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+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.
+
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+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #60595 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60595)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Half Around Pluto, by Manly Wade Wellman
-
-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
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Half Around Pluto
-
-Author: Manly Wade Wellman
-
-Release Date: October 30, 2019 [eBook #60595]
-[Most recently updated: March 29, 2021]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALF AROUND PLUTO ***
-
-
-
-
- HALF AROUND PLUTO
-
- BY MANLY WADE WELLMAN
-
- _Pluto was a coffin world, airless,
- utterly cold. And they had ten days to
- reach Base Camp, ten thousand miles away._
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Worlds of If Science Fiction, December 1958.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-Their glassite space helmets fogged, and their metal glove joints
-stiffened in the incredible surface cold: but the two men who could
-work finished their job. In the black sky glistened the little arclight
-of the sun, a sixteen-hundredth of the blaze that fell on Earth. Around
-them sulked Pluto's crags and gullies, sheathed with the hard-frozen
-pallor that had been Pluto's atmosphere, eons ago.
-
-From the wrecked cylinder of the scout rocket they had dragged two
-interior girders, ready-curved at the ends. These, clamped side by side
-with transverse brackets and decked with bulkhead metal, managed to
-look like a sled.
-
-At the rear they set a salvaged engine unit. For steering, they rigged
-a boom shaft to warp the runners right or left. For cargo, they piled
-the sled with full containers, ration boxes, the foil tent, what
-instruments they could detach and carry, armfuls of heat-tools, a
-crowbar, a hatchet, a few other items.
-
-Moving back from the finished work, one of them stumbled against the
-other. Instantly the two puffy, soot-black shapes were crouched, gloved
-fists up, fierce in the system's duskiest corner.
-
-Then the moment passed. Warily, helmets turned toward each other, they
-went back in the half-stripped wreck.
-
-In the still airtight control room, lighted by one bulb, their officer
-stirred on his bedstrip. His tunic had been pulled off, his broken left
-arm and collarbone set and splinted. Under a fillet of bandage, his
-gaunt young face looked pale, but he had his wits back.
-
-"The appropriate question," he said, "is 'What happened?'"
-
-The two men were removing their helmets. "Conked and crashed, sir,"
-said Jenks, the smaller one, uncovering a sallow, hollow-cheeked face.
-
-Lieutenant Wofforth sat up, supporting himself on his sound arm. "How
-long have I been out?"
-
-"Maybe forty hours, sir. Delirious. Corbett and me did the best we
-could. Take it easy, sir," he said as Wofforth began to get up. "Lie
-back. We've done what Emergency Plan Six says--bolted a sled together
-and coupled on a sound engine unit for power."
-
-"Quite a haul back to base," said Wofforth, almost cheerfully. His
-eyes were bright, as though he savored the idea. "About halfway around
-Pluto. We'd better start now, or they'll get tired of waiting."
-
-"They've gone, sir," Corbett growled before Jenks could gesture him to
-silence. He was beefy, slit-eyed. "We saw the jets going sunward this
-morning."
-
-Wofforth winced. "Gone," he said. "That's right. I didn't stop to
-think. You said forty hours.... They couldn't wait that long. We're
-past opposition already, getting farther away all the time. They had to
-go, or they wouldn't have made it."
-
-He stood up uncertainly and reached for his ripped tunic. Corbett
-stepped over and helped him slide his uninjured arm into the right
-sleeve, then to fasten and drape the tunic over his splinted left arm
-and shoulder.
-
-"We'll just have to get back to Base Camp and wait," said Wofforth
-grimly.
-
-"Sir," said Jenks, "our radio is gone. I tried to patch it up, but it
-was gone. When they didn't get a signal, they must have thought--"
-
-"Nonsense!" Wofforth broke in. "They'll have left us supplies. They
-couldn't wait, signal or none. Our job is to get back, and stick it out
-there until they come for us."
-
-He sat at the control and began to write in the log book. Corbett and
-Jenks drifted together at the other end of the room.
-
-"You meat-head," snarled Jenks under his breath. "You knew he took the
-berth to Pluto because the first mate was a lady--Lya Stromminger."
-
-"He had to know they were gone," protested Corbett, equally fierce.
-
-"Not flat like you gave it. He came here to be with her. Now she's
-jetted away without him. How does a man feel when a woman's done that--"
-
-"Stop blathering, you two, and help me into my suit," called Wofforth,
-rising again. "We're going to rev up that sled engine and get out of
-here!"
-
- * * * * *
-
-Outside, the sled lay ready under the frigid sky. Wofforth tramped
-around it, leaned over and poked the load.
-
-"Too much," said his voice in their radios. "Keep the synthesizer, the
-tent, these two ration boxes. Wait, keep the crowbar and the hatchet.
-Dump the rest."
-
-"We travel that light, sir?" said Jenks doubtfully.
-
-"I've been figuring," said Wofforth. "We're on the far side of Pluto
-from Base Camp. That makes ten thousand miles, more or less. Pluto's
-day is nineteen hours and a minute or so, Earth time. We can travel
-only by what they humorously call daylight. And we'd better get there
-in ten days--a thousand miles every nine and a half hours--or maybe we
-won't get there at all."
-
-"How's that, sir?" asked Corbett.
-
-"The heaters in these suits," Wofforth reminded him. "Two hundred and
-forty hours of efficiency, and that's all. Well, it's noon. Let's take
-off."
-
-His voice shook. He was still weak. Jenks helped him sit on the two
-lashed ration boxes, and slung a mooring strap across his knees. Then
-Jenks took the steering boom, and Corbett bent to start the engine.
-
-When the arclight sun set in the west, they had traveled more than four
-hours over country not too rugged to slow them much. Darkness closed
-in fast while Jenks and Corbett pitched the pyramidal tent of metal
-foil and clamped it down solidly. They spread and zipped in the ground
-fabric, set up lights and heater inside, and began to pipe in thawed
-gases from the drifts outside.
-
-After their scanty meal, Corbett and Jenks sought their bedstrips,
-on opposite sides of the tent. Wofforth tended the atomic heater for
-minutes, until the sound of deep breathing told him that his companions
-were asleep.
-
-Then he put on his spacesuit, clumsy with his single hand to close
-seams. He picked up sextant and telescope, and slipped out into the
-Plutonian night.
-
-It was as utterly black as the bottom of a pond of ink. But above
-Wofforth shone the faithful stars, in the constellations mapped by the
-first star-gazers of long ago. He made observations, checked for time
-and position. He chuckled inside his helmet, as though congratulating
-himself. Back in the tent, he opened the log book and wrote:
-
- _First day: Course due west. Run 410 mi. To go 9590 mi. approx.
- Supplies adeq. Spirits good._
-
-Wriggling out of his space gear, he lay down, asleep almost before his
-weary limbs relaxed.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Everyone was awake before dawn. They made coffee on the heater, and
-broke out protein biscuits for breakfast.
-
-As the tiny sun winked into view over the horizon, they loaded the
-sled. Corbett slouched toward the idling engine at the tail of the sled.
-
-"No, get on amidships," said Wofforth. "I'll take over engine."
-
-"My job--" began Corbett.
-
-"You're relieved. Strap yourself on the ration boxes. That's right.
-Jenks, steer again. Make for the level ahead."
-
-With his right hand Wofforth ran a length of pliable cable around his
-waist and through a ring-bolt on the decking. He touched the engine
-controls, and they pulled away from camp.
-
-The sled coursed over great knoll-like swellings of the terrain, coated
-with the dull-pale frozen atmosphere. Beyond, it gained speed on a vast
-flat plain, almost as smooth as a desert of glass.
-
-"What's this big rink. Lieutenant?" asked Jenks.
-
-"Maybe a sea, or maybe just a sunken area, full of solid gases. Stand
-by the helm, I'm going to gun a few more M. P. H. out of her."
-
-"No wind," grunted Corbett. "Nothing moving except us. The floor of
-hell."
-
-"If you was in hell, the rest of us would be better off," said Jenks
-sourly.
-
-Wofforth began to sing, though he did not feel like it:
-
- _Trim your nails and scrape your face,
- They're all on the Other Side of space!
- Tokyo--Baltimore, Maryland--
- Hong Kong--Paris--Samarkand--
- Tokyo--London--Troy--Fort Worth--
- The happy towns of the Planet Earth...._
-
-At camp that night he wrote in the log book:
-
- _Second Day: Course due west. Run 1014 mi. To go 8576 mi. approx.
- Supplies adeq. Spirits fair...._
-
-
-"What's for supper?" bawled Corbett, entering. "I could eat a horse."
-
-"That'd be cannibalism," said Jenks at once.
-
-"Yah, you splinter! Don't eat any lizards, then."
-
-_Spirits good_, Wofforth corrected his entry, and closed the log book.
-He thought of Lya Stromminger. She was a most efficient officer. Her
-hair was black as night on Pluto, and her eyes as bright as the faraway
-sun.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Wofforth wrote in his log book:
-
- _Fifth day: Course north, west, then southwest. Curving thru
- mountainous territory. Run 1066 mi. but direct progress toward base
- camp not exceeding 950. To go, 6260 mi. approx. Supplies short.
- Spirits fair._
-
-He wrote in his log book:
-
- _Seventh day: Course west, southwest, west, northwest, west. Run
- 1108 mi. To go 4090 mi. approx. Supplies low. Spirits fair._
-
-He wrote in his log book:
-
- _Ninth day: Course northwest by west, west. Run 1108 mi. To go 2030
- mi. approx. Supplies low. Spirits low...._
-
-"Lieutenant," said Jenks from across the tent, as Wofforth closed the
-book.
-
-"Well?"
-
-"We know you're in command. This party and all of Pluto. But we ask
-permission to state our case."
-
-"What case is your case?" demanded Wofforth, rising. "I'm doing my best
-to get you back to Base Camp."
-
-"Sure," said Corbett. "Sure. But why Base Camp?"
-
-"You know why."
-
-"That's right, we know why," agreed Jenks, and Corbett grinned in his
-ten days' tussock of beard.
-
-"They'll have left supplies for us," Wofforth went on. "Shelter and
-food and fuel and instruments. They'll expect us to reach Base Camp and
-hold it down for the next attempt to reach Pluto."
-
-"We know why," repeated Jenks. "And that's not why, lieutenant. Let me
-talk, sir. It's a dead man talking."
-
-"You won't die," snapped Wofforth. "I'll get you both there alive."
-
-He stepped to where, in one corner, he had managed a bath--a hollow in
-the frozen ground, lined by pushing the floor fabric into it. From the
-heater he ran tepid, clean water into it. He clipped a mirror to the
-tent foil, searched out an automatic razor, and began to shave his own
-dark young thatch of beard.
-
-"You're proving my point, lieutenant," said Jenks. "Policing up your
-face to look pretty."
-
-"Why not?" growled Wofforth, mowing another swath of whiskers.
-
-"No reason why not. Ten, twenty years from now they'll find your
-body--whenever the inner orbits get to where they can boom off another
-expedition. You'll look young and clean-shaved. You know who'll weep."
-
-Wofforth lowered the razor in his good hand and glared at the two. They
-grinned in the bright light opposite him. They looked as if they hoped
-he'd see the joke.
-
-"I said it's a dying man that's talking," said Jenks again. "Won't you
-let me say my dying say, lieutenant? Let's all die honest."
-
-"I'm going to get you there," Wofforth insisted.
-
-"Ah, now," said Corbett, as though persuading a naughty child. "You
-think they've left twenty years' worth of supplies to keep us going?
-The ship didn't carry that much, even if they left it all." He grinned
-mirthlessly. "I can figure what you're figuring, lieutenant," he went
-on, with a touch of Jenks' sly manner. "You die, young and brave.
-You'll shave up again before you lie down and let go. And when the
-next shipload arrives there'll be you, lying like a statue of your
-good-looking young self, frozen stiff. Am I right?"
-
-Corbett was right, Wofforth admitted to himself. The man was more than
-a great meaty lump, after all, to see another man's unspoken thought so
-clearly.
-
-"Then," Jenks took it up, "First Mate Lya Stromminger will have a look.
-She may command the new expedition. She'll be promoted away up to
-Admiral or higher--twenty years of brilliant service--gone gray around
-the edges, but still a lovely lady. There you'll lie before her eyes,
-young and brave as you was when she deserted you. She'll cry, won't
-she? And hot tears can't thaw you out or wake you up--"
-
-"Shut your heads, both of you!" shouted Wofforth, so fierce and loud
-that the foil tent wall vibrated as with a gale in the airless night.
-
-But they had guessed true. He'd wanted to be found at Base Camp. He'd
-wanted Lya Stromminger to know, some day, that she'd blasted off and
-left behind the man most worthy of all men on all worlds....
-
-"Everybody takes a hot bath tonight," said Wofforth. "We'll all sleep
-better for it. Tomorrow's our last day on the trail."
-
-"To do two thousand miles?" said Jenks.
-
-"To do all of that. The expedition mapped an area at least that wide
-around Base Camp, and it's slick and smooth. We can almost slide in."
-
-"All slick and smooth but just this side of Base Camp, lieutenant,"
-said Jenks.
-
-"How do you mean?"
-
-"That string of craters. Don't you remember? It's just this side--east
-of Base Camp. This sled'll never go over that, sir."
-
-"Nor around," Corbett put in. "We'd have to detour maybe three thousand
-miles. And the heaters in our suits won't last."
-
-"I know about the craters," said Wofforth. "Well take care of them when
-we reach them."
-
-Stripping, he lowered his body into the makeshift tub and began to
-scrub himself one-handed.
-
- * * * * *
-
-He wakened in the morning to the sound of furious argument.
-
-Corbett and Jenks, of course. A trifle--division of the breakfast
-ration, or of the breakfast chores--had set off their nerves like
-trains of explosive. Even as Wofforth rose from his bedstrip, Corbett
-swung a cobble-like fist at Jenks' gaunt, grimacing face. The nimbler,
-smaller man ducked and sidled away. Corbett took a lumbering step to
-close in on his enemy, and Jenks darted a hand to his belt behind, then
-brought it forward again with an electro-automatic pistol.
-
-"I've been keeping this for you!" Jenks shrilled. "I'll just diminish
-the population of Pluto by thirty-three and one-third percent!"
-
-"Hold it!" bellowed Wofforth.
-
-He was too late. A stream of bullets chattered through Corbett's body,
-folding him over and ripping through the paper-thin wall of the tent.
-Air whistled out; the tent began to collapse.
-
-Jenks, pinned under Corbett's body, was squealing like a pig.
-"Lieutenant, help me--!"
-
-Wofforth saw in an instant that the wall could not be patched in time;
-the bullets had torn loose an irregular strip, pressure had done the
-rest: even now, the tent was only a few seconds away from complete
-collapse. As he stumbled across the floor toward the spacesuits, his
-heart was laboring and his chest straining for breath. Spots swam in
-front of his eyes. He found the topmost spacesuit by touch, and fumbled
-for the helmet. The tent drifted down on his head in soft, murderous
-folds. He opened the valve, shoved his face into the helmet, and gulped
-precious oxygen. His dulled awareness brightened again, momentarily;
-but he knew he was still a dead man unless he could get into the suit
-before pressure fell completely. Numbed fingers plucked at the suit
-opening. Somehow he got the awkward garment over his legs, closed and
-locked the torso, pulled down the helmet....
-
-He was lying in darkness, with a low, steady hiss of oxygen in his
-ears. He rolled over weakly, got to his feet. He turned on his helmet
-light. He was propping up a gray cave of metal foil, that fell in
-stiff creases all around him. At his feet were the bodies of Jenks and
-Corbett. Both were dead.
-
-After a while, clumsily, painfully, he dragged the two corpses free of
-the tent. He found the heater and thawed a hole in the frozen surface,
-big enough for both. He tumbled them in, then undercut the edges of the
-hole with the heater, so that chunks fell in and covered them. While
-he watched, the cloud of vapor he had made began to settle, slowly
-congealing on the broken surface and blurring it over again. In a
-year, there would be no mark here to show that the surface had been
-disturbed. In a thousand years, it would still be the same.
-
-In the first ray of dawn he flung all supplies from the sled except the
-fuel containers. He checked the engine, and started it.
-
-Into his belt-bag he thrust the log book. Nothing else went aboard the
-sled--no food, no water container, no tools, instruments or oxygen
-tanks. The tent he left lying there, with all that had been carried
-inside the night before.
-
-As the sun rose clear of the distant rim of the plain to eastward, he
-rigged a line to the steering boom, then lashed himself securely within
-reach of the engine. Steering by the taut line, he started westward,
-slowly at first, then faster. It was as he had hoped. The lightened
-sled attained and held a greater speed than on any previous day.
-
-"I'll make it," he said aloud, with nobody else to listen on all Pluto.
-"I'll make it!"
-
-Faster he urged the engine's rhythm, and faster. He clocked its speed
-by the indicators on the housing. A hundred and fifty miles an hour. A
-hundred and sixty; not enough. Whipping the boom line tight around his
-waist to hold his course steady, he sighted between the upcurve of the
-runner forward. There was level, smooth-frozen country, mile upon mile.
-He speeded up to one hundred and seventy-five miles an hour. More. The
-sled hummed at every joining.
-
-At noon, he had done a good thousand miles. At mid-afternoon, sixteen
-hundred. Two and a half hours of visibility left, and more than four
-hundred miles to go.
-
-"I can do those on my head," muttered Wofforth to himself, and then,
-far in the distance, the flat rim of the horizon was flat no longer.
-
-It had sprung up jagged, full of points and bulges. Speeding toward it,
-he steered by the line around his waist while he cut his engine. He
-came close at fifty miles an hour, almost a crawl.
-
-Some ancient volcanic action had thrown up those mountains, like a rank
-of close-drawn sentries. The sled could not cross them anywhere. Still
-reducing speed, Wofforth drew close to a notch, but the notch gave into
-a crater, a great shallow saucer two miles in diameter and filled with
-shadows below, so that Wofforth could not gauge its depth. Opposite,
-another notch--perhaps once the crater had been a lake, with water
-running in and out. If he had come there at noon, he could have seen
-the bottom, and perhaps--
-
-"But it isn't noon." Wofforth was talking to himself again. His voice
-sounded thin and petulant in his own ears. "By noon tomorrow, the heat
-will be out of this suit."
-
-He stopped the sled, unlashed himself and trudged to the notch. He
-stood in it, looking down, then across.
-
-The little bright jewel of the sun, sagging toward the horizon, showed
-him the upper reaches of the crater's interior, pitched at an angle of
-perhaps fifty degrees.
-
-Even if it had been noon, it would have been no use. The sled could
-never climb a slope like that.
-
-Then he looked again, this way and that. He nodded inside his helmet.
-
-He might as well try.
-
-Returning to the sled, he started the engine and lashed himself fast
-again. He steered away from the crater, and around. He made a great
-looping journey of twenty miles or so across the plain, building speed
-all the time.
-
-As he rounded the rear curve of his course, he was driving along at two
-hundred and sixty miles an hour, and he had to apply pressure to the
-boom with both hand and knees to point the sled back straight for the
-notch. Straightening his humming vehicle into a headlong course, he
-leaned forward and sighted between the upcurved runners.
-
-"Now!" he urged himself, and watched the break in the crater wall rush
-toward him.
-
-It greatened, yawned. He leaped through, and with a groaning gasp of
-prayer he dragged the boom over to steer the sled right.
-
- * * * * *
-
-It worked, as he had not dared hope. The runners bounced, bit. Then he
-was racing around the inside of the great cup's rim, like a hurtling
-bubble on the inner surface of a whirlpool's funnel. Two miles across,
-three miles and more on the half diameter--the engine laboring up to
-three hundred miles an hour, centrifugal force holding it there--
-
-Little more than thirty seconds raced by when he knew he had won. He
-saw the far notch growing near. He came to it in a last booming rush,
-and hurled his whole weight against the boom to face the runners into
-the notch.
-
-Under the low-dropping sun, he and his sled shot into open country
-beyond the range.
-
-His right arm felt dead from shoulder to fingertip. His head roared
-and drummed with the racing of his blood. His face had tired spots in
-it, where muscles he had never used before had locked into an agonized
-grimace.
-
-On he sped, straight west, gasping and gurgling and mumbling in crazy
-triumph.
-
-An hour, an anticlimactic hour wherein the sled almost steered itself
-over the smoothest of plain, and up ahead he spied the black outline of
-Base Camp.
-
-It was a sprawling, low structure, prefabricated metal and plastic and
-insulation, black outside to gather what heat might come from outer
-space. It held aloof on the dull frozen plain from the irregular stain
-where the expedition ship had braked off with one set of rockets and
-had soared away with another set. Larger, more familiar, grew Base Camp
-with each second of approach. Shakily Wofforth cut his engine, slowed
-from high speed to medium, to a hundred miles an hour, to sixty, to
-fifty. He made a final circle around Base Camp, and let it coast in
-with the engine off, to within twenty yards of the main lock panel.
-
-He got up, on legs that shook inside his boots. He felt his heart
-still racing, his head still ringing. He sighed once, and walked
-close, his gauntlet fumbling at the release button on the lock panel.
-
-But the button did not respond.
-
-"Jammed," he said. "No--locked."
-
-He couldn't get in. He had reached Base Camp, but he could not get in.
-They hadn't counted on his return. They'd gone off and left Base Camp
-locked up.
-
-He sagged against the lock panel, and cursed once, with an utter and
-furious resignation.
-
-He felt himself slipping. He was going to faint. His legs would not
-hold him up. He was slipping forward--seemed to be sinking into the
-massive and unyielding outer surface of Base Camp. It was a dream. Or
-it was death.
-
-He did not lose all hold on his awareness. He had a sense of lying at
-full length, and blinding light flashes that made his eyelids jump. And
-a tug somewhere, as though his helmet was coming off. He would have put
-out a hand to see, but his left arm was broken, and his right arm limp
-from weariness.
-
-"You're back," said a voice he knew, a voice strained with wonder. "You
-managed. I knew you would."
-
-"Now," said Wofforth, "I know it's a dream. We dream after we die."
-
-A hand was cupped behind his neck, lifting him to a sitting position.
-He felt warm fluid at his lips. "It's no dream," said the voice
-beseechingly. "Look at me."
-
-"I don't dare. The dream will go away."
-
-But he opened his eyes and looked at her hair like Plutonian night, her
-eyes like bright stars. "Lya," he said. "I'm going to call you Lya."
-
-"Please call me Lya."
-
-"I'd be bound to dream about you. I've dreamed about you so much....
-_Owww!_"
-
-He got his right hand up to cherish his tingling cheek.
-
-"So you felt that," she said. "Now you know you're awake. Or must I
-slap you again?"
-
-"I'm sorry, Madame."
-
-"You called me Lya. Can you stand up? I'll help you."
-
-She helped him. He stood up, there in the admission chamber of Base
-Camp. Lya Stromminger was smiling, and she was crying, too.
-
-"You didn't go away," he said. "You're still here." The weight of his
-odyssey, half around Pluto, was beginning to stagger him.
-
-"No, I stayed. I knew you'd come back. I knew Pluto couldn't kill you
-or keep you from coming back."
-
-He drank more from the cup she held to his lips.
-
-"We'll wait together for them to come with the next expedition," she
-promised him.
-
-"Twenty years? Supplies--"
-
-"There'll be plenty. Don't you know about Pluto? Didn't those craters,
-those old volcanoes, tell you?"
-
-Thinking of how he had crossed the crater, Wofforth shuddered.
-
-"Pluto is colder than anybody even guessed--outside. But inside are
-the internal fires--like all the solid planets. We made our tests and
-we can tap them. I kept the instruments for that. It means we'll have
-power, and can make our synthetic foods and so on for as long as we
-need them. You and I are the inhabitants here--"
-
-He stumbled to a chair and sat. "Twenty years--" he said.
-
-Her arm was still around him. Her hair brushed his cheek. "It won't be
-long. We have so much to say to each other."
-
-
-
-
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-<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Half Around Pluto, by Manly Wade Wellman</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
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-</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Half Around Pluto</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Manly Wade Wellman</div>
-<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 30, 2019 [eBook #60595]<br />
-[Most recently updated: March 29, 2021]</div>
-<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
-<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div>
-<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALF AROUND PLUTO ***</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="349" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-<h1>HALF AROUND PLUTO</h1>
-
-<h2>BY MANLY WADE WELLMAN</h2>
-
-<p class="ph1"><i>Pluto was a coffin world, airless,<br />
-utterly cold. And they had ten days to<br />
-reach Base Camp, ten thousand miles away.</i></p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Worlds of If Science Fiction, December 1958.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>Their glassite space helmets fogged, and their metal glove joints
-stiffened in the incredible surface cold: but the two men who could
-work finished their job. In the black sky glistened the little arclight
-of the sun, a sixteen-hundredth of the blaze that fell on Earth. Around
-them sulked Pluto's crags and gullies, sheathed with the hard-frozen
-pallor that had been Pluto's atmosphere, eons ago.</p>
-
-<p>From the wrecked cylinder of the scout rocket they had dragged two
-interior girders, ready-curved at the ends. These, clamped side by side
-with transverse brackets and decked with bulkhead metal, managed to
-look like a sled.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="650" height="471" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<p>At the rear they set a salvaged engine unit. For steering, they rigged
-a boom shaft to warp the runners right or left. For cargo, they piled
-the sled with full containers, ration boxes, the foil tent, what
-instruments they could detach and carry, armfuls of heat-tools, a
-crowbar, a hatchet, a few other items.</p>
-
-<p>Moving back from the finished work, one of them stumbled against the
-other. Instantly the two puffy, soot-black shapes were crouched, gloved
-fists up, fierce in the system's duskiest corner.</p>
-
-<p>Then the moment passed. Warily, helmets turned toward each other, they
-went back in the half-stripped wreck.</p>
-
-<p>In the still airtight control room, lighted by one bulb, their officer
-stirred on his bedstrip. His tunic had been pulled off, his broken left
-arm and collarbone set and splinted. Under a fillet of bandage, his
-gaunt young face looked pale, but he had his wits back.</p>
-
-<p>"The appropriate question," he said, "is 'What happened?'"</p>
-
-<p>The two men were removing their helmets. "Conked and crashed, sir,"
-said Jenks, the smaller one, uncovering a sallow, hollow-cheeked face.</p>
-
-<p>Lieutenant Wofforth sat up, supporting himself on his sound arm. "How
-long have I been out?"</p>
-
-<p>"Maybe forty hours, sir. Delirious. Corbett and me did the best we
-could. Take it easy, sir," he said as Wofforth began to get up. "Lie
-back. We've done what Emergency Plan Six says&mdash;bolted a sled together
-and coupled on a sound engine unit for power."</p>
-
-<p>"Quite a haul back to base," said Wofforth, almost cheerfully. His
-eyes were bright, as though he savored the idea. "About halfway around
-Pluto. We'd better start now, or they'll get tired of waiting."</p>
-
-<p>"They've gone, sir," Corbett growled before Jenks could gesture him to
-silence. He was beefy, slit-eyed. "We saw the jets going sunward this
-morning."</p>
-
-<p>Wofforth winced. "Gone," he said. "That's right. I didn't stop to
-think. You said forty hours.... They couldn't wait that long. We're
-past opposition already, getting farther away all the time. They had to
-go, or they wouldn't have made it."</p>
-
-<p>He stood up uncertainly and reached for his ripped tunic. Corbett
-stepped over and helped him slide his uninjured arm into the right
-sleeve, then to fasten and drape the tunic over his splinted left arm
-and shoulder.</p>
-
-<p>"We'll just have to get back to Base Camp and wait," said Wofforth
-grimly.</p>
-
-<p>"Sir," said Jenks, "our radio is gone. I tried to patch it up, but it
-was gone. When they didn't get a signal, they must have thought&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Nonsense!" Wofforth broke in. "They'll have left us supplies. They
-couldn't wait, signal or none. Our job is to get back, and stick it out
-there until they come for us."</p>
-
-<p>He sat at the control and began to write in the log book. Corbett and
-Jenks drifted together at the other end of the room.</p>
-
-<p>"You meat-head," snarled Jenks under his breath. "You knew he took the
-berth to Pluto because the first mate was a lady&mdash;Lya Stromminger."</p>
-
-<p>"He had to know they were gone," protested Corbett, equally fierce.</p>
-
-<p>"Not flat like you gave it. He came here to be with her. Now she's
-jetted away without him. How does a man feel when a woman's done that&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Stop blathering, you two, and help me into my suit," called Wofforth,
-rising again. "We're going to rev up that sled engine and get out of
-here!"</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Outside, the sled lay ready under the frigid sky. Wofforth tramped
-around it, leaned over and poked the load.</p>
-
-<p>"Too much," said his voice in their radios. "Keep the synthesizer, the
-tent, these two ration boxes. Wait, keep the crowbar and the hatchet.
-Dump the rest."</p>
-
-<p>"We travel that light, sir?" said Jenks doubtfully.</p>
-
-<p>"I've been figuring," said Wofforth. "We're on the far side of Pluto
-from Base Camp. That makes ten thousand miles, more or less. Pluto's
-day is nineteen hours and a minute or so, Earth time. We can travel
-only by what they humorously call daylight. And we'd better get there
-in ten days&mdash;a thousand miles every nine and a half hours&mdash;or maybe we
-won't get there at all."</p>
-
-<p>"How's that, sir?" asked Corbett.</p>
-
-<p>"The heaters in these suits," Wofforth reminded him. "Two hundred and
-forty hours of efficiency, and that's all. Well, it's noon. Let's take
-off."</p>
-
-<p>His voice shook. He was still weak. Jenks helped him sit on the two
-lashed ration boxes, and slung a mooring strap across his knees. Then
-Jenks took the steering boom, and Corbett bent to start the engine.</p>
-
-<p>When the arclight sun set in the west, they had traveled more than four
-hours over country not too rugged to slow them much. Darkness closed
-in fast while Jenks and Corbett pitched the pyramidal tent of metal
-foil and clamped it down solidly. They spread and zipped in the ground
-fabric, set up lights and heater inside, and began to pipe in thawed
-gases from the drifts outside.</p>
-
-<p>After their scanty meal, Corbett and Jenks sought their bedstrips,
-on opposite sides of the tent. Wofforth tended the atomic heater for
-minutes, until the sound of deep breathing told him that his companions
-were asleep.</p>
-
-<p>Then he put on his spacesuit, clumsy with his single hand to close
-seams. He picked up sextant and telescope, and slipped out into the
-Plutonian night.</p>
-
-<p>It was as utterly black as the bottom of a pond of ink. But above
-Wofforth shone the faithful stars, in the constellations mapped by the
-first star-gazers of long ago. He made observations, checked for time
-and position. He chuckled inside his helmet, as though congratulating
-himself. Back in the tent, he opened the log book and wrote:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><i>First day: Course due west. Run 410 mi. To go 9590 mi. approx.
-Supplies adeq. Spirits good.</i></p></div>
-
-<p>Wriggling out of his space gear, he lay down, asleep almost before his
-weary limbs relaxed.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Everyone was awake before dawn. They made coffee on the heater, and
-broke out protein biscuits for breakfast.</p>
-
-<p>As the tiny sun winked into view over the horizon, they loaded the
-sled. Corbett slouched toward the idling engine at the tail of the sled.</p>
-
-<p>"No, get on amidships," said Wofforth. "I'll take over engine."</p>
-
-<p>"My job&mdash;" began Corbett.</p>
-
-<p>"You're relieved. Strap yourself on the ration boxes. That's right.
-Jenks, steer again. Make for the level ahead."</p>
-
-<p>With his right hand Wofforth ran a length of pliable cable around his
-waist and through a ring-bolt on the decking. He touched the engine
-controls, and they pulled away from camp.</p>
-
-<p>The sled coursed over great knoll-like swellings of the terrain, coated
-with the dull-pale frozen atmosphere. Beyond, it gained speed on a vast
-flat plain, almost as smooth as a desert of glass.</p>
-
-<p>"What's this big rink. Lieutenant?" asked Jenks.</p>
-
-<p>"Maybe a sea, or maybe just a sunken area, full of solid gases. Stand
-by the helm, I'm going to gun a few more M. P. H. out of her."</p>
-
-<p>"No wind," grunted Corbett. "Nothing moving except us. The floor of
-hell."</p>
-
-<p>"If you was in hell, the rest of us would be better off," said Jenks
-sourly.</p>
-
-<p>Wofforth began to sing, though he did not feel like it:</p>
-
-<div class="poetry">
- <div class="stanza">
- <div class="verse"><i>Trim your nails and scrape your face,</i></div>
- <div class="verse"><i>They're all on the Other Side of space!</i></div>
- <div class="verse"><i>Tokyo&mdash;Baltimore, Maryland&mdash;</i></div>
- <div class="verse"><i>Hong Kong&mdash;Paris&mdash;Samarkand&mdash;</i></div>
- <div class="verse"><i>Tokyo&mdash;London&mdash;Troy&mdash;Fort Worth&mdash;</i></div>
- <div class="verse"><i>The happy towns of the Planet Earth....</i></div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>At camp that night he wrote in the log book:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><i>Second Day: Course due west. Run 1014 mi. To go 8576 mi. approx.
-Supplies adeq. Spirits fair....</i></p></div>
-
-<p>"What's for supper?" bawled Corbett, entering. "I could eat a horse."</p>
-
-<p>"That'd be cannibalism," said Jenks at once.</p>
-
-<p>"Yah, you splinter! Don't eat any lizards, then."</p>
-
-<p><i>Spirits good</i>, Wofforth corrected his entry, and closed the log book.
-He thought of Lya Stromminger. She was a most efficient officer. Her
-hair was black as night on Pluto, and her eyes as bright as the faraway
-sun.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Wofforth wrote in his log book:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><i>Fifth day: Course north, west, then southwest. Curving thru
-mountainous territory. Run 1066 mi. but direct progress toward base
-camp not exceeding 950. To go, 6260 mi. approx. Supplies short.
-Spirits fair.</i></p></div>
-
-<p>He wrote in his log book:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><i>Seventh day: Course west, southwest, west, northwest, west. Run 1108
-mi. To go 4090 mi. approx. Supplies low. Spirits fair.</i></p></div>
-
-<p>He wrote in his log book:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><i>Ninth day: Course northwest by west, west. Run 1108 mi. To go 2030
-mi. approx. Supplies low. Spirits low....</i></p></div>
-
-<p>"Lieutenant," said Jenks from across the tent, as Wofforth closed the
-book.</p>
-
-<p>"Well?"</p>
-
-<p>"We know you're in command. This party and all of Pluto. But we ask
-permission to state our case."</p>
-
-<p>"What case is your case?" demanded Wofforth, rising. "I'm doing my best
-to get you back to Base Camp."</p>
-
-<p>"Sure," said Corbett. "Sure. But why Base Camp?"</p>
-
-<p>"You know why."</p>
-
-<p>"That's right, we know why," agreed Jenks, and Corbett grinned in his
-ten days' tussock of beard.</p>
-
-<p>"They'll have left supplies for us," Wofforth went on. "Shelter and
-food and fuel and instruments. They'll expect us to reach Base Camp and
-hold it down for the next attempt to reach Pluto."</p>
-
-<p>"We know why," repeated Jenks. "And that's not why, lieutenant. Let me
-talk, sir. It's a dead man talking."</p>
-
-<p>"You won't die," snapped Wofforth. "I'll get you both there alive."</p>
-
-<p>He stepped to where, in one corner, he had managed a bath&mdash;a hollow in
-the frozen ground, lined by pushing the floor fabric into it. From the
-heater he ran tepid, clean water into it. He clipped a mirror to the
-tent foil, searched out an automatic razor, and began to shave his own
-dark young thatch of beard.</p>
-
-<p>"You're proving my point, lieutenant," said Jenks. "Policing up your
-face to look pretty."</p>
-
-<p>"Why not?" growled Wofforth, mowing another swath of whiskers.</p>
-
-<p>"No reason why not. Ten, twenty years from now they'll find your
-body&mdash;whenever the inner orbits get to where they can boom off another
-expedition. You'll look young and clean-shaved. You know who'll weep."</p>
-
-<p>Wofforth lowered the razor in his good hand and glared at the two. They
-grinned in the bright light opposite him. They looked as if they hoped
-he'd see the joke.</p>
-
-<p>"I said it's a dying man that's talking," said Jenks again. "Won't you
-let me say my dying say, lieutenant? Let's all die honest."</p>
-
-<p>"I'm going to get you there," Wofforth insisted.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah, now," said Corbett, as though persuading a naughty child. "You
-think they've left twenty years' worth of supplies to keep us going?
-The ship didn't carry that much, even if they left it all." He grinned
-mirthlessly. "I can figure what you're figuring, lieutenant," he went
-on, with a touch of Jenks' sly manner. "You die, young and brave.
-You'll shave up again before you lie down and let go. And when the
-next shipload arrives there'll be you, lying like a statue of your
-good-looking young self, frozen stiff. Am I right?"</p>
-
-<p>Corbett was right, Wofforth admitted to himself. The man was more than
-a great meaty lump, after all, to see another man's unspoken thought so
-clearly.</p>
-
-<p>"Then," Jenks took it up, "First Mate Lya Stromminger will have a look.
-She may command the new expedition. She'll be promoted away up to
-Admiral or higher&mdash;twenty years of brilliant service&mdash;gone gray around
-the edges, but still a lovely lady. There you'll lie before her eyes,
-young and brave as you was when she deserted you. She'll cry, won't
-she? And hot tears can't thaw you out or wake you up&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Shut your heads, both of you!" shouted Wofforth, so fierce and loud
-that the foil tent wall vibrated as with a gale in the airless night.</p>
-
-<p>But they had guessed true. He'd wanted to be found at Base Camp. He'd
-wanted Lya Stromminger to know, some day, that she'd blasted off and
-left behind the man most worthy of all men on all worlds....</p>
-
-<p>"Everybody takes a hot bath tonight," said Wofforth. "We'll all sleep
-better for it. Tomorrow's our last day on the trail."</p>
-
-<p>"To do two thousand miles?" said Jenks.</p>
-
-<p>"To do all of that. The expedition mapped an area at least that wide
-around Base Camp, and it's slick and smooth. We can almost slide in."</p>
-
-<p>"All slick and smooth but just this side of Base Camp, lieutenant,"
-said Jenks.</p>
-
-<p>"How do you mean?"</p>
-
-<p>"That string of craters. Don't you remember? It's just this side&mdash;east
-of Base Camp. This sled'll never go over that, sir."</p>
-
-<p>"Nor around," Corbett put in. "We'd have to detour maybe three thousand
-miles. And the heaters in our suits won't last."</p>
-
-<p>"I know about the craters," said Wofforth. "Well take care of them when
-we reach them."</p>
-
-<p>Stripping, he lowered his body into the makeshift tub and began to
-scrub himself one-handed.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>He wakened in the morning to the sound of furious argument.</p>
-
-<p>Corbett and Jenks, of course. A trifle&mdash;division of the breakfast
-ration, or of the breakfast chores&mdash;had set off their nerves like
-trains of explosive. Even as Wofforth rose from his bedstrip, Corbett
-swung a cobble-like fist at Jenks' gaunt, grimacing face. The nimbler,
-smaller man ducked and sidled away. Corbett took a lumbering step to
-close in on his enemy, and Jenks darted a hand to his belt behind, then
-brought it forward again with an electro-automatic pistol.</p>
-
-<p>"I've been keeping this for you!" Jenks shrilled. "I'll just diminish
-the population of Pluto by thirty-three and one-third percent!"</p>
-
-<p>"Hold it!" bellowed Wofforth.</p>
-
-<p>He was too late. A stream of bullets chattered through Corbett's body,
-folding him over and ripping through the paper-thin wall of the tent.
-Air whistled out; the tent began to collapse.</p>
-
-<p>Jenks, pinned under Corbett's body, was squealing like a pig.
-"Lieutenant, help me&mdash;!"</p>
-
-<p>Wofforth saw in an instant that the wall could not be patched in time;
-the bullets had torn loose an irregular strip, pressure had done the
-rest: even now, the tent was only a few seconds away from complete
-collapse. As he stumbled across the floor toward the spacesuits, his
-heart was laboring and his chest straining for breath. Spots swam in
-front of his eyes. He found the topmost spacesuit by touch, and fumbled
-for the helmet. The tent drifted down on his head in soft, murderous
-folds. He opened the valve, shoved his face into the helmet, and gulped
-precious oxygen. His dulled awareness brightened again, momentarily;
-but he knew he was still a dead man unless he could get into the suit
-before pressure fell completely. Numbed fingers plucked at the suit
-opening. Somehow he got the awkward garment over his legs, closed and
-locked the torso, pulled down the helmet....</p>
-
-<p>He was lying in darkness, with a low, steady hiss of oxygen in his
-ears. He rolled over weakly, got to his feet. He turned on his helmet
-light. He was propping up a gray cave of metal foil, that fell in
-stiff creases all around him. At his feet were the bodies of Jenks and
-Corbett. Both were dead.</p>
-
-<p>After a while, clumsily, painfully, he dragged the two corpses free of
-the tent. He found the heater and thawed a hole in the frozen surface,
-big enough for both. He tumbled them in, then undercut the edges of the
-hole with the heater, so that chunks fell in and covered them. While
-he watched, the cloud of vapor he had made began to settle, slowly
-congealing on the broken surface and blurring it over again. In a
-year, there would be no mark here to show that the surface had been
-disturbed. In a thousand years, it would still be the same.</p>
-
-<p>In the first ray of dawn he flung all supplies from the sled except the
-fuel containers. He checked the engine, and started it.</p>
-
-<p>Into his belt-bag he thrust the log book. Nothing else went aboard the
-sled&mdash;no food, no water container, no tools, instruments or oxygen
-tanks. The tent he left lying there, with all that had been carried
-inside the night before.</p>
-
-<p>As the sun rose clear of the distant rim of the plain to eastward, he
-rigged a line to the steering boom, then lashed himself securely within
-reach of the engine. Steering by the taut line, he started westward,
-slowly at first, then faster. It was as he had hoped. The lightened
-sled attained and held a greater speed than on any previous day.</p>
-
-<p>"I'll make it," he said aloud, with nobody else to listen on all Pluto.
-"I'll make it!"</p>
-
-<p>Faster he urged the engine's rhythm, and faster. He clocked its speed
-by the indicators on the housing. A hundred and fifty miles an hour. A
-hundred and sixty; not enough. Whipping the boom line tight around his
-waist to hold his course steady, he sighted between the upcurve of the
-runner forward. There was level, smooth-frozen country, mile upon mile.
-He speeded up to one hundred and seventy-five miles an hour. More. The
-sled hummed at every joining.</p>
-
-<p>At noon, he had done a good thousand miles. At mid-afternoon, sixteen
-hundred. Two and a half hours of visibility left, and more than four
-hundred miles to go.</p>
-
-<p>"I can do those on my head," muttered Wofforth to himself, and then,
-far in the distance, the flat rim of the horizon was flat no longer.</p>
-
-<p>It had sprung up jagged, full of points and bulges. Speeding toward it,
-he steered by the line around his waist while he cut his engine. He
-came close at fifty miles an hour, almost a crawl.</p>
-
-<p>Some ancient volcanic action had thrown up those mountains, like a rank
-of close-drawn sentries. The sled could not cross them anywhere. Still
-reducing speed, Wofforth drew close to a notch, but the notch gave into
-a crater, a great shallow saucer two miles in diameter and filled with
-shadows below, so that Wofforth could not gauge its depth. Opposite,
-another notch&mdash;perhaps once the crater had been a lake, with water
-running in and out. If he had come there at noon, he could have seen
-the bottom, and perhaps&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"But it isn't noon." Wofforth was talking to himself again. His voice
-sounded thin and petulant in his own ears. "By noon tomorrow, the heat
-will be out of this suit."</p>
-
-<p>He stopped the sled, unlashed himself and trudged to the notch. He
-stood in it, looking down, then across.</p>
-
-<p>The little bright jewel of the sun, sagging toward the horizon, showed
-him the upper reaches of the crater's interior, pitched at an angle of
-perhaps fifty degrees.</p>
-
-<p>Even if it had been noon, it would have been no use. The sled could
-never climb a slope like that.</p>
-
-<p>Then he looked again, this way and that. He nodded inside his helmet.</p>
-
-<p>He might as well try.</p>
-
-<p>Returning to the sled, he started the engine and lashed himself fast
-again. He steered away from the crater, and around. He made a great
-looping journey of twenty miles or so across the plain, building speed
-all the time.</p>
-
-<p>As he rounded the rear curve of his course, he was driving along at two
-hundred and sixty miles an hour, and he had to apply pressure to the
-boom with both hand and knees to point the sled back straight for the
-notch. Straightening his humming vehicle into a headlong course, he
-leaned forward and sighted between the upcurved runners.</p>
-
-<p>"Now!" he urged himself, and watched the break in the crater wall rush
-toward him.</p>
-
-<p>It greatened, yawned. He leaped through, and with a groaning gasp of
-prayer he dragged the boom over to steer the sled right.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>It worked, as he had not dared hope. The runners bounced, bit. Then he
-was racing around the inside of the great cup's rim, like a hurtling
-bubble on the inner surface of a whirlpool's funnel. Two miles across,
-three miles and more on the half diameter&mdash;the engine laboring up to
-three hundred miles an hour, centrifugal force holding it there&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>Little more than thirty seconds raced by when he knew he had won. He
-saw the far notch growing near. He came to it in a last booming rush,
-and hurled his whole weight against the boom to face the runners into
-the notch.</p>
-
-<p>Under the low-dropping sun, he and his sled shot into open country
-beyond the range.</p>
-
-<p>His right arm felt dead from shoulder to fingertip. His head roared
-and drummed with the racing of his blood. His face had tired spots in
-it, where muscles he had never used before had locked into an agonized
-grimace.</p>
-
-<p>On he sped, straight west, gasping and gurgling and mumbling in crazy
-triumph.</p>
-
-<p>An hour, an anticlimactic hour wherein the sled almost steered itself
-over the smoothest of plain, and up ahead he spied the black outline of
-Base Camp.</p>
-
-<p>It was a sprawling, low structure, prefabricated metal and plastic and
-insulation, black outside to gather what heat might come from outer
-space. It held aloof on the dull frozen plain from the irregular stain
-where the expedition ship had braked off with one set of rockets and
-had soared away with another set. Larger, more familiar, grew Base Camp
-with each second of approach. Shakily Wofforth cut his engine, slowed
-from high speed to medium, to a hundred miles an hour, to sixty, to
-fifty. He made a final circle around Base Camp, and let it coast in
-with the engine off, to within twenty yards of the main lock panel.</p>
-
-<p>He got up, on legs that shook inside his boots. He felt his heart
-still racing, his head still ringing. He sighed once, and walked
-close, his gauntlet fumbling at the release button on the lock panel.</p>
-
-<p>But the button did not respond.</p>
-
-<p>"Jammed," he said. "No&mdash;locked."</p>
-
-<p>He couldn't get in. He had reached Base Camp, but he could not get in.
-They hadn't counted on his return. They'd gone off and left Base Camp
-locked up.</p>
-
-<p>He sagged against the lock panel, and cursed once, with an utter and
-furious resignation.</p>
-
-<p>He felt himself slipping. He was going to faint. His legs would not
-hold him up. He was slipping forward&mdash;seemed to be sinking into the
-massive and unyielding outer surface of Base Camp. It was a dream. Or
-it was death.</p>
-
-<p>He did not lose all hold on his awareness. He had a sense of lying at
-full length, and blinding light flashes that made his eyelids jump. And
-a tug somewhere, as though his helmet was coming off. He would have put
-out a hand to see, but his left arm was broken, and his right arm limp
-from weariness.</p>
-
-<p>"You're back," said a voice he knew, a voice strained with wonder. "You
-managed. I knew you would."</p>
-
-<p>"Now," said Wofforth, "I know it's a dream. We dream after we die."</p>
-
-<p>A hand was cupped behind his neck, lifting him to a sitting position.
-He felt warm fluid at his lips. "It's no dream," said the voice
-beseechingly. "Look at me."</p>
-
-<p>"I don't dare. The dream will go away."</p>
-
-<p>But he opened his eyes and looked at her hair like Plutonian night, her
-eyes like bright stars. "Lya," he said. "I'm going to call you Lya."</p>
-
-<p>"Please call me Lya."</p>
-
-<p>"I'd be bound to dream about you. I've dreamed about you so much....
-<i>Owww!</i>"</p>
-
-<p>He got his right hand up to cherish his tingling cheek.</p>
-
-<p>"So you felt that," she said. "Now you know you're awake. Or must I
-slap you again?"</p>
-
-<p>"I'm sorry, Madame."</p>
-
-<p>"You called me Lya. Can you stand up? I'll help you."</p>
-
-<p>She helped him. He stood up, there in the admission chamber of Base
-Camp. Lya Stromminger was smiling, and she was crying, too.</p>
-
-<p>"You didn't go away," he said. "You're still here." The weight of his
-odyssey, half around Pluto, was beginning to stagger him.</p>
-
-<p>"No, I stayed. I knew you'd come back. I knew Pluto couldn't kill you
-or keep you from coming back."</p>
-
-<p>He drank more from the cup she held to his lips.</p>
-
-<p>"We'll wait together for them to come with the next expedition," she
-promised him.</p>
-
-<p>"Twenty years? Supplies&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"There'll be plenty. Don't you know about Pluto? Didn't those craters,
-those old volcanoes, tell you?"</p>
-
-<p>Thinking of how he had crossed the crater, Wofforth shuddered.</p>
-
-<p>"Pluto is colder than anybody even guessed&mdash;outside. But inside are
-the internal fires&mdash;like all the solid planets. We made our tests and
-we can tap them. I kept the instruments for that. It means we'll have
-power, and can make our synthetic foods and so on for as long as we
-need them. You and I are the inhabitants here&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>He stumbled to a chair and sat. "Twenty years&mdash;" he said.</p>
-
-<p>Her arm was still around him. Her hair brushed his cheek. "It won't be
-long. We have so much to say to each other."</p>
-
-<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALF AROUND PLUTO ***</div>
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