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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Spacemen Die at Home, by Edward W. Ludwig
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: Spacemen Die at Home
-
-Author: Edward W. Ludwig
-
-Release Date: February 18, 2016 [EBook #51249]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SPACEMEN DIE AT HOME ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
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-
-
-
-                         Spacemen Die at Home
-
-                          By EDWARD W. LUDWIG
-
-                         Illustrated by THORNE
-
-           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
-                 Galaxy Science Fiction October 1951.
-         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
-         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-
-
-             One man's retreat is another's prison ... and
-           it takes a heap of flying to make a hulk a home!
-
-
-Forty days of heaven and forty nights of hell. That's the way it's
-been, Laura. But how can I make you understand? How can I tell you
-what it's like to be young and a man and to dream of reaching the
-stars? And yet, at the same time, to be filled with a terrible, gnawing
-fear--a fear locked in my mind during the day and bursting out like an
-evil jack-in-the-box at night. I must tell you, Laura.
-
-Perhaps if I start at the beginning, the very beginning....
-
-It was the Big Day. All the examinations, the physicals and psychos,
-were over. The Academy, with its great halls and classrooms and
-laboratories, lay hollow and silent, an exhausted thing at sleep after
-spawning its first-born.
-
-For it was June in this year of 1995, and we were the graduating class
-of the U. S. Academy of Interplanetary Flight.
-
-The _first_ graduating class, Laura. That's why it was so important,
-because we were the _first_.
-
-We sat on a little platform, twenty-five of us. Below us was a beach
-of faces, most of them strange, shining like pebbles in the warm New
-Mexican sunlight. They were the faces of mothers and fathers and
-grandparents and kid brothers and sisters--the people who a short time
-ago had been only scrawled names on letters from home or words spoken
-wistfully at Christmas. They were the memory-people who, to me, had
-never really existed.
-
-But today they had become real, and they were here and looking at us
-with pride in their eyes.
-
-A voice was speaking, deep, sure, resonant. "... these boys have worked
-hard for six years, and now they're going to do a lot of big things.
-They're going to bring us the metals and minerals that we desperately
-need. They're going to find new land for our colonists, good rich land
-that will bear food and be a home for our children. And perhaps most
-important of all, they'll make other men think of the stars and look up
-at them and feel humility--for mankind needs humility."
-
-The speaker was Robert Chandler, who'd brought the first rocket down on
-Mars just five years ago, who'd established the first colony there, and
-who had just returned from his second hop to Venus.
-
-Instead of listening to his words, I was staring at his broad shoulders
-and his dark, crew-cut hair and his white uniform which was silk-smooth
-and skin-tight. I was worshiping him and hating him at the same time,
-for I was thinking:
-
-_He's already reached Mars and Venus. Let him leave Jupiter and the
-others alone! Let us be the first to land somewhere! Let us be the
-first!_
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Mickey Cameron, sitting next to me, dug an elbow into my ribs. "I don't
-see 'em, Ben," he whispered. "Where do you suppose they are?"
-
-I blinked. "Who?"
-
-"My folks."
-
-That was something I didn't have to worry about. My parents had died in
-a strato-jet crash when I was four, so I hadn't needed many of those
-"You are cordially invited" cards. Just one, which I'd sent to Charlie
-Taggart.
-
-Stardust Charlie, we called him, although I never knew why. He was a
-veteran of Everson's first trip to the Moon nearly twenty-five years
-ago, and he was still at it. He was Chief Jetman now on the _Lunar
-Lady_, a commercial ore ship on a shuttle between Luna City and White
-Sands.
-
-I remembered how, as a kid, I'd pestered him in the Long Island
-Spaceport, tagging after him like a puppy, and how he'd grown to like
-me until he became father, mother, and buddy all in one to me. And I
-remembered, too, how his recommendation had finally made me a cadet.
-
-My gaze wandered over the faces, but I couldn't find Charlie's. It
-wasn't surprising. The _Lunar Lady_ was in White Sands now, but
-liberties, as Charlie said, were as scarce as water on Mars.
-
-_It doesn't matter_, I told myself.
-
-Then Mickey stiffened. "I see 'em, Ben! There in the fifth row!"
-
-Usually Mickey was the same whether in a furnace-hot engine room or a
-garden party, smiling, accepting whatever the world offered. But now a
-tenseness and an excitement had gripped even him. I was grateful that
-he was beside me; we'd been a good team during those final months at
-the Academy and I knew we'd be a good team in space. The Universe was
-mighty big, but with two of us to face it together, it would be only
-half as big.
-
-And then it seemed that all the proud faces were looking at us as if we
-were gods. A shiver went through my body. Though it was daytime, I saw
-the stars in my mind's vision, the great shining balls of silver, each
-like a voice crying out and pleading to be explored, to be touched by
-the sons of Earth.
-
-_They expect a lot from us. They expect us to make a new kind of
-civilization and a better place out of Earth. They expect all this and
-a hell of a lot more. They think there's nothing we can't do._
-
-I felt very small and very humble. I was scared. Damned scared.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-At last it was over, and the proud faces descended upon us in a huge,
-babbling wave.
-
-Then I saw him. Good old Stardust Charlie.
-
-His wizened little body was shuffling down an aisle, his eyes shining
-like a child's. He'd been sandwiched, evidently, in one of the rear
-rows.
-
-But he wasn't the Charlie I'd seen a year ago. He'd become gaunt and
-old, and he walked with an unnatural stiffness. He looked so old that
-it was hard to believe he'd once been young.
-
-He scratched his mop of steel-gray hair and grinned.
-
-"You made it, boy," he chortled, "and by Jupiter, we'll celebrate
-tonight. Yes, siree, I got twenty-four hours, and we'll celebrate as
-good spacemen should!"
-
-Then Mickey strode up to us. He was his normal, boyish self again,
-walking lightly, his blond, curly-haired skull swaying as if in rhythm
-with some silent melody.
-
-And you, Laura, were with him.
-
-"Meet the Brat," he said. "My sister Laura."
-
-I stared almost rudely. You were like a doll lost in the immensity
-of your fluffy pink dress. Your hair was long and transformed into a
-golden froth where sunlight touched it. But your eyes were the eyes
-of a woman, glowing like dark stars and reflecting a softness, a
-gentleness that I'd never seen in eyes before.
-
-"I'm happy to meet you, Ben," you said. "I've heard of no one else for
-the past year."
-
-A tide of heat crept up from my collar. I stuttered through an
-introduction of Charlie.
-
-You and Mickey looked strangely at Charlie, and I realized that old
-Stardust was not a cadet's notion of the ideal spaceman. Charlie
-scorned the skin-tight uniforms of the government service and wore a
-shiny black suit that was a relic of Everson's early-day Moon Patrol.
-His tie was clumsily knotted, and a button on his coat was missing.
-
-And the left side of his face was streaked with dark scar tissue, the
-result of an atomic blowup on one of the old Moon ships. I was so
-accustomed to the scars, I was seldom aware of them; but others, I
-knew, would find them ugly.
-
-You were kind. You shook hands and said, softly: "It's a privilege to
-meet you, Charlie. Just think--one of Everson's men, one of the first
-to reach the Moon!"
-
-Charlie gulped helplessly, and Mickey said: "Still going to spend the
-weekend with us, aren't you, Ben?"
-
-I shook my head. "Charlie has only twenty-four hours liberty. We're
-planning to see the town tonight."
-
-"Why don't you both come with us?" you asked. "Our folks have their
-own plane, so it would be no problem. And we've got a big guest room.
-Charlie, wouldn't you like a home-cooked meal before going back to the
-Moon?"
-
-Charlie's answer was obscured by a sudden burst of coughing. I knew
-that he'd infinitely prefer to spend his liberty sampling Martian
-fizzes and Plutonian zombies.
-
-But this night seemed too sacred for Charlie's kind of celebration.
-
-"We'd really like to come," I said.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-On our way to the 'copter parking field, Dean Dawson passed us. He was
-a tall, willowy man, spectacled, looking the way an academy professor
-should look.
-
-"Ben," he called, "don't forget that offer. Remember you've got two
-months to decide."
-
-"No, thanks," I answered. "Better not count on me."
-
-A moment later Mickey said, frowning, "What was he talking about, Ben?
-Did he make you an offer?"
-
-I laughed. "He offered me a job here at the Academy teaching
-astrogation. What a life _that_ would be! Imagine standing in a
-classroom for forty years when I've got the chance to--"
-
-I hesitated, and you supplied the right words: "When you've got the
-chance to be the first to reach a new planet. That's what most of you
-want, isn't it? That's what Mickey used to want."
-
-I looked at you as if you were Everson himself, because you seemed to
-understand the hunger that could lie in a man's heart.
-
-Then your last words came back and jabbed me: "That's what Mickey used
-to want."
-
-"_Used_ to want?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
-
-You bit your lip, not answering.
-
-"What did she mean, Mickey?"
-
-Mickey looked down at his feet. "I didn't want to tell you yet, Ben.
-We've been together a long time, planning to be on a rocket. But--"
-
-"Yes?"
-
-"Well, what does it add up to? You become a spaceman and wear a pretty
-uniform. You wade through the sands of Mars and the dust of Venus. If
-you're lucky, you're good for five, maybe ten years. Then one thing or
-another gets you. They don't insure rocketmen, you know."
-
-My stomach was full of churning, biting ice. "What are you trying to
-say, Mickey?"
-
-"I've thought about it a long time. They want me for Cargo Supervisor
-of White Sands Port." He raised his hand to stop me. "I know. It's not
-so exciting. I'll just live a lot longer. I'm sorry, Ben."
-
-I couldn't answer. It was as if someone had whacked the back of my
-knees with the blast of a jet.
-
-"It doesn't change anything, Ben--right now, I mean. We can still have
-a good weekend."
-
-Charlie was muttering under his breath, smoldering like a bomb about to
-reach critical mass. I shook my head dazedly at him as we got to the
-'copter.
-
-"Sure," I said to Mickey, "we can still have a good weekend."
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-I liked your folks, Laura. There was no star-hunger in them, of course.
-They were simple and solid and settled, like green growing things,
-deep-rooted, belonging to Earth. They were content with a home that was
-cool on this warm summer night, with a 'copter and a tri-dimensional
-video, and a handsome automatic home that needed no servants or
-housework.
-
-Stardust Charlie was as comfortable as a Martian sand-monkey in a
-shower, but he tried courageously to be himself.
-
-At the dinner table he stared glassily at nothing and grated, "Only hit
-Mars once, but I'll never forget the kid who called himself a medic.
-Skipper started coughing, kept it up for three days. Whoopin' cough,
-the medic says, not knowin' the air had chemicals that turned to acid
-in your lungs. I'd never been to Mars before, but I knew better'n that.
-Hell, I says, that ain't whoopin' cough, that's lung-rot."
-
-That was when your father said he wasn't so hungry after all.
-
-Afterward, you and I walked onto the terrace, into the moonlit night,
-to watch for crimson-tailed continental rockets that occasionally
-streaked up from White Sands.
-
-We gazed for a few seconds up into the dark sky, and then you said:
-"Charlie is funny, isn't he? He's nice and I'm glad he's here, but he's
-sort of funny."
-
-"He's an old-time spaceman. You didn't need much education in those
-days, just a lot of brawn and a quick mind. It took guts to be a
-spaceman then."
-
-"But he wasn't always a spaceman. Didn't he ever have a family?"
-
-I smiled and shook my head. "If he had, he never mentioned it. Charlie
-doesn't like to be sentimental, at least not on the outside. As far as
-I know, his life began when he took off for the Moon with Everson."
-
-You stared at me strangely, almost in a sacred kind of way. I knew
-suddenly that you liked me, and my heart began to beat faster.
-
-There was silence.
-
-You were lovely, your soft hair like strands of gold, and there were
-flecks of silver in your dark eyes. Somehow I was afraid. I had the
-feeling that I shouldn't have come here.
-
-You kept looking at me until I had to ask: "What are you thinking,
-Laura?"
-
-You laughed, but it was a sad, fearful laugh. "No, I shouldn't be
-thinking it. You'd hate me if I told you, and I wouldn't want that."
-
-"I could never hate you."
-
-"It--it's about the stars," you said very softly. "I understand why you
-want to go to them. Mickey and I used to dream about them when we were
-kids. Of course I was a girl, so it was just a game to me. But once I
-dreamed of going to England. Oh, it was going to be so wonderful. I
-lived for months, just thinking about it.
-
-"One summer we went. I had fun. I saw the old buildings and castles,
-and the spaceports and the Channel Tube. But after it was over, I
-realized England wasn't so different from America. Places seem exciting
-before you get to them, and afterward they're not really."
-
-I frowned. "And you mean it might be the same with the stars? You think
-maybe I haven't grown up yet?"
-
-Anxiety darkened your features. "No, it'd be good to be a spaceman,
-to see the strange places and make history. But is it worth it? Is it
-worth the things you'd have to give up?"
-
-I didn't understand at first, and I wanted to ask, "Give up _what_?"
-
-Then I looked at you and the promise in your eyes, and I knew.
-
-All through the years I'd been walking down a single, narrow path.
-
-Government boarding school, the Academy, my eyes always upward and on
-the stars.
-
-Now I'd stumbled into a cross-roads, beholding a strange new path that
-I'd never noticed before.
-
-_You can go into space_, I thought, _and try to do as much living in
-ten years as normal men do in fifty. You can be like Everson, who died
-in a Moon crash at the age of 36, or like a thousand others who lie
-buried in Martian sand and Venusian dust. Or, if you're lucky, like
-Charlie--a kind of human meteor streaking through space, eternally
-alone, never finding a home._
-
-_Or there's the other path. To stay on this little prison of an Earth
-in cool, comfortable houses. To be one of the solid, rooted people with
-a wife and kids. To be one of the people who live long enough to grow
-old, who awake to the song of birds instead of rocket grumblings, who
-fill their lungs with the clean rich air of Earth instead of poisonous
-dust._
-
-"I'm sorry," you said. "I didn't mean to make you sad, Ben."
-
-"It's all right," I said, clenching my fists. "You made sense--a lot of
-sense."
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-The next morning Charlie said good-bye in our room. He rubbed his
-scarred face nervously as he cleared his throat with a series of thin,
-tight coughs.
-
-Then he pointed to a brown, faded tin box lying on the bed. "I'm
-leavin' that for you. It's full of old stuff, souvenirs mostly. Thought
-maybe you'd like to have 'em."
-
-I scowled, not understanding. "Why, Charlie? What for?"
-
-He shrugged as if afraid he might be accused of sentimentality. "Oh,
-it's just that I've been dodgin' meteors now for twenty-five years.
-That's a long time, boy. Ain't one spaceman in a thousand that lucky.
-Some of these days, I won't be so lucky."
-
-I tried to laugh. "You're good for another twenty-five years, Charlie."
-
-He shook his head stiffly, staring at nothing. "Maybe. Anyway, I'm
-gonna get off the Shuttle this time, make one more trip to Mars. Tell
-you what. There's a little stone cafe on Mars, the _Space Rat_, just
-off Chandler Field on the Grand Canal. When you get to Mars, take a
-look inside. I'll probably be there."
-
-He coughed again, a deep, rasping cough that filled his eyes with tears.
-
-"Not used to this Earth air," he muttered. "What I need's some Martian
-climate."
-
-Suddenly that cough frightened me. It didn't seem normal. I wondered,
-too, about his stiff movements and glassy stare. It was as if he were
-drugged.
-
-I shook the thought away. If Charlie was sick, he wouldn't talk about
-going to Mars. The medics wouldn't let him go even as far as Luna.
-
-We watched him leave, you and Mickey and I.
-
-"When will you be back?" you asked.
-
-Charlie's hard face contorted itself into a gargoylish grin. "Maybe a
-couple of months, maybe a couple of years. You know spacemen."
-
-Then he waved and strode away, a strange, gray, withered gnome of a man.
-
-I wanted him to say something, to tell me the secret that would kill
-the doubt worming through my brain.
-
-But he rounded a corner, still grinning and waving, and then he was
-gone.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-That afternoon Mickey showed me his room. It was more like a boy's
-room than a spaceman's. In it were all the little things that kids
-treasure--pennants, models of Everson's two ships, a tennis trophy,
-books, a home-made video.
-
-I began to realize how important a room like this could be to a boy.
-I could imagine, too, the happiness that parents felt as they watched
-their children grow to adulthood.
-
-I'd missed something. My folks were shadow-people, my impressions of
-them drawn half from ancient photos, half from imagination. For me, it
-had been a cold, automatic kind of life, the life of dormitories and
-routines and rules. I'd been so blinded by the brilliancy of my dreams,
-I hadn't realized I was different.
-
-_My folks were killed in a rocket crash. If it weren't for rockets, I'd
-have lived the kind of life a kid should live._
-
-Mickey noticed my frown.
-
-"What's the matter, Ben? Still sore? I feel like a heel, but I'm just
-not like you and Charlie, I guess. I--"
-
-"No, I understand, Mickey. I'm not sore, really."
-
-"Listen, then. You haven't accepted any offer yet, have you?"
-
-"No. I got a couple of possibilities. Could get a berth on the
-_Odyssey_, the new ship being finished at Los Angeles. They want me,
-too, for the Moon Patrol, but that's old stuff, not much better than
-teaching. I want to be in deep space."
-
-"Well, how about staying with us till you decide? Might as well enjoy
-Earth life while you can. Okay?"
-
-I felt like running from the house, to forget that it existed. I wanted
-someone to tell me one of the old stories about space, a tale of
-courage that would put fuel on dying dreams.
-
-But I wanted, also, to be with you, Laura, to see your smile and the
-flecks of silver in your eyes and the way your nose turned upward ever
-so slightly when you laughed. You see, I loved you already, almost as
-much as I loved the stars.
-
-And I said, slowly, my voice sounding unfamiliar and far away, "Sure,
-I'll stay, Mickey. Sure."
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Forty days of joy, forty nights of fear and indecision. We did all the
-little things, like watching the rockets land at White Sands and flying
-down to the Gulf to swim in cool waters. You tried, unsuccessfully, to
-teach me to dance, and we talked about Everson and Charlie and the Moon
-and the stars. You felt you had to give the stars all the beauty and
-promise of a child's dream, because you knew that was what I wanted.
-
-One morning I thought, _Why must I make a choice? Why can't I have both
-you and the stars? Would that be asking too much?_
-
-All day the thought lay in my mind like fire.
-
-That evening I asked you to marry me. I said it very simply: "Laura, I
-want you to be my wife."
-
-You looked up at Venus, and you were silent for a long while, your face
-flushed.
-
-Then you murmured, "I--I want to marry you, Ben, but are you asking me
-to marry a spaceman or a teacher?"
-
-"Can't a spaceman marry, too?"
-
-"Yes, a spaceman can marry, but what would it be like? Don't you see,
-Ben? You'd be like Charlie. Gone for _maybe_ two months, _maybe_ two
-years. Then you'd have a twenty-four hour liberty--and I'd have what?"
-
-Somehow I'd expected words like these, but still they hurt. "I wouldn't
-have to be a spaceman forever. I could try it for a couple of years,
-then teach."
-
-"Would you, Ben? Would you be satisfied with just seeing Mars? Wouldn't
-you want to go on to Jupiter and Saturn and Uranus and on and on?"
-
-Your voice was choked, and even in the semi-darkness I saw tears
-glittering in your eyes.
-
-"Do you think I'd dare have children, Ben? Mickey told me what happened
-on the _Cyclops_. There was a leak in the atomic engines. The ship was
-flooded with radiation--just for a second. It didn't seem serious. The
-men had no burns. But a year later the captain had a child. And it
-was--"
-
-"I know, Laura. Don't say it."
-
-You had to finish. "It was a monster."
-
-That night I lay awake, the fears and doubts too frantic to let me
-sleep.
-
-_You've got to decide now_, I told myself. _You can't stay here. You've
-got to make a choice._
-
-The teaching job was still open. The spot on the _Odyssey_ was still
-open--and the big ship, it was rumored, was equipped to make it all the
-way to Pluto.
-
-_You can take Dean Dawson's job and stay with Laura and have kids and a
-home and live to see what happens in this world sixty years from now._
-
-_Or you can see what's on the other side of the mountain. You can be a
-line in a history book._
-
-I cursed. I knew what Charlie would say. He'd say, "Get the hell out
-of there, boy. Don't let a fool woman make a sucker out of you. Get
-out there on the _Odyssey_ where you belong. We got a date on Mars,
-remember? At the _Space Rat_, just off Chandler Field on the Grand
-Canal."
-
-That's what he'd say.
-
-And yet I wanted you, Laura. I wanted to be with you, always.
-
-"Oh God," I moaned, "what shall I do?"
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Next morning the door chimes pealed, and you went to the door and
-brought back the audiogram. It was addressed to me; I wondered who
-could be sending me a message.
-
-I pressed the stud on the little gray cylinder, and a rasping,
-automatic voice droned: "Luna City, Luna, July 27, 1995. Regret to
-inform you of death of Charles Taggart, Chief Jetman...."
-
-Then there was a Latin name which was more polite than the word
-"lung-rot" and the metallic phrase, "This message brought to you by
-courtesy of United Nations Earth-Luna Communication Corps."
-
-I stood staring at the cylinder.
-
-Charles Taggart was dead.
-
-Charles Taggart was Charlie. Stardust Charlie.
-
-My heart thudded crazily against my chest. It couldn't be! Not Charlie!
-The audiogram had lied!
-
-I pressed the stud again. "... regret to inform you of death of
-Charles ..."
-
-I hurled the cylinder at the wall. It thudded, fell, rolled. The broken
-voice droned on.
-
-You ran to it, shut it off. "I'm sorry, Ben, so terribly--"
-
-Without answering, I walked into my room. I knew it was true now. I
-remembered Charlie's coughing, his gaunt features, his drugged gaze.
-The metallic words had told the truth.
-
-I sat for a long time on my bed, crying inside, but staring dry-eyed at
-Charlie's faded tin box.
-
-Then, finally, I fingered his meager possessions--a few wrinkled
-photos, some letters, a small black statue of a forgotten Martian god,
-a gold service medal from the Moon Patrol.
-
-This was what remained of Charlie after twenty-five years in space.
-It was a bitter bargain. A statue instead of a wife, yellowed letters
-instead of children, a medal instead of a home.
-
-_It'd be a great future_, I thought. _You'd dream of sitting in a dingy
-stone dive on the Grand Canal with sand-wasps buzzing around smoky,
-stinking candles. A bottle of luchu juice and a couple of Martian girls
-with dirty feet for company. And a sudden cough that would be the first
-sign of lung-rot._
-
-To hell with it!
-
-I walked into your living room and called Dean Dawson on the visiphone.
-
-I accepted that job teaching.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-And now, Laura, it's nearly midnight. You're in your room, sleeping,
-and the house is silent.
-
-It's hard to tell you, to make you understand, and that is why I am
-writing this.
-
-I looked through Charlie's box again, more carefully this time, reading
-the old letters and studying the photographs. I believe now that
-Charlie sensed my indecision, that he left these things so that they
-could tell me what he could not express in words.
-
-And among the things, Laura, I found a ring.
-
-A wedding ring.
-
-In that past he never talked about, there was a woman--his wife.
-Charlie was young once, his eyes full of dreams, and he faced the same
-decision that I am facing. Two paths were before him, but he tried to
-travel both. He later learned what we already know--that there can be
-no compromise. And you know, too, which path he finally chose.
-
-Do you know why he had to drug himself to watch me graduate? So he
-could look at me, knowing that I would see the worlds he could never
-live to see. Charlie didn't leave just a few trinkets behind him. He
-left himself, Laura, for he showed me that a boy's dream can also be a
-man's dream.
-
-He made his last trip to Luna when he knew he was going to die. Heaven
-knows how he escaped a checkup. Maybe the captain understood and was
-kind--but that doesn't matter now.
-
-Do you know _why_ he wanted to reach Mars? Do you know why he didn't
-want to die in the clean, cool air of Earth?
-
-It was because he wanted to die nearer home. His home, Laura, was the
-Universe, where the ship was his house, the crew his father, mother,
-brothers, the planets his children.
-
-You say that the beauty of the other side of the mountain vanishes
-after you reach it. But how can one ever be _sure_ until the journey is
-made? Could I or Charlie or the thousand before us bear to look upon a
-star and think, _I might have gone there; I could have been the first_?
-
-We said, too, that the life of a spaceman is lonely. Yet how could one
-be lonely when men like Charlie roam the spaceways?
-
-Charlie wanted me to himself that night after graduation. He wanted us
-to celebrate as spacemen should, for he knew that this would be his
-last night on Earth. It might have seemed an ugly kind of celebration
-to you, but he wanted it with all his heart, and we robbed him of it.
-
-Because of these things, Laura, I will be gone in the morning. Explain
-the best you can to Mickey and to your parents and Dean Dawson.
-
-Right now I've got a date that I'm going to keep--at a dingy stone cafe
-on Mars, the _Space Rat_, just off Chandler Field on the Grand Canal.
-
-Stardust Charlie will be there; he'll go with me in memory to whatever
-part of the Galaxy I may live to reach. And so will you, Laura.
-
-I have two wedding rings with me--his wife's ring and yours.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's Spacemen Die at Home, by Edward W. Ludwig
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