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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..c7a3d5b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64181 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64181) diff --git a/old/64181-0.txt b/old/64181-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 022734d..0000000 --- a/old/64181-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1011 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Rocket Summer, by Ray Bradbury - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Rocket Summer - -Author: Ray Bradbury - -Release Date: December 30, 2020 [eBook #64181] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROCKET SUMMER *** - - - - - ROCKET SUMMER - - By RAY BRADBURY - - The first great rocket flight into space, bearing - intrepid pioneers to the Moon. The world's ecstasy - flared into red mob-hate when President Stanley - canceled the flight. How did he get that way? - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Spring 1947. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -The crowd gathered to make a curious noise this cold grey morning -before the scheduled Birth. They arrived in gleaming scarlet -tumble-bugs and yellow plastic beetles, yawning and singing and ready. -The Birth was a big thing for them. - -He stood alone up in his high office tower window, watching them with -a sad impatience in his grey eyes. His name was William Stanley, -president of the company that owned this building and all those other -work-hangars down on the tarmac, and all that landing field stretching -two miles off into the Jersey mists. William Stanley was thinking about -the Birth. - -The Birth of _what_? Stanley's large, finely sculptured head felt -heavier, older. Science, with a scalpel of intense flame would slash -wide the skulls of engineers, chemists, mechanics in a titanic -Caesarian, and out would come the Rocket! - -"Yezzir! Yezzir!" he heard the far-off, faint and raucous declarations -of the vendors and hawkers. "Buy ya Rocket Toys! Buy ya Rocket Games! -Rocket Pictures! Rocket soap! Rocket teethers for the tiny-tot! Rocket, -Rocket, Rocket! _Hey!_" - -Shutting the open glassite frame before him, his thin lips drew tight. -Morning after morning America sent her pilgrims to this shrine. They -peered in over the translucent restraint barrier as if the Rocket were -a caged beast. - -He saw one small girl drop her Rocket toy. It shattered, and was folded -under by the moving crowd's feet. - -"Mr. Stanley?" - -"Uh? Oh, Captain Greenwald. Sorry. Forgot you were here." Stanley -measured his slow, thoughtful steps to his clean-topped desk. -"Captain," he sighed wearily, "you're looking at the unhappiest man -alive." He looked at Greenwald across the desk. "That Rocket is the -gift of a too-generous science to a civilization of adult-children -who've fiddled with dynamite ever since Nobel invented it. They--" - -He got no further. The office door burst inward. A tall, work-grimed -man strode swiftly in--all oil, all heat, all sunburnt, wrinkled -leather skin. Rocket flame burnt in his dark, glaring eyes. He stopped -short at Stanley's desk, breathing heavily, leaning against it. - -Stanley noticed the wrench in the man's fist. "Hello, Simpson." - -Simpson swore bitterly. "What's all this guff about you stopping the -Rocket tomorrow?" he demanded. - -Stanley nodded. "This isn't a good time for it to go up." - -Simpson snorted. "This isn't a good time," he mimicked. Then he -swore again. "By George, it's like telling a woman her baby's been -still-born!" - -"I know it's hard to understand--" - -"Hard, _hell_!" shouted the man. "I'm Head Mechanic! I've worked two -years! The others have worked, too! And the Rocket'll travel tomorrow -or we'll know why!" - -Stanley crushed out his cigar, inside his fist. The room swayed -imperceptibly in his vision. Sometimes, one wanted to use a gun--he -shook away the thought. He kept his tongue. - -Simpson raged on. "Mr. Stanley, you have until three this afternoon to -change your mind. We'll pull strings and you'll be out of your job by -the week-end! If not--" and he said the next words very slowly, "how -would your wife look with her head bashed in, _Mister_ Stanley?" - -"You can't threaten me!" - -The door slammed in Stanley's face. Simpson was gone. - - * * * * * - -Captain Greenwald put out a manicured hand. On one slender finger shone -a diamond ring. His wrist was circled by an expensive watch. His shiny -brown eyes were invisibly cupped by contact lenses. Greenwald was past -fifty inside; outside he seemed barely thirty. "I advise you to forget -it, Stanley. Man's waited a million years for tomorrow." - -Stanley's hand shook, lighting a cigarette. "Look here, Captain, where -_are_ you going?" - -"To the stars, of course." - -Stanley snapped out the alcohol match. "In the name of heaven, stop the -melodrama and inferior semantics. What kind of thing is this you're -handing the people? What'll it do to races, morals, men and women?" - -Greenwald laughed. "I'm only interested in reaching the Moon. Then I'll -come back to earth, and retire, happily, and die." - -Stanley stood there, tall and very grey. "Does the effect of the -introduction of the crossbow to English and French history interest -you?" - -"Can't say I know much about it." - -"Do you recall what gunpowder's invention did to civilization?" - -"That's irrelevant!" - -"You must admit if there'd been some subjective planning with the -auto and airplane, millions of lives would've been saved, and many -wars prevented. An ethical code should've been written for all such -inventions and strictly observed, or else the invention forfeited." - -Greenwald shook his head, grinning. "I'll let you handle that half of -it. I'll do the traveling. I'm willing to abide by any such rules, if -you'll draw them up and enforce them. All I want is to reach the Moon -first. I've got to get downstairs now. We're still loading the ship, -you know, in spite of your decree. We expect to get around you somehow. -I'm sympathetic, of course, to your beliefs. I'll do anything you say -except ground the Rocket. I won't get violent, but I can't vouch for -Simpson. He's a tough man, with strong notions." - -They walked from the office to the dropper. Compression slid them down -to ground level, where they stepped out, Stanley still re-emphasizing -his beliefs. "--for centuries science has given humanity play-toys, -ships, machines, guns, cars, and now a Rocket, all with supreme -disregard for man's needs." - -"Science," announced Greenwald as they emerged onto the tarmac, "has -produced, via private enterprise, greater amounts of goods than ever in -history! Why, consider the medical developments!" - -"Yes," said Stanley doggedly, "we cure man's cancer and preserve his -greed in a special serum. They used to say 'Starve a cold, stuff a -fever.' Today's fever is materialism. All the things science has -produced only touch the _Body_. When Science invents something to touch -the Mind, I'll give it its due. No. - -"You cloak your voyage with romantic terminology. Outward to the stars! -you cry! Words! What's the _fact_? Why, _why_ this rocket? Greater -production? We have _that_! Adventure? Poor excuse to uproot Earth. -Exploration? It _could_ wait a few years. Lebensraum? Hardly. _Why_, -then, Captain?" - -"Eh?" murmured Greenwald distractedly. "Ah. Here's the Rocket, now." - -They walked in the incredible Rocket shadow. Stanley looked at the -crowd beyond the barrier. "_Look_ at them. Their sex still a mixture -of Victorian voodoo and clabbered Freud. With education needing -reorientation, with wars threatening, with religion and philosophy -confused, you want to jump off into space!" - -Stanley shook his head. "Oh, I don't doubt your sincerity, Captain. I -just say your timing's poor. If we give them a Rocket toy to play with, -do you honestly think they'll solve war, education, unity, thought? -Why, they'd propel themselves away from it so quickly your head'd swim! -Wars would be fought between worlds. But if we want more wars, let's -have them _here_, where we can get at their sources, before we leap to -the asteroids seeking our lost pride of race. - -"What little unity we _do_ have would be broken by countries and -individuals clamoring and cut-throating for planets and satellites!" - -Pausing, Stanley saw the mechanics standing in the Rocket shadow, -hating him. Outside the barrier, the crowd recognized him; their murmur -grew to a roar of disapproval. - -Greenwald indicated them. "They're wondering why you waited so long -before deciding to stop the Rocket." - -"Tell them I thought there'd be laws controlling it. Tell them the -corporations played along, smiling and bobbing to me, until the Rocket -was completed. Then they threw off their false faces and withdrew the -legislation only this morning. Tell them that, Captain. And tell them -the legislation I planned would've meant a slow, intelligent Rocket -expansion over an era of three centuries. Then ask them if they think -any business man could wait even five _minutes_." - -Captain Greenwald scowled. "All I want to do is prove it can be done. -After I come back down, if I can help in any way to control the Rocket, -I'm your man, Stanley. After I _prove_ it's possible, I don't care what -in hell happens...." - -Stanley slid into his 'copter, waved morosely at the captain. The crowd -shouted, waved its fists at him over the barrier. He sat watching their -distorted, sullen faces. They detested him. The Rocket balloon man, the -Rocket soap man, the tourists detested him. - -What was more, when his son Tommy found out, Tommy would hate him, too. - - * * * * * - -He took his time, heading home. He let the green hills slide under. -He set the automatic pilot and sank back into the sponge-softness, -suspended in a humming, blissful dream. Music played. Cigarettes and -whiskey were in reach if he desired them. Soft music. He could lapse -back into the dreaming tide, dissolve worry, smoke, drink, chortle, -luxuriously, sleep, forget, pull a shell of synthetic, hypnotizing -objects in about himself. - -And wake ten years from today with his wife disintegrating swiftly in -his arms. And one day see his son's skull shattered against a plastic -wall. - -And his own heart whirled and burst by some vast atom power of a -starship passing Earth far out in space! - -He dumped the whiskey over the side, followed it with the cigarettes. -Finally, he clicked off the soft music. - -There was his home. His eyes kindled. It lay out upon a green meadow, -far from the villages and towns, salt-white and surrounded by tapered -sycamores. As he watched, lowering his 'copter, he saw the blonde -streak across the lawn; that was his daughter, Alyce. Somewhere else on -the premises his son gamboled. Neither of them feared the dark. - -Angrily, Stanley poured on full speed. The landscape jerked and -vanished behind him. He wanted to be alone. He couldn't face them, yet. -Speed was the answer. Wind whistled, roared, rushed by the hurtling -'copter. He rammed it on. Color rose in his cheeks. - -There was music in the garden as he parked his 'copter in the fine blue -plastic garage. Oh, beautiful garage, he thought, you contribute to my -peacefulness. Oh, wonderful garage, in moments of torment, I think of -you, and I am glad I own you. - -Like hell. - -In the kitchen, Althea was whipping food with mechanisms. Her mother -sat with one withered ear to the latest audio drama. They glanced up, -pleased. - -"Darling, so early!" she cried, kissing him. "How's the Rocket?" piped -mother-in-law. "My, I bet you're proud!" - -Stanley said nothing. - -"Just imagine." The old woman's eyes glowed like little bulbs. "Soon -we'll breakfast in New York and supper on Mars!" - -Stanley watched her for a long moment, then turned hopefully to Althea. -"What do _you_ think?" - -She sensed a trap. "Well, it would be different, wouldn't it, -vacationing our summers on Venus, winters on Mars--wouldn't it?" - -"Oh, good Lord," he groaned. He shut his eyes and pounded the table, -softly. "Good Lord." - -"_Now_, what's wrong. What did _I_ say?" demanded Althea, bewildered. - -He told them about his order preventing the flight. - -Althea stared at him. Mother reached and snapped off the audio. "_What_ -did you say, young man?" - -He repeated it. - -Into the waiting silence came a distant "psssheeew!" rushing in from -the dining room, flinging the kitchen door wide, his son ran in, waving -a bright red Rocket in one grimy fist. "Psssheeew! I'm a Rocket! -Gangway! Hi, Dad!" He swung the ship in a quick arc. "Gonna be a pilot -when I'm sixteen! Hey." He stopped. "What's everybody standing around -for?" He looked at Grandma. "Grammy?" He looked at his mother. "Mom?" -And finally at his father. "Dad...?" His hands sank slowly. He read the -look in his father's eyes. "Oh, gosh." - - * * * * * - -By three o'clock that afternoon, he had showered and dressed in clean -clothes. The house was very silent. Althea came and sat down in the -living room and looked at him with hurt, stricken eyes. - -He thought of quoting a few figures at her. Five million people killed -in auto accidents since the year 1920. Fifty thousand people killed -every year, _now_, in 'copters and jet-planes. But it wasn't in the -figures, it was in a feeling he had to make her _feel_. Maybe he could -illustrate it to her. He picked up the hand-audio, dialed a number. -"Hello, Smitty?" - -The voice on the other end said, clearly, "Oh, Mr. Stanley?" - -"Smitty, you're a good average man, a pleasant neighbor, a fine farmer. -I'd like your opinion. Smitty, if you knew a war was coming, would you -help prevent it?" - -Althea was watching and listening. - -Smitty said, "Hell, yes. Sure." - -"Thanks, Smitty. One more thing. What's your opinion of the Rocket?" - -"Greatest thing in history. Say, I heard you were going to--" - -Stanley did not want to get involved. He hurriedly excused himself and -hung up. He looked directly at his wife. "Did you notice the separation -of means from end? Smitty thinks two things. He thinks he can prevent -war; that's one. He thinks the Rocket is a great thing; that's number -two. But they don't match, unfortunately. - -"The Rocket isn't a means to happiness the way it'll be used. It's the -wrong means. And with a wrong means you invariably wind up with a -wrong end. A criminal seeks wealth. Does he get it? Temporarily. In the -end, he suffers. All because he took the wrong _means_." Stanley held -his hands out, uselessly. "How can I make you understand." - -Tears were in her eyes. "I understand _nothing_, and don't need to -understand! Your job, they'll take it away from you and fly the Rocket -anyway!" - -"I'll work on the legislation again, then!" - -"And perhaps be killed? No, please, Will." - -Killed. He looked at his watch. Exactly three. - -He answered the audio when it buzzed. "Stanley talking." - -"Stanley, this is Cross, at Cal-Tech." - -"Cross! Good Lord, it's good to hear you!" - -"I just heard the new-flash," said Cross. He had the same clipped, -exact voice he'd had years ago, Stanley realized. "You're really on -the spot this time, aren't you, Will? That's why I called. I like your -ideas on machinery. I've always thought of machines, myself, as nothing -but extensions of man's frustrations and emotions, his losses and -compensations in life. We agree. But you're wrong this time, Will. You -made a mistake today." - -"Now, don't _you_ start on me! You're my last friend," retorted Stanley -tiredly. "What else could I do--destroy the rocket?" - -"That would be negative. No good. Give them something positive. Tell -them to go ahead," advised Cross, pleasantly enough. "Warn them, like -a kindly father, of the consequences. Then, when their fingers are -burnt--" - -"Humanity might go down the drain," finished Stanley abruptly. - -"Not if you play your cards right, control the variables. There must -be some way around them without getting yourself mangled. I'm ready to -help when you have a plan. Think it over." - -"I still think blowing the damn thing up would be--" - -"They'd build a bigger one. And they'd persecute you and your family -the rest of your life," explained Cross logically. "You and I may know -that science hasn't contributed one whit to man's _mental_ progress, -but Mr. Everyman likes his babies diapered in disposable tissues and -likes to travel from Siberia to Johnstown like an infuriated bullet. -You can't stop them, you can only divert them a bit." - -Stanley grasped the hand-audio, tightly. He listened. - - * * * * * - -A great roar of 'copters sounded out in the afternoon sky, directly -overhead. The house shook. Althea sprang up lithely and ran to look -out. "I can't talk any more, Cross. I'll call you back. _They're_ -outside, waiting for me, now...." - -Cross' voice faded like a dream. "Remember what I tell you. Let them go -ahead." - -Stanley walked to the door, opened it, stepped half through. - -A radio voice boomed out of the bright blue sky. - -"STANLEY!" it shouted. It was Simpson's voice. "STANLEY! COME OUT AND -TALK! COME OUT AND TELL US, STANLEY! STANLEY!" - -Althea would not stay in. She walked with him out onto the moist green -lawn, in the open. - -The heavens were flooded with 'copters whirling. The sun shook in its -place. 'Copters hung everywhere, like huge hummingbirds, swiveling, -whirring. Five hundred of them, at least, shadowing the lawns and -shaking the house-tops. - -"OH, _THERE_ YOUR ARE, STANLEY!" - -Stanley shaded his eyes. His lips drew away from his teeth in a -grimace, as he stared upward, tense and afraid. - -"IT'S AFTER THREE O'CLOCK, STANLEY!" came the dull boom of words. - -In this moment, with the spiraling 'copters suspended over his lawn, -over his wife and children and house, over himself and his beliefs, -Stanley swallowed, stepped back, put his hands down and let the idea -grow within him. Yes, he would give them their rocket. He would give -it to them. You cannot fight the children, he thought. They must have -their green apples. If you refuse them, they will find a way around -you. Go along with their illogical tide and make logic of it. Let the -children eat their full of green apples, many, many green apples to -swell their vast stomach into sickness. Yes. A slow smile touched the -corners of his mouth, vanished. The plan was complete. - -The voice from the sky fell on him like an iron fist! "STANLEY! WHAT -IS YOUR WORD NOW? HOW WILL YOU SPEAK NOW? WITH A THOUSAND POUNDS OF -NITROGLYCERINE OVER YOUR HOME, HOW WILL YOU TALK?" - -The 'copters sank, malignantly. Thunder swept the lawn. Althea's -brilliant amber skirt flared in the wash of it. - -"WILL THE ROCKET FLY, STANLEY?" - -From the corners of his aching, straining eyes, Stanley saw his son -poised in the window, watching him. - -"RAISE YOUR RIGHT HAND AND WAVE IT," thundered the sky-voice. "IF THE -ANSWER IS YES!" - -Stanley made them wait for it. He wetted his lips with a slow tongue, -then, gradually, very casually, he raised his right hand, palm up, and -waved it to the thundering sky. - -A torrent of exultation poured in a Niagara from the heavens. Five -hundred audios blasted, cheered, exulted! The trees ripped and tore in -the cyclone of energy and explosion! The noise continued as Stanley -turned, took Althea's elbow, and steered her blindly back to the door. - - * * * * * - -The little black-jet-plane dropped out of the midnight stars. Moments -later, Cross was getting out of it, crossing the dark lawn, grasping -Stanley's hand warmly. "Made good time, eh?" - -Inside, they downed their glasses of brandy first, then got to -business. Stanley outlined his plan, his contacts, his psychology. He -was pleased and excited to see an extraordinary smile of approval come -to Cross's pink, round face. "Excellent! Now you're talking!" cried -Cross. - -"I like your plan, Stanley. It places the blame right back on the -people. They won't be able to persecute you." - -Stanley refilled the glasses. "I'll see to it you're on the Rocket -tomorrow. Greenwald--he's the captain--will co-operate, I'm certain, -when the trip is over. It's up to you and Greenwald then." - -They raised their glasses. "And when it's all over," observed Cross -slowly. "We'll have the long, hard struggle to revise our educational -system. To begin to apply the scientific method to man's thinking, -instead of just to his machines. And when we've built a logical -subjective world, then it'll be safe to make machines of all and any -kinds. Here's to our plan, may it be completed." They drank. - -The next day two million people spread over the rolling hills, through -the tiny Jersey towns, sitting atop bugs and plastic beetles. An -excitement pervaded the day. The sky was a blue vacuum, the 'copters -grounded by law. The Rocket lay gleaming and monstrous and silent. - -At noon, the crew ambled across the tarmac, Captain Greenwald leading. -Cross walked among them. The huge metal doors slammed, and with a blast -of Gargantuan flame, the Rocket heaved upward and vanished. - -People cheered and laughed and cried. - -Stanley watched his son and daughter and mother-in-law do likewise. He -was deeply pleased to see that Althea did not join them. Hand in hand -they watched the sky dazzlement fade. The first Rocket to the moon was -gone. The world was drunkenly happy in its delirium. - -Two weeks passed slowly. Astronomers were unable to keep an eye on the -Rocket. It was so small and unaccountable in the void between earth and -lunar surface. - -Stanley slept little in the passing of the fourteen days. He was -constantly attacked by fears and confusions of thought. He dreamed of -the Rocket going up. He had seen men month on month walking in the -metal shadow of their wonderful Rocket, patting it with their greasy, -calloused hands, loving it with their quick, appreciative eyes. - -If for one moment you let yourself think of it, you loved it, too, for -even though it symbolized wars and destruction, you had to admire its -balance and slenderness of structure. With it, you could rub away the -fog cosmetic of Venus, re-delineate its prehistorically shy face. And -there was Mars, too. Man had been imprisoned a million years. Why not -freedom now, at last? - -Then he labeled all these fantasies by their correct name, ESCAPE, and -settled back, to wait the return of the Rocket. - - * * * * * - -"The moon Rocket is returning! It will land this morning at nine -o'clock!" Everybody's audio was blatting. - -Like a yellow seed, the Rocket dropped down the sky, to sprout roots of -flame on which to cushion itself. It fried the tarmac and a vast deluge -of warm air rushed across the country for miles. People sweltered -amidst a sudden rocket summer. - -In his tower room, William Stanley watched, solemn and wordless. - -The Rocket shimmered. Across the cooling tarmac, the crowd rioted, -bursting through the barrier, sweeping the police aside in elation. - -The tide halted and boiled and changed form, layer upon layer. A vast -hush came upon it. - -Now the round air-lock door of the Rocket jetted out air in a -compressed sigh. - -The thick door, sandwiched into the ship-hull, took two minutes to -come outward and pull aside on its oiled hingework. The crowd pressed -closer, flesh to flesh, eyes widened. The door was now open completely. -A great cheer went up. The crew of the Moon Rocket stood in the -air-lock. The cheer faded, almost instantly. - -[Illustration: _The crew of the Moon Rocket stood in the air-lock._] - -The crew of the Rocket were not exactly standing. They were hunched -over. - -The captain stepped forward. Well, he didn't exactly _step_. He sort of -dragged his feet and shambled. He made a speech. - -But all it sounded like, coming from his twisted, swollen lips, was, -"Uns--rrrr--oh--god--disss--ease--unh--rrr--nnn--" - -He held out his grey-green fingers, raw, bleeding, for all to see. -He lifted his face. Those red things, were they actually eyes? That -depression, that fallen socket, had it been a nose? And where were the -teeth in that gagging, hissing mouth? His hair was thin and grey and -infected. He stank. - -The hypnotic silence was shattered. The first line of people turned and -clawed at the second line. The second turned instinctively to claw the -third, and so on. The television cameras caught it all. - -Screams, yelling, shouting. Many fell and were trampled, crushed -under. The captain and his crew came out, gesturing, calling them to -come back. But who would heed their rotting movements? The ridiculous -souvenir seekers trampled each other, ripping the clothes from one -another's backs! - -_A souvenir? A scab of crawling flesh, a drop of yellow fluid from -their gaping wounds? Souvenirs for earth, buy them right here, get them -while they last! We mail anywhere in the United States!_ - -_The characters in order of appearance: The Captain, the astrogator, -held sagging between two astronomers, who were followed by sixteen -mathematicians, technicians, chemists, biologists, radio men, -geographers and machinists. Shamble forth, gentlemen, and bring the -brave new future with you!_ - -The balloon vendor, in flight, jettisoned his entire stock. Rubber -rockets floated wildly, crazily bobbling, bouncing the river of rioting -heads until they were devoured, exploded and crumpled underfoot. - -Sirens sounded. Police beetles rushed to the field exits. Ten minutes -later the tarmac was empty. No sign of captain or crew. A few shreds -of their fetid clothing were found, partially disintegrated. An -audio-report five minutes later stated simply, "The captain and crew -were destroyed on orders of the health bureau! An epidemic was feared--" - -The sounds of riot faded. The door to Stanley's office opened, someone -entered and stood behind him, and closed the door. - - * * * * * - -Stanley did not turn from the window for a moment. "Fifty people -injured, five of them critically. I'm sorry for that. But it was a -small price for the world's security." He turned, slowly. - -A horrible creature stood, diseased and swollen, before him. A -captain's uniform, filthy and torn, hung tattered from the disgusting -flesh. The creature opened its bleeding mouth. - -"How was it?" asked the creature, muffledly. - -"Fine," said Stanley. "Did you reach the moon?" - -"Yes," replied the creature. "Captain Greenwald sends his regards to -you. He says he knows we can do it again and again, any time we want, -now, and that's all he wanted to know. He wishes you luck and tells you -to go ahead. We landed the rocket on the way back from the moon, first -of all, up at Fairbanks, Alaska, outside the settlement, naturally, -during the night. Things worked as you planned them. We changed -crews there. There was a minor fight. Simpson and the original crew, -including Captain Greenwald, are still up there, under psycho-hypnosis. -They'll live out their lives happily, unaware, with new names. They -won't remember anything. We took off from Fairbanks again this morning -with the new crew and our act all rehearsed, I think we did all right." - -"Where's the substitute crew now?" inquired Stanley. - -"Downstairs," said the creature. "Getting psychoed themselves. Getting -mental blocs inserted, so they'll forget they ever fooled the world -today. Then we'll send them back to their regular jobs. Can I use your -shower?" - -Stanley pressed a button, a panel slid aside. "Go ahead." - -The creature pulled its face around the edges until it shed off into -its hands, a green-grey pallid mask of plastic rubber. The sweating -pink face of Cross appeared. He wriggled his fingers next, until the -green-gray, chemically bleeding horror gloves sucked off. He tossed -these into a wall-incinerator. "The day of the Rocket is over," he -said, quietly. "They'll be putting your bill up before the World -Legislature tomorrow, or I miss my guess. Carefulness, thought and -intellect will now get a start. Humanity is saved from itself." - -Stanley watched Cross walk into the shower-cube, peel, and switch on -the spray. - -He turned to the window again. Two billion people were thinking -tonight. He knew what they were thinking. Outside, he heard the -explosion as the health department blew up the great Rocket. - -That was all. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Rocket Summer</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ray Bradbury</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 30, 2020 [eBook #64181]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROCKET SUMMER ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>ROCKET SUMMER</h1> - -<h2>By RAY BRADBURY</h2> - -<p>The first great rocket flight into space, bearing<br /> -intrepid pioneers to the Moon. The world's ecstasy<br /> -flared into red mob-hate when President Stanley<br /> -canceled the flight. How did he get that way?</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Spring 1947.<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>The crowd gathered to make a curious noise this cold grey morning -before the scheduled Birth. They arrived in gleaming scarlet -tumble-bugs and yellow plastic beetles, yawning and singing and ready. -The Birth was a big thing for them.</p> - -<p>He stood alone up in his high office tower window, watching them with -a sad impatience in his grey eyes. His name was William Stanley, -president of the company that owned this building and all those other -work-hangars down on the tarmac, and all that landing field stretching -two miles off into the Jersey mists. William Stanley was thinking about -the Birth.</p> - -<p>The Birth of <i>what</i>? Stanley's large, finely sculptured head felt -heavier, older. Science, with a scalpel of intense flame would slash -wide the skulls of engineers, chemists, mechanics in a titanic -Caesarian, and out would come the Rocket!</p> - -<p>"Yezzir! Yezzir!" he heard the far-off, faint and raucous declarations -of the vendors and hawkers. "Buy ya Rocket Toys! Buy ya Rocket Games! -Rocket Pictures! Rocket soap! Rocket teethers for the tiny-tot! Rocket, -Rocket, Rocket! <i>Hey!</i>"</p> - -<p>Shutting the open glassite frame before him, his thin lips drew tight. -Morning after morning America sent her pilgrims to this shrine. They -peered in over the translucent restraint barrier as if the Rocket were -a caged beast.</p> - -<p>He saw one small girl drop her Rocket toy. It shattered, and was folded -under by the moving crowd's feet.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Stanley?"</p> - -<p>"Uh? Oh, Captain Greenwald. Sorry. Forgot you were here." Stanley -measured his slow, thoughtful steps to his clean-topped desk. -"Captain," he sighed wearily, "you're looking at the unhappiest man -alive." He looked at Greenwald across the desk. "That Rocket is the -gift of a too-generous science to a civilization of adult-children -who've fiddled with dynamite ever since Nobel invented it. They—"</p> - -<p>He got no further. The office door burst inward. A tall, work-grimed -man strode swiftly in—all oil, all heat, all sunburnt, wrinkled -leather skin. Rocket flame burnt in his dark, glaring eyes. He stopped -short at Stanley's desk, breathing heavily, leaning against it.</p> - -<p>Stanley noticed the wrench in the man's fist. "Hello, Simpson."</p> - -<p>Simpson swore bitterly. "What's all this guff about you stopping the -Rocket tomorrow?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>Stanley nodded. "This isn't a good time for it to go up."</p> - -<p>Simpson snorted. "This isn't a good time," he mimicked. Then he -swore again. "By George, it's like telling a woman her baby's been -still-born!"</p> - -<p>"I know it's hard to understand—"</p> - -<p>"Hard, <i>hell</i>!" shouted the man. "I'm Head Mechanic! I've worked two -years! The others have worked, too! And the Rocket'll travel tomorrow -or we'll know why!"</p> - -<p>Stanley crushed out his cigar, inside his fist. The room swayed -imperceptibly in his vision. Sometimes, one wanted to use a gun—he -shook away the thought. He kept his tongue.</p> - -<p>Simpson raged on. "Mr. Stanley, you have until three this afternoon to -change your mind. We'll pull strings and you'll be out of your job by -the week-end! If not—" and he said the next words very slowly, "how -would your wife look with her head bashed in, <i>Mister</i> Stanley?"</p> - -<p>"You can't threaten me!"</p> - -<p>The door slammed in Stanley's face. Simpson was gone.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Captain Greenwald put out a manicured hand. On one slender finger shone -a diamond ring. His wrist was circled by an expensive watch. His shiny -brown eyes were invisibly cupped by contact lenses. Greenwald was past -fifty inside; outside he seemed barely thirty. "I advise you to forget -it, Stanley. Man's waited a million years for tomorrow."</p> - -<p>Stanley's hand shook, lighting a cigarette. "Look here, Captain, where -<i>are</i> you going?"</p> - -<p>"To the stars, of course."</p> - -<p>Stanley snapped out the alcohol match. "In the name of heaven, stop the -melodrama and inferior semantics. What kind of thing is this you're -handing the people? What'll it do to races, morals, men and women?"</p> - -<p>Greenwald laughed. "I'm only interested in reaching the Moon. Then I'll -come back to earth, and retire, happily, and die."</p> - -<p>Stanley stood there, tall and very grey. "Does the effect of the -introduction of the crossbow to English and French history interest -you?"</p> - -<p>"Can't say I know much about it."</p> - -<p>"Do you recall what gunpowder's invention did to civilization?"</p> - -<p>"That's irrelevant!"</p> - -<p>"You must admit if there'd been some subjective planning with the -auto and airplane, millions of lives would've been saved, and many -wars prevented. An ethical code should've been written for all such -inventions and strictly observed, or else the invention forfeited."</p> - -<p>Greenwald shook his head, grinning. "I'll let you handle that half of -it. I'll do the traveling. I'm willing to abide by any such rules, if -you'll draw them up and enforce them. All I want is to reach the Moon -first. I've got to get downstairs now. We're still loading the ship, -you know, in spite of your decree. We expect to get around you somehow. -I'm sympathetic, of course, to your beliefs. I'll do anything you say -except ground the Rocket. I won't get violent, but I can't vouch for -Simpson. He's a tough man, with strong notions."</p> - -<p>They walked from the office to the dropper. Compression slid them down -to ground level, where they stepped out, Stanley still re-emphasizing -his beliefs. "—for centuries science has given humanity play-toys, -ships, machines, guns, cars, and now a Rocket, all with supreme -disregard for man's needs."</p> - -<p>"Science," announced Greenwald as they emerged onto the tarmac, "has -produced, via private enterprise, greater amounts of goods than ever in -history! Why, consider the medical developments!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Stanley doggedly, "we cure man's cancer and preserve his -greed in a special serum. They used to say 'Starve a cold, stuff a -fever.' Today's fever is materialism. All the things science has -produced only touch the <i>Body</i>. When Science invents something to touch -the Mind, I'll give it its due. No.</p> - -<p>"You cloak your voyage with romantic terminology. Outward to the stars! -you cry! Words! What's the <i>fact</i>? Why, <i>why</i> this rocket? Greater -production? We have <i>that</i>! Adventure? Poor excuse to uproot Earth. -Exploration? It <i>could</i> wait a few years. Lebensraum? Hardly. <i>Why</i>, -then, Captain?"</p> - -<p>"Eh?" murmured Greenwald distractedly. "Ah. Here's the Rocket, now."</p> - -<p>They walked in the incredible Rocket shadow. Stanley looked at the -crowd beyond the barrier. "<i>Look</i> at them. Their sex still a mixture -of Victorian voodoo and clabbered Freud. With education needing -reorientation, with wars threatening, with religion and philosophy -confused, you want to jump off into space!"</p> - -<p>Stanley shook his head. "Oh, I don't doubt your sincerity, Captain. I -just say your timing's poor. If we give them a Rocket toy to play with, -do you honestly think they'll solve war, education, unity, thought? -Why, they'd propel themselves away from it so quickly your head'd swim! -Wars would be fought between worlds. But if we want more wars, let's -have them <i>here</i>, where we can get at their sources, before we leap to -the asteroids seeking our lost pride of race.</p> - -<p>"What little unity we <i>do</i> have would be broken by countries and -individuals clamoring and cut-throating for planets and satellites!"</p> - -<p>Pausing, Stanley saw the mechanics standing in the Rocket shadow, -hating him. Outside the barrier, the crowd recognized him; their murmur -grew to a roar of disapproval.</p> - -<p>Greenwald indicated them. "They're wondering why you waited so long -before deciding to stop the Rocket."</p> - -<p>"Tell them I thought there'd be laws controlling it. Tell them the -corporations played along, smiling and bobbing to me, until the Rocket -was completed. Then they threw off their false faces and withdrew the -legislation only this morning. Tell them that, Captain. And tell them -the legislation I planned would've meant a slow, intelligent Rocket -expansion over an era of three centuries. Then ask them if they think -any business man could wait even five <i>minutes</i>."</p> - -<p>Captain Greenwald scowled. "All I want to do is prove it can be done. -After I come back down, if I can help in any way to control the Rocket, -I'm your man, Stanley. After I <i>prove</i> it's possible, I don't care what -in hell happens...."</p> - -<p>Stanley slid into his 'copter, waved morosely at the captain. The crowd -shouted, waved its fists at him over the barrier. He sat watching their -distorted, sullen faces. They detested him. The Rocket balloon man, the -Rocket soap man, the tourists detested him.</p> - -<p>What was more, when his son Tommy found out, Tommy would hate him, too.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He took his time, heading home. He let the green hills slide under. -He set the automatic pilot and sank back into the sponge-softness, -suspended in a humming, blissful dream. Music played. Cigarettes and -whiskey were in reach if he desired them. Soft music. He could lapse -back into the dreaming tide, dissolve worry, smoke, drink, chortle, -luxuriously, sleep, forget, pull a shell of synthetic, hypnotizing -objects in about himself.</p> - -<p>And wake ten years from today with his wife disintegrating swiftly in -his arms. And one day see his son's skull shattered against a plastic -wall.</p> - -<p>And his own heart whirled and burst by some vast atom power of a -starship passing Earth far out in space!</p> - -<p>He dumped the whiskey over the side, followed it with the cigarettes. -Finally, he clicked off the soft music.</p> - -<p>There was his home. His eyes kindled. It lay out upon a green meadow, -far from the villages and towns, salt-white and surrounded by tapered -sycamores. As he watched, lowering his 'copter, he saw the blonde -streak across the lawn; that was his daughter, Alyce. Somewhere else on -the premises his son gamboled. Neither of them feared the dark.</p> - -<p>Angrily, Stanley poured on full speed. The landscape jerked and -vanished behind him. He wanted to be alone. He couldn't face them, yet. -Speed was the answer. Wind whistled, roared, rushed by the hurtling -'copter. He rammed it on. Color rose in his cheeks.</p> - -<p>There was music in the garden as he parked his 'copter in the fine blue -plastic garage. Oh, beautiful garage, he thought, you contribute to my -peacefulness. Oh, wonderful garage, in moments of torment, I think of -you, and I am glad I own you.</p> - -<p>Like hell.</p> - -<p>In the kitchen, Althea was whipping food with mechanisms. Her mother -sat with one withered ear to the latest audio drama. They glanced up, -pleased.</p> - -<p>"Darling, so early!" she cried, kissing him. "How's the Rocket?" piped -mother-in-law. "My, I bet you're proud!"</p> - -<p>Stanley said nothing.</p> - -<p>"Just imagine." The old woman's eyes glowed like little bulbs. "Soon -we'll breakfast in New York and supper on Mars!"</p> - -<p>Stanley watched her for a long moment, then turned hopefully to Althea. -"What do <i>you</i> think?"</p> - -<p>She sensed a trap. "Well, it would be different, wouldn't it, -vacationing our summers on Venus, winters on Mars—wouldn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, good Lord," he groaned. He shut his eyes and pounded the table, -softly. "Good Lord."</p> - -<p>"<i>Now</i>, what's wrong. What did <i>I</i> say?" demanded Althea, bewildered.</p> - -<p>He told them about his order preventing the flight.</p> - -<p>Althea stared at him. Mother reached and snapped off the audio. "<i>What</i> -did you say, young man?"</p> - -<p>He repeated it.</p> - -<p>Into the waiting silence came a distant "psssheeew!" rushing in from -the dining room, flinging the kitchen door wide, his son ran in, waving -a bright red Rocket in one grimy fist. "Psssheeew! I'm a Rocket! -Gangway! Hi, Dad!" He swung the ship in a quick arc. "Gonna be a pilot -when I'm sixteen! Hey." He stopped. "What's everybody standing around -for?" He looked at Grandma. "Grammy?" He looked at his mother. "Mom?" -And finally at his father. "Dad...?" His hands sank slowly. He read the -look in his father's eyes. "Oh, gosh."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>By three o'clock that afternoon, he had showered and dressed in clean -clothes. The house was very silent. Althea came and sat down in the -living room and looked at him with hurt, stricken eyes.</p> - -<p>He thought of quoting a few figures at her. Five million people killed -in auto accidents since the year 1920. Fifty thousand people killed -every year, <i>now</i>, in 'copters and jet-planes. But it wasn't in the -figures, it was in a feeling he had to make her <i>feel</i>. Maybe he could -illustrate it to her. He picked up the hand-audio, dialed a number. -"Hello, Smitty?"</p> - -<p>The voice on the other end said, clearly, "Oh, Mr. Stanley?"</p> - -<p>"Smitty, you're a good average man, a pleasant neighbor, a fine farmer. -I'd like your opinion. Smitty, if you knew a war was coming, would you -help prevent it?"</p> - -<p>Althea was watching and listening.</p> - -<p>Smitty said, "Hell, yes. Sure."</p> - -<p>"Thanks, Smitty. One more thing. What's your opinion of the Rocket?"</p> - -<p>"Greatest thing in history. Say, I heard you were going to—"</p> - -<p>Stanley did not want to get involved. He hurriedly excused himself and -hung up. He looked directly at his wife. "Did you notice the separation -of means from end? Smitty thinks two things. He thinks he can prevent -war; that's one. He thinks the Rocket is a great thing; that's number -two. But they don't match, unfortunately.</p> - -<p>"The Rocket isn't a means to happiness the way it'll be used. It's the -wrong means. And with a wrong means you invariably wind up with a -wrong end. A criminal seeks wealth. Does he get it? Temporarily. In the -end, he suffers. All because he took the wrong <i>means</i>." Stanley held -his hands out, uselessly. "How can I make you understand."</p> - -<p>Tears were in her eyes. "I understand <i>nothing</i>, and don't need to -understand! Your job, they'll take it away from you and fly the Rocket -anyway!"</p> - -<p>"I'll work on the legislation again, then!"</p> - -<p>"And perhaps be killed? No, please, Will."</p> - -<p>Killed. He looked at his watch. Exactly three.</p> - -<p>He answered the audio when it buzzed. "Stanley talking."</p> - -<p>"Stanley, this is Cross, at Cal-Tech."</p> - -<p>"Cross! Good Lord, it's good to hear you!"</p> - -<p>"I just heard the new-flash," said Cross. He had the same clipped, -exact voice he'd had years ago, Stanley realized. "You're really on -the spot this time, aren't you, Will? That's why I called. I like your -ideas on machinery. I've always thought of machines, myself, as nothing -but extensions of man's frustrations and emotions, his losses and -compensations in life. We agree. But you're wrong this time, Will. You -made a mistake today."</p> - -<p>"Now, don't <i>you</i> start on me! You're my last friend," retorted Stanley -tiredly. "What else could I do—destroy the rocket?"</p> - -<p>"That would be negative. No good. Give them something positive. Tell -them to go ahead," advised Cross, pleasantly enough. "Warn them, like -a kindly father, of the consequences. Then, when their fingers are -burnt—"</p> - -<p>"Humanity might go down the drain," finished Stanley abruptly.</p> - -<p>"Not if you play your cards right, control the variables. There must -be some way around them without getting yourself mangled. I'm ready to -help when you have a plan. Think it over."</p> - -<p>"I still think blowing the damn thing up would be—"</p> - -<p>"They'd build a bigger one. And they'd persecute you and your family -the rest of your life," explained Cross logically. "You and I may know -that science hasn't contributed one whit to man's <i>mental</i> progress, -but Mr. Everyman likes his babies diapered in disposable tissues and -likes to travel from Siberia to Johnstown like an infuriated bullet. -You can't stop them, you can only divert them a bit."</p> - -<p>Stanley grasped the hand-audio, tightly. He listened.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A great roar of 'copters sounded out in the afternoon sky, directly -overhead. The house shook. Althea sprang up lithely and ran to look -out. "I can't talk any more, Cross. I'll call you back. <i>They're</i> -outside, waiting for me, now...."</p> - -<p>Cross' voice faded like a dream. "Remember what I tell you. Let them go -ahead."</p> - -<p>Stanley walked to the door, opened it, stepped half through.</p> - -<p>A radio voice boomed out of the bright blue sky.</p> - -<p>"STANLEY!" it shouted. It was Simpson's voice. "STANLEY! COME OUT AND -TALK! COME OUT AND TELL US, STANLEY! STANLEY!"</p> - -<p>Althea would not stay in. She walked with him out onto the moist green -lawn, in the open.</p> - -<p>The heavens were flooded with 'copters whirling. The sun shook in its -place. 'Copters hung everywhere, like huge hummingbirds, swiveling, -whirring. Five hundred of them, at least, shadowing the lawns and -shaking the house-tops.</p> - -<p>"OH, <i>THERE</i> YOUR ARE, STANLEY!"</p> - -<p>Stanley shaded his eyes. His lips drew away from his teeth in a -grimace, as he stared upward, tense and afraid.</p> - -<p>"IT'S AFTER THREE O'CLOCK, STANLEY!" came the dull boom of words.</p> - -<p>In this moment, with the spiraling 'copters suspended over his lawn, -over his wife and children and house, over himself and his beliefs, -Stanley swallowed, stepped back, put his hands down and let the idea -grow within him. Yes, he would give them their rocket. He would give -it to them. You cannot fight the children, he thought. They must have -their green apples. If you refuse them, they will find a way around -you. Go along with their illogical tide and make logic of it. Let the -children eat their full of green apples, many, many green apples to -swell their vast stomach into sickness. Yes. A slow smile touched the -corners of his mouth, vanished. The plan was complete.</p> - -<p>The voice from the sky fell on him like an iron fist! "STANLEY! WHAT -IS YOUR WORD NOW? HOW WILL YOU SPEAK NOW? WITH A THOUSAND POUNDS OF -NITROGLYCERINE OVER YOUR HOME, HOW WILL YOU TALK?"</p> - -<p>The 'copters sank, malignantly. Thunder swept the lawn. Althea's -brilliant amber skirt flared in the wash of it.</p> - -<p>"WILL THE ROCKET FLY, STANLEY?"</p> - -<p>From the corners of his aching, straining eyes, Stanley saw his son -poised in the window, watching him.</p> - -<p>"RAISE YOUR RIGHT HAND AND WAVE IT," thundered the sky-voice. "IF THE -ANSWER IS YES!"</p> - -<p>Stanley made them wait for it. He wetted his lips with a slow tongue, -then, gradually, very casually, he raised his right hand, palm up, and -waved it to the thundering sky.</p> - -<p>A torrent of exultation poured in a Niagara from the heavens. Five -hundred audios blasted, cheered, exulted! The trees ripped and tore in -the cyclone of energy and explosion! The noise continued as Stanley -turned, took Althea's elbow, and steered her blindly back to the door.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The little black-jet-plane dropped out of the midnight stars. Moments -later, Cross was getting out of it, crossing the dark lawn, grasping -Stanley's hand warmly. "Made good time, eh?"</p> - -<p>Inside, they downed their glasses of brandy first, then got to -business. Stanley outlined his plan, his contacts, his psychology. He -was pleased and excited to see an extraordinary smile of approval come -to Cross's pink, round face. "Excellent! Now you're talking!" cried -Cross.</p> - -<p>"I like your plan, Stanley. It places the blame right back on the -people. They won't be able to persecute you."</p> - -<p>Stanley refilled the glasses. "I'll see to it you're on the Rocket -tomorrow. Greenwald—he's the captain—will co-operate, I'm certain, -when the trip is over. It's up to you and Greenwald then."</p> - -<p>They raised their glasses. "And when it's all over," observed Cross -slowly. "We'll have the long, hard struggle to revise our educational -system. To begin to apply the scientific method to man's thinking, -instead of just to his machines. And when we've built a logical -subjective world, then it'll be safe to make machines of all and any -kinds. Here's to our plan, may it be completed." They drank.</p> - -<p>The next day two million people spread over the rolling hills, through -the tiny Jersey towns, sitting atop bugs and plastic beetles. An -excitement pervaded the day. The sky was a blue vacuum, the 'copters -grounded by law. The Rocket lay gleaming and monstrous and silent.</p> - -<p>At noon, the crew ambled across the tarmac, Captain Greenwald leading. -Cross walked among them. The huge metal doors slammed, and with a blast -of Gargantuan flame, the Rocket heaved upward and vanished.</p> - -<p>People cheered and laughed and cried.</p> - -<p>Stanley watched his son and daughter and mother-in-law do likewise. He -was deeply pleased to see that Althea did not join them. Hand in hand -they watched the sky dazzlement fade. The first Rocket to the moon was -gone. The world was drunkenly happy in its delirium.</p> - -<p>Two weeks passed slowly. Astronomers were unable to keep an eye on the -Rocket. It was so small and unaccountable in the void between earth and -lunar surface.</p> - -<p>Stanley slept little in the passing of the fourteen days. He was -constantly attacked by fears and confusions of thought. He dreamed of -the Rocket going up. He had seen men month on month walking in the -metal shadow of their wonderful Rocket, patting it with their greasy, -calloused hands, loving it with their quick, appreciative eyes.</p> - -<p>If for one moment you let yourself think of it, you loved it, too, for -even though it symbolized wars and destruction, you had to admire its -balance and slenderness of structure. With it, you could rub away the -fog cosmetic of Venus, re-delineate its prehistorically shy face. And -there was Mars, too. Man had been imprisoned a million years. Why not -freedom now, at last?</p> - -<p>Then he labeled all these fantasies by their correct name, ESCAPE, and -settled back, to wait the return of the Rocket.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"The moon Rocket is returning! It will land this morning at nine -o'clock!" Everybody's audio was blatting.</p> - -<p>Like a yellow seed, the Rocket dropped down the sky, to sprout roots of -flame on which to cushion itself. It fried the tarmac and a vast deluge -of warm air rushed across the country for miles. People sweltered -amidst a sudden rocket summer.</p> - -<p>In his tower room, William Stanley watched, solemn and wordless.</p> - -<p>The Rocket shimmered. Across the cooling tarmac, the crowd rioted, -bursting through the barrier, sweeping the police aside in elation.</p> - -<p>The tide halted and boiled and changed form, layer upon layer. A vast -hush came upon it.</p> - -<p>Now the round air-lock door of the Rocket jetted out air in a -compressed sigh.</p> - -<p>The thick door, sandwiched into the ship-hull, took two minutes to -come outward and pull aside on its oiled hingework. The crowd pressed -closer, flesh to flesh, eyes widened. The door was now open completely. -A great cheer went up. The crew of the Moon Rocket stood in the -air-lock. The cheer faded, almost instantly.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> - <div class="caption"> - <p><i>The crew of the Moon Rocket stood in the air-lock.</i></p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The crew of the Rocket were not exactly standing. They were hunched -over.</p> - -<p>The captain stepped forward. Well, he didn't exactly <i>step</i>. He sort of -dragged his feet and shambled. He made a speech.</p> - -<p>But all it sounded like, coming from his twisted, swollen lips, was, -"Uns—rrrr—oh—god—disss—ease—unh—rrr—nnn—"</p> - -<p>He held out his grey-green fingers, raw, bleeding, for all to see. -He lifted his face. Those red things, were they actually eyes? That -depression, that fallen socket, had it been a nose? And where were the -teeth in that gagging, hissing mouth? His hair was thin and grey and -infected. He stank.</p> - -<p>The hypnotic silence was shattered. The first line of people turned and -clawed at the second line. The second turned instinctively to claw the -third, and so on. The television cameras caught it all.</p> - -<p>Screams, yelling, shouting. Many fell and were trampled, crushed -under. The captain and his crew came out, gesturing, calling them to -come back. But who would heed their rotting movements? The ridiculous -souvenir seekers trampled each other, ripping the clothes from one -another's backs!</p> - -<p><i>A souvenir? A scab of crawling flesh, a drop of yellow fluid from -their gaping wounds? Souvenirs for earth, buy them right here, get them -while they last! We mail anywhere in the United States!</i></p> - -<p><i>The characters in order of appearance: The Captain, the astrogator, -held sagging between two astronomers, who were followed by sixteen -mathematicians, technicians, chemists, biologists, radio men, -geographers and machinists. Shamble forth, gentlemen, and bring the -brave new future with you!</i></p> - -<p>The balloon vendor, in flight, jettisoned his entire stock. Rubber -rockets floated wildly, crazily bobbling, bouncing the river of rioting -heads until they were devoured, exploded and crumpled underfoot.</p> - -<p>Sirens sounded. Police beetles rushed to the field exits. Ten minutes -later the tarmac was empty. No sign of captain or crew. A few shreds -of their fetid clothing were found, partially disintegrated. An -audio-report five minutes later stated simply, "The captain and crew -were destroyed on orders of the health bureau! An epidemic was feared—"</p> - -<p>The sounds of riot faded. The door to Stanley's office opened, someone -entered and stood behind him, and closed the door.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Stanley did not turn from the window for a moment. "Fifty people -injured, five of them critically. I'm sorry for that. But it was a -small price for the world's security." He turned, slowly.</p> - -<p>A horrible creature stood, diseased and swollen, before him. A -captain's uniform, filthy and torn, hung tattered from the disgusting -flesh. The creature opened its bleeding mouth.</p> - -<p>"How was it?" asked the creature, muffledly.</p> - -<p>"Fine," said Stanley. "Did you reach the moon?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied the creature. "Captain Greenwald sends his regards to -you. He says he knows we can do it again and again, any time we want, -now, and that's all he wanted to know. He wishes you luck and tells you -to go ahead. We landed the rocket on the way back from the moon, first -of all, up at Fairbanks, Alaska, outside the settlement, naturally, -during the night. Things worked as you planned them. We changed -crews there. There was a minor fight. Simpson and the original crew, -including Captain Greenwald, are still up there, under psycho-hypnosis. -They'll live out their lives happily, unaware, with new names. They -won't remember anything. We took off from Fairbanks again this morning -with the new crew and our act all rehearsed, I think we did all right."</p> - -<p>"Where's the substitute crew now?" inquired Stanley.</p> - -<p>"Downstairs," said the creature. "Getting psychoed themselves. Getting -mental blocs inserted, so they'll forget they ever fooled the world -today. Then we'll send them back to their regular jobs. Can I use your -shower?"</p> - -<p>Stanley pressed a button, a panel slid aside. "Go ahead."</p> - -<p>The creature pulled its face around the edges until it shed off into -its hands, a green-grey pallid mask of plastic rubber. The sweating -pink face of Cross appeared. He wriggled his fingers next, until the -green-gray, chemically bleeding horror gloves sucked off. He tossed -these into a wall-incinerator. "The day of the Rocket is over," he -said, quietly. "They'll be putting your bill up before the World -Legislature tomorrow, or I miss my guess. Carefulness, thought and -intellect will now get a start. Humanity is saved from itself."</p> - -<p>Stanley watched Cross walk into the shower-cube, peel, and switch on -the spray.</p> - -<p>He turned to the window again. Two billion people were thinking -tonight. He knew what they were thinking. Outside, he heard the -explosion as the health department blew up the great Rocket.</p> - -<p>That was all. The sound of water on the shower-tiles was a good clean -sound.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROCKET SUMMER ***</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>This file should be named 64181-h.htm or 64181-h.zip</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/6/4/1/8/64181/</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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