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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..ffa816d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64217 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64217) diff --git a/old/64217-0.txt b/old/64217-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6b3788d..0000000 --- a/old/64217-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,836 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Death Star, by James McKimmey - -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: Death Star - -Author: James McKimmey - -Release Date: January 05, 2021 [eBook #64217] - -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 DEATH STAR *** - - - - - DEATH STAR - - By JAMES McKIMMEY, Jr. - - _For twenty long unholy years Hurtz, the - pilot, dreamed of retirement ... and found - his "acre of heaven" on a Death Star._ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories September 1953. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Hurtz went through the automatic motions of preparing himself for their -landing on the small unnamed planet, but each thing he did was a wasted -motion because it was really the boy, Jones, who was going to put the -rocket down. And what could Hurtz do now? - -Hurtz touched his rough cheek with the back of his hand and swore -silently. The hard, aging muscles of his body were taut, and although -the lines about his eyes had deepened, his eyes, blue and sparkling, -still retained their old ferocity. His eyebrows, although nearly -completely gray now, intensified that ferocity with their thickness. - -Jones, the boy, moved his hands and the rocket made its turn clumsily, -pointing its blazing fins at the strange globe beyond. - -Hurtz shook his head and asked himself why he had ever tried to help -this cocky, all-knowing kid with the thin mouth and short-clipped hair. - -The boy had fought everything Hurtz had tried to do for him, and right -now Hurtz knew, even before he said it, that the boy would respond in -the same way he had since the trip started: - -"I think you're doing all right," Hurtz said, and he tried to keep the -tone of his voice casual, as though he really meant what he said. - -The boy glanced at him briefly with insolent eyes. "I know I am," he -said. - -Hurtz had to clamp his jaw shut tightly to keep from saying anything -more. - -There was hardly any time involved in this landing, but each second -stretched out to an individual eternity. The distant globe came up to -meet them steadily, enlarging its circumference, and the roar of the -jets was thunderous after the quiet free movement they had made through -space. - -There was nothing left for Hurtz to do now but wait, and he placed his -hands on his knees, raising his curled fingers, dropping them, in a -monotonous silent tapping. - -_It isn't right. None of it. The feel of it--the speed, the sound, the -very movement. It isn't going to work, and why not, for God's sake, on -this one last run?_ - -As they slipped down through the atmosphere of the planet, Hurtz knew -that he had been very foolish and sentimental and very, very stupid for -having asked to accompany the boy. The boy's first trip. Hurtz's last. -But if Hurtz still believed in the premonitions that he could feel to -the marrow of his tired bones, this might be the last trip for both of -them. - -He watched the boy and he wished he could take control now before it -was too late. But this was the boy's own run, his rocket, and there was -nothing for Hurtz to do but wait. - -Seconds now, and Hurtz thought of all the times he had done just what -the boy was trying to do now. Twenty years of it, from globe to globe. -Stretching the fingers of exploration, all to make the money and -finally tip his damned hat and say, "Thank you. It was nice, and now -I'm going to retire and let some other poor slob take my place." But -when the time came for him to do and say just that, he had climbed in -for one more ride, just so a kid who didn't want any help might have -had a better chance to get along in this rotten exploratory service -than Hurtz had been given. - -The distance between the rocket and the widening surface of the planet -was disappearing, and in that last interval, Hurtz thought again of his -dream, the dream he had been carrying in his brain for all of these -years. - - * * * * * - -The width and breadth of his own land, that section of Mars where he -had stood twenty years ago and watched with hungry eyes, and then ever -since had sweated and cried and suffered to own. His land, with its -silent rolling hills and quiet green valleys. With its sweet sloping -clearing where he would place his house, the rippling brook singing -softly nearby. - -The only place he had seen in any system that had the peace of it, -the magnificence of it. His land. Paid for finally and bound by legal -protection, waiting for him. And here he was, letting the reward for -those twenty years drift away by sitting beside a crazy, over-confident -infant, who was sure as hell going to crash this rocket. - -When the crash came, however, Hurtz was still surprised somehow, but -only until he fell into the depthless darkness. - -When he awoke he saw that the ship rested at an odd angle. One whole -side of the compact cabin had become a gaping open tear that looked -away to the horizon of this new world. Hurtz had a thin cut over his -left eye and a collection of stinging bruises, nothing more serious. - -Jones, on the other hand, appeared to have been smashed brutally about -the legs, and from where Hurtz lay he could see the ugly cut in the -boy's head and the unnatural angle of the boy's right arm. - -"Jones?" he said to the motionless form, and then with effort he -crawled to the boy who was still clamped tightly into the swivel seat -before the instrument panel. - -His hands searched and found two broken bones in the arm and leg. -The cut in the boy's head had obviously touched bone. Hurtz gathered -medicine, bandages and splints from the first-aid compartment. He -swabbed, bound, compressed, and covered the wounds of the boy. Then -with teeth tight together he set the two bones with the rough skill of -practical experience. When the splints were bound he loosened the boy's -body from the binding straps and carried him to the rear bunk space of -the cabin. - -He tested the boy's pulse and regularity of breathing, then injected -enough of relieving drug into the boy's blood to keep the full impact -of pain away from his senses. - -Hurtz returned to the front of the cabin to look over the damaged -radio. Tentative inspection told him he could make sufficient repairs -to send out a help call. But first, he knew, he would have to make an -estimate of their position on this strange planet. - -He strapped a pistol to his waist, donned his helmet and lowered -himself to the ground. He looked about him. There was a bluish tint to -the atmosphere that hovered over the rim of the circling trees. Yellow, -pink and deep-white flowers with fragile petals nodded silently through -the stretches of growth. - -Another planet, his eyes told him, another simple damned planet, like -the one before and the one before that. Vegetation and earth beneath -another shining sun. - -And this is what I've earned, he told himself. Instead of my land, my -estate, my kingdom. His lips compressed and he hammered a fist against -the side of the rocket. - -Well, it's not going to be, he promised himself, starting his climb -back to the cabin. Nothing is going to keep me from getting what I've -earned. Nothing. He was swearing aloud when he pulled himself into the -cabin. - - * * * * * - -Jones was watching as Hurtz straightened up inside the littered -compartment. - -Hurtz unstrapped his pistol belt and tossed it to the floor. "How do -you feel, son?" he asked quietly. - -The boy only stared at Hurtz. - -"All right?" Hurtz said helpfully. - -"All right, hell," the boy said in a thin monotone. - -"You were pretty well banged up." - -"That's news?" - -"If you're still feeling pain I'll give you another shot." - -"Why don't you save it for your head?" - -Hurtz turned and went to the forward part of the cabin and the radio. -He didn't want to listen to that high, whining voice; the boy was hurt -and Hurtz recognized it, but Hurtz couldn't take too much more, from -anyone, injured or not. - -"I'm not going to live," the boy called after Hurtz. - -Hurtz turned back to face the boy. "What the hell kind of talk is that?" - -"I'm not going to live," the boy repeated in exactly the same tone. - -"You're getting delirious." - -"I'm getting dead." - -"Listen," Hurtz said slowly, "I respect the fact that you've been -smashed up, Jones, but I don't want any talk like that, do you -understand?" - -He tried to keep authority in his voice and at the same time, enough -softness to give the boy assurance that Hurtz could take care of him. -"We can have help here in no time," Hurtz continued. "The radio can -be fixed, and the first thing you know you'll be bedded down in some -pretty hospital with flowers, and...." - -"This was your fault," the boy said, as though Hurtz had not been -talking. - -Hurtz closed his mouth slowly and his lips got thin. "Why don't you try -to get some sleep?" - -"Because I'm bleeding to death inside." - -Hurtz blinked. It was a possibility, of course. The boy may have been -hurt worse than Hurtz had thought. - -With great effort the boy raised a bandaged hand to his lips and ran -his tongue across the white gauze. The movement left a red streak. "You -see?" he said. "You see that? I'm bleeding out my guts. I'll sleep, all -right. I'll really sleep, and it'll be your fault, Hurtz." - -"Listen, Jones," Hurtz said, deliberately lying, "you'll be all right. -Don't you see?" - -"No, damn you. No. And if you hadn't forced yourself onto this run, -this wouldn't have happened." - -"Jones," Hurtz said, trying to keep his voice soft. "These things just -happen, that's all. This is nobody's fault. You fly these damned runs, -you take your chances. But you're going to be all right, son." - -"Don't call me that!" the boy said, and now his voice was higher, -louder, and Hurtz could see a little of the blood showing on a corner -of the boy's mouth. "Son, son! I'm as good a pilot as anybody. You or -Gearing or Royce or anybody in the stinking service! I didn't need your -damned help, and that's what did it. Sitting there, watching me every -minute, making me tighten up until I couldn't fly a kite. It's your -fault, and why the hell couldn't you have died or gone back to your -stupid Martian farm...." The boy was crying. A thin trickle of blood -crawled down his chin. - -Hurtz took a step forward. "Kid, listen. I wanted to help you, and...." - -"Keep the hell away from me!" the boy screamed. - -Hurtz froze. He hadn't realized either how badly hurt the boy had been -or how much resentment had lain beneath the boy's cold exterior. He was -beginning to feel some of the guilt that was placed on him by the look -in the boy's staring eyes. "But why?" he asked himself. "Why? When all -he had wanted to do was help someone?" - -"I know how you're feeling," Hurtz said, trying to be patient and calm. -"I really do, but you can't blame anyone for this." - -The boy remained silent and condemning, and Hurtz knew that his words -were ringing hollowly in the cabin. Still he tried: - -"Look. I've crashed before, on a dozen planets. But that's the way it -works. And that's why I wanted to help you. I wanted to quit on this -last one, don't you see? For twenty unholy years I've been trying to -own a piece of my own land where I could say, 'This is my own world,' -and what I tried to do by going with you, was make it easier for you. -Because in you, I could see myself twenty years ago. Don't you see?" - -The boy said nothing. - -"I wanted to give it up and quit, but I thought if I could show you -something, teach you something...." He cut the words short because he -could feel himself pleading. There was no need for this. What he had -done had been a sacrifice, and if the boy couldn't see that, then it -was because he was hurt and in great pain. - -"If I had a medal," the boy said hoarsely, "I'd shove it down your -rotten throat." - -Hurtz ran the palms of his hands down the sides of his trousers. "I'll -give you another shot and then I'll get the radio set up. You'll be all -right." - -The boy shook his head slowly, the bright eyes never looking away from -Hurtz. "You're not going to give me anything, and I'm not going to be -all right." - -"I can't waste more time, Jones. You are hurt. Bad. And I've got to get -help." He turned abruptly and went back to the radio. There were only -wires loosened and parts slightly shaken. No irreparable damage. His -hands moved quickly. - -When he heard the thump of the boy's body hitting the floor of the -cabin his stomach jumped. He turned, made a step forward, then halted. - -The boy was stretched below the bunk. Blood was spilling from his -mouth. But he was moving and alive, and in his hands now was the pistol -Hurtz had dropped. - -"What the hell are you doing?" Hurtz said. - -But the boy was motioning with the pistol. "Stay where you are. Stay -the hell where you are." - -Hurtz waited, watching the way the boy lay on one of his arms, the -broken one. The drug would be cutting out the pain to some extent, -but he was breaking himself up. "Jones," Hurtz said, "for God's sake, -you're killing yourself." - -"Oh, no," the boy said, pointing the pistol. "_You're_ killing me. I -would have been all right, but you had to come along and this is your -work, Hurtz. You're killing me. Now you're going to get your reward for -that." - -"Jones," Hurtz said, "if you think this was my fault, all right then. -I'm suddenly very damned tired. I was tired before I started this, -and it's worse now. If what went wrong was my fault, then I'm sorry. -I really am. Do what you want to about it." Hurtz felt his energy -draining out, and all he seemed to want to do at that moment was sit -down and be quiet. - -"I will," the boy answered, and Hurtz could hear the click of the -safety going off. "I'll do exactly what I want to do about it. Are you -ready?" - - * * * * * - -Hurtz watched the pistol in the boy's hands. Then he threw himself -sideways, rolling across the cabin, trying to find protection as the -pistol cracked again and again. When the sound had stopped and silence -had settled itself heavily over the cabin, Hurtz lay half-sprawled, -looking at the boy. - -He knew none of the shots had struck him and the surprise of this made -his position on the floor seem, for a moment, very foolish. Then he -realized what the boy had hit--the radio and the replacement cabinet -full of extra parts. - -From his twisted position on the floor the boy had done a very -effective job of splintering every part of their communication system. - -Sudden anger ran through Hurtz and he pushed himself up to stand -flush-faced, watching the smiling boy. "You've gone crazy," he said. - -The boy shook his head, his fingers still clutching the pistol. "No. I -really haven't. But you will, Hurtz. Because you aren't going anywhere -now. No place at all. You're going to stay right here, because you -can't get help now." - -"The hell I can't," Hurtz said, but he knew as he said it, that the -statement was a childish reaction, and that in truth he couldn't. - -"The radio makes no difference to me," the boy said. "I'm going to die. -In a very few minutes. I can feel it crawling up in me. But I'll die -knowing you aren't going to get what you were after, Hurtz, any more -that I did. I was good, damn you. I was a damned good pilot. I had it -all in front of me, and you had to ruin it. But you aren't going to -get anything now. Your land, Hurtz? Your stupid land. How about that? -Who'll be sitting on that when you don't get back?" - -"I feel sorry for you." - -"Oh, that's good of you, Hurtz. You feel sorry for me while you spend -the rest of your life stuck on this damned planet, will you? I enjoy -the thought of that." - -"I won't be here long," Hurtz bluffed. - -"Oh, no?" the boy said, as more blood ran down his chin. "A planet half -the size of Venus? No way to send them your position? You think they're -going to send out a fleet to look for you over every inch of this -globe? They couldn't find you in forty years." - -Hurtz stood silent, his eyes thin as he watched the boy with the -bleeding and smiling mouth. "I only wanted one thing, Jones. Just that -one thing." - -"That's right," the boy grinned. "Just that one thing, that section -on Mars. Only now you aren't going to get it. You've got a one-track -obsession, Hurtz, like a simple damned child, even though you've flown -the universe for twenty years. This'll kill you, and you have my -deepest regrets. Here," he said, sending the pistol spinning across the -floor so that it stopped beside Hurtz's boots. "There's a round left -in it. I saved it. Just for you." - -The boy began to laugh then, a kind of building laughter, that turned -into choking. He put one hand to his throat and then rolled over -suddenly, so that his eyes stared at the ceiling. - -Hurtz looked at the dead boy for a long time, then he tapped the pistol -very lightly with a toe of a boot. Finally he stepped to the broken -radio and ran his fingers carefully over the useless equipment. - -When he crawled from the cabin of the rocket to the ground, his -movements were automatic. On the ground, he stood, very quietly, his -back against the ship, watching the tree leaves flutter faintly with -the breeze. - -The words of the boy were still in his brain, and he could still see -the very clean-cut, very young, very dead face. So many times he'd -thought of Jones as he had been himself, twenty years ago. It was -almost as though he'd died up there himself. Worse, was the realization -that what the boy had told him was right. Somehow, this was all his -own fault. With his age and knowledge and experience, he'd taken the -confidence out of the boy. The fears, the distrust, during the whole -trip, had been communicated to Jones and so this was the result. - -He shook his head a little and pushed himself away from the rocket. He -began walking, step after step, unknowing of his movement. Jones had -been right about another thing, too. Hurtz's one-track obsession. That -was true, and it had been his motivation for everything he had done. -To get one thing. A lifetime of blindness to everything else, while -he lived through one day after another, year after year, to reach one -individual day that was as surely lost now as the life of that boy in -the rocket. - -And so this is life. You fight your blind way through an entire -lifetime, and when you get to the end there isn't anything at all. -His hands knotted at his sides, and he walked with anger and a rising -bitterness. - -All at once he stopped, his eyes widening. The rim of trees had -disappeared, and now in front of him lay the entire length and breadth -of it. Detail for detail. _His_ land, with its silent rolling hills and -quiet green valleys. _His_ land, with the sweet sloping clearing and -the rippling brook singing softly beside it. _His_ land right in front -of his eyes. - -But it couldn't be. A mirage, perhaps? Shock twisting the responses of -his brain? - -Yet when he had stood there, wide-eyed, examining, he knew that what -he saw was reality and every blade of grass, every leaf, every drop of -water in the singing brook was physically there. Inch for inch. - -Lord, he thought, dropping to his knees. How could this be? - -He thought about it as he looked and felt and thrilled. Perhaps, he -thought, this was the way it was on other planets, when I couldn't see -anything but a long-distant dream. Perhaps I could have had this a -dozen times in my life, and all I would have had to do was take it. But -why didn't I? Why couldn't I see this before? Did it take twenty years -for me to start seeing what was in front of my eyes? - -And why twenty years? Why this time and moment? Because for once in my -life I forgot about my own damned desires and thought about something -and someone else? Is that it? - -Hurtz climbed to his feet slowly. He didn't know and he asked no more -questions of himself. He simply walked forward to it, forgetting the -broken rocket and boy who broke it. He simply breathed deep of the -perfumes of the hills and the valleys, and he stepped onto the sloping -clearing, listening to the singing of the brook. - -His nostrils failed to respond to the faintly acrid odor of wet dead -leaves. His eyes failed to discover the rather sharp, ugly cut of the -profile of the hills or the ungainly dip of the valleys. He was blind -to the muddiness of the brook and his ears could not hear the sucking -sound the water made as it pitched over dirty-colored rocks. He did not -look, hear, or feel as he might have on that section of Mars, where the -dream of twenty years might have disappeared like a speared bubble to -become ugly reality. He was capable of none of the deadening response -that might have been his, here on Mars, had he been a man who had not -lived twenty years to offer, finally, one totally honest, unselfish -motion in this universe. - -He simply stepped to his reward, smiling. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH STAR *** - -***** This file should be named 64217-0.txt or 64217-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - https://www.gutenberg.org/6/4/2/1/64217/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <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: Death Star</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: James McKimmey</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 05, 2021 [eBook #64217]</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 DEATH STAR ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>DEATH STAR</h1> - -<h2>By JAMES McKIMMEY, Jr.</h2> - -<p><i>For twenty long unholy years Hurtz, the<br /> -pilot, dreamed of retirement ... and found<br /> -his "acre of heaven" on a Death Star.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories September 1953.<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>Hurtz went through the automatic motions of preparing himself for their -landing on the small unnamed planet, but each thing he did was a wasted -motion because it was really the boy, Jones, who was going to put the -rocket down. And what could Hurtz do now?</p> - -<p>Hurtz touched his rough cheek with the back of his hand and swore -silently. The hard, aging muscles of his body were taut, and although -the lines about his eyes had deepened, his eyes, blue and sparkling, -still retained their old ferocity. His eyebrows, although nearly -completely gray now, intensified that ferocity with their thickness.</p> - -<p>Jones, the boy, moved his hands and the rocket made its turn clumsily, -pointing its blazing fins at the strange globe beyond.</p> - -<p>Hurtz shook his head and asked himself why he had ever tried to help -this cocky, all-knowing kid with the thin mouth and short-clipped hair.</p> - -<p>The boy had fought everything Hurtz had tried to do for him, and right -now Hurtz knew, even before he said it, that the boy would respond in -the same way he had since the trip started:</p> - -<p>"I think you're doing all right," Hurtz said, and he tried to keep the -tone of his voice casual, as though he really meant what he said.</p> - -<p>The boy glanced at him briefly with insolent eyes. "I know I am," he -said.</p> - -<p>Hurtz had to clamp his jaw shut tightly to keep from saying anything -more.</p> - -<p>There was hardly any time involved in this landing, but each second -stretched out to an individual eternity. The distant globe came up to -meet them steadily, enlarging its circumference, and the roar of the -jets was thunderous after the quiet free movement they had made through -space.</p> - -<p>There was nothing left for Hurtz to do now but wait, and he placed his -hands on his knees, raising his curled fingers, dropping them, in a -monotonous silent tapping.</p> - -<p><i>It isn't right. None of it. The feel of it—the speed, the sound, the -very movement. It isn't going to work, and why not, for God's sake, on -this one last run?</i></p> - -<p>As they slipped down through the atmosphere of the planet, Hurtz knew -that he had been very foolish and sentimental and very, very stupid for -having asked to accompany the boy. The boy's first trip. Hurtz's last. -But if Hurtz still believed in the premonitions that he could feel to -the marrow of his tired bones, this might be the last trip for both of -them.</p> - -<p>He watched the boy and he wished he could take control now before it -was too late. But this was the boy's own run, his rocket, and there was -nothing for Hurtz to do but wait.</p> - -<p>Seconds now, and Hurtz thought of all the times he had done just what -the boy was trying to do now. Twenty years of it, from globe to globe. -Stretching the fingers of exploration, all to make the money and -finally tip his damned hat and say, "Thank you. It was nice, and now -I'm going to retire and let some other poor slob take my place." But -when the time came for him to do and say just that, he had climbed in -for one more ride, just so a kid who didn't want any help might have -had a better chance to get along in this rotten exploratory service -than Hurtz had been given.</p> - -<p>The distance between the rocket and the widening surface of the planet -was disappearing, and in that last interval, Hurtz thought again of his -dream, the dream he had been carrying in his brain for all of these -years.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The width and breadth of his own land, that section of Mars where he -had stood twenty years ago and watched with hungry eyes, and then ever -since had sweated and cried and suffered to own. His land, with its -silent rolling hills and quiet green valleys. With its sweet sloping -clearing where he would place his house, the rippling brook singing -softly nearby.</p> - -<p>The only place he had seen in any system that had the peace of it, -the magnificence of it. His land. Paid for finally and bound by legal -protection, waiting for him. And here he was, letting the reward for -those twenty years drift away by sitting beside a crazy, over-confident -infant, who was sure as hell going to crash this rocket.</p> - -<p>When the crash came, however, Hurtz was still surprised somehow, but -only until he fell into the depthless darkness.</p> - -<p>When he awoke he saw that the ship rested at an odd angle. One whole -side of the compact cabin had become a gaping open tear that looked -away to the horizon of this new world. Hurtz had a thin cut over his -left eye and a collection of stinging bruises, nothing more serious.</p> - -<p>Jones, on the other hand, appeared to have been smashed brutally about -the legs, and from where Hurtz lay he could see the ugly cut in the -boy's head and the unnatural angle of the boy's right arm.</p> - -<p>"Jones?" he said to the motionless form, and then with effort he -crawled to the boy who was still clamped tightly into the swivel seat -before the instrument panel.</p> - -<p>His hands searched and found two broken bones in the arm and leg. -The cut in the boy's head had obviously touched bone. Hurtz gathered -medicine, bandages and splints from the first-aid compartment. He -swabbed, bound, compressed, and covered the wounds of the boy. Then -with teeth tight together he set the two bones with the rough skill of -practical experience. When the splints were bound he loosened the boy's -body from the binding straps and carried him to the rear bunk space of -the cabin.</p> - -<p>He tested the boy's pulse and regularity of breathing, then injected -enough of relieving drug into the boy's blood to keep the full impact -of pain away from his senses.</p> - -<p>Hurtz returned to the front of the cabin to look over the damaged -radio. Tentative inspection told him he could make sufficient repairs -to send out a help call. But first, he knew, he would have to make an -estimate of their position on this strange planet.</p> - -<p>He strapped a pistol to his waist, donned his helmet and lowered -himself to the ground. He looked about him. There was a bluish tint to -the atmosphere that hovered over the rim of the circling trees. Yellow, -pink and deep-white flowers with fragile petals nodded silently through -the stretches of growth.</p> - -<p>Another planet, his eyes told him, another simple damned planet, like -the one before and the one before that. Vegetation and earth beneath -another shining sun.</p> - -<p>And this is what I've earned, he told himself. Instead of my land, my -estate, my kingdom. His lips compressed and he hammered a fist against -the side of the rocket.</p> - -<p>Well, it's not going to be, he promised himself, starting his climb -back to the cabin. Nothing is going to keep me from getting what I've -earned. Nothing. He was swearing aloud when he pulled himself into the -cabin.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Jones was watching as Hurtz straightened up inside the littered -compartment.</p> - -<p>Hurtz unstrapped his pistol belt and tossed it to the floor. "How do -you feel, son?" he asked quietly.</p> - -<p>The boy only stared at Hurtz.</p> - -<p>"All right?" Hurtz said helpfully.</p> - -<p>"All right, hell," the boy said in a thin monotone.</p> - -<p>"You were pretty well banged up."</p> - -<p>"That's news?"</p> - -<p>"If you're still feeling pain I'll give you another shot."</p> - -<p>"Why don't you save it for your head?"</p> - -<p>Hurtz turned and went to the forward part of the cabin and the radio. -He didn't want to listen to that high, whining voice; the boy was hurt -and Hurtz recognized it, but Hurtz couldn't take too much more, from -anyone, injured or not.</p> - -<p>"I'm not going to live," the boy called after Hurtz.</p> - -<p>Hurtz turned back to face the boy. "What the hell kind of talk is that?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not going to live," the boy repeated in exactly the same tone.</p> - -<p>"You're getting delirious."</p> - -<p>"I'm getting dead."</p> - -<p>"Listen," Hurtz said slowly, "I respect the fact that you've been -smashed up, Jones, but I don't want any talk like that, do you -understand?"</p> - -<p>He tried to keep authority in his voice and at the same time, enough -softness to give the boy assurance that Hurtz could take care of him. -"We can have help here in no time," Hurtz continued. "The radio can -be fixed, and the first thing you know you'll be bedded down in some -pretty hospital with flowers, and...."</p> - -<p>"This was your fault," the boy said, as though Hurtz had not been -talking.</p> - -<p>Hurtz closed his mouth slowly and his lips got thin. "Why don't you try -to get some sleep?"</p> - -<p>"Because I'm bleeding to death inside."</p> - -<p>Hurtz blinked. It was a possibility, of course. The boy may have been -hurt worse than Hurtz had thought.</p> - -<p>With great effort the boy raised a bandaged hand to his lips and ran -his tongue across the white gauze. The movement left a red streak. "You -see?" he said. "You see that? I'm bleeding out my guts. I'll sleep, all -right. I'll really sleep, and it'll be your fault, Hurtz."</p> - -<p>"Listen, Jones," Hurtz said, deliberately lying, "you'll be all right. -Don't you see?"</p> - -<p>"No, damn you. No. And if you hadn't forced yourself onto this run, -this wouldn't have happened."</p> - -<p>"Jones," Hurtz said, trying to keep his voice soft. "These things just -happen, that's all. This is nobody's fault. You fly these damned runs, -you take your chances. But you're going to be all right, son."</p> - -<p>"Don't call me that!" the boy said, and now his voice was higher, -louder, and Hurtz could see a little of the blood showing on a corner -of the boy's mouth. "Son, son! I'm as good a pilot as anybody. You or -Gearing or Royce or anybody in the stinking service! I didn't need your -damned help, and that's what did it. Sitting there, watching me every -minute, making me tighten up until I couldn't fly a kite. It's your -fault, and why the hell couldn't you have died or gone back to your -stupid Martian farm...." The boy was crying. A thin trickle of blood -crawled down his chin.</p> - -<p>Hurtz took a step forward. "Kid, listen. I wanted to help you, and...."</p> - -<p>"Keep the hell away from me!" the boy screamed.</p> - -<p>Hurtz froze. He hadn't realized either how badly hurt the boy had been -or how much resentment had lain beneath the boy's cold exterior. He was -beginning to feel some of the guilt that was placed on him by the look -in the boy's staring eyes. "But why?" he asked himself. "Why? When all -he had wanted to do was help someone?"</p> - -<p>"I know how you're feeling," Hurtz said, trying to be patient and calm. -"I really do, but you can't blame anyone for this."</p> - -<p>The boy remained silent and condemning, and Hurtz knew that his words -were ringing hollowly in the cabin. Still he tried:</p> - -<p>"Look. I've crashed before, on a dozen planets. But that's the way it -works. And that's why I wanted to help you. I wanted to quit on this -last one, don't you see? For twenty unholy years I've been trying to -own a piece of my own land where I could say, 'This is my own world,' -and what I tried to do by going with you, was make it easier for you. -Because in you, I could see myself twenty years ago. Don't you see?"</p> - -<p>The boy said nothing.</p> - -<p>"I wanted to give it up and quit, but I thought if I could show you -something, teach you something...." He cut the words short because he -could feel himself pleading. There was no need for this. What he had -done had been a sacrifice, and if the boy couldn't see that, then it -was because he was hurt and in great pain.</p> - -<p>"If I had a medal," the boy said hoarsely, "I'd shove it down your -rotten throat."</p> - -<p>Hurtz ran the palms of his hands down the sides of his trousers. "I'll -give you another shot and then I'll get the radio set up. You'll be all -right."</p> - -<p>The boy shook his head slowly, the bright eyes never looking away from -Hurtz. "You're not going to give me anything, and I'm not going to be -all right."</p> - -<p>"I can't waste more time, Jones. You are hurt. Bad. And I've got to get -help." He turned abruptly and went back to the radio. There were only -wires loosened and parts slightly shaken. No irreparable damage. His -hands moved quickly.</p> - -<p>When he heard the thump of the boy's body hitting the floor of the -cabin his stomach jumped. He turned, made a step forward, then halted.</p> - -<p>The boy was stretched below the bunk. Blood was spilling from his -mouth. But he was moving and alive, and in his hands now was the pistol -Hurtz had dropped.</p> - -<p>"What the hell are you doing?" Hurtz said.</p> - -<p>But the boy was motioning with the pistol. "Stay where you are. Stay -the hell where you are."</p> - -<p>Hurtz waited, watching the way the boy lay on one of his arms, the -broken one. The drug would be cutting out the pain to some extent, -but he was breaking himself up. "Jones," Hurtz said, "for God's sake, -you're killing yourself."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no," the boy said, pointing the pistol. "<i>You're</i> killing me. I -would have been all right, but you had to come along and this is your -work, Hurtz. You're killing me. Now you're going to get your reward for -that."</p> - -<p>"Jones," Hurtz said, "if you think this was my fault, all right then. -I'm suddenly very damned tired. I was tired before I started this, -and it's worse now. If what went wrong was my fault, then I'm sorry. -I really am. Do what you want to about it." Hurtz felt his energy -draining out, and all he seemed to want to do at that moment was sit -down and be quiet.</p> - -<p>"I will," the boy answered, and Hurtz could hear the click of the -safety going off. "I'll do exactly what I want to do about it. Are you -ready?"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Hurtz watched the pistol in the boy's hands. Then he threw himself -sideways, rolling across the cabin, trying to find protection as the -pistol cracked again and again. When the sound had stopped and silence -had settled itself heavily over the cabin, Hurtz lay half-sprawled, -looking at the boy.</p> - -<p>He knew none of the shots had struck him and the surprise of this made -his position on the floor seem, for a moment, very foolish. Then he -realized what the boy had hit—the radio and the replacement cabinet -full of extra parts.</p> - -<p>From his twisted position on the floor the boy had done a very -effective job of splintering every part of their communication system.</p> - -<p>Sudden anger ran through Hurtz and he pushed himself up to stand -flush-faced, watching the smiling boy. "You've gone crazy," he said.</p> - -<p>The boy shook his head, his fingers still clutching the pistol. "No. I -really haven't. But you will, Hurtz. Because you aren't going anywhere -now. No place at all. You're going to stay right here, because you -can't get help now."</p> - -<p>"The hell I can't," Hurtz said, but he knew as he said it, that the -statement was a childish reaction, and that in truth he couldn't.</p> - -<p>"The radio makes no difference to me," the boy said. "I'm going to die. -In a very few minutes. I can feel it crawling up in me. But I'll die -knowing you aren't going to get what you were after, Hurtz, any more -that I did. I was good, damn you. I was a damned good pilot. I had it -all in front of me, and you had to ruin it. But you aren't going to -get anything now. Your land, Hurtz? Your stupid land. How about that? -Who'll be sitting on that when you don't get back?"</p> - -<p>"I feel sorry for you."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's good of you, Hurtz. You feel sorry for me while you spend -the rest of your life stuck on this damned planet, will you? I enjoy -the thought of that."</p> - -<p>"I won't be here long," Hurtz bluffed.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no?" the boy said, as more blood ran down his chin. "A planet half -the size of Venus? No way to send them your position? You think they're -going to send out a fleet to look for you over every inch of this -globe? They couldn't find you in forty years."</p> - -<p>Hurtz stood silent, his eyes thin as he watched the boy with the -bleeding and smiling mouth. "I only wanted one thing, Jones. Just that -one thing."</p> - -<p>"That's right," the boy grinned. "Just that one thing, that section -on Mars. Only now you aren't going to get it. You've got a one-track -obsession, Hurtz, like a simple damned child, even though you've flown -the universe for twenty years. This'll kill you, and you have my -deepest regrets. Here," he said, sending the pistol spinning across the -floor so that it stopped beside Hurtz's boots. "There's a round left -in it. I saved it. Just for you."</p> - -<p>The boy began to laugh then, a kind of building laughter, that turned -into choking. He put one hand to his throat and then rolled over -suddenly, so that his eyes stared at the ceiling.</p> - -<p>Hurtz looked at the dead boy for a long time, then he tapped the pistol -very lightly with a toe of a boot. Finally he stepped to the broken -radio and ran his fingers carefully over the useless equipment.</p> - -<p>When he crawled from the cabin of the rocket to the ground, his -movements were automatic. On the ground, he stood, very quietly, his -back against the ship, watching the tree leaves flutter faintly with -the breeze.</p> - -<p>The words of the boy were still in his brain, and he could still see -the very clean-cut, very young, very dead face. So many times he'd -thought of Jones as he had been himself, twenty years ago. It was -almost as though he'd died up there himself. Worse, was the realization -that what the boy had told him was right. Somehow, this was all his -own fault. With his age and knowledge and experience, he'd taken the -confidence out of the boy. The fears, the distrust, during the whole -trip, had been communicated to Jones and so this was the result.</p> - -<p>He shook his head a little and pushed himself away from the rocket. He -began walking, step after step, unknowing of his movement. Jones had -been right about another thing, too. Hurtz's one-track obsession. That -was true, and it had been his motivation for everything he had done. -To get one thing. A lifetime of blindness to everything else, while -he lived through one day after another, year after year, to reach one -individual day that was as surely lost now as the life of that boy in -the rocket.</p> - -<p>And so this is life. You fight your blind way through an entire -lifetime, and when you get to the end there isn't anything at all. -His hands knotted at his sides, and he walked with anger and a rising -bitterness.</p> - -<p>All at once he stopped, his eyes widening. The rim of trees had -disappeared, and now in front of him lay the entire length and breadth -of it. Detail for detail. <i>His</i> land, with its silent rolling hills and -quiet green valleys. <i>His</i> land, with the sweet sloping clearing and -the rippling brook singing softly beside it. <i>His</i> land right in front -of his eyes.</p> - -<p>But it couldn't be. A mirage, perhaps? Shock twisting the responses of -his brain?</p> - -<p>Yet when he had stood there, wide-eyed, examining, he knew that what -he saw was reality and every blade of grass, every leaf, every drop of -water in the singing brook was physically there. Inch for inch.</p> - -<p>Lord, he thought, dropping to his knees. How could this be?</p> - -<p>He thought about it as he looked and felt and thrilled. Perhaps, he -thought, this was the way it was on other planets, when I couldn't see -anything but a long-distant dream. Perhaps I could have had this a -dozen times in my life, and all I would have had to do was take it. But -why didn't I? Why couldn't I see this before? Did it take twenty years -for me to start seeing what was in front of my eyes?</p> - -<p>And why twenty years? Why this time and moment? Because for once in my -life I forgot about my own damned desires and thought about something -and someone else? Is that it?</p> - -<p>Hurtz climbed to his feet slowly. He didn't know and he asked no more -questions of himself. He simply walked forward to it, forgetting the -broken rocket and boy who broke it. He simply breathed deep of the -perfumes of the hills and the valleys, and he stepped onto the sloping -clearing, listening to the singing of the brook.</p> - -<p>His nostrils failed to respond to the faintly acrid odor of wet dead -leaves. His eyes failed to discover the rather sharp, ugly cut of the -profile of the hills or the ungainly dip of the valleys. He was blind -to the muddiness of the brook and his ears could not hear the sucking -sound the water made as it pitched over dirty-colored rocks. He did not -look, hear, or feel as he might have on that section of Mars, where the -dream of twenty years might have disappeared like a speared bubble to -become ugly reality. He was capable of none of the deadening response -that might have been his, here on Mars, had he been a man who had not -lived twenty years to offer, finally, one totally honest, unselfish -motion in this universe.</p> - -<p>He simply stepped to his reward, smiling.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH STAR ***</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>This file should be named 64217-h.htm or 64217-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/6/4/2/1/64217/</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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