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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #53042 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53042)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hitch in Space, by Fritz Leiber
-
-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: A Hitch in Space
-
-Author: Fritz Leiber
-
-Illustrator: Sol Dember
-             Gray Morrow
-
-Release Date: September 13, 2016 [EBook #53042]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HITCH IN SPACE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-                      [Illustration: book cover]
-
-
-
-
-                            A HITCH IN SPACE
-
-                            BY FRITZ LEIBER
-
-                          ILLUSTRATED BY GRAY
-
-                      My Space-partner was a good
-                      reliable sidekick—but _his_
-                      partner was something else!
-
-
-Once when I was doing a hitch with the Shaulan Space Guard out Scorpio
-way, my partner Jeff Bogart developed just about the most harmless
-psychosis you could imagine: he got himself an imaginary companion.
-
-And the imaginary companion turned out to be me.
-
-Well, I’m a pretty nice guy and so having two of me in the ship didn’t
-seem a particularly bad idea. At first. In fact there’d be advantages of
-it, I thought. For instance, Jeff liked to talk a weary lot ... and the
-imaginary Joe Hansen could spell me listening to him, while I projected
-a book or just harkened to the wheels going around in my own head
-against the faint patter of starlight on the hull.
-
-I met Jeff first at a space-rodeo, oddly enough, but now the two of us
-were out on a servicing check of the orbital beacons and relays and
-rescue depots of the five planets of the Shaulan system. A completely
-routine job, its only drawback that it was lengthy. Our ship was an
-ionic jeep that looked like a fancy fountain pen, but was very roomy for
-three men—one of them imaginary.
-
-I caught on to Jeff’s little mania by overhearing him talking to me. I’d
-be coming back from the head or stores or linear accelerator or my bunk,
-and I’d hear him yakking at me. It embarrassed me the first time, how to
-go back into the cabin when the other me was there. But I just swam in,
-and without any transition-strain at all that I could observe Jeff
-looked around at me, smiling sort of glaze-eyed, and said warmly, “Joe.
-My buddy Joe. Am I glad they paired us.”
-
-If Jeff had a major fault, as opposed to a species of nuttiness, it was
-that he was strictly a speak-only-good, positive-thinking guy who always
-deferred to me. Even idolized me, if you can imagine that. He’d give me
-such fulsome praise I’d be irked ten times an orbit.
-
-Another thing that helped me catch on was that he always called the
-other me Joseph.
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-At first I thought the whole thing might be a gag, or maybe a deliberate
-way of letting off steam against me without violating his
-always-a-sweet-guy code—like happy husbands cursing in the bathroom—but
-then came the scrambled eggs.
-
-I’d slept late and when I squinted into the cabin there was Jeff
-hovering over a plate of yellow fluff and shaking his finger at my empty
-seat and saying, “Dammit, Joseph, eat your scrambled eggs, I cooked ’em
-’specially for you,” and when he crawfished out toward the galley a
-couple seconds later he was saying, “Now you start on those eggs,
-Joseph, before I get back.”
-
-I thought for a bit and then I slid into my place and polished them off.
-
-When he floated in with the coffee he gave me another of those
-glaze-eyed God-fearing looks—but just a mite disappointed, I thought—and
-said, “Dammit, Joe, you’re perfect! You always clean your plate.”
-
-Apparently when I was there, Joseph just didn’t exist for Jeff. And vice
-versa. It was sort of eerie, especially with the hum of space in my ears
-like a seashell and nobody else for five million miles.
-
-Beginning with the scrambled eggs, I discovered that Jeff didn’t exactly
-idolize Joseph—or even take with him the attitude of “My buddy can do no
-wrong,” like he did with me. I overheard him criticizing Joseph.
-Reasonably at first; then I heard him chewing him out—next bullying him.
-
-It made me wistful, that last, thinking how good it would feel to be
-full-bloodedly cursed to my face once in a while instead of all the
-sweetness and light. And right there I got the idea for some amateur
-therapy, Shaula-Deva help me.
-
-I waited for a moment when we were both relaxed and then I said, “Jeff,
-the trouble with you is you’re too nice. You ought to criticize things
-more. For a starter, criticize me. Tell me my faults. Go ahead.”
-
-He flushed a little and said, “Dammit, Joe, how can I? You’re perfect!”
-
-“No man is perfect, Jeff,” I told him solemnly, feeling pretty foolish.
-
-“But you’re my buddy I always can trust,” he protested, squirming a bit.
-“I wish you wouldn’t talk this way.”
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-“Jeff, you can’t trust anybody too far,” I said. “Even good guys can do
-bad things. When I was a boy there was a kid named Harry I practically
-worshipped. We lived on a pioneer world of Fomalhaut that had good snow,
-and we’d hitch rides with our sleds off little airscrew planes taking
-off. We’d each have a long white line on his sled and loop it beforehand
-around the plane’s tail-gear and back to the sled. Then we’d hide. As
-soon as the pilot got aboard we’d jump on our sleds and each grab the
-free end of his line and have one comet of a ride, until the plane took
-off. Then we’d quick let go.
-
-“Well, one frosty morning I let go and nothing happened, except I
-started to rise. Harry had tied the free end of my line tight to my
-sled.
-
-“I could have just rolled off, I suppose, but I didn’t want to lose my
-sled or my line either. Luckily I had a sheath knife handy and I used
-it. I even made a whizeroo of a landing. But ever afterwards my feelings
-toward Harry—”
-
-“Stop it, please, Joe!” Jeff interrupted, very red in the face and
-shaking a little. “That boy Harry was utterly evil. And I don’t want to
-hear any more about this, or anything like it, ever again. Understand?”
-
-I told him sure I did. Heck, I could see I’d gone the wrong way about
-it. I even begged his pardon.
-
-After that I just sweated it out. But I found I couldn’t spend much time
-on books or my thoughts, I’d keep listening for what Jeff was saying to
-Joseph. And sometimes when he’d pause for Joseph’s reply I’d catch
-myself waiting for the imaginary me to make one. So I took to staying in
-the same cabin as Jeff as much as I could.
-
-That seemed to make him uncomfortable after a while, though he pretended
-to glory in it. He’d ask me questions like, “Tell me about life, Joe. So
-I’ll know how to handle myself if we’re ever parted.”
-
-But the weariest things come to an end, even duty orbits around Shaula.
-And so the time came when we were servicing our last beacon—outside the
-planet Shaula-by, it was. Next step would be a fast interplanetary orbit
-for Base at Shaula-near.
-
-I was out working—on a safety line of course, but suit-jetting around
-more than I needed to, just for the pure joy of it, so that my suit tank
-was almost dry. I’d switched my suit radio off for a bit, because,
-working in space, Jeff had taken to just gabbling to me nervously all
-the time—maybe because he figured there couldn’t be room for Joseph with
-him in his suit.
-
-[Illustration: space walk]
-
-I finished up and paused for a last look at the ship. She was sweetly
-slim from her conical living quarters to the taper-tail of her ionic
-jet, but she had more junk on her than an amateur asteroid prospector
-hangs on his suit the first time out. Every duty orbit, fifty scientists
-come with permission from the Commandant to hang some automatic research
-gadget on the hull. The craziest one this time was a huge flattened band
-of gold-plated aluminum, little more than foil-thick, attached crosswise
-just in front of the tail and sticking out twenty feet on each side. I
-don’t know what it was there for—maybe to measure the effects of space
-on a Moebius strip—but it looked like a wedding ring that had been
-stepped on. So Jeff and I called it Trompled Love.
-
-But in spite of the junk, the ship looked mighty sweet against the
-saffron steppes and baby-blue seas of Shaula-by with Shaula herself, old
-Lambda Scorpii, flaming warm and wildly beyond, and with “United States”
-standing out big as life on the ship’s living quarters. United States of
-Shaula, of course.
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-I was almost dreaming out there, thinking how it hadn’t been such a
-terrible duty after all, when I saw the ship begin to slide past Shaula.
-
-Poking out of her tail, ghostlier than the flame over a cafe royale, was
-the evil blue glow of her jet. In an instant I’d guessed exactly what
-had happened and was beating myself on the head for not having
-anticipated it. Joseph had swum into the cabin right after Jeff. And
-Jeff had yelled at him. “It’s about time, you lazy lunkhead! Everything
-secure? Okay, I’m switching on the beam!” And I’d probably brought the
-whole thing about by telling him that damfool sled story—and then
-sticking to him so close he just had to get rid of me, so as to be with
-Joseph.
-
-Meanwhile the ship was gathering speed in her sneaky way and the wavy
-safety line between me and the airlock was starting to straighten.
-
-As you know, an ionic jet’s only good space-to-space. It’s not for
-heavy-G work; ours could deliver only one-half G at max and was doing
-less than one-quarter now. Which meant the ship was starting off slower
-than most ground cars.
-
-But the beam would fire for hours, building up to a terminal velocity of
-fifteen miles a second and carrying the ship far, far away from lonely
-Joe Hansen.
-
-Except that we were tied together, of course.
-
-I was very grateful then for the weeks I’d practiced space-roping,
-though I’d never won any prizes with it, because without thinking I
-started to whip my line very carefully. And on the third try, just as it
-was getting pretty straight, I managed to settle it in a notch in one
-outside end of Trompled Love. After that I took up strain on the line as
-gradually as I could, letting it friction through my gloves for as long
-as I could before putting all my mass on it—because although one-quarter
-G isn’t much, it piles up in a few seconds to quite a jerk. I spread
-that jerk into several little ones.
-
-Well, the last jerk came and the line didn’t part and Trompled Love
-didn’t crumple much, though the Shaula-light showed me several very
-nasty-looking wrinkles in it. And there I was trailing along after the
-ship, though out to one side, and feeling about as much strain on the
-line as if I were hanging from a cliff on the moon, and knowing I was
-going about five feet a second faster every second.
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-My idea wanting to be out to the side (and bless my impulses for
-realizing it was the one important thing!) was to keep my line and
-myself out of the beam. An ionic jet doesn’t look hot from the side. But
-from straight on it’s a lot brighter than an arc light—it’s almost as
-tight as a laser beam—and I didn’t want to think about what it would do
-to me, even trailing as I was a hundred yards aft.
-
-Though of course long before it had ruined me, it would have
-disintegrated my line.
-
-My being out to the side was putting the ship off balance on its jet and
-presumably throwing its course toward base and Shaula-near little by
-little into error. But that was the least of my worries, believe me.
-
-I thought for a bit and remembered I could talk to Jeff over my suit
-radio. I decided to try it, not without misgivings.
-
-I tongued it on and said, “Jeff. Oh, Jeff. I’m out here. You forgot me.”
-
-I was going to say some more, but just then he broke in, angry and so
-loud it made my helmet ring, with, “Joseph! Did you hear anything then?”
-A pause, then, “Well, clean the wax out of your ears, stupid, because I
-did! I think we got an enemy out there!”
-
-Another and longer pause, while my blood curdled a bit thicker, then,
-“Well, okay, Joseph, I’ll go along with you this time. But if I hear the
-enemy once more, I’m going to suit up and take a rifle and sit in the
-airlock door until I’ve potted him.”
-
-I tongued the radio off quick, fearful I’d sneeze or something. I had
-only one faint consolation: Joseph seemed to be a bit on my side, or
-maybe he was just lazy.
-
-I thought some more, a mite frantic-like now, and after a while I said
-to myself, _Been going five minutes now, so I’m doing about a quarter of
-a mile a second—that’s fifteen miles a minute, wow!—but out here
-velocities are purely relative. My suit does a little better than a
-quarter G full on. Okay. I’ll jet to the ship._
-
-No sooner said than acted on—I was beginning to rely too much on impulse
-now. The suit jet killed my false weight at once and I was off, mighty
-careful to aim myself along my line or a little outside it, so as not to
-wander over into the beam.
-
-Pretty soon the tail and Trompled Love were getting noticeably bigger.
-
-Then a lot bigger.
-
-Then my suit fuel ran out.
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-I’d built up enough velocity so that I was still gaining on the ship for
-a few seconds. In fact, I almost made it. My gauntlet was about to close
-on Trompled Love when the ship started slowly to pull away. Oh, it was
-frustrating!
-
-I remembered then what I should have a lot earlier, and grabbed for the
-ship-end of my line so as not to lose the distance I’d gained—and in my
-haste I knocked it away from me. The only good thing was that I didn’t
-knock it out of the notch.
-
-Now I was losing space to the ship faster and faster. Yet all I could do
-was reel in the me-end of the line as fast as I could. Suddenly the
-whole line straightened and gave me a bigger jerk than I’d intended. I
-could see Trompled Love crumple a little. And I was swinging just a bit,
-like a pendulum.
-
-I used a glove-friction to spread the rest of the jerk, but still I was
-at the end of my line and Trompled Love had crumpled a bit more before I
-was coasting along with the ship again.
-
-My side of Trompled Love was bent back maybe twenty degrees. The eye of
-the beam shone at me from the tail like a pale blue moon. For quite a
-while it brightened and dimmed as I tick-tock swung.
-
-Meanwhile I was beating my skull for not having thought earlier of the
-obvious slow-but-safe way of doing it, instead of that lunatic
-suit-jetting. I once heard a psychologist say we’re mental slaves to
-power-machinery and I guess he had something.
-
-Clearly all I had to do was climb hand-over-hand up the line to the
-ship. At moon gravity that would be easy. If I should get tired I only
-had to clamp on and rest.
-
-So I waited for my emotions to settle a bit, and then I reached along
-the line and gave a smooth, medium-strength heave.
-
-Maybe there is something to ESP—at least in a devilish sort of
-way—because I picked the exact moment when Jeff decided to feed the beam
-more juice.
-
-There was a _big_ jerk and I saw Trompled Love crumple a lot, so that it
-was pointing more than forty-five degrees aft.
-
-Now there was a steady pull on the line like I was hanging from a cliff
-on Mars. And the eye of the beam was a blue moon not so pale—in fact
-more like a sizzling blue sun seen through a light fog.
-
-After that I just didn’t have the heart to try the climb again. Once I
-started to draw myself up, very cautious, but on the first handhold I
-seemed to feel along the line Trompled Love crumpling some more and I
-quit for good.
-
-I figured that at this boost Jeff would be up to proper speed for
-Shaula-near in less than two hours. Well, I had suit-oxy and
-refrigeration for longer than that.
-
-Of course if Jeff decided not to cut the beam on schedule, maybe with
-the idea of eloping with Joseph to the next solar system—well, I’d
-discover then whether suit-oxy running out would stimulate me to try the
-climb again alongside the beam.
-
-(Or I could wait until he got her up near the speed of light, when by
-the General Theory of Relativity the line ought to be shortened enough
-so that I could hop aboard if I were sudden enough about it.... _No, Joe
-Hansen, you quit that_, I told myself, _you don’t want to die with the
-gears in your head all stripped_.)
-
-Thinking about the beam got me wondering exactly how close I was to it.
-I unshipped my suit-antenna and pulled it out to full length—about eight
-feet—and fished around with it in the direction of the beam.
-
-Nothing seemed to happen to it. It didn’t glow or anything; but I
-suddenly got a little electric shock, and when I drew it back I could
-see three inches of the tip were gone and the next couple inches were
-pitted. So much for curiosity.
-
-Next I reattached the antenna to my suit—which turned out to be a lot
-more troublesome job than unshipping it—and tongued on the radio with
-the idea of listening in on Jeff.
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-Right away I heard him say, “Wake up, Joseph! I’m going to tell you your
-faults again. I got a new way of cataloguing them—chronologically. Begin
-with childhood. You hitched sled-rides on airplanes. That was bad,
-Joseph, that was against the law. If the man had caught you doing it, if
-he’d seen you whizzing along there back of him, he’d have had every
-right to shoot you down in cold blood. Life is hard, Joseph, life is
-merciless....”
-
-Right then I felt a tickle in my throat.
-
-I tried quick to shut off the radio, but it is remarkably difficult to
-tongue anything when you have a cough coming. It came out finally in a
-series of squeaky glubs.
-
-“Snap to, Joseph, and listen hard,” I heard Jeff say. “It’s started
-again. Animal noises this time. You know if they make spacesuits for
-black panthers, Joseph?”
-
-I tongued off the radio quick, before the follow-up cough came.
-
-I didn’t have anything left to do now but think. So I thought about
-Jeff—how there seemed to be one Jeff who hated my guts and another Jeff
-who idolized me and another Jeff sneaking around in a jungle of
-sabertooth tigers and ... heck, there was probably a good twenty Jeffs
-sitting around inside his skull, some in light, some in darkness, but
-all of them watching each other and arguing together all the time. It
-was an odd way to think of a personality—a sort of perpetual
-_Kaffeeklatsch_—but it had its points. Maybe some of the little guys
-weren’t Jeffs at all, but his father and mother and a caveman ancestor
-or two and maybe some great-great-grandchild butting in now and then
-from the future....
-
-Well, I saw that speculation was getting out of hand so, taking a tip
-from Jeff, I began to count my own sins.
-
-It took quite a while. Some of them were pretty interesting reading,
-almost enough to take my mind off my predicament, but I tired of it
-finally.
-
-Then I began to count the stars.
-
-It was really the longest two hours plus I ever spent, except maybe the
-time my first big girl disappeared. But I don’t know. The experiences
-are hard to compare.
-
-I was about halfway through the stars when I went weightless. For an
-awful instant I thought the line had parted at last, but then I looked
-toward the ship and saw the bright little moon was gone.
-
-                  *       *       *       *       *
-
-Right away I gave a couple of tugs on the line and began to close slowly
-with the tail. No trouble at all—actually my only difficulty was
-resisting the temptation to build up more momentum, which would have
-resulted in a crash landing.
-
-I softed-in on Trompled Love okay, except there was a big spark. The
-beam must have charged me good. Then I worked my way to the true hull.
-After that there were handholds.
-
-Finally I got to a porthole in the living quarters, and I looked in, and
-there was Jeff jawing away at my empty seat. I put my helmet against the
-hull and very faintly I heard him say, “Joseph, I’m still worried about
-the enemy. I keep thinking I hear him or it. I’m going to make us some
-coffee, so we’ll stay real alert. You break out the guns.”
-
-I don’t suppose anyone ever moved quite so quietly _and_ so quickly in a
-spacesuit as I did then. I got in the airlock, I got her up to pressure,
-I got unsuited—and all in less than five minutes, I’m sure. Maybe less
-than four.
-
-I swam to the cabin. It was empty. I slid into my seat just as Jeff
-floated in with the coffee.
-
-He went real pale when he spotted me. I saw there might be some trouble
-this time with the Joseph-Joe transition. But I knew the only way to
-play it was real cool. I nested there in my seat as if I hadn’t a worry
-or urge in the world—though my nerves and throat were just screaming for
-a squirt of that coffee.
-
-“Joe!” he squeaked at last. “Migod, you gave me an awful scare. I
-thought you’d done a bunk, I thought, you’d spaced yourself, I kept
-picturing you outside the ship.”
-
-“Why no, Jeff,” I answered quietly. “One way or another, I’ve been in
-this seat ever since take-off.”
-
-His brow wrinkled as he thought about that.
-
-I looked at the board and noticed that our terminal trip-velocity read
-fifteen miles a second. My, my.
-
-Finally Jeff said, “That’s right, you have.” And then, just a shade
-unhappily, “I might have known. You always tell the truth, Joe—you’re
-perfect.”
-
-
-                                  END
-
-
-
-
-                           TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
-
-
-This etext was produced from Worlds of Tomorrow, August 1963. Extensive
-research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this
-publication was renewed.
-
-Punctuation has been normalized. Spelling and hyphenation have been
-retained as they were in the original book.
-
-Italicized phrases are presented by surrounding the text with
-_underscores_.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hitch in Space, by Fritz Leiber
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hitch in Space, by Fritz Leiber
-
-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: A Hitch in Space
-
-Author: Fritz Leiber
-
-Illustrator: Sol Dember
-             Gray Morrow
-
-Release Date: September 13, 2016 [EBook #53042]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HITCH IN SPACE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<div  class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='book cover' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div>
-  <h1 class='c000'><b>A HITCH IN SPACE</b></h1>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
-    <div><b><span class='large'>BY FRITZ LEIBER</span></b></div>
-    <div class='c001'><b>ILLUSTRATED BY GRAY</b></div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c002'>My Space-partner was a good
-reliable sidekick—but <i>his</i>
-partner was something else!</p>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_3_0_4 c003'>Once when I was doing a
-hitch with the Shaulan Space
-Guard out Scorpio way, my partner
-Jeff Bogart developed just
-about the most harmless psychosis
-you could imagine: he got himself
-an imaginary companion.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>And the imaginary companion
-turned out to be me.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Well, I’m a pretty nice guy and
-so having two of me in the ship
-didn’t seem a particularly bad idea.
-At first. In fact there’d be advantages
-of it, I thought. For instance,
-Jeff liked to talk a weary lot ... and
-the imaginary Joe Hansen
-could spell me listening to him,
-while I projected a book or just
-harkened to the wheels going
-around in my own head against the
-faint patter of starlight on the hull.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I met Jeff first at a space-rodeo,
-oddly enough, but now the two of
-us were out on a servicing check of
-the orbital beacons and relays and
-rescue depots of the five planets of
-the Shaulan system. A completely
-routine job, its only drawback that
-it was lengthy. Our ship was an
-ionic jeep that looked like a fancy
-fountain pen, but was very roomy
-for three men—one of them
-imaginary.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I caught on to Jeff’s little mania
-by overhearing him talking to me.
-I’d be coming back from the head
-or stores or linear accelerator or
-my bunk, and I’d hear him yakking
-at me. It embarrassed me the first
-time, how to go back into the cabin
-when the other me was there. But
-I just swam in, and without any
-transition-strain at all that I could
-observe Jeff looked around at me,
-smiling sort of glaze-eyed, and said
-warmly, “Joe. My buddy Joe. Am
-I glad they paired us.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>If Jeff had a major fault, as opposed
-to a species of nuttiness, it
-was that he was strictly a speak-only-good,
-positive-thinking guy
-who always deferred to me. Even
-idolized me, if you can imagine
-that. He’d give me such fulsome
-praise I’d be irked ten times an
-orbit.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Another thing that helped me
-catch on was that he always called
-the other me Joseph.</p>
-
-<hr class='c005' />
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_4_0_4 c006'>At first I thought the whole
-thing might be a gag, or maybe
-a deliberate way of letting off
-steam against me without violating
-his always-a-sweet-guy code—like
-happy husbands cursing in the
-bathroom—but then came the
-scrambled eggs.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I’d slept late and when I squinted
-into the cabin there was Jeff hovering
-over a plate of yellow fluff and
-shaking his finger at my empty seat
-and saying, “Dammit, Joseph, eat
-your scrambled eggs, I cooked ’em
-’specially for you,” and when he
-crawfished out toward the galley
-a couple seconds later he was saying,
-“Now you start on those eggs,
-Joseph, before I get back.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I thought for a bit and then I
-slid into my place and polished
-them off.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>When he floated in with the coffee
-he gave me another of those
-glaze-eyed God-fearing looks—but
-just a mite disappointed, I
-thought—and said, “Dammit, Joe,
-you’re perfect! You always clean
-your plate.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Apparently when I was there,
-Joseph just didn’t exist for Jeff.
-And vice versa. It was sort of eerie,
-especially with the hum of space in
-my ears like a seashell and nobody
-else for five million miles.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Beginning with the scrambled
-eggs, I discovered that Jeff didn’t
-exactly idolize Joseph—or even
-take with him the attitude of “My
-buddy can do no wrong,” like he
-did with me. I overheard him criticizing
-Joseph. Reasonably at first;
-then I heard him chewing him out—next
-bullying him.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>It made me wistful, that last,
-thinking how good it would feel to
-be full-bloodedly cursed to my face
-once in a while instead of all the
-sweetness and light. And right there
-I got the idea for some amateur
-therapy, Shaula-Deva help me.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I waited for a moment when we
-were both relaxed and then I said,
-“Jeff, the trouble with you is you’re
-too nice. You ought to criticize
-things more. For a starter, criticize
-me. Tell me my faults. Go ahead.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>He flushed a little and said,
-“Dammit, Joe, how can I? You’re
-perfect!”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>“No man is perfect, Jeff,” I told
-him solemnly, feeling pretty foolish.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>“But you’re my buddy I always
-can trust,” he protested, squirming
-a bit. “I wish you wouldn’t talk
-this way.”</p>
-
-<hr class='c005' />
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_4_0_4 c006'>“Jeff, you can’t trust anybody
-too far,” I said. “Even good
-guys can do bad things. When
-I was a boy there was a kid named
-Harry I practically worshipped. We
-lived on a pioneer world of Fomalhaut
-that had good snow, and we’d
-hitch rides with our sleds off little
-airscrew planes taking off. We’d
-each have a long white line on his
-sled and loop it beforehand around
-the plane’s tail-gear and back to the
-sled. Then we’d hide. As soon as the
-pilot got aboard we’d jump on
-our sleds and each grab the free
-end of his line and have one comet
-of a ride, until the plane took off.
-Then we’d quick let go.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>“Well, one frosty morning I let
-go and nothing happened, except I
-started to rise. Harry had tied the
-free end of my line tight to my sled.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>“I could have just rolled off, I
-suppose, but I didn’t want to lose
-my sled or my line either. Luckily
-I had a sheath knife handy and I
-used it. I even made a whizeroo of
-a landing. But ever afterwards my
-feelings toward Harry—”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>“Stop it, please, Joe!” Jeff interrupted,
-very red in the face and
-shaking a little. “That boy Harry
-was utterly evil. And I don’t want
-to hear any more about this, or
-anything like it, ever again. Understand?”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I told him sure I did. Heck, I
-could see I’d gone the wrong way
-about it. I even begged his pardon.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>After that I just sweated it out.
-But I found I couldn’t spend much
-time on books or my thoughts, I’d
-keep listening for what Jeff was
-saying to Joseph. And sometimes
-when he’d pause for Joseph’s reply
-I’d catch myself waiting for the
-imaginary me to make one. So I
-took to staying in the same cabin
-as Jeff as much as I could.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>That seemed to make him uncomfortable
-after a while, though
-he pretended to glory in it. He’d
-ask me questions like, “Tell me
-about life, Joe. So I’ll know how
-to handle myself if we’re ever
-parted.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>But the weariest things come to
-an end, even duty orbits around
-Shaula. And so the time came when
-we were servicing our last beacon—outside
-the planet Shaula-by, it
-was. Next step would be a fast interplanetary
-orbit for Base at Shaula-near.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I was out working—on a safety
-line of course, but suit-jetting
-around more than I needed to, just
-for the pure joy of it, so that my
-suit tank was almost dry. I’d switched
-my suit radio off for a bit, because,
-working in space, Jeff had
-taken to just gabbling to me nervously
-all the time—maybe because
-he figured there couldn’t be room
-for Joseph with him in his suit.</p>
-
-<div  class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/p081.jpg' alt='space walk' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c004'>I finished up and paused for a
-last look at the ship. She was sweetly
-slim from her conical living quarters
-to the taper-tail of her ionic
-jet, but she had more junk on
-her than an amateur asteroid prospector
-hangs on his suit the first
-time out. Every duty orbit, fifty
-scientists come with permission
-from the Commandant to hang
-some automatic research gadget on
-the hull. The craziest one this time
-was a huge flattened band of
-gold-plated aluminum, little more than
-foil-thick, attached crosswise just in
-front of the tail and sticking out
-twenty feet on each side. I don’t
-know what it was there for—maybe
-to measure the effects of space
-on a Moebius strip—but it looked
-like a wedding ring that had been
-stepped on. So Jeff and I called it
-Trompled Love.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>But in spite of the junk, the ship
-looked mighty sweet against the
-saffron steppes and baby-blue seas
-of Shaula-by with Shaula herself,
-old Lambda Scorpii, flaming warm
-and wildly beyond, and with “United
-States” standing out big as life
-on the ship’s living quarters. United
-States of Shaula, of course.</p>
-
-<hr class='c005' />
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_3_0_4 c006'>I was almost dreaming out there,
-thinking how it hadn’t been such
-a terrible duty after all, when I saw
-the ship begin to slide past Shaula.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Poking out of her tail, ghostlier
-than the flame over a cafe royale,
-was the evil blue glow of her jet.
-In an instant I’d guessed exactly
-what had happened and was
-beating myself on the head for not
-having anticipated it. Joseph had
-swum into the cabin right after Jeff.
-And Jeff had yelled at him. “It’s
-about time, you lazy lunkhead!
-Everything secure? Okay, I’m
-switching on the beam!” And I’d
-probably brought the whole thing
-about by telling him that damfool
-sled story—and then sticking to
-him so close he just had to get rid
-of me, so as to be with Joseph.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Meanwhile the ship was gathering
-speed in her sneaky way and
-the wavy safety line between me
-and the airlock was starting to
-straighten.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>As you know, an ionic jet’s only
-good space-to-space. It’s not for
-heavy-G work; ours could deliver
-only one-half G at max and was
-doing less than one-quarter now.
-Which meant the ship was starting
-off slower than most ground cars.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>But the beam would fire for
-hours, building up to a terminal
-velocity of fifteen miles a second
-and carrying the ship far, far away
-from lonely Joe Hansen.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Except that we were tied together,
-of course.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I was very grateful then for the
-weeks I’d practiced space-roping,
-though I’d never won any prizes
-with it, because without thinking I
-started to whip my line very carefully.
-And on the third try, just as
-it was getting pretty straight, I managed
-to settle it in a notch in one
-outside end of Trompled Love. After
-that I took up strain on the line
-as gradually as I could, letting it
-friction through my gloves for as
-long as I could before putting all
-my mass on it—because although
-one-quarter G isn’t much, it piles
-up in a few seconds to quite a jerk.
-I spread that jerk into several little
-ones.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Well, the last jerk came and the
-line didn’t part and Trompled Love
-didn’t crumple much, though the
-Shaula-light showed me several
-very nasty-looking wrinkles in it.
-And there I was trailing along after
-the ship, though out to one side,
-and feeling about as much strain on
-the line as if I were hanging from
-a cliff on the moon, and knowing
-I was going about five feet a second
-faster every second.</p>
-
-<hr class='c005' />
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_4_0_4 c006'>My idea wanting to be out
-to the side (and bless my
-impulses for realizing it was the
-one important thing!) was to keep
-my line and myself out of the beam.
-An ionic jet doesn’t look hot from
-the side. But from straight on it’s
-a lot brighter than an arc light—it’s
-almost as tight as a laser beam—and
-I didn’t want to think about
-what it would do to me, even trailing
-as I was a hundred yards aft.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Though of course long before it
-had ruined me, it would have disintegrated
-my line.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>My being out to the side was putting
-the ship off balance on its jet
-and presumably throwing its course
-toward base and Shaula-near little
-by little into error. But that was
-the least of my worries, believe me.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I thought for a bit and remembered
-I could talk to Jeff over my
-suit radio. I decided to try it, not
-without misgivings.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I tongued it on and said, “Jeff.
-Oh, Jeff. I’m out here. You forgot
-me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I was going to say some more,
-but just then he broke in, angry and
-so loud it made my helmet ring,
-with, “Joseph! Did you hear anything
-then?” A pause, then, “Well,
-clean the wax out of your ears,
-stupid, because I did! I think we
-got an enemy out there!”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Another and longer pause, while
-my blood curdled a bit thicker,
-then, “Well, okay, Joseph, I’ll go
-along with you this time. But if I
-hear the enemy once more, I’m
-going to suit up and take a rifle and
-sit in the airlock door until I’ve
-potted him.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I tongued the radio off quick,
-fearful I’d sneeze or something. I
-had only one faint consolation:
-Joseph seemed to be a bit on my
-side, or maybe he was just lazy.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I thought some more, a mite
-frantic-like now, and after a while
-I said to myself, <i>Been going five
-minutes now, so I’m doing about
-a quarter of a mile a second—that’s
-fifteen miles a minute, wow!—but
-out here velocities are purely
-relative. My suit does a little better
-than a quarter G full on. Okay.
-I’ll jet to the ship.</i></p>
-
-<p class='c004'>No sooner said than acted on—I
-was beginning to rely too much
-on impulse now. The suit jet killed
-my false weight at once and I was
-off, mighty careful to aim myself
-along my line or a little outside it,
-so as not to wander over into the
-beam.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Pretty soon the tail and Trompled
-Love were getting noticeably
-bigger.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Then a lot bigger.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Then my suit fuel ran out.</p>
-
-<hr class='c005' />
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_4_0_4 c006'>I’d built up enough velocity so
-that I was still gaining on the
-ship for a few seconds. In fact, I
-almost made it. My gauntlet was
-about to close on Trompled Love
-when the ship started slowly to pull
-away. Oh, it was frustrating!</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I remembered then what I should
-have a lot earlier, and grabbed for
-the ship-end of my line so as not
-to lose the distance I’d gained—and
-in my haste I knocked it away
-from me. The only good thing was
-that I didn’t knock it out of the
-notch.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Now I was losing space to the
-ship faster and faster. Yet all I
-could do was reel in the me-end of
-the line as fast as I could. Suddenly
-the whole line straightened and
-gave me a bigger jerk than I’d intended.
-I could see Trompled Love
-crumple a little. And I was swinging
-just a bit, like a pendulum.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I used a glove-friction to spread
-the rest of the jerk, but still I was
-at the end of my line and Trompled
-Love had crumpled a bit more before
-I was coasting along with the
-ship again.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>My side of Trompled Love was
-bent back maybe twenty degrees.
-The eye of the beam shone at me
-from the tail like a pale blue moon.
-For quite a while it brightened and
-dimmed as I tick-tock swung.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Meanwhile I was beating my
-skull for not having thought earlier
-of the obvious slow-but-safe way of
-doing it, instead of that lunatic
-suit-jetting. I once heard a psychologist
-say we’re mental slaves to
-power-machinery and I guess he
-had something.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Clearly all I had to do was climb
-hand-over-hand up the line to the
-ship. At moon gravity that would
-be easy. If I should get tired I only
-had to clamp on and rest.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>So I waited for my emotions to
-settle a bit, and then I reached
-along the line and gave a smooth,
-medium-strength heave.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Maybe there is something to ESP—at
-least in a devilish sort of way—because
-I picked the exact
-moment when Jeff decided to feed the
-beam more juice.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>There was a <i>big</i> jerk and I saw
-Trompled Love crumple a lot, so
-that it was pointing more than
-forty-five degrees aft.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Now there was a steady pull on
-the line like I was hanging from a
-cliff on Mars. And the eye of the
-beam was a blue moon not so pale—in
-fact more like a sizzling blue
-sun seen through a light fog.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>After that I just didn’t have the
-heart to try the climb again. Once
-I started to draw myself up, very
-cautious, but on the first handhold
-I seemed to feel along the line
-Trompled Love crumpling some
-more and I quit for good.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I figured that at this boost Jeff
-would be up to proper speed for
-Shaula-near in less than two hours.
-Well, I had suit-oxy and refrigeration
-for longer than that.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Of course if Jeff decided not to
-cut the beam on schedule, maybe
-with the idea of eloping with Joseph
-to the next solar system—well,
-I’d discover then whether suit-oxy
-running out would stimulate me to
-try the climb again alongside the
-beam.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>(Or I could wait until he got her
-up near the speed of light, when by
-the General Theory of Relativity the
-line ought to be shortened enough
-so that I could hop aboard if I were
-sudden enough about it.... <i>No, Joe
-Hansen, you quit that</i>, I told myself,
-<i>you don’t want to die with the gears
-in your head all stripped</i>.)</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Thinking about the beam got me
-wondering exactly how close I was
-to it. I unshipped my suit-antenna
-and pulled it out to full length—about
-eight feet—and fished
-around with it in the direction of
-the beam.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Nothing seemed to happen to it.
-It didn’t glow or anything; but I
-suddenly got a little electric shock,
-and when I drew it back I could
-see three inches of the tip were gone
-and the next couple inches were
-pitted. So much for curiosity.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Next I reattached the antenna to
-my suit—which turned out to be
-a lot more troublesome job than
-unshipping it—and tongued on
-the radio with the idea of listening
-in on Jeff.</p>
-
-<hr class='c005' />
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_4_0_4 c006'>Right away I heard him say,
-“Wake up, Joseph! I’m going
-to tell you your faults again. I got
-a new way of cataloguing them—chronologically.
-Begin with childhood.
-You hitched sled-rides on
-airplanes. That was bad, Joseph,
-that was against the law. If the man
-had caught you doing it, if he’d
-seen you whizzing along there back
-of him, he’d have had every right
-to shoot you down in cold blood.
-Life is hard, Joseph, life is merciless....”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Right then I felt a tickle in my
-throat.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I tried quick to shut off the radio,
-but it is remarkably difficult to
-tongue anything when you have a
-cough coming. It came out finally
-in a series of squeaky glubs.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>“Snap to, Joseph, and listen hard,”
-I heard Jeff say. “It’s started again.
-Animal noises this time. You know
-if they make spacesuits for black
-panthers, Joseph?”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I tongued off the radio quick,
-before the follow-up cough came.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I didn’t have anything left to do
-now but think. So I thought about
-Jeff—how there seemed to be
-one Jeff who hated my guts and
-another Jeff who idolized me and
-another Jeff sneaking around in a
-jungle of sabertooth tigers and ...
-heck, there was probably a good
-twenty Jeffs sitting around inside
-his skull, some in light, some in
-darkness, but all of them watching
-each other and arguing together all
-the time. It was an odd way to
-think of a personality—a sort of
-perpetual <i>Kaffeeklatsch</i>—but it
-had its points. Maybe some of the
-little guys weren’t Jeffs at all, but
-his father and mother and a caveman
-ancestor or two and maybe
-some great-great-grandchild butting
-in now and then from the future....</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Well, I saw that speculation was
-getting out of hand so, taking a
-tip from Jeff, I began to count my
-own sins.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>It took quite a while. Some of
-them were pretty interesting reading,
-almost enough to take my mind
-off my predicament, but I tired of
-it finally.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Then I began to count the stars.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>It was really the longest two
-hours plus I ever spent, except maybe
-the time my first big girl disappeared.
-But I don’t know. The experiences
-are hard to compare.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I was about halfway through the
-stars when I went weightless. For
-an awful instant I thought the line
-had parted at last, but then I looked
-toward the ship and saw the bright
-little moon was gone.</p>
-
-<hr class='c005' />
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_4_0_4 c006'>Right away I gave a couple of
-tugs on the line and began to
-close slowly with the tail. No trouble
-at all—actually my only difficulty
-was resisting the temptation
-to build up more momentum, which
-would have resulted in a crash landing.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I softed-in on Trompled Love
-okay, except there was a big spark.
-The beam must have charged me
-good. Then I worked my way to
-the true hull. After that there were
-handholds.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Finally I got to a porthole in the
-living quarters, and I looked in, and
-there was Jeff jawing away at my
-empty seat. I put my helmet against
-the hull and very faintly I heard
-him say, “Joseph, I’m still worried
-about the enemy. I keep thinking I
-hear him or it. I’m going to make
-us some coffee, so we’ll stay real
-alert. You break out the guns.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I don’t suppose anyone ever
-moved quite so quietly <i>and</i> so quickly
-in a spacesuit as I did then. I
-got in the airlock, I got her up
-to pressure, I got unsuited—and
-all in less than five minutes, I’m
-sure. Maybe less than four.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I swam to the cabin. It was
-empty. I slid into my seat just as
-Jeff floated in with the coffee.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>He went real pale when he
-spotted me. I saw there might be
-some trouble this time with the
-Joseph-Joe transition. But I knew
-the only way to play it was real
-cool. I nested there in my seat as
-if I hadn’t a worry or urge in the
-world—though my nerves and
-throat were just screaming for a
-squirt of that coffee.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>“Joe!” he squeaked at last. “Migod,
-you gave me an awful scare.
-I thought you’d done a bunk, I
-thought, you’d spaced yourself, I
-kept picturing you outside the ship.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>“Why no, Jeff,” I answered quietly.
-“One way or another, I’ve been
-in this seat ever since take-off.”</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>His brow wrinkled as he thought
-about that.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>I looked at the board and noticed
-that our terminal trip-velocity
-read fifteen miles a second. My, my.</p>
-
-<p class='c004'>Finally Jeff said, “That’s right,
-you have.” And then, just a shade
-unhappily, “I might have known.
-You always tell the truth, Joe—you’re
-perfect.”</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c007'>
-    <div><span class='small'><b>END</b></span></div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-  <h2 class='c008'><b>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</b></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c009'>This etext was produced from Worlds of
-Tomorrow, August 1963. Extensive research
-did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
-copyright on this publication was renewed.</p>
-
-<p class='c010'>Punctuation has been normalized. Spelling and hyphenation
-have been retained as they were in the
-original book.</p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Hitch in Space, by Fritz Leiber
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