy, Mom! Dad'll take care of whoever it is. He's got a -hand-gun to protect him." - -"Oh, I know he has!" she wanted to scream. "It will be a beautiful way -of protecting us all ... by sending us straight into eternity. God, -dear God, don't let him blast. Don't--" - -The blast came then, lighting up the darkness outside, making the -windowpanes rattle. For an instant Grace Lynton could see her husband -clearly, standing by the shed with a white flare spreading outward from -his shoulders. - -Then the flare dwindled and vanished and Grace Lynton had no way of -knowing what had happened outside in the dark. She was sure of only -one thing. She couldn't stay inside the house with her husband moving -about a few feet from fuel cylinders that might blow up at any moment, -for there was at least a fifty percent likelihood that the intruder had -accomplished what he'd come to do, before Thomas had seen the light -bobbing about in the yard. - -She had straightened and was hugging her son to her, just starting to -turn, when John Lynton's voice rang out sharply from the doorway. - -"Grace! I blasted at him but he got away! Listen carefully. I've only a -moment to talk." - -He was standing in the doorway with the hand-gun reholstered at his -waist, its handle gleaming dully. His pallor was startling, for it went -far beyond mere paleness, as if all the blood had been drawn from his -face artificially, leaving the skin gray and shrunken. - -"I can't be sure, but I think ... one of the cylinders has been -triggered to blow up," he went on quickly. "It isn't heating up. -There'd be no heat--just a faint vibration. When I put my hand on the -metal I was almost sure I could feel a vibration. We've got just one -chance of staying alive--and I'll have to move fast. I'm going to take -it to the Spaceport--I can get there in the conveyor truck in ten -minutes--and have them dismantle it. They'll know how. I don't. I'll -take all six of the cylinders, to make sure." - -"John, no! It will blow up in the truck. I'm sure of it. We'd better -all get out in the desert, as far away from it as we can. If we start -right now and run--" - -"We could go in the truck, Dad!" Thomas cried. - -Lynton shook his head. "If just one cylinder blows up--it will take -three miles of desert with it. If all six go ... twenty miles of -desert. There are at least six thousand Colonists within three or four -miles of us. There are less than a thousand people at the Spaceport. -Only one big sky ship is still unloading. Better a thousand deaths than -six or seven thousand ... if it blows up before they can dismantle it." - -"But John--Oh, God, I don't know." - -"It's the best way, the surest way. We can't think only of ourselves. -If I drove straight out into the desert with it and it blows up within -twenty minutes the fallout would still kill several thousand Colonists. -The Spaceport's in the other direction, completely isolated. And I -can get there in fifteen minutes ... even if I'm stopped by the Wendel -police and have to blast my way to it." - -"Why should they try to stop you? They'd die themselves--" - -"Why did they send someone to trigger that bomb? They'll take any risk -now, because they know that Endicott's new bluff could smash them. That -cylinder is smaller than the first atomic bomb ever built--much smaller -than the one that was dropped on Hiroshima--and if they have to explode -a half-dozen of them in different parts of the Colony to demoralize the -Colonists and discredit Endicott they're prepared to do it, apparently. -Even if it kills thirty thousand people. Or maybe they figured the one -I'm taking to the Spaceport--and I _am_ taking it there, Grace--would -make the Colonists think twice about taking any more Endicott fuel -cylinders home with them." - -"You're right, John," Grace Lynton said, with a firmness in her voice -which surprised her. "We can't think only of ourselves. Until you come -back--every moment will be a living death. But--you must do it. There's -no other way." - -"I'll be back," Lynton said. "I--I love you, Grace." - -"And I love you, John--even though I've said cruel, cutting things at -times. I love you very much." - -"Take care of yourself, Dad," Thomas said. - -"I will, son. Don't worry. Just be the man of the family and keep the -kids in line until I get back." - - - - -13 - - -I had no way of knowing how long I remained on the outer fringes of -what was probably just a weakness-produced blackout before the outlines -of the hospital room wavered back, becoming so clear again that I could -see the foot of the bed, and a glass-topped table covered with small -bottles and a roll of gauze bandage that looked about as big as a -liquid fuel cylinder. - -Someone who couldn't have been the doctor was sitting in a chair by -the bed, leaning a little forward, his eyes level with mine. I was -more than startled. An ice-cold measuring worm came out at the base of -my spine and started inching its way upward, bunching itself up and -lengthening out again, the way measuring worms do when they're trying -to decide if you're just the right fit for a human-style coffin. - -I had a visitor whose face would have chilled a perfectly well man -prepared to defend himself against violence at the drop of a hat. He -was looking at me with a glacial animosity in his stare, as if he -resented the fact that I was still alive and would do something about -it if I gave him the slightest encouragement. - -Even without encouragement I had the feeling that my life hung by a -thread which could snap at any moment, so long as he remained that -close to me with no one standing by to interfere if he lost control of -himself. - -He didn't have a moronic or particularly brutal looking face. -Intelligence of a high order had given his features a cast you -couldn't mistake. It was the kind of look that went with disciplined -thinking--long years of it--and behavior that was based on intellectual -discernment, however much that discernment had been abused during -moments of uncontrollable rage. Uncontrollable rage, as every -psychologist knows, can tie the reasoning part of any man's mind into -knots. Everything that was primitive in him seemed to be at the helm -now, as if he bore me so much ill-will that he might be capable of -trying to take my life with just his bare hands, if he happened to be -unarmed. And I was far from sure of that. - -His glacial gray eyes seemed to say: "I've got you exactly where I -want you, chum. It won't do you any good to shout for help. It stands -to reason that if I could get in here to talk to you at a time like -this, throwing my weight around a little further would be no problem -at all. Five minutes of privacy will suit me fine. After all, how long -will killing you take?" - -He was a fairly big man, compactly built, with hands that looked strong -enough to bend a steel bar, if he didn't mind chancing a rush of blood -to the head that might have been a little risky in a man his age. - -I had no idea why he was sitting there, only that the alarm bells were -ringing again. Only this time it wasn't taking place in a crowded -subway train in total darkness, or up near the top of a swaying spiral -where an assassin's aim could be a little less than sure. It was man to -man, tete-a-tete, in a well-lighted hospital room. - -I was flat on my back and weak as hell and Death was looking straight -at me out of ice-blue eyes. I had only one straw to clutch at. The -hospital room might just possibly be under surveillance and an act of -violence that's likely to boomerang can give an assassin pause. - -His first words ripped that straw from me and crumpled it up, with such -vigor I was sure I could hear a crunching sound. - -"I've just a few questions to ask you," he said, in a surprisingly mild -tone. "We've made sure that there are no recording devices in this -room. We always make a careful check as a matter of routine, when we're -forced to demand complete privacy during an interrogation of this sort. -It's something we'd prefer not to do, but there are times--" - -He shrugged, as if he'd made the point clear enough and resented the -necessity of making it any plainer. - -"When the internal security of the Colony is endangered," he went on -impatiently, "we do not hesitate to invoke all of our authority. We -have no choice. Too many people take it for granted that a privately -owned combine is exceeding its authority when it undertakes police -investigations not specifically authorized by its charter. They -forget that such police powers are implicit in every charter which -provides for the exercise of reasonable vigilance in the public domain. -Safe-guarding the public, which Wendel Atomics serves, would not be -possible if we did not exercise such authority." - -How true that was I didn't have enough legal knowledge at my -finger-tips to decide. But I was pretty sure it was a bald-faced lie. -But just his use of the word "power" explained how he'd managed to get -as close to me as he'd done, with no one within earshot to hear me if I -burst my lungs shouting. - -The kind of power the Board had given me the right to exercise -superceded whatever display of authority Wendel Atomics had used to -turn the hospital room into a prison cell. But who would know or make -a move to save me--if the silver bird didn't get a chance to flap its -wings on my uniform until they were pumping embalming fluid into my -veins and making plans to lower me, with a ceremonial flourish, into a -desert grave? - -"There are a few things Wendel Atomics has a right to know," Glacial -Stare was saying. "A legal right--make no mistake about that. I'd -advise you not to lie to me. If you do--" - -He shrugged again. - -I said something then that surprised me, because I didn't think right -at the moment I had that much defiance on tap. - -"Shove it!" I said. - -He couldn't have heard me, because he went on with no change of -expression. "Commander Littlefield is within his rights in refusing -to permit us to question him as to what took place on board the Mars' -rocket. We have no jurisdiction over such ... irregularities in space. -If we questioned just one of his officers, the Board would have every -right to revoke our charter. But two of the officers have come to -us and voluntarily submitted information which we cannot ignore. We -believe that the internal security of the Colony is in danger and we -intend to take steps to make sure that none of the questions we have a -right to ask will remain unanswered." - -He was laying it on the line, all right, speaking with an almost -surgical kind of precision, so that I couldn't claim later--if I turned -stubborn--that I'd failed to understand him. It's funny how a man who's -holding all the cards will sometimes do that, just on the off-chance -that you may have an ace up your sleeve and may use it to make trouble -for him later on. - -He must have been pretty sure I didn't have a concealed ace, however, -for he backed up what he was saying with the most dangerous kind of -threat. Dangerous to him ... if there _had_ been a hidden listening -device in the room and a tape with that threat on it had come to the -attention of the Board. - -"I hope, for your sake," he said, "that you'll keep nothing back. It -is very unpleasant to sit in a Big-Image interrogation room and have -part of your mind destroyed. The part you value most, that makes you -what you are--destroyed, sliced away. Yes ... _sliced away_ is quite -accurate, even though no instrument would be needed and not a hand -would be laid on you. You can cut deep into the brain with vibrations -alone. But nothing ... _physical_ ever takes place in the Big-Image -interrogation room. No knife or vibrator, as you know. The destruction -is brought about in a quite different way. But it's just as drastic and -irreversible as a prefrontal lobotomy." - -He stopped talking abruptly, looking past me at the opposite wall, -as if he could already see the shadow of a broken and tormented man -projected there. I could see it too, and I didn't like to think that I -was coming that close to sharing his thoughts. But it was useless to -pretend that the man who was casting that shadow might not turn out to -be me. - -So they had them on Mars, too, with the Wendel police on hand to -make sure that the big screen with its multiple sound tracks and the -smoothly operating projector were kept carefully hidden from the law. -Big-Image interrogation rooms--a cruel vestige of the brain-washing -techniques that had so outraged world opinion in the middle decades of -the twentieth century that they had been castigated and outlawed by -the United Nations, the World Court and every responsible Governmental -agency on Earth. - -But the criminal mind has very little respect for world opinion or -restrictions on brutal practices that are very difficult to enforce. -Big-Image interrogation had begun as a police investigation procedure, -which made it easy for the wrong kind of police force to resort to it -and claim historic precedent and moral justification as a cover-up if -their activities ever came to light. - -I was sure that Glacial Stare had mentioned it solely to turn the screw -as far as it would go, hoping I'd turn pale and answer his questions -in a completely cooperative way. I was sure that if I did he'd stop -threatening me immediately, listen with attentive ear to what I had to -say and apologize for letting me think, even for a moment, that it was -just a part of my mind he'd been planning to destroy. Why should he -want to upset me that way, when the only thing he'd had in mind from -the start was to persuade me to talk and then relieve me of all anxiety -by killing me? - -He wasn't giving me credit for having the kind of brain it would have -been worth taking the trouble to destroy, even in part, but there was -nothing to be gained by reminding him of that. - -You don't have to be a professional historian or even a data-collecting -research specialist in the police procedure field to pinpoint the -origin of Big-Image interrogation in the middle years of the twentieth -century. - -Three out of five well-informed people can tell you exactly how it -began, if you jog them into remembering by showing them a micro-film -recording of what took place during just one of those interrogations -sixty or seventy years ago. - -My memory didn't need to be jogged. I'd examined too many micro-film -recordings made even earlier than that--so many years before I was born -that the grooves have to be altered if you want to run them off in the -projectors that were in common use at the turn of the century, because -they ante-date even those old-style machines. - -As early as 1965 someone had discovered and pointed out that the cinema -was no longer just an entertainment medium. Everyone at the time, I -suppose, had made that discovery already, in a private sort of way, -but an entire society can have a blind spot and go right on clinging -to established patterns of thought, if only because people in general -are a little reluctant to discuss openly anything that threatens to -overturn the apple cart. - -At any rate, about 1965 someone whose name has not come down to -us--quite possibly he was a drama critic, that most curious of -breeds--had pointed out that the cinema had become a potentially -mind-shattering instrument of torture, which could be used to -brain-wash a spectator until he became a hopeless psychotic, incapable -of distinguishing reality from illusion. Schizophrenic or manic -depressive, take your pick. - -It was the bigger-than-life illusion that could do that--the strange, -often terrifying sense of being caught up in some super-reality that -had no real existence in time or space, in the ordinary way that -time-and-space manifests itself to us in everyday life. - -The cinema became potentially that kind of torture medium the instant -the first of the twenty-million-dollar spectacles in full color -appeared on the screen. - -We know what that kind of illusion can do today and when we watch a -screen spectacle that distorts reality for three or four hours by -making everything seem fifty or a hundred times as large as life ... we -make sure that we are entering a theater that is Government supervised -and not a Big-Image interrogation room presided over by a sadist in -police uniform. - -Everyone knows how it is today, and stays on guard, perpetually -alert. But back in the twentieth century the danger wasn't clearly -understood, and that lack of understanding was taken advantage of by -the brain-washers in uniform to exact confessions at a terrible price. - -Everyone is familiar with the disorientation I'm talking about. Even -the old stage plays and the earlier black-and-white movies and not -a few books could bring it about to some extent, when you left the -theater or closed the book, and passed from a world of dramatically -heightened illusion into the drabness of everyday life. - -But the big screen spectacles in full color, with electronic sound -effects, make the world of illusion and the world of sober reality seem -as far apart as two contradictory constructs in symbolic logic. When -you look at that kind of motion picture you get the illusion that all -of the events on the screen, even the intimate, two-person closeups, -are taking place on a gigantic scale. - -The sharpness and brightness of everything, the brilliance of the -colorama, the dramatic selectivity which makes each scene burn its -way into your brain as a titan encounter in a world of giants is so -overwhelming that when you emerge from the theater after watching such -a film the world of reality seems small, stunted, anaemic by contrast. - -You look at the men and women walking past you on the street and they -seem to have nothing in common with the men and women you've just -seen on the screen. That quiet little guy puffing on a cigarette and -returning your stunned stare with a perplexed frown may be the director -of a big power combine, with just as much lightning at his finger-tips. -But he seems like a pygmy. It would be impossible to visualize him as -a helmeted giant stripped to the waist, breasting wild seas at the -helm of a Viking ship or a spacesuited giant in a colorama with a -present-day background. - -In the big screen spectacles all of the men seem gigantic, with -tremendous, muscular torsos. Even the little guys look like titan -figures, fifty or a hundred times as large as they seem outside the -theater. And the women--with the possible exception of the very -feminine ones with overwhelming sex appeal--look like Amazons. - -You can't even equate the violence you encounter in everyday life with -the violence that takes place in a big screen spectacle. After you've -watched the spectacle kind of violence for three or four hours an -army equipped with the most formidable of modern weapons, closing in -on a half-bombed out city would look infinitely less formidable--toy -soldiers in a kindergarten world which the big-image, colorama giants -could topple and scatter just by inflating their cheeks and blowing on -them. - -Even the Big Mushroom, which we've miraculously managed to keep from -blowing Earth apart for almost a century now, looks fifty times as -destructive when you see it on the screen, spiraling skyward as the -crowning spectacle of a sound-color, fifty-million-dollar Armageddon. - -But remember this. It doesn't cost anything like that much to put -four or five giants from that kind of motion picture on a screen in a -Big-Image interrogation room. The cost, in fact, is negligible, because -just one scene can be repeated over and over. You're seated all alone -in the middle of what looks like a medieval torture chamber--if you -leave out the racks and thumbscrews and iron maidens and just think of -such a chamber as a blank-walled, cell-like horror--and on the screen, -fifty or a hundred times lifesize, are the lads who have been given the -task of cutting you down to size. - -_You're_ still very much a part of the puny world outside the theater -you've lived in most of your life. You know it, you feel it ... you -can't escape from it. When a big screen production has been designed -solely to entertain you, you can identify yourself with the giants -to some extent. You become a part of the illusion. But how can you -identify with four or five brutish looking lads with no resemblance to -yourself, with a look on their faces which says they hate your guts and -are out for blood and won't be satisfied until they've brain-washed you. - -Oh, it looks easy. Resistance, laughing in their faces, should be no -problem at all, because you know damn well it's nothing but an illusion. - -But just how long do you think you can go on believing that those -Neanderthaler types with five-pronged metal whip-lashes dangling from -their wrists aren't flesh-and-blood tormentors? - -All right, you still think it should be easy. All I can say is ... just -sit for five hours in a Big-Image interrogation room and try staying -sane. Go ahead, insist on being granted that privilege. It might be a -little difficult to come as close to it as I was right at that moment, -flat on my back in a hospital bed with Glacial Stare reminding me just -how terrible it could be. But you never know until you try. On Mars -bringing that about shouldn't be too difficult ... with Wendel Atomics -determined to build up a reputation for ruthlessness to protect its -interests in the war it was waging with Endicott Fuel and all of the -colonists who were being forced to wildcat in a commodity field so -explosive that it could turn them into killers of the dream and blow -them apart for good measure. - -But let's go back to the Big-Image interrogation room for a moment. -You're sitting there, staring up at the Neanderthaler-type giants -and they're staring down at you. Their eyes are slitted and they're -stripped to the waist and there is a fine sheen of sweat on their -chests. There is nothing trim or athletic looking about them. They're -heavyset, almost muscle-bound, with the outsize, very ugly-looking kind -of physical massiveness you see in some wrestlers, but hardly ever in a -professional boxer even in the heavyweight class. - -"Well, pal!" one of them says, winking at you. - -"I have an idea he'd like to high-hat us," another chimes in, winking -also, but at Muscle Bound Number One instead of at you. - -"We'll have to do something about that," Muscle Bound Number Three -insists. - -"Oh, we will ... we will. But we ought to give him a little time to get -better acquainted with us. Maybe we can soften him up a little just by -talking to him. What do you say?" - -"Sure, why not? You see a guy flat on his face, with his skull bashed -in, and you start feeling sorry for him. Right off, that's bad. It -keeps you from really setting to work on him." - -At first you can laugh, almost, because who ever heard of a screen -giant stepping out from the screen and slashing you across the chest -with a five-pronged metal whiplash? But if you know what's coming you -don't feel much like laughing, even at first. - -Because ... it goes on and on and on. It builds up and there's no way -you can shut it out, because they inject a drug just under your eyelids -which forces you to keep your eyes open. You can't close them no matter -how hard you try. And you can't turn your head aside, because you're -strapped to the seat and there's a clamp at the back of your head that -prevents you from moving it. - -It goes on and on, and after a while the giants are no longer on the -screen, but right in the interrogation room with you. One of them is -raising and lowering his arm, bringing the whiplash down on your bare -shoulders.... You can feel the thongs cutting into your flesh, and not -even screaming will put a stop to it, because you can't put a stop to -an illusion that is ripping your mind apart and letting all of the -sanity drain out of you. - -It's the hundred-times-bigger-than-life gimmick that does it, although -that slang-neat little word doesn't begin to do justice to what a -Big-Image interrogation can do to you. They're big, _big_, BIG, with -all the brutishness blown up, and showing on their faces. And they seem -to be leaning out from the screen before they emerge from it and you -can hear the whiplash swishing through the air and the sound of it is -magnified too, and just the whiplash alone seems large enough to rip -the hide off a mastodon. - -Worst of all, that hundred-times-bigger-than-life illusion doesn't -depend on size alone, as I've pointed out. It depends on the over-all -magnification of reality that takes place in a big screen spectacle, -the disorientation that makes the real world seem to shrivel into -insignificance. - -It seldom takes longer than five hours to complete the brain-washing. -You pass through three stages. At the end of an hour--or two, -at most--when the torment becomes almost unbearable you start -to hallucinate a little, but you're still sane enough to answer -most of the questions they ask you. Then you become so hopelessly -psychotic that your answers can no longer be relied on. But they're -satisfied, they've got what they wanted from you when they started the -interrogation. - -Without wasting any more time they go on to the third stage. They -calm you down and "cure" you with the mental-torture equivalent of a -prefrontal lobotomy. They do that to make sure you'll lose the part of -your mind that can resent what's been done to you, and summon enough -will power to turn accuser. - -And now I was lying flat on my back, unsure of how much strength was -left in me, and Glacial Stare was threatening me with _that_! Not -just an hour or two with the barrel-chested lads--on rare occasions -they stopped just short of the third stage--but the full, deep-cut -treatment. - - - - -14 - - -He'd made it plain that he was representing Wendel. But he hadn't come -right out and identified himself, and I had no way of knowing exactly -what kind of Wendel agent he was. The worst kind, beyond a doubt. But -what I would have liked to know took in more territory than that. - -Was he ... a replacement? Had he been instructed to step into the -shoes of the secret agent the robot had killed in space? If he had, -the satisfaction he'd get from killing me would probably exceed the -pleasure a run-of-the-mill Wendel police officer would experience. - -It would be easier for him to identify with the slain crewman and feel -a sense of personal outrage strong enough to make him think of himself -as an avenger. The fact that he wasn't wearing a uniform lent support -to that grim possibility. When a man has a strong personal reason for -wanting you dead it can make the official reason seem twice as urgent. -It could also bring into his face the kind of look that Glacial Stare -was still keeping trained on me. - -There was only one thing I knew with absolute certainty. Answering his -questions would do me no good--would only make the danger greater the -instant I stopped talking. I'd be signing my own death warrant with a -vengeance if I co-operated with him right there in the hospital room -and spared him the trouble of having me bound and gagged and smuggled -out of the hospital into a Big-Image interrogation room. - -Why make him a present of the only card I was holding? Why be that -charitable when ... God, how silly could you get? If I'd had my -strength or there had been anyone within earshot to dispute his -authority if I shouted for help--a one in fifty chance of it, even--I -might have been holding at least a Jack or a Queen. But never an Ace, -or four of a kind or a Royal Flush. About all I was holding was the -joker. In some games the joker can be the highest card in the deck, but -not in the kind of game the three of us were playing. - -It was the third player who was holding all of the really high cards. -He was hovering just behind Glacial Stare, with a shroud with my name -embroidered on it draped over his arm. He could see my hand clearly, -because he was looking straight at me out of eyes like holes in a skull. - -That scythe-and-sickle round is almost unbeatable because of the way -Death has of just quietly raising the ante until all hope is gone. -Sometimes you've no choice but to let him call your bluff, lay your -cards face up on the table, and wait for the blow to fall. - -Sometimes ... but not always. Death is a weird-o who doesn't really -want anyone to live to a crusty old age and that can anger you, and -there are no limits to what a certain kind of resentment can do for -you. You'll take desperate chances when you know the sands have just -about run out. - -I came up out of the bed so fast the electricity my body generated made -the sheets crackle. It wasn't the helplessly weak body I'd thought -it. Not at all. When I whipped back my arm I could feel a thrust of -power and resilience in my shoulder muscles that amazed me, because it -shouldn't have been there. There was no flabbiness or lack of muscle -tone. - -I crashed into him before my feet hit the floor, sinking my fist into -his mid-section and sending the chair he was sitting in skidding half -across the hospital room. - -He clung to both arms of the chair, too jolted to straighten up and try -to heave himself out of it before I shortened the distance between us -by hurling myself directly at him again. I just missed fumbling that -crucial follow-up, because my legs were deficient in muscle tone and -they almost collapsed under me before I got to him. - -I dragged him out of the chair and had him down on the floor and was -banging his head against the floor before he could get any kind of grip -on me. I wasn't in the least bit gentle about it. If I'd been banging -him around for five or ten minutes without stopping I couldn't have -heightened the look of shock and absolute horror in his eyes. - -The best he could do was twist about under me and try desperately to -raise himself a little, thrusting his head forward to keep me from -bringing it so violently into contact with the floor. He seemed to -be trying so hard to get out from under that I decided to help him. -I lifted him clean off the floor and slammed him back against the -wall--not once, but several times. - -I don't know where my strength came from, but even my legs were doing -all right now. They were still the weakest part of me, but they went -right on supporting me until I'd finished clouting him with something -that was just as good as a sledgehammer--the firm wall itself, -completely stationary as it was. If I'd been standing behind it using -it as a forward-thrusting shield his skull couldn't have cracked -against it any harder. - -I suppose it wasn't really the hospital room wall I was clouting him -with, because, as I say, it was stationary. But when you're extracting -the fangs of a dangerous little reptile who has just threatened you -with Big-Image interrogation and know that your strength may give out -at any moment cause and effect get swallowed up in an urgency that -can distort reality. His face was a confused blur for a moment. But a -second or two before all of the expression drained out of it and he -slumped jerkily to the floor my vision steadied and I saw that his look -of absolute horror had been replaced by the deadliest kind of hatred. - -It's always a little jolting, no matter how you slice it, to know that -a man who should be incapable of feeling anything but shock and pain -can pass out cold with that kind of look in his eyes. - -I'd gone berserk for a moment, but when I have to, when there's some -compelling reason for it, I can cool off fast. _Calm down_ would be -a more accurate way of phrasing it, for I knew it would take a long -time for the way I felt about Glacial Stare to turn from anger to -enlightened scientific detachment. He couldn't really help being what -he was, because what is known as the bastard-pattern gets grooved -into the poor unhappy devils who are afflicted with it way back in -childhood. They injure themselves more than they injure others, even -though what they do to others in the process often doesn't bear -thinking about. - -Right at the moment Glacial Stare had injured himself, but not -deliberately. I had done most of the injuring for him. But there would -be times when he'd punish himself twice as remorselessly, and he'd go -on doing it to the end of his days. If there's a hell on Earth the -sadistic bastards occupy it, and it's unscientific to feel anything but -pity for them. - -It was equally unscientific for me to feel anything but concern for -my own safety right at the moment, because I was still trapped in a -hospital room with all of the physical weakness I'd felt a few minutes -before creeping back and with no guarantee that if I walked out of the -room in a tottering condition I wouldn't run smack into another Wendel -agent. - -Quite possibly they had the hospital surrounded and when they saw what -I'd done to Glacial Stare they wouldn't talk with me as long as he had -done before I'd belted him unconscious. - -They'd either blast me down, cold-bloodedly and on the spot, with one -of the compact little hand-guns Doctor Mile-Away had discussed with -Joan on the ambulance--how many days, weeks away that ride seemed--or -gag and bind me and carry me out on a stretcher. - -Glacial Stare himself no longer worried me. He'd be out for as long as -it would take me to decide whether it would be better to go staggering -out of the hospital room and trust the first person I collided with not -to betray me, or flop back on the bed and shout for help from there. - -You do crazy things, sometimes, when you're that uncertain. There -wasn't a chance of his coming to immediately, but just automatically I -crouched beside him and rolled one of his eyelids back with my thumb. -The glazed pupil that stared sightlessly back at me gave me a jolt, -because it could have meant that I'd killed him. I thrust my hand under -his shirt and felt around for a heartbeat and found no trace of one. -His skin was clammy and very cold. - -Then I saw that he was still breathing. His chest rose and fell and -there was a sudden, dull thumping where my palm was resting. - -All right, that took care of him. He would live to turn vicious again. -But it didn't take care of me. I was still in the worst kind of danger, -and sounding off might be the unwisest thing I could do. But what -chance would I have otherwise? Someone would have to know or I'd likely -as not take all of the wrong risks. - -I had to fight off the weakness that was coming back and be ready for -anything--even a set-to with another Wendel agent or a half-dozen of -them. But I had to have an ally, someone who knew the hospital as well -as I knew the lines of my palm. I had to be briefed in advance, or I'd -have no way of knowing how good my chances were. - -How long could I stay on my feet, despite the weakness, if I decided -on a desperate gamble and attempted to get out of the hospital alive? -Did any of the doctors have enough authority to oppose Wendel, if I -told them who I was and they believed me. Or did Wendel have so much -power here they'd have to actually see the silver bird to take risks -on my behalf which would bring the entire staff an exceptional courage -citation from the Board--if I lived to set the record straight. - -And where was the silver bird and my secret-code identification papers? -Not on my person. All of my clothes had been removed and I was wearing -just a one-piece, in-patient garment with no pockets in it. It stood to -reason they'd gone through my clothes before attaching a tag to them -and filing them away, on the off-chance I might live to reclaim them. -In an emergency case they'd have displayed that much curiosity, at -least. It would have been no more than a routine procedure. - -Unless--Commander Littlefield had warned them not to tamper with my -clothes and to return them to him immediately. No, no--that was crazy. -The chances were he'd removed the silver bird and the identification -papers from my inner breast pocket before they'd bundled me into the -ambulance and they were now safely in his possession. Or perhaps Joan -had them. It was all pure guesswork, but I was fairly certain of one -thing. They hadn't found the silver bird or Glacial Stare would never -have been permitted-- - -Hell ... why not face it. I couldn't even be completely sure of that. -If Wendel was all-powerful here the doctors' hands would be tied, no -matter how much they knew about me. I'd have to be in robust health and -on my feet, with the silver bird gleaming on my shoulder, to overcome -that kind of power. - -Actually, I didn't think Commander Littlefield had told them anything. -It was the kind of secret he'd guard with his life, unless he'd had -reason to suspect that Wendel would send an agent to kill me before -I had a chance to tell him whether or not I thought the danger was -great enough to justify abandoning all secrecy ... immediately and as -a simple safety precaution. He'd respect my wishes in the matter, and -could certainly be excused for not having had the foresight to take -maximum precautions on his own initiative. It could very easily be -argued that he should have done so ... that he had blundered badly. But -I refused to condemn him for keeping the secrecy obligation so firmly -in mind that he'd failed to realize precisely how fast and ruthlessly -Wendel could move. And even if I'd been ringed about with security -precautions Wendel might have succeeded in convincing the hospital -staff that the silver bird was a lead counterfeit and Littlefield an -anti-Colony conspirator. - -A lot of suspicion hovered over the heads of the big sky ship -commanders, anyway--a sinister, shadowy aura woven of lies and slander -that accompanied them everywhere and greatly curtailed their authority -when they attempted to intervene in the affairs of the Colony. - -All that passed through my mind as I stood staring down at Glacial -Stare and helped me come to a decision. If I lived to get out of -the hospital I'd be on my own with a vengeance. But Littlefield was -still my best bet I'd be completely alone in totally unfamiliar -surroundings, facing a challenge such as no man had ever faced before -and survived to tell about it. - -I'd have to make my way through the Colony on foot, a stranger in -a world I'd had no time to adjust to and get back to the sky ship -somehow--even if it meant talking my way into the good graces of -criminals and hiding in dark alleys and learning new ways of thinking -and acting the hard way--but fast--and resorting to every dodge in the -book to keep one jump ahead of the Wendel agents. - -There'd be a hue and cry--and they'd be out for my blood. I had no -identification papers--nothing. I'd be as naked and vulnerable as the -day I was born in more ways than one--except that I'd be a grown man in -body and mind with a grown man's resourcefulness. - -I could only hope I'd prove equal to the task and acquit myself well -and succeed in silencing the skeptical part of myself that was shaking -its head in furious disbelief. - -I'd decided to make no attempt to get anyone into the room by sounding -off. Much as I needed an ally, the risk would be too great. No one had -come rushing in, and the fact that I'd been able to prevent Glacial -Stare from uttering a sound by taking him by complete surprise and -battering his skull against the wall until he folded was a point in my -favor. Not to regard it as a break and take full advantage of it would -have been foolish. - -Slipping quickly from the room and taking my chances made more sense -than waiting around for an ally to come to my assistance, because he -might not be an ally at all, but another Wendel agent. - -I was deliberately shutting my mind to the greatest danger--the Big One. - -You're deliberately shutting your mind to the Big One, Ralphie boy. -Getting back to the sky ship will be tough sledding, every foot of -the way, and you'll have to dodge and weave about and you may end up -dead in the darkest of Martian alleys, half blown apart by an atomic -hand-gun. But the Big One is getting out of the hospital itself, and -you're afraid to let yourself think about that because you know how -heavily the odds will be stacked against you. - -You don't know what the hospital is like--how big it is, even. You -don't know how many corridors there are, or how many alarm bells will -start ringing the instant anyone sees you. There may be a dozen nurses -to a floor and doctors constantly on the move from the operating rooms -to the recovery wards, and a Wendel agent or two on guard at the end -of each corridor. - -All the exits may be blocked, with Wendel agents aimed with atomic -hand-guns just waiting for you to show up running. You don't even know -how far the hospital is from the center of the Colony, only that--just -before you blacked out for the last time in the ambulance--you seemed -to be quite a distance from the heart of the Colony. - -Even if there are no guards at any of the exits and no one tries to -stop you how will you be able to find your way back to the spaceport -without a compass if the hospital is ten or fifteen miles from the -Colony, and all about you is a waste of desert sand and there are no -outgoing ambulances standing by to give you a lift. - -High up in one of the rooms there'll be a Wendel agent you've belted -into insensibility and he'll be stirring and calling out for help and -when they come swarming into the hospital room to lift him up--the -nurses and the doctors who can't help but blanch a little when he -reminds them just how powerful the Wendel Combine is--he'll have only -one thing to say to them. - -"Get me the Central Police Agency on the tele-communicator." - -You'll be out in the red desert, fighting your way toward the Colony -through a sandstorm perhaps, but ten or twelve minutes after that call -goes through you'll hear a droning overhead and that will be the end of -you. - -The hell of it was--no man ever needed an ally more desperately. I -needed a confederate, right at that moment in the room with me, if only -because I couldn't hope to cheat death for ten minutes running if I -ever reached the streets of the Colony without some Colony-type clothes -to replace the one-piece, in-patient garment I was wearing. A doctor's -white smock wouldn't do, and neither would a nurse's uniform. I didn't -have the right build to pass for a nurse even inside the walls of the -hospital, not to mention the craggy cast of my features and the heavy -growth of stubble which covered my cheeks. - - - - -15 - - -Far back in the twentieth century, when World War II was just coming -to a close, the anti-Nazi underground movement had helped quite a few -soldiers escape from prison camps disguised as women. It certainly -wasn't a stratagem to be rejected out of hand, when your life was at -stake. But somehow my masculine pride was affronted by the thought and -I did not take kindly to it. - -There had to be a lot of male patient's clothes hanging somewhere in -the hospital, but how was I to get my hands on a complete outfit if -I had to leave the hospital like a thief in the night, just one leap -ahead of Death in a Wendel police uniform? - -Stealth? Would that solve it? If I moved very cautiously at first, -putting the thought of what could happen out of my mind, and trying to -find a room where clothes were hanging? - -No--I couldn't afford to move too cautiously. I'd have to move fast and -boldly, trusting to blind ruck to protect me. But the clothes problem -still remained, and unless I could solve it-- - -She solved it for me. I didn't know that at first and neither did -she--I mean, she had no idea when she came back into the room that any -such problem would confront her. All she saw was Glacial Stare lying -slumped against the wall, his jaw sagging and the patient she'd left -flat on his back a short while before standing in the middle of the -room with his in-patient garment twisted grotesquely about his bony, -knobby knees and looking one hell of a mess. It's always been hard -for me to understand how a woman can find the angular, bony body of -a man attractive, especially when it's in a state of half-undress. -But there's no explaining the mystery of sex, and I'll give her this -much--she didn't give me a second glance for a moment. She had eyes -only for Glacial Stare. She stood staring down at him with all the -blood draining from her face, as if she'd never seen a dead man before -or a man as close to death as Glacial Stare seemed to be. - -I saw the scream coming just in time. I stepped in front of her and -clamped my hand over her mouth, drawing her close to me, and keeping a -tight grip on her shoulder to prevent her from breaking away from me -and making a dash for the door. - -I couldn't blame her for being scared or feeling, as she obviously did, -that I was responsible for the terrible state Glacial Stare was in. And -whatever Joan had told her about me ... and despite everything _she'd_ -told the doctor ... she'd been a nurse long enough to know that even a -woman who has been married to a man for many years can never be sure -he won't develop some odd, wild quirk of character which will turn him -into a murderer overnight. - -And that's even more true of a hospital patient who has been close to -death and running a fever and may still be in an irresponsible state, -his reason undermined by the suffering he's undergone. - -And she was completely right about one thing. I was entirely -responsible for the terrible state Glacial Stare was in. Only ... there -had been a reason for the violence I had unleashed against him, and I -wanted her to hear the full story as quickly as possible, so that she -would calm down and become a responsible person again herself. - -Hysteria is a woman's worst enemy ... and a man's too, for that matter. -But since it's ten times as common in women as in men it's a very -special problem which every man should know how to deal with. I was no -expert at it, but she helped me by listening to what I had to say in -my own defense as if her life depended on it. And when I was through -she seemed to agree with me that if someone had put an ether cone over -Glacial Stare's face in his sleep and relieved him of life's burdens in -a painless, merciful way they would have been doing humanity a service. - -"It's not right to feel that way," she said. "It makes you wonder about -yourself when you even think you'd like to see someone who's that -ruthless removed from a world that has too many merciless people in it. -But I guess everyone who isn't that way ... thinks about it at times." - -"I did more than think about it," I said. "But in the main I battered -him unconscious just to give myself a one in ten chance of staying -alive. The odds against me have shrunk a little, but not much. Unless I -can get out of here fast--" - -"You can!" she breathed. "I'll help you. No one will try to stop us, -if we make it look as if I was just walking with you to the end of -the corridor and back. We get patients right out of bed after minor -surgery, to keep them from losing their strength. It's the best way." - -"Minor surgery! You mean--" - -Nurse Cherubin nodded. "They didn't have to probe to get the dart out. -It didn't go deep into your back. It was the poison that made you so -ill. The dart struck a bone and that jammed the poison mechanism. The -dart splintered just a little, but not enough poison got into your -bloodstream to kill you. But you ran a fever and once or twice I was -really frightened, because your pulse started fluttering and you almost -stopped breathing." - -"Good God!" I looked at her, wondering. "If I was that close to death -how could my strength have come back so fast? I don't feel too good -right now. But I had enough strength when I crashed into him to drag -him from the chair, lift him up and slam him back against the wall." - -She nodded. "Even a dying man can do that sometimes, if he's threatened -in a violent enough way and desperately wants to stay alive. But -you weren't that weak, and you're not going to die. You've got more -strength right now than you realize. And you'll get stronger--not -weaker. After minor surgery the post-operative shock is usually minor -too, and the fever didn't last long enough to seriously weaken you. The -last blood test was good. No poison--not even a millionth of a c.c. You -perspired freely, and that helped to save your life." - -"All right," I said. "That's good news. Just the fact that you're the -only one who knows what would happen if I don't get out of here fast -would be better news--the best there is. Except that--" - -I shook my head and looked past her toward the door. "What good would a -walk up the corridor do me if there's a Wendel agent stationed at the -end of it? A doctor might be taken in, but a Wendel agent would wonder -why a nurse was helping me to keep my strength up when I could answer -questions better flat on my back. He'd come right back into this room -with us, to find out what happened." - -"There are no Wendel agents anywhere in the hospital," she said. "The -hospital would have put up a fight if a Wendel police officer had -insisted on questioning you as _he_ did--in private. It would have -been a losing battle, and we couldn't have held out for very long. By -tomorrow an armed guard would have demanded that you be released in -Wendel custody and you can't run a hospital in the Colony if you defy -the Wendel police to that extent." - -I stared at her, amazed. "Then how did he get in here to see me?" - -It was then that she exploded the bombshell. - -"If the Wendel Combine, with all of its socio-political power, came -here in the person of just one man and threatened to make full use of -that power if he was not allowed to talk to you in strict privacy ... -and that man was Henry Wendel himself--" - -She shrugged, glancing steadily for a moment at the slumped form of -Glacial Stare, with just an uncanny silence hovering over him. No trace -now of the power-aura that must have made hundreds of his yes-men turn -pale and snap to attention at various times in the past, if the look -he'd trained on me was ingrained and habitual with him. And I rather -thought it was. - -Mr. Big himself! And I'd banged him around without knowing, without -even suspecting that I was slamming the Wendel Power Combine back -against a hospital-room wall. All the immense height and depth and -weight of it, the big atomic transmission lines, the towering black -turbines, the boa constrictor coils that snaked in all directions -through the center of the Colony. The war, too--the wolf-eat-wolf war -that was being waged with Endicott Fuel, and the demoralization that -was sounding taps over graves that hadn't been dug yet but would bear -the Wendel trademark. - -The lawful authority that the silver bird had conferred on me would -have given me the right to act as his executioner then and there. But -you can't solve problems that way and hope to gain by it ... because -there are always other Mr. Bigs waiting to step into the shoes of the -Mr. Big you've taken care of in behalf of the common weal, with more -cocksureness than you've any right to exercise. - -When you cut off the head of that kind of boa constrictor and leave the -big coils intact the new head may be twice or three times as dangerous. - -That he had come to the hospital alone, completely unguarded, would -have been hard to believe if I hadn't remembered that an attempt had -been made to blast the sky ship apart in space solely because Wendel -wanted me out of the way. I was sure of that now. And if he wanted me -dead that bad, safe-guarding his person would probably have seemed of -minor importance to him. It could be waived--an inconsequential detail. -I had to be questioned and then killed, and he was the best man for the -job. He could trust no one else to handle it as well. - -The joker was--he had botched it. - -There were a lot more questions I wanted to ask Nurse Cherubin but -there just wasn't time for them. We'd wasted four or five minutes -already, just discussing the state of my health, and at any moment -someone might come through the door who would refuse to let me leave -when he saw what I'd done to Wendel. - -It wouldn't have to be a Wendel agent. No doctor who wasn't keen -about committing suicide would have let me go until Wendel came to, -and our two stories could be compared. I didn't have the silver bird -to back up my story, and when Wendel came to he'd simply step to a -tele-communicator and the hospital would be swarming with Wendel agents -before I could hope to win any converts. The fact that he'd come to -visit me unguarded didn't mean he'd placed himself in any real -jeopardy ... in his book at least. He couldn't have known I'd knock him -out cold, and even if the hospital was located fifteen miles from the -Colony it wouldn't take the Wendel police long to get to him. Ten or -twelve minutes, at most. - -Perhaps they were already on the way. It stood to reason. He'd hurried -himself and arrived ahead of them, but he'd want them to be there as -soon as he killed me, to dump my body on a stretcher and carry it out -under guard. - -When he killed me--God, how easy it was to overlook the most vital -things! I hadn't even searched him. If he had a weapon on him I could -certainly use it, for nothing can boost your morale quite so much when -your life is at stake as the firm, cool feel of an atomic hand-gun -against your palm. - -I was starting toward him when Nurse Cherubin said: "Stay here, and -keep the door locked until I come back. I'll tap three times. I've got -to get you some clothes." - -I nodded, feeling overwhelmingly grateful, tempted to take another -minute--precious as every minute was--to tell how wonderful I thought -her. She seemed to know without my saying a word, for her wide mouth -smiled a little and she was gone. - -I stepped to the door and locked it, and then returned across the room -and bent over Mr. Big. - -I found the weapon but I had to roll him over to get at it, because it -was in a holster at his hip. His body was a dead weight, but when I got -the weapon free he stirred a little and groaned. I clouted him on the -jaw and he stopped groaning. Brutal? You bet it was, but I couldn't -afford to take any chances on his coming to. - -What would you have done? If I'd killed him right then and there, the -Board would not have censured me. I was sure of that. Not to have done -so was perhaps foolish, a weakness in me. I was cutting down my chances -of getting as far as the Colony, before a security alert went out, and -the Wendel police started after me with instructions to blast me down -on sight. - -But somehow I couldn't do it. Not only for the reasons I've -mentioned ... because a new head on the Wendel boa constrictor would -have solved nothing ... but because it went against the grain. I'd have -had a feeling of guilt I never could have completely thrown off. He'd -intended to kill me, all right ... no doubt of that. But I couldn't -return the compliment in the same coin. It made no sense, perhaps, but -that's the way it was. - -The weapon pleased me. It was an atomic hand-gun that had cost a small -fortune to construct--intricate, extremely compact, the latest model, -the finest, the best. Fortunately I knew a great deal about such -weapons, because unusual-type firearms have always fascinated me. - -This one I was sure I could aim and fire with accuracy, even though -some of the precision gadgetry was new to me. Twenty-five thousand -dollars at least that gun had set Henry Wendel back, but what was -twenty-five thousand to a man with a fortune of eight or ten billion? - -It seemed tragic and a pity that all of that money should have been -spent on a weapon that would pass out of his hands into the possession -of a man unfriendly to him. But it didn't sadden me too much and I felt -even less sad when I'd unbuckled the holster also, strapped it to my -own hip and thrust the hand-gun back into it. - -She knocked three times, as she'd promised and came in with some -clothes that some poor devil in another room would never live to put -on again. She told me as much while I was taking off my one-piece -in-patient garment. - -"Cancer," she said. "They're keeping him under sedation. You think -you're in trouble, that the game is hardly worth the candle, until you -see something like that. Then you realize how lucky you are--just to be -alive." - -"You don't have to tell me," I said. "I've often thought along those -lines." - -She wasn't embarrassed when I stood for a moment stark naked before -her, as most nurses aren't. I wasn't particularly embarrassed either, -because right at that moment I had no more sex awareness than a totem -pole. - -The clothes were a little small for me, but I had a feeling that in -the Colony not too much attention was paid to the way clothes fitted -you--or failed to fit. In a pioneering society ill-fitting clothes are -accepted as an indication that you are a rough-and-tumble sort of guy, -know your way around and are, for good measure, an old-timer, with -early-settler prestige. - -There were two more questions I had to ask her before I became a -babe-in-the-woods kind of grown man on Mars, with just the hand-gun and -a few highly trained areas of native intelligence to protect me--if I -succeeded in getting out of the hospital alive. It was still a very big -_if_, but the questions were just as vital, and were directly tied in -with it. - -Just how far _was_ the hospital from the Colony? And what was she going -to tell Joan to keep her from succumbing to panic when my darling -wanted to know what had become of me? - -Before we left the room she answered the second question reassuringly. -It had been weighing so heavily on my mind I'd been afraid to even let -myself bring it right out into the open and face it squarely. Mr. Big -hadn't even mentioned Joan in the ugly little talk I'd had with him, -and if she was still somewhere in the hospital I had a feeling he'd -have used her nearness as one more way of tightening the thumbscrew. - -I'd been right about that, apparently. "She had a talk with Commander -Littlefield on the tele-communicator," Nurse Cherubin said. "He advised -her to return to the Mars' rocket a few hours ago. He wanted to talk to -her ... said it was urgent ... and promised to check on your progress -report every half hour. She left in one of the outgoing ambulances. She -told me she'd be back just as soon as you regained consciousness. It's -a very short trip in an ambulance. The hospital is only eight miles -from the Colony." - -So that answered my first question too, but only in part. If there was -just a waste of blowing sand outside it would certainly cut down my -chances. But there had to be a firm-packed road for the ambulances to -travel over, didn't there? - -"No," she said, answering me in full a half-minute later, when the -door of the hospital room had been firmly closed behind us and we were -committed to the big risk and there could be no turning back. She -paused an instant to urge me to be cautious, to stagger a little and -grip her arm for support and try to look in all respects like a patient -taking his first uncertain walk after a minor operation. I didn't have -to worry about looking pale, but when she went on and explained what -she'd meant by the "no" relief swept over me and probably marred a -little the impression it was important to give anyone who chanced to -glance our way. - -"There's no desert to cross," she said. "It's all built up. You'll -be passing between high stone walls with massive metal grills set -deep in the stone most of the time, with here and there a gap and a -few scattered pre-fabs occupied by aereator-system workers and their -families." - -So that was it! I knew all about the Martian aerator-system and the big -turbines that pumped oxygen out over the Colony. So much oxygen, under -such stabilized pressure, that it stayed in equilibrium and didn't fly -off into space even under the light gravity. Even without the aerators -there was enough oxygen in the thin Martian atmosphere to enable a man -to stay alive for a short period, if he didn't mind going about with -his shoulders bent, gasping for breath and turning blue at intervals. -His cheeks, anyway, with the veins on his forehead standing out like -whipcords. - -The first colonists, as everyone knows, went about with oxygen tanks -strapped to their backs and took a whiff or two of the stuff in -Earth-atmosphere concentration through a flexible metal tube whenever -their lungs started burning. And inside the early pre-fabs, of course, -there were miniature aerator systems which made living indoors as -comfortable as it was Earthside. - -But the big aerator-system had completely eliminated the need--a health -hazard-diminishing need at best and never actually mandatory--of the -huge glass dome which imaginative science writers in the first three -decades of the Space Age had predicted as a _must_ for successful -Martian colonization. There are seldom any _musts_ when science -advances in seven league boots and you're right on the scene in person, -breathing in a planet's atmosphere for yourself and finding out that -there just happens to be a little more oxygen in it than precision -instruments on Earth had led you to anticipate. - -It wasn't a precision instrument of any kind I was needing right at -that moment--even to reassure me about my heart beat. I knew exactly -how fast it was beating--much too fast. We passed a doctor in a smock -so spotless it didn't seem as if he could have been wearing it for -longer than a few minutes. But the look of quick suspicion he trained -on us was ageless, the kind of look that comes into the eyes of a -trained professional man when he can't be quite sure that a subordinate -is doing the wise thing. - -What right had the nurse to take me for a walk along the corridor -when I looked that close to caving in? I feared for an instant I was -overdoing the act, but when the suspicion faded and he went past us -along the corridor I breathed more freely again. We passed a nurse who -didn't even glance at us and another--blonde and pert-nosed--who smiled -and nodded, just as if we were old friends. I wondered what she saw in -me. - -Then we were standing before an elevator at the end of the corridor and -the red down light came on ... because Nurse Cherubin had pressed the -down button ... and she was urging me to be cautious for the second -time. - -"We're going down three flights to the admitting ward," she said. She -smiled, as if she'd suddenly remembered there's nothing like a touch of -levity to relieve strain, even if it has to be forced. "But don't let -that dishearten you. Patients are discharged from the admitting ward -too. It's not quite as long as this corridor but it will be busier. -Patients, nurses--at least three doctors. We'll just walk right through -as if we had every right to be there. Just outside the emergency exit, -a few steps further on, there's a driveway which curves around behind -the hospital. Ambulances with accident victims use it, but there's not -likely to be an ambulance standing there. You go down a narrow flight -of stairs to get to it. Is that clear?" - -I nodded. "What do I do then?" - -"You just follow the driveway until it forks and the left turn will -take you into the clear-away between the aerators which leads directly -to the Colony. You won't have to pass in front of the hospital at all. -Ambulances may pass you before you get to the Colony, but you won't be -stopped and questioned. They'll think you're one of the aeration-system -workers." - -I had an impulse to give her a hug and tell her I loved her, quite sure -that she'd know what I meant, even if I did it inside the elevator -where it would have more an aspect of intimacy. You love people who go -all out to help you and they don't even have to be young and beautiful. -But when they are there's an added warmth somehow-- - -We carried it off better than I'd dared to hope. We descended in the -elevator, emerged arm in arm and walked right through the admitting -ward without even glancing at the fifteen or twenty people we had to -pass to get to the emergency exit she'd mentioned, a third of them -in white. No one stopped or questioned us, and we followed the same -nurse-helping-patient routine which had proved its worth on the third -floor of the hospital. - -And then--I did hug and kiss her, just once briefly before I went out -through the exit and down the stairs to the driveway. I hoped Joan -wouldn't mind if she ever got to hear about it. - -"Goodbye," I said. "And thank you." - - - - -16 - - -There was no waiting ambulance in the driveway. I descended the -stairway, twelve metal steps railed in on both sides, feeling grateful -for what she'd said right after I kissed her. "Don't worry about your -wife. If Wendel tries to make us send for her we'll find a way to roast -him over a slow fire until you're together again. There are three -doctors who will put up a stiff fight and I'm going to set to work on -all of them. You've no idea what a hospital can do with just the right -kind of delaying tactics." - -It took me less than two minutes to half-encircle the driveway, take -the turn she'd recommended and strike out for the Colony between the -towering gray walls of the aerators. - -The Big Grayness. I'd seen photographs of that tremendous engineering -project in my hell-bent-for-adventure years, when I'd sat at a desk -in a schoolroom, and imagined what it would be like to take part in -the construction work, standing on a dizzy height with an electronic -riveter in my hand, watching blue lights go on and off and sparks fly -up into the cool Martian night beneath a wilderness of stars. - -The reality was very much as I'd imagined it as a school kid, except -that I wasn't a construction worker looking down over it, a human fly -with a man-size job to do, but a guy that kid wouldn't have recognized, -his footsteps echoing on the catwalk at the base of it. I had a -giant-size job to do, but how could he have known it would some day -turn into anything _that_ big? - -It wasn't even a project anymore--half of it still in the blueprint -stage. It was completed and the towering gray walls were firm and -solid, and the grills were sending oxygen spiraling out over the Colony -without making me feel light-headed at all. - -Right at that moment I'd have welcomed a little oxygen intoxication -but the aerator-system didn't work that way. The flow was regulated -directly at the source, kept under controlled pressure and diffused -outward high up by rotary circulators. As it spread out over the Colony -it was drawn down to breathing level by another system of circulators, -stationed at intervals about the Colony and extending twenty-five miles -out into the surrounding desert. - -If you wanted to experience oxygen intoxication you had to strap a tank -to your back and breathe the stuff in through a tube in the old way. -But no one in his right mind would do that deliberately, for an excess -of oxygen can be five-ways dangerous on a planet where what you have to -worry about most is over-stimulation. - -There were catwalks on both sides of the aerator walls, with a central -lane wide enough for vehicles to pass in opposite directions. I kept -to the right hand side all the way to the Colony, and it took me about -thirty minutes to get there. My strength amazed me. It probably wasn't -quite up to par. But I only had to stop twice to rest and then only for -a minute or two. - -Two ambulances passed me, their red tail-lights blinking, but the -drivers didn't even turn their heads as the vehicles went droning -through the Big Grayness. Up above the sunlight was waning, and -turning red, but only a diffuse glow filled that two hundred-foot-high -artificial cavern. - -Three aerator-system workers, walking shoulder to shoulder, gave me a -bad jolt for a moment, for they had the look of Wendel police agents. -I encountered them just beyond a break in the cavern wall, where a -cluster of pre-fabs with children playing in the yards made five or six -acres of stony ground resemble a manufacturing town suburb Earthside. - -I should have known better than to be alarmed, because the three men -approaching me looked eager and expectant, as if they knew that a few -steps more would bring relaxation after toil and the warmth and glow of -a family reunion. - -But they had the husky build and sharp-angled features of Wendel police -officers and I stayed alert until one of them came to a dead halt and -looked me over genially. "New on the job, aren't you, Buster? Don't -remember having run into you before. They keep putting on so many new -men it's hard to be sure." - -"That's right," I said. "I live about two miles further on." - -"Well, it isn't the best job in the world, Buster, as I guess you've -found out already. You get sucked into a grill sometimes, and breathe -nothing but oxygen until you feel like a blue baby they're trying their -best to save, even if they have to fanny-whack him to get the stuff out -of his lungs for a week or two afterwards." - -"Don't discourage him, Pete," the tallest of the three chided. "You -have a cold, cold heart. It doesn't happen often." - -"You bet it doesn't ... or my wife would have been a widow long before -this. Well ... good luck, Buster. Be seeing you around ... I hope." - -I felt so relieved I didn't even resent the "Buster." He was just a big -grinning ape who liked to kid the living daylights out of his fellow -workers, whenever he thought he could get away with it. No harm in him, -and though there might have been times when I'd have been tempted to -take a poke at him ... I had no such impulse now. I just wanted to be -able to look back and see him dwindling in the distance. - -I ran into only one other person before the Big Grayness terminated. -She was a stout, matronly-looking woman carrying a baby and she nodded -and smiled warmly when she saw me staring at the infant, as if she -wouldn't have at all minded if I had been its father. - -For an instant there flashed into my mind the nerve-relaxing picture -that every normal male has of himself at times--the humble-station -husband, big-bosomed wife picture. You're Mr. Run-of-the-Mill, just a -simple guy, working hard at a lathe or feeding processed food tins into -a vacuumator. You come home at night with no worries, kick off your -shoes and she's there to make the creature comforts seem important. -A good meal on the table, fit for a king with a hearty appetite--do -kings ever have that kind of appetite?--children romping all over the -house--a round half-dozen upstairs and down--and the kind of night's -sleep you don't get when you have responsibilities weighing on you. The -top-echelon kind that can drive you half out of your mind. It's there -for the taking if you really want it, if you don't wear a silver bird -on your uniform when they add up the score and ask you why in hell you -haven't done better? - -It's not quite an accurate picture, because that kind of guy has -worries too--plenty of them. He has to buy shoes for the children and -grin and be tolerant when his wife turns shrewish, as every woman with -a large family and a big grocery bill is bound to do at times. But -still, when you balance the good against the bad, who gets the most out -of life--Mr. Run-of-the-Mill or Mr. Big? - -Well ... however much I might fume about it ... I had to be what I was. -I could honestly say that I'd never had any driving ambition to be the -kind of Mr. Big Wendel was. I just had a kind of inner compulsion to -be true to the best that was in me, to preserve my integrity and use -whatever wild talents I had to enrich human life and have some fun -while doing it. If I couldn't always have fun, if illness or death -or just plain bad luck prevented me from living life to the full and -enjoying it ... I'd known that when I'd cut the cards, hadn't I? You -have to play whatever cards destiny hands you. - -Just before I reached the last quarter mile of the aerator marathon I -passed another dwelling section, with more kids scampering about and -three or four women standing in the doorways of the pre-fabs. They -didn't look big-bosomy, but slender as willow trees and very beautiful. - -I certainly wasn't running, but it was a marathon in my book, the -walking kind where you keep your body held rigid, your arms bent -sharply at the elbows. There was only one good thing about it. I didn't -have to worry about out-distancing the other walkers, because it was a -one-man marathon. - -I came out into the biggest square I'd ever seen. The one opposite the -skyport I'd crossed with just as much tension and uncertainty mounting -in me an eternity ago on Earth was just about one-fourth as large, give -or take a few square yards of shadowy pavement. - -In a way, the Big Grayness was still with me, because there were -gigantic, interlocking shadows everywhere and although there was -nothing but open sky overhead spirals of wind-blown sand were swirling -across it, half-blotting out the waning sunlight. - -When you're sure that Death hasn't played his final trump or even -relaxed his vigilance and you could be yanked right back to confront -him at any moment a square as big and empty and desolate-looking as -that doesn't give you any support at all. - -All right, there was life and movement in it, if you want to call a -long line of tractors standing end to end on the far side, one of them -snail-active, life and movement. - -One of the trucks seemed to be backing up a little and edging out from -between the others, but I couldn't even be sure of that before an -ear-splitting blast of sound and a blinding flash of light shattered my -last link with the sane universe. - - - - -17 - - -I was lifted up and hurled backwards, so violently that if blind luck -hadn't saved me I'd have fractured my skull or felt, ripping through -my chest, the beaten-drum agony that sets in right after you've shaken -hands with a spinal concussion. - -I came down heavily, hitting the pavement with a thud. But in falling I -went into a kind of half-spin, and landed on my side in a loose-jointed -sprawl that just shook me up a little. - -I rolled over on my back and stared up in horror. For an instant I was -sure that the whole sky had burst into flame. Then the flare dimmed and -vanished and I could see that the dust spirals were still there. - -I raised myself on one elbow and stared out across the square. The -long line of tractors was still there, too. Not one of the vehicles -had been blown sky high. And as if that wasn't enough of a miracle -the snail-paced one had turned about and was heading straight in my -direction. - -It wasn't moving at a snail's pace now. It was coming directly at me -from mid-way in the square, rumbling and clattering as it came, its -heavy treads so ponderously in motion that the pavement under me was -beginning to vibrate. - -Nearer it came and nearer, swaying a little, and if the driver had been -some crazy killer bent on crushing me to death under the treads he -couldn't have gone about it more expertly, for he was maneuvering the -vehicle just enough to make sure that it would pass directly over me. - -How could I doubt it? It had veered slightly and swung back into a -straight-line course again, and if I'd tried to drag myself out of its -path there was room enough for it to veer again before I could hope to -save myself. - -It takes several seconds to recover from a scare like that, even when -the danger evaporates right before your eyes. All at once the tractor -_was_ veering again, but far enough to the left to make me feel certain -that I wouldn't be flattened to a pancake if I stayed where I was. -But you can feel certain about something like that and go right on -remembering what big tractors have done at various times in the past to -men unfortunate enough to be caught off guard when there's a killer in -the driver's seat. - -The vehicle came to a jolting, grinding halt a few yards to the left of -me, and the driver swung himself out of the glass-shielded front seat, -descended lightly to the ground, and was grabbing me by the arm and -helping me to rise before I could get a really good look at him. - -He'd descended from the tractor lightly because he was that kind of -a man--just about the most fragile-looking guy I'd ever seen. He was -lean to the point of emaciation, with gaunt cheeks and sparse white -hair that was fluffed out like thistledown by the wind that was blowing -across the square. - -He had deepset brown eyes, very sharp and piercing and they were -glowing now with a kind of feverish brightness, as if his agitation -matched my own or had reached a peak that was just a trifle higher. -There was nothing surprising about that, if he knew exactly what had -happened and it was as bad as I feared it might be. - -Despite his frailness, he had the features of a strong-willed man, the -chin and mouth firm, the nose pinched a little at the nostrils, as if -stubbornness in adversity had become an ingrained habit with him. I had -the feeling I'd seen that face before, but I couldn't remember where or -under what circumstances. - -I was certainly seeing it now under the most nerve-shattering of all -circumstances and would not be likely to forget it a second time. - -"How are you, all right?" he asked, his eyes searching my face as if -he was far from sure I knew myself and the way I looked would tell -him more than just a guess on my part. "That explosion was miles from -here," he went on breathlessly, "but it lifted the tractor right off -the ground, treads and all, for a second. I had the craziest kind -of floating sensation until it settled down and kept right on in -this direction. I increased the speed, because I sort of felt that a -fast-moving machine would have a better chance of not overturning." - -I stared at him half-dazedly, feeling like a pawn on a chessboard that -had tilted just far enough to make me wonder if it might not still be -precariously poised and go crashing at any moment. And since I couldn't -see the players I didn't know what the rules of that particular game -were or how far they had been abrogated. - -"How do you feel?" he asked. - -His solicitude amazed me, because if what he'd just said was true--and -I had no reason to doubt it--he should have been more shaken up than -I was and he seemed to have something on his mind that was making him -stare straight past me toward the Big Grayness. - -I was staring in the opposite direction. "I'm all right," I assured -him. "Just feel ... a little dizzy." I gestured toward the tractors on -the far side of the square. "What's over there? Did the explosion come -from there?" - -He shook his head. "No. I told you it was miles from here, in the -direction of the spaceport. That's the Endicott Administration -Building, fuel conveyor sections and two-thirds of the distributing -units. The tractors are all owned by Endicott. I backed this one out -from between them and had just about gotten it turned around when the -blast hit me." - -"I know," I said. "I saw you. I wondered why only one tractor--" - -That was as far as I got, because what hit me then was more jolting -than any blast could have been, and it wasn't even physical. Just one -word he'd let drop with a delayed-action fuse attached to it made me -snap my head back and look at him in desperation. He had no way of -knowing what was in my mind, but you don't think of that when you want -someone to do you a favor that's of life-and-death importance to you. - -I wanted him to withdraw that one word, to pretend at least that he -hadn't said it. It didn't have to be true, he could have been just -guessing. - -The word was "spaceport." It couldn't matter that much to him, surely. -It wasn't his wife but mine who was at the spaceport, and if he was -wrong about where the explosion had taken place it would cost him -nothing to be merciful and admit that he was far from sure about it. - -But before I could hope to get such an admission out of him he sounded -a knell to the granting of favors by saying: "Wendel technicians are -activating Endicott fuel cylinders in different sections of the Colony. -They're trying to turn the Colonists against Endicott by committing -mass murder. The cylinders will only destroy an area of a few square -miles, because they're not in the multiple-megaton, nuclear warhead -category. We never thought they'd be turned into bombs." - -Then came the knell. "We were warned about this, by a Colonist who's on -his way to the spaceport with one of the cylinders. Or he may be there -already. He just spoke to us briefly on the tele-communicator. That -explosion came from the direction of the spaceport, but it may not be -the one we were warned about. They may be trying to dismantle another -cylinder at the spaceport right now. They won't succeed, because only -an Endicott technician would know how to go about it." - -"Do you know?" - -He nodded. "Yes ... I can dismantle it. I can get to the spaceport in -about fifteen minutes, if I drive between the aerators and turn right -just before I get to the hospital. The clear-away from that point on -will take me through a section of the Colony and then straight out -across the desert to the spaceport. The Colonist who talked with us -made a serious mistake, but it wasn't his fault. He had no way of -knowing that it takes a fuel cylinder at least forty-five minutes -to build up to critical mass after it's been activated. In some -cases--fifty or fifty-five minutes." - -He paused an instant, then went on quickly. "He should have brought it -here. We could have dismantled it in time. But he was afraid it would -kill several thousand people if it went off anywhere near his home, -or in this section of the Colony. He also over-estimated the area -that would be demolished by the blast. When he talked to us he was -two-thirds of the way to the spaceport and if we'd told him to turn -back then and bring the cylinder here the risks would have been too -great. We had to let him go on. I said they can't dismantle it at the -spaceport. But there's a slim chance they can ... because there may -be an Endicott man there or someone who knows enough about Endicott -cylinders to make a hit-or-miss try. With luck, he may just possibly -succeed. But I doubt it." - -"You doubt it? Good God--" - -"I doubt it very much. That's why it's so important for me to get there -as fast as I can. It's my responsibility--and I refuse to share it with -anyone. There are times when a man must face death alone." - -"Who are you?" I asked. - -"A man with much to answer for, the opposite of a good man. I'm Kenneth -H. Hillard, President of the Endicott Combine." - -It stunned me for a moment, because it was as big a bombshell as Nurse -Cherubin had exploded back at the hospital when she'd nodded toward a -slumped caricature of a man and told me exactly who I'd been banging -around. - -But it didn't stun me for long, because even the showdown miracle of -two Mr. Big's taking matters into their own hands when all of the chips -were down--Hillard was also a giant despite his frailness and a better -man than Wendel could ever hope to be--even the wonder and strangeness -of it was of less concern to me at that moment than the danger that -Joan was in. - -I told him then. "I'm going with you," I said. "I've every right. If -I'm cutting in on your yen to face death alone ... that's just too bad. -I'm going with you, or you don't go at all. I pack quite a wallop, and -you may as well know it. Wendel does." - -"Your wife. I see...." - -"I hope to Christ you do--" - -"Get in!" he said sharply. "I may need you. I'm not a well man. My -heart--" - -We climbed in and he tugged at the brakes, releasing them and the big -vehicle lumbered into motion. - -It was already pointed in the right direction, and in less than half -a minute--the second time within fifteen minutes for me--we were deep -in the Big Grayness, with the walls of the aerators looming up on both -sides of us. - -Up above all of the sunlight had dwindled to the vanishing point and -the gigantic artificial cavern was lighted now along its entire length -by cold light lamps embedded in the walls at fifty-foot intervals. The -solid, three-dimensional world outside our minds, whatever segment of -reality we happen to be passing through, never looks quite the same -to any two individuals. It is always, in a sense, a special creation, -colored and altered by the human imagination. - -To me the cold light lamps were chillingly like enormous eyes, keeping -us under constant scrutiny. The scrutiny of giants, standing motionless -in shadows, with just their luminous eye-sockets visible. It was as -if any moment, promoted by some wild whim, the giant forms might take -a violent dislike to us, might raise mace-like metal fists and smash -the tractor, very much as a robot giant had smashed a Wendel agent in -space, with a fiendishly mechanical rancor. - -But to the frail man at my side the aerator walls may have been -chilling in a quite different way, if he was giving the Big Grayness -any thought at all. - -Apparently he wasn't, because when his voice rose above the rumble of -the treads he didn't once mention the aerators or the pale blue light -that was glimmering on the hood of the tractor. - -"It's the beginning of the end--either one way or the other," he -shouted. "Either Wendel will be destroyed by the Colonists themselves -for committing mass murder, or we'll go down under a juggernaut that -can't be stopped. Sometimes you can't smash absolute evil, when it's -backed up by absolute power." - -I raised my voice as high as he'd done, because I wanted to be sure -he'd hear me. "It will always be stopped in the end, I think--if -you have enough moral courage. That's a dynamic in itself, the most -formidable of all weapons. All history confirms it." - -"I wish I could believe that!" he shouted back. "But I'm not so sure. -And you have to fight with reasonably clean hands. Endicott is almost -as guilty as Wendel, except that it would rather be destroyed than -resort to mass murder." - -"That's two-thirds of the right," I shouted back. "That's where the -biggest dividing line comes. Every tyranny in human history that has -resorted to mass murder has gone down into everlasting night and -darkness and very quickly. The few that survived to die a natural death -drew back at that point. The great, utterly ruthless destroyers always -perish." - -We both fell silent then, because there are times when the whole of -the future and everything that human anger and courage can do to -safeguard the future and keep it from destruction seems less important -than coming to grips with an immediate, life-and-death emergency. When -you do that you're going all out to safeguard the future as well, but -you don't think of it in that way. Just getting to the spaceport in -time--Oh, God, yes, in time to be at least a little ahead of time, so -that Hillard would have steady nerves and could dismantle the cylinder -with cautious precision, with no zero-count demoralization to make his -fingers stray from the right wires--just getting there and finishing -the job before the spaceport could become a translucent cone of fire -was a million times as important to me, right at that moment, as the -Wendel-Endicott war. - -A million times as important, Ralphie boy. Don't be ashamed of feeling -that way. If the spaceport blows up, and there's no Joan any more, and -the universe comes to an end for you, you've no sure guarantee that the -actors who will step into your shoes and occupy the center of the stage -will make any better job of it than you've been doing. So it will be a -loss, however you slice it, because the death of two lovers is always -a loss. You fight better when you've been given that best of all head -starts. - - - - -18 - - -We stayed silent until the tractor had rumbled past eight or ten of the -breaks in the Big Grayness. They were shrouded in dusk-light now, with -no kids playing in the front yards of the housing area pre-fabs. Then, -just as we were turning into the clear-away that branched off from the -one I'd taken on leaving the hospital, Hillard shouted: "We've got to -get over to the left! There's an ambulance right up ahead!" - -I heard the siren before I saw it, a banshee-like wail cutting through -the twilight, unnerving in its shrillness. It took a moment or two for -its winking red headlights to come sweeping toward us and if Hillard -had seen them before that it had to mean he had exceptionally sharp -eyesight. - -It careened past without slowing, almost grazing the hood of the -tractor. I thought for an instant, when the banshee wail became shrill -again, that it was still coming from the same ambulance. Then I saw -four more furiously blinking headlights coming out of the dusk ahead of -us, and another ambulance swept past, as swiftly as the first had done, -but missing us by a wider margin. - -A third followed it at a distance of less than a hundred feet, its -siren at such full blast that it no longer sounded like a banshee wail. - -You can be gripped by a dread that's practically breath-stopping and -still manage to shout, if your only other choice is to die inwardly. - -It may have been more of a groan than a shout. My voice sounded ragged -and it almost broke. "Could those ambulances be coming from the -spaceport? Do you think--" - -He cut me off. I probably couldn't have gone on anyway. - -"They could never have gotten out there and back so fast!" he shouted. -"We'll be passing through a section of the Colony in about two more -minutes. It's closer to the hospital, so it's just possible they've -picked up a few victims at the fringe of the blast area who didn't have -our luck." - -"The fallout area must be pretty wide!" I shouted back. "Wherever the -explosion took place--" - -He cut me off again. "No fallout--or very little. What there is is gone -within four or five minutes. Safe to go in after that, for the residue -wouldn't mutate a fruitfly. Colonists don't know that ... closely -guarded Endicott trade secret. Reason we let the Colonists store them. -A fuel cylinder can be converted into a nuclear bomb, all right, but -it will be the cleanest midget bomb ever built. Take fifteen or twenty -of them to blow up even a third of the Colony. But that doesn't mean -that one couldn't blow up the spaceport, or seriously injure hundreds -of people throughout the fringe area. The ground tremor alone could -do that. I told you what it did to this tractor. Has the force of a -small earthquake, except that the tremors are three times as erratic. -They can just shake you up a little, or break every bone in your body. -Depends on where you happen to be standing. It follows a zigzagging -pattern, so it can pass right by you." - -All that didn't come in one shout, but I'm recording it that way -because I didn't interrupt him, and though he must have stopped once -or twice to take a deep breath, and keep a sharp lookout for another -ambulance I wasn't aware of any break in what he was saying. He was -trying his best to make it crystal clear, if only to calm me down a -little. - -Some of it was reassuring, but not what he'd said about the spaceport. -A clean bomb with little or no fallout can leave you just as dead if -you're unfortunate enough to be blown up by it. - -You see things sometimes you can't bring yourself to talk about, even -to close friends when the horror has receded a little and you know it -can't come back in a physical way to torment you. - -So I'm going to draw the veil over most of what we saw when we passed -through about five square miles of the Colony, before the clear-away -broadened out to twice its previous width and we headed out across the -desert toward the spaceport. - -We couldn't be sure, even then, just where the explosion had taken -place, because it was only the fringe area we passed through. It hadn't -been laid waste by the blast and there were only five or six demolished -buildings. If the big square which stretched between the Endicott plant -and the aerators had been a built-up section instead of a square the -property damage might have been just as great and would not have seemed -ruinous. - -But there was one other difference. The Endicott square had been -unpopulated, with just one tractor moving out from the long line of -tractors on the far side. The five miles of Colony we passed through -had been the opposite of unpopulated. Its streets and squares and -playgrounds and vehicle-parking areas had been thronged with people. - -They were still thronged with people but some of them were lying prone, -and others were leaning dazedly against the walls of buildings which -had remained for the most part undamaged and still others, who no -longer seemed to be in a state of shock, were bending over the slumped -bodies of the grievously injured and the dying, doing their best to -console them and ease their pain. - -I'm drawing the veil on the rest of it--the blood and the -screaming--because it was pretty awful, and what possible purpose would -be served if I described it? How could it benefit anyone? It would -serve as a reminder of how cruel life can be at times, how uncertain -and terrible. We know that, don't we? So ... to hell with it ... I say -that in a very reverent way, with awe and respect, and not profanely. -But it's best to consign it where it belongs, to hell, and not let it -paralyze all action and make you give up when there are still sunsets, -and the laughter of children, and the happiness of lovers, and ten -thousand other things that are worth fighting to preserve. - -It took us less than eight minutes to arrive at the spaceport, dusty -from head to foot, with sand choking our lungs and gasping a little -from oxygen shortage, because when there's a stiff wind blowing over -the desert the aerators don't function at peak efficiency. - -I didn't know there was anything wrong until the tractor began to -zigzag a little, about three hundred feet from the massive, steel-mesh -gates of the spaceport. - -He had strength enough left to tug at the brakes and bring the tractor -to a grinding halt before he slumped against me, with a strangled sob -that chilled me to the core of my being. It chilled me and stunned me -and frightened me, because I'd never thought that anything like that -could happen. - -He was frail, all right, and had the look of a man whose health had -been steadily failing ... no doubt partly brought about by the battle -he'd been waging with Wendel. And he'd mentioned something about -heart-trouble-- - -The trouble was, I hadn't taken all that too seriously, because you -never think that someone who has displayed extraordinary energy and -firmness of will is going to collapse right when you need him most. - -I swung about and looked at him, and his pallor gave me an even worse -jolt than the way he'd moaned and sagged heavily against me. - -He gripped my arm and tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. His -lips moved soundlessly for a moment and then--they stopped moving. His -body stopped moving too. All at once, as if a clock had stopped ticking -inside of him, and Time had stopped ticking for him forever just -because his life and the clock were bound up together, intricate parts -of the same mechanism, and if the clock stopped there was no way his -life could be prolonged. - -I knew he was dead before I reached out and touched him. I could tell -by the dull, unseeing glaze which had over-spread his pupils and the -terrible stillness which had come upon him. A stillness and a rigidity -that made it impossible for me to doubt what the alarm bells were -telling me as well. They had started ringing again, but this time it -wasn't so much an alarm they were sounding as a dirge. - -It was impossible for me to doubt, but I still had to make sure, as -he would have wanted me to do, by feeling for a heartbeat that wasn't -there and satisfying myself in other ways. It was an obligation I -couldn't evade and had no intention of evading. - -It took me less than a minute and a half--a time limit I kept firmly in -mind--to fulfill that obligation. Then I descended from the tractor and -headed for the steel-mesh gates of the spaceport on the run. - - - - -19 - - -"Ralph!" she cried, running to meet me as I walked into the big, -steel-walled enclosure where Commander Littlefield and eight or ten or -possibly twelve men in gray skyport-technician uniforms were working -over a long metal cylinder that Death had started working on well ahead -of them. He was the expert and they were just amateurs doing the best -they could to beat the time limit he had set for them. With a grim -chuckle, no doubt, because, as I said once before, Death is a weird-o. - -Joan's arms went around my shoulders and she crushed herself against -me, and kissed me hard on the mouth. Then she let go of me and moved -quickly to one side, so that Commander Littlefield could talk to me -without interference or a moment's delay. She seemed to know without -waiting for me to say a word how important that was. - -One look at Littlefield's white face told me all I really wanted to -know. But I decided that if he could fill in the details for me in -half a minute I could risk setting another time-limit in my mind and -clocking him second by second by second as he talked. - -"A nurse at the hospital got word to us you'd be doing your best to get -back here, Ralph," he said. "The Wendel police have orders to blast you -down on sight, but now that you're here I can protect you--or you can -protect yourself. I've got your papers and insignia. Right now that's -not so urgent as what's happening inside this Endicott fuel cylinder. -It's been triggered to build up to critical mass by a Wendel agent. A -Colonist brought it here and we've been trying to dismantle it. But we -don't know just how to go about it and we don't dare experiment. We've -taken a few _small_ risks, naturally. We've had to. But we're getting -nowhere, and what looks like a small risk could turn out to be a big -one. We don't even know how much time we've got!" - -He spoke almost calmly, without raising his voice, but there was -nothing calm about the way he looked. The time limit I'd set to clock -him by had run out and now it was my turn. I was going to have to ask -him to do something that might seem only a little less terrible to him -than being blown apart by a nuclear explosion. - -But it would have to be done--and fast. - -I clocked myself as I talked, allowing myself about forty seconds. -"Those cylinders build up to critical mass when they've been tampered -with and triggered to explode in about forty-five minutes," I said. -"Don't ask me how I know, because I haven't time to explain. I _do_ -know--you can take my word for it. I knew the cylinder was here, and I -was hoping you'd find a way--" - -I caught myself up. "Never mind that now. Just listen. I don't know -how long it took the Colonist to bring it here or how long you've been -working over it. But it hasn't exploded yet. _So there's still a chance -we can get it out into space before it blows up!_" - -He looked at me as if he thought I'd gone suddenly quite mad. I -finished what I had to say fast, because I knew it would take eight or -ten more minutes for him to recover from his first shock, and issue -orders, and have the cylinder carried on board his big sky ship--his -pride and glory--and for the sky ship to rise from its launching pad -and be blown apart in space. - -He'd have to get all of the crewmen off as well and set the robot -controls and if there were any passengers still on board--I refused to -let myself think about that. - -"It may be too late," I went on. "We may all be as good as dead right -now. But we've got to try. Do you understand? You've got to get that -cylinder on the sky ship, set the controls and send it out into space. -_It must be done at once. Every second counts._" - -He recovered from the shock faster than I'd dared to hope. The grin -that hovered for the barest instant on his lips startled me until I -realized it was a very special kind of grin--the kind of grin only -a man who is about to part with something that means just about as -much to him as his own life would be capable of ... if he had a -non-eradicable streak of wry humor deep in his nature as well. - -"Ralph, I've always looked upon people who put property above human -life as just about the lowest worms that crawl. But for a minute--God -pity me--I almost felt that way. It's just that--it's fifty billion -dollars worth of big, tremendous sky ship and that cylinder is so -small--" - -"It won't seem small if it blows up and takes the spaceport with it," I -said. "It won't seem small at all." - -"I know, Ralph. I said once I was old enough to be your father and I -still think I am. But if you put me across your knee and gave me the -drubbing a dumb six-year old would rate I'd have no right to complain. -I should have thought of it myself." - -"We don't always think of things that stand out like sore thumbs when -we're under tremendous stress," I said. "Don't blame yourself for being -human, Commander." - -"I hope it won't take me much longer than that to finish the job, -Ralph," he said. "I'll do my best. There are only three crewmen on -board and all of the passengers have been cleared." - -He swung about without another word and went striding out of the -enclosure. - -I would have followed him if Joan hadn't picked that moment to come -back into my arms. It held me up for a minute or two. - - * * * * * - -The incandescent burst of flame that makes a big sky ship's ascent into -space seem for an instant almost cataclysmic, as if the sky itself -had been ripped apart in some terrible and incomprehensible way, came -exactly eight minutes, thirty-two seconds later. - -I timed it myself, not mentally this time but with a watch in my hand. -I stood with Joan at my side a hundred feet from the launching pad, -watching the cylinder disappear into the sky. It was the cylinder and -not the big rocket itself that I seemed to see as I stared upward, -as if the sky ship had turned to glass and the deadly thing it was -carrying out into space was beginning to stir and vibrate in a quite -ghastly way, with its contours enlarged to sky-spanning dimensions -under the glass. - -To my inward vision it was bigger than the ship itself and it was hard -to understand how even a huge sky ship could be carrying anything so -enormous and death-freighted when a short while before it had been -discharging passengers in the bright Martian sunlight who had given -no thought to Death ... only what life had in store for them on a new -world. - -My fingers were clenched around the watch and I wasn't even aware that -Commander Littlefield had joined me until he tapped me on the arm. - -"We can see and hear it when it happens--all of it, just as if we were -taking it out into space ourselves. Every tele-communicator on the sky -ship is turned on and tuned to big screen wave length. If there was a -crewman on board he could talk to us and we could talk to him." - -"Thank God there isn't a living man on board," I breathed. - -"Yes," he said, nodding. "Yes, we can be thankful for that. And for -our lives as well. There are four big screens here, but we may as well -watch the one in the port clearance building. It's the largest of the -four--if size makes any difference when about all we'll see when the -cylinder explodes is a blinding flare. We won't see the bulkheads -collapsing, or a robot cyb crumbling, that's for sure. It will happen -too fast." - -"What good will it do us to watch at all?" Joan asked. "I'd rather stay -right here. We'll see the flash, won't we?" - -"You'll see it, all right," Littlefield said, grimly. "It will look -like an exploding star for about ten seconds. My sky ship--an exploding -star. I never thought it would ever come to that." - -He started to turn away, thinking, no doubt, that I'd fallen in with -Joan's idea of passing up a view of it on the screen. But I hadn't at -all and when he started walking toward the port clearance building I -was right at his side. So was Joan, because she was that kind of a -wife. There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask him--questions of -the utmost urgency, such as how much progress he'd made in finding out -who had shot the dart at me from high up on the spiral and just what -news he'd received from the hospital, when Nurse Cherubin had informed -him I was trying to get back to the spaceport, that went beyond that -bare statement--I was sure she'd briefed him in detail--and ... well, -a lot of questions. But this hardly seemed the right time to ask him, -because his inner torment was too great. - -I could sympathize and understand, because I knew what a hell he was -passing through. Nothing could prevent the destruction of his sky ship, -but he had to see it with his own eyes, no matter how much agony it -caused him. - -He didn't have to do any explaining to the Port Clearance men, because -they'd either assumed he'd pick out their screen well in advance of our -arrival or their own curiosity had proved overmastering. - -The screen was lighted and the sound tracks whirring when we walked -into the projection room. It was just like walking into the sky ship's -chart room and staring across it at the four robot giants who had -followed both emergency instructions in space and the routine kind and -were doing their best to perform a man's job now. A mechanical best, -which meant, of course, that they had no way of knowing how close they -were to annihilation. They would be blown apart without pain and had -nothing to lose that a man would have valued. But they were not men, -and who can be sure that mechanical brains and the thought processes -which take place in them are not faintly tinged with emotional -coloration? - -Probably not ... for it would have been something that laboratory -tests have never succeeded in establishing. A cybernetic brain can -become fatigued, yes--but it is not really a human fatigue. It is on -the metal-fatigue level. But knowing all that, a chill would have gone -through me if the robots had been able to talk to us. - -The image on the screen was three-dimensional, and in full color and -the illusion that we were standing right in the sky ship's chart room -was so startling that Joan whispered: "I wish we'd stayed outside. It's -terrifying. Almost as if ... we could be blown up ourselves when the -blast comes." - -"No danger of that," I said, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "You'd -better sit down." - -There were ten hollow-tubed metal chairs in the room, but all except -one were occupied. I reached out and drew it toward her, but she shook -her head. "No, I'll stand, Ralph. I may want to leave in a minute." - -One of the port clearance lads got up and offered Commander Littlefield -his chair, assuming I'd take the one that Joan had refused. But we were -both of one mind about standing. Only Littlefield sat down, as if the -burden of torment which rested upon him had added ten years to his age. - -No sound at all came from the screen for a full minute. Then a scream -broke the stillness. It was so totally unexpected, so horrifying, that -two of the port clearance men leapt to their feet, sending their chairs -spinning backwards. Commander Littlefield was on his feet too, but he -hadn't leapt up. He'd arisen jerkily, his hands pressed to his temples, -as if to shut out the sound or keep his head from bursting. - -We saw her then. She had come into the chart room and was staring -directly at us, and just knowing she could see us as clearly as we -could see her made her plight seem even more terrible. To me, at least, -because it wasn't hard to imagine what was passing through her mind. - -_I'm alone on the ship ... just as I feared. They've sent me out alone -into space. If Commander Littlefield isn't on board ... if he's in that -room watching me with all those other men ... what else can it mean?_ - -She'd be ten times as sure of it if she'd been inside the port -clearance projection room and knew what it looked like, and I was -almost certain she had, because there was an unmistakable look of -recognition in her eyes, and the Port Clearance building was where they -took passengers for questioning. - - - - -20 - - -She looked as she always had, with her hair piled up high on her head -and the full lips drowsily sensuous, and her breasts thrusting firmly -upward against the tight-clinging fabric that ensheathed them just -below the curve of her throat, and the soft whiteness of her upper -bosom. - -Only her eyes had changed. Stark terror looked out of them and suddenly -as she stared at us she pressed one hand to her throat and swayed back -against the bulkhead on the right side of the doorway. It brought -her up short. But I was sure that if it hadn't she'd have gone right -on retreating backwards until she either started screaming again or -crumpled to the floor in a dead faint. - -She neither screamed again nor fainted, for Commander Littlefield gave -her no time to succumb to utter panic. But if his voice hadn't rung out -as sharply as it did--at the precise moment that it did--the outcome -might have been quite different. - -"Why did you return to the ship?" he shouted. "Why did you do such a -reckless thing? Was it because we suspected you? Was it because you -knew we were about to place you under arrest? Answer me! Your life may -depend on it." - -"Yes ... I went back," she said. "But only to get ... something I -didn't want you to find. I was pretty sure I'd hidden it where you'd -never think of searching, but when you started suspecting me--" - -"I see. A damaging piece of evidence? Something of the sort?" - -She nodded. "Yes ... yes ... a paper. It would have proven my guilt." - -"You admit your guilt then? We can still save you, but not if you go on -lying, clinging to the story you told us. Every part of that is false." - -"No, no!" She almost screamed the words. "Most of what I told you was -true. My brother did work for Wendel and ... I didn't know that he had -died. I just found that out a few hours ago. I came to Mars to help -him, to save him if I could. I was a Wendel agent, but only because I -had no choice. They threatened to kill my brother ... used that as a -weapon to make me spy for them and do--uglier things." - -Her voice rose pleadingly. "Bring the ship back. Don't send me out -alone into space. You can't be that cruel--" - -"We can't bring the ship back. But we can save you. Just tell the -truth. Wendel knew that the Board was sending someone to Mars to -investigate the combine, a man who couldn't be bribed to shut his eyes -to what he was sure to see here. You had instructions to kill that man -before he could set foot on Mars. Wendel wanted him killed because they -knew the Board was backing him to the hilt and he had been given enough -authority to make him the most dangerous kind of adversary. Wendel also -knew that you were the most resourceful and intelligent agent in their -employ. - -"You proved that, to my satisfaction, when you did what no one has -ever done before--outwitted a Mars' rocket security alert system -by concealing yourself in a cybernetic robot. I'm sure it didn't -take Wendel long to discover that you are as intelligent as you are -beautiful--both valuable assets in a secret agent. Priceless assets. -The time is very short. Am I right so far?" - -"Yes ... it's all true. Please ... help me!" - -"You tried to kill, without success, the man the Board was sending to -Mars to investigate and crack down on both Wendel and Endicott. You -tried to kill him three times." - -"No, only once. I'm telling you the truth. I didn't fire that dart. -There were other Wendel agents on board. One tried to blow up the ship. -And there were other Wendel agents in New Chicago, with instructions to -assassinate him if they could." - -"I see. But you did try to kill him in New Chicago. Why did you come to -Mars, if you didn't intend to try again?" - -"I told you. I didn't lie when I said I came to save my brother, that I -wanted to see Wendel exposed ... forced to face criminal charges. When -I tried to stab him in the New Chicago Underground and failed ... I -realized what Wendel had done to me, what a vicious person I'd become. -I decided I couldn't go on being that kind of person any longer, not -even to save my brother. I took the only other way I could think of -to keep Wendel from killing my brother. I _am_ a resourceful woman, I -_am_ intelligent ... why should I deny it? I might have made the Wendel -Combine think twice about killing him. But now my brother's dead and--" - -Her shoulders sagged and a look of torment came into her eyes. - -"All right. One thing more. When that Wendel agent surprised you in the -chart room and the man you'd tried to kill saved you ... why were you -so frightened? Why did the agent go into such a rage? You must have -thought he intended to kill you. And if you were both Wendel agents--" - -"I wasn't supposed to be on the ship. He knew it, and must have been -pretty sure I'd turned traitor. He knew all about my brother. There -wasn't much he didn't know about me, because he was a very high-placed -agent. He knew I had every reason to hate Wendel. And I think he was -also the kind of man who turns sadistic when he has a woman completely -at his mercy." - -She saw me then. I could tell by the way her eyes widened and then -fastened on me, staring straight past Littlefield as if he was no -longer her only accuser. - -But she was mistaken if she thought I had any desire to accuse her. -I was furious with Littlefield, sickened by his relentless attack on -her and if I hadn't been stunned for a moment, caught up in a kind -of hypnotic spell by the suddenness of that attack and the startling -candor she'd displayed in replying to it I'd have interfered sooner. - -What she'd told him was evidence. It would help me to smash Wendel in -a legal way, which is always the best way, when backed up as it would -have to be by armed, completely lawful authority. All I'd have to do -would be to put what she'd just said into one package and what Wendel -agents had done to an Endicott fuel cylinder in a densely populated -section of the Colony in another and bring the two packages together -and there would take place, on Earth and on Mars, the kind of explosion -that would blow the Wendel Combine into the rubbish bin of history. The -Wendel-Endicott war would be over, and the Colonists would have a new -birth of freedom. - -A death-bed confession has the strongest kind of legal validity and -when a woman thinks she has been sent out into space on an unmanned -rocket perhaps to die ... she is not likely to lie about anything. -An unforeseeable accident--a blind fluke of circumstance--had dealt -Littlefield a winning hand and he had taken full advantage of it. He -had done it to help me, God pity him ... for I hated him for it. - -Every question he'd asked her and every reply she'd taken a minute or -two to make explicit had cut down her chances of staying on this side -of eternity. - -She was looking straight at me. - -"Ralph!" she said. "I don't want to die alone in space! What are they -trying to do to me?" - -It was as much as I could take. - -I grabbed Littlefield by the shoulders and swung him about and -demanded. "You said you could save her. How? Were you lying? If you -were ... I'll kill you." - -"Let go of me, Ralph," he said. "A chance like that would never come -again. I had to risk it." - -"All right--you've risked it. Now ... can you save her? That's all I -want to know. Nothing else matters." - -"Yes ... I think so. If the cylinder doesn't blow up for three or four -more minutes. If she puts on a vacuum suit and goes out into space and -we're able to pick her up tomorrow or the next day--" - -"Then for God's sake tell her. You'll have to tell her about the -cylinder, or she won't know how great the danger is. She may take her -time about it." - -"All right," he said. "I'll take care of it." - -He was talking to her in the big screen when Joan and I walked out of -the port clearance building. - -We walked out because, if the explosion had come while he was talking, -just watching it would have killed me. No worse death can come to a -man than the one that can take place inwardly, for it can shrivel and -blacken his soul and leave him a burnt-out shell of a man until he dies -physically. And Joan could sense that, and wanted to get me out of -there as quickly as possible. - -The explosion came a full ten minutes later, which meant that even -Hillard hadn't known how variable the critical mass buildup could be in -at least a few of the Endicott cylinders. - -We were standing in the open, two hundred feet from the nearest rocket -launching pad, when we saw it--Littlefield's exploding star high up in -the night sky. The brightness lasted less than ten seconds. - - - - -21 - - -You can be holding high cards, practically unbeatable, in the final -deal of a poker game and still not be sure of winning. You have to call -your opponent's hand before he gets the idea that just by drawing out -a gun and shooting you dead he can gather up all the chips, and cash -them in by threatening further violence. Assuming, of course, that he's -capable of that kind of violence and is in all respects the opposite of -an honest gambler. - -You can be even less sure of winning when it isn't a game of cards -you're on the point of winning, but a duel to the death with a ruthless -power combine and time is running out on you. - -I had all the evidence I needed now to smash the Wendel Combine. But it -had to be built up by legal experts, and stripped down as well, until -the documentation had the sinewy, blockbusting persuasiveness of a -champion's punch. - -It would have to stir popular fury on Earth on a very wide scale, -be made so convincing that no one could possibly mistake it for a -trumped-up shakedown in another grab for power. And that would take -time--two or three weeks, at least. - -And right at the moment Wendel was almost certainly out of the hospital -and back in the Wendel plant, getting ready to close in on the skyport -with his army of goons. - -The problem that confronted me can be summarized in just one sentence. -I had to get into my uniform, pin the silver bird into place and -complete just two visits, or Wendel would dig my grave wide and deep. - -Not just my own grave, of course--but when you fight to stay alive you -remember all of the things you want to protect and stay alive for. -There are men, I suppose, who are chiefly concerned with survival on a -more primitive plane, but I think I can honestly say I've never been -that kind of man. - -My first visit was going to be to one hell of a live man--Joseph -Sherwood. Sherwood had undisputed custody, by authority of the Board, -of every nuclear weapon in the Colony with enough large-scale -destructive potential to make open defiance of that authority an -extremely risky undertaking. - -I was now his superior in rank, but I had no intention of making -changes in his command or questioning the wisdom of the decisions he -was more than qualified to make. The measures he had taken to protect -the Colony I regarded as absolutely correct and he knew far more -about nuclear armaments than I did. There were limits to what those -measures could accomplish, because a large-scale thermonuclear weapon -can destroy thousands of innocent victims, and the Wendel Combine knew -precisely how far it could go without bringing down the thunder. - -All I had to do was convince Wendel that it had now gone too far and -that the thunder was very close. Basically it would be quite a simple -undertaking. I would simply have to walk into the Wendel plant and talk -to him in a calm way, at the risk of being blown apart. - -I was standing before a full-length mirror in a small, windowless room -which the skyport officials had assured me wasn't wired for sound. -It sure had privacy. Not that I'd need it while I was putting on my -uniform, because I'd be wearing it when I emerged and they would all -see the silver bird. And Joan was the only woman in the building ... -which made privacy a little absurd on more than one count. - -It was just that--well, when you stand before a mirror and pin that -kind of insignia on a quite ordinary, regulation-fit uniform it does -something to the wearer which changes the way he looks in a quite -startling way. - -I guess I just didn't want anyone to see me observing the change -in a mirror and grin, which would have forced me to do something I -just hadn't time for--take a sock at him. I suppose there's a little -garden-variety vanity in me--show me a man who claims he hasn't a trace -of it in his nature and I'll show you a first-class liar--but right at -the moment I wouldn't have been lying if I'd said that nothing could -have been further from my mind than preening myself on the way I looked. - -But it was just as well I had privacy, because I had to stand before -the mirror for three full minutes to get accustomed to the change, and -feel relaxed and casual about it. - -I'd forgotten to tell Commander Littlefield I'd be needing a tractor, -warmed up and ready to roll, and that the place to find it waiting for -me would be right outside the gate. The one I'd left there with a dead -man sitting in it didn't have quite the trim, speedy look of three or -four I'd noticed standing about the skyport and if he could get me a -lighter one so much the better. - -Joan was taking care of it for me. She came back just as I was turning -from the mirror, with the silver bird gleaming on my right shoulder. -She'd seen me wearing it before, of course, so she wasn't startled. But -the tall, stoop-shouldered man with graying temples who had followed -her into the room had enough startlement in his eyes to have made her a -present of half of it and still made the grade in that respect. - -He kept staring at the silver bird in tight-lipped silence until I -darted a questioning glance at Joan and he seemed to realize he was -putting a strain on my patience. - -"My name's John Lynton," he said, hesitantly. "Commander Littlefield -told me you'll be needing a tractor. I have one, and I'll be glad to -drive you, sir. I brought the Endicott fuel cylinder to the skyport, -so I naturally feel pretty strongly about everything that's happened. -There's just one thing I'd like to see happen to Wendel. But I guess I -don't have to spell it out for you, sir." - -I stared at him in amazement. I'd taken it for granted that the -Colonist who had delivered the cylinder was no longer at the skyport, -because no one had pointed him out to me, and I'd been under too much -of a strain to question Littlefield about it. - -"Well ... that takes care of one thing that puzzled me," I said. "I -couldn't understand why you'd just deliver the cylinder and clear out. -But people here seem to feel they're privileged to do pretty much as -they please at times. So it didn't puzzle me too much." - -"I was in the Administration Building, talking to a sky ship officer, -when you were in the shed, sir," he explained. "But I saw you come into -the projection room--" - -"All right," I said. "We haven't time to discuss it and it's not -important anyway. I know how to drive a tractor, but I'm not an expert -at it. If you've got your own tractor you'll know what to do if it -breaks down. That's an advantage I'd be a fool to pass up. But if -you're going with me, you may as well know we'll be in danger the -instant we pass through the gate. The Wendel agents have orders to -blast me down on sight." - -I shouldn't have said that, for it made Joan bite down hard on her -underlip and say in a kind of talking-to-herself whisper, "An armed -escort would cut down the danger. Littlefield could--" - -I shook my head. "We'd be certain to be stopped then and an open clash -with Wendel agents in the streets of the Colony would wrap it up--but -good. There's no way of packaging it that would please Wendel more." - -The instant Lynton realized, just from the way I was looking at Joan, -that I wanted to be alone with her he said: "I'd better check over the -tractor once more. I'll drive it through the gate, draw in to the side -of the clear-away and keep a sharp eye on the incoming traffic--if any. -I'll keep the motor running, sir." - -The instant the door closed behind him Joan was in my arms. For the -most part all we did was embrace without saying a word, which is one -way of saying as much as you possibly can in the space of half a minute. - -I was a little afraid that Joan would break down and burst into tears, -which would have spoiled everything. I could see the tears trembling -on the fringes of her eyelids, and decided right then and there that -she was one hell of a precious woman. And when you're parting with -something very precious you can break your heart in two if you let -yourself do too much thinking. - -So I just kissed her very firmly on the mouth for the tenth time, swung -about and walked out of that small, windowless room without looking -back to see if she was still doing her best to keep the tears from -flowing. - -In the ambulance on the way to the hospital I'd seen more of the Colony -than I could have covered on foot in half a day. Jogging through the -streets again with Lynton doing the driving I could have taken in even -more of it in a sight-seeing way. I could have--but I didn't. - -I saw no reason to make myself conspicuous, and somehow removing -the insignia from my shoulder so soon after I'd pinned it on would -have gone against the grain. And it wasn't just my uniform or the -silver bird which would have made me a sitting duck to a Wendel agent -stationed anywhere along the way with my description dear and sharp in -his mind. It was a safe bet we'd pass at least a dozen of the Combine's -goons, strutting about in their private police uniforms, so I took care -to remain in a seated position in the back of the tractor, with my head -well below sight-seeing level. - -This time I didn't look, wonder or black out at intervals. I kept a -tight grip on my nerves and refused to even let myself think what an -impasse I'd be facing if my talk with Arms Custodian Sherwood didn't -bring the kind of results I was counting on. - -It's hard to maintain just one rigid mental stance when you're keeping -a great many hard-to-control emotions bottled up in your mind with a -clamped-down safety valve. But I didn't have to maintain the stance -for long, because twenty minutes after we left the skyport the tractor -rumbled to a halt before a massive, fortress-like building which stood -a considerable distance from the buildings on both sides of it and -was protected in its isolation by steel walls, pacing guards and a -well-guarded stockpile of thermonuclear weapons. - -No Wendel agent would have risked blasting away at me within three -miles of that stronghold--unless he was tired of living and didn't want -to see another Martian sunrise. It made me feel secure enough to stand -up and descend from the tractor without making a production out of it, -as if I was two-thirds convinced I'd be blown apart before I could -advance twenty feet. - -I neither hurried nor wasted time, just stood calmly by the tractor -until I was satisfied no one who had seen us drive up--I was quite sure -we were under long-range binocular scrutiny--would come striding out -of the forest to question us at gunpoint. Then I nodded to Lynton, and -walked straight toward the big gray building. I'd told him not to move -from his seat until I came out, so there was no need to caution him -further. - -I can't remember at exactly what point in my approach to the -high-walled gate the silver bird became a thunder-bird, or exactly how -each of the three guards looked when they first caught sight of it. - -I was too startled just by the way the oldest of the three, who must -have been a tow-headed twelve-year-old when the first wearer of the -insignia walked the streets of the Colony, stared at me, snapped to -attention and grounded the heavy weapon he'd been holding slantwise -across his chest with a thud. The other two guards quickly followed -suit. Quite possibly they had merely taken their cue from him and -didn't want to risk an official reprimand. But they certainly put on a -convincing performance, as if what they feared most was a full-dress -court martial. If I'd dropped down out of the sky in a golden chariot -and was Apollo, maybe, or the Aztec Sun God, I couldn't have been -accorded more deference. - -A moment later the high steel gate opened and shut with a clang and I -was on the inside, with more guards on both sides of me. I'd paused -a moment, of course, to explain to the elderly guard who had first -saluted me, just why I was there and whom I wanted to see. - -I had an escort of six guards as I walked to the end of the -first-floor corridor, and ascended a short flight of stairs and they -continued to escort all the way to the door of Sherwood's office. - -Some men can be jolted almost speechless by an unexpected visit and -recover their composure so rapidly they seem to have retained it from -the beginning. It was that way with Sherwood. He was a big man in his -early forties, with close-cropped reddish hair and handsome features. - -He was sparing of words, but everything he told me was in direct answer -to my questions and a man who can confine himself to just giving you -the information you need without wasting words is likely to be the kind -of man you can depend on in an emergency. - -His final answer was the clincher. It came at the end of a -fifteen-minute conversation. - -"We can do it if we've no other choice," he said. - -"All right," I said. "I want you to tell Wendel exactly what you've -just told me, on a two-way televisual hookup. I'll be at the Wendel -plant in fifteen minutes, and I'm sure I can persuade him to talk to -you on the screen, right after I've laid it on the line for him. - -"If," I added "--and it's a very big _if_--I can get in to see him -without ending up dead. His goons have orders to blast me down on -sight." - -He looked at me steadily for a moment, with a concerned tightening of -his lips. Then he leaned back and some of the strain left his face. - -"Have any of his goons ever seen you with that insignia on your -shoulder?" he asked. - -It was a good question and it confirmed the opinion I'd formed of him. - -"No, they haven't," I said. "But it doesn't alter the possibility -I'll be blasted down before I can get in to see Wendel. Remember--the -Wendel Combine has taken the big gamble and is waging an undeclared, -but all out war. This insignia makes me Target Number One. If I took -it off before entering the plant his goons would probably recognize -me anyway--too quickly for me to save myself by shouting at them and -trying to make them see that Wendel would want them to withhold their -fire. I may not have a chance to do any explaining, because they may -recognize me just from the description that's been furnished them." - -Sherwood nodded. "Yes ... it would be foolish to deny you won't be -exposing yourself to danger. And you'll have to be wearing the insignia -when you confront Wendel. But I've a feeling that Wendel's goons -will take you straight to him. I could be mistaken, of course. But -somehow I can't picture them firing pointblank at Target Number One -without prior authorization. They'd be sticking out their necks with a -vengeance, because their instructions to blast you on sight were issued -before you pinned that bird on your shoulder." - -"I hope you're right," I said. "But goons are funny people." - -"I'll be right here at my desk when the screen lights up," he said. -"Don't worry too much. I'll handle my end of it with very careful -timing...." - - * * * * * - -Fifteen minutes later my tractor rumbled to a halt for the second time, -directly in front of the Wendel plant. - -Like the Endicott plant, it faced a big square and there were no -pedestrians in sight on the side we parked on. - -"This time I'm going with you," Lynton said, very firmly. - -So he was going with me! All right, it was an obligation I owed him, -and I couldn't pull rank on him, because he was a civilian and it -wouldn't have done the least bit of good. Moreover, he'd gotten over -being dazzled by the silver bird, if it had ever really dazzled him, -which I doubted. He was a too tough-fibered, independent, non-authority -conscious kind of guy. You find them in every rugged, pioneering -society--guys who will stand up in a public meeting and tell a -governmental big shot that the speech he's just delivered has a phony -ring to it and he'd be well advised to try again. - -I descended from the tractor a little more cautiously this time, -keeping my eye on the ground-floor windows of the plant and wondering -how long it would take me to cross from the car to the building's wide -main entrance and if the steel-mesh blinds on the windows might not be -a cover-up for nuclear weapons pointed straight in our direction. - -But actually, despite the uneasiness which we both felt, we crossed -from the tractor to the plant without hurrying and with our shoulders -held straight. - -There were two guards in Wendel private police uniforms with nuclear -hand-guns clamped to their hips standing just inside the entrance and -the instant we came into view their hands darted to the holstered -weapons and their eyes took on a steely glint. - -Then--both guards did a swift double take. They didn't stiffen to -attention the way the guards at the gate of the nuclear fortress had -done, but something happened to their faces which made them seem to be -wearing frozen masks. Only their eyes remained alive, alert, the steely -glint replaced by a look of stunned incredulity. - -I spoke sharply, without giving them time to reach a decision on their -own initiative which might have had tragic consequences, for you can -never tell what desperate, completely unjustified measures a badly -jolted man will take it into his head to resort to. - -"I'm here to see Wendel," I said. "Nobody else will do. I guess I don't -have to tell you that this is an order. You'd be very foolish not to -unbar that gate, for I have the authority to take you into custody if -you prevent me from entering the plant. You may be just guards, but -that will not prevent the Colonization Board from imprisoning you on a -treason charge." - -Their eyes never left the insignia while they were swinging open the -big, iron-barred entrance gate for me. It was set well back from the -street, with enough walled-in space in front of it to accommodate a -dozen bloody corpses. I had an idea they would have tried to make use -of it in that way, if I'd attempted to force my way past them with an -armed escort and hadn't been wearing the silver bird. - -The strain and uncertainty eased a little once we were fairly sure we -wouldn't be blasted down without warning. It didn't take long for that -near-assurance to harden into a conviction, for what happened after the -big gate clanged shut behind us was almost a repeat of what had taken -place in the nuclear fortress. - -More armed Wendel police guards fell into step on both sides of us, -with much the same look on their faces the two at the entrance had worn -ten seconds after their eyes had rested on the silver bird. - -Just one small incident took place which made it a little unlike the -reception which had been accorded me when I'd asked to see Sherwood. We -were held up at the end of a branching corridor while one of the guards -went into a small, blank-walled room and buzzed Wendel on an interplant -communicator, announcing our arrival. - -We didn't know that until later, because he was careful to shut the -door of the room before he spoke into the communicator. When he came -out there was a hardness around his eyes, a look of grim satisfaction -that should have warned me that we were in danger. But you don't always -attach as much weight as you should to a quick change of expression on -the face of a man whose job requires him to resort to brutal violence -two or three times a week. The face of such a man can harden just from -habit. - -Because it was the kind of mistake it was easy to make and the other -guards were keeping their hostility under wraps we didn't know or even -suspect that we were walking straight into a trap until we were almost -at the door of Wendel's office on the second floor of the plant. - -If you're the head of a big power combine, and shrewd, as Wendel -unquestionably was, and there's a threat to your survival coming -straight toward you along an echoing corridor and you want to be sure -in advance he'll be a broken man when you talk with him in strict -privacy, with the chips scattered widely and the game almost at an -end--you'll either take care of it yourself, or assign just one man you -can trust to do the job for you. - -Not a dozen men--or half a dozen--but just one. It's more efficient -that way, more certain, the right way to go about it. - -I had no way of knowing that, of course, no way of looking through a -wall at Wendel standing motionless or possibly seated in a chair, his -eyes gleaming triumphantly, as we approached the door of his office, -with just one guard walking a few paces behind us. - -Except that--deep in my mind the alarm bells were ringing again. They -were ringing, all right, but very, very faintly and I don't know to -this day what made me turn my head and look behind me just as he was -whipping out the heavy metal thong. - -I caught only the barest glimpse of the thong gleaming in the corridor -light. But even if he'd kept it concealed for a few seconds longer his -face would have given him away. His eyes were blazing with a savage -enmity, and he started for me the instant he realized that I had been -forewarned. - -I gripped Lynton by the arm and fell back against the wall, tugging -him around so that he was far enough behind me to give me a chance to -grapple with Hard Eyes head-on, with complete freedom of movement. - -He made the mistake of coming at me too fast. It might not have been a -mistake if he hadn't been so reckless with the thong, trying to lash me -across the chest with it before he was sure of his balance. The sheer -weight of the weapon carried him forward, straight past me, and it went -swishing through the air without hitting anything. - -I made a grab for his wrist and before he could recover his balance I -was twisting it relentlessly and slamming my fist against the side of -his head. He sank to his knees and I kept right on hammering away at -him, hitting him first on the right temple and then on the left and not -even stopping to take the thong away from him. - -There was no need for me to relieve him of the thong, for he flattened -out on the floor still holding on to it and passed out cold. It seemed -only reasonable and just to let him keep it as a souvenir. - -I was out of breath and feeling a little dizzy, because when you hit -anyone as hard as I'd hit Hard Eyes, not caring much whether I killed -him or not, it takes a minute or two to recover. I still hadn't quite -gotten my breath back when the door of Wendel's office slammed open and -Wendel himself stood there, staring down at the guard with a look of -consternation on his face. - -I became a little alarmed when I saw that Lynton had moved out from -the wall and was making straight for him with his arm drawn back. -Hell--that's an understatement. I became very much alarmed, because the -one thing I didn't want was to have Wendel belted unconscious and laid -out on the floor at the guard's side before I could have a talk with -him. - -I got between them just in time, and I grabbed Wendel by the shoulders -and hurled him back into his office and when he staggered a little and -almost fell I grabbed hold of him for the second time, and slammed him -down in the chair in front of his big, metal-topped desk. - -He looked up at me for a moment with a killing rage in his eyes, but -I didn't give him a chance to get his breath back. For the barest -instant, though, if he had been quick enough, he might have succeeded -in getting to his feet and lashing out at me, for I saw something on -the opposite side of the room that seemed almost too good to be true, -and I took three full seconds out to stare at it. - -It was a big tele-communicator screen--just the kind of screen I had -been sure I'd find somewhere in the plant, but hardly in Wendel's -private office. The fact that Sherwood had one in his office was not -quite so surprising, for Sherwood's custodianship of thermonuclear -weapons had made him more communication-conscious. - -I'd counted on being able to persuade Wendel to accompany me to -wherever the plant's screen happened to be located, after I'd had a -serious talk with him. But since he hadn't wanted me to have a talk -with him until he'd done his best to get me killed or crippled for -life, and I would now have to keep him boxed up in his office by force -while we conducted the talk, having the screen so accessible was one -hell of a lucky break. - -"Shut the door," I told Lynton. "And lock it." - -I waited until Lynton had complied, my hands on Wendel's shoulders -with so fierce a clamp-hold that he gave up trying to rise. - -"You'll never get out of here alive!" he choked. "If you think--" - -"Don't press your luck, Wendel," I said, warningly. "I might be tempted -to break your neck." - -"That insignia you're wearing doesn't mean a thing now, Graham. Don't -you understand? You couldn't command a fly to crawl over a bread crumb. -The Wendel Combine is taking over the Colony." - -"Not a fly, Wendel," I said. "The Wendel Combine. A big boa -constrictor has nothing in common with a fly and I'm not interested -in bread crumbs. And this will surprise you. _You're_ going to do -the commanding. You're going to command the boa constrictor to start -disgorging--every kill it's ever swallowed. It's going to flatten -itself out until it's just a mass of cold mottled skin, which the Board -will know how to deal with." - -"Who's going to make me?" - -"I am," I said. "You have just ten minutes to make up your mind. You -either turn over all of the Combine's nuclear weapons to the Board, -break the back of the Wendel police force by arresting all of its -officers and placing yourself under house arrest and order every Wendel -employee to cooperate with the Board or--Joseph Sherwood will vaporize -the plant with a thermonuclear bomb. The rocket will be guided by -remote control and will hover directly above the plant until the bomb -has been dropped. Only the plant will be destroyed. There will be no -zone of spreading radio-active contamination." - -All of the color drained from Wendel's face, leaving it ashen. "You -must be mad!" he gasped. "You'd die too." - -"I'm aware of that," I said. "We'll all be vaporized together. But it -isn't too bad a way to die, Wendel. You feel no pain, never know--" - -"Do you expect me to take that threat seriously?" he breathed. - -"I'm afraid I do," I said. I gestured toward the tele-communicator. -"Sherwood will tell you how serious it is. He's waiting to talk to you. -Suppose we turn that screen on and listen to what he has to say. I'm -sure you know how to get the right wave-length. The Wendel spy network -would hardly fail to keep you informed when Sherwood changes the code -frequencies." - -"You said ten minutes," Wendel was breathing harshly now and the veins -on his forehead were thick blue cords. "You'd have to let Sherwood -know when to drop the bomb. You haven't been in communication with -him since you arrived here. Suppose I refuse to dial? That's a very -intricate, highly specialized communicator. You couldn't operate it." - -That made me change my mind about letting him do the dialing. I -was pretty sure I'd experience no difficulty in getting in contact -with Sherwood and I didn't want to give Wendel a chance to make the -communicator even more specialized by ripping put some of the wiring. - -I turned to Lynton and indicated by tapping Wendel forcibly on the -shoulder that I was about to relinquish my hold on the Combine's -difficult president, and would he kindly take my place behind the chair. - -"Don't let him move," I cautioned, when we'd changed places. "Keep a -tight grip on his shoulders." - -"Don't worry," Lynton said. "If he moves an inch I'll do what you said -might not be a bad idea--break his neck." - -It didn't take me long to discover that Wendel had lied about the -communicator, which meant, of course, that he had been hoping I'd give -him a chance to do a quick job of sabotage on the wiring. - -It was just a run-of-the-mill, two-way televisual communicator, with -nothing specialized about it. - -There was a humming sound for a few seconds right after I'd finished -dialing and it gave me a chance to scrutinize Wendel's face to see how -he was taking it. - -He was terrified, all right. But his lips were still set in defiant -lines and I was sure that if he could have gotten a grip on my throat -right at that moment getting his fingers unlocked wouldn't have been -easy. - -I thought that when Sherwood's image appeared on the screen there would -be just one minute of hard-to-live-through uncertainty--that he'd back -up what I'd told Wendel with his hand on the rocket release button and -look straight at me, as if awaiting a signal I had no intention of -giving. - -But I suddenly realized I didn't know just how it was going to be. -Would Wendel stay defiant right up to the end, would he defeat me -through sheer stubbornness, even though he was mortally terrified? - -But there was one thing I did know. For the first time, as I waited -for Sherwood's image to appear on the screen, I knew with absolute -certainty, beyond any possibility of doubt, that I could never go -through with it. - -The rocket had to be prepared and ready--the nuclear deterrent had to -be a reality--or I could never have carried the bluff through with the -kind of confidence that just the knowledge that you're holding the -highest cards in the deck can give you. - -I had to feel that I _just might give the signal_. - -But vaporizing the plant would have cost the lives of thirty thousand -people and not more than a fourth of them were vicious criminals. I -just couldn't see myself ordering a nuclear bomb to be dropped on more -than twenty thousand completely innocent Wendel plant engineers and -laboratory technicians. - -Perhaps I shouldn't have felt that way, because if the Wendel Combine -took over the Colony three or four times that number of innocent people -would perish, or sink into degradation and become completely enslaved. -But I did feel that way and--well, I wouldn't have to live with what -I'd done, because I'd be killed by the blast. But I didn't want that on -my conscience even as a dead man. - -I couldn't go through with it, but had I ever really intended to? It -didn't mean I couldn't win, didn't change what I'd come to do. If -I could carry my bluff through without flinching, right up to the -zero-count instant, there was a very good chance that Wendel would -crack. A very good chance still. - -I had the highest cards in the deck and was only handicapped in one -way. If the zero-count instant came and Wendel didn't crack I couldn't -play them. - -I've never really believed in miracles. But if you're holding what -you think are the highest cards, and something happens to your hand -you never dreamed could happen--if you look and see you've got a card -that's even higher, just slipped in between the others as a gift ... -well, that's pretty close to a miracle, isn't it? - -I thought when Sherwood's image appeared on the screen he'd be sitting -alone behind his desk, with his thumb on the rocket-release button. -But he wasn't alone and when I saw who was with him I almost stopped -breathing.... - -Joan was with him and she was looking straight at me out of the screen. - -"Don't do it, Ralph!" she pleaded. "Oh, God, no--" - -Then I saw that she was staring past me and without turning I knew that -she was appealing to Wendel with the same look of pleading desperation -in her eyes. "If he gives the signal his command will be obeyed. And -he'll do it unless you stop him! When you've lived with a man in the -intimacy of marriage--yes, that's important and I have to say it--you -know him better than anyone else. You know what he's capable of. He'll -give the signal unless you do as he says, because the insignia he's -wearing gives him no choice. If you don't stop him now ... _you'll die -with him_!" - -I turned then and stared straight at Wendel. I'd never seen a man sag -before in quite the way he did. All of the life seemed to go out of his -eyes. His defiance gave way to a look of utter hopelessness, of abject -surrender, and he sank so low in his chair that he seemed on the verge -of slumping to the floor, despite Lynton's grip on his shoulders. - -His voice, when he spoke, scarcely rose above a whisper. "All right, -Graham," he said. "You win." - -As I turned back to the screen and saw the look of overwhelming relief -and gratefulness in Joan's eyes I couldn't help wondering how close she -had been to being right. Had the insignia really given me any choice? -If Wendel had stayed defiant and refused to crack--would I have gone -through with it? How much does any man know about _himself_? - -I'd probably never know the answer. - -In the days that followed every one of the Wendel agents were rounded -up and returned to Earth to stand trial. I never did find out the -identity of the agent who had shot the dart at me from high up on -the spiral or the one who had sent a little mechanical killer in my -direction by the shores of Lake Michigan in New Chicago. - -It didn't worry me at all, because I was sure that both of those -delightful characters were among the agents who had been rounded up in -the mopping up operations. - -Oh, yes--they rescued her with her hair in disarray and no longer -standing high up on her head. Three days later, drifting through empty -space about three hundred thousand miles from Mars. She's in prison now -and will have to answer charges. But I intend to go all out in the plea -I'll make in her defense when she comes up for trial. - -Some judges are enlightened and merciful and others are harsh tyrants, -but with the backing of the Board I'm not too worried about the -outcome. If it goes against us, I'll take it to the highest court in -the land, and the backing of the Board carries plenty of weight there -too. - -Eventually I forgave Commander Littlefield. - -"I'm a hard man, Ralph," he said, standing in the starlight outside -the Port Administration Section with a crumpled sheet of paper in his -hand, right after he'd received assurances from Earth he'd be placed in -command of a new sky ship. "I did what I did because I am what I am. I -knew that her life hung in the balance, that every word we exchanged -increased the danger. But when I weighed that against the future of -the Colony--I felt I had no choice. I knew what a full confession would -mean to us." - -I never saw Nurse Cherubin again. She married her doctor and they were -honeymoon passengers on the next scheduled Earth trip, which took place -while I was busy making sure that the whole Wendel Combine would come -apart at the seams. It was a little like watching a volcanic explosion -and keeping the lava flow channeled with the full weight of the Board's -authority. - -Joan and I have become Martian Colony residents for the duration. I -mean by that there will always be new battles to be fought in a war -that will never end ... as long as Man stays a part of the universe. -There's something embattled about him that you don't find in any other -species. Maybe it's good and maybe it's bad, but it helps to explain -why he keeps building for the future, He never knows--and just not -knowing makes him want to build as sturdily as he can. - -You never prize anything so much as when you feel you're about to lose -it. So you fight to preserve it, and when you've done that you've built -up enough excess energy to want to make a stab at something better. And -when that's threatened you'll fight again and so on until the final -curtain. - -It's just the way things are. - - -THE END - - * * * * * - - - - - -FOR SCIENCE FICTION FANS - -A space-age collection of startling adventures - - -WORLDS OF WHEN - -Groff Conklin. Five short novels of improbable todays and -possible tomorrows. (F733) - - -VENUS PLUS X - -Theodore Sturgeon. He woke up in a world of strange creatures -and nearly went mad. (F732) - - -THE CASTLE OF IRON - -L. Sprague de Camp & Fletcher Pratt. They disappeared Into a -world of wizards, werewolves, and magic spells. (F722) - - -THE WALL AROUND THE WORLD - -Theodore R. Cogswell. Amazing stories from spaceships to flying -broomsticks. (F703) - - -THE HAUNTED STARS - -Edmond Hamilton. A tense tale of the near future and of Man's -destiny. (F698) - - -THE FALLING TORCH - -Algis Budrys. He had to free an enslaved planet or die. (F693) - - -NAKED TO THE STARS - -Gordon R. Dickson. Soldiers of Space fight Earth's wars on the -far planets. (F682) - - -A WAY HOME - -Theodore Sturgeon. Tales of sky-high imagination and chilling -impact. (F673) - - -THE STAINLESS STEEL RAT - -Harry Harrison. The saga of an interstellar con man and crook. -(F672) - - -EACH BOOK ONLY 40c - -(plus 5c handling charge) - -------------------------------------------------------------- - -PYRAMID BOOKS, Dept. F742, 444 Madison Ave., New York 22, N.Y. - -Please send me the following books. Each book 40c plus 5c handling -charge. I enclose $________________ - - -F733 F732 F722 F703 F698 F693 F682 F673 F672 - -Name _________________________________________________ - -Address ______________________________________________ - -City _______________ State __________________________ - - - * * * * * - - - - -Planet In Danger! - - -There was trouble brewing on Mars--_bad_ trouble. Two giant industrial -empires fought for control there, and their struggle imperiled the -whole Mars colony. Civil war--atomic civil war--could break out any -second, leaving Earth's only foothold in Space a mass of radio-active -rubble. - -But both antagonists were too politically powerful for the Colonization -Board to take a direct hand. One man was needed to take charge--one man -who could act fast and decisively, brutally if he had to. - -Ralph Graham got the job. - -And then people began dying around him.... - -In MARS IS MY DESTINATION, veteran author Frank Long -spins a fast suspense story in the classic tradition of "action" -science-fiction--a story of Tomorrow and a crisis in the advance into -Space. - - -A PYRAMID BOOK 40c - -Cover Painting: John Schoenherr - -Printed In U.S.A. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Mars is my Destination, by Frank Belknap Long - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARS IS MY DESTINATION *** - -***** This file should be named 51125.txt or 51125.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/1/2/51125/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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