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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..db2de09 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63836 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63836) diff --git a/old/63836-h.zip b/old/63836-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 52b5a40..0000000 --- a/old/63836-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63836-h/63836-h.htm b/old/63836-h/63836-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 07b7d46..0000000 --- a/old/63836-h/63836-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1494 +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 Morley's Weapon, by D. 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W. Barefoot - -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: Morley's Weapon - -Author: D. W. Barefoot - -Release Date: November 21, 2020 [EBook #63836] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORLEY'S WEAPON *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>MORLEY'S WEAPON</h1> - -<h2>By D. W. BAREFOOT</h2> - -<p><i>Out of the far reaches of the universe sped<br /> -the meteor swarm, cosmic question marks destined<br /> -for annihilation in the sun. But one, approximately<br /> -half a pound of frozen destruction, had a<br /> -rendezvous near Japetus with Spaceboat 6.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories March 1954.<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>It was comfortably cool in the functional, little control room, but -Morley was sweating, gently and steadily. His palms were wet, and the -thin thoughtful face, shining in the glow of the instrument panel -light, was wrinkled in an agony of concentration and doubt. He was -trying to choose between the Scylla of waking Madsen with a corollary -of biting contempt involved, and the Charybdis of attempting to land -single handed on Japetus, less than five hundred miles below. Neither -course was appealing.</p> - -<p>For the hundredth time he pondered miserably over the sad condition -of what had been a reasonably well ordered existence. The worst of -it was that he had only himself to blame, and he knew it. No one had -forced him to leave a comfortable, if poorly paid position with General -Plastics, and fill out an employment card at Satellites, Inc.</p> - -<p>He could not explain the obscure compulsion that sparked his little -personal rebellion.</p> - -<p>He didn't know, or need to know that other generations of Morleys had -fought in revolutions, or sailed in square riggers, or clawed gold from -mountainsides. When he went to the spaceline, the puzzlement of his few -friends was profound, but hardly more so than his own. And now, after -almost a year of upheaval and change, he was piloting a spaceboat along -an involute curve ending on the surface of Saturn's eighth moon. And he -was still puzzled.</p> - -<p>Satellites, Inc., had done as well as possible with the raw material -known as Morley, Vincent, No. 4628. His psychograph indicated a born -subordinate, with a normal I.Q., reasonably stable and trustworthy -though below average in initiative. They didn't inform him of this, -or the fact that they had analyzed the neurosis which had driven -him to the spaceline, and which had created by that very action the -therapeutic aid he needed. Many spacemen had similar case histories.</p> - -<p>It was those who fought the compulsion who sometimes turned down dark -pathways of the mind.</p> - -<p>For six months he attended cadet school, and graduated in due time, -fourteenth in a class of fifty. The next day he was assigned as fourth -engineman to the space freighter <i>Solarian</i>, bound to Port Ulysses, -Titan, Saturn system, with a cargo of mining machinery and supplies.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They blasted off from Chicago Spaceport on a raw March midnight. Just -another rocket take-off, routine stuff, now. But have you ever seen it? -The night, the wind, the distant city glow in the sky? On the strip -squats the massive bulk of the rocket, loading hatches closed, sealed -port holes gleaming through the gusts of rain that sweep the field. In -the sound proofed spaceport control tower the officials are relaxed -over coffee and cigarettes; their part is over; they sit watching.</p> - -<p>Somewhere in the mighty shell on the field, chronometer hands reach the -calculated second, a circuit closes, relays chatter briefly. The rocket -igniters are firing, flame billows over the field, a low rumble from -the tubes builds to a throbbing roar. Twenty miles away a housewife -looks up, a question on her face. Her husband listens and smiles. "It's -the Saturn rocket. It's here in the paper, under Departures."</p> - -<p>On the field the roar rises to an insane bellow of sound. Under the -mighty jets, the ten feet of concrete and the solid earth beneath it -are shaking. In the insulated control tower a water glass dances in its -holder. The watchers are not relaxed now; they lean forward.</p> - -<p>It's old stuff, routine, precalculated to a fraction of a second, -but—watch. There—a stir—movement. Slowly at first, with a deliberate -and awful majesty, then faster and faster.</p> - -<p>Straight toward the zenith the ship rises, trailing fire. Faster yet, -hurling herself upward, under full power, through the last threads of -atmosphere. Upward and onward, out past Roches limit, out where gravity -dwindles toward zero, into the empyrean where the shades of dead -spacemen cruise the cosmos in their phantom craft, spaceborne in the -night.</p> - -<p>After he had recovered from the pangs of his initial attack of space -nausea, Morley enjoyed himself. He had one minor social asset, a -retentive mind, well stocked with general information. If the two -apprentices got involved in an argument over the identity of the -highest peak in America, Morley was the inevitable arbiter. He could -with equal facility name the author of a recent best seller, or inform -you that a young seal was a cub, a young hare, a leveret, and a young -swan, a cygnet.</p> - -<p>He was fairly popular with the crew, except for a big Norwegian from -New York, named Olaf Madsen. Madsen was a chunky, hard bitten veteran -of the spaceways. Round faced, deceptively soft spoken, he had a -penchant for practical jokes, and a flair for biting sarcasm which -found full expression in the presence of any first tripper. He made -the life of any apprentice miserable, and finished the last two weeks -of one trip in the brig for panicking an entire crew by painting his -face to resemble the onset of Martian blue fever. Morley considered him -an oaf, and he considered Morley a human filing cabinet with a weak -stomach.</p> - -<p>A little notice on the bulletin board was Morley's first inkling that -his safe, secure routine was on the verge of mutating into something -frighteningly unpredictable.</p> - -<p>"All personnel not on duty will report to the recreation room at 1900 -hours, Solar time, to draw for side trip partners and destinations," -it read.</p> - -<p>He buttonholed the crew messman. "What's all this about side trips, -Oscar?"</p> - -<p>Roly poly Oscar looked at him incredulously. "The lay over trips. The -time killer. On the level, don't you know?"</p> - -<p>Morley shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Well," Oscar told him, "We leave Earth shortly before Saturn is in -opposition. They figure on the shortest possible run, which takes three -months. If we discharge and start right back, the round trip would take -about six months. That's fine, except that the synodic period for Earth -and Saturn—Hey, you know what I'm talking about?"</p> - -<p>Morley admitted his ignorance, vaguely annoyed at the fact that for -once he was the humble seeker for information, and someone else was -being professorial.</p> - -<p>Oscar grinned. "And you studied astrogation! Well, when Saturn and -Earth line up with the Sun, it takes three hundred and seventy eight -days before they get in the same position again. So if we got back to -Earth's orbit in six months, we'd still have about a hundred and eighty -millions of miles to go, because Earth would be on Sol's other side at -that time, in superior conjunction to Uranus."</p> - -<p>Morley digested this, while Oscar basked in the light of his own -knowledge, enjoying himself hugely.</p> - -<p>"And the trips, Oscar?"</p> - -<p>"We lay over three or four months, 'til opposition time isn't too -far away, and we pick partners and destinations by lot, and go out -to Saturn's other moons on prospecting trips—ore deposits, jewels, -botanical specimens, etc.—half for us, and half for the Company. It's -a good deal, a regular vacation, and those two-men craft are sweet -stuff. And if you're lucky—"</p> - -<p>He went on, but Morley heard no more. The prospect unnerved him. He -was terrified at the idea of changing a safe subordinate position for -that of an active partner, however temporary the arrangement might be. -At the drawing, his hunch of impending misery proved all too real. He -wound up facing the prospect of a stay on the frozen hell of Phoebe, -scouring the miniature mountains for Japori crystals, with Madsen, -MADSEN! for his only companion.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A week later the Solarian teetered down to a landing at Port Ulysses. -With various expressions of profane and unbounded delight from her -crew, she was turned over to the stevedores and the maintenance gang. -Thereafter, at intervals, the thirty foot space boats took off for -Mimas, Tethys, Dione, or whatever waystop the lottery had decreed. -Madsen and Morley left on the fourth 'night,' with Phoebe hardly a -week's run from them at ten miles a second.</p> - -<p>Madsen was at the controls. Without a single spoken word on the -subject, he was automatically the captain, and Morley, the crew. The -situation crystallized twenty-four hours out of Port Ulysses. Morley -was poring over the Ephemeris prior to taking his watch at the controls -when he became aware that Madsen, red faced and breathing heavily, was -peering over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>Morley stiffened in alarm. "Is anything—" He quailed under Madsen's -glare.</p> - -<p>"Not yet, but there's liable to be if you don't smarten up." The -Norwegian's blunt forefinger stabbed at the page Morley had been -studying. "Phoebe, Mister, happens to be Saturn's NINTH moon. Get it? -You can count, can't you?"</p> - -<p>Morley flushed, and fumbled miserably for a reasonable excuse. There -was a gleam of contempt in Madsen's eyes, but he spoke again more -quietly. "I'm going to eat and catch up on some sack time. We'll be -right on top of Japetus in short order. It's a known fact that the moon -won't move over if you fly at it, so you better wake me up to handle -the compensating!" He disappeared into the tiny galley, but his words -were still audible. "It's an awful long walk back, chum, if anybody -pulls a bull."</p> - -<p>Morley swung himself into the pilot's seat, too numb with humiliation -to answer. Almost an hour passed before he started the regulation -checkup required by the Space Code of any ship passing within one -hundred thousand miles of a planet or major satellite. Every guardian -needle stood in its normal place with one exception. The craft had been -running on the port fuel tanks, depleting them to the point where it -seemed wise to trim ship. Morley opened the valve, touched the fuel -pump switch and waited, nothing happened. He watched the needles -incredulously. The pump—? He jabbed the switch, once, twice. Nothing.</p> - -<p>He leaned forward and rapped the starboard gauge with his knuckles, -sharply. The needle swung from Full to Empty. Morley felt faint as -realization hit him. The starboard gauge had stuck at Full, and had -been unreported. The tank had not been serviced in port, owing to -the faulty reading and a mechanic's carelessness. They had about two -hours fuel. Even to Morley, it was obvious that there was one thing -only to do—land on Japetus, looming up larger in the view-plate with -each passing moment. He checked the distance rapidly, punched the -calculator, and put the ship in the designated orbit. He wanted to -handle the landing himself, but the thought of the final few ticklish -moments chilled him. So did the thought of waking Madsen, and asking -him to take over.</p> - -<p>And it was then, at the intersection of two courses formed by an -infinity of variables, that two objects arrived in the same millisecond -of time. Eight ounces of nickel iron smashed into the stern of -Spaceboat 6, ripped a path of ruin through her entire length, and went -out through the two inch glass of her bow, before Morley could turn -his head. He was aware, in a strange dream-like way, of actuating -the midships airtight door, of the hiss of air as the little aneroid -automatically opened valves to compensate for the drop in pressure, and -of Madsen leaping into the control room and slapping a Johnson patch -over the hole in the bow.</p> - -<p>Madsen was white but composed. "We can slow her down but we can't land -her. Get suits while I take over. We'll ride as far as we can, and -walk the rest of the way." He fought with the controls, as Morley, -still bemused, obeyed. At twenty-five hundred feet they bailed out, -and floating down seconds later, watched Spaceboat 6 crash into a low -wooded hill. And when they landed, and inspected the wreckage, it was -some minutes before either spoke.</p> - -<p>It was obvious at a glance that Spaceboat 6 was ready for the boneyard, -had there been one around. The ship, under the few automatic controls -that were still functioning, had sliced in at a thirty degree angle, -ploughed a short distance through a growth of slim, poplar-like trees, -and then crumpled completely against an outcropping granite ledge. -Finally Morley gulped audibly, and Madsen laughed.</p> - -<p>"Well, Mastermind, any suggestions that might help us? Any little -pearls of wisdom from the great brain?"</p> - -<p>"Just one," Morley answered. "Head for the Equator, and—"</p> - -<p>"And try to find a D.D. Correct. If we last that long. Let's salvage -what we can out of this junk and shove off."</p> - -<p>Morley cleared his throat diffidently. "There are a few pieces of -equipment we should take along, for—er—emergencies—" His voice -trailed off miserably under Madsen's basilisk stare.</p> - -<p>"Listen, Morley, once and for all. We're lugging essentials and that's -all. Any extra weight is out."</p> - -<p>"But, listen—"</p> - -<p>Madsen ignored the interruption, and cut loose with one last broadside. -"Save your breath. It's bad enough being saddled with a useless little -squirt like you, without being made into a pack mule unnecessarily."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">II</p> - -<p>He climbed into a gaping hole in the bow. Morley followed, humiliated -but still thinking hard. Catalogue it, he told himself. Remember -everything. The Distress Depots, or D.D.'s, as spacemen called them, -were studded on every frontier world, usually on the Equator. They -contained two small spacecraft plus ample supplies of food, medicine, -and tools. When wrecked, get to a D.D. and live. It was that simple.</p> - -<p>They spent an hour worming their way through the shambles that had -been the well ordered interior of Spaceboat 6, before emerging to take -stock of their loot on the ground outside. Both men knew that they -were pitifully equipped to cover several hundred miles, on foot, in -a completely hostile environment. Suddenly Madsen looked up from the -sextant he was examining.</p> - -<p>"How come this gravity, Brain? I weigh about a hundred right now, I -figure, and that's too much, by plenty. Japetus isn't a quarter the -size of our moon."</p> - -<p>"It's supposed to have a core of heavy radioactive metals," said -Morley, thoughtfully, "and a corresponding high density. Keeps it warm -anyway, instead of a big icicle, like Phoebe."</p> - -<p>"Phoebe!" Madsen laughed. "I remember, back in '89—" He stopped -abruptly at a rattling from the ledge. A green, little lizard-like -creature was scrambling frantically over the granite, while hot in -pursuit were three—spiders? Black, they were, a black like living -velvet, and incredibly fast as they closed in, beady stalked eyes -fastened on their prey. They were deliberately herding the desperate -lizard toward a cleft in the rock. As the creature leaped into the -opening, another spider dove at it from the recess. The others closed -in. There was a hopeless hissing, a vicious clicking of mandibles. The -struggle subsided. Once again the day was silent. Madsen holstered the -blaster he had drawn and looked whitely at Morley.</p> - -<p>"Pleasant pets," he grunted.</p> - -<p>"Poisonous and carnivorous, too," said Morley, shakingly. "I remember -reading that Valdez dissected one when he first landed here twenty -years ago. One of his crew was bitten, and died in less than five -minutes."</p> - -<p>Madsen was thoughtful. "We could stand a little briefing on the local -flora and fauna, but palaver won't get us to the Equator. And that -little stock treatise entitled 'Physical Attributes of Phoebe' is worse -than useless. Lucky the sextant is O.K., we can at least check our -latitude. There's just one flaw."</p> - -<p>"What's that?"</p> - -<p>"Which way do we go when we hit the line? The D.D.'s are spaced ninety -degrees apart. We might be within a hundred miles of one. If we head -the wrong way, we'd have three or four hundred miles to go. There's no -method of figuring our longitude."</p> - -<p>Morley was staring sunward, with thoughtful eyes. "Yes, there is," he -said quietly.</p> - -<p>Madsen's jaw dropped. "Give," he said.</p> - -<p>"We both forgot something we know perfectly well. Notice the sun? It -hasn't moved perceptibly since we landed. Japetus doesn't revolve on -its axis."</p> - -<p>"So what?"</p> - -<p>"Two things. One, no night, since we're on the sunward side. The sun -will move from side to side in the sky, reaching its lateral limits -when Japetus is in quadrature in regard to Saturn. If we were here for -a month, we'd see Saturn rise, make a full arc through the sky, and -set. Let's hope for a shorter stay."</p> - -<p>"Go on," said Madsen, and suddenly there was nothing patronizing or -scornful in his voice.</p> - -<p>"Two. We came in over the Pole almost exactly at inferior conjunction. -Right?"</p> - -<p>"I think I get it." Madsen answered slowly.</p> - -<p>For a moment Morley was silent. He could almost smell the dingy -classroom in Port Chicago, almost see the words on the examination -paper in front of him. The paragraph leaped out, limned sharply in his -mind. "Section 4, Subhead A, Solar Space Code. The initial Distress -Depot on any satellite shall be situated, when practical, on the -Prime Meridian. For the purposes of this act, the Prime Meridian of a -satellite shall be the meridian that bisects the Sun when the Satellite -is in inferior conjunction. Quarter mile belts shall be burned fifty -miles to the North, South, East, and West as guides. Radio beacons will -operate, unless impracticable due to atmospheric conditions, or other -reasons."</p> - -<p>"We're on, or practically on the Prime Meridian right now," said -Madsen. "A trek due South should hit D.D. No. 1 square on the nose. -Right?"</p> - -<p>"Right. Two or three hundred miles to go. We might make it in two -weeks."</p> - -<p>Madsen squinted at the stationary disk of Sol, hanging in the sky. -"Let's load up and get started. The sooner we're on our way, the -better."</p> - -<p>Both men had discarded their space suits, were dressed in the gray -work clothes of Satellites, Inc. Equipment was easily divided. Each -had a blaster, and a wrist compass-chronometer. Radio was useless on -Japetus, and the little headsets were ruthlessly jettisoned. The flat -tins of emergency food concentrate were stowed in two knapsacks. Madsen -took charge of the sextant, and Morley carried a lightweight repeating -rifle for possible game that might be out of blaster range. Canteens, -a pocket first-aid kit, and a small heliograph, were the final items, -except for several articles which Morley unobtrusively stowed away -about his person.</p> - -<p>Less than three hours after the crash, the two men shouldered their -burdens, took a bearing to determine their course, and headed into the -south.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In a matter of minutes Spaceboat 6 was out of sight. With Madsen -leading, they threaded their way through the scant undergrowth. -Underfoot the dry, broad-bladed grass rustled through a morning that -had no beginning or end. Farther away were other and less easily -explained rustlings, and once both men froze as a half-dozen of what -looked like baby dragons arrowed past within yards of them.</p> - -<p>"Formation flying, like ducks," muttered Morley, watching from the -corner of his eye.</p> - -<p>When the whispering of scaled wings had died away, the castaways -resumed their steady plodding into the south. Twice they crossed small -fresh water brooks, providing a welcome opportunity to drink their -fill, and replenish the canteens. The going was easy, since the footing -was in fairly dense soil, and the scrub was not so thick as to provide -any difficulties. After eight hours of nearly continuous travel, they -reached the banks of a third stream. Here Madsen stopped, and dropped -his knapsack to the ground.</p> - -<p>"Campsite," he grunted.</p> - -<p>"Alabama," Morley murmured.</p> - -<p>Madsen goggled. "Are you delirious? What do you mean—Alabama?"</p> - -<p>Morley laughed sheepishly. "Alabama means 'Here we rest,' I said it -without thinking."</p> - -<p>Madsen was grinning now. "What beats me is how you remember all that -junk. I'd go nuts if I tried to clutter up my mind with a bunch of -useless data. Alabama!"</p> - -<p>"I don't have to try to remember things," Morley said thoughtfully. "If -I read or hear something that seems the least bit curious or unusual, -it just sticks. And sometimes it's useful."</p> - -<p>"Such as?"</p> - -<p>"Well, remember when Storybook ran a mile last year in 1.29? He was -the first to break 1.30. Some joe that knew a lot about horses gave me -an argument in a bar about the first horse to break 1.40. He bet me -ten credits it was Man o' War. I knew it was Ten Broeck, and I got an -almanac and proved it."</p> - -<p>Madsen looked up from the tin of coffee concentrate he was opening. -"Hasn't anyone ever tried to win an argument by poking you one in the -snoot?"</p> - -<p>"Once or twice." Morley was almost apologetic. "But I learned judo a -few years ago, just for the hell of it, so I didn't get hurt much."</p> - -<p>"You're a whiz with the sabre, no doubt?" said Madsen dryly.</p> - -<p>"No, I tried swordplay for a while, but gave it up. It's a little too, -er—primitive for my tastes."</p> - -<p>"Primitive!" Madsen glanced around at the alien scene and nearly -choked. "I'm crossing my fingers, but what would you do if some -carnivore, or a gang of those spiders suddenly appeared and started for -us with evil intentions?"</p> - -<p>"I think I'd run," said Morley simply. "It was pretty dull at General -Plastic but at least the comptometers weren't man-eating."</p> - -<p>Madsen blinked, and seeming to find expression difficult, forbore to -answer.</p> - -<p>They ate, and relaxed on the soft sod, lulled almost into a feeling -of security. Not being foolhardy, however, they slept in six hour -shifts. Morley stood the first watch, and slept the second. When he -awoke, Madsen was tensely examining a ration tin. Jarred into instant -alertness by a feeling of urgency and alarm, Morley leaped to his feet.</p> - -<p>"Something wrong?"</p> - -<p>Without answering, Madsen handed him the tin. It was pockmarked with -inch wide patches of metallic gray fungus, from several of which liquid -was seeping. There was a sharp odor of decay.</p> - -<p>Madsen was hastily dumping the contents of the knapsacks on the ground. -Morley joined him, and both men commenced scraping the clinging gray -patches from the tins. All but three were perforated and ruined.</p> - -<p>"We'll at least be traveling light from now on," Madsen said. "Any idea -what this stuff is?"</p> - -<p>"Some of that lichen, or whatever it is, was around the scene of the -crash," Morley answered. "The stuff must have an affinity for tin; -probably secretes some acid that dissolves it. Only trouble is, it goes -through thin steel too."</p> - -<p>Madsen commenced repacking their effects.</p> - -<p>"From now on, laddie, keep your eyes peeled for game, and if you see -any, use that rifle. If we don't knock down some meat, and soon, we -aren't going to make it. Might as well realize it right now."</p> - -<p>"Were you ever wrecked before, Madsen?"</p> - -<p>"Once, on Venus. Cartographic expedition."</p> - -<p>"What happened?"</p> - -<p>"Tubes blew and we made a forced landing. Wound up sitting in the -middle of a pile of highgrade scrap."</p> - -<p>"What did you do then?"</p> - -<p>Madsen shouldered his knapsack and smiled condescendingly.</p> - -<p>"Not a thing, Mr. Fix-it. We didn't have to. Since I seem to have -accidentally stumbled on something new and strange to you, add this to -your files. It's usual on cartographic trips of any length, for one -ship to go out, while another stays at a temporary base, and keeps in -constant directional radio contact. If anything happens, they come -a-running. Makes it fine for us uninformed common people."</p> - -<p>"Oh."</p> - -<p>"Of course, this is somewhat different. If we don't get out by -ourselves, whoever finds us need only say, 'X marks the spot.'"</p> - -<p>Morley didn't bother answering. No comment was necessary. He knew as -well as Madsen that whatever margin of safety they possessed had been -shaved to the vanishing point.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They made twenty miles in a forced march, slept, ate, and then traveled -again. The stunted forest grew thinner, and occasionally they crossed -open spaces acres in extent. Twice they saw, in the distance, animals -resembling terrestrial deer, and on the second occasion Morley tried -a fruitless shot. They slept and ate again, and now the last of the -rations were gone. They went on.</p> - -<p>As they made southing, the dull sun crept higher in the sky by -infinitesimal degrees. Now the going became tougher. Patches of evil -looking muskeg began to appear in the scrub, and the stunted trees -themselves gradually gave way to six foot ferns. There were occasional -signs that some creature had been foraging on the lush growth. When -they found fresh tracks in the soft footing, Morley unlimbered the -rifle, and the two men trod more softly. By that time either would have -cheerfully made a meal on one of the miniature flying dragons, alive -and kicking, and the thought of a juicy steak from some local herbivore -was as soul stirring as the sight of Mecca to a true believer.</p> - -<p>Both men whirled at a sudden crashing on their left. Something like a -large splay footed kangaroo broke cover, and went loping away, clearing -the fern tops at every bound. In one motion Morley whipped up the -rifle and fired. There was an earsplitting report, the leaper kept -right on going, under forced draught, and the two castaways stared in -consternation at a rifle that resembled a bundle of metallic macaroni -more than it did a firearm.</p> - -<p>Madsen spoke first. "You probably got some mud in the barrel when we -stopped last time," he accused. "Look at us now."</p> - -<p>Morley started to mumble an apology, but Madsen cut him short. "Look at -us now," he repeated, with all stops out. "It was bad before, now it's -practically hopeless. Our only long range gun! What do we do now if we -do find game—dig pits for it?"</p> - -<p>If a man can be said to slink without changing his position, Morley -slunk. Madsen continued, double fortissimo.</p> - -<p>"A kid of ten knows enough to keep a gun clean, but you, Mr.—Mr. -Unabridged Webster in the flesh—"</p> - -<p>He stopped, temporarily out of breath. Morley regarded him abjectly, -and suddenly Madsen began to feel a little ashamed. After all, the -fellow had figured out that business about the meridian.</p> - -<p>"No use in having any post mortems," he said, with fine logic. "Throw -that junk away. It's that much less to carry, anyway."</p> - -<p>Two hours later, they plodded wearily through the last of the swamp -onto higher ground. The two haggard, muddied figures that threw -themselves on the dry soil to rest bore little resemblance to the men -who had parachuted from Spaceboat 6 seventy-two hours before.</p> - -<p>The slope on which they rested was tufted with small bushes. One -particular type with narrow dark green leaves bore clusters of fruit -like small plums, which Madsen eyed speculatively.</p> - -<p>"Do we risk it?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Might as well."</p> - -<p>Morley was completely unaware that he had just accepted the -responsibility for making a decision.</p> - -<p>"We can't afford not to risk it," he said, adding, with little show of -enthusiasm, "I'll be the guinea pig."</p> - -<p>"Take it easy, chum," Madsen countered. "We'll match for it."</p> - -<p>They matched and Morley called it wrong. He plucked a sample of the -fruit and stood regarding it like some bewhiskered Little Jack Horner. -Finally he broke the thin skin with his thumbnail and gingerly conveyed -a couple of drops of juice to his tongue. The taste was simultaneously -oily and faintly sweet, and after a short wait he essayed a fair -sized bite. Madsen was about to follow suit, when Morley motioned him -to wait. The next second he was rolling on the ground, coughing and -choking, while Madsen tried grimly to feed him water from a canteen.</p> - -<p>It was no use. The throat tissues became swollen and inflamed in -seconds, to the point of agony, and swallowing was totally impossible. -To this was shortly added an overpowering nausea. When the retching -finally stopped, Morley tried to speak, but in vain. Even the effort -meant waves of pain.</p> - -<p>Madsen watched helplessly, and when the spasms of choking finally -stopped, spoke gently.</p> - -<p>"We'll be camping right here for a while, looks like. Try to get some -sleep if it slacks off any. You'll be okay in a while."</p> - -<p>His doubts were hidden, and Morley thanked him with his eyes.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">III</p> - -<p>As the hours dragged on, Madsen sat quietly on guard, while the sick -man tossed in uneasy slumber. The eternal day was comfortably warm, and -eventually the watcher closed his eyes. Just for a moment, he thought -drowsily, just for a nap. Head pillowed on his arm, he slept. The -alien hillside was very quiet. He slept, dreaming of the long trip -home, of Port Chicago, of beer, and girls, and a fistfull of credits.</p> - -<p>When Madsen awoke, he knew instantly that something was out of key, -that some subtle change in the surroundings had triggered a warning -bell in his subconscious. Without any sudden move, he cast an all -inclusive glance over the surrounding terrain. Morley still slept, and -the scene seemed unchanged. But no! Wait! There on the fitful breeze -that had sprung up, that faint sweetish smell. He sniffed, facing -upwind. What the devil was it? Frowning, he stared toward the crest of -the hill. There was one tree, a few rods away, that seemed different -from the others. Larger, and the branches were whiplike, drooping. It -looked vaguely like a weeping willow on Earth. Madsen started toward -it, walking softly. As he drew nearer, the scent became stronger, and -now he recognized it. Carrion! It was coming from the tree, and he was -able to see the source.</p> - -<p>The corpses of two or three scaled green lizards, and one of the -lopers from the fern forest. The drooping limbs of the tree moved -undulantly in the breeze, almost as if they possessed an awareness of -his approach, and he noticed that they were armed with two inch thorns. -He was very close now. He took another step, and then, without warning, -every nerve and muscle seemed to twist and contract violently. Blacking -out between two breaths, he still realized what had happened. Once -before, on Ceres, he had experienced the paralyzing effect of a blaster -bolt from a weapon set at high aperture.</p> - -<p>An hour passed. Deep down in the blackness, in the solid dark, some -wisp of consciousness stirred and quickened. It quested, as the black -became gray. It flowered into life, Ego once again, suddenly aware of -the pale warm sunlight, and an intolerable aching. He looked up at -Morley and cursed.</p> - -<p>"Why did you do it?"</p> - -<p>"Had to." Morley's voice was a harsh whisper. "You'd have been a goner -in another step or two, and I couldn't yell. That tree's deadly."</p> - -<p>"So that's it." A pause. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you -know?"</p> - -<p>"Remembered it from a picture in Valdez' book, when I saw you walking -into that—thing! Watch this."</p> - -<p>He picked up a chunk of shale, and lobbed it into the tree. The -reaction was violent and immediate. The formerly quiescent limbs -whipped sinuously through the air, their thorny armament glinting in -the light. Madsen felt the back of his neck tingle at the hiss of their -passage. Dozens of black, hornet-like insects took wing, and buzzed -angrily and aimlessly around until the agitated motion subsided and the -tree sank slowly into its former somnolence.</p> - -<p>"How does it work?" asked Madsen.</p> - -<p>"The thorns, they're almost instantly lethal. Notice those wasps, or -whatever they are?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah."</p> - -<p>"Well, they live in those trees, and pollinate them. They lay eggs in -the game that the tree polishes off. When the larvae graduate and get -their wings, they make a brief nuptial flight, and set up housekeeping -in a similar tree. Other insects stay away. It's a beautiful case of -highly specialized symbiosis."</p> - -<p>"Funny, eh?"</p> - -<p>"Not very. You might say our position is similar, to a degree. How are -you feeling now?"</p> - -<p>"A lot better, except for the ache. Your throat seems to be coming -along all right, too." His eyes ranged the slope, estimating the -distance to their initial resting place. "Man alive, I was lucky to be -in range!"</p> - -<p>"You were at that, Madsen. There's just one chronic bug in energy -weapons, the old law of inverse squares. Short range tools, that's all."</p> - -<p>"You said it. Say, Morley—"</p> - -<p>"Yes?"</p> - -<p>"Doesn't a symbiotic relationship usually refer to some type of -parasitism? Sort of a put and take game, with one organism doing all -the putting, and the other, all the taking?"</p> - -<p>Can it be? thought Morley, incredulously. Honest gratitude was natural, -but the idea that Madsen's granite exterior might conceal a slowly -burgeoning respect—!</p> - -<p>"Not exactly," he said carefully. "Often there is a mutual dependence, -as with us. That's what I meant to say in the first place."</p> - -<p>"Thanks. I feel, well, pretty foolish about being so careless, and -holding us up. Not that I'd have gone on walking into that tree, mind -you. And I'd hate to have you think of me as a human—liana, or remora, -or something."</p> - -<p>"Don't be silly. We're partners, aren't we?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah, that's true. Morley, I—"</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"Thanks, a lot."</p> - -<p>"Er—that's all right. Skip it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The mesa stretched to the horizon on all sides, timeless and -forbidding, drowsing through the sunlit millennia. To a casual -celestial voyager, it would have appeared barren of life, except for -the two scarecrow figures which scrabbled in the sand in spots where -a stunted, ropy vine was growing. At intervals one or the other would -triumphantly dig out a baseball-sized melon like object, and wolf it -hungrily, the juice dribbling over his bearded chin. The trail they -had made was blurred in spots where they had fallen, light-headed with -weakness. The melons helped, though their caloric count would never -constitute a dietitian's dream of joy. They were food, of a sort, and -more important, water. Finally one of the figures scrambled to his -feet, and stared defiantly at the dim sun, higher now, but still far -from the zenith.</p> - -<p>"Let's get going," said Morley thickly.</p> - -<p>The two men shambled silently through the knee-high grass and -dwarf trees of the savannah. They didn't feel particularly hungry -anymore. There was only a vaguely irritating condition of lassitude, -and dizziness, and an annoying tendency of the knees to buckle -uncontrollably without the slightest warning. They plodded on, weaving -uncertainly from time to time. There was game here, creatures like -antelope, but they maddeningly stayed well out of blaster range. Madsen -had discarded everything but his pack, while Morley's weapon still -hung at his hip. With seemingly irrational stubbornness, he also clung -to the impedimenta he had picked up at the wreck, despite Madsen's -petulant remarks about excess weight.</p> - -<p>It seemed to Morley as if they had been traveling forever through -some grassy Gehenna. It grew harder and harder for him to think in -logical sequence. When he climbed painfully to his feet after a fall, -he had to fight back a sudden overwhelming urge to burst into babyish -tears. Madsen hardly ever fell down. It didn't seem fair, and he wished -bitterly that he were more like Madsen. Still he fought on without -knowing why. Another step, and another, and a thousand more, each one -an individual effort to which he forced his failing muscles.</p> - -<p>Another eternity or two passed, and suddenly Madsen staggered and sat -down in his tracks. He stared resentfully at his knapsack and then -peered up at Morley.</p> - -<p>"We've still got four of those melon things. If we eat them now, we -won't have to carry them. How about it?" he mumbled.</p> - -<p>Through Morley's weariness crept a doubt as to the validity of his -comrade's logic, but it seemed to be too difficult to analyze at the -moment.</p> - -<p>They ate the scanty meal in silence, and rested for an hour, half -comatose. Then, somewhat refreshed, Morley levered himself slowly -erect. He stirred Madsen with his toe.</p> - -<p>"Up and at 'em, chum."</p> - -<p>Madsen blinked at him and started to rise. He was on one knee, when -suddenly, he turned his head in a listening attitude. Morley had heard -the distant hum, too, and was standing stock still, an anxious frown on -his gaunt face. Madsen was on the verge of scrambling to his feet, when -Morley spoke.</p> - -<p>"Don't move."</p> - -<p>"What's the—?"</p> - -<p>"Shut up, for God's sake. Don't stir." He was trembling, his bony -features white as paper under their coating of grime. Madsen froze, -wordless. Sailing through the tall grass, straight toward them, came -one of the gray antelope-like creatures. It passed within twenty feet. -They could see the heaving flanks, the foam on its muzzle, the rolling, -terror stricken eyes. Close behind, and closing in rapidly, came the -origin of the hum. It was a host of tiny iridescent flying creatures, -no larger than bumblebees. They streaked by, green and crimson winged -gems, the hum rising to a vicious crescendo.</p> - -<p>The chase ended a hundred yards away. As the cloud struck, the antelope -screamed, a lone cry of agony and despair. It staggered once, tried -to leap forward, staggered again, was down. There was a threshing, a -violent movement of the grass, then silence.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">IV</p> - -<p>A quarter of an hour passed before a rising hum announced the ending of -the feast. The component parts of the cloud took flight, coalesced into -a group, vanished into the distance.</p> - -<p>Madsen broke first, heading for the remains of the antelope, with -Morley close behind. The animal lay in a heap, drained of every drop of -blood, its punctured eyes staring sightlessly at the empty heavens.</p> - -<p>"Meat," babbled Madsen. "Chops, steak, liver, heart."</p> - -<p>"Shut up," Morley said curtly, "and start a fire." He bent to the -butchering.</p> - -<p>They ate, new life flooding into them. They were suddenly deeply -conscious of the incredible sensation of being fed, of resting with a -full stomach, of enjoying a reprieve that might be a pardon.</p> - -<p>Madsen stopped picking his teeth for a moment.</p> - -<p>"Did you know what those things were?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Sure. Sangres, Valdez called them. Means bloody in Spanish. They're -blood drinkers. There's one thing, though, you're pretty safe if you -don't move. Those sweet little birds—and they are birds, as a matter -of fact—hunt by sight."</p> - -<p>Madsen was silent. Then he laughed, and turned to eye the remains of -the antelope fondly.</p> - -<p>"And to think we didn't even have to bleed it," he said. "When we get -back, you might recommend some books for me to read, if you feel like -doing a good turn."</p> - -<p>Morley was laughing, too. "It's a deal."</p> - -<p>When they resumed their trek, both knapsacks were loaded with meat, -cut into strips, and well smoked. The travelers were staggering no -longer, though once again they were traversing rising ground. An -eight-hour march brought them to the summit. At their feet the ground -fell away in a sharp slope, to level off a few miles in the distance, -and there, flowing from the west and swinging in a broad arc directly -into the south, was the silvery sheen of a river. It seemed like a -great question mark, its ends disappearing over the deceptively close -horizons of the little world.</p> - -<p>Madsen peered at the bright interrogative streak.</p> - -<p>"Pardon my ignorance, pal, but is that river really flowing south, or -am I dreaming?"</p> - -<p>"No, it's not a dream. We've been coming over a watershed evidently."</p> - -<p>"That should simplify matters. We get to the river, build a raft -somehow, if there's timber, and travel in luxury. Right?"</p> - -<p>"Right."</p> - -<p>A few hours of easy travel brought them to the bank. For some time -it had been evident that there would be ample material for a raft. -Now Morley looked at the foot-thick trunks around them, and said -thoughtfully, "We'll have to work downstream and look for windfalls or -something. We aren't equipped for lumberjack work."</p> - -<p>They had paralleled the stream for some time when suddenly Madsen -shouted in exultation.</p> - -<p>"Look!"</p> - -<p>They were standing at a point of land at a juncture of the river and -an evil looking backwater some twenty feet wide. It was bridged by one -fallen trunk, and on the other side were several more, where a falling -giant had brought down his neighbors in his collapse.</p> - -<p>Madsen hastily started across the trunk which bridged the slough, -ignoring Morley's admonition to take it easy. Halfway across, a rotten -piece of bark crumbled under his tread. He caught at the stub of a -limb, preventing a full length fall by a narrow margin, and wound up -standing in semi-liquid, knee deep mud. He had placed his hands on the -fallen trunk, preparatory to climbing back on it, when, with hardly a -warning ripple, something flipped from the muddy surface and clamped -around his wrist. Another slapped across his neck, and clung.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Madsen tore at them in vain, waves of revulsion flooding him. The -things were inch-thick ribbons, a foot and a half long, and about -six inches wide, a mottled green in color. There was an unspeakable -repulsion about their touch, and they were coldly, clammily strong. Now -the surface of the slough was churning as the hideous swarm converged, -and Madsen felt his strength fading as a light dims when an electrician -turns a rheostat. He tried to keep fighting, but his muscles refused to -answer his will. Immobile, but fully conscious, with his insides a ball -of cold horror, he waited.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Meanwhile, Morley, on solid ground, was clawing the contents from his -knapsack, scattering jerky on all sides.</p> - -<p>The tableau on the bank was within Madsen's range of vision as he lay -half immersed in mud, with the stomach-turning horrors greedily glueing -themselves to his exposed hands and face. To the sick helplessness with -which he faced the end, was added a hopeless burning rage. What was -Morley doing? Planning to offer the things some dried meat? A handful -of near-leather for something that lusted and craved for hot blood? -What a way to cash in. A living buffet dinner for alien monstrosities, -while a white faced weak sister fumbled frantically, safely, in a -useless knapsack. A band of cold, hungry malignance fastened itself to -his forehead, just missing his left eye.</p> - -<p>Dully, he watched Morley come up with something like a small -flashlight, saw him thumb the switch, and commence crawling out on the -log to where Madsen lay half submerged. Once within range, he played -the invisible beam from the little device over Madsen's inert body. -The result was instantaneous. The giant leeches relaxed their grip and -disappeared under the mud with startling rapidity. Morley retched at a -glimpse of a sucker-lined underbelly. Then he hooked his weapon on his -belt and dragged Madsen to dry land.</p> - -<p>The victim's frantic eyes showed he was obviously conscious, though -unable to move or speak. Morley promptly launched into a reassuring -monologue.</p> - -<p>"Don't worry, you'll be O.K. in a few hours. Those things temporarily -short circuit the nervous energy of their prey in some manner. They -call them sanguisuga, means bloodsucker. They're sensitive only to -strong ultraviolet, like a lot of extra-terrestrial life."</p> - -<p>He removed the little projector from his belt.</p> - -<p>"That's why I've been lugging this airlock disinfector all the way. I -had a hunch it might come in handy. And look."</p> - -<p>He unbuttoned his shirt, exposing a length of thin cord coiled around -his waist.</p> - -<p>"I wasn't going to show you this, but now we can use it for lashings -for the raft we're going to build as soon as you're better."</p> - -<p>"Even a rope," said Madsen slowly. He articulated with difficulty, his -nerves tingling with returning life.</p> - -<p>Forty-eight hours later they were far to the South, floating down -the nameless river on their improvised raft. There was no feeling of -captain and crew, now. Just two men, fighting together. And winning.</p> - -<p>The sextant had long since been discarded, and both men were staring -at a rickety tripod, from which a button was suspended by a piece of -ravelled thread. The shadow it cast was a dark dot. Madsen spoke first.</p> - -<p>"You're quite a gadgeteer, aren't you. It's simple, at that. The closer -we are to the equator, the higher the sun, and the shorter the shadow. -Voila!"</p> - -<p>Morley laughed and stretched. The change in equilibrium set the little -pendulum to swinging gently, and he watched it intently as the motion -slowly ceased.</p> - -<p>"It's been that way for hours now. We should be nearly there."</p> - -<p>Madsen scanned the bank. "Any time now, any time."</p> - -<p>An hour later they saw it. A quarter mile lane burned through the trees -and shrubs, running straight as a string from the horizon to the river, -and continuing on the other side. They beached the raft, in case the -necessity arose to cross back, and trudged until they came to the first -mile marker. They were on the right side. The arrow pointed in the -direction they were going, and the enamelled sign said, simply,</p> - -<p class="ph1">JAPETUS D.D. No. 1<br /> -12 m.<br /> -19 km.</p> - -<p>After a pause, Madsen spoke. "We made it, thanks to what you knew about -Japetus. All those little things that added up."</p> - -<p>"Oh those," said Morley. "Just," he hesitated. "Just—odds and ends."</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Morley's Weapon, by D. W. 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W. Barefoot - -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: Morley's Weapon - -Author: D. W. Barefoot - -Release Date: November 21, 2020 [EBook #63836] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORLEY'S WEAPON *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - MORLEY'S WEAPON - - By D. W. BAREFOOT - - _Out of the far reaches of the universe sped - the meteor swarm, cosmic question marks destined - for annihilation in the sun. But one, approximately - half a pound of frozen destruction, had a - rendezvous near Japetus with Spaceboat 6._ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories March 1954. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -It was comfortably cool in the functional, little control room, but -Morley was sweating, gently and steadily. His palms were wet, and the -thin thoughtful face, shining in the glow of the instrument panel -light, was wrinkled in an agony of concentration and doubt. He was -trying to choose between the Scylla of waking Madsen with a corollary -of biting contempt involved, and the Charybdis of attempting to land -single handed on Japetus, less than five hundred miles below. Neither -course was appealing. - -For the hundredth time he pondered miserably over the sad condition -of what had been a reasonably well ordered existence. The worst of -it was that he had only himself to blame, and he knew it. No one had -forced him to leave a comfortable, if poorly paid position with General -Plastics, and fill out an employment card at Satellites, Inc. - -He could not explain the obscure compulsion that sparked his little -personal rebellion. - -He didn't know, or need to know that other generations of Morleys had -fought in revolutions, or sailed in square riggers, or clawed gold from -mountainsides. When he went to the spaceline, the puzzlement of his few -friends was profound, but hardly more so than his own. And now, after -almost a year of upheaval and change, he was piloting a spaceboat along -an involute curve ending on the surface of Saturn's eighth moon. And he -was still puzzled. - -Satellites, Inc., had done as well as possible with the raw material -known as Morley, Vincent, No. 4628. His psychograph indicated a born -subordinate, with a normal I.Q., reasonably stable and trustworthy -though below average in initiative. They didn't inform him of this, -or the fact that they had analyzed the neurosis which had driven -him to the spaceline, and which had created by that very action the -therapeutic aid he needed. Many spacemen had similar case histories. - -It was those who fought the compulsion who sometimes turned down dark -pathways of the mind. - -For six months he attended cadet school, and graduated in due time, -fourteenth in a class of fifty. The next day he was assigned as fourth -engineman to the space freighter _Solarian_, bound to Port Ulysses, -Titan, Saturn system, with a cargo of mining machinery and supplies. - - * * * * * - -They blasted off from Chicago Spaceport on a raw March midnight. Just -another rocket take-off, routine stuff, now. But have you ever seen it? -The night, the wind, the distant city glow in the sky? On the strip -squats the massive bulk of the rocket, loading hatches closed, sealed -port holes gleaming through the gusts of rain that sweep the field. In -the sound proofed spaceport control tower the officials are relaxed -over coffee and cigarettes; their part is over; they sit watching. - -Somewhere in the mighty shell on the field, chronometer hands reach the -calculated second, a circuit closes, relays chatter briefly. The rocket -igniters are firing, flame billows over the field, a low rumble from -the tubes builds to a throbbing roar. Twenty miles away a housewife -looks up, a question on her face. Her husband listens and smiles. "It's -the Saturn rocket. It's here in the paper, under Departures." - -On the field the roar rises to an insane bellow of sound. Under the -mighty jets, the ten feet of concrete and the solid earth beneath it -are shaking. In the insulated control tower a water glass dances in its -holder. The watchers are not relaxed now; they lean forward. - -It's old stuff, routine, precalculated to a fraction of a second, -but--watch. There--a stir--movement. Slowly at first, with a deliberate -and awful majesty, then faster and faster. - -Straight toward the zenith the ship rises, trailing fire. Faster yet, -hurling herself upward, under full power, through the last threads of -atmosphere. Upward and onward, out past Roches limit, out where gravity -dwindles toward zero, into the empyrean where the shades of dead -spacemen cruise the cosmos in their phantom craft, spaceborne in the -night. - -After he had recovered from the pangs of his initial attack of space -nausea, Morley enjoyed himself. He had one minor social asset, a -retentive mind, well stocked with general information. If the two -apprentices got involved in an argument over the identity of the -highest peak in America, Morley was the inevitable arbiter. He could -with equal facility name the author of a recent best seller, or inform -you that a young seal was a cub, a young hare, a leveret, and a young -swan, a cygnet. - -He was fairly popular with the crew, except for a big Norwegian from -New York, named Olaf Madsen. Madsen was a chunky, hard bitten veteran -of the spaceways. Round faced, deceptively soft spoken, he had a -penchant for practical jokes, and a flair for biting sarcasm which -found full expression in the presence of any first tripper. He made -the life of any apprentice miserable, and finished the last two weeks -of one trip in the brig for panicking an entire crew by painting his -face to resemble the onset of Martian blue fever. Morley considered him -an oaf, and he considered Morley a human filing cabinet with a weak -stomach. - -A little notice on the bulletin board was Morley's first inkling that -his safe, secure routine was on the verge of mutating into something -frighteningly unpredictable. - -"All personnel not on duty will report to the recreation room at 1900 -hours, Solar time, to draw for side trip partners and destinations," -it read. - -He buttonholed the crew messman. "What's all this about side trips, -Oscar?" - -Roly poly Oscar looked at him incredulously. "The lay over trips. The -time killer. On the level, don't you know?" - -Morley shook his head. - -"Well," Oscar told him, "We leave Earth shortly before Saturn is in -opposition. They figure on the shortest possible run, which takes three -months. If we discharge and start right back, the round trip would take -about six months. That's fine, except that the synodic period for Earth -and Saturn--Hey, you know what I'm talking about?" - -Morley admitted his ignorance, vaguely annoyed at the fact that for -once he was the humble seeker for information, and someone else was -being professorial. - -Oscar grinned. "And you studied astrogation! Well, when Saturn and -Earth line up with the Sun, it takes three hundred and seventy eight -days before they get in the same position again. So if we got back to -Earth's orbit in six months, we'd still have about a hundred and eighty -millions of miles to go, because Earth would be on Sol's other side at -that time, in superior conjunction to Uranus." - -Morley digested this, while Oscar basked in the light of his own -knowledge, enjoying himself hugely. - -"And the trips, Oscar?" - -"We lay over three or four months, 'til opposition time isn't too -far away, and we pick partners and destinations by lot, and go out -to Saturn's other moons on prospecting trips--ore deposits, jewels, -botanical specimens, etc.--half for us, and half for the Company. It's -a good deal, a regular vacation, and those two-men craft are sweet -stuff. And if you're lucky--" - -He went on, but Morley heard no more. The prospect unnerved him. He -was terrified at the idea of changing a safe subordinate position for -that of an active partner, however temporary the arrangement might be. -At the drawing, his hunch of impending misery proved all too real. He -wound up facing the prospect of a stay on the frozen hell of Phoebe, -scouring the miniature mountains for Japori crystals, with Madsen, -MADSEN! for his only companion. - - * * * * * - -A week later the Solarian teetered down to a landing at Port Ulysses. -With various expressions of profane and unbounded delight from her -crew, she was turned over to the stevedores and the maintenance gang. -Thereafter, at intervals, the thirty foot space boats took off for -Mimas, Tethys, Dione, or whatever waystop the lottery had decreed. -Madsen and Morley left on the fourth 'night,' with Phoebe hardly a -week's run from them at ten miles a second. - -Madsen was at the controls. Without a single spoken word on the -subject, he was automatically the captain, and Morley, the crew. The -situation crystallized twenty-four hours out of Port Ulysses. Morley -was poring over the Ephemeris prior to taking his watch at the controls -when he became aware that Madsen, red faced and breathing heavily, was -peering over his shoulder. - -Morley stiffened in alarm. "Is anything--" He quailed under Madsen's -glare. - -"Not yet, but there's liable to be if you don't smarten up." The -Norwegian's blunt forefinger stabbed at the page Morley had been -studying. "Phoebe, Mister, happens to be Saturn's NINTH moon. Get it? -You can count, can't you?" - -Morley flushed, and fumbled miserably for a reasonable excuse. There -was a gleam of contempt in Madsen's eyes, but he spoke again more -quietly. "I'm going to eat and catch up on some sack time. We'll be -right on top of Japetus in short order. It's a known fact that the moon -won't move over if you fly at it, so you better wake me up to handle -the compensating!" He disappeared into the tiny galley, but his words -were still audible. "It's an awful long walk back, chum, if anybody -pulls a bull." - -Morley swung himself into the pilot's seat, too numb with humiliation -to answer. Almost an hour passed before he started the regulation -checkup required by the Space Code of any ship passing within one -hundred thousand miles of a planet or major satellite. Every guardian -needle stood in its normal place with one exception. The craft had been -running on the port fuel tanks, depleting them to the point where it -seemed wise to trim ship. Morley opened the valve, touched the fuel -pump switch and waited, nothing happened. He watched the needles -incredulously. The pump--? He jabbed the switch, once, twice. Nothing. - -He leaned forward and rapped the starboard gauge with his knuckles, -sharply. The needle swung from Full to Empty. Morley felt faint as -realization hit him. The starboard gauge had stuck at Full, and had -been unreported. The tank had not been serviced in port, owing to -the faulty reading and a mechanic's carelessness. They had about two -hours fuel. Even to Morley, it was obvious that there was one thing -only to do--land on Japetus, looming up larger in the view-plate with -each passing moment. He checked the distance rapidly, punched the -calculator, and put the ship in the designated orbit. He wanted to -handle the landing himself, but the thought of the final few ticklish -moments chilled him. So did the thought of waking Madsen, and asking -him to take over. - -And it was then, at the intersection of two courses formed by an -infinity of variables, that two objects arrived in the same millisecond -of time. Eight ounces of nickel iron smashed into the stern of -Spaceboat 6, ripped a path of ruin through her entire length, and went -out through the two inch glass of her bow, before Morley could turn -his head. He was aware, in a strange dream-like way, of actuating -the midships airtight door, of the hiss of air as the little aneroid -automatically opened valves to compensate for the drop in pressure, and -of Madsen leaping into the control room and slapping a Johnson patch -over the hole in the bow. - -Madsen was white but composed. "We can slow her down but we can't land -her. Get suits while I take over. We'll ride as far as we can, and -walk the rest of the way." He fought with the controls, as Morley, -still bemused, obeyed. At twenty-five hundred feet they bailed out, -and floating down seconds later, watched Spaceboat 6 crash into a low -wooded hill. And when they landed, and inspected the wreckage, it was -some minutes before either spoke. - -It was obvious at a glance that Spaceboat 6 was ready for the boneyard, -had there been one around. The ship, under the few automatic controls -that were still functioning, had sliced in at a thirty degree angle, -ploughed a short distance through a growth of slim, poplar-like trees, -and then crumpled completely against an outcropping granite ledge. -Finally Morley gulped audibly, and Madsen laughed. - -"Well, Mastermind, any suggestions that might help us? Any little -pearls of wisdom from the great brain?" - -"Just one," Morley answered. "Head for the Equator, and--" - -"And try to find a D.D. Correct. If we last that long. Let's salvage -what we can out of this junk and shove off." - -Morley cleared his throat diffidently. "There are a few pieces of -equipment we should take along, for--er--emergencies--" His voice -trailed off miserably under Madsen's basilisk stare. - -"Listen, Morley, once and for all. We're lugging essentials and that's -all. Any extra weight is out." - -"But, listen--" - -Madsen ignored the interruption, and cut loose with one last broadside. -"Save your breath. It's bad enough being saddled with a useless little -squirt like you, without being made into a pack mule unnecessarily." - - - II - -He climbed into a gaping hole in the bow. Morley followed, humiliated -but still thinking hard. Catalogue it, he told himself. Remember -everything. The Distress Depots, or D.D.'s, as spacemen called them, -were studded on every frontier world, usually on the Equator. They -contained two small spacecraft plus ample supplies of food, medicine, -and tools. When wrecked, get to a D.D. and live. It was that simple. - -They spent an hour worming their way through the shambles that had -been the well ordered interior of Spaceboat 6, before emerging to take -stock of their loot on the ground outside. Both men knew that they -were pitifully equipped to cover several hundred miles, on foot, in -a completely hostile environment. Suddenly Madsen looked up from the -sextant he was examining. - -"How come this gravity, Brain? I weigh about a hundred right now, I -figure, and that's too much, by plenty. Japetus isn't a quarter the -size of our moon." - -"It's supposed to have a core of heavy radioactive metals," said -Morley, thoughtfully, "and a corresponding high density. Keeps it warm -anyway, instead of a big icicle, like Phoebe." - -"Phoebe!" Madsen laughed. "I remember, back in '89--" He stopped -abruptly at a rattling from the ledge. A green, little lizard-like -creature was scrambling frantically over the granite, while hot in -pursuit were three--spiders? Black, they were, a black like living -velvet, and incredibly fast as they closed in, beady stalked eyes -fastened on their prey. They were deliberately herding the desperate -lizard toward a cleft in the rock. As the creature leaped into the -opening, another spider dove at it from the recess. The others closed -in. There was a hopeless hissing, a vicious clicking of mandibles. The -struggle subsided. Once again the day was silent. Madsen holstered the -blaster he had drawn and looked whitely at Morley. - -"Pleasant pets," he grunted. - -"Poisonous and carnivorous, too," said Morley, shakingly. "I remember -reading that Valdez dissected one when he first landed here twenty -years ago. One of his crew was bitten, and died in less than five -minutes." - -Madsen was thoughtful. "We could stand a little briefing on the local -flora and fauna, but palaver won't get us to the Equator. And that -little stock treatise entitled 'Physical Attributes of Phoebe' is worse -than useless. Lucky the sextant is O.K., we can at least check our -latitude. There's just one flaw." - -"What's that?" - -"Which way do we go when we hit the line? The D.D.'s are spaced ninety -degrees apart. We might be within a hundred miles of one. If we head -the wrong way, we'd have three or four hundred miles to go. There's no -method of figuring our longitude." - -Morley was staring sunward, with thoughtful eyes. "Yes, there is," he -said quietly. - -Madsen's jaw dropped. "Give," he said. - -"We both forgot something we know perfectly well. Notice the sun? It -hasn't moved perceptibly since we landed. Japetus doesn't revolve on -its axis." - -"So what?" - -"Two things. One, no night, since we're on the sunward side. The sun -will move from side to side in the sky, reaching its lateral limits -when Japetus is in quadrature in regard to Saturn. If we were here for -a month, we'd see Saturn rise, make a full arc through the sky, and -set. Let's hope for a shorter stay." - -"Go on," said Madsen, and suddenly there was nothing patronizing or -scornful in his voice. - -"Two. We came in over the Pole almost exactly at inferior conjunction. -Right?" - -"I think I get it." Madsen answered slowly. - -For a moment Morley was silent. He could almost smell the dingy -classroom in Port Chicago, almost see the words on the examination -paper in front of him. The paragraph leaped out, limned sharply in his -mind. "Section 4, Subhead A, Solar Space Code. The initial Distress -Depot on any satellite shall be situated, when practical, on the -Prime Meridian. For the purposes of this act, the Prime Meridian of a -satellite shall be the meridian that bisects the Sun when the Satellite -is in inferior conjunction. Quarter mile belts shall be burned fifty -miles to the North, South, East, and West as guides. Radio beacons will -operate, unless impracticable due to atmospheric conditions, or other -reasons." - -"We're on, or practically on the Prime Meridian right now," said -Madsen. "A trek due South should hit D.D. No. 1 square on the nose. -Right?" - -"Right. Two or three hundred miles to go. We might make it in two -weeks." - -Madsen squinted at the stationary disk of Sol, hanging in the sky. -"Let's load up and get started. The sooner we're on our way, the -better." - -Both men had discarded their space suits, were dressed in the gray -work clothes of Satellites, Inc. Equipment was easily divided. Each -had a blaster, and a wrist compass-chronometer. Radio was useless on -Japetus, and the little headsets were ruthlessly jettisoned. The flat -tins of emergency food concentrate were stowed in two knapsacks. Madsen -took charge of the sextant, and Morley carried a lightweight repeating -rifle for possible game that might be out of blaster range. Canteens, -a pocket first-aid kit, and a small heliograph, were the final items, -except for several articles which Morley unobtrusively stowed away -about his person. - -Less than three hours after the crash, the two men shouldered their -burdens, took a bearing to determine their course, and headed into the -south. - - * * * * * - -In a matter of minutes Spaceboat 6 was out of sight. With Madsen -leading, they threaded their way through the scant undergrowth. -Underfoot the dry, broad-bladed grass rustled through a morning that -had no beginning or end. Farther away were other and less easily -explained rustlings, and once both men froze as a half-dozen of what -looked like baby dragons arrowed past within yards of them. - -"Formation flying, like ducks," muttered Morley, watching from the -corner of his eye. - -When the whispering of scaled wings had died away, the castaways -resumed their steady plodding into the south. Twice they crossed small -fresh water brooks, providing a welcome opportunity to drink their -fill, and replenish the canteens. The going was easy, since the footing -was in fairly dense soil, and the scrub was not so thick as to provide -any difficulties. After eight hours of nearly continuous travel, they -reached the banks of a third stream. Here Madsen stopped, and dropped -his knapsack to the ground. - -"Campsite," he grunted. - -"Alabama," Morley murmured. - -Madsen goggled. "Are you delirious? What do you mean--Alabama?" - -Morley laughed sheepishly. "Alabama means 'Here we rest,' I said it -without thinking." - -Madsen was grinning now. "What beats me is how you remember all that -junk. I'd go nuts if I tried to clutter up my mind with a bunch of -useless data. Alabama!" - -"I don't have to try to remember things," Morley said thoughtfully. "If -I read or hear something that seems the least bit curious or unusual, -it just sticks. And sometimes it's useful." - -"Such as?" - -"Well, remember when Storybook ran a mile last year in 1.29? He was -the first to break 1.30. Some joe that knew a lot about horses gave me -an argument in a bar about the first horse to break 1.40. He bet me -ten credits it was Man o' War. I knew it was Ten Broeck, and I got an -almanac and proved it." - -Madsen looked up from the tin of coffee concentrate he was opening. -"Hasn't anyone ever tried to win an argument by poking you one in the -snoot?" - -"Once or twice." Morley was almost apologetic. "But I learned judo a -few years ago, just for the hell of it, so I didn't get hurt much." - -"You're a whiz with the sabre, no doubt?" said Madsen dryly. - -"No, I tried swordplay for a while, but gave it up. It's a little too, -er--primitive for my tastes." - -"Primitive!" Madsen glanced around at the alien scene and nearly -choked. "I'm crossing my fingers, but what would you do if some -carnivore, or a gang of those spiders suddenly appeared and started for -us with evil intentions?" - -"I think I'd run," said Morley simply. "It was pretty dull at General -Plastic but at least the comptometers weren't man-eating." - -Madsen blinked, and seeming to find expression difficult, forbore to -answer. - -They ate, and relaxed on the soft sod, lulled almost into a feeling -of security. Not being foolhardy, however, they slept in six hour -shifts. Morley stood the first watch, and slept the second. When he -awoke, Madsen was tensely examining a ration tin. Jarred into instant -alertness by a feeling of urgency and alarm, Morley leaped to his feet. - -"Something wrong?" - -Without answering, Madsen handed him the tin. It was pockmarked with -inch wide patches of metallic gray fungus, from several of which liquid -was seeping. There was a sharp odor of decay. - -Madsen was hastily dumping the contents of the knapsacks on the ground. -Morley joined him, and both men commenced scraping the clinging gray -patches from the tins. All but three were perforated and ruined. - -"We'll at least be traveling light from now on," Madsen said. "Any idea -what this stuff is?" - -"Some of that lichen, or whatever it is, was around the scene of the -crash," Morley answered. "The stuff must have an affinity for tin; -probably secretes some acid that dissolves it. Only trouble is, it goes -through thin steel too." - -Madsen commenced repacking their effects. - -"From now on, laddie, keep your eyes peeled for game, and if you see -any, use that rifle. If we don't knock down some meat, and soon, we -aren't going to make it. Might as well realize it right now." - -"Were you ever wrecked before, Madsen?" - -"Once, on Venus. Cartographic expedition." - -"What happened?" - -"Tubes blew and we made a forced landing. Wound up sitting in the -middle of a pile of highgrade scrap." - -"What did you do then?" - -Madsen shouldered his knapsack and smiled condescendingly. - -"Not a thing, Mr. Fix-it. We didn't have to. Since I seem to have -accidentally stumbled on something new and strange to you, add this to -your files. It's usual on cartographic trips of any length, for one -ship to go out, while another stays at a temporary base, and keeps in -constant directional radio contact. If anything happens, they come -a-running. Makes it fine for us uninformed common people." - -"Oh." - -"Of course, this is somewhat different. If we don't get out by -ourselves, whoever finds us need only say, 'X marks the spot.'" - -Morley didn't bother answering. No comment was necessary. He knew as -well as Madsen that whatever margin of safety they possessed had been -shaved to the vanishing point. - - * * * * * - -They made twenty miles in a forced march, slept, ate, and then traveled -again. The stunted forest grew thinner, and occasionally they crossed -open spaces acres in extent. Twice they saw, in the distance, animals -resembling terrestrial deer, and on the second occasion Morley tried -a fruitless shot. They slept and ate again, and now the last of the -rations were gone. They went on. - -As they made southing, the dull sun crept higher in the sky by -infinitesimal degrees. Now the going became tougher. Patches of evil -looking muskeg began to appear in the scrub, and the stunted trees -themselves gradually gave way to six foot ferns. There were occasional -signs that some creature had been foraging on the lush growth. When -they found fresh tracks in the soft footing, Morley unlimbered the -rifle, and the two men trod more softly. By that time either would have -cheerfully made a meal on one of the miniature flying dragons, alive -and kicking, and the thought of a juicy steak from some local herbivore -was as soul stirring as the sight of Mecca to a true believer. - -Both men whirled at a sudden crashing on their left. Something like a -large splay footed kangaroo broke cover, and went loping away, clearing -the fern tops at every bound. In one motion Morley whipped up the -rifle and fired. There was an earsplitting report, the leaper kept -right on going, under forced draught, and the two castaways stared in -consternation at a rifle that resembled a bundle of metallic macaroni -more than it did a firearm. - -Madsen spoke first. "You probably got some mud in the barrel when we -stopped last time," he accused. "Look at us now." - -Morley started to mumble an apology, but Madsen cut him short. "Look at -us now," he repeated, with all stops out. "It was bad before, now it's -practically hopeless. Our only long range gun! What do we do now if we -do find game--dig pits for it?" - -If a man can be said to slink without changing his position, Morley -slunk. Madsen continued, double fortissimo. - -"A kid of ten knows enough to keep a gun clean, but you, Mr.--Mr. -Unabridged Webster in the flesh--" - -He stopped, temporarily out of breath. Morley regarded him abjectly, -and suddenly Madsen began to feel a little ashamed. After all, the -fellow had figured out that business about the meridian. - -"No use in having any post mortems," he said, with fine logic. "Throw -that junk away. It's that much less to carry, anyway." - -Two hours later, they plodded wearily through the last of the swamp -onto higher ground. The two haggard, muddied figures that threw -themselves on the dry soil to rest bore little resemblance to the men -who had parachuted from Spaceboat 6 seventy-two hours before. - -The slope on which they rested was tufted with small bushes. One -particular type with narrow dark green leaves bore clusters of fruit -like small plums, which Madsen eyed speculatively. - -"Do we risk it?" he asked. - -"Might as well." - -Morley was completely unaware that he had just accepted the -responsibility for making a decision. - -"We can't afford not to risk it," he said, adding, with little show of -enthusiasm, "I'll be the guinea pig." - -"Take it easy, chum," Madsen countered. "We'll match for it." - -They matched and Morley called it wrong. He plucked a sample of the -fruit and stood regarding it like some bewhiskered Little Jack Horner. -Finally he broke the thin skin with his thumbnail and gingerly conveyed -a couple of drops of juice to his tongue. The taste was simultaneously -oily and faintly sweet, and after a short wait he essayed a fair -sized bite. Madsen was about to follow suit, when Morley motioned him -to wait. The next second he was rolling on the ground, coughing and -choking, while Madsen tried grimly to feed him water from a canteen. - -It was no use. The throat tissues became swollen and inflamed in -seconds, to the point of agony, and swallowing was totally impossible. -To this was shortly added an overpowering nausea. When the retching -finally stopped, Morley tried to speak, but in vain. Even the effort -meant waves of pain. - -Madsen watched helplessly, and when the spasms of choking finally -stopped, spoke gently. - -"We'll be camping right here for a while, looks like. Try to get some -sleep if it slacks off any. You'll be okay in a while." - -His doubts were hidden, and Morley thanked him with his eyes. - - - III - -As the hours dragged on, Madsen sat quietly on guard, while the sick -man tossed in uneasy slumber. The eternal day was comfortably warm, and -eventually the watcher closed his eyes. Just for a moment, he thought -drowsily, just for a nap. Head pillowed on his arm, he slept. The -alien hillside was very quiet. He slept, dreaming of the long trip -home, of Port Chicago, of beer, and girls, and a fistfull of credits. - -When Madsen awoke, he knew instantly that something was out of key, -that some subtle change in the surroundings had triggered a warning -bell in his subconscious. Without any sudden move, he cast an all -inclusive glance over the surrounding terrain. Morley still slept, and -the scene seemed unchanged. But no! Wait! There on the fitful breeze -that had sprung up, that faint sweetish smell. He sniffed, facing -upwind. What the devil was it? Frowning, he stared toward the crest of -the hill. There was one tree, a few rods away, that seemed different -from the others. Larger, and the branches were whiplike, drooping. It -looked vaguely like a weeping willow on Earth. Madsen started toward -it, walking softly. As he drew nearer, the scent became stronger, and -now he recognized it. Carrion! It was coming from the tree, and he was -able to see the source. - -The corpses of two or three scaled green lizards, and one of the -lopers from the fern forest. The drooping limbs of the tree moved -undulantly in the breeze, almost as if they possessed an awareness of -his approach, and he noticed that they were armed with two inch thorns. -He was very close now. He took another step, and then, without warning, -every nerve and muscle seemed to twist and contract violently. Blacking -out between two breaths, he still realized what had happened. Once -before, on Ceres, he had experienced the paralyzing effect of a blaster -bolt from a weapon set at high aperture. - -An hour passed. Deep down in the blackness, in the solid dark, some -wisp of consciousness stirred and quickened. It quested, as the black -became gray. It flowered into life, Ego once again, suddenly aware of -the pale warm sunlight, and an intolerable aching. He looked up at -Morley and cursed. - -"Why did you do it?" - -"Had to." Morley's voice was a harsh whisper. "You'd have been a goner -in another step or two, and I couldn't yell. That tree's deadly." - -"So that's it." A pause. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you -know?" - -"Remembered it from a picture in Valdez' book, when I saw you walking -into that--thing! Watch this." - -He picked up a chunk of shale, and lobbed it into the tree. The -reaction was violent and immediate. The formerly quiescent limbs -whipped sinuously through the air, their thorny armament glinting in -the light. Madsen felt the back of his neck tingle at the hiss of their -passage. Dozens of black, hornet-like insects took wing, and buzzed -angrily and aimlessly around until the agitated motion subsided and the -tree sank slowly into its former somnolence. - -"How does it work?" asked Madsen. - -"The thorns, they're almost instantly lethal. Notice those wasps, or -whatever they are?" - -"Yeah." - -"Well, they live in those trees, and pollinate them. They lay eggs in -the game that the tree polishes off. When the larvae graduate and get -their wings, they make a brief nuptial flight, and set up housekeeping -in a similar tree. Other insects stay away. It's a beautiful case of -highly specialized symbiosis." - -"Funny, eh?" - -"Not very. You might say our position is similar, to a degree. How are -you feeling now?" - -"A lot better, except for the ache. Your throat seems to be coming -along all right, too." His eyes ranged the slope, estimating the -distance to their initial resting place. "Man alive, I was lucky to be -in range!" - -"You were at that, Madsen. There's just one chronic bug in energy -weapons, the old law of inverse squares. Short range tools, that's all." - -"You said it. Say, Morley--" - -"Yes?" - -"Doesn't a symbiotic relationship usually refer to some type of -parasitism? Sort of a put and take game, with one organism doing all -the putting, and the other, all the taking?" - -Can it be? thought Morley, incredulously. Honest gratitude was natural, -but the idea that Madsen's granite exterior might conceal a slowly -burgeoning respect--! - -"Not exactly," he said carefully. "Often there is a mutual dependence, -as with us. That's what I meant to say in the first place." - -"Thanks. I feel, well, pretty foolish about being so careless, and -holding us up. Not that I'd have gone on walking into that tree, mind -you. And I'd hate to have you think of me as a human--liana, or remora, -or something." - -"Don't be silly. We're partners, aren't we?" - -"Yeah, that's true. Morley, I--" - -"Well?" - -"Thanks, a lot." - -"Er--that's all right. Skip it." - - * * * * * - -The mesa stretched to the horizon on all sides, timeless and -forbidding, drowsing through the sunlit millennia. To a casual -celestial voyager, it would have appeared barren of life, except for -the two scarecrow figures which scrabbled in the sand in spots where -a stunted, ropy vine was growing. At intervals one or the other would -triumphantly dig out a baseball-sized melon like object, and wolf it -hungrily, the juice dribbling over his bearded chin. The trail they -had made was blurred in spots where they had fallen, light-headed with -weakness. The melons helped, though their caloric count would never -constitute a dietitian's dream of joy. They were food, of a sort, and -more important, water. Finally one of the figures scrambled to his -feet, and stared defiantly at the dim sun, higher now, but still far -from the zenith. - -"Let's get going," said Morley thickly. - -The two men shambled silently through the knee-high grass and -dwarf trees of the savannah. They didn't feel particularly hungry -anymore. There was only a vaguely irritating condition of lassitude, -and dizziness, and an annoying tendency of the knees to buckle -uncontrollably without the slightest warning. They plodded on, weaving -uncertainly from time to time. There was game here, creatures like -antelope, but they maddeningly stayed well out of blaster range. Madsen -had discarded everything but his pack, while Morley's weapon still -hung at his hip. With seemingly irrational stubbornness, he also clung -to the impedimenta he had picked up at the wreck, despite Madsen's -petulant remarks about excess weight. - -It seemed to Morley as if they had been traveling forever through -some grassy Gehenna. It grew harder and harder for him to think in -logical sequence. When he climbed painfully to his feet after a fall, -he had to fight back a sudden overwhelming urge to burst into babyish -tears. Madsen hardly ever fell down. It didn't seem fair, and he wished -bitterly that he were more like Madsen. Still he fought on without -knowing why. Another step, and another, and a thousand more, each one -an individual effort to which he forced his failing muscles. - -Another eternity or two passed, and suddenly Madsen staggered and sat -down in his tracks. He stared resentfully at his knapsack and then -peered up at Morley. - -"We've still got four of those melon things. If we eat them now, we -won't have to carry them. How about it?" he mumbled. - -Through Morley's weariness crept a doubt as to the validity of his -comrade's logic, but it seemed to be too difficult to analyze at the -moment. - -They ate the scanty meal in silence, and rested for an hour, half -comatose. Then, somewhat refreshed, Morley levered himself slowly -erect. He stirred Madsen with his toe. - -"Up and at 'em, chum." - -Madsen blinked at him and started to rise. He was on one knee, when -suddenly, he turned his head in a listening attitude. Morley had heard -the distant hum, too, and was standing stock still, an anxious frown on -his gaunt face. Madsen was on the verge of scrambling to his feet, when -Morley spoke. - -"Don't move." - -"What's the--?" - -"Shut up, for God's sake. Don't stir." He was trembling, his bony -features white as paper under their coating of grime. Madsen froze, -wordless. Sailing through the tall grass, straight toward them, came -one of the gray antelope-like creatures. It passed within twenty feet. -They could see the heaving flanks, the foam on its muzzle, the rolling, -terror stricken eyes. Close behind, and closing in rapidly, came the -origin of the hum. It was a host of tiny iridescent flying creatures, -no larger than bumblebees. They streaked by, green and crimson winged -gems, the hum rising to a vicious crescendo. - -The chase ended a hundred yards away. As the cloud struck, the antelope -screamed, a lone cry of agony and despair. It staggered once, tried -to leap forward, staggered again, was down. There was a threshing, a -violent movement of the grass, then silence. - - - IV - -A quarter of an hour passed before a rising hum announced the ending of -the feast. The component parts of the cloud took flight, coalesced into -a group, vanished into the distance. - -Madsen broke first, heading for the remains of the antelope, with -Morley close behind. The animal lay in a heap, drained of every drop of -blood, its punctured eyes staring sightlessly at the empty heavens. - -"Meat," babbled Madsen. "Chops, steak, liver, heart." - -"Shut up," Morley said curtly, "and start a fire." He bent to the -butchering. - -They ate, new life flooding into them. They were suddenly deeply -conscious of the incredible sensation of being fed, of resting with a -full stomach, of enjoying a reprieve that might be a pardon. - -Madsen stopped picking his teeth for a moment. - -"Did you know what those things were?" he asked. - -"Sure. Sangres, Valdez called them. Means bloody in Spanish. They're -blood drinkers. There's one thing, though, you're pretty safe if you -don't move. Those sweet little birds--and they are birds, as a matter -of fact--hunt by sight." - -Madsen was silent. Then he laughed, and turned to eye the remains of -the antelope fondly. - -"And to think we didn't even have to bleed it," he said. "When we get -back, you might recommend some books for me to read, if you feel like -doing a good turn." - -Morley was laughing, too. "It's a deal." - -When they resumed their trek, both knapsacks were loaded with meat, -cut into strips, and well smoked. The travelers were staggering no -longer, though once again they were traversing rising ground. An -eight-hour march brought them to the summit. At their feet the ground -fell away in a sharp slope, to level off a few miles in the distance, -and there, flowing from the west and swinging in a broad arc directly -into the south, was the silvery sheen of a river. It seemed like a -great question mark, its ends disappearing over the deceptively close -horizons of the little world. - -Madsen peered at the bright interrogative streak. - -"Pardon my ignorance, pal, but is that river really flowing south, or -am I dreaming?" - -"No, it's not a dream. We've been coming over a watershed evidently." - -"That should simplify matters. We get to the river, build a raft -somehow, if there's timber, and travel in luxury. Right?" - -"Right." - -A few hours of easy travel brought them to the bank. For some time -it had been evident that there would be ample material for a raft. -Now Morley looked at the foot-thick trunks around them, and said -thoughtfully, "We'll have to work downstream and look for windfalls or -something. We aren't equipped for lumberjack work." - -They had paralleled the stream for some time when suddenly Madsen -shouted in exultation. - -"Look!" - -They were standing at a point of land at a juncture of the river and -an evil looking backwater some twenty feet wide. It was bridged by one -fallen trunk, and on the other side were several more, where a falling -giant had brought down his neighbors in his collapse. - -Madsen hastily started across the trunk which bridged the slough, -ignoring Morley's admonition to take it easy. Halfway across, a rotten -piece of bark crumbled under his tread. He caught at the stub of a -limb, preventing a full length fall by a narrow margin, and wound up -standing in semi-liquid, knee deep mud. He had placed his hands on the -fallen trunk, preparatory to climbing back on it, when, with hardly a -warning ripple, something flipped from the muddy surface and clamped -around his wrist. Another slapped across his neck, and clung. - -Madsen tore at them in vain, waves of revulsion flooding him. The -things were inch-thick ribbons, a foot and a half long, and about -six inches wide, a mottled green in color. There was an unspeakable -repulsion about their touch, and they were coldly, clammily strong. Now -the surface of the slough was churning as the hideous swarm converged, -and Madsen felt his strength fading as a light dims when an electrician -turns a rheostat. He tried to keep fighting, but his muscles refused to -answer his will. Immobile, but fully conscious, with his insides a ball -of cold horror, he waited. - - * * * * * - -Meanwhile, Morley, on solid ground, was clawing the contents from his -knapsack, scattering jerky on all sides. - -The tableau on the bank was within Madsen's range of vision as he lay -half immersed in mud, with the stomach-turning horrors greedily glueing -themselves to his exposed hands and face. To the sick helplessness with -which he faced the end, was added a hopeless burning rage. What was -Morley doing? Planning to offer the things some dried meat? A handful -of near-leather for something that lusted and craved for hot blood? -What a way to cash in. A living buffet dinner for alien monstrosities, -while a white faced weak sister fumbled frantically, safely, in a -useless knapsack. A band of cold, hungry malignance fastened itself to -his forehead, just missing his left eye. - -Dully, he watched Morley come up with something like a small -flashlight, saw him thumb the switch, and commence crawling out on the -log to where Madsen lay half submerged. Once within range, he played -the invisible beam from the little device over Madsen's inert body. -The result was instantaneous. The giant leeches relaxed their grip and -disappeared under the mud with startling rapidity. Morley retched at a -glimpse of a sucker-lined underbelly. Then he hooked his weapon on his -belt and dragged Madsen to dry land. - -The victim's frantic eyes showed he was obviously conscious, though -unable to move or speak. Morley promptly launched into a reassuring -monologue. - -"Don't worry, you'll be O.K. in a few hours. Those things temporarily -short circuit the nervous energy of their prey in some manner. They -call them sanguisuga, means bloodsucker. They're sensitive only to -strong ultraviolet, like a lot of extra-terrestrial life." - -He removed the little projector from his belt. - -"That's why I've been lugging this airlock disinfector all the way. I -had a hunch it might come in handy. And look." - -He unbuttoned his shirt, exposing a length of thin cord coiled around -his waist. - -"I wasn't going to show you this, but now we can use it for lashings -for the raft we're going to build as soon as you're better." - -"Even a rope," said Madsen slowly. He articulated with difficulty, his -nerves tingling with returning life. - -Forty-eight hours later they were far to the South, floating down -the nameless river on their improvised raft. There was no feeling of -captain and crew, now. Just two men, fighting together. And winning. - -The sextant had long since been discarded, and both men were staring -at a rickety tripod, from which a button was suspended by a piece of -ravelled thread. The shadow it cast was a dark dot. Madsen spoke first. - -"You're quite a gadgeteer, aren't you. It's simple, at that. The closer -we are to the equator, the higher the sun, and the shorter the shadow. -Voila!" - -Morley laughed and stretched. The change in equilibrium set the little -pendulum to swinging gently, and he watched it intently as the motion -slowly ceased. - -"It's been that way for hours now. We should be nearly there." - -Madsen scanned the bank. "Any time now, any time." - -An hour later they saw it. A quarter mile lane burned through the trees -and shrubs, running straight as a string from the horizon to the river, -and continuing on the other side. They beached the raft, in case the -necessity arose to cross back, and trudged until they came to the first -mile marker. They were on the right side. The arrow pointed in the -direction they were going, and the enamelled sign said, simply, - - JAPETUS D.D. No. 1 - 12 m. - 19 km. - -After a pause, Madsen spoke. "We made it, thanks to what you knew about -Japetus. All those little things that added up." - -"Oh those," said Morley. "Just," he hesitated. "Just--odds and ends." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Morley's Weapon, by D. W. 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