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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e1827e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63633 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63633) diff --git a/old/63633-h.zip b/old/63633-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2b72d63..0000000 --- a/old/63633-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63633-h/63633-h.htm b/old/63633-h/63633-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index d824650..0000000 --- a/old/63633-h/63633-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2048 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Out of the Iron Womb!, by Poul Anderson. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -.ph1 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Out of the Iron Womb!, by Poul Anderson - -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: Out of the Iron Womb! - -Author: Poul Anderson - -Release Date: November 4, 2020 [EBook #63633] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUT OF THE IRON WOMB! *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>OUT OF THE IRON WOMB!</h1> - -<h2>By POUL ANDERSON</h2> - -<p><i>Behind a pale Venusian mask lay hidden the<br /> -arch-humanist, the anti-tech killer ... one of<br /> -those who needlessly had strewn Malone blood<br /> -across the heavens from Saturn to the sun.<br /> -Now—on distant Trojan asteroids—the<br /> -rendezvous for death was plainly marked.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Summer 1955.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The most dangerous is not the outlawed murderer, who only slays men, -but the rebellious philosopher: for he destroys worlds.</p> - -<p>Darkness and the chill glitter of stars. Bo Jonsson crouched on a -whirling speck of stone and waited for the man who was coming to kill -him.</p> - -<p>There was no horizon. The flying mountain on which he stood was -too small. At his back rose a cliff of jagged rock, losing its own -blackness in the loom of shadows; its teeth ate raggedly across the -Milky Way. Before him, a tumbled igneous wilderness slanted crazily -off, with one long thin crag sticking into the sky like a grotesque -bowsprit.</p> - -<p>There was no sound except the thudding of his own heart, the harsh rasp -of his own breath, locked inside the stinking metal skin of his suit. -Otherwise ... no air, no heat, no water or life or work of man, only a -granite nakedness spinning through space out beyond Mars.</p> - -<p>Stooping, awkward in the clumsy armor, he put the transparent plastic -of his helmet to the ground. Its cold bit at him even through the -insulating material. He might be able to hear the footsteps of his -murderer conducted through the ground.</p> - -<p>Stillness answered him. He gulped a heavy lungful of tainted air -and rose. The other might be miles away yet, or perhaps very close, -catfooting too softly to set up vibrations. A man could do that when -gravity was feeble enough.</p> - -<p>The stars blazed with a cruel wintry brilliance, over him, around -him, light-years to fall through emptiness before he reached one. He -had been alone among them before; he had almost thought them friends. -Sometimes, on a long watch, a man found himself talking to Vega or -Spica or dear old Beetle Juice, murmuring what was in him as if the -remote sun could understand. But they didn't care, he saw that now. To -them, he did not exist, and they would shine carelessly long after he -was gone into night.</p> - -<p>He had never felt so alone as now, when another man was on the asteroid -with him, hunting him down.</p> - -<p>Bo Jonsson looked at the wrench in his hand. It was long and massive, -it would have been heavy on Earth, but it was hardly enough to unscrew -the stars and reset the machinery of a universe gone awry. He smiled -stiffly at the thought. He wanted to laugh too, but checked himself for -fear he wouldn't be able to stop.</p> - -<p><i>Let's face it</i>, he told himself. <i>You're scared. You're scared -sweatless.</i> He wondered if he had spoken it aloud.</p> - -<p>There was plenty of room on the asteroid. At least two hundred square -miles, probably more if you allowed for the rough surface. He could -skulk around, hide ... and suffocate when his tanked air gave out. He -had to be a hunter, too, and track down the other man, before he died. -And if he found his enemy, he would probably die anyway.</p> - -<p>He looked about him. Nothing. No sound, no movement, nothing but the -streaming of the constellations as the asteroid spun. Nothing had ever -moved here, since the beginning of time when moltenness congealed into -death. Not till men came and hunted each other.</p> - -<p>Slowly he forced himself to move. The thrust of his foot sent him -up, looping over the cliff to drift down like a dead leaf in Earth's -October. Suit, equipment, and his own body, all together, weighed only -a couple of pounds here. It was ghostly, this soundless progress over -fields which had never known life. It was like being dead already.</p> - -<p>Bo Jonsson's tongue was dry and thick in his mouth. He wanted to -find his enemy and give up, buy existence at whatever price it would -command. But he couldn't do that. Even if the other man let him do it, -which was doubtful, he couldn't. Johnny Malone was dead.</p> - -<p>Maybe that was what had started it all—the death of Johnny Malone.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There are numerous reasons for basing on the Trojan asteroids, but -the main one can be given in a single word: stability. They stay put -in Jupiter's orbit, about sixty degrees ahead and behind, with only -minor oscillations; spaceships need not waste fuel coming up to a body -which has been perturbed a goodly distance from where it was supposed -to be. The trailing group is the jumping-off place for trans-Jovian -planets, the leading group for the inner worlds—that way, their own -revolution about the sun gives the departing ship a welcome boost, -while minimizing the effects of Jupiter's drag.</p> - -<p>Moreover, being dense clusters, they have attracted swarms of miners, -so that Achilles among the leaders and Patroclus in the trailers have a -permanent boom town atmosphere. Even though a spaceship and equipment -represent a large investment, this is one of the last strongholds of -genuinely private enterprise: the prospector, the mine owner, the -rockhound dreaming of the day when his stake is big enough for him to -start out on his own—a race of individualists, rough and noisy and -jealous, but living under iron rules of hospitality and rescue.</p> - -<p>The Last Chance on Achilles has another name, which simply sticks an -"r" in the official one; even for that planetoid, it is a rowdy bar -where Guardsmen come in trios. But Johnny Malone liked it, and talked -Bo Jonsson into going there for a final spree before checkoff and -departure. "Nothing to compare," he insisted. "Every place else is -getting too fantangling civilized, except Venus, and I don't enjoy -Venus."</p> - -<p>Johnny was from Luna City himself: a small, dark man with the quick -nervous movements and dipped accent of that roaring commercial -metropolis. He affected the latest styles, brilliant colors in the -flowing tunic and slacks, a beret cocked on his sleek head. But somehow -he didn't grate on Bo, they had been partners for several years now.</p> - -<p>They pushed through a milling crowd at the bar, rockhounds who watched -one of Achilles' three live ecdysiasts with hungry eyes, and by some -miracle found an empty booth. Bo squeezed his bulk into one side of the -cubicle while Johnny, squinting through a reeking smoke-haze, dialed -drinks. Bo was larger and heavier than most spacemen—he'd never have -gotten his certificate before the ion drive came in—and was usually -content to let others talk while he listened. A placid blond giant, -with amiable blue eyes in a battered brown face, he did not consider -himself bright, and always wanted to learn.</p> - -<p>Johnny gulped his drink and winced. "Whiskey, they call it yet! Water, -synthetic alcohol, and a dash of caramel they have the gall to label -whiskey and charge for!"</p> - -<p>"Everything's expensive here," said Bo mildly. "That's why so few -rockhounds get rich. They make a lot of money, but they have to spend -it just as fast to stay alive."</p> - -<p>"Yeh ... yeh ... wish they'd spend some of it on us." Johnny grinned -and fed the dispenser another coin. It muttered to itself and slid -forth a tray with a glass. "C'mon, drink up, man. It's a long way home, -and we've got to fortify ourselves for the trip. A bottle, a battle, -and a wench is what I need. Most especially the wench, because I don't -think the eminent Dr. McKittrick is gonna be interested in sociability, -and it's close quarters aboard the <i>Dog</i>."</p> - -<p>Bo kept on sipping slowly. "Johnny," he said, raising his voice to cut -through the din, "you're an educated man. I never could figure out why -you want to talk like a jumper."</p> - -<p>"Because I am one at heart. Look, Bo, why don't you get over that -inferiority complex of yours? A man can't run a spaceship without -knowing more math and physical science than the average professor on -Earth. So you had to work your way through the Academy and never had a -chance to fan yourself with a lily white hand while somebody tootled -Mozart through a horn. So what?" Johnny's head darted around, birdlike. -"If we want some women we'd better make our reservations now."</p> - -<p>"I don't, Johnny," said Bo. "I'll just nurse a beer." It wasn't morals -so much as fastidiousness; he'd wait till they hit Luna.</p> - -<p>"Suit yourself. If you don't want to uphold the honor of the Sirius -Transportation Company—"</p> - -<p>Bo chuckled. The Company consisted of (a) the <i>Sirius</i>; (b) her crew, -himself and Johnny; (c) a warehouse, berth, and three other part owners -back in Luna City. Not exactly a tramp ship, because you can't normally -stop in the middle of an interplanetary voyage and head for somewhere -else; but she went wherever there was cargo or people to be moved. -Her margin of profit was not great in spite of the charges, for a -space trip is expensive; but in a few more years they'd be able to buy -another ship or two, and eventually Fireball and Triplanetary would be -getting some competition. Even the public lines might have to worry a -little.</p> - -<p>Johnny put away another couple of shots and rose. Alcohol cost plenty, -but it was also more effective in low-gee. "'Scuse me," he said. "I see -a target. Sure you don't want me to ask if she has a friend?"</p> - -<p>Bo shook his head and watched his partner move off, swift in the puny -gravity—the Last Chance didn't centrifuge like some of the tommicker -places downtown. It was hard to push through the crowd without weight -to help, but Johnny faded along and edged up to the girl with his -highest-powered smile. There were several other men standing around -her, but Johnny had The Touch. He'd be bringing her back here in a few -minutes.</p> - -<p>Bo sighed, feeling a bit lonesome. If he wasn't going to make a night -of it, there was no point in drinking heavily. He had to make the final -inspection of the ship tomorrow, and grudged the cost of anti-hangover -tablets. Besides what he was putting back into the business, he was -trying to build a private hoard; some day, he'd retire and get married -and build a house. He already had the site picked out, on Kullen -overlooking the Sound, back on Earth. Man, but it was a long time since -he'd been on Earth!</p> - -<p>A sharp noise slashed through the haze of talk and music Bo looked up. -There was a tall black haired man, Venusian to judge by his kilts, -arguing with Johnny. His face was ugly with anger.</p> - -<p>Johnny made some reply. Bo heaved up his form and strode toward the -discussion, casually picking up anyone in the way and setting him -aside. Johnny liked a fight, but this Venusian was big.</p> - -<p>As he neared, he caught words: "—my girl, dammit."</p> - -<p>"Like hell I am!" said the girl. "I never saw you before—"</p> - -<p>"Run along and play, son," said Johnny. "Or do you want me to change -that diaper of yours?"</p> - -<p>That was when it happened. Bo saw the little needler spit from the -Venusian's fingers. Johnny stood there a moment, looking foolishly at -the dart in his stomach. Then his knees buckled and he fell with a -nightmare slowness.</p> - -<p>The Venusian was already on the move. He sprang straight up, slammed a -kick at the wall, and arced out the door into the dome corridor beyond. -<i>A spaceman, that. Knows how to handle himself in low-gee.</i> It was the -only clear thought which ran in the sudden storm of Bo's head.</p> - -<p>The girl screamed. A man cursed and tried to follow the Venusian. -He tangled with another. "Get outta my way!" A roar lifted, someone -slugged, someone else coolly smashed a bottle against the bar and -lifted the jagged end. There was the noise of a fist meeting flesh.</p> - -<p>Bo had seen death before. That needle wasn't anesthetic, it was poison. -He knelt in the riot with Johnny's body in his arms.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">II</p> - -<p>Suddenly the world came to an end. There was a sheer drop-off onto the -next face of the rough cube which was the asteroid. Bo lay on his belly -and peered down the cliff, it ran for a couple of miles and beyond it -were the deeps of space and the cold stars. He could dimly see the -tortured swirl of crystallization patterns in the smooth bareness. No -place to hide; his enemy was not there.</p> - -<p>He turned the thought over in a mind which seemed stiff and slow. By -crossing that little plain he was exposing himself to a shot from one -of its edges. On the other hand, he could just as well be bushwhacked -from a ravine as he jumped over. And this route was the fastest for -completing his search scheme.</p> - -<p>The Great Bear slid into sight, down under the world as it turned. He -had often stood on winter nights, back in Sweden, and seen its immense -sprawl across the weird flicker of aurora; but even then he wanted the -spaceman's experience of seeing it from above. Well, now he had his -wish, and much good it had done him.</p> - -<p>He went over the edge of the cliff, cautiously, for it wouldn't take -much of an impetus to throw him off this rock entirely. Then his -helpless and soon frozen body would be just another meteor for the next -million years. The vague downward sensation of gravity shifted insanely -as he moved; he had the feeling that the world was tilting around him. -Now it was the precipice which was a scarred black plain underfoot, -reaching to a saw-toothed bluff at its farther edge.</p> - -<p>He moved with flat low-gee bounds. Besides the danger of springing off -the asteroid entirely, there was its low acceleration to keep a man -near the ground; jump up a few feet and it would take you a while to -fall back. It was utterly silent around him. He had never thought there -could be so much stillness.</p> - -<p>He was halfway across when the bullet came. He saw no flash, heard -no crack, but suddenly the fissured land before him exploded in a -soundless shower of chips. The bullet ricocheted flatly, heading off -for outer space. No meteor gravel, that!</p> - -<p>Bo stood unmoving an instant, fighting the impulse to leap away. He was -a spaceman, not a rockhound; he wasn't used to this environment, and if -he jumped high he could be riddled as he fell slowly down again. Sweat -was cold on his body. He squinted, trying to see where the shot had -come from.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he was zigzagging off across the plain toward the nearest -edge. Another bullet pocked the ground near him. The sun rose, a tiny -heatless dazzle blinding in his eyes.</p> - -<p>Fire crashed at his back. Thunder and darkness exploded before him. He -lurched forward, driven by the impact. Something was roaring, echoes -clamorous in his helmet. He grew dimly aware that it was himself. Then -he was falling, whirling down into the black between the stars.</p> - -<p>There was a knife in his back, it was white-hot and twisting between -the ribs. He stumbled over the edge of the plain and fell, waking when -his armor bounced a little against stone.</p> - -<p>Breath rattled in his throat as he turned his head. There was a white -plume standing over his shoulder, air streaming out through the hole -and freezing its moisture. The knife in him was not hot, it was cold -with an ultimate cold.</p> - -<p>Around him, world and stars rippled as if seen through heat, through -fever. He hung on the edge of creation by his fingertips, while chaos -shouted beneath.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Theoretically, one man can run a spaceship, but in practice two -or three are required for non-military craft. This is not only an -emergency reserve, but a preventive of emergencies, for one man alone -might get too tired at the critical moments. Bo knew he wouldn't be -allowed to leave Achilles without a certified partner, and unemployed -spacemen available for immediate hiring are found once in a Venusian -snowfall.</p> - -<p>Bo didn't care the first day. He had taken Johnny out to Helmet Hill -and laid him in the barren ground to wait, unchanging now, till -Judgement Day. He felt empty then, drained of grief and hope alike, -his main thought a dull dread of having to tell Johnny's father when -he reached Luna. He was too slow and clumsy with words; his comforting -hand would only break the old man's back. Old Malone had given six sons -to space, Johnny was the last; from Saturn to the sun, his blood was -strewn for nothing.</p> - -<p>It hardly seemed to matter that the Guards office reported itself -unable to find the murderer. A single Venusian should have been easy to -trace on Achilles, but he seemed to have vanished completely.</p> - -<p>Bo returned to the transient quarters and dialed Valeria McKittrick. -She looked impatiently at him out of the screen. "Well," she said, -"what's the matter? I thought we were blasting today."</p> - -<p>"Hadn't you heard?" asked Bo. He found it hard to believe she could -be ignorant, here where everybody's life was known to everybody else. -"Johnny's dead. We can't leave."</p> - -<p>"Oh ... I'm sorry. He was such a nice little man—I've been in the lab -all the time, packing my things, and didn't know." A frown crossed her -clear brow. "But you've got to get me back. I've engaged passage to -Luna with you."</p> - -<p>"Your ticket will be refunded, of course," said Bo heavily. "But you -aren't certified, and the <i>Sirius</i> is licensed for no less than two -operators."</p> - -<p>"Well ... damn! There won't be another berth for weeks, and I've <i>got</i> -to get home. Can't you find somebody?"</p> - -<p>Bo shrugged, not caring much. "I'll circulate an ad if you want, but—"</p> - -<p>"Do so, please. Let me know." She switched off.</p> - -<p>Bo sat for a moment thinking about her. Valeria McKittrick was worth -considering. She wasn't beautiful in any conventional sense but she was -tall and well built; there were good lines in the strong high boned -face, and her hair was a cataract of spectacular red. And brains, -too ... you didn't get to be a physicist with the Union's radiation -labs for nothing. He knew she was still young, and that she had been on -Achilles for about a year working on some special project and was now -ready to go home.</p> - -<p>She was human enough, had been to most of the officers' parties and -danced and laughed and flirted mildly, but even the dullest rockhound -gossip knew she was too lost in her work to do more. Out here a woman -was rare, and a virtuous woman unheard-of; as a result, unknown to -herself, Dr. McKittrick's fame had spread through more thousands of -people and millions of miles than her professional achievements were -ever likely to reach.</p> - -<p>Since coming here, on commission from the Lunar lab, to bring her -home, Bo Jonsson had given her an occasional wistful thought. He liked -intelligent women, and he was getting tired of rootlessness. But of -course it would be a catastrophe if he fell in love with her because -she wouldn't look twice at a big dumb slob like him. He had sweated out -a couple of similar affairs in the past and didn't want to go through -another.</p> - -<p>He placed his ad on the radinews circuit and then went out to get -drunk. It was all he could do for Johnny now, drink him a final -wassail. Already his friend was cold under the stars. In the course of -the evening he found himself weeping.</p> - -<p>He woke up many hours later. Achilles ran on Earth time but did not -rotate on it; officially, it was late at night, actually the shrunken -sun was high over the domes. The man in the upper bunk said there was a -message for him; he was to call one Einar Lundgard at the Comet Hotel -soonest.</p> - -<p>The Comet! Anyone who could afford a room to himself here, rather than -a kip in the public barracks, was well fueled. Bo swallowed a tablet -and made his way to the visi and dialed. The robo-clerk summoned -Lundgard down to the desk.</p> - -<p>It was a lean, muscular face under close cropped brown hair which -appeared in the screen. Lundgard was a tall and supple man, somehow -neat even without clothes. "Jonsson," said Bo. "Sorry to get you up, -but I understood—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. Are you looking for a spaceman? I heard your ad and I'm -available."</p> - -<p>Bo felt his mouth gape open. "Huh? I never thought—"</p> - -<p>"We're both lucky, I guess." Lundgard chuckled. His English had only -the slightest trace of accent, less than Bo's. "I thought I was stashed -here too for the next several months."</p> - -<p>"How does a qualified spaceman happen to be marooned?"</p> - -<p>"I'm with Fireball, was on the <i>Drake</i>—heard of what happened to her?"</p> - -<p>Bo nodded, for every spaceman knows exactly what every spaceship is -doing at any given time. The <i>Drake</i> had come to Achilles to pick up -a cargo of refined thorium for Earth; while she lay in orbit, she had -somehow lost a few hundred pounds of reaction-mass water from a cracked -gasket. Why the accident should have occurred, nobody knew ... spacemen -were not careless about inspections, and what reason would anyone have -for sabotage? The event had taken place about a month ago, when the -<i>Sirius</i> was already enroute here; Bo had heard of it in the course of -shop talk.</p> - -<p>"I thought she went back anyway," he said.</p> - -<p>Lundgard nodded. "She did. It was the usual question of economics. -You know what refined fuel water costs in the Belt; also, the delay -while we got it would have carried Earth and Achilles past optimum -position, which'd make the trip home that much more expensive. Since we -had one more man aboard than really required, it was cheaper to leave -him behind; the difference in mass would make up for the fuel loss. I -volunteered, even suggested the idea, because ... well, it happened -during my watch, and even if nobody blamed me I couldn't help feeling -guilty."</p> - -<p>Bo understood that kind of loyalty. You couldn't travel space without -men who had it.</p> - -<p>"The Company beamed a message: I'd stay here till their schedule -permitted an undermanned ship to come by, but that wouldn't be for -maybe months," went on Lundgard. "I can't see sitting on this lump that -long without so much as a chance at planetfall bonus. If you'll take me -on, I'm sure the Company will agree; I'll get a message to them on the -beam right away."</p> - -<p>"Take us a while to get back," warned Bo. "We're going to stop off at -another asteroid to pick up some automatic equipment, and won't go into -hyperbolic orbit till after that. About six weeks from here to Earth, -all told."</p> - -<p>"Against six months here?" Lundgard laughed; it emphasized the bright -charm of his manner. "Sunblaze. I'll work for free."</p> - -<p>"No need to. Bring your papers over tomorrow, huh?"</p> - -<p>The certificate and record were perfectly in order, showing Einar -Lundgard to be a Spacetech 1/cl with eight years' experience, -qualified as engineer, astronaut, pilot, and any other of the thousand -professions which have run into one. They registered articles and shook -hands on it. "Call me Bo. It really is my name ... Swedish."</p> - -<p>"Another squarehead, eh?" grinned Lundgard. "I'm from South America -myself."</p> - -<p>"Notice a year's gap here," said Bo, pointing to the service record. -"On Venus."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. I had some fool idea about settling but soon learned better. -I tried to farm, but when you have to carve your own land out of -howling desert—Well, let's start some math, shall we?"</p> - -<p>They were lucky, not having to wait their turn at the station computer; -no other ship was leaving immediately. They fed it the data and -requirements, and got back columns of numbers: fuel requirements, -acceleration times, orbital elements. The figures always had to be -modified, no trip ever turned out just as predicted, but that could be -done when needed with a slipstick and the little ship's calculator.</p> - -<p>Bo went at his share of the job doggedly, checking and re-checking -before giving the problem to the machine; Lundgard breezed through it -and spent his time while waiting for Bo in swapping dirty limericks -with the tech. He had some good ones.</p> - -<p>The <i>Sirius</i> was loaded, inspected, and cleared. A "scooter" brought -her three passengers up to her orbit, they embarked, settled down, and -waited. At the proper time, acceleration jammed them back in a thunder -of rockets.</p> - -<p>Bo relaxed against the thrust, thinking of Achilles falling away behind -them. "So long," he whispered. "So long, Johnny."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">III</p> - -<p>In another minute, he would be knotted and screaming from the bends, -and a couple of minutes later he would be dead.</p> - -<p>Bo clamped his teeth together, as if he would grip consciousness in -his jaws. His hands felt cold and heavy, the hands of a stranger, as -he fumbled for the supply pouch. It seemed to recede from him, down a -hollow infinite corridor where echoes talked in a language he did not -know.</p> - -<p>"Damn," he gasped. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn."</p> - -<p>He got the pouch open somehow. The stars wheeled around him. There -were stars buzzing in his head, like cold white fireflies, buzzing and -buzzing in the enormous ringing emptiness of his skull. Pain jagged -through him, he felt his eardrums popping as pressure dropped.</p> - -<p>The plastic patch stuck to his metal gauntlet. He peeled it off, trying -not to howl with the fury ripping in his nerves. His body was slow, -inert, a thing to fight. There was no more feeling in his back, was he -dead already?</p> - -<p>Redness flamed before his eyes, red like Valeria's hair blowing across -the stars. It was sheer reflex which brought his arm around to slap the -patch over the hole in his suit. The adhesive gripped, drying fast in -the sucking vacuum. The patch bellied out from internal air pressure, -straining to break loose and kill him.</p> - -<p>Bo's mind wavered back toward life. He opened the valves wide on his -tanks, and his thermostatic capacitors pumped heat back into him. For -a long time he lay there, only lungs and heart had motion. His throat -felt withered and flayed, but the rasp of air through it was like being -born again.</p> - -<p>Born, spewed out of an iron womb into a hollowness of stars and cold, -to lie on naked rock while the enemy hunted him. Bo shuddered and -wanted to scream again.</p> - -<p>Slowly he groped back toward awareness. His frostbitten back tingled -as it warmed up again, soon it would be afire. He could feel a hot -trickling of blood, but it was along his right side. The bullet must -have spent most of its force punching through the armor, caromed off -the inside, scratched his ribs, and fallen dead. Next time he probably -wouldn't be so lucky. A magnetic-driven .30 slug would go through -a helmet, splashing brains as it passed.</p> - -<p>He turned his head, feeling a great weariness, and looked at the -gauges. This had cost him a lot of air. There was only about three -hours worth left. Lundgard could kill him simply by waiting.</p> - -<p>It would be easy to die. He lay on his back, staring up at the stars -and the spilling cloudy glory of the Milky Way. A warmth was creeping -back into numbed hands and feet; soon he would be warm all over, and -sleepy. His eyelids felt heavy, strange that they should be so heavy on -an asteroid.</p> - -<p>He wanted terribly to sleep.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There wasn't much room in the <i>Sirius</i>, the only privacy was gained by -drawing curtains across your bunk. Men without psych training could -get to hate each other on a voyage. Bo wondered if he would reach Luna -hating Einar Lundgard.</p> - -<p>The man was competent, a willing worker, tempering his cheerfulness -with tact, always immaculate in the neat blue and white of the Fireball -Line which made Bo feel doubly sloppy in his own old gray coverall. He -was a fine conversationalist with an enormous stock of reminiscence and -ideas, witty above a certain passion of belief. It seemed as if he and -Valeria were always talking, animated voices like a sound of life over -the mechanical ship-murmurs, while Bo sat dumbly in a corner wishing he -could think of something to say.</p> - -<p>The trouble was, in spite of all his efforts, he was doing a cometary -dive into another bad case of one-sided love. When she spoke in that -husky voice of hers, gray gleam of eyes under hair that floated flaming -in null-gee, the beauty he saw in her was like pain. And she was always -around. It couldn't be helped. Once they had gone into free fall he -could only polish so much metal and tinker with so many appliances; -after that they were crowded together in a long waiting.</p> - -<p>—"And why were you all alone in the Belt?" asked Lundgard. "In spite -of all the romantic stories about the wild free life of the rockhound, -it's the dullest place in the System."</p> - -<p>"Not to me," she smiled. "I was working. There were experiments to be -done, factors to be measured, away from solar radiation. There are -always ions around inside the orbit of Mars to jamble up a delicate -apparatus."</p> - -<p>Bo sat quiet, trying to keep his eyes off her. She looked good in -shorts and half-cape. Too good.</p> - -<p>"It's something to do with power beaming, isn't it?" Lundgard's -handsome face creased in a frown. "Afraid I don't quite understand. -They've been beaming power on the planets for a long time now."</p> - -<p>"So they have," she nodded. "What we're after is an interplanetary -power beam. And we've got it." She gestured to the baggage rack and a -thick trunk full of papers she had put there. "That's it. The basic -circuits, factors, and constants. Any competent engineer could draw up -a design from them."</p> - -<p>"Hmmm ... precision work, eh?"</p> - -<p>"Obviously! It was hard enough to do on, say, Earth—you need a -<i>really</i> tight beam in just the right frequencies, a feedback signal -to direct each beam at the desired outlet, relay stations—oh, yes, -it was a ten-year research project before they could even think about -building. An interplanetary beam has all those problems plus a number -of its own. You have to get the dispersion down to a figure so low -it hardly seems possible. You can't use feedback because of the time -lag, so the beams have to be aimed <i>exactly</i> right—and the planets -are always moving, at miles per second. An error of one degree would -throw your beam almost two million miles off in crossing one A.U. And -besides being so precise, the beam has to carry a begawatt at least to -be worth the trouble. The problem looked insoluble till someone in the -Order of Planetary Engineers came up with an idea for a trick control -circuit hooked into a special computer. My lab's been working together -with the Order on it, and I was making certain final determinations for -them. It's finished now ... twelve years of work and we're done." She -laughed. "Except for building the stations and getting the bugs out!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Lundgard cocked an oddly sardonic brow. "And what do you hope for from -it?" he asked. "What have the psychotechs decided to do with this -thing?"</p> - -<p>"Isn't it obvious?" she cried. "Power! Nuclear fuel is getting scarcer -every day, and civilization is finished if we can't find another energy -source. The sun is pouring out more than we'll ever need, but sheer -distance dilutes it below a useful level by the time it gets to Venus.</p> - -<p>"We'll build stations on the hot side of Mercury. Orbital stations -can relay. We can get the beams as far out as Mars without too much -dispersion. It'll bring down the rising price of atomic energy, which -is making all other prices rise, and stretch our supply of fissionables -for centuries more. No more fuel worries, no more Martians freezing to -death because a converter fails, no more clan feuds on Venus starting -over uranium beds—" The excited flush on her cheeks was lovely to look -at.</p> - -<p>Lundgard shook his head. There was a sadness in his smile. "You're -a true child of the New Enlightenment," he said. "Reason will solve -everything. Science will find a cure for all our ills. Give man a cheap -energy source and leave him forever happy. It won't work, you know."</p> - -<p>Something like anger crossed her eyes. "What are you?" she asked. "A -Humanist?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Lundgard quietly.</p> - -<p>Bo started. He'd known about the anti-psychotechnic movement which was -growing on Earth, seen a few of its adherents, but—</p> - -<p>"I never thought a spaceman would be a Humanist," he stammered.</p> - -<p>Lundgard shrugged wryly. "Don't be afraid. I don't eat babies. I don't -even get hysterics in an argument. All I've done is use the scientific -method, observing the world without preconceptions, and learned by it -that the scientific method doesn't have all the answers."</p> - -<p>"Instead," said Valeria, scornfully, "we should all go back to church -and pray for what we want rather than working for it."</p> - -<p>"Not at all," said Lundgard mildly. "The New Enlightenment is—or was, -because it's dying—a very natural state of mind. Here Earth had come -out of the World Wars, racked and ruined, starving and chaotic, and -all because of unbridled ideology. So the physical scientists produced -goods and machines and conquered the planets; the biologists found -new food sources and new cures for disease; the psychotechs built up -their knowledge to a point where the socio-economic unity could really -be planned and the plan worked. Man was unified, war had sunken to an -occasional small 'police action,' people were eating and had comfort -and security—all through applied, working science. Naturally they came -to believe reason would solve their remaining problems. But this faith -in reason was itself an emotional reaction from the preceding age of -unreason.</p> - -<p>"Well, we've had a century of enlightenment now, and it has created its -own troubles which it cannot solve. No age can handle the difficulties -it raises for itself; that's left to the next era. There are practical -problems arising, and no matter how desperately the psychotechs work -they aren't succeeding with them."</p> - -<p>"What problems?" asked Bo, feeling a little bewildered.</p> - -<p>"Man, don't you ever see a newscast?" challenged Lundgard. "The Second -Industrial Revolution, millions of people thrown out of work by the -new automata. They aren't going hungry, but they are displaced and -bitter. The economic center of Earth is shifting to Asia, the political -power with it, and hundreds of millions of Asians are skeptical aboard -this antiseptic New Order the West has been bringing them: cultural -resistance, and not all the psychotechnic propaganda in the System can -shake it off. The men of Mars, Venus, the Belt, the Jovian moons are -developing their own civilizations—inevitably, in alien environments; -their own ways of living and thinking, which just don't fit into -the neat scheme of an Earth-dominated Solar Union. The psychotechs -themselves are being driven to oligarchic, unconstitutional acts; they -have no choice, but it's making them enemies.</p> - -<p>"And then there's the normal human energy and drive. Man can only -be safe and sane and secure for so long, then he reacts. This New -Enlightenment is really a decadent age, a period where an exhausted -civilization has been resting under a holy status quo. It can't last. -Man always wants something new."</p> - -<p>"You Humanists talk a lot about 'man's right to variability,'" said -Valeria. "If you really carry off that revolution your writings -advocate you'll just trade one power group for another—and more -fanatic, less lawful, than the present one."</p> - -<p>"Not necessarily," said Lundgard. "After all, the Union will probably -break up. It can't last forever. All we want to do is hasten the day -because we feel that it's outlived its usefulness."</p> - -<p>Bo shook his head. "I can't see it," he said heavily. "I just can't -see it. All those people—the Lunarites, the violent clansmen on -Venus, the stiff correct Martians, the asteroid rockhounds, even those -mysterious Jovians—they all came from Earth. It was Earth's help that -made their planets habitable. We're all men, all one race."</p> - -<p>"A fiction," said Lundgard. "The human race is a fiction. There are -only small groups with their own conflicting interests."</p> - -<p>"And if those conflicts are allowed to break into war—" said Valeria. -"Do you know what a lithium bomb can do?"</p> - -<p>There was a reckless gleam in Lundgard's eyes. "If a period of -interplanetary wars is necessary, let's get it over with," he answered. -"Enough men will survive to build something better. This age has -gotten stale. It's petrifying. There have been plenty of shake-ups in -history—the fall of Rome, the Reformation, the Napoleonic Wars, the -World Wars. It's been man's way of progressing."</p> - -<p>"I don't know about all those," said Bo slowly. "I just know I wouldn't -want to live through such a time."</p> - -<p>"You're soft," said Lundgard. "Down underneath you're soft." He laughed -disarmingly. "Pardon me. I didn't mean anything personal. I'll never -convince you and you'll never convince me, so let's keep it friendly. I -hope you'll have some free time on Luna, Valeria. I know a little grill -where they serve the best synthosteaks in the System."</p> - -<p>"All right," she smiled. "It's a date."</p> - -<p>Bo mumbled some excuse and went aft. He was still calling her Dr. -McKittrick.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">IV</p> - -<p>You can't just lie here and let him come kill you.</p> - -<p>There was a picture behind his eyes; he didn't know if it was a dream -or a long buried memory. He stood under an aspen which quivered and -rustled as if it laughed to itself softly, softly, when the wind -embraced it. And the wind was blowing up a red granite slope, wild -and salt from the Sound, and there were towering clouds lifting over -Denmark to the west. The sunlight rained and streamed through aspen -leaves, broken, shaken, falling in spatters against the earth, and -he, Bo Jonsson, laughed with the wind and the tree and the far watery -glitter of the Sound.</p> - -<p>He opened his eyes, wearily, like an old man. Orion was marching past, -and there was a blaze on crags five miles off which told of the rising -sun. The asteroid spun swiftly; he had been here for many of its days -now, and each day burdened him like a year.</p> - -<p>Got to get out of here, he knew.</p> - -<p>He sat up, pain tearing along his furrowed breast. Somehow he had kept -the wrench with him, he stared at it in a dull wonder.</p> - -<p>Where to go, where to hide, what to do?</p> - -<p>Thirst nagged him. Slowly he uncoiled the tube which led from the -electrically heated canteen welded to his suit, screwed its end into -the helmet nipple, thumbed down the clamp which closed it, and sucked -hard. It helped a little.</p> - -<p>He dragged himself to his feet and stood swaying, only the -near-weightlessness kept him erect. Turning his head in its transparent -cage, he saw the sun rise, and bright spots danced before him when he -looked away.</p> - -<p>His vision cleared, but for a moment he thought the shadow lifting over -a nearby ridge was a wisp of unconsciousness. Then he made out the -bulky black-painted edge of it, gigantic against the Milky Way, and it -was Lundgard, moving unhurriedly up to kill him.</p> - -<p>A dark laughter was in his radio earphones. "Take it easy, Bo. I'll be -there in a minute."</p> - -<p>He backed away, his heart a sudden thunder, looking for a place to -hide. Down! Get down and don't stand where he can see you! He crouched -as much as the armor would allow and broke into a bounding run.</p> - -<p>A slug spat broken stone near his feet. The powdery dust hung for -minutes before settling. Breath rattled in his throat. He saw the lip -of a meteoric crater and dove.</p> - -<p>Crouching there, he heard Lundgard's voice again: "You're somewhere -near. Why not come out and finish it now?"</p> - -<p>The radio was non-directional, so he snapped back: "A gun against a -monkey wrench?"</p> - -<p>Lundgard's coolness broke a little; there was almost a puzzled note: -"I hate to do this. Why can't you be reasonable? I don't want to kill -you."</p> - -<p>"The trouble," said Bo harshly, "is that I want to kill you."</p> - -<p>"Behold the man of the New Enlightenment!" Bo could imagine Lundgard's -grin. It would be tight, and there would be sweat on the lean face, but -the amusement was genuine. "Didn't you believe sweet reasonableness -could solve everything? This is only the beginning, Bo, just a small -preliminary hint that the age of reason is dying. I've already -converted you to my way of thinking, by the very fact you're fighting -me. Why not admit it?"</p> - -<p>Bo shook his head—futile gesture, looked in darkness where he lay. -There was a frosty blaze of stars when he looked up.</p> - -<p>It was more than himself and Johnny Malone, more even than the -principle of the thing and the catastrophe to all men which Lundgard's -victory meant. There was something deep and primitive which would not -let him surrender, even in the teeth of annihilation. Valeria's image -swayed before him.</p> - -<p>Lundgard was moving around, peering over the shadowy tumble of -blackened rock in search of any trace. There was a magnetic rifle in -his hands. Bo strained his helmet to the crater floor, trying to hear -ground vibrations, but there was nothing. He didn't know where Lundgard -was, only that he was very near.</p> - -<p>Blindly, he bundled his legs and sprang out of the pit.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They found the asteroid where Valeria had left her recording -instruments. It was a tiny drifting fragment of a world which had never -been born, turning endlessly between the constellations; the <i>Sirius</i> -moored fast with grapples, and Valeria donned a spacesuit and went out -to get her apparatus. Lundgard accompanied her. As there was only work -for two, Bo stayed behind.</p> - -<p>He slumped for a while in the pilot chair, letting his mind pace -through a circle of futility. Valeria, Valeria, Valeria—O strong and -fair and never to be forgotten, would he ever see her again after they -made Luna?</p> - -<p><i>This won't do</i>, he told himself dully. <i>I should at least keep busy. -Thank God for work.</i></p> - -<p>He wasn't much of a thinker, he knew that, but he had cleverness in -his hands. It was satisfying to watch a machine come right under his -tools. Working, he could see the falseness of Lundgard's philosophy. -The man could quote history all he wanted; weave a glittering circle -of logic around Bo's awkward brain, but it didn't change facts. Maybe -this century was headed for trouble; maybe psychotechnic government was -only another human self-limitation and should be changed for something -else; nevertheless, the truth remained that most men were workers who -wished no more than peace in which to create as best they could. All -the high ideals in the universe weren't worth breaking the Union for -and smashing the work of human hands in a single burst of annihilating -flame.</p> - -<p><i>I can feel it, down inside me. But why can't I say it?</i></p> - -<p>He got up and went over to the baggage rack, remembering that Lundgard -had dozens of book-reels along and that reading would help him not to -think about what he could never have.</p> - -<p>On a planet Bo would not have dreamed of helping himself without asking -first. But custom is different in space, where there is no privacy and -men must be a unit if they are to survive. He was faintly surprised -to see that Lundgard's personal suitcase was locked; but it would be -hours, probably, before the owner got back: dismantling a recorder -setup took time. A long time, in which to talk and laugh with Valeria. -In the chill spatial radiance, her hair would be like frosty fire.</p> - -<p>Casually, Bo stooped across to Lundgard's sack-hammock and took his key -ring off the hook. He opened the suitcase and lifted out some of the -reels in search of a promising title.</p> - -<p>Underneath them were neatly folded clothes, Fireball uniforms and fancy -dress pajamas. A tartan edge stuck out from below, and Bo lifted a coat -to see what clan that was. Probably a souvenir of Lundgard's Venusian -stay—</p> - -<p>Next to the kilt was a box which he recognized. L-masks came in such -boxes.</p> - -<p>How the idea came to him, he did not know. He stood there for minutes, -looking at the box without seeing it. The ship was very quiet around -him. He had a sudden feeling that the walls were closing in.</p> - -<p>When he opened the box, his hands shook, and there was sweat trickling -along his ribs.</p> - -<p>The mask was of the latest type, meant to fit over the head, snug -around the cheeks and mouth and jaws. It was like a second skin, -reflecting expression, not to be told from a real face. Bo saw the -craggy nose and the shock of dark hair, limp now, but—</p> - -<p>Suddenly he was back on Achilles, with riot roaring around him and -Johnny Malone's body in his arms.</p> - -<p>No wonder they never found that Venusian. There never was any.</p> - -<p>Bo felt a dim shock when he looked at the chronometer. Only five -minutes had gone by while he stood there. Only five minutes to turn the -cosmos inside out.</p> - -<p>Very slowly and carefully he repacked the suitcase and put it in the -rack and sat down to think.</p> - -<p>What to do?</p> - -<p>Accuse Lundgard to his face—no, the man undoubtedly carried that -needler. And there was Valeria to think of. A ricocheting dart, a -scratch on her, no! It took Bo a long time to decide; his brain seemed -viscous. When he looked out of a port to the indifferent stars, he -shuddered.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They came back, shedding their spacesuits in the airlock; frost -whitened the armor as moisture condensed on chilled surfaces. The metal -seemed to breathe cold. Valeria went efficiently to work, stowing the -boxed instruments as carefully as if they were her children. There was -a laughter on her lips which turned Bo's heart around inside him.</p> - -<p>Lundgard leaned over the tiny desk where he sat. "What y' doing?" he -asked.</p> - -<p>"Recalculating our orbit to Luna," said Bo. "I want to go slow for a -few million miles before going up to hyperbolic speed."</p> - -<p>"Why? It'll add days to the trip, and the fuel—"</p> - -<p>"I ... I'm afraid we might barge into Swarm 770. It's supposed to be -near here now and, uh, the positions of those things are never known -for sure ... perturbations...." Bo's mouth felt dry.</p> - -<p>"You've got a megamile of safety margin or your orbit would never have -been approved," argued Lundgard.</p> - -<p>"Hell damn it, I'm the captain!" yelled Bo.</p> - -<p>"All right, all right ... take it easy, skipper." Lundgard shot a -humorous glance at Valeria. "I certainly don't mind a few extra days -in ... the present company."</p> - -<p>She smiled at him. Bo felt ill.</p> - -<p>His excuse was thin; if Lundgard thought to check the ephemeris, it -would fall to ruin. But he couldn't tell the real reason.</p> - -<p>An iron-drive ship does not need to drift along the economical Hohmann -"A" orbit of the big freighters; it can build up such furious speed -that the sun will swing it along a hyperbola rather than an ellipse, -and can still brake that speed near its destination. But the critical -stage of acceleration has to be just right, or there will not be enough -fuel to stop completely; the ship will be pulled into a cometary orbit -and run helpless, the crew probably starving before a rescue vessel can -locate them. Bo dared not risk the trouble exploding at full drive; he -would drift along, capture and bind Lundgard at the first chance, and -then head for Earth. He could handle the <i>Sirius</i> alone even if it was -illegal; he could not handle her if he had to fight simultaneously.</p> - -<p>His knuckles were white on the controls as he loosed the grapples and -nudged away from the asteroid with a whisper of power. After a few -minutes of low acceleration, he cut the rockets, checked position and -velocity, and nodded. "On orbit," he said mechanically. "It's your turn -to cook, Ei ... Einar."</p> - -<p>Lundgard swooped easily through the air into the cubbyhole which served -for a galley. Cooking in free fall is an art which not all spacemen -master, but he could—his meals were even good. Bo felt a helpless kind -of rage at his own clumsy efforts.</p> - -<p>He crouched in midair, dark of mind, a leg hooked around a stanchion to -keep from drifting.</p> - -<p>When someone touched him, his heart jumped and he whirled around.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter, Bo?" asked Valeria. "You look like doomsday."</p> - -<p>"I ... I...." He gulped noisily and twisted his mouth into a smile. -"Just feeling a little off."</p> - -<p>"It's more than that, I think." Her eyes were grave. "You've seemed so -unhappy the whole trip. Is there anything I can do to help?"</p> - -<p>"Thanks ... Dr. McKittrick ... but—"</p> - -<p>"Don't be so formal," she said, almost wistfully. "I don't bite. Too -many men think I do. Can't we be friends?"</p> - -<p>"With a thick-headed clinker like me?" His whisper was raw.</p> - -<p>"Don't be silly. It takes brains to be a spaceman. I like a man who -knows when to be quiet." She lowered her eyes, the lashes were long -and sooty black. "There's something solid about you, something so few -people seem to have these days. I wish you wouldn't go feeling so -inferior."</p> - -<p>At any other time it would have been a sunburst in him. Now he thought -of death, and mumbled something and looked away. A hurt expression -crossed her face. "I won't bother you," she said gently, and moved off.</p> - -<p>The thing was to fall on Lundgard while he slept—</p> - -<p>The radar alarm buzzed during a dinner in which Lundgard's flow of talk -had battered vainly against silence and finally given up. Bo vaulted -over to the control panel and checked. No red light glowed, and the -auto-pilot wasn't whipping them out of danger, so they weren't on a -collision course. But the object was getting close. Bo calculated it -was an asteroid on an orbit almost parallel to their own, relative -speed only a few feet per second; it would come within ten miles or -so. In the magnifying periscope, it showed as a jagged dark cube, -turning around itself and flashing hard glints of sunlight off mica -beds—perhaps six miles square, all crags and cracks and fracture -faces, heatless and lifeless and kindless.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">V</p> - -<p>Lundgard yawned elaborately after dinner. "Excuse," he said. "Unless -somebody's for chess?" His hopeful glance met the grimness of Bo and -the odd sadness of Valeria, and he shrugged. "All right, then. Pleasant -dreams."</p> - -<p>After ten minutes—<i>now!</i></p> - -<p>Bo uncoiled himself. "Valeria," he whispered, as if the name were holy.</p> - -<p>"Yes?" She arched her brows expectantly.</p> - -<p>"I can't stop to explain now. I've got to do something dangerous. Get -back aft of the gyro housing."</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"Get back!" Command blazed frantically in him. "And stay there, -whatever happens."</p> - -<p>Something like fear flickered in her eyes. It was a very long way to -human help. Then she nodded, puzzled but with an obedience which held -gallantry, and slipped out of sight behind the steel pillar.</p> - -<p>Bo launched himself across the room in a single null-gee bound. One -hand ripped aside Lundgard's curtain, the other got him by the throat.</p> - -<p>"What the hell—"</p> - -<p>Lundgard exploded into life. His fist crashed against Bo's cheek. Bo -held on with one hand and slugged with the other. Knuckles bounced on -rubbery muscle. Lundgard's arm snaked for the tunic stretched on his -bunk wall; his body came lithely out of the sack. Bo snatched for that -wrist. Lundgard's free hand came around, edged out to slam him in the -larynx.</p> - -<p>Pain ripped through Bo. He let go and sailed across the room. Lundgard -was pulling out his needler.</p> - -<p>Bo hit the opposite wall and rebounded—not for the armed man, but -for the control panel. Lundgard spat a dart at him. It burst on the -viewport over his shoulder, and Bo caught the acrid whiff of poison. -Then the converter was roaring to life and whining gyros spun the ship -around.</p> - -<p>Lundgard was hurled across the room. He collected himself, catlike, -grabbed a stanchion, and raised the gun again. "I've got the drop," he -said. "Get away from there or you're a dead man."</p> - -<p>It was as if someone else had seized Bo's body. Decision was like -lightning through him. He had tried to capture Lundgard, and failed, -and venom crouched at his back. But the ship was pointed for the -asteroid now, where it hung gloomily a dozen miles off, and the rockets -were ready to spew.</p> - -<p>"If you shoot me," said Bo, "I'll live just long enough to pour on the -juice. We'll hit that rock and scatter from hell to breakfast."</p> - -<p>Valeria emerged. Lundgard swung the needler to cover her. "Stay where -you are!" he rapped.</p> - -<p>"What's happening?" she said fearfully.</p> - -<p>"I don't know," said Lundgard. "Bo's gone crazy—attacked me—"</p> - -<p>Wrath boiled black in the pilot. He snarled, "You killed my partner. -You must'a been fixing to kill us too."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" whispered Valeria.</p> - -<p>"How should I know?" said Lundgard. "He's jumped his orbit, that's all. -Look, Bo, be reasonable. Get away from that panel—"</p> - -<p>"Look in his suitcase, Valeria." Bo forced the words out of a tautened -throat. "A Venusian shot my partner. You'll find his face and his -clothes in Lundgard's things. I'd know that face in the middle of the -sun."</p> - -<p>She hung for a long while, not moving. Bo couldn't see her. His eyes -were nailed to the asteroid, keeping the ship's nose pointed at it.</p> - -<p>"Is that true, Einar?" she asked finally.</p> - -<p>"No," he said. "Of course not. I do have Venusian clothes and a mask, -but—"</p> - -<p>"Then why are you keeping me covered too?"</p> - -<p>Lundgard didn't answer at once. The only noise was the murmur of -machinery and the dense breathing of three pairs of lungs. Then his -laugh jarred forth.</p> - -<p>"All right," he said. "I hadn't meant it to come yet, or to come this -way, but all right."</p> - -<p>"Why did you kill Johnny?" Tears stung Bo's eyes. "He never hurt you."</p> - -<p>"It was necessary." Lundgard's mouth twitched. "But you see, we knew -you were going to Achilles to pick up Valeria and her data. We needed -to get a man aboard your ship, to take over when her orbit brought -her close to our asteroid base. You've forced my hand—I wasn't going -to capture you for days yet. I sabotaged the <i>Drake's</i> fuel tanks to -get myself stranded there, and shot your friend to get his berth. I'm -sorry."</p> - -<p>"Why?" Horror rode Valeria's voice.</p> - -<p>"I'm a Humanist. I've never made a secret of that. What our secret is, -is that some of us aren't content just to talk revolution. We want to -give this rotten, over-mechanized society the shove that will bring -on its end. We've built up a small force, not much as yet, not enough -to accomplish anything lasting. But if we had a solar power beam it -would make a big difference. It could be adapted to direct military -uses, as well as supplying energy to our machines. A lens effect, a -concentration of solar radiation strong enough to burn. Well, it seems -worth trying."</p> - -<p>"And what do you intend for us?"</p> - -<p>"You'll have to be kept prisoners for a while, of course," said -Lundgard. "It won't be onerous. We aren't beasts."</p> - -<p>"No," said Bo. "Just murderers."</p> - -<p>"Save the dramatics," snapped Lundgard. "I have the gun. Get away from -those controls."</p> - -<p>Bo shook his head. There was a wild hammering in his breast, but his -voice surprised him with steadiness: "No. I've got the upper hand. I -can kill you if you move. Yell if he tries anything, Valeria."</p> - -<p>Lundgard's eyes challenged her. "Do you want to die?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Her head lifted. "No," she said, "but I'm not afraid to. Go ahead if -you must, Bo. It's all right."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Bo felt cold. He knew he wouldn't. He was bluffing. In the final -showdown he could not crash her. He had seen too many withered space -drained mummies in his time. But maybe Lundgard didn't realize that.</p> - -<p>"Give up," he said. "You can't gain a damn thing. I'm not going to see -a billion people burned alive just to save our necks. Make a bargain -for your life."</p> - -<p>"No," said Lundgard with a curious gentleness. "I have my own brand of -honor. I'm not going to surrender to you. You can't sit there forever."</p> - -<p>Impasse. The ship floated through eternal silence while they waited.</p> - -<p>"All right," said Bo. "I'll fight you for the power beam."</p> - -<p>"How's that?"</p> - -<p>"I can throw this ship into orbit around the asteroid. We can go down -there and settle the thing between us. The winner can jump up here -again with the help of a jet of tanked air. The lump hasn't got much -gravity."</p> - -<p>Lundgard hesitated. "And how do I know you'll keep your end of the -bargain?" he asked. "You could let me go through the airlock, then -close it and blast off."</p> - -<p>Bo had had some such thought, but he might have known it wouldn't work. -"What do you suggest?" he countered, never taking his eyes off the -planetoid. "Remember, I don't trust you either."</p> - -<p>Lundgard laughed suddenly, a hard yelping bark. "I know! Valeria, go -aft and remove all the control-rod links and spares. Bring them back -here. I'll go out first, taking half of them with me, and Bo can follow -with the other half. He'll have to."</p> - -<p>"I—no! I won't," she whispered. "I can't let you—"</p> - -<p>"Go ahead and do it," said Bo. He felt a sudden vast weariness. "It's -the only way we can break this deadlock."</p> - -<p>She wept as she went toward the engine room.</p> - -<p>Lundgard's thought was good. Without linked control-rods, the converter -couldn't operate five minutes, it would flare up and melt itself and -kill everyone aboard in a flood of radiation. Whoever won the duel -could quickly re-install the necessary parts.</p> - -<p>There was a waiting silence. At last Lundgard said, almost -abstractedly: "Holmgang. Do you know what that means, Bo?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"You ought to. It was a custom of our ancestors back in the early -Middle Ages—the Viking time. Two men would go off to a little island, -a holm, to settle their differences; one would come back. I never -thought it could happen out here." He chuckled bleakly. "Valkyries in -spacesuits?"</p> - -<p>The girl came back with the links tied in two bundles. Lundgard counted -them and nodded. "All right." He seemed strangely calm, an easy -assurance lay over him like armor. Bo's fear was cold in his belly, and -Valeria wept still with a helpless horror.</p> - -<p>The pilot used a safe two minutes of low blast to edge up to the -asteroid. "I'll go into the airlock and put on my spacesuit," said -Lundgard. "Then I'll jump down and you can put the ship in orbit. Don't -try anything while I'm changing, because I'll keep this needler handy."</p> - -<p>"It won't work against a spacesuit," said Bo.</p> - -<p>Lundgard laughed. "I know," he said. He kissed his hand to Valeria and -backed into the lock chamber. The outer valve closed behind him.</p> - -<p>"Bo!" Valeria grabbed the pilot by the shoulders, and he looked around -into her face. "You can't go out there, I won't let you, I—"</p> - -<p>"If I don't," he said tonelessly, "we'll orbit around here till we -starve."</p> - -<p>"But you could be killed!"</p> - -<p>"I hope not. For your sake, mostly, I hope not," he said awkwardly. -"But he won't have any more weapon than me, just a monkey wrench." -There was a metal tube welded to the leg of each suit for holding -tools; wrenches, the most commonly used, were simply left there as a -rule. "I'm bigger than he is."</p> - -<p>"But—" She laid her head on his breast and shuddered with crying. He -tried to comfort her.</p> - -<p>"All right," he said at last. "All right. Lundgard must be through. I'd -better get started."</p> - -<p>"Leave him!" she blazed. "His air won't last many hours. We can wait."</p> - -<p>"And when he sees he's been tricked, you think he won't wreck those -links? No. There's no way out."</p> - -<p>It was as if all his life he had walked on a road which had no -turnings, which led inevitably to this moment.</p> - -<p>He made some careful calculations from the instrument readings, -physical constants of the asteroid, and used another minute's -maneuvering to assume orbital velocity. Alarm lights blinked angry eyes -at him, the converter was heating up. No more traveling till the links -were restored.</p> - -<p>Bo floated from his chair toward the lock. "Good-bye, Valeria," he -said, feeling the bloodless weakness of words. "I hope it won't be for -long."</p> - -<p>She threw her arms about him and kissed him. The taste of tears was -still on his lips when he had dogged down his helmet.</p> - -<p>Opening the outer valve he moved forth, magnetic boots clamping to the -hull. A gulf of stars yawned around him, a cloudy halo about his head. -The stillness was smothering.</p> - -<p>When he was "over" the asteroid he gauged his position with a practiced -eye and jumped free. Falling, he thought mostly of Valeria.</p> - -<p>As he landed he looked around. No sign of Lundgard. The man could be -anywhere in these square miles of cosmic wreckage. He spoke tentatively -into his radio, in case Lundgard should be within the horizon: "Hello, -are you there?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I'm coming." There was a sharp cruel note of laughter. "Sorry -to play this dirty, but there are bigger issues at stake than you or -me. I've kept a rifle in my tool-tube all the time ... just in case. -Good-bye, Bo."</p> - -<p>A slug smashed into the pinnacle behind him. Bo turned and ran.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">VI</p> - -<p>As he rose over the lip of the crater, his head swung, seeking his -enemy. There!</p> - -<p>It was almost a reflex which brought his arm back and sent the wrench -hurtling across the few yards between. Before it had struck, Bo's feet -lashed against the pit edge, and the kick arced him toward Lundgard.</p> - -<p>Spacemen have to be good at throwing things. The wrench hit the lifted -rifle in a soundless shiver of metal, tore it loose from an insecure -gauntleted grasp and sent it spinning into shadow. Lundgard yelled, -spun on his heel, and dove after it. Then the flying body of Bo Jonsson -struck him.</p> - -<p>Even in low-gee, matter has all its inertia. The impact rang and boomed -within their armor, they swayed and fell to the ground, locking arms -and hammering futilely at helmets. Rolling over, Bo got on top, his -hands closed on Lundgard's throat—where the throat should have been, -but plastic and alloy held fast; instinct had betrayed him.</p> - -<p>Lundgard snarled, doubled his legs and kicked. Bo was sent staggering -back. Lundgard crawled erect and turned to look for the rifle. Bo -couldn't see it either in the near-solid blackness where no light fell, -but his wrench lay as a dark gleam. He sprang for that, closed a hand -on it, bounced up, and rushed at Lundgard. A swing shocked his own -muscles with its force, and Lundgard lurched.</p> - -<p>Bo moved in on him. Lundgard reached into his tool-tube and drew out -his own wrench. He circled, his panting hoarse in Bo's earphones.</p> - -<p>"This ... is the way ... it was supposed to be," said Bo.</p> - -<p>He jumped in, his weapon whirling down to shiver again on the other -helmet. Lundgard shook a dazed head and countered. The impact roared -and echoed in Bo's helmet, on into his skull. He smashed heavily. -Lundgard's lifted wrench parried the blow, it slid off. Like a fencer, -Lundgard snaked his shaft in and the reverberations were deafening.</p> - -<p>Bo braced himself and smote with all his power. The hit sang back -through iron and alloy, into his own bones. Lundgard staggered a -little, hunched himself and struck in return.</p> - -<p>They stood with feet braced apart, trading fury, a metal rain on -shivering plastic. The stuff was almost unbreakable, but not quite, not -for long when such violence dinned on it. Bo felt a lifting wild glee, -something savage he had never known before leaped up in him and he -bellowed. He was stronger, he could hit harder. Lundgard's helmet would -break first!</p> - -<p>The Humanist retreated, using his wrench like a sword, stopping the -force of blows without trying to deal more of his own. His left hand -fumbled at his side. Bo hardly noticed. He was pushing in, hewing, -hewing. Again the shrunken sun rose, to flash hard light off his club.</p> - -<p>Lundgard grinned, his face barely visible as highlight and shadow -behind the plastic. His raised tool turned one hit, it slipped along -his arm to rap his flank. Bo twisted his arm around, beat the other -wrench aside for a moment, and landed a crack like a thunderbolt.</p> - -<p>Then Lundgard had his drinking hose free, pointing in his left hand. He -thumbed down the clamp, exposing water at fifty degrees to naked space.</p> - -<p>It rushed forth, driven by its own vapor pressure, a stream like a -lance in the wan sunshine. When it hit Bo's helmet, most of it boiled -off ... cooling the rest, which froze instantly.</p> - -<p>Blindness clamped down on Bo. He leaped away, cursing, the front of his -helmet so frosted he could not see before him. Lundgard bounced around, -playing the hose on him. Through the rime-coat, Bo could make out only -a grayness.</p> - -<p>He pawed at it, trying to wipe it off, knowing that Lundgard was using -this captured minute to look for the rifle. As he got some of the ice -loose, he heard a sharp yell of victory—found!</p> - -<p>Turning, he ran again.</p> - -<p>Over that ridge! Down on your belly! A slug pocked the stone above him. -Rolling over, he got to his feet and bounded off toward a steep rise, -still wiping blindness off his helmet. But he could not wipe the bitter -vomit taste of defeat out of his mouth.</p> - -<p>His breathing was a file that raked in his throat. Heart and lungs were -ready to tear loose, and there was a cold knot in his guts. Fleeing up -the high, ragged slope, he sobbed out his rage at himself and his own -stupidity.</p> - -<p>At the top of the hill he threw himself to the ground and looked down -again over a low wall of basalt. It was hard to see if anything moved -down in that valley of night. Then the sun threw a broken gleam off -polished metal, the rifle barrel, and he saw Einar Lundgard walking -around, looking for him.</p> - -<p>The voice came dim in his earphones. "Why don't you give up, Bo? I tell -you, I don't want to kill you."</p> - -<p>"Yeh." Bo panted wearily. "I'm sure."</p> - -<p>"Well, you can never tell," said Lundgard mildly. "It would be rather -a nuisance to have to keep not only the fair Valeria, but you, tied -up all the way to base. Still, if you'll surrender by the time I've -counted ten—"</p> - -<p>"Look here," said Bo desperately, "I've got half the links. If you -don't give up I'll hammer 'em all flat and let you starve."</p> - -<p>"And Valeria?" The voice jeered at him. He knew his secret was read. "I -shouldn't have let you bluff me in the first place. It won't happen a -second time. All right: one, two, three—"</p> - -<p>Bo could get off this asteroid with no more than the power of his own -legs; a few jets from the emergency blow valve at the bottom of an -air tank would correct his flight as needed to bring him back to the -<i>Sirius</i>. He wanted to get up there, and inside warm walls, and take -Valeria in his hands and never let her go again. He wanted to live.</p> - -<p>"—six, seven, eight—"</p> - -<p>He looked at his gauges. A lot of oxy-helium mixture was gone from -the tanks, but they were big and there was still several atmospheres' -pressure in each. A couple of hours' life. If he didn't exert himself -too much. They screwed directly into valves in the back of his armor, -and—</p> - -<p>"—ten. All right, Bo." Lundgard started moving up the slope, light and -graceful as a bird. It was wide and open, no place to hide and sneak up -behind him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Figures reeled through Bo's mind, senselessly. Mass of the asteroid, -effective radius, escape velocity only a few feet per second, and he -was already on one of the highest points. Brains! he thought with a -shattering sorrow. A lot of good mine have done me!</p> - -<p>He prepared to back down the other side of the hill, run as well as -he could, as long as he could, until a bullet splashed his blood or -suffocation thickened it. But I want to fight! he thought through a -gulp of tears. I want to stand up and fight!</p> - -<p>Orbital velocity equals escape velocity divided by the square root of -two.</p> - -<p>For a moment he lay there, rigid, and his eyes stared at death walking -up the slope but did not see it.</p> - -<p>Then, in a crazy blur of motion, he brought his wrench around, closed -it on a nut at one side, and turned.</p> - -<p>The right hand air tank unscrewed easily. He held it in his hands, a -three foot cylinder, blind while calculation raced through his head. -What would the centrifugal and Coriolis forces be? It was the roughest -sort of estimate. He had neither time nor data, but—</p> - -<p>Lundgard was taking it easy, stopping to examine each patch of shadow -thrown by some gaunt crag, each meteor scar where a man might hide. It -would take him several minutes to reach the hilltop.</p> - -<p>Bo clutched the loosened tank in his arms, throwing one leg around it -to make sure, and faced away from Lundgard. He hefted himself, as if -his body were a machine he must use. Then, carefully, he jumped off the -top of the hill.</p> - -<p>It was birdlike, dreamlike, thus to soar noiseless over iron -desolation. The sun fell behind him. A spearhead pinnacle clawed after -his feet. The Southern Cross flamed in his eyes.</p> - -<p>Downward—get rid of that downward component of velocity. He twisted -the tank, pointing it toward the surface, and cautiously opened the -blow valve with his free hand. Only a moment's exhaust, everything -gauged by eye. Did he have an orbit now?</p> - -<p>The ground dropped sharply off to infinity, and he saw stars under -the keel of the world. He was still going out, away. Maybe he had -miscalculated his jump, exceeded escape velocity after all, and was -headed for a long cold spin toward Jupiter. It would take all his -compressed air to correct such a mistake.</p> - -<p>Sweat prickled in his armpits. He locked his teeth and refused to open -the valve again.</p> - -<p>It was like endless falling, but he couldn't yet be sure if the fall -was toward the asteroid or the stars. The rock spun past him. Another -face came into view. Yes, by all idiot gods, its gravity was pulling -him around!</p> - -<p>He skimmed low over the bleakness of it, seeing darkness and starlit -death sliding beneath him. Another crag loomed suddenly in his path, -and he wondered in a harsh clutch of fear if he was going to crash. -Then it ghosted by, a foot from his flying body. He thought he could -almost sense the chill of it.</p> - -<p>He was a moon now, a satellite skimming low above the airless surface -of his own midget world. The fracture plain where Lundgard had shot -at him went by, and he braced himself. Up around the tiny planet, and -there was the hill he had left, stark against Sagittarius. He saw -Lundgard, standing on its heights and looking the way he had gone. -Carefully, he aimed the tank and gave himself another small blast to -correct his path. There was no noise to betray him, the asteroid was a -grave where all sound was long buried and frozen.</p> - -<p>He flattened, holding his body parallel to the tank in his arms. One -hand still gripped the wrench, the other reached to open the blow -valve wide.</p> - -<p>The surge almost tore him loose. He had a careening lunatic moment of -flight in which the roar of escaping gas boiled through his armor and -he clung like a troll to a runaway witch's broom. The sun was blinding -on one side of him.</p> - -<p>He struck Lundgard with an impact of velocity and inertia which sent -him spinning down the hill. Bo hit the ground, recoiled, and sprang -after his enemy. Lundgard was still rolling. As Bo approached, he came -to a halt, lifted his rifle dazedly, and had it knocked loose with a -single blow of the wrench.</p> - -<p>Lundgard crawled to his feet while Bo picked up the rifle and threw it -off the asteroid. "Why did you do that?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," said Bo. "I should just shoot you down, but I want you -to surrender."</p> - -<p>Lundgard drew his wrench. "No," he said.</p> - -<p>"All right," said Bo. "It won't take long."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When he got up to the <i>Sirius</i>, using a tank Lundgard would never need, -Valeria had armed herself with a kitchen knife. "It wouldn't have done -much good," he said when he came through the airlock. She fell into his -arms, sobbing, and he tried to comfort her. "It's all over. All taken -care of. We can go home now."</p> - -<p>He himself was badly in need of consolation. The inquiry on Earth would -clear him, of course, but he would always have to live with the memory -of a man stretched dead under a wintery sky. He went aft and replaced -the links. When he came back, Valeria had recovered herself, but as -she watched his methodical preparations and listened to what he had to -tell, there was that in her eyes which he hardly dared believe.</p> - -<p>Not him. Not a big dumb slob like him.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Out of the Iron Womb!, by Poul Anderson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUT OF THE IRON WOMB! *** - -***** This file should be named 63633-h.htm or 63633-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/3/63633/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Out of the Iron Womb! - -Author: Poul Anderson - -Release Date: November 4, 2020 [EBook #63633] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUT OF THE IRON WOMB! *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - OUT OF THE IRON WOMB! - - By POUL ANDERSON - - _Behind a pale Venusian mask lay hidden the - arch-humanist, the anti-tech killer ... one of - those who needlessly had strewn Malone blood - across the heavens from Saturn to the sun. - Now--on distant Trojan asteroids--the - rendezvous for death was plainly marked._ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Summer 1955. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -The most dangerous is not the outlawed murderer, who only slays men, -but the rebellious philosopher: for he destroys worlds. - -Darkness and the chill glitter of stars. Bo Jonsson crouched on a -whirling speck of stone and waited for the man who was coming to kill -him. - -There was no horizon. The flying mountain on which he stood was -too small. At his back rose a cliff of jagged rock, losing its own -blackness in the loom of shadows; its teeth ate raggedly across the -Milky Way. Before him, a tumbled igneous wilderness slanted crazily -off, with one long thin crag sticking into the sky like a grotesque -bowsprit. - -There was no sound except the thudding of his own heart, the harsh rasp -of his own breath, locked inside the stinking metal skin of his suit. -Otherwise ... no air, no heat, no water or life or work of man, only a -granite nakedness spinning through space out beyond Mars. - -Stooping, awkward in the clumsy armor, he put the transparent plastic -of his helmet to the ground. Its cold bit at him even through the -insulating material. He might be able to hear the footsteps of his -murderer conducted through the ground. - -Stillness answered him. He gulped a heavy lungful of tainted air -and rose. The other might be miles away yet, or perhaps very close, -catfooting too softly to set up vibrations. A man could do that when -gravity was feeble enough. - -The stars blazed with a cruel wintry brilliance, over him, around -him, light-years to fall through emptiness before he reached one. He -had been alone among them before; he had almost thought them friends. -Sometimes, on a long watch, a man found himself talking to Vega or -Spica or dear old Beetle Juice, murmuring what was in him as if the -remote sun could understand. But they didn't care, he saw that now. To -them, he did not exist, and they would shine carelessly long after he -was gone into night. - -He had never felt so alone as now, when another man was on the asteroid -with him, hunting him down. - -Bo Jonsson looked at the wrench in his hand. It was long and massive, -it would have been heavy on Earth, but it was hardly enough to unscrew -the stars and reset the machinery of a universe gone awry. He smiled -stiffly at the thought. He wanted to laugh too, but checked himself for -fear he wouldn't be able to stop. - -_Let's face it_, he told himself. _You're scared. You're scared -sweatless._ He wondered if he had spoken it aloud. - -There was plenty of room on the asteroid. At least two hundred square -miles, probably more if you allowed for the rough surface. He could -skulk around, hide ... and suffocate when his tanked air gave out. He -had to be a hunter, too, and track down the other man, before he died. -And if he found his enemy, he would probably die anyway. - -He looked about him. Nothing. No sound, no movement, nothing but the -streaming of the constellations as the asteroid spun. Nothing had ever -moved here, since the beginning of time when moltenness congealed into -death. Not till men came and hunted each other. - -Slowly he forced himself to move. The thrust of his foot sent him -up, looping over the cliff to drift down like a dead leaf in Earth's -October. Suit, equipment, and his own body, all together, weighed only -a couple of pounds here. It was ghostly, this soundless progress over -fields which had never known life. It was like being dead already. - -Bo Jonsson's tongue was dry and thick in his mouth. He wanted to -find his enemy and give up, buy existence at whatever price it would -command. But he couldn't do that. Even if the other man let him do it, -which was doubtful, he couldn't. Johnny Malone was dead. - -Maybe that was what had started it all--the death of Johnny Malone. - - * * * * * - -There are numerous reasons for basing on the Trojan asteroids, but -the main one can be given in a single word: stability. They stay put -in Jupiter's orbit, about sixty degrees ahead and behind, with only -minor oscillations; spaceships need not waste fuel coming up to a body -which has been perturbed a goodly distance from where it was supposed -to be. The trailing group is the jumping-off place for trans-Jovian -planets, the leading group for the inner worlds--that way, their own -revolution about the sun gives the departing ship a welcome boost, -while minimizing the effects of Jupiter's drag. - -Moreover, being dense clusters, they have attracted swarms of miners, -so that Achilles among the leaders and Patroclus in the trailers have a -permanent boom town atmosphere. Even though a spaceship and equipment -represent a large investment, this is one of the last strongholds of -genuinely private enterprise: the prospector, the mine owner, the -rockhound dreaming of the day when his stake is big enough for him to -start out on his own--a race of individualists, rough and noisy and -jealous, but living under iron rules of hospitality and rescue. - -The Last Chance on Achilles has another name, which simply sticks an -"r" in the official one; even for that planetoid, it is a rowdy bar -where Guardsmen come in trios. But Johnny Malone liked it, and talked -Bo Jonsson into going there for a final spree before checkoff and -departure. "Nothing to compare," he insisted. "Every place else is -getting too fantangling civilized, except Venus, and I don't enjoy -Venus." - -Johnny was from Luna City himself: a small, dark man with the quick -nervous movements and dipped accent of that roaring commercial -metropolis. He affected the latest styles, brilliant colors in the -flowing tunic and slacks, a beret cocked on his sleek head. But somehow -he didn't grate on Bo, they had been partners for several years now. - -They pushed through a milling crowd at the bar, rockhounds who watched -one of Achilles' three live ecdysiasts with hungry eyes, and by some -miracle found an empty booth. Bo squeezed his bulk into one side of the -cubicle while Johnny, squinting through a reeking smoke-haze, dialed -drinks. Bo was larger and heavier than most spacemen--he'd never have -gotten his certificate before the ion drive came in--and was usually -content to let others talk while he listened. A placid blond giant, -with amiable blue eyes in a battered brown face, he did not consider -himself bright, and always wanted to learn. - -Johnny gulped his drink and winced. "Whiskey, they call it yet! Water, -synthetic alcohol, and a dash of caramel they have the gall to label -whiskey and charge for!" - -"Everything's expensive here," said Bo mildly. "That's why so few -rockhounds get rich. They make a lot of money, but they have to spend -it just as fast to stay alive." - -"Yeh ... yeh ... wish they'd spend some of it on us." Johnny grinned -and fed the dispenser another coin. It muttered to itself and slid -forth a tray with a glass. "C'mon, drink up, man. It's a long way home, -and we've got to fortify ourselves for the trip. A bottle, a battle, -and a wench is what I need. Most especially the wench, because I don't -think the eminent Dr. McKittrick is gonna be interested in sociability, -and it's close quarters aboard the _Dog_." - -Bo kept on sipping slowly. "Johnny," he said, raising his voice to cut -through the din, "you're an educated man. I never could figure out why -you want to talk like a jumper." - -"Because I am one at heart. Look, Bo, why don't you get over that -inferiority complex of yours? A man can't run a spaceship without -knowing more math and physical science than the average professor on -Earth. So you had to work your way through the Academy and never had a -chance to fan yourself with a lily white hand while somebody tootled -Mozart through a horn. So what?" Johnny's head darted around, birdlike. -"If we want some women we'd better make our reservations now." - -"I don't, Johnny," said Bo. "I'll just nurse a beer." It wasn't morals -so much as fastidiousness; he'd wait till they hit Luna. - -"Suit yourself. If you don't want to uphold the honor of the Sirius -Transportation Company--" - -Bo chuckled. The Company consisted of (a) the _Sirius_; (b) her crew, -himself and Johnny; (c) a warehouse, berth, and three other part owners -back in Luna City. Not exactly a tramp ship, because you can't normally -stop in the middle of an interplanetary voyage and head for somewhere -else; but she went wherever there was cargo or people to be moved. -Her margin of profit was not great in spite of the charges, for a -space trip is expensive; but in a few more years they'd be able to buy -another ship or two, and eventually Fireball and Triplanetary would be -getting some competition. Even the public lines might have to worry a -little. - -Johnny put away another couple of shots and rose. Alcohol cost plenty, -but it was also more effective in low-gee. "'Scuse me," he said. "I see -a target. Sure you don't want me to ask if she has a friend?" - -Bo shook his head and watched his partner move off, swift in the puny -gravity--the Last Chance didn't centrifuge like some of the tommicker -places downtown. It was hard to push through the crowd without weight -to help, but Johnny faded along and edged up to the girl with his -highest-powered smile. There were several other men standing around -her, but Johnny had The Touch. He'd be bringing her back here in a few -minutes. - -Bo sighed, feeling a bit lonesome. If he wasn't going to make a night -of it, there was no point in drinking heavily. He had to make the final -inspection of the ship tomorrow, and grudged the cost of anti-hangover -tablets. Besides what he was putting back into the business, he was -trying to build a private hoard; some day, he'd retire and get married -and build a house. He already had the site picked out, on Kullen -overlooking the Sound, back on Earth. Man, but it was a long time since -he'd been on Earth! - -A sharp noise slashed through the haze of talk and music Bo looked up. -There was a tall black haired man, Venusian to judge by his kilts, -arguing with Johnny. His face was ugly with anger. - -Johnny made some reply. Bo heaved up his form and strode toward the -discussion, casually picking up anyone in the way and setting him -aside. Johnny liked a fight, but this Venusian was big. - -As he neared, he caught words: "--my girl, dammit." - -"Like hell I am!" said the girl. "I never saw you before--" - -"Run along and play, son," said Johnny. "Or do you want me to change -that diaper of yours?" - -That was when it happened. Bo saw the little needler spit from the -Venusian's fingers. Johnny stood there a moment, looking foolishly at -the dart in his stomach. Then his knees buckled and he fell with a -nightmare slowness. - -The Venusian was already on the move. He sprang straight up, slammed a -kick at the wall, and arced out the door into the dome corridor beyond. -_A spaceman, that. Knows how to handle himself in low-gee._ It was the -only clear thought which ran in the sudden storm of Bo's head. - -The girl screamed. A man cursed and tried to follow the Venusian. -He tangled with another. "Get outta my way!" A roar lifted, someone -slugged, someone else coolly smashed a bottle against the bar and -lifted the jagged end. There was the noise of a fist meeting flesh. - -Bo had seen death before. That needle wasn't anesthetic, it was poison. -He knelt in the riot with Johnny's body in his arms. - - - II - -Suddenly the world came to an end. There was a sheer drop-off onto the -next face of the rough cube which was the asteroid. Bo lay on his belly -and peered down the cliff, it ran for a couple of miles and beyond it -were the deeps of space and the cold stars. He could dimly see the -tortured swirl of crystallization patterns in the smooth bareness. No -place to hide; his enemy was not there. - -He turned the thought over in a mind which seemed stiff and slow. By -crossing that little plain he was exposing himself to a shot from one -of its edges. On the other hand, he could just as well be bushwhacked -from a ravine as he jumped over. And this route was the fastest for -completing his search scheme. - -The Great Bear slid into sight, down under the world as it turned. He -had often stood on winter nights, back in Sweden, and seen its immense -sprawl across the weird flicker of aurora; but even then he wanted the -spaceman's experience of seeing it from above. Well, now he had his -wish, and much good it had done him. - -He went over the edge of the cliff, cautiously, for it wouldn't take -much of an impetus to throw him off this rock entirely. Then his -helpless and soon frozen body would be just another meteor for the next -million years. The vague downward sensation of gravity shifted insanely -as he moved; he had the feeling that the world was tilting around him. -Now it was the precipice which was a scarred black plain underfoot, -reaching to a saw-toothed bluff at its farther edge. - -He moved with flat low-gee bounds. Besides the danger of springing off -the asteroid entirely, there was its low acceleration to keep a man -near the ground; jump up a few feet and it would take you a while to -fall back. It was utterly silent around him. He had never thought there -could be so much stillness. - -He was halfway across when the bullet came. He saw no flash, heard -no crack, but suddenly the fissured land before him exploded in a -soundless shower of chips. The bullet ricocheted flatly, heading off -for outer space. No meteor gravel, that! - -Bo stood unmoving an instant, fighting the impulse to leap away. He was -a spaceman, not a rockhound; he wasn't used to this environment, and if -he jumped high he could be riddled as he fell slowly down again. Sweat -was cold on his body. He squinted, trying to see where the shot had -come from. - -Suddenly he was zigzagging off across the plain toward the nearest -edge. Another bullet pocked the ground near him. The sun rose, a tiny -heatless dazzle blinding in his eyes. - -Fire crashed at his back. Thunder and darkness exploded before him. He -lurched forward, driven by the impact. Something was roaring, echoes -clamorous in his helmet. He grew dimly aware that it was himself. Then -he was falling, whirling down into the black between the stars. - -There was a knife in his back, it was white-hot and twisting between -the ribs. He stumbled over the edge of the plain and fell, waking when -his armor bounced a little against stone. - -Breath rattled in his throat as he turned his head. There was a white -plume standing over his shoulder, air streaming out through the hole -and freezing its moisture. The knife in him was not hot, it was cold -with an ultimate cold. - -Around him, world and stars rippled as if seen through heat, through -fever. He hung on the edge of creation by his fingertips, while chaos -shouted beneath. - - * * * * * - -Theoretically, one man can run a spaceship, but in practice two -or three are required for non-military craft. This is not only an -emergency reserve, but a preventive of emergencies, for one man alone -might get too tired at the critical moments. Bo knew he wouldn't be -allowed to leave Achilles without a certified partner, and unemployed -spacemen available for immediate hiring are found once in a Venusian -snowfall. - -Bo didn't care the first day. He had taken Johnny out to Helmet Hill -and laid him in the barren ground to wait, unchanging now, till -Judgement Day. He felt empty then, drained of grief and hope alike, -his main thought a dull dread of having to tell Johnny's father when -he reached Luna. He was too slow and clumsy with words; his comforting -hand would only break the old man's back. Old Malone had given six sons -to space, Johnny was the last; from Saturn to the sun, his blood was -strewn for nothing. - -It hardly seemed to matter that the Guards office reported itself -unable to find the murderer. A single Venusian should have been easy to -trace on Achilles, but he seemed to have vanished completely. - -Bo returned to the transient quarters and dialed Valeria McKittrick. -She looked impatiently at him out of the screen. "Well," she said, -"what's the matter? I thought we were blasting today." - -"Hadn't you heard?" asked Bo. He found it hard to believe she could -be ignorant, here where everybody's life was known to everybody else. -"Johnny's dead. We can't leave." - -"Oh ... I'm sorry. He was such a nice little man--I've been in the lab -all the time, packing my things, and didn't know." A frown crossed her -clear brow. "But you've got to get me back. I've engaged passage to -Luna with you." - -"Your ticket will be refunded, of course," said Bo heavily. "But you -aren't certified, and the _Sirius_ is licensed for no less than two -operators." - -"Well ... damn! There won't be another berth for weeks, and I've _got_ -to get home. Can't you find somebody?" - -Bo shrugged, not caring much. "I'll circulate an ad if you want, but--" - -"Do so, please. Let me know." She switched off. - -Bo sat for a moment thinking about her. Valeria McKittrick was worth -considering. She wasn't beautiful in any conventional sense but she was -tall and well built; there were good lines in the strong high boned -face, and her hair was a cataract of spectacular red. And brains, -too ... you didn't get to be a physicist with the Union's radiation -labs for nothing. He knew she was still young, and that she had been on -Achilles for about a year working on some special project and was now -ready to go home. - -She was human enough, had been to most of the officers' parties and -danced and laughed and flirted mildly, but even the dullest rockhound -gossip knew she was too lost in her work to do more. Out here a woman -was rare, and a virtuous woman unheard-of; as a result, unknown to -herself, Dr. McKittrick's fame had spread through more thousands of -people and millions of miles than her professional achievements were -ever likely to reach. - -Since coming here, on commission from the Lunar lab, to bring her -home, Bo Jonsson had given her an occasional wistful thought. He liked -intelligent women, and he was getting tired of rootlessness. But of -course it would be a catastrophe if he fell in love with her because -she wouldn't look twice at a big dumb slob like him. He had sweated out -a couple of similar affairs in the past and didn't want to go through -another. - -He placed his ad on the radinews circuit and then went out to get -drunk. It was all he could do for Johnny now, drink him a final -wassail. Already his friend was cold under the stars. In the course of -the evening he found himself weeping. - -He woke up many hours later. Achilles ran on Earth time but did not -rotate on it; officially, it was late at night, actually the shrunken -sun was high over the domes. The man in the upper bunk said there was a -message for him; he was to call one Einar Lundgard at the Comet Hotel -soonest. - -The Comet! Anyone who could afford a room to himself here, rather than -a kip in the public barracks, was well fueled. Bo swallowed a tablet -and made his way to the visi and dialed. The robo-clerk summoned -Lundgard down to the desk. - -It was a lean, muscular face under close cropped brown hair which -appeared in the screen. Lundgard was a tall and supple man, somehow -neat even without clothes. "Jonsson," said Bo. "Sorry to get you up, -but I understood--" - -"Oh, yes. Are you looking for a spaceman? I heard your ad and I'm -available." - -Bo felt his mouth gape open. "Huh? I never thought--" - -"We're both lucky, I guess." Lundgard chuckled. His English had only -the slightest trace of accent, less than Bo's. "I thought I was stashed -here too for the next several months." - -"How does a qualified spaceman happen to be marooned?" - -"I'm with Fireball, was on the _Drake_--heard of what happened to her?" - -Bo nodded, for every spaceman knows exactly what every spaceship is -doing at any given time. The _Drake_ had come to Achilles to pick up -a cargo of refined thorium for Earth; while she lay in orbit, she had -somehow lost a few hundred pounds of reaction-mass water from a cracked -gasket. Why the accident should have occurred, nobody knew ... spacemen -were not careless about inspections, and what reason would anyone have -for sabotage? The event had taken place about a month ago, when the -_Sirius_ was already enroute here; Bo had heard of it in the course of -shop talk. - -"I thought she went back anyway," he said. - -Lundgard nodded. "She did. It was the usual question of economics. -You know what refined fuel water costs in the Belt; also, the delay -while we got it would have carried Earth and Achilles past optimum -position, which'd make the trip home that much more expensive. Since we -had one more man aboard than really required, it was cheaper to leave -him behind; the difference in mass would make up for the fuel loss. I -volunteered, even suggested the idea, because ... well, it happened -during my watch, and even if nobody blamed me I couldn't help feeling -guilty." - -Bo understood that kind of loyalty. You couldn't travel space without -men who had it. - -"The Company beamed a message: I'd stay here till their schedule -permitted an undermanned ship to come by, but that wouldn't be for -maybe months," went on Lundgard. "I can't see sitting on this lump that -long without so much as a chance at planetfall bonus. If you'll take me -on, I'm sure the Company will agree; I'll get a message to them on the -beam right away." - -"Take us a while to get back," warned Bo. "We're going to stop off at -another asteroid to pick up some automatic equipment, and won't go into -hyperbolic orbit till after that. About six weeks from here to Earth, -all told." - -"Against six months here?" Lundgard laughed; it emphasized the bright -charm of his manner. "Sunblaze. I'll work for free." - -"No need to. Bring your papers over tomorrow, huh?" - -The certificate and record were perfectly in order, showing Einar -Lundgard to be a Spacetech 1/cl with eight years' experience, -qualified as engineer, astronaut, pilot, and any other of the thousand -professions which have run into one. They registered articles and shook -hands on it. "Call me Bo. It really is my name ... Swedish." - -"Another squarehead, eh?" grinned Lundgard. "I'm from South America -myself." - -"Notice a year's gap here," said Bo, pointing to the service record. -"On Venus." - -"Oh, yes. I had some fool idea about settling but soon learned better. -I tried to farm, but when you have to carve your own land out of -howling desert--Well, let's start some math, shall we?" - -They were lucky, not having to wait their turn at the station computer; -no other ship was leaving immediately. They fed it the data and -requirements, and got back columns of numbers: fuel requirements, -acceleration times, orbital elements. The figures always had to be -modified, no trip ever turned out just as predicted, but that could be -done when needed with a slipstick and the little ship's calculator. - -Bo went at his share of the job doggedly, checking and re-checking -before giving the problem to the machine; Lundgard breezed through it -and spent his time while waiting for Bo in swapping dirty limericks -with the tech. He had some good ones. - -The _Sirius_ was loaded, inspected, and cleared. A "scooter" brought -her three passengers up to her orbit, they embarked, settled down, and -waited. At the proper time, acceleration jammed them back in a thunder -of rockets. - -Bo relaxed against the thrust, thinking of Achilles falling away behind -them. "So long," he whispered. "So long, Johnny." - - - III - -In another minute, he would be knotted and screaming from the bends, -and a couple of minutes later he would be dead. - -Bo clamped his teeth together, as if he would grip consciousness in -his jaws. His hands felt cold and heavy, the hands of a stranger, as -he fumbled for the supply pouch. It seemed to recede from him, down a -hollow infinite corridor where echoes talked in a language he did not -know. - -"Damn," he gasped. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn." - -He got the pouch open somehow. The stars wheeled around him. There -were stars buzzing in his head, like cold white fireflies, buzzing and -buzzing in the enormous ringing emptiness of his skull. Pain jagged -through him, he felt his eardrums popping as pressure dropped. - -The plastic patch stuck to his metal gauntlet. He peeled it off, trying -not to howl with the fury ripping in his nerves. His body was slow, -inert, a thing to fight. There was no more feeling in his back, was he -dead already? - -Redness flamed before his eyes, red like Valeria's hair blowing across -the stars. It was sheer reflex which brought his arm around to slap the -patch over the hole in his suit. The adhesive gripped, drying fast in -the sucking vacuum. The patch bellied out from internal air pressure, -straining to break loose and kill him. - -Bo's mind wavered back toward life. He opened the valves wide on his -tanks, and his thermostatic capacitors pumped heat back into him. For -a long time he lay there, only lungs and heart had motion. His throat -felt withered and flayed, but the rasp of air through it was like being -born again. - -Born, spewed out of an iron womb into a hollowness of stars and cold, -to lie on naked rock while the enemy hunted him. Bo shuddered and -wanted to scream again. - -Slowly he groped back toward awareness. His frostbitten back tingled -as it warmed up again, soon it would be afire. He could feel a hot -trickling of blood, but it was along his right side. The bullet must -have spent most of its force punching through the armor, caromed off -the inside, scratched his ribs, and fallen dead. Next time he probably -wouldn't be so lucky. A magnetic-driven .30 slug would go through -a helmet, splashing brains as it passed. - -He turned his head, feeling a great weariness, and looked at the -gauges. This had cost him a lot of air. There was only about three -hours worth left. Lundgard could kill him simply by waiting. - -It would be easy to die. He lay on his back, staring up at the stars -and the spilling cloudy glory of the Milky Way. A warmth was creeping -back into numbed hands and feet; soon he would be warm all over, and -sleepy. His eyelids felt heavy, strange that they should be so heavy on -an asteroid. - -He wanted terribly to sleep. - - * * * * * - -There wasn't much room in the _Sirius_, the only privacy was gained by -drawing curtains across your bunk. Men without psych training could -get to hate each other on a voyage. Bo wondered if he would reach Luna -hating Einar Lundgard. - -The man was competent, a willing worker, tempering his cheerfulness -with tact, always immaculate in the neat blue and white of the Fireball -Line which made Bo feel doubly sloppy in his own old gray coverall. He -was a fine conversationalist with an enormous stock of reminiscence and -ideas, witty above a certain passion of belief. It seemed as if he and -Valeria were always talking, animated voices like a sound of life over -the mechanical ship-murmurs, while Bo sat dumbly in a corner wishing he -could think of something to say. - -The trouble was, in spite of all his efforts, he was doing a cometary -dive into another bad case of one-sided love. When she spoke in that -husky voice of hers, gray gleam of eyes under hair that floated flaming -in null-gee, the beauty he saw in her was like pain. And she was always -around. It couldn't be helped. Once they had gone into free fall he -could only polish so much metal and tinker with so many appliances; -after that they were crowded together in a long waiting. - ---"And why were you all alone in the Belt?" asked Lundgard. "In spite -of all the romantic stories about the wild free life of the rockhound, -it's the dullest place in the System." - -"Not to me," she smiled. "I was working. There were experiments to be -done, factors to be measured, away from solar radiation. There are -always ions around inside the orbit of Mars to jamble up a delicate -apparatus." - -Bo sat quiet, trying to keep his eyes off her. She looked good in -shorts and half-cape. Too good. - -"It's something to do with power beaming, isn't it?" Lundgard's -handsome face creased in a frown. "Afraid I don't quite understand. -They've been beaming power on the planets for a long time now." - -"So they have," she nodded. "What we're after is an interplanetary -power beam. And we've got it." She gestured to the baggage rack and a -thick trunk full of papers she had put there. "That's it. The basic -circuits, factors, and constants. Any competent engineer could draw up -a design from them." - -"Hmmm ... precision work, eh?" - -"Obviously! It was hard enough to do on, say, Earth--you need a -_really_ tight beam in just the right frequencies, a feedback signal -to direct each beam at the desired outlet, relay stations--oh, yes, -it was a ten-year research project before they could even think about -building. An interplanetary beam has all those problems plus a number -of its own. You have to get the dispersion down to a figure so low -it hardly seems possible. You can't use feedback because of the time -lag, so the beams have to be aimed _exactly_ right--and the planets -are always moving, at miles per second. An error of one degree would -throw your beam almost two million miles off in crossing one A.U. And -besides being so precise, the beam has to carry a begawatt at least to -be worth the trouble. The problem looked insoluble till someone in the -Order of Planetary Engineers came up with an idea for a trick control -circuit hooked into a special computer. My lab's been working together -with the Order on it, and I was making certain final determinations for -them. It's finished now ... twelve years of work and we're done." She -laughed. "Except for building the stations and getting the bugs out!" - - * * * * * - -Lundgard cocked an oddly sardonic brow. "And what do you hope for from -it?" he asked. "What have the psychotechs decided to do with this -thing?" - -"Isn't it obvious?" she cried. "Power! Nuclear fuel is getting scarcer -every day, and civilization is finished if we can't find another energy -source. The sun is pouring out more than we'll ever need, but sheer -distance dilutes it below a useful level by the time it gets to Venus. - -"We'll build stations on the hot side of Mercury. Orbital stations -can relay. We can get the beams as far out as Mars without too much -dispersion. It'll bring down the rising price of atomic energy, which -is making all other prices rise, and stretch our supply of fissionables -for centuries more. No more fuel worries, no more Martians freezing to -death because a converter fails, no more clan feuds on Venus starting -over uranium beds--" The excited flush on her cheeks was lovely to look -at. - -Lundgard shook his head. There was a sadness in his smile. "You're -a true child of the New Enlightenment," he said. "Reason will solve -everything. Science will find a cure for all our ills. Give man a cheap -energy source and leave him forever happy. It won't work, you know." - -Something like anger crossed her eyes. "What are you?" she asked. "A -Humanist?" - -"Yes," said Lundgard quietly. - -Bo started. He'd known about the anti-psychotechnic movement which was -growing on Earth, seen a few of its adherents, but-- - -"I never thought a spaceman would be a Humanist," he stammered. - -Lundgard shrugged wryly. "Don't be afraid. I don't eat babies. I don't -even get hysterics in an argument. All I've done is use the scientific -method, observing the world without preconceptions, and learned by it -that the scientific method doesn't have all the answers." - -"Instead," said Valeria, scornfully, "we should all go back to church -and pray for what we want rather than working for it." - -"Not at all," said Lundgard mildly. "The New Enlightenment is--or was, -because it's dying--a very natural state of mind. Here Earth had come -out of the World Wars, racked and ruined, starving and chaotic, and -all because of unbridled ideology. So the physical scientists produced -goods and machines and conquered the planets; the biologists found -new food sources and new cures for disease; the psychotechs built up -their knowledge to a point where the socio-economic unity could really -be planned and the plan worked. Man was unified, war had sunken to an -occasional small 'police action,' people were eating and had comfort -and security--all through applied, working science. Naturally they came -to believe reason would solve their remaining problems. But this faith -in reason was itself an emotional reaction from the preceding age of -unreason. - -"Well, we've had a century of enlightenment now, and it has created its -own troubles which it cannot solve. No age can handle the difficulties -it raises for itself; that's left to the next era. There are practical -problems arising, and no matter how desperately the psychotechs work -they aren't succeeding with them." - -"What problems?" asked Bo, feeling a little bewildered. - -"Man, don't you ever see a newscast?" challenged Lundgard. "The Second -Industrial Revolution, millions of people thrown out of work by the -new automata. They aren't going hungry, but they are displaced and -bitter. The economic center of Earth is shifting to Asia, the political -power with it, and hundreds of millions of Asians are skeptical aboard -this antiseptic New Order the West has been bringing them: cultural -resistance, and not all the psychotechnic propaganda in the System can -shake it off. The men of Mars, Venus, the Belt, the Jovian moons are -developing their own civilizations--inevitably, in alien environments; -their own ways of living and thinking, which just don't fit into -the neat scheme of an Earth-dominated Solar Union. The psychotechs -themselves are being driven to oligarchic, unconstitutional acts; they -have no choice, but it's making them enemies. - -"And then there's the normal human energy and drive. Man can only -be safe and sane and secure for so long, then he reacts. This New -Enlightenment is really a decadent age, a period where an exhausted -civilization has been resting under a holy status quo. It can't last. -Man always wants something new." - -"You Humanists talk a lot about 'man's right to variability,'" said -Valeria. "If you really carry off that revolution your writings -advocate you'll just trade one power group for another--and more -fanatic, less lawful, than the present one." - -"Not necessarily," said Lundgard. "After all, the Union will probably -break up. It can't last forever. All we want to do is hasten the day -because we feel that it's outlived its usefulness." - -Bo shook his head. "I can't see it," he said heavily. "I just can't -see it. All those people--the Lunarites, the violent clansmen on -Venus, the stiff correct Martians, the asteroid rockhounds, even those -mysterious Jovians--they all came from Earth. It was Earth's help that -made their planets habitable. We're all men, all one race." - -"A fiction," said Lundgard. "The human race is a fiction. There are -only small groups with their own conflicting interests." - -"And if those conflicts are allowed to break into war--" said Valeria. -"Do you know what a lithium bomb can do?" - -There was a reckless gleam in Lundgard's eyes. "If a period of -interplanetary wars is necessary, let's get it over with," he answered. -"Enough men will survive to build something better. This age has -gotten stale. It's petrifying. There have been plenty of shake-ups in -history--the fall of Rome, the Reformation, the Napoleonic Wars, the -World Wars. It's been man's way of progressing." - -"I don't know about all those," said Bo slowly. "I just know I wouldn't -want to live through such a time." - -"You're soft," said Lundgard. "Down underneath you're soft." He laughed -disarmingly. "Pardon me. I didn't mean anything personal. I'll never -convince you and you'll never convince me, so let's keep it friendly. I -hope you'll have some free time on Luna, Valeria. I know a little grill -where they serve the best synthosteaks in the System." - -"All right," she smiled. "It's a date." - -Bo mumbled some excuse and went aft. He was still calling her Dr. -McKittrick. - - - IV - -You can't just lie here and let him come kill you. - -There was a picture behind his eyes; he didn't know if it was a dream -or a long buried memory. He stood under an aspen which quivered and -rustled as if it laughed to itself softly, softly, when the wind -embraced it. And the wind was blowing up a red granite slope, wild -and salt from the Sound, and there were towering clouds lifting over -Denmark to the west. The sunlight rained and streamed through aspen -leaves, broken, shaken, falling in spatters against the earth, and -he, Bo Jonsson, laughed with the wind and the tree and the far watery -glitter of the Sound. - -He opened his eyes, wearily, like an old man. Orion was marching past, -and there was a blaze on crags five miles off which told of the rising -sun. The asteroid spun swiftly; he had been here for many of its days -now, and each day burdened him like a year. - -Got to get out of here, he knew. - -He sat up, pain tearing along his furrowed breast. Somehow he had kept -the wrench with him, he stared at it in a dull wonder. - -Where to go, where to hide, what to do? - -Thirst nagged him. Slowly he uncoiled the tube which led from the -electrically heated canteen welded to his suit, screwed its end into -the helmet nipple, thumbed down the clamp which closed it, and sucked -hard. It helped a little. - -He dragged himself to his feet and stood swaying, only the -near-weightlessness kept him erect. Turning his head in its transparent -cage, he saw the sun rise, and bright spots danced before him when he -looked away. - -His vision cleared, but for a moment he thought the shadow lifting over -a nearby ridge was a wisp of unconsciousness. Then he made out the -bulky black-painted edge of it, gigantic against the Milky Way, and it -was Lundgard, moving unhurriedly up to kill him. - -A dark laughter was in his radio earphones. "Take it easy, Bo. I'll be -there in a minute." - -He backed away, his heart a sudden thunder, looking for a place to -hide. Down! Get down and don't stand where he can see you! He crouched -as much as the armor would allow and broke into a bounding run. - -A slug spat broken stone near his feet. The powdery dust hung for -minutes before settling. Breath rattled in his throat. He saw the lip -of a meteoric crater and dove. - -Crouching there, he heard Lundgard's voice again: "You're somewhere -near. Why not come out and finish it now?" - -The radio was non-directional, so he snapped back: "A gun against a -monkey wrench?" - -Lundgard's coolness broke a little; there was almost a puzzled note: -"I hate to do this. Why can't you be reasonable? I don't want to kill -you." - -"The trouble," said Bo harshly, "is that I want to kill you." - -"Behold the man of the New Enlightenment!" Bo could imagine Lundgard's -grin. It would be tight, and there would be sweat on the lean face, but -the amusement was genuine. "Didn't you believe sweet reasonableness -could solve everything? This is only the beginning, Bo, just a small -preliminary hint that the age of reason is dying. I've already -converted you to my way of thinking, by the very fact you're fighting -me. Why not admit it?" - -Bo shook his head--futile gesture, looked in darkness where he lay. -There was a frosty blaze of stars when he looked up. - -It was more than himself and Johnny Malone, more even than the -principle of the thing and the catastrophe to all men which Lundgard's -victory meant. There was something deep and primitive which would not -let him surrender, even in the teeth of annihilation. Valeria's image -swayed before him. - -Lundgard was moving around, peering over the shadowy tumble of -blackened rock in search of any trace. There was a magnetic rifle in -his hands. Bo strained his helmet to the crater floor, trying to hear -ground vibrations, but there was nothing. He didn't know where Lundgard -was, only that he was very near. - -Blindly, he bundled his legs and sprang out of the pit. - - * * * * * - -They found the asteroid where Valeria had left her recording -instruments. It was a tiny drifting fragment of a world which had never -been born, turning endlessly between the constellations; the _Sirius_ -moored fast with grapples, and Valeria donned a spacesuit and went out -to get her apparatus. Lundgard accompanied her. As there was only work -for two, Bo stayed behind. - -He slumped for a while in the pilot chair, letting his mind pace -through a circle of futility. Valeria, Valeria, Valeria--O strong and -fair and never to be forgotten, would he ever see her again after they -made Luna? - -_This won't do_, he told himself dully. _I should at least keep busy. -Thank God for work._ - -He wasn't much of a thinker, he knew that, but he had cleverness in -his hands. It was satisfying to watch a machine come right under his -tools. Working, he could see the falseness of Lundgard's philosophy. -The man could quote history all he wanted; weave a glittering circle -of logic around Bo's awkward brain, but it didn't change facts. Maybe -this century was headed for trouble; maybe psychotechnic government was -only another human self-limitation and should be changed for something -else; nevertheless, the truth remained that most men were workers who -wished no more than peace in which to create as best they could. All -the high ideals in the universe weren't worth breaking the Union for -and smashing the work of human hands in a single burst of annihilating -flame. - -_I can feel it, down inside me. But why can't I say it?_ - -He got up and went over to the baggage rack, remembering that Lundgard -had dozens of book-reels along and that reading would help him not to -think about what he could never have. - -On a planet Bo would not have dreamed of helping himself without asking -first. But custom is different in space, where there is no privacy and -men must be a unit if they are to survive. He was faintly surprised -to see that Lundgard's personal suitcase was locked; but it would be -hours, probably, before the owner got back: dismantling a recorder -setup took time. A long time, in which to talk and laugh with Valeria. -In the chill spatial radiance, her hair would be like frosty fire. - -Casually, Bo stooped across to Lundgard's sack-hammock and took his key -ring off the hook. He opened the suitcase and lifted out some of the -reels in search of a promising title. - -Underneath them were neatly folded clothes, Fireball uniforms and fancy -dress pajamas. A tartan edge stuck out from below, and Bo lifted a coat -to see what clan that was. Probably a souvenir of Lundgard's Venusian -stay-- - -Next to the kilt was a box which he recognized. L-masks came in such -boxes. - -How the idea came to him, he did not know. He stood there for minutes, -looking at the box without seeing it. The ship was very quiet around -him. He had a sudden feeling that the walls were closing in. - -When he opened the box, his hands shook, and there was sweat trickling -along his ribs. - -The mask was of the latest type, meant to fit over the head, snug -around the cheeks and mouth and jaws. It was like a second skin, -reflecting expression, not to be told from a real face. Bo saw the -craggy nose and the shock of dark hair, limp now, but-- - -Suddenly he was back on Achilles, with riot roaring around him and -Johnny Malone's body in his arms. - -No wonder they never found that Venusian. There never was any. - -Bo felt a dim shock when he looked at the chronometer. Only five -minutes had gone by while he stood there. Only five minutes to turn the -cosmos inside out. - -Very slowly and carefully he repacked the suitcase and put it in the -rack and sat down to think. - -What to do? - -Accuse Lundgard to his face--no, the man undoubtedly carried that -needler. And there was Valeria to think of. A ricocheting dart, a -scratch on her, no! It took Bo a long time to decide; his brain seemed -viscous. When he looked out of a port to the indifferent stars, he -shuddered. - - * * * * * - -They came back, shedding their spacesuits in the airlock; frost -whitened the armor as moisture condensed on chilled surfaces. The metal -seemed to breathe cold. Valeria went efficiently to work, stowing the -boxed instruments as carefully as if they were her children. There was -a laughter on her lips which turned Bo's heart around inside him. - -Lundgard leaned over the tiny desk where he sat. "What y' doing?" he -asked. - -"Recalculating our orbit to Luna," said Bo. "I want to go slow for a -few million miles before going up to hyperbolic speed." - -"Why? It'll add days to the trip, and the fuel--" - -"I ... I'm afraid we might barge into Swarm 770. It's supposed to be -near here now and, uh, the positions of those things are never known -for sure ... perturbations...." Bo's mouth felt dry. - -"You've got a megamile of safety margin or your orbit would never have -been approved," argued Lundgard. - -"Hell damn it, I'm the captain!" yelled Bo. - -"All right, all right ... take it easy, skipper." Lundgard shot a -humorous glance at Valeria. "I certainly don't mind a few extra days -in ... the present company." - -She smiled at him. Bo felt ill. - -His excuse was thin; if Lundgard thought to check the ephemeris, it -would fall to ruin. But he couldn't tell the real reason. - -An iron-drive ship does not need to drift along the economical Hohmann -"A" orbit of the big freighters; it can build up such furious speed -that the sun will swing it along a hyperbola rather than an ellipse, -and can still brake that speed near its destination. But the critical -stage of acceleration has to be just right, or there will not be enough -fuel to stop completely; the ship will be pulled into a cometary orbit -and run helpless, the crew probably starving before a rescue vessel can -locate them. Bo dared not risk the trouble exploding at full drive; he -would drift along, capture and bind Lundgard at the first chance, and -then head for Earth. He could handle the _Sirius_ alone even if it was -illegal; he could not handle her if he had to fight simultaneously. - -His knuckles were white on the controls as he loosed the grapples and -nudged away from the asteroid with a whisper of power. After a few -minutes of low acceleration, he cut the rockets, checked position and -velocity, and nodded. "On orbit," he said mechanically. "It's your turn -to cook, Ei ... Einar." - -Lundgard swooped easily through the air into the cubbyhole which served -for a galley. Cooking in free fall is an art which not all spacemen -master, but he could--his meals were even good. Bo felt a helpless kind -of rage at his own clumsy efforts. - -He crouched in midair, dark of mind, a leg hooked around a stanchion to -keep from drifting. - -When someone touched him, his heart jumped and he whirled around. - -"What's the matter, Bo?" asked Valeria. "You look like doomsday." - -"I ... I...." He gulped noisily and twisted his mouth into a smile. -"Just feeling a little off." - -"It's more than that, I think." Her eyes were grave. "You've seemed so -unhappy the whole trip. Is there anything I can do to help?" - -"Thanks ... Dr. McKittrick ... but--" - -"Don't be so formal," she said, almost wistfully. "I don't bite. Too -many men think I do. Can't we be friends?" - -"With a thick-headed clinker like me?" His whisper was raw. - -"Don't be silly. It takes brains to be a spaceman. I like a man who -knows when to be quiet." She lowered her eyes, the lashes were long -and sooty black. "There's something solid about you, something so few -people seem to have these days. I wish you wouldn't go feeling so -inferior." - -At any other time it would have been a sunburst in him. Now he thought -of death, and mumbled something and looked away. A hurt expression -crossed her face. "I won't bother you," she said gently, and moved off. - -The thing was to fall on Lundgard while he slept-- - -The radar alarm buzzed during a dinner in which Lundgard's flow of talk -had battered vainly against silence and finally given up. Bo vaulted -over to the control panel and checked. No red light glowed, and the -auto-pilot wasn't whipping them out of danger, so they weren't on a -collision course. But the object was getting close. Bo calculated it -was an asteroid on an orbit almost parallel to their own, relative -speed only a few feet per second; it would come within ten miles or -so. In the magnifying periscope, it showed as a jagged dark cube, -turning around itself and flashing hard glints of sunlight off mica -beds--perhaps six miles square, all crags and cracks and fracture -faces, heatless and lifeless and kindless. - - - V - -Lundgard yawned elaborately after dinner. "Excuse," he said. "Unless -somebody's for chess?" His hopeful glance met the grimness of Bo and -the odd sadness of Valeria, and he shrugged. "All right, then. Pleasant -dreams." - -After ten minutes--_now!_ - -Bo uncoiled himself. "Valeria," he whispered, as if the name were holy. - -"Yes?" She arched her brows expectantly. - -"I can't stop to explain now. I've got to do something dangerous. Get -back aft of the gyro housing." - -"What?" - -"Get back!" Command blazed frantically in him. "And stay there, -whatever happens." - -Something like fear flickered in her eyes. It was a very long way to -human help. Then she nodded, puzzled but with an obedience which held -gallantry, and slipped out of sight behind the steel pillar. - -Bo launched himself across the room in a single null-gee bound. One -hand ripped aside Lundgard's curtain, the other got him by the throat. - -"What the hell--" - -Lundgard exploded into life. His fist crashed against Bo's cheek. Bo -held on with one hand and slugged with the other. Knuckles bounced on -rubbery muscle. Lundgard's arm snaked for the tunic stretched on his -bunk wall; his body came lithely out of the sack. Bo snatched for that -wrist. Lundgard's free hand came around, edged out to slam him in the -larynx. - -Pain ripped through Bo. He let go and sailed across the room. Lundgard -was pulling out his needler. - -Bo hit the opposite wall and rebounded--not for the armed man, but -for the control panel. Lundgard spat a dart at him. It burst on the -viewport over his shoulder, and Bo caught the acrid whiff of poison. -Then the converter was roaring to life and whining gyros spun the ship -around. - -Lundgard was hurled across the room. He collected himself, catlike, -grabbed a stanchion, and raised the gun again. "I've got the drop," he -said. "Get away from there or you're a dead man." - -It was as if someone else had seized Bo's body. Decision was like -lightning through him. He had tried to capture Lundgard, and failed, -and venom crouched at his back. But the ship was pointed for the -asteroid now, where it hung gloomily a dozen miles off, and the rockets -were ready to spew. - -"If you shoot me," said Bo, "I'll live just long enough to pour on the -juice. We'll hit that rock and scatter from hell to breakfast." - -Valeria emerged. Lundgard swung the needler to cover her. "Stay where -you are!" he rapped. - -"What's happening?" she said fearfully. - -"I don't know," said Lundgard. "Bo's gone crazy--attacked me--" - -Wrath boiled black in the pilot. He snarled, "You killed my partner. -You must'a been fixing to kill us too." - -"What do you mean?" whispered Valeria. - -"How should I know?" said Lundgard. "He's jumped his orbit, that's all. -Look, Bo, be reasonable. Get away from that panel--" - -"Look in his suitcase, Valeria." Bo forced the words out of a tautened -throat. "A Venusian shot my partner. You'll find his face and his -clothes in Lundgard's things. I'd know that face in the middle of the -sun." - -She hung for a long while, not moving. Bo couldn't see her. His eyes -were nailed to the asteroid, keeping the ship's nose pointed at it. - -"Is that true, Einar?" she asked finally. - -"No," he said. "Of course not. I do have Venusian clothes and a mask, -but--" - -"Then why are you keeping me covered too?" - -Lundgard didn't answer at once. The only noise was the murmur of -machinery and the dense breathing of three pairs of lungs. Then his -laugh jarred forth. - -"All right," he said. "I hadn't meant it to come yet, or to come this -way, but all right." - -"Why did you kill Johnny?" Tears stung Bo's eyes. "He never hurt you." - -"It was necessary." Lundgard's mouth twitched. "But you see, we knew -you were going to Achilles to pick up Valeria and her data. We needed -to get a man aboard your ship, to take over when her orbit brought -her close to our asteroid base. You've forced my hand--I wasn't going -to capture you for days yet. I sabotaged the _Drake's_ fuel tanks to -get myself stranded there, and shot your friend to get his berth. I'm -sorry." - -"Why?" Horror rode Valeria's voice. - -"I'm a Humanist. I've never made a secret of that. What our secret is, -is that some of us aren't content just to talk revolution. We want to -give this rotten, over-mechanized society the shove that will bring -on its end. We've built up a small force, not much as yet, not enough -to accomplish anything lasting. But if we had a solar power beam it -would make a big difference. It could be adapted to direct military -uses, as well as supplying energy to our machines. A lens effect, a -concentration of solar radiation strong enough to burn. Well, it seems -worth trying." - -"And what do you intend for us?" - -"You'll have to be kept prisoners for a while, of course," said -Lundgard. "It won't be onerous. We aren't beasts." - -"No," said Bo. "Just murderers." - -"Save the dramatics," snapped Lundgard. "I have the gun. Get away from -those controls." - -Bo shook his head. There was a wild hammering in his breast, but his -voice surprised him with steadiness: "No. I've got the upper hand. I -can kill you if you move. Yell if he tries anything, Valeria." - -Lundgard's eyes challenged her. "Do you want to die?" he asked. - -Her head lifted. "No," she said, "but I'm not afraid to. Go ahead if -you must, Bo. It's all right." - - * * * * * - -Bo felt cold. He knew he wouldn't. He was bluffing. In the final -showdown he could not crash her. He had seen too many withered space -drained mummies in his time. But maybe Lundgard didn't realize that. - -"Give up," he said. "You can't gain a damn thing. I'm not going to see -a billion people burned alive just to save our necks. Make a bargain -for your life." - -"No," said Lundgard with a curious gentleness. "I have my own brand of -honor. I'm not going to surrender to you. You can't sit there forever." - -Impasse. The ship floated through eternal silence while they waited. - -"All right," said Bo. "I'll fight you for the power beam." - -"How's that?" - -"I can throw this ship into orbit around the asteroid. We can go down -there and settle the thing between us. The winner can jump up here -again with the help of a jet of tanked air. The lump hasn't got much -gravity." - -Lundgard hesitated. "And how do I know you'll keep your end of the -bargain?" he asked. "You could let me go through the airlock, then -close it and blast off." - -Bo had had some such thought, but he might have known it wouldn't work. -"What do you suggest?" he countered, never taking his eyes off the -planetoid. "Remember, I don't trust you either." - -Lundgard laughed suddenly, a hard yelping bark. "I know! Valeria, go -aft and remove all the control-rod links and spares. Bring them back -here. I'll go out first, taking half of them with me, and Bo can follow -with the other half. He'll have to." - -"I--no! I won't," she whispered. "I can't let you--" - -"Go ahead and do it," said Bo. He felt a sudden vast weariness. "It's -the only way we can break this deadlock." - -She wept as she went toward the engine room. - -Lundgard's thought was good. Without linked control-rods, the converter -couldn't operate five minutes, it would flare up and melt itself and -kill everyone aboard in a flood of radiation. Whoever won the duel -could quickly re-install the necessary parts. - -There was a waiting silence. At last Lundgard said, almost -abstractedly: "Holmgang. Do you know what that means, Bo?" - -"No." - -"You ought to. It was a custom of our ancestors back in the early -Middle Ages--the Viking time. Two men would go off to a little island, -a holm, to settle their differences; one would come back. I never -thought it could happen out here." He chuckled bleakly. "Valkyries in -spacesuits?" - -The girl came back with the links tied in two bundles. Lundgard counted -them and nodded. "All right." He seemed strangely calm, an easy -assurance lay over him like armor. Bo's fear was cold in his belly, and -Valeria wept still with a helpless horror. - -The pilot used a safe two minutes of low blast to edge up to the -asteroid. "I'll go into the airlock and put on my spacesuit," said -Lundgard. "Then I'll jump down and you can put the ship in orbit. Don't -try anything while I'm changing, because I'll keep this needler handy." - -"It won't work against a spacesuit," said Bo. - -Lundgard laughed. "I know," he said. He kissed his hand to Valeria and -backed into the lock chamber. The outer valve closed behind him. - -"Bo!" Valeria grabbed the pilot by the shoulders, and he looked around -into her face. "You can't go out there, I won't let you, I--" - -"If I don't," he said tonelessly, "we'll orbit around here till we -starve." - -"But you could be killed!" - -"I hope not. For your sake, mostly, I hope not," he said awkwardly. -"But he won't have any more weapon than me, just a monkey wrench." -There was a metal tube welded to the leg of each suit for holding -tools; wrenches, the most commonly used, were simply left there as a -rule. "I'm bigger than he is." - -"But--" She laid her head on his breast and shuddered with crying. He -tried to comfort her. - -"All right," he said at last. "All right. Lundgard must be through. I'd -better get started." - -"Leave him!" she blazed. "His air won't last many hours. We can wait." - -"And when he sees he's been tricked, you think he won't wreck those -links? No. There's no way out." - -It was as if all his life he had walked on a road which had no -turnings, which led inevitably to this moment. - -He made some careful calculations from the instrument readings, -physical constants of the asteroid, and used another minute's -maneuvering to assume orbital velocity. Alarm lights blinked angry eyes -at him, the converter was heating up. No more traveling till the links -were restored. - -Bo floated from his chair toward the lock. "Good-bye, Valeria," he -said, feeling the bloodless weakness of words. "I hope it won't be for -long." - -She threw her arms about him and kissed him. The taste of tears was -still on his lips when he had dogged down his helmet. - -Opening the outer valve he moved forth, magnetic boots clamping to the -hull. A gulf of stars yawned around him, a cloudy halo about his head. -The stillness was smothering. - -When he was "over" the asteroid he gauged his position with a practiced -eye and jumped free. Falling, he thought mostly of Valeria. - -As he landed he looked around. No sign of Lundgard. The man could be -anywhere in these square miles of cosmic wreckage. He spoke tentatively -into his radio, in case Lundgard should be within the horizon: "Hello, -are you there?" - -"Yes. I'm coming." There was a sharp cruel note of laughter. "Sorry -to play this dirty, but there are bigger issues at stake than you or -me. I've kept a rifle in my tool-tube all the time ... just in case. -Good-bye, Bo." - -A slug smashed into the pinnacle behind him. Bo turned and ran. - - - VI - -As he rose over the lip of the crater, his head swung, seeking his -enemy. There! - -It was almost a reflex which brought his arm back and sent the wrench -hurtling across the few yards between. Before it had struck, Bo's feet -lashed against the pit edge, and the kick arced him toward Lundgard. - -Spacemen have to be good at throwing things. The wrench hit the lifted -rifle in a soundless shiver of metal, tore it loose from an insecure -gauntleted grasp and sent it spinning into shadow. Lundgard yelled, -spun on his heel, and dove after it. Then the flying body of Bo Jonsson -struck him. - -Even in low-gee, matter has all its inertia. The impact rang and boomed -within their armor, they swayed and fell to the ground, locking arms -and hammering futilely at helmets. Rolling over, Bo got on top, his -hands closed on Lundgard's throat--where the throat should have been, -but plastic and alloy held fast; instinct had betrayed him. - -Lundgard snarled, doubled his legs and kicked. Bo was sent staggering -back. Lundgard crawled erect and turned to look for the rifle. Bo -couldn't see it either in the near-solid blackness where no light fell, -but his wrench lay as a dark gleam. He sprang for that, closed a hand -on it, bounced up, and rushed at Lundgard. A swing shocked his own -muscles with its force, and Lundgard lurched. - -Bo moved in on him. Lundgard reached into his tool-tube and drew out -his own wrench. He circled, his panting hoarse in Bo's earphones. - -"This ... is the way ... it was supposed to be," said Bo. - -He jumped in, his weapon whirling down to shiver again on the other -helmet. Lundgard shook a dazed head and countered. The impact roared -and echoed in Bo's helmet, on into his skull. He smashed heavily. -Lundgard's lifted wrench parried the blow, it slid off. Like a fencer, -Lundgard snaked his shaft in and the reverberations were deafening. - -Bo braced himself and smote with all his power. The hit sang back -through iron and alloy, into his own bones. Lundgard staggered a -little, hunched himself and struck in return. - -They stood with feet braced apart, trading fury, a metal rain on -shivering plastic. The stuff was almost unbreakable, but not quite, not -for long when such violence dinned on it. Bo felt a lifting wild glee, -something savage he had never known before leaped up in him and he -bellowed. He was stronger, he could hit harder. Lundgard's helmet would -break first! - -The Humanist retreated, using his wrench like a sword, stopping the -force of blows without trying to deal more of his own. His left hand -fumbled at his side. Bo hardly noticed. He was pushing in, hewing, -hewing. Again the shrunken sun rose, to flash hard light off his club. - -Lundgard grinned, his face barely visible as highlight and shadow -behind the plastic. His raised tool turned one hit, it slipped along -his arm to rap his flank. Bo twisted his arm around, beat the other -wrench aside for a moment, and landed a crack like a thunderbolt. - -Then Lundgard had his drinking hose free, pointing in his left hand. He -thumbed down the clamp, exposing water at fifty degrees to naked space. - -It rushed forth, driven by its own vapor pressure, a stream like a -lance in the wan sunshine. When it hit Bo's helmet, most of it boiled -off ... cooling the rest, which froze instantly. - -Blindness clamped down on Bo. He leaped away, cursing, the front of his -helmet so frosted he could not see before him. Lundgard bounced around, -playing the hose on him. Through the rime-coat, Bo could make out only -a grayness. - -He pawed at it, trying to wipe it off, knowing that Lundgard was using -this captured minute to look for the rifle. As he got some of the ice -loose, he heard a sharp yell of victory--found! - -Turning, he ran again. - -Over that ridge! Down on your belly! A slug pocked the stone above him. -Rolling over, he got to his feet and bounded off toward a steep rise, -still wiping blindness off his helmet. But he could not wipe the bitter -vomit taste of defeat out of his mouth. - -His breathing was a file that raked in his throat. Heart and lungs were -ready to tear loose, and there was a cold knot in his guts. Fleeing up -the high, ragged slope, he sobbed out his rage at himself and his own -stupidity. - -At the top of the hill he threw himself to the ground and looked down -again over a low wall of basalt. It was hard to see if anything moved -down in that valley of night. Then the sun threw a broken gleam off -polished metal, the rifle barrel, and he saw Einar Lundgard walking -around, looking for him. - -The voice came dim in his earphones. "Why don't you give up, Bo? I tell -you, I don't want to kill you." - -"Yeh." Bo panted wearily. "I'm sure." - -"Well, you can never tell," said Lundgard mildly. "It would be rather -a nuisance to have to keep not only the fair Valeria, but you, tied -up all the way to base. Still, if you'll surrender by the time I've -counted ten--" - -"Look here," said Bo desperately, "I've got half the links. If you -don't give up I'll hammer 'em all flat and let you starve." - -"And Valeria?" The voice jeered at him. He knew his secret was read. "I -shouldn't have let you bluff me in the first place. It won't happen a -second time. All right: one, two, three--" - -Bo could get off this asteroid with no more than the power of his own -legs; a few jets from the emergency blow valve at the bottom of an -air tank would correct his flight as needed to bring him back to the -_Sirius_. He wanted to get up there, and inside warm walls, and take -Valeria in his hands and never let her go again. He wanted to live. - -"--six, seven, eight--" - -He looked at his gauges. A lot of oxy-helium mixture was gone from -the tanks, but they were big and there was still several atmospheres' -pressure in each. A couple of hours' life. If he didn't exert himself -too much. They screwed directly into valves in the back of his armor, -and-- - -"--ten. All right, Bo." Lundgard started moving up the slope, light and -graceful as a bird. It was wide and open, no place to hide and sneak up -behind him. - - * * * * * - -Figures reeled through Bo's mind, senselessly. Mass of the asteroid, -effective radius, escape velocity only a few feet per second, and he -was already on one of the highest points. Brains! he thought with a -shattering sorrow. A lot of good mine have done me! - -He prepared to back down the other side of the hill, run as well as -he could, as long as he could, until a bullet splashed his blood or -suffocation thickened it. But I want to fight! he thought through a -gulp of tears. I want to stand up and fight! - -Orbital velocity equals escape velocity divided by the square root of -two. - -For a moment he lay there, rigid, and his eyes stared at death walking -up the slope but did not see it. - -Then, in a crazy blur of motion, he brought his wrench around, closed -it on a nut at one side, and turned. - -The right hand air tank unscrewed easily. He held it in his hands, a -three foot cylinder, blind while calculation raced through his head. -What would the centrifugal and Coriolis forces be? It was the roughest -sort of estimate. He had neither time nor data, but-- - -Lundgard was taking it easy, stopping to examine each patch of shadow -thrown by some gaunt crag, each meteor scar where a man might hide. It -would take him several minutes to reach the hilltop. - -Bo clutched the loosened tank in his arms, throwing one leg around it -to make sure, and faced away from Lundgard. He hefted himself, as if -his body were a machine he must use. Then, carefully, he jumped off the -top of the hill. - -It was birdlike, dreamlike, thus to soar noiseless over iron -desolation. The sun fell behind him. A spearhead pinnacle clawed after -his feet. The Southern Cross flamed in his eyes. - -Downward--get rid of that downward component of velocity. He twisted -the tank, pointing it toward the surface, and cautiously opened the -blow valve with his free hand. Only a moment's exhaust, everything -gauged by eye. Did he have an orbit now? - -The ground dropped sharply off to infinity, and he saw stars under -the keel of the world. He was still going out, away. Maybe he had -miscalculated his jump, exceeded escape velocity after all, and was -headed for a long cold spin toward Jupiter. It would take all his -compressed air to correct such a mistake. - -Sweat prickled in his armpits. He locked his teeth and refused to open -the valve again. - -It was like endless falling, but he couldn't yet be sure if the fall -was toward the asteroid or the stars. The rock spun past him. Another -face came into view. Yes, by all idiot gods, its gravity was pulling -him around! - -He skimmed low over the bleakness of it, seeing darkness and starlit -death sliding beneath him. Another crag loomed suddenly in his path, -and he wondered in a harsh clutch of fear if he was going to crash. -Then it ghosted by, a foot from his flying body. He thought he could -almost sense the chill of it. - -He was a moon now, a satellite skimming low above the airless surface -of his own midget world. The fracture plain where Lundgard had shot -at him went by, and he braced himself. Up around the tiny planet, and -there was the hill he had left, stark against Sagittarius. He saw -Lundgard, standing on its heights and looking the way he had gone. -Carefully, he aimed the tank and gave himself another small blast to -correct his path. There was no noise to betray him, the asteroid was a -grave where all sound was long buried and frozen. - -He flattened, holding his body parallel to the tank in his arms. One -hand still gripped the wrench, the other reached to open the blow -valve wide. - -The surge almost tore him loose. He had a careening lunatic moment of -flight in which the roar of escaping gas boiled through his armor and -he clung like a troll to a runaway witch's broom. The sun was blinding -on one side of him. - -He struck Lundgard with an impact of velocity and inertia which sent -him spinning down the hill. Bo hit the ground, recoiled, and sprang -after his enemy. Lundgard was still rolling. As Bo approached, he came -to a halt, lifted his rifle dazedly, and had it knocked loose with a -single blow of the wrench. - -Lundgard crawled to his feet while Bo picked up the rifle and threw it -off the asteroid. "Why did you do that?" - -"I don't know," said Bo. "I should just shoot you down, but I want you -to surrender." - -Lundgard drew his wrench. "No," he said. - -"All right," said Bo. "It won't take long." - - * * * * * - -When he got up to the _Sirius_, using a tank Lundgard would never need, -Valeria had armed herself with a kitchen knife. "It wouldn't have done -much good," he said when he came through the airlock. She fell into his -arms, sobbing, and he tried to comfort her. "It's all over. All taken -care of. We can go home now." - -He himself was badly in need of consolation. The inquiry on Earth would -clear him, of course, but he would always have to live with the memory -of a man stretched dead under a wintery sky. He went aft and replaced -the links. When he came back, Valeria had recovered herself, but as -she watched his methodical preparations and listened to what he had to -tell, there was that in her eyes which he hardly dared believe. - -Not him. 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