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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..22b6ae3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63658 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63658) diff --git a/old/63658-0.txt b/old/63658-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9e4f022..0000000 --- a/old/63658-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,845 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Crisis On Titan, by James R. Adams - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: Crisis On Titan - -Author: James R. Adams - -Release Date: November 06, 2020 [EBook #63658] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRISIS ON TITAN *** - - - - - CRISIS ON TITAN - - By JAMES R. ADAMS - - What the devil! Was Captain Staley nuts? Here they - were ... no food, no water, about to be blasted out - of existence by strange inhabitants of a weird - planet--and Staley was making like a baseball player! - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Spring 1946. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -"Hut! Twuh, hree, foar. Hut! Twuh, hree, foar. Hut! Twuh--" Sergeant -Hallihan boomed forth the monotonous syllables with unfaltering -precision, glaring from the corner of his eye now and then in hopes -of catching some unfortunate fellow out of step or whispering to a -companion with questionable reference to the sergeant. - -The dust-caked ranks marched along quietly, carefully refraining from -expressing their opinion of this disgusting detail, but Hallihan -knew what they were thinking. And he could well understand their -displeasure. These were hard-bitten, two-fisted, hell for leather -I.P. men, and here they were with shovels and picks slung over -their shoulders, plodding out to scratch in the dirt like common, -dime-a-dozen ditch-diggers. - -Hallihan felt as strongly about it as they, but orders were orders, and -he prided himself on his ability to carry out a command, regardless of -whether or not it conformed with his personal sentiments. This job had -to be done, and the men all knew it could not be entrusted to a mob -of imported flunkies. The _Squeakers_ would make short work of such a -motley crew. - -The sergeant emitted a soft sigh between a snappy twuh and hree as his -wandering gaze came to rest on the slow-moving grav-car, in which rode -the brusque Captain Staley. The car skimmed along a foot or so above -the ground, riding smoothly on its gravity-repellent ray. Hallihan -suddenly became acutely aware of his aching feet. Would the captain -never call a halt? Hell, they couldn't march straight through to the -mine without rest. More than one soldier was dragging his feet, and the -sergeant could hardly find the heart to snarl out his customary: "Get -the lead out back there, soldier. Pep it up!" - -Bringing up the rearguard of the orderly lines was as strange a group -of "soldiers" as could be found on any moon of the system. These were -the "Barber's Delights," an odd life-form of Titan that had formed a -sort of aloof friendship with the Patrol from the moment it landed. The -men jokingly called them Barber's Delights because of the thick, shaggy -coat of hair that covered their log-like bodies. The B.D.'s either -didn't understand, or just didn't care, for they made no objection to -their nickname. - -There were twenty of the creatures in this group, and more joined -them along the way. They imitated the brisk step of the soldiers with -amazing exactness, though they possessed no semblance whatsoever of -feet. They moved on dense mats of stubby, resilient bristles that grew -from the flat bottoms of their column-bodies, sweeping forward like -a horde of self-propelling brooms. Not wishing to be outdone by the -visitors, they had their own sergeant, who moved along importantly at -the side of his command, glaring threateningly from the corner of his -single, huge eye. As Sergeant Hallihan called out his impeccable, "Hut! -Twuh, hree, foar," Sergeant B.D. responded with, "Ungh! Ungh, ungh, -ungh," the only sound he was capable of uttering. Hallihan scowled over -his shoulder and snorted disgruntledly, fervently wishing he could -get his heckler alone for a moment. His hard cot would have a new fur -mattress that night. - -Hallihan estimated they were half-way to the mine now. That huge -deposit of _chroidex_ salts was important to the system. Without the -precious mineral spaceflight would be impossible, since there would be -nothing to protect travelers from deadly solar rays. The small amounts -that had been found on Earth and the other major planets would soon -give out, and Titan was the only other known source of _chroidex_. -This deposit would last for centuries, and by the time it, too, was -exhausted, perhaps engineers would have figured a way around the -difficulty. - -Captain Staley's car came to a stop and the tall man stepped out. He -stood a moment, surveying the weary marchers with sharp, experienced -eyes. He knew just how much he could get out of a man, knew when the -limits of the human machine had been reached. - -"You may rest your troops, Sergeant Hallihan," he said shortly. - - * * * * * - -Hallihan sighed inwardly, hoping for at least a twenty-minute surcease. -He went through the formality of placing his men at ease, then strode -anxiously to the captain's side. - -"Do you suppose there will be trouble with the Squeakers, Sir?" he -asked apprehensively. "They don't take to us, you know. They might -ambush us at the mine." - -The Captain thought a moment, then his thin lips drew up in a smile. - -"I don't think they will. Their crude weapons wouldn't stand a chance -against us, in force. Personally, I wish they would attack. Then we -could do away with them once and for all. As it is, we can't risk -bringing laborers here to develop the mine. After the Squeakers picked -off a few of them, the miners would turn tail and run for home. So -we're temporarily stuck with both jobs, Sergeant; working the mine, and -eliminating the Squeakers. We'll catch the whole damn bunch of them in -the open some day. When we do...." - -The two men momentarily forgot their conversation and turned to watch -the antics of the perplexed B.D.s. The shaggy creatures were milling -about uncertainly. - -"Ungh ungh!" the log-shaped sergeant barked out, pointing a slim -tentacle at the reclining I.P. men. "Ungh ungh!" - -But the B.D.s were physically incapable of duplicating the soldiers' -postures. Underneath all that hair, their bodies were not much more -than wooden posts, stiff, erect, and not given to bending at the waist. -The bristling sergeant might as well have saved his breath. - -"If only the Squeakers were as friendly as these fellows," Captain -Staley murmured. "But sadly, they don't have the least thing in common. -Their hate for us is equaled, if not exceeded, by their fear of the -B.D.s. Seems the B.D.s have some sort of racial disease that is fatal -to the Squeakers if they come in contact with it. That's why you'll -never see any members of these two races palling around together. Too -bad the B.D.s aren't intelligent enough to cooperate with us. With -their aid, we could wipe out the Squeakers in record time." - -A strange occurrence was taking place in the ranks of the Barber's -Delights. The exhausted sergeant had ceased his shouting, and the -creatures stood about in stiff poses of inactivity. Suddenly a cloud -of blue dust whooshed from the flat top of a barrel-like B.D. and the -thing disappeared in a flurry of fur and smoke. - -"Noon," Sergeant Hallihan said cryptically. - -Others of the B.D.s were going through the same process. It was as if -the ground had opened and swallowed them up. Hallihan's heckler blew -out a great cloud of smoke and dwindled rapidly away to nothing. In one -minute, the unconcerned group of half-animals was lessened by a third. -The I.P. men sat with open mouths, craning their necks over companions' -shoulders to better witness the event. Although they had seen it many -times in the past weeks, the weird exhibition never failed to impress -them. - -"Those things never miss," one soldier said in awe. "Come noon or -midnight, and boom!--away they go, right on the dot. S'crazy." - -Captain Staley smiled at the man and walked quickly to the spot where -the B.D.s had disappeared, Sergeant Hallihan following. He bent to the -ground and scooped up a handful of elliptical, waxy-surfaced seeds. - -"Reproduction, man, reproduction," he said. "Their race, just as -any other, would come to a quick end if they didn't propagate." He -pointed to five B.D.s whose fur was slowly turning yellow and falling -from their bodies in brittle patches. "In exactly half an hour, those -creatures will be dead, and from these seeds will come new B.D.s to -fill the gaps. By actual count, we know there are approximately five -hundred of these beings on Titan. At noon and midnight, half of them -reproduce, and the half that has already reproduced dies. Thus there -are at all times exactly five hundred of the creatures, no more and no -less. The disease germs that all of them carry, though fatal to the -Squeakers, don't seem to have any ill effects on them. If they are -injured, their bodies heal, no matter how deep the wound. So a B.D. -lives his full half-day, Titan-reckoning, regardless of accidents and -diseases. I would like to remain here and watch these seeds develop -into full-grown B.D.s, but we must be getting on to the mine. We shall -remain there a week, Sergeant, returning to the garrison at the end of -that time for fresh supplies and equipment. Four or five grav-trucks -and cranes would make the work much easier, but all of my requisitions -to the government for these have been rejected on the grounds the -Squeakers might stage an uprising and gain possession of valuable -equipment. As I said, we'll have to struggle along as best we can -until we can catch the Squeakers in a false move and blast them out of -existence. Carry on, Sergeant." - -Hallihan snapped to attention as the captain whirled on his heel and -returned to his grav-car. Only fifteen minutes rest. Damn! - -Under the direction of Hallihan's acid tongue, the men heaved -reluctantly to their feet and fell into line, whispering curses as the -sergeant roared out the hated, "F'r'ard, harch! Hut! Twuh, hree, foar." - -"Ungh! Ungh, ungh ungh. Ungh! Ungh, ungh--" The B.D.s quickly appointed -a new sergeant and took up the march with an eagerness that brought -grunts of disgust from the begrimed men. - -Hallihan glanced back over his shoulder to fix an icy stare on this new -nemesis, and his eyes widened with amazement as he caught sight of a -disheveled man stumbling along behind them, his arms waving frantically -and his lips moving in a soundless yell. The sergeant called a quick -halt and waited for the man to overtake them. - -It was a soldier from the garrison. Blood trickled from his lips and -one arm hung in a queer position at his side. The skin was hideously -burnt and blackened where a heat-ray had caught him full in the face. -Hallihan knew the man was dying as he collapsed in his arms, insanely -babbling: "Managed to 'scape ... got all rest, but managed to -'scape ... must tell you, Serg'nt ... must tell you ... all rest -dead...." - - * * * * * - -Staley's car came to a jarring halt beside them and the alarmed captain -jumped out, his emotionless features softening with pity as he saw the -man's condition. The soldier was talking again, and Staley bent close -to the mutilated mouth to catch all of the feeble words. - -"All dead ... all dead ... Squeakers s'prised us 'n' took garrison ... -thousand Squeakers ... thousand Squeakers in garrison ... no chance ... -all dead...." - -Captain Staley straightened, and his eyes were steely as he turned to -Hallihan. He waited while Hallihan let the soldier gently to the ground -and assigned a man to watch over him. - -"It was a gross mistake to leave such a small complement of men at the -garrison," Captain Staley said bitterly. "I seriously doubt that we -can recapture it. If those creatures have enough intelligence to load -and fire the four atomic cannons, our sidearms will be of little use. -They'll slaughter us to the last man. But we've got to try, Sergeant. -Understand? We've _got_ to try." - -"Yes, Sir." Hallihan saluted and turned, grim-lipped, to the waiting -men. "We're returning to the garrison, men," he said simply. "'Bout -face!" - -The B.D.s scattered as the I.P. men plowed through them, but reformed -behind the swift-moving columns and scurried anxiously after them. -Another group of the curious creatures joined their fellows, swelling -the ranks to fifty. They made a strange sight as they hustled along -over the rocky ground, the dire-eyed sergeant belching out his eternal, -"Ung! Ung, ungh, ugh. Ungh! Ungh, ungh--" - -"If only those crazy bucket-heads would help us fight the Squeakers," -Hallihan thought unhappily. "But they can't. They're just dumb mimics. -They wouldn't know one end of a heat-ray from the other." Then he -forgot about the B.D.s and started thinking about his shrieking feet. - -They reached the garrison late in the afternoon, and Hallihan began -displacing his men about the front of the structure, taking care they -didn't expose themselves to the Squeakers' fire. In spite of their -caution, five men were torn to shreds as an atomic cannon let go, -catching them in the open. Hallihan swore harshly and ducked behind a -huge boulder. Those dirty sons meant business. - -The B.D.s followed suit, gliding behind upjuttings of rock and yelling -one-syllable curses at the embattled garrison. They watched the -proceedings with casually-interested eyes, emitting sympathetic "Unghs" -whenever a patrolman fell. One of the creatures got his top blown off -when he let it stick out too far from behind a rock, but he immediately -grew a new one. - -The I.P. men weren't faring so well. Most of the Squeakers' shots -went wild, but the very intensity of their fire took its toll of the -outnumbered patrolmen. Hallihan rushed about from rock to rock, patting -his soldiers on the back and shouting words of encouragement in their -ears. The B.D. sergeant hurried along behind him, whacking his tentacle -across the furry bodies of his compatriots and keeping up a steady flow -of loud, well-pleased "Unghs." - -Captain Staley was doing his share of the fighting. He crouched behind -a round boulder, snapping quick shots at the garrison and drawing back -before the Squeakers could locate him. Sergeant Hallihan flopped down -beside him and lay staring questioningly at his superior. - -"We can't win," Staley said, matter-of-factly. "The garrison was built -to withstand just such a siege as this. We have to hit those loopholes -in the wall dead-center to bring down a Squeaker. We couldn't have -nailed more than half a dozen or so; half a dozen, out of a thousand. -Attack from the rear is impossible, because of the steep canyon walls -protecting the garrison on three sides. If we could rout them into the -open, we could blast them down like cattle. There would be no escape, -except through our ranks, and our sharpshooters would take care of any -who broke through. But that's just wishful thinking, Sergeant. The -Squeakers aren't stupid enough to try charging us. They'll stay holed -up in the garrison, picking us off one by one. There's no place to run -to. All of our food and water is in the hands of those devils, so we -have our choice of fighting it out to the last man or retreating to the -mine and wait for thirst and starvation to end our worries. What will -it be, Sergeant?" - -"We'll fight, Sir," Hallihan said grimly. "Yahoo! Pour it to 'em, men! -Give 'em a taste of I.P. hell!" - -Above the noise of battle could be heard the rat-like screeching of the -Squeakers. The B.D.s answered with their version of the Bronx cheer, -and between them and the ground-shaking c-r-rump-c-r-rump of the atomic -cannons, the uproar was enough to cause a nervous breakdown in the -staunchest habitue of Times Square. - - * * * * * - -Night fell across the scene, and the battle raged on. The I.P. -patrolmen now had a slight advantage, for the large bulk of the -garrison was easily discernible in the dim light and they had the -locations of the loopholes well-fixed in their minds. After each shot, -they shifted positions, crawling over the ground so the Squeakers could -not observe their movements. More than one unlucky fellow was found -out, though, when a tall B.D. followed him, hurling challenges at -the Squeakers in a loud, attention-drawing voice. This hindrance was -temporarily done away with when midnight came and fully half of the -B.D.s spouted blue smoke from their shaggy tops and dwindled away to -silent, waxy seeds. More of them lost their enthusiasm for the battle -as their brown fur slowly took on a yellowish hue, and they retired to -various dark crannies to sulk away their last few living moments. - -"I have an idea, Sir," Hallihan reported excitedly to Captain Staley. -"That armored grav-car of yours could easily gain the wall of the -garrison without getting knocked out of commission, couldn't it? Well, -here's the plan. We use the shovel handles to whip together a ladder -long enough to scale the wall. Then me and a couple of the men speed -through to the garrison in the grav-car and prop the ladder against -the wall before the Squeakers can nail us. Maybe one or two of us will -live long enough to get over the wall and open the gates. Then before -the Squeakers catch wise, the rest of you charge through the gates and -finish 'em off. What do you think, Sir?" - -"I must commend you for your valor, Sergeant," Staley said soberly. -"But I don't believe your plan would work. Even assuming that one of -you would get through to the gates--and you must admit there would be -small chance of that--the Squeakers would still be in possession of -the cannons, and our men would be easy targets at such close range. We -would only bring about our own defeat that much sooner. However, you -_have_ given me an idea, Sergeant. As you say, the grav-car _could_ -gain the garrison wall, and a man could stand outside with reasonable -safety if he was careful not to move in line with a loophole. What is -the time, Sergeant?" - -"Why, er, five minutes past twelve, Sir--Titan-time." - -"Good," Staley said determinedly. "I must put my plan into immediate -operation. In ten minutes, Sergeant, my car will move toward the -garrison. Instruct your men to direct a heavy fire at the loopholes -until I have reached the wall. The more confusion, the better; anything -that will draw the Squeakers' attention away from me. After that, -well--Inform your men of the plan, Sergeant!" - -Hallihan gulped and saluted. "Yes, Sir! That I'll do, Sir!" Cripes! Had -the old man lost his marbles? One man against a thousand Squeakers! -That was crazier than Hallihan's own idea! Nevertheless, the sergeant -raced away to lay down the law to the sleepy-eyed soldiers. - -Ten minutes later, Captain Staley's grav-car leaped from behind a -boulder and bore down swiftly on the dark garrison. Instantly the -patrolmen began howling and blasting at the garrison, drawing a -murderous return fire from the mildly-surprised Squeakers. The few -B.D.s who were still capable of its added their voices to the din, -and Staley's car lurched to a halt at the garrison wall, completely -undamaged. The Captain jumped out and fumbled inside the car a moment. - -What the hell was he doing, Hallihan wondered. He watched the dark -form move cautiously along the rampart and stop at a point where a -good-sized upheaval in the ground raised him to within ten feet of the -wall's top. The captain went through some strange motions. His hand dug -in his pocket and then his arms snapped back like a baseball pitcher's. -His hand flicked forward and came down to dig once more in his pocket. -Again he went through the movements of throwing something. Hallihan -scratched his head puzzledly, straining his eyes to see what Staley did -next. That was all. Staley returned to his car and climbed inside, but -the speedy little vehicle gave no indication of withdrawing from its -position against the garrison wall. - -[Illustration: _Captain Staley's arms snapped back like a baseball -pitcher's._] - -Things quieted down a bit then, and Hallihan nearly went mad waiting -for something to happen. Now and then an atomic cannon blasted out at -the patrolmen, but the intensity of the Squeakers' fire had diminished -considerably from that of earlier in the battle. They had plenty of -time. They would wait until morning, when the sun exposed the hiding -places of the I.P. men, then it would be curtains for these hated -invaders from another world. Hallihan wished he could sleep, but he -knew if he did he might never wake up again. He waited.... - -A minute later, the sergeant's hair almost stood on end as a prolonged, -hideous screech of terror beat against his ears, growing, swelling in -intensity, and owning a note of stark, unreasoning fear. It came from -the garrison; came from the throats of a thousand panicked Squeakers. -Hallihan's jaw gaped ludicrously as the gates burst open and hundreds -of screaming, scrabbling, sleek-boiled Squeakers spilled into the -clearing, fleeing from the garrison as fast as their skinny legs -could carry them. Hallihan recovered quickly from his surprise and -drew a bead on the leading Squeaker. The creature crumpled under the -heat-beam, shrieking in agony as his fellows trampled over him, making -pulp of his thrashing, charred body. - -"Give 'em hell, boys!" Hallihan shouted exultantly. "Pour it to the -rats!" - -The I.P. patrolmen needed no coaxing. The terrified Squeakers were -already falling by the dozens under their withering fire. The -rodent-like animals hesitated, not knowing where to turn. Some of -them ran to the canyon walls and tried to scrabble up to safety, but -the sharp-eyed soldiers nailed them before they could go a yard. An -atomic cannon started banging away from the garrison, and Hallihan knew -Captain Staley had plunged his grav-car through the open gates and -taken over one of the deadly guns. After that, it was only a question -of mopping up.... - - * * * * * - -When morning came, the canyon floor looked like an inverted graveyard. -Blackened, torn bodies, all that remained of the Squeakers, littered -the clearing. Weary patrolmen emerged from behind the protecting -boulders, moving warily, lest some of the creatures were playing -possum. But the repulsive animals were quite dead. - -"Not more than a dozen got away," Hallihan said, satisfaction in his -voice. "They were scared to come through our lines with those B.D.s -hangin' around. The ones that did get through will probably die of that -strange disease the shaggies carry in their fur. Let's find out about -Captain Staley, men." - -Staley was waiting for them when they entered the garrison. And so were -fifty Barber's Delights! Staley smiled when he saw the question on -Hallihan's beefy face. Hallihan recovered enough to salute. - -"Everything went well, I trust, Sergeant?" Staley asked. - -"Yeah. I mean, yes, Sir. We really cleaned up on those devils. We won't -have to worry about them any longer. They come out of here like bats -outta hell. How'd they come to blow their tops, Captain?" - -"We have the B.D.s to thank for that," Staley said, fondly patting one -of the log-bodied creatures on the back. - -"I don't see why, Sir," Hallihan said skeptically. "We all know the -things ain't got brains enough to fight. Anyway, how in all creation -did they get in here? They--" The sergeant stopped abruptly. He clapped -a hand to his forehead in feigned exasperation and snorted disgustedly. -"Cripes, I'm stupid! I mean, I think I understand now, Sir. You had me -wondering, though. I thought you'd cracked up under the strain when -you started goin' through them crazy shenanigans in front of the wall. -I guess I ought to apologize, Sir." - -"No need, Sergeant. I suppose it did seem as if I had gone mad. But -I knew our only chance to beat the Squeakers was to get them into -the open, and the only way to do that was to inspire great fear in -them. The only thing the Squeakers feared was the Barber's Delights, -because of the fatal disease they bear in their fur. But obviously, I -couldn't induce these dumb creatures to storm the garrison and force -the Squeakers into the open. Then I remembered the seeds. The B.D.s' -seeds certainly couldn't object if I carried them to the garrison wall -and tossed them inside. That is exactly what I did. All there was to -do then was wait until the seeds blossomed into full-grown B.D.s and -stampeded the Squeakers right into our hands. The Squeakers' poor -marksmanship was no match for ours. I believe our work is done here, -Sergeant. Experienced miners can take over the job now." - -"Yes, Sir!" Hallihan grinned broadly. "The men will be glad to hear -that, Sir. But first, we've got a bit of a mess to clean up. Hold on to -them shovels, men, you ain't through diggin' yet. Lively, now!" - -"Ungh ungh!" a new B.D. sergeant took up the cry, glaring balefully at -his fellows. The obedient creatures scooted quickly after the soldiers. -Just dumb mimics, but they had saved spaceflight from an early end. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRISIS ON TITAN *** - -***** This file should be named 63658-0.txt or 63658-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/5/63658/ - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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Adams. - </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; -} - -.caption p -{ - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; - margin: 0.25em 0; -} - -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; -} - - - </style> - </head> -<body> -<pre style='margin-bottom:6em;'>The Project Gutenberg EBook of Crisis On Titan, by James R. Adams - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: Crisis On Titan - -Author: James R. Adams - -Release Date: November 06, 2020 [EBook #63658] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRISIS ON TITAN *** -</pre> -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>CRISIS ON TITAN</h1> - -<h2>By JAMES R. ADAMS</h2> - -<p>What the devil! Was Captain Staley nuts? Here they<br /> -were ... no food, no water, about to be blasted out<br /> -of existence by strange inhabitants of a weird<br /> -planet—and Staley was making like a baseball player!</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Spring 1946.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Hut! Twuh, hree, foar. Hut! Twuh, hree, foar. Hut! Twuh—" Sergeant -Hallihan boomed forth the monotonous syllables with unfaltering -precision, glaring from the corner of his eye now and then in hopes -of catching some unfortunate fellow out of step or whispering to a -companion with questionable reference to the sergeant.</p> - -<p>The dust-caked ranks marched along quietly, carefully refraining from -expressing their opinion of this disgusting detail, but Hallihan -knew what they were thinking. And he could well understand their -displeasure. These were hard-bitten, two-fisted, hell for leather -I.P. men, and here they were with shovels and picks slung over -their shoulders, plodding out to scratch in the dirt like common, -dime-a-dozen ditch-diggers.</p> - -<p>Hallihan felt as strongly about it as they, but orders were orders, and -he prided himself on his ability to carry out a command, regardless of -whether or not it conformed with his personal sentiments. This job had -to be done, and the men all knew it could not be entrusted to a mob -of imported flunkies. The <i>Squeakers</i> would make short work of such a -motley crew.</p> - -<p>The sergeant emitted a soft sigh between a snappy twuh and hree as his -wandering gaze came to rest on the slow-moving grav-car, in which rode -the brusque Captain Staley. The car skimmed along a foot or so above -the ground, riding smoothly on its gravity-repellent ray. Hallihan -suddenly became acutely aware of his aching feet. Would the captain -never call a halt? Hell, they couldn't march straight through to the -mine without rest. More than one soldier was dragging his feet, and the -sergeant could hardly find the heart to snarl out his customary: "Get -the lead out back there, soldier. Pep it up!"</p> - -<p>Bringing up the rearguard of the orderly lines was as strange a group -of "soldiers" as could be found on any moon of the system. These were -the "Barber's Delights," an odd life-form of Titan that had formed a -sort of aloof friendship with the Patrol from the moment it landed. The -men jokingly called them Barber's Delights because of the thick, shaggy -coat of hair that covered their log-like bodies. The B.D.'s either -didn't understand, or just didn't care, for they made no objection to -their nickname.</p> - -<p>There were twenty of the creatures in this group, and more joined -them along the way. They imitated the brisk step of the soldiers with -amazing exactness, though they possessed no semblance whatsoever of -feet. They moved on dense mats of stubby, resilient bristles that grew -from the flat bottoms of their column-bodies, sweeping forward like -a horde of self-propelling brooms. Not wishing to be outdone by the -visitors, they had their own sergeant, who moved along importantly at -the side of his command, glaring threateningly from the corner of his -single, huge eye. As Sergeant Hallihan called out his impeccable, "Hut! -Twuh, hree, foar," Sergeant B.D. responded with, "Ungh! Ungh, ungh, -ungh," the only sound he was capable of uttering. Hallihan scowled over -his shoulder and snorted disgruntledly, fervently wishing he could -get his heckler alone for a moment. His hard cot would have a new fur -mattress that night.</p> - -<p>Hallihan estimated they were half-way to the mine now. That huge -deposit of <i>chroidex</i> salts was important to the system. Without the -precious mineral spaceflight would be impossible, since there would be -nothing to protect travelers from deadly solar rays. The small amounts -that had been found on Earth and the other major planets would soon -give out, and Titan was the only other known source of <i>chroidex</i>. -This deposit would last for centuries, and by the time it, too, was -exhausted, perhaps engineers would have figured a way around the -difficulty.</p> - -<p>Captain Staley's car came to a stop and the tall man stepped out. He -stood a moment, surveying the weary marchers with sharp, experienced -eyes. He knew just how much he could get out of a man, knew when the -limits of the human machine had been reached.</p> - -<p>"You may rest your troops, Sergeant Hallihan," he said shortly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Hallihan sighed inwardly, hoping for at least a twenty-minute surcease. -He went through the formality of placing his men at ease, then strode -anxiously to the captain's side.</p> - -<p>"Do you suppose there will be trouble with the Squeakers, Sir?" he -asked apprehensively. "They don't take to us, you know. They might -ambush us at the mine."</p> - -<p>The Captain thought a moment, then his thin lips drew up in a smile.</p> - -<p>"I don't think they will. Their crude weapons wouldn't stand a chance -against us, in force. Personally, I wish they would attack. Then we -could do away with them once and for all. As it is, we can't risk -bringing laborers here to develop the mine. After the Squeakers picked -off a few of them, the miners would turn tail and run for home. So -we're temporarily stuck with both jobs, Sergeant; working the mine, and -eliminating the Squeakers. We'll catch the whole damn bunch of them in -the open some day. When we do...."</p> - -<p>The two men momentarily forgot their conversation and turned to watch -the antics of the perplexed B.D.s. The shaggy creatures were milling -about uncertainly.</p> - -<p>"Ungh ungh!" the log-shaped sergeant barked out, pointing a slim -tentacle at the reclining I.P. men. "Ungh ungh!"</p> - -<p>But the B.D.s were physically incapable of duplicating the soldiers' -postures. Underneath all that hair, their bodies were not much more -than wooden posts, stiff, erect, and not given to bending at the waist. -The bristling sergeant might as well have saved his breath.</p> - -<p>"If only the Squeakers were as friendly as these fellows," Captain -Staley murmured. "But sadly, they don't have the least thing in common. -Their hate for us is equaled, if not exceeded, by their fear of the -B.D.s. Seems the B.D.s have some sort of racial disease that is fatal -to the Squeakers if they come in contact with it. That's why you'll -never see any members of these two races palling around together. Too -bad the B.D.s aren't intelligent enough to cooperate with us. With -their aid, we could wipe out the Squeakers in record time."</p> - -<p>A strange occurrence was taking place in the ranks of the Barber's -Delights. The exhausted sergeant had ceased his shouting, and the -creatures stood about in stiff poses of inactivity. Suddenly a cloud -of blue dust whooshed from the flat top of a barrel-like B.D. and the -thing disappeared in a flurry of fur and smoke.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Noon," Sergeant Hallihan said cryptically.</p> - -<p>Others of the B.D.s were going through the same process. It was as if -the ground had opened and swallowed them up. Hallihan's heckler blew -out a great cloud of smoke and dwindled rapidly away to nothing. In one -minute, the unconcerned group of half-animals was lessened by a third. -The I.P. men sat with open mouths, craning their necks over companions' -shoulders to better witness the event. Although they had seen it many -times in the past weeks, the weird exhibition never failed to impress -them.</p> - -<p>"Those things never miss," one soldier said in awe. "Come noon or -midnight, and boom!—away they go, right on the dot. S'crazy."</p> - -<p>Captain Staley smiled at the man and walked quickly to the spot where -the B.D.s had disappeared, Sergeant Hallihan following. He bent to the -ground and scooped up a handful of elliptical, waxy-surfaced seeds.</p> - -<p>"Reproduction, man, reproduction," he said. "Their race, just as -any other, would come to a quick end if they didn't propagate." He -pointed to five B.D.s whose fur was slowly turning yellow and falling -from their bodies in brittle patches. "In exactly half an hour, those -creatures will be dead, and from these seeds will come new B.D.s to -fill the gaps. By actual count, we know there are approximately five -hundred of these beings on Titan. At noon and midnight, half of them -reproduce, and the half that has already reproduced dies. Thus there -are at all times exactly five hundred of the creatures, no more and no -less. The disease germs that all of them carry, though fatal to the -Squeakers, don't seem to have any ill effects on them. If they are -injured, their bodies heal, no matter how deep the wound. So a B.D. -lives his full half-day, Titan-reckoning, regardless of accidents and -diseases. I would like to remain here and watch these seeds develop -into full-grown B.D.s, but we must be getting on to the mine. We shall -remain there a week, Sergeant, returning to the garrison at the end of -that time for fresh supplies and equipment. Four or five grav-trucks -and cranes would make the work much easier, but all of my requisitions -to the government for these have been rejected on the grounds the -Squeakers might stage an uprising and gain possession of valuable -equipment. As I said, we'll have to struggle along as best we can -until we can catch the Squeakers in a false move and blast them out of -existence. Carry on, Sergeant."</p> - -<p>Hallihan snapped to attention as the captain whirled on his heel and -returned to his grav-car. Only fifteen minutes rest. Damn!</p> - -<p>Under the direction of Hallihan's acid tongue, the men heaved -reluctantly to their feet and fell into line, whispering curses as the -sergeant roared out the hated, "F'r'ard, harch! Hut! Twuh, hree, foar."</p> - -<p>"Ungh! Ungh, ungh ungh. Ungh! Ungh, ungh—" The B.D.s quickly appointed -a new sergeant and took up the march with an eagerness that brought -grunts of disgust from the begrimed men.</p> - -<p>Hallihan glanced back over his shoulder to fix an icy stare on this new -nemesis, and his eyes widened with amazement as he caught sight of a -disheveled man stumbling along behind them, his arms waving frantically -and his lips moving in a soundless yell. The sergeant called a quick -halt and waited for the man to overtake them.</p> - -<p>It was a soldier from the garrison. Blood trickled from his lips and -one arm hung in a queer position at his side. The skin was hideously -burnt and blackened where a heat-ray had caught him full in the face. -Hallihan knew the man was dying as he collapsed in his arms, insanely -babbling: "Managed to 'scape ... got all rest, but managed to -'scape ... must tell you, Serg'nt ... must tell you ... all rest -dead...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Staley's car came to a jarring halt beside them and the alarmed captain -jumped out, his emotionless features softening with pity as he saw the -man's condition. The soldier was talking again, and Staley bent close -to the mutilated mouth to catch all of the feeble words.</p> - -<p>"All dead ... all dead ... Squeakers s'prised us 'n' took garrison ... -thousand Squeakers ... thousand Squeakers in garrison ... no chance ... -all dead...."</p> - -<p>Captain Staley straightened, and his eyes were steely as he turned to -Hallihan. He waited while Hallihan let the soldier gently to the ground -and assigned a man to watch over him.</p> - -<p>"It was a gross mistake to leave such a small complement of men at the -garrison," Captain Staley said bitterly. "I seriously doubt that we -can recapture it. If those creatures have enough intelligence to load -and fire the four atomic cannons, our sidearms will be of little use. -They'll slaughter us to the last man. But we've got to try, Sergeant. -Understand? We've <i>got</i> to try."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir." Hallihan saluted and turned, grim-lipped, to the waiting -men. "We're returning to the garrison, men," he said simply. "'Bout -face!"</p> - -<p>The B.D.s scattered as the I.P. men plowed through them, but reformed -behind the swift-moving columns and scurried anxiously after them. -Another group of the curious creatures joined their fellows, swelling -the ranks to fifty. They made a strange sight as they hustled along -over the rocky ground, the dire-eyed sergeant belching out his eternal, -"Ung! Ung, ungh, ugh. Ungh! Ungh, ungh—"</p> - -<p>"If only those crazy bucket-heads would help us fight the Squeakers," -Hallihan thought unhappily. "But they can't. They're just dumb mimics. -They wouldn't know one end of a heat-ray from the other." Then he -forgot about the B.D.s and started thinking about his shrieking feet.</p> - -<p>They reached the garrison late in the afternoon, and Hallihan began -displacing his men about the front of the structure, taking care they -didn't expose themselves to the Squeakers' fire. In spite of their -caution, five men were torn to shreds as an atomic cannon let go, -catching them in the open. Hallihan swore harshly and ducked behind a -huge boulder. Those dirty sons meant business.</p> - -<p>The B.D.s followed suit, gliding behind upjuttings of rock and yelling -one-syllable curses at the embattled garrison. They watched the -proceedings with casually-interested eyes, emitting sympathetic "Unghs" -whenever a patrolman fell. One of the creatures got his top blown off -when he let it stick out too far from behind a rock, but he immediately -grew a new one.</p> - -<p>The I.P. men weren't faring so well. Most of the Squeakers' shots -went wild, but the very intensity of their fire took its toll of the -outnumbered patrolmen. Hallihan rushed about from rock to rock, patting -his soldiers on the back and shouting words of encouragement in their -ears. The B.D. sergeant hurried along behind him, whacking his tentacle -across the furry bodies of his compatriots and keeping up a steady flow -of loud, well-pleased "Unghs."</p> - -<p>Captain Staley was doing his share of the fighting. He crouched behind -a round boulder, snapping quick shots at the garrison and drawing back -before the Squeakers could locate him. Sergeant Hallihan flopped down -beside him and lay staring questioningly at his superior.</p> - -<p>"We can't win," Staley said, matter-of-factly. "The garrison was built -to withstand just such a siege as this. We have to hit those loopholes -in the wall dead-center to bring down a Squeaker. We couldn't have -nailed more than half a dozen or so; half a dozen, out of a thousand. -Attack from the rear is impossible, because of the steep canyon walls -protecting the garrison on three sides. If we could rout them into the -open, we could blast them down like cattle. There would be no escape, -except through our ranks, and our sharpshooters would take care of any -who broke through. But that's just wishful thinking, Sergeant. The -Squeakers aren't stupid enough to try charging us. They'll stay holed -up in the garrison, picking us off one by one. There's no place to run -to. All of our food and water is in the hands of those devils, so we -have our choice of fighting it out to the last man or retreating to the -mine and wait for thirst and starvation to end our worries. What will -it be, Sergeant?"</p> - -<p>"We'll fight, Sir," Hallihan said grimly. "Yahoo! Pour it to 'em, men! -Give 'em a taste of I.P. hell!"</p> - -<p>Above the noise of battle could be heard the rat-like screeching of the -Squeakers. The B.D.s answered with their version of the Bronx cheer, -and between them and the ground-shaking c-r-rump-c-r-rump of the atomic -cannons, the uproar was enough to cause a nervous breakdown in the -staunchest habitue of Times Square.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Night fell across the scene, and the battle raged on. The I.P. -patrolmen now had a slight advantage, for the large bulk of the -garrison was easily discernible in the dim light and they had the -locations of the loopholes well-fixed in their minds. After each shot, -they shifted positions, crawling over the ground so the Squeakers could -not observe their movements. More than one unlucky fellow was found -out, though, when a tall B.D. followed him, hurling challenges at -the Squeakers in a loud, attention-drawing voice. This hindrance was -temporarily done away with when midnight came and fully half of the -B.D.s spouted blue smoke from their shaggy tops and dwindled away to -silent, waxy seeds. More of them lost their enthusiasm for the battle -as their brown fur slowly took on a yellowish hue, and they retired to -various dark crannies to sulk away their last few living moments.</p> - -<p>"I have an idea, Sir," Hallihan reported excitedly to Captain Staley. -"That armored grav-car of yours could easily gain the wall of the -garrison without getting knocked out of commission, couldn't it? Well, -here's the plan. We use the shovel handles to whip together a ladder -long enough to scale the wall. Then me and a couple of the men speed -through to the garrison in the grav-car and prop the ladder against -the wall before the Squeakers can nail us. Maybe one or two of us will -live long enough to get over the wall and open the gates. Then before -the Squeakers catch wise, the rest of you charge through the gates and -finish 'em off. What do you think, Sir?"</p> - -<p>"I must commend you for your valor, Sergeant," Staley said soberly. -"But I don't believe your plan would work. Even assuming that one of -you would get through to the gates—and you must admit there would be -small chance of that—the Squeakers would still be in possession of -the cannons, and our men would be easy targets at such close range. We -would only bring about our own defeat that much sooner. However, you -<i>have</i> given me an idea, Sergeant. As you say, the grav-car <i>could</i> -gain the garrison wall, and a man could stand outside with reasonable -safety if he was careful not to move in line with a loophole. What is -the time, Sergeant?"</p> - -<p>"Why, er, five minutes past twelve, Sir—Titan-time."</p> - -<p>"Good," Staley said determinedly. "I must put my plan into immediate -operation. In ten minutes, Sergeant, my car will move toward the -garrison. Instruct your men to direct a heavy fire at the loopholes -until I have reached the wall. The more confusion, the better; anything -that will draw the Squeakers' attention away from me. After that, -well—Inform your men of the plan, Sergeant!"</p> - -<p>Hallihan gulped and saluted. "Yes, Sir! That I'll do, Sir!" Cripes! Had -the old man lost his marbles? One man against a thousand Squeakers! -That was crazier than Hallihan's own idea! Nevertheless, the sergeant -raced away to lay down the law to the sleepy-eyed soldiers.</p> - -<p>Ten minutes later, Captain Staley's grav-car leaped from behind a -boulder and bore down swiftly on the dark garrison. Instantly the -patrolmen began howling and blasting at the garrison, drawing a -murderous return fire from the mildly-surprised Squeakers. The few -B.D.s who were still capable of its added their voices to the din, -and Staley's car lurched to a halt at the garrison wall, completely -undamaged. The Captain jumped out and fumbled inside the car a moment.</p> - -<p>What the hell was he doing, Hallihan wondered. He watched the dark -form move cautiously along the rampart and stop at a point where a -good-sized upheaval in the ground raised him to within ten feet of the -wall's top. The captain went through some strange motions. His hand dug -in his pocket and then his arms snapped back like a baseball pitcher's. -His hand flicked forward and came down to dig once more in his pocket. -Again he went through the movements of throwing something. Hallihan -scratched his head puzzledly, straining his eyes to see what Staley did -next. That was all. Staley returned to his car and climbed inside, but -the speedy little vehicle gave no indication of withdrawing from its -position against the garrison wall.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> - <div class="caption"> - <p><i>Captain Staley's arms snapped back like a baseball pitcher's.</i></p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Things quieted down a bit then, and Hallihan nearly went mad waiting -for something to happen. Now and then an atomic cannon blasted out at -the patrolmen, but the intensity of the Squeakers' fire had diminished -considerably from that of earlier in the battle. They had plenty of -time. They would wait until morning, when the sun exposed the hiding -places of the I.P. men, then it would be curtains for these hated -invaders from another world. Hallihan wished he could sleep, but he -knew if he did he might never wake up again. He waited....</p> - -<p>A minute later, the sergeant's hair almost stood on end as a prolonged, -hideous screech of terror beat against his ears, growing, swelling in -intensity, and owning a note of stark, unreasoning fear. It came from -the garrison; came from the throats of a thousand panicked Squeakers. -Hallihan's jaw gaped ludicrously as the gates burst open and hundreds -of screaming, scrabbling, sleek-boiled Squeakers spilled into the -clearing, fleeing from the garrison as fast as their skinny legs -could carry them. Hallihan recovered quickly from his surprise and -drew a bead on the leading Squeaker. The creature crumpled under the -heat-beam, shrieking in agony as his fellows trampled over him, making -pulp of his thrashing, charred body.</p> - -<p>"Give 'em hell, boys!" Hallihan shouted exultantly. "Pour it to the -rats!"</p> - -<p>The I.P. patrolmen needed no coaxing. The terrified Squeakers were -already falling by the dozens under their withering fire. The -rodent-like animals hesitated, not knowing where to turn. Some of -them ran to the canyon walls and tried to scrabble up to safety, but -the sharp-eyed soldiers nailed them before they could go a yard. An -atomic cannon started banging away from the garrison, and Hallihan knew -Captain Staley had plunged his grav-car through the open gates and -taken over one of the deadly guns. After that, it was only a question -of mopping up....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When morning came, the canyon floor looked like an inverted graveyard. -Blackened, torn bodies, all that remained of the Squeakers, littered -the clearing. Weary patrolmen emerged from behind the protecting -boulders, moving warily, lest some of the creatures were playing -possum. But the repulsive animals were quite dead.</p> - -<p>"Not more than a dozen got away," Hallihan said, satisfaction in his -voice. "They were scared to come through our lines with those B.D.s -hangin' around. The ones that did get through will probably die of that -strange disease the shaggies carry in their fur. Let's find out about -Captain Staley, men."</p> - -<p>Staley was waiting for them when they entered the garrison. And so were -fifty Barber's Delights! Staley smiled when he saw the question on -Hallihan's beefy face. Hallihan recovered enough to salute.</p> - -<p>"Everything went well, I trust, Sergeant?" Staley asked.</p> - -<p>"Yeah. I mean, yes, Sir. We really cleaned up on those devils. We won't -have to worry about them any longer. They come out of here like bats -outta hell. How'd they come to blow their tops, Captain?"</p> - -<p>"We have the B.D.s to thank for that," Staley said, fondly patting one -of the log-bodied creatures on the back.</p> - -<p>"I don't see why, Sir," Hallihan said skeptically. "We all know the -things ain't got brains enough to fight. Anyway, how in all creation -did they get in here? They—" The sergeant stopped abruptly. He clapped -a hand to his forehead in feigned exasperation and snorted disgustedly. -"Cripes, I'm stupid! I mean, I think I understand now, Sir. You had me -wondering, though. I thought you'd cracked up under the strain when -you started goin' through them crazy shenanigans in front of the wall. -I guess I ought to apologize, Sir."</p> - -<p>"No need, Sergeant. I suppose it did seem as if I had gone mad. But -I knew our only chance to beat the Squeakers was to get them into -the open, and the only way to do that was to inspire great fear in -them. The only thing the Squeakers feared was the Barber's Delights, -because of the fatal disease they bear in their fur. But obviously, I -couldn't induce these dumb creatures to storm the garrison and force -the Squeakers into the open. Then I remembered the seeds. The B.D.s' -seeds certainly couldn't object if I carried them to the garrison wall -and tossed them inside. That is exactly what I did. All there was to -do then was wait until the seeds blossomed into full-grown B.D.s and -stampeded the Squeakers right into our hands. The Squeakers' poor -marksmanship was no match for ours. I believe our work is done here, -Sergeant. Experienced miners can take over the job now."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir!" Hallihan grinned broadly. "The men will be glad to hear -that, Sir. But first, we've got a bit of a mess to clean up. Hold on to -them shovels, men, you ain't through diggin' yet. Lively, now!"</p> - -<p>"Ungh ungh!" a new B.D. sergeant took up the cry, glaring balefully at -his fellows. The obedient creatures scooted quickly after the soldiers. -Just dumb mimics, but they had saved spaceflight from an early end.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - - -<pre style='margin-top:6em'> -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRISIS ON TITAN *** - -This file should be named 63658-h.htm or 63658-h.zip - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/5/63658/ - -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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