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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..77f6f34 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64602 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64602) diff --git a/old/64602-0.txt b/old/64602-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6599c4f..0000000 --- a/old/64602-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1046 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Runaway, by Alfred Coppel - -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: Runaway - -Author: Alfred Coppel - -Release Date: February 20, 2021 [eBook #64602] - -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 RUNAWAY *** - - - - - RUNAWAY - - By ALFRED COPPEL, JR. - - Ripped by an asteroid stray, the space-ship - drifted helplessly ... until suddenly, across the - shuddering deeps, a strange voice called to her. - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Spring 1949. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -I recall that when I was just a boy hanging around the old Mojave space -yards, there was an old timer there who used to sing an old song. He -learned it from his father and he from his grandfather who used to -prospect for gold in the Death Valley country. - - Oh, my darling, oh my darling, - Oh, my darling Clementine, - You are lost and gone forever, - Dreadful sorry, Clementine!... - -The old timer was really ancient when I knew him, because he could -remember the war with the Federal States that used to be called -Germany and Japan. There was a strangeness about him, or so it seems -to me now. Listening to him sing those pioneer ballads caught at -the imagination and woke dreams. Of course, I was young then, and -impressionable. But his tales were my gospel. There were some among the -yard hands who claimed he was a survivor of the first crew back from -Luna, but that was probably loose talk. In those days every yard had -its "Selenite man." - -It was from him, though, that I heard my first spaceman's yarns. Yarns -about the ships that were built when Venus and Mars were the outposts -of the system ... the frontier. - -He used to tell of the strange ways in which those old ships took on -personality ... character, if you like ... in the eyes of the men -who crewed them. When he spoke I could almost feel the thrill of -those punishing vertical takeoffs, and I could smell the stink of -gasoline and feel the icy nimbus of liquid oxygen. I could feel too -the throbbing of the first crotchety atomics under my feet and the -quivering sense of aliveness it gave.... - -Somehow, I don't believe the old man was embroidering fantasies for me. -I think even then he knew. - -I grew older and left Mojave for a dozen berths on as many ships, but I -never forgot the old timer and his stories. And it's odd that the ship -that proved his claims to me should bear the name he used to sing in -that pioneer ballad of his. My first command ... the R. S. Clementine. - - * * * * * - -I know that you'll not believe what I'm going to say about that ship. -The Spatial Academy had filled you with book-learning and covered you -with gold braid. But it's killed your imagination. Academies have a way -of doing that. To you this will be an old spaceman's shaggy dog story. -But no matter. I know what I know. I was there when Clem was born, and -I watched her as she went home. - -Fortunately, atomic drives are outdated now. The new warships are the -regular thing. Atomics didn't last long, and in a way it's a good -thing. At least no crew will ever have to go through what mine went -through, and no ship turn into a fey thing like Clem did. - -The strange thing about it is that I cared for that ship. I cared for -her from the first moment I saw her lying somnolently among the rusting -hulks in the graveyard near Canalopolis. - -Remember, this was a long time ago. Even then, the old timer of the -Mojave yards must have been fifteen years dead and gone. Canalopolis -was a desert outpost on the edge of Syrtis Major cowering under the -lash of the everlasting sandstorms, but just then it was a boomtown. - -A lot of the vital force had drained away from the urge to colonize -when Mars and Venus had turned out to be so inhospitable. That's -why there were old ships and to spare in the Canalopolis yards. It -looked as though the outward flood of humanity had reached its limit. -The Asteroid Belt made deep space too dangerous to reach for mere -colonization. A catalyst was needed. - -It was supplied when Carvel's exploratory crew reached Europa and found -gold. - -Gold! In the same way that the cry from Sutter's Mill had brought a -flood of new life out to the wilderness that was California centuries -back, so Carvel's news brought men out from Terra to seek their -fortunes in the darkness of deep space ... on that tiny, unknown -worldlet spinning close to the bosom of mighty Jupiter. - -The ink on my Master's ticket was barely dry when I jumped the -Centurion as she dropped gravs at Canalopolis. I was set for a ship of -my own. With a few carefully hoarded dollars in my overalls and a lot -of brass I figured that I could get me a command. A few trips through -the Belt would put me in velvet. Of course, I knew it was dangerous and -uncharted, but the canal city was full of grizzled sourdoughs and eager -youngsters all willing to pay plenty for transport to Europa. I figured -I couldn't miss. - -That's where the R. S. Clementine came in. I bought her with a few -dollars cash and a whole lot of credit. During those hectic days a man -with a space pilot's license and a Master's rating could just about -write his own ticket. - -I signed a note for fifty thousand and took possession of the ship. The -fueling took five thousand ... inerted plutonium came high on Mars, and -the victualling took another two thousand. It didn't bother me. Ink and -paper were cheap enough. - -Then I spent two days rounding up a crew on a share and share alike -basis, and another day lining up fifty passengers at two thousand a -head. I was in business. - -My Second Officer was a grizzled old rum-dum called Swanson. He was -a laconic old soul who loved spacing only a jot better than he loved -Martian alky. But he was a sharp man for the firing consoles; I never -knew a better one. - -I was lucky to get a physicist, too, though it turned out unlucky for -him. He was a green youngster just out of Cal Tech who fell prey to the -gold fever and found himself stranded on Mars a few million miles from -the lode. I talked him into signing on for a minimum of three trips on -the promise that his share of the take would make him a fine grub-stake -out on Europa. When I think of it now, I feel as though I personally -killed him. He didn't want to help crew Clem, but he was on the spot -and I talked him into it. Green as grass he was. But he had brains. -Brains for working atomics ... nothing else. Holcomb, his name was. -I'll never forget it. - -The R. S. Clementine ... it was shortened to Clem even before -takeoff ... was an atomic multiple pulse three hundred footer. The pile -that drove her was housed in a long sheathed tube-shaft that ran from -just aft of the Control deck to the nozzles along her longitudinal -axis. It was an inefficient system, but to me it looked like pure -beauty. After all, she was my first command. - -At 22/30 on 2/13/49 Mars date, we blasted off for Europa with fifty -passengers, nine crewmen and a hold full of mining equipment. In that -three hundred foot hull we were like sardines packed in a can. Sure, it -was profiteering, but have you ever seen prosperity without it? - - * * * * * - -The trip out was almost too uneventful. We found a clear channel -through the Belt and came through without a change of course. In those -days no one had ever heard of deflectors, and a free passage through -the Belt was a one in a thousand chance. Yet, being young and a bit -cocky, I was willing to attribute it to my own spacemanship. I imagined -that the trip back would be even easier. - -The greeting we got at Europa didn't do much to teach me humility, -either. Not many ships were getting through, and those miners wined and -dined us in true frontier style. - -It took six hours to unload our passengers and their gear, and another -hour to round up a payload for the hop back to Mars. It was mostly ore -and mail, but we did get two passengers. - -We refueled out on the airless, rocky plain that served Europa as -a space yard. Jupiter seemed to fill the sky. Deep space was a new -experience to us and never had we grounded on a planet or moon so near -to so large a primary. There were several cases of vertigo caused by -the crazy feeling that we were upside down when we looked up at that -hellishly big orb in the sky. That was one of the ever-present dangers -on Europa. Enough of it and you found your mind going. - -One passenger was a miner that cracked like that. The other was an -attendant from the Triplanetary Medical Mission that had established a -small base on the moonlet. In other words, his keeper. - -The psycho came aboard in a straight-jacket and a blank bewildered -look twisted his face as he climbed woodenly into the ventral valve. -The attendant didn't look a great deal saner. Still, I was supremely -confident, and my passenger's afflictions didn't worry me at all. - -I was busily counting my imaginary profits as soon as we blasted free. -To say that I was pleased with myself would be an understatement. -Clem sought the sky like the proverbial homesick angel, her atomics -throbbing beautifully under the care of Holcomb and his tube gang. -Swanson and I set her into a hyperbolic trajectory with a couple of -flourishes of the graphites and Jupiter moved into the proper position -dead astern. It was all too easy.... - -A week passed before we crossed the outermost periphery of the Belt. -Clem slipped between two small-sized mountains and we were in. For -several hours the screens showed clear sky, and then came the deluge! -There was no one in a thousand clear channel waiting for us this time. -I learned what crossing the Belt really meant, but fast. Swanson and I -sat at the consoles, eyes glued to the screens, sweat oozing off our -ribs. Icy sweat, smelling of fear. - -Clem shuddered and jolted as we slammed her about, twisting and dodging -as those chunks of rock came hurtling at us out of nowhere. Hour after -wrenching hour it continued, until we ached all over from the beating -we were taking. - -We were almost through when the hatch behind us flew open with a crash, -and a screeching, wailing mass of humanity threw itself upon us! In -a flash I knew what had happened. The jolting of the ship must have -knocked the attendant out and the crazy miner had somehow managed to -free himself. He'd found his way to the Control deck, sobbing with -mixed rage and terror. He connected the gyrations of the ship with the -men who were handling her and he was wild with terrified fury. For five -hideous minutes Swanson and I struggled with him, trying to protect -ourselves and at the same time keep Clem away from those ever-present -asteroids that swam continuously into the range of the screens! - -Finally, Swanson got a clear shot at him with one of those ham-like -fists of his and the psycho banged backward across the Control, -his head crashing with sickening force into the sharp edge of the -pressure-suit lockers. He oozed down to the floor-plates like a sack of -wet mush. I knew without touching him that he was dead.... - -But the damage had been done. The ship had blasted around so that she -was slewing sideways to the axis of her trajectory and in no position -to maneuver. I leaped for the firing consoles as I caught sight of a -small asteroid spinning in toward us. I caught the proper key, but I -was too late. There was a rending, tearing crash as the missile sliced -into Clem's flank. The lights flickered and went out, and there was -a whooshing sound as air gushed from the ruptured compartments. The -automatic damage control system cut in then, and there was the sound -of airtight doors banging shut throughout the ship. The glowing meters -on the panels danced crazily, and the power dial's needle banged hard -against the peg and back to zero in one movement. Then there was -silence. Clem was dead in space.... - - * * * * * - -For a few stunned moments Swanson and I sat on the deck staring at one -another. There was an expression of shocked disbelief on the rummy's -face. There was one on mine, too, I know. No matter how many times -you brush with the violent ending, no human mind can accept the true -inevitability of unsolicited death. We can't ever really accept the -fact that "this is it!" Always some corner of our minds keeps thinking -that the end is not yet. - -That's the way it was with us. We simply did not believe the thing -that had happened to us. Our ship was a pierced derelict and we stood -practically no chance of getting through now, but we couldn't accept it. - -A semblance of sanity returned and Swanson dragged two pressure suits -out of the locker. In tight silence we donned them and started for the -locked hatch. I had no idea just how badly Clem was hurt, but hope -always remains after everything else is gone, so I had to find out. - -We forced the hatch and watched the air vanish in an icy cloud down the -dark corridor. The break in the hull was large. I knew, because the -sonar in my suit didn't pick up any hissing. - -The tube-shaft with its precious pile was our objective. If that was -unhurt, there was still a chance. Fortunately we had been almost -through the Belt when the collision came, so except for an occasional -small bit of rock banging against the hull, space around us was clear. - -On the way down toward the shaft we looked in on the medic. He was -dead from asphyxiation, his face blue and bloated with internal -pressure. The psycho had jammed the airtight hatch of their compartment -with a piece of luggage so that the safety device had failed when the -air went. - -We left him there and continued down the companionway. After a bit, -we met three pressure suited figures, and I breathed easier. It was -Holcomb and two of his crew from the shaft. Off watch, they'd been in -the forecastle when the asteroid hit. Now they were trying to force -their way into the shaft through a badly warped and fused hatch. - -From the condition of the walls and deck-plates, I could see that we -must be very near the spot where the missile cut into the ship. And -even out where we were our wrist-geigs were clicking pettishly, showing -that the thing had hit on or at least near the pile. Near enough to -warp the insulating plates. - -I sent Swanson and one of the tubemen down to the equipment locker for -torches, and as soon as they returned, we began cutting into the shaft. -Even with atomic torches it took us a long time, because those walls -were foot-thick leaded steelumin. - -Finally the glowing section of hatch fell away and a wave of vertigo -swept over me. It seemed that I was about to step through the cutaway -into eternity. Close to the hatch was a jagged hole that knifed through -one half the ship's girth from the shaft to free space. It was as -though a mighty hand had punched a steel forefinger halfway through a -cylinder made of butter. The jagged edges of the hole were fused and -melted into grotesque stalactites. And beyond gleamed the stars against -a backdrop of diffuse nebulosity that was the Milky Way. As we watched, -they moved lazily across the irregular patch of sky. Clem was turning -slowly on her axis, one with the mindless drift of the cosmic dust -cloud that was the Belt. - -I stepped through into the shaft. The damage had to be ascertained, for -the three lifeships would never take us all the way into Mars. They -were not atomic and their range was sharply limited ... five hundred -thousand miles at most. - -The remains of the asteroid was a congealed mass filling the lower -end of the shaft, and bits of machinery and shards of plating were -scattered about the deck. The tubemen who had been in the shaft at -the time of collision might have been the charred lumps stuck to the -wallplates ... I didn't want to know. - -The pile itself had been ripped open in one place, and a threatening -glow emanated from the torn place setting our geigs whirring. I knew -we could stand the radiation in small dosages, since our suits were -insulated. But not for long. Repairs had to be made quickly ... if they -could be made at all. - -Using the pieces of plating that lay about, Holcomb, Swanson and I set -about mending the break with the torch. - - * * * * * - -That was the first time I became conscious of the strangeness. Not -many men even today have looked into a plutonium pile. It was eery, -that light within. It was like ... well ... like the essence of life. -Mindless, unknowing, but vibrantly alive beyond any human comparison. - -The break was almost healed when the ... the thing ... happened. I -don't know of any other way to express it. The slow rotation of the -ship brought the hole in her side into line with the Sun ... and for a -long moment the brilliant light burned down on us ... and into the pile. - -In that timeless minute I felt the interplay of forces greater than the -human mind can conceive. The pile and the Sun glared at one another. -There is no other way it can be said. They _looked_ at each other ... -and something happened. The Sun called to that mindless life that was -the essence of Clem ... and she answered! She did! And all the others -felt it too! In that instant the atomic fire in Clem's heart ... that -fire spawned of the Sun ... awoke! And there was _oneness_! - -The sunbeam passed and darkness fell once again in the shaft. All of -us stood about in silence. All of us convinced of what we had seen and -felt, and yet each afraid to give voice to it. Colloidal life is too -vain, somehow, to admit another, more vital sort of life into our neat -little cosmos. Even when the proof of it happens before your eyes, you -pass it off as ... imagination. We did. Or tried. The pile subsided -into a sullen glow, and we pushed the thing from our minds. We had -_seen_ nothing. And men in danger are sometimes confused. That's the -way we rationalized it. - -Quickly, then, we finished the repairs and Holcomb tested for power. -The meter snapped to life eagerly. We had our ship again and we could -proceed. An hour before we had felt doomed, but now Mars and safety -seemed near at hand. - -The passengers, of course, were both dead. Three tubemen had perished -in the shaft. That left six crewmen and three officers. And Clem.... - -We retreated from the shaft because of the radiation that still leaked -through the sprung shielding, and somehow or other all of us managed to -stay out for the next two weeks. - -Living in suits was hard on the nerves. One doesn't often think of all -the inconveniences involved. But having your beard grow in your helmet, -for instance, where you can't get at it to use depilatory, is hard to -take. Even the most elementary body functions become fantastically -complicated. And the result is always shattered nerves. But the -terrific breach in the hull made it necessary. Only the Control deck -was truly airtight after the collision, and the men were quarreling -continuously about who should get the long watches there. Then too, -every time the hatch was opened, new air had to be pumped in and the -pressure tanks were dangerously low. - -That's why we called it imagination born of jangled nerves when we -began to notice a difference in the way the ship handled. There -was a certain recalcitrant sluggishness about her responses to -course corrections, and she showed a marked preference for sunward -trajectories rather than for the hyperbolics I computed Marsward. Yet -we chose to ignore all the symptoms. - -On the fifteenth "day" after the collision, I was in the dorsal blister -checking our position by means of bubble-tetrant and star shots. Mars -already had begun to show a definite disc, and I felt better than I -had in days. My flight of fancy was short-lived. - -Three sights told me that we were off course. Unaccountably, of course, -for we had made no major corrections in the last week. Instead of -pointing at the spot in space where we would intercept Mars, we were -five degrees sunward. - -I triggered my suit radio and called to Swanson in Control. - -"Swanson here, Captain," his voice came back in my ear phones. - -"We are five degrees sunward of our plotted course, Swanson," I said. -"Correct immediately." - -He sounded miffed as he replied: "Mars is right in the crosshairs of -the course-scope, Sir. Right where she's been for the last week...." - -I told him to stand by and checked my star-sights again. I had made -no error. We were a full five degrees off course, and the deviation -was growing larger momentarily. I could easily detect it with my -tetrant out here in the seldom used blister, yet in the course-scope in -Control Mars showed centered in the crosshairs. Why? Even as I asked -myself that question my mind flashed back to the awful moment in the -tube-shaft. Almost wildly, I thrust the thought away from me. Yet if -that _thing_ I had felt really lived and was intelligent ... could it -control the images that showed in instruments that were an integral -part of the ship ... of its own body? Could it control those so that -such an error as this could not be discovered except by the off chance -that someone should make a direct check with star-sights outside the -ship itself? There was a craftiness about the disparity that frightened -me. - -I forced myself to relax and I laughed half-heartedly at my imaginings. -The weeks spent living under trying conditions in a crippled ship had -made me susceptible to vaporings. I gave Swanson the correction again. - -"There must be something wrong with the scope relays, Swanson. Maybe -the jar of the crash bollixed them," I said. "Correct with five point -five to port. Plane is okay." - -"Aye, Sir," grumbled Swanson. - -I laid the tetrant in its rack and turned to leave the blister just as -the ship began to throb under the impact of the correcting thrust from -the nozzles. I glanced back over my shoulder for a last look at the -sky, and.... - -The hair on the nape of my neck stood erect! - - * * * * * - -Instead of correcting the course, the blast had veered Clem's nose a -full ten degrees farther to starboard so that she pointed straight at -the Sun! - -My voice was shaky as I called Control again. "Swanson, you rummy! You -gave her starboard blast instead of port! Damn it man! You've taken us -another ten degrees farther off arc!" - -"But Captain!" protested Swanson, "I gave her what you ordered!" - -"I ordered five point five to port!" I shouted angrily. - -"I _gave_ her five point five to port!" Swanson howled. - -Holcomb cut into the conversation from his metering station near the -shaft. He sounded shaky with fright. "He ... he ... called for five -five ... to port, Captain, and that's what I ... I gave him! But -something's ... wrong! She's not responding." - -"Cut all power!" I ordered sharply. "We'll have to check all the -controls." - -There was a moment of tense silence before Holcomb's voice came back, -more frightened than before. "She won't cut off! I can't kill the -drive! She's got ... the ... bit in her teeth, and...." - -"_Holcomb!_" My voice filled the plexiglas bubble of my helmet. I -was afraid the youngster was going to say the very thing I had been -thinking a few moments before and I didn't want to hear it. - -The physicist subsided for a minute, and Swanson cut in. "Mars shows -properly in the course-scope now, Captain! Way off to one side!" - -Holcomb's laugh made cold chills run up and down my backbone. "She -doesn't care now!" he bubbled. "She doesn't care if we know now ... -because we can't control her! She ... She's going home ... and we can't -stop her!" - -I dove through the blister hatch and ran down the ramp toward the -metering station shouting for Swanson to get into a suit and join me -there. Fear followed me like a writhing black shade down the dark -companionways. I was afraid for Holcomb's mind, and I was afraid of -something else. Something that had no name or shape. I was afraid of -Clem ... of the thing I knew for certain now she had become. - -When I reached Holcomb he was calm. His outburst seemed to have sobered -him, and for that, at least, I could be thankful. - -We waited for Swanson to join us, and then we went into the shaft. -Soberly, we stood near the pile, feeling the strangeness of the alien -life that lived as hellish atomic fire in the shielded tube nearby. -We could feel a probing in our minds, alien fingers fishing about -curiously, but with cautious reserve of ... a precocious child. - -It was Swanson who put it into words finally. Simple, prosaic words. -"The blinkin' can has come alive!" he muttered. That tore it. Swanson -hadn't an imaginative bone in his body, and if _he_ felt it ... it -_was_. - -My mind flashed back across the years to the old man of the Mojave -yards and his stories about living ships. The living thing that was -the Sun, the thing that had given birth to Clem's soul had gleamed in -on that soul through the break in the plates, and in doing that it had -posed on Clem awareness. Awareness that she was part of the mighty life -stream of the cosmos ... part of the living fires of the stars. In a -way that human minds could but dimly grasp, the Sun had spoken to -Clem ... called her. And _this_ was the result.... - -Understand ... there was nothing malign about her ... not just then. -She was almost childlike. Pure, brilliant, willful.... - -We jerry-rigged a control set right there in that shaft, hoping to cut -across the linkages from the top deck; but it was futile. I had the -insane notion that she was laughing at us and our pestering efforts to -re-establish dominance over her. - -We tried withholding fuel, but that was no good. There was enough -plutonium already in the pile to take us across the system. Certainly -enough to take us where she wanted to go. We didn't want to guess about -that! - -Holcomb and I tried slipping the cadmium emergency dampers into the -pile. The first one slipped in easily. But the moment the drop in -activity registered, the second rod fused in the slip shaft. It was -the same with all the rest. We could not insert them. Clem would -not be anesthetized. She was protecting herself ... calmly, almost -reproachfully. I really believe she was learning about men and their -will to command even things they can never really understand. - - * * * * * - -That's the way it went. If the crossing of the Belt had been -nightmarish, the next weeks were insane. Our every attempt to -re-establish control was thwarted easily by the mind in the pile. -Mars fell astern and Clem swung inward toward the Sun. For a while -Terra blazed green and bright off our starboard bow, almost at eastern -quadrature. Then she, too, began to fade behind us as the possessed -ship drove ever Sunward. - -I think we were all a little mad during those terrible days. We lived -with the knowledge that we were helplessly at the mercy of the ship. -Gradually we admitted to ourselves where she was taking us. We realized -where "home" was.... - -We took to sitting dully in the Control room, still clad in suits that -we were too lethargic to remove, and staring at the silvery disc of -Venus that daily grew larger in the forward screens. - -We were sitting so when the tension broke Holcomb. One minute he was as -morosely silent as the rest of us, and the next he had seized a spanner -and burst screaming out of the room. - -His voice was like nothing human. "I won't let her do it!" he was -shrieking. "I won't let her take me!" - -Automatically, the rest of us got to our feet and started after him. -It was as though none of us really cared, but we felt that we should -do something. Just what, no one seemed to have figured out. We clumped -heavily down the companion ways after him toward the open hatch that -led to the tube-shaft. In our helmet radios his voice was a continuous -tinny and distorted harangue. - -"The Sun! The Sun! She's going to it. It called her and she's going to -it! But she won't take me!" and then laughing wildly, the gibbering -mirth of a madman. - -His laughter woke me. "Holcomb!" I yelled, "Come back!" Jammed in the -narrow corridor, we struggled after him. - -"She won't take me! I won't let her take me!" Holcomb was screaming. -"I'll kill her! I'll tear the rotten life out of her! Kill! Kill her!" - -We reached the hatchway in time to see the crazed physicist tearing -at the moorings of the pile with his spanner. Already he had one of -the safety latches loose and was banging furiously at the second. -Instinctively, we reeled back, for our wrist-geigs whirred as deadly -amounts of radiation fanned out from the bent housing. Holcomb, bathed -in a rain of invisible death, was too engrossed in tearing the last -latch free. The latch that would free the pile and send it spilling out -of the nozzles into space. - -Then Clem struck. How can I describe the horror of it? Insensate -metal came to life ... became enraged. And it killed. Deliberately -and without conscience. The overhead crane that carried the plutonium -ingots to the pile moved. It swung its claw down to pick up a sharp -shard of steel that lay on the deck. Like a hand, it picked it up ... -aimed ... struck! - -Edge first, the jagged fragment caught Holcomb across the shoulders, -shearing his slender body in two and leaving the two uneven halves -twitching on the dark floor. An aura of pure, ravening hate filled the -shaft. Clem had showed her teeth. - -Swanson laughed, and the sound chilled me. I knew then that we were -all going mad. The intricate system of checks and balances that nature -built into our brains could not stand another hour of this. - -I slapped Swanson's face with my gloved hand and he stopped laughing, -but his face was a frozen, distorted thing. I knew mine was the same, -for utter terror was choking the breath from me, and I wanted to run -screaming from the terrible hate that filled the shaft and from the -bloody, mangled thing on the deck. - -I managed to make my voice understandable only by biting hard on my -lips until the pain steadied me. I gave the order to abandon ship. With -only a little luck we could make Venusport, but I would have abandoned -ship if we had been halfway between here and Centaurus. - -I divided the men into three groups. Two men and an officer to each -lifeship except the last. Two tubemen alone in that one. I took the -controls of the first one myself after setting the finders of the other -two on my own ship so that I could do the astrogation for all three. -Then without another look at our accursed ship, we slammed out of the -jettisoning valve into free space. - -The cool stars and the nearby silvery disc of Venus calmed me somewhat. -The tremendous vistas of space were something familiar and real. And we -were free.... - -But we had bargained without Clem. The encounter with young Holcomb had -changed her. He had tried to kill her ... tried to sunder her body. The -childish core of her had become that hateful thing we had felt in the -shaft. She had been attacked and her reaction was quick and dreadful. - - * * * * * - -Almost before we were out of her shadow, she turned in an impossibly -short arc and charged us, atomic hell blazing from her tail. Like a -vengeful comet, she sought us out. - -[Illustration: _Like a vengeful comet, she sought us out._] - -I called to the other ships to scatter and they leaped away from us -like arrows. One went up and to starboard, the other went down and to -port. I gave my own tiny boat full throttle and headed straight for the -bright crescent of Venus. - -Clem would not be denied. One of the lifeships was caught in her -tail-flare and I saw it vanish in an incandescent blot as the heat -detonated the tank of monoatomic hydrogen it carried. Debris fanned out -from the scene of the explosion, banging against our ship's flanks. - -And still the infuriated metal monster was not satisfied. She caught -the second lifeship ... Swanson's ... about fifty miles astern of us -and gored it to death with her needle-sharp prow. - -Clem swung in a wide circle and bore down on us. At her speed I knew -she would run us down in seconds, and there was nothing left to do. I -closed my eyes and waited. - -Death did not come. Instead there was a wave of something like -emotion. It was disgust and impatience and sharp command. A -mighty ... _something_ ... was talking ... not to us ... and not in -words or even symbols we could truly understand. But the power of it -was so great that we could catch the overtones, the emotional nuances -that surcharged it. Something was talking to Clem ... commanding her -to forget her childish wrath and ... COME! - -As though jerked around by a cosmic leash, the crazed ship veered -about, her tail-flare blinding us. When we could see again, she was a -spark far Sunward and driving at incredible speed. - -In tight silence, the two crewmen and I watched her for hours until she -vanished into the bright glare of the Sun. After that we followed her -with the radar, eyes intent on the golden blip steadily moving inward -toward the yellow mass of Sol. We drifted in space, just watching and -waiting. And then at last the fleck of golden light blended with the -Sun. - -I knew even as I watched her that she did not die. No. There was -maturity and satisfaction and ineffable pleasure flooding out from the -spot where she vanished ... but no nuance of death! - -We turned away, emptied of emotion or even thought. In a numb trance we -found our way into Venusport. We did not explain. By unspoken consent -we said nothing about the thing we had witnessed. It was too new, too -fresh. And it was too unlike life as we know it. The port authorities -listed us as shipwrecked by collision with an errant asteroid, and we -got passage back to Terra ... and sanity. - -It was a long time before I ventured into space again. And every time -I look up at the Sun I have the feeling that I have seen something no -human should. - -I saw Clem go home. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUNAWAY *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/64602-0.zip b/old/64602-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5e4e85d..0000000 --- a/old/64602-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64602-h.zip b/old/64602-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8cf3fe1..0000000 --- a/old/64602-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64602-h/64602-h.htm b/old/64602-h/64602-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 857908c..0000000 --- a/old/64602-h/64602-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1246 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Runaway, by Alfred Coppel, Jr. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.caption p -{ - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; - margin: 0.25em 0; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.poetry .stanza -{ - margin: 1em auto; -} - -.poetry .verse -{ - padding-left: 3em; -} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Runaway, by Alfred Coppel</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <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: Runaway</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Alfred Coppel</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 20, 2021 [eBook #64602]</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 RUNAWAY ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>RUNAWAY</h1> - -<h2>By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.</h2> - -<p>Ripped by an asteroid stray, the space-ship<br /> -drifted helplessly ... until suddenly, across the<br /> -shuddering deeps, a strange voice called to her.</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Spring 1949.<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>I recall that when I was just a boy hanging around the old Mojave space -yards, there was an old timer there who used to sing an old song. He -learned it from his father and he from his grandfather who used to -prospect for gold in the Death Valley country.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>Oh, my darling, oh my darling,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Oh, my darling Clementine,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>You are lost and gone forever,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Dreadful sorry, Clementine!...</i></div> -</div></div> - -<p>The old timer was really ancient when I knew him, because he could -remember the war with the Federal States that used to be called -Germany and Japan. There was a strangeness about him, or so it seems -to me now. Listening to him sing those pioneer ballads caught at -the imagination and woke dreams. Of course, I was young then, and -impressionable. But his tales were my gospel. There were some among the -yard hands who claimed he was a survivor of the first crew back from -Luna, but that was probably loose talk. In those days every yard had -its "Selenite man."</p> - -<p>It was from him, though, that I heard my first spaceman's yarns. Yarns -about the ships that were built when Venus and Mars were the outposts -of the system ... the frontier.</p> - -<p>He used to tell of the strange ways in which those old ships took on -personality ... character, if you like ... in the eyes of the men -who crewed them. When he spoke I could almost feel the thrill of -those punishing vertical takeoffs, and I could smell the stink of -gasoline and feel the icy nimbus of liquid oxygen. I could feel too -the throbbing of the first crotchety atomics under my feet and the -quivering sense of aliveness it gave....</p> - -<p>Somehow, I don't believe the old man was embroidering fantasies for me. -I think even then he knew.</p> - -<p>I grew older and left Mojave for a dozen berths on as many ships, but I -never forgot the old timer and his stories. And it's odd that the ship -that proved his claims to me should bear the name he used to sing in -that pioneer ballad of his. My first command ... the R. S. Clementine.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I know that you'll not believe what I'm going to say about that ship. -The Spatial Academy had filled you with book-learning and covered you -with gold braid. But it's killed your imagination. Academies have a way -of doing that. To you this will be an old spaceman's shaggy dog story. -But no matter. I know what I know. I was there when Clem was born, and -I watched her as she went home.</p> - -<p>Fortunately, atomic drives are outdated now. The new warships are the -regular thing. Atomics didn't last long, and in a way it's a good -thing. At least no crew will ever have to go through what mine went -through, and no ship turn into a fey thing like Clem did.</p> - -<p>The strange thing about it is that I cared for that ship. I cared for -her from the first moment I saw her lying somnolently among the rusting -hulks in the graveyard near Canalopolis.</p> - -<p>Remember, this was a long time ago. Even then, the old timer of the -Mojave yards must have been fifteen years dead and gone. Canalopolis -was a desert outpost on the edge of Syrtis Major cowering under the -lash of the everlasting sandstorms, but just then it was a boomtown.</p> - -<p>A lot of the vital force had drained away from the urge to colonize -when Mars and Venus had turned out to be so inhospitable. That's -why there were old ships and to spare in the Canalopolis yards. It -looked as though the outward flood of humanity had reached its limit. -The Asteroid Belt made deep space too dangerous to reach for mere -colonization. A catalyst was needed.</p> - -<p>It was supplied when Carvel's exploratory crew reached Europa and found -gold.</p> - -<p>Gold! In the same way that the cry from Sutter's Mill had brought a -flood of new life out to the wilderness that was California centuries -back, so Carvel's news brought men out from Terra to seek their -fortunes in the darkness of deep space ... on that tiny, unknown -worldlet spinning close to the bosom of mighty Jupiter.</p> - -<p>The ink on my Master's ticket was barely dry when I jumped the -Centurion as she dropped gravs at Canalopolis. I was set for a ship of -my own. With a few carefully hoarded dollars in my overalls and a lot -of brass I figured that I could get me a command. A few trips through -the Belt would put me in velvet. Of course, I knew it was dangerous and -uncharted, but the canal city was full of grizzled sourdoughs and eager -youngsters all willing to pay plenty for transport to Europa. I figured -I couldn't miss.</p> - -<p>That's where the R. S. Clementine came in. I bought her with a few -dollars cash and a whole lot of credit. During those hectic days a man -with a space pilot's license and a Master's rating could just about -write his own ticket.</p> - -<p>I signed a note for fifty thousand and took possession of the ship. The -fueling took five thousand ... inerted plutonium came high on Mars, and -the victualling took another two thousand. It didn't bother me. Ink and -paper were cheap enough.</p> - -<p>Then I spent two days rounding up a crew on a share and share alike -basis, and another day lining up fifty passengers at two thousand a -head. I was in business.</p> - -<p>My Second Officer was a grizzled old rum-dum called Swanson. He was -a laconic old soul who loved spacing only a jot better than he loved -Martian alky. But he was a sharp man for the firing consoles; I never -knew a better one.</p> - -<p>I was lucky to get a physicist, too, though it turned out unlucky for -him. He was a green youngster just out of Cal Tech who fell prey to the -gold fever and found himself stranded on Mars a few million miles from -the lode. I talked him into signing on for a minimum of three trips on -the promise that his share of the take would make him a fine grub-stake -out on Europa. When I think of it now, I feel as though I personally -killed him. He didn't want to help crew Clem, but he was on the spot -and I talked him into it. Green as grass he was. But he had brains. -Brains for working atomics ... nothing else. Holcomb, his name was. -I'll never forget it.</p> - -<p>The R. S. Clementine ... it was shortened to Clem even before -takeoff ... was an atomic multiple pulse three hundred footer. The pile -that drove her was housed in a long sheathed tube-shaft that ran from -just aft of the Control deck to the nozzles along her longitudinal -axis. It was an inefficient system, but to me it looked like pure -beauty. After all, she was my first command.</p> - -<p>At 22/30 on 2/13/49 Mars date, we blasted off for Europa with fifty -passengers, nine crewmen and a hold full of mining equipment. In that -three hundred foot hull we were like sardines packed in a can. Sure, it -was profiteering, but have you ever seen prosperity without it?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The trip out was almost too uneventful. We found a clear channel -through the Belt and came through without a change of course. In those -days no one had ever heard of deflectors, and a free passage through -the Belt was a one in a thousand chance. Yet, being young and a bit -cocky, I was willing to attribute it to my own spacemanship. I imagined -that the trip back would be even easier.</p> - -<p>The greeting we got at Europa didn't do much to teach me humility, -either. Not many ships were getting through, and those miners wined and -dined us in true frontier style.</p> - -<p>It took six hours to unload our passengers and their gear, and another -hour to round up a payload for the hop back to Mars. It was mostly ore -and mail, but we did get two passengers.</p> - -<p>We refueled out on the airless, rocky plain that served Europa as -a space yard. Jupiter seemed to fill the sky. Deep space was a new -experience to us and never had we grounded on a planet or moon so near -to so large a primary. There were several cases of vertigo caused by -the crazy feeling that we were upside down when we looked up at that -hellishly big orb in the sky. That was one of the ever-present dangers -on Europa. Enough of it and you found your mind going.</p> - -<p>One passenger was a miner that cracked like that. The other was an -attendant from the Triplanetary Medical Mission that had established a -small base on the moonlet. In other words, his keeper.</p> - -<p>The psycho came aboard in a straight-jacket and a blank bewildered -look twisted his face as he climbed woodenly into the ventral valve. -The attendant didn't look a great deal saner. Still, I was supremely -confident, and my passenger's afflictions didn't worry me at all.</p> - -<p>I was busily counting my imaginary profits as soon as we blasted free. -To say that I was pleased with myself would be an understatement. -Clem sought the sky like the proverbial homesick angel, her atomics -throbbing beautifully under the care of Holcomb and his tube gang. -Swanson and I set her into a hyperbolic trajectory with a couple of -flourishes of the graphites and Jupiter moved into the proper position -dead astern. It was all too easy....</p> - -<p>A week passed before we crossed the outermost periphery of the Belt. -Clem slipped between two small-sized mountains and we were in. For -several hours the screens showed clear sky, and then came the deluge! -There was no one in a thousand clear channel waiting for us this time. -I learned what crossing the Belt really meant, but fast. Swanson and I -sat at the consoles, eyes glued to the screens, sweat oozing off our -ribs. Icy sweat, smelling of fear.</p> - -<p>Clem shuddered and jolted as we slammed her about, twisting and dodging -as those chunks of rock came hurtling at us out of nowhere. Hour after -wrenching hour it continued, until we ached all over from the beating -we were taking.</p> - -<p>We were almost through when the hatch behind us flew open with a crash, -and a screeching, wailing mass of humanity threw itself upon us! In -a flash I knew what had happened. The jolting of the ship must have -knocked the attendant out and the crazy miner had somehow managed to -free himself. He'd found his way to the Control deck, sobbing with -mixed rage and terror. He connected the gyrations of the ship with the -men who were handling her and he was wild with terrified fury. For five -hideous minutes Swanson and I struggled with him, trying to protect -ourselves and at the same time keep Clem away from those ever-present -asteroids that swam continuously into the range of the screens!</p> - -<p>Finally, Swanson got a clear shot at him with one of those ham-like -fists of his and the psycho banged backward across the Control, -his head crashing with sickening force into the sharp edge of the -pressure-suit lockers. He oozed down to the floor-plates like a sack of -wet mush. I knew without touching him that he was dead....</p> - -<p>But the damage had been done. The ship had blasted around so that she -was slewing sideways to the axis of her trajectory and in no position -to maneuver. I leaped for the firing consoles as I caught sight of a -small asteroid spinning in toward us. I caught the proper key, but I -was too late. There was a rending, tearing crash as the missile sliced -into Clem's flank. The lights flickered and went out, and there was -a whooshing sound as air gushed from the ruptured compartments. The -automatic damage control system cut in then, and there was the sound -of airtight doors banging shut throughout the ship. The glowing meters -on the panels danced crazily, and the power dial's needle banged hard -against the peg and back to zero in one movement. Then there was -silence. Clem was dead in space....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For a few stunned moments Swanson and I sat on the deck staring at one -another. There was an expression of shocked disbelief on the rummy's -face. There was one on mine, too, I know. No matter how many times -you brush with the violent ending, no human mind can accept the true -inevitability of unsolicited death. We can't ever really accept the -fact that "this is it!" Always some corner of our minds keeps thinking -that the end is not yet.</p> - -<p>That's the way it was with us. We simply did not believe the thing -that had happened to us. Our ship was a pierced derelict and we stood -practically no chance of getting through now, but we couldn't accept it.</p> - -<p>A semblance of sanity returned and Swanson dragged two pressure suits -out of the locker. In tight silence we donned them and started for the -locked hatch. I had no idea just how badly Clem was hurt, but hope -always remains after everything else is gone, so I had to find out.</p> - -<p>We forced the hatch and watched the air vanish in an icy cloud down the -dark corridor. The break in the hull was large. I knew, because the -sonar in my suit didn't pick up any hissing.</p> - -<p>The tube-shaft with its precious pile was our objective. If that was -unhurt, there was still a chance. Fortunately we had been almost -through the Belt when the collision came, so except for an occasional -small bit of rock banging against the hull, space around us was clear.</p> - -<p>On the way down toward the shaft we looked in on the medic. He was -dead from asphyxiation, his face blue and bloated with internal -pressure. The psycho had jammed the airtight hatch of their compartment -with a piece of luggage so that the safety device had failed when the -air went.</p> - -<p>We left him there and continued down the companionway. After a bit, -we met three pressure suited figures, and I breathed easier. It was -Holcomb and two of his crew from the shaft. Off watch, they'd been in -the forecastle when the asteroid hit. Now they were trying to force -their way into the shaft through a badly warped and fused hatch.</p> - -<p>From the condition of the walls and deck-plates, I could see that we -must be very near the spot where the missile cut into the ship. And -even out where we were our wrist-geigs were clicking pettishly, showing -that the thing had hit on or at least near the pile. Near enough to -warp the insulating plates.</p> - -<p>I sent Swanson and one of the tubemen down to the equipment locker for -torches, and as soon as they returned, we began cutting into the shaft. -Even with atomic torches it took us a long time, because those walls -were foot-thick leaded steelumin.</p> - -<p>Finally the glowing section of hatch fell away and a wave of vertigo -swept over me. It seemed that I was about to step through the cutaway -into eternity. Close to the hatch was a jagged hole that knifed through -one half the ship's girth from the shaft to free space. It was as -though a mighty hand had punched a steel forefinger halfway through a -cylinder made of butter. The jagged edges of the hole were fused and -melted into grotesque stalactites. And beyond gleamed the stars against -a backdrop of diffuse nebulosity that was the Milky Way. As we watched, -they moved lazily across the irregular patch of sky. Clem was turning -slowly on her axis, one with the mindless drift of the cosmic dust -cloud that was the Belt.</p> - -<p>I stepped through into the shaft. The damage had to be ascertained, for -the three lifeships would never take us all the way into Mars. They -were not atomic and their range was sharply limited ... five hundred -thousand miles at most.</p> - -<p>The remains of the asteroid was a congealed mass filling the lower -end of the shaft, and bits of machinery and shards of plating were -scattered about the deck. The tubemen who had been in the shaft at -the time of collision might have been the charred lumps stuck to the -wallplates ... I didn't want to know.</p> - -<p>The pile itself had been ripped open in one place, and a threatening -glow emanated from the torn place setting our geigs whirring. I knew -we could stand the radiation in small dosages, since our suits were -insulated. But not for long. Repairs had to be made quickly ... if they -could be made at all.</p> - -<p>Using the pieces of plating that lay about, Holcomb, Swanson and I set -about mending the break with the torch.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That was the first time I became conscious of the strangeness. Not -many men even today have looked into a plutonium pile. It was eery, -that light within. It was like ... well ... like the essence of life. -Mindless, unknowing, but vibrantly alive beyond any human comparison.</p> - -<p>The break was almost healed when the ... the thing ... happened. I -don't know of any other way to express it. The slow rotation of the -ship brought the hole in her side into line with the Sun ... and for a -long moment the brilliant light burned down on us ... and into the pile.</p> - -<p>In that timeless minute I felt the interplay of forces greater than the -human mind can conceive. The pile and the Sun glared at one another. -There is no other way it can be said. They <i>looked</i> at each other ... -and something happened. The Sun called to that mindless life that was -the essence of Clem ... and she answered! She did! And all the others -felt it too! In that instant the atomic fire in Clem's heart ... that -fire spawned of the Sun ... awoke! And there was <i>oneness</i>!</p> - -<p>The sunbeam passed and darkness fell once again in the shaft. All of -us stood about in silence. All of us convinced of what we had seen and -felt, and yet each afraid to give voice to it. Colloidal life is too -vain, somehow, to admit another, more vital sort of life into our neat -little cosmos. Even when the proof of it happens before your eyes, you -pass it off as ... imagination. We did. Or tried. The pile subsided -into a sullen glow, and we pushed the thing from our minds. We had -<i>seen</i> nothing. And men in danger are sometimes confused. That's the -way we rationalized it.</p> - -<p>Quickly, then, we finished the repairs and Holcomb tested for power. -The meter snapped to life eagerly. We had our ship again and we could -proceed. An hour before we had felt doomed, but now Mars and safety -seemed near at hand.</p> - -<p>The passengers, of course, were both dead. Three tubemen had perished -in the shaft. That left six crewmen and three officers. And Clem....</p> - -<p>We retreated from the shaft because of the radiation that still leaked -through the sprung shielding, and somehow or other all of us managed to -stay out for the next two weeks.</p> - -<p>Living in suits was hard on the nerves. One doesn't often think of all -the inconveniences involved. But having your beard grow in your helmet, -for instance, where you can't get at it to use depilatory, is hard to -take. Even the most elementary body functions become fantastically -complicated. And the result is always shattered nerves. But the -terrific breach in the hull made it necessary. Only the Control deck -was truly airtight after the collision, and the men were quarreling -continuously about who should get the long watches there. Then too, -every time the hatch was opened, new air had to be pumped in and the -pressure tanks were dangerously low.</p> - -<p>That's why we called it imagination born of jangled nerves when we -began to notice a difference in the way the ship handled. There -was a certain recalcitrant sluggishness about her responses to -course corrections, and she showed a marked preference for sunward -trajectories rather than for the hyperbolics I computed Marsward. Yet -we chose to ignore all the symptoms.</p> - -<p>On the fifteenth "day" after the collision, I was in the dorsal blister -checking our position by means of bubble-tetrant and star shots. Mars -already had begun to show a definite disc, and I felt better than I -had in days. My flight of fancy was short-lived.</p> - -<p>Three sights told me that we were off course. Unaccountably, of course, -for we had made no major corrections in the last week. Instead of -pointing at the spot in space where we would intercept Mars, we were -five degrees sunward.</p> - -<p>I triggered my suit radio and called to Swanson in Control.</p> - -<p>"Swanson here, Captain," his voice came back in my ear phones.</p> - -<p>"We are five degrees sunward of our plotted course, Swanson," I said. -"Correct immediately."</p> - -<p>He sounded miffed as he replied: "Mars is right in the crosshairs of -the course-scope, Sir. Right where she's been for the last week...."</p> - -<p>I told him to stand by and checked my star-sights again. I had made -no error. We were a full five degrees off course, and the deviation -was growing larger momentarily. I could easily detect it with my -tetrant out here in the seldom used blister, yet in the course-scope in -Control Mars showed centered in the crosshairs. Why? Even as I asked -myself that question my mind flashed back to the awful moment in the -tube-shaft. Almost wildly, I thrust the thought away from me. Yet if -that <i>thing</i> I had felt really lived and was intelligent ... could it -control the images that showed in instruments that were an integral -part of the ship ... of its own body? Could it control those so that -such an error as this could not be discovered except by the off chance -that someone should make a direct check with star-sights outside the -ship itself? There was a craftiness about the disparity that frightened -me.</p> - -<p>I forced myself to relax and I laughed half-heartedly at my imaginings. -The weeks spent living under trying conditions in a crippled ship had -made me susceptible to vaporings. I gave Swanson the correction again.</p> - -<p>"There must be something wrong with the scope relays, Swanson. Maybe -the jar of the crash bollixed them," I said. "Correct with five point -five to port. Plane is okay."</p> - -<p>"Aye, Sir," grumbled Swanson.</p> - -<p>I laid the tetrant in its rack and turned to leave the blister just as -the ship began to throb under the impact of the correcting thrust from -the nozzles. I glanced back over my shoulder for a last look at the -sky, and....</p> - -<p>The hair on the nape of my neck stood erect!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Instead of correcting the course, the blast had veered Clem's nose a -full ten degrees farther to starboard so that she pointed straight at -the Sun!</p> - -<p>My voice was shaky as I called Control again. "Swanson, you rummy! You -gave her starboard blast instead of port! Damn it man! You've taken us -another ten degrees farther off arc!"</p> - -<p>"But Captain!" protested Swanson, "I gave her what you ordered!"</p> - -<p>"I ordered five point five to port!" I shouted angrily.</p> - -<p>"I <i>gave</i> her five point five to port!" Swanson howled.</p> - -<p>Holcomb cut into the conversation from his metering station near the -shaft. He sounded shaky with fright. "He ... he ... called for five -five ... to port, Captain, and that's what I ... I gave him! But -something's ... wrong! She's not responding."</p> - -<p>"Cut all power!" I ordered sharply. "We'll have to check all the -controls."</p> - -<p>There was a moment of tense silence before Holcomb's voice came back, -more frightened than before. "She won't cut off! I can't kill the -drive! She's got ... the ... bit in her teeth, and...."</p> - -<p>"<i>Holcomb!</i>" My voice filled the plexiglas bubble of my helmet. I -was afraid the youngster was going to say the very thing I had been -thinking a few moments before and I didn't want to hear it.</p> - -<p>The physicist subsided for a minute, and Swanson cut in. "Mars shows -properly in the course-scope now, Captain! Way off to one side!"</p> - -<p>Holcomb's laugh made cold chills run up and down my backbone. "She -doesn't care now!" he bubbled. "She doesn't care if we know now ... -because we can't control her! She ... She's going home ... and we can't -stop her!"</p> - -<p>I dove through the blister hatch and ran down the ramp toward the -metering station shouting for Swanson to get into a suit and join me -there. Fear followed me like a writhing black shade down the dark -companionways. I was afraid for Holcomb's mind, and I was afraid of -something else. Something that had no name or shape. I was afraid of -Clem ... of the thing I knew for certain now she had become.</p> - -<p>When I reached Holcomb he was calm. His outburst seemed to have sobered -him, and for that, at least, I could be thankful.</p> - -<p>We waited for Swanson to join us, and then we went into the shaft. -Soberly, we stood near the pile, feeling the strangeness of the alien -life that lived as hellish atomic fire in the shielded tube nearby. -We could feel a probing in our minds, alien fingers fishing about -curiously, but with cautious reserve of ... a precocious child.</p> - -<p>It was Swanson who put it into words finally. Simple, prosaic words. -"The blinkin' can has come alive!" he muttered. That tore it. Swanson -hadn't an imaginative bone in his body, and if <i>he</i> felt it ... it -<i>was</i>.</p> - -<p>My mind flashed back across the years to the old man of the Mojave -yards and his stories about living ships. The living thing that was -the Sun, the thing that had given birth to Clem's soul had gleamed in -on that soul through the break in the plates, and in doing that it had -posed on Clem awareness. Awareness that she was part of the mighty life -stream of the cosmos ... part of the living fires of the stars. In a -way that human minds could but dimly grasp, the Sun had spoken to -Clem ... called her. And <i>this</i> was the result....</p> - -<p>Understand ... there was nothing malign about her ... not just then. -She was almost childlike. Pure, brilliant, willful....</p> - -<p>We jerry-rigged a control set right there in that shaft, hoping to cut -across the linkages from the top deck; but it was futile. I had the -insane notion that she was laughing at us and our pestering efforts to -re-establish dominance over her.</p> - -<p>We tried withholding fuel, but that was no good. There was enough -plutonium already in the pile to take us across the system. Certainly -enough to take us where she wanted to go. We didn't want to guess about -that!</p> - -<p>Holcomb and I tried slipping the cadmium emergency dampers into the -pile. The first one slipped in easily. But the moment the drop in -activity registered, the second rod fused in the slip shaft. It was -the same with all the rest. We could not insert them. Clem would -not be anesthetized. She was protecting herself ... calmly, almost -reproachfully. I really believe she was learning about men and their -will to command even things they can never really understand.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That's the way it went. If the crossing of the Belt had been -nightmarish, the next weeks were insane. Our every attempt to -re-establish control was thwarted easily by the mind in the pile. -Mars fell astern and Clem swung inward toward the Sun. For a while -Terra blazed green and bright off our starboard bow, almost at eastern -quadrature. Then she, too, began to fade behind us as the possessed -ship drove ever Sunward.</p> - -<p>I think we were all a little mad during those terrible days. We lived -with the knowledge that we were helplessly at the mercy of the ship. -Gradually we admitted to ourselves where she was taking us. We realized -where "home" was....</p> - -<p>We took to sitting dully in the Control room, still clad in suits that -we were too lethargic to remove, and staring at the silvery disc of -Venus that daily grew larger in the forward screens.</p> - -<p>We were sitting so when the tension broke Holcomb. One minute he was as -morosely silent as the rest of us, and the next he had seized a spanner -and burst screaming out of the room.</p> - -<p>His voice was like nothing human. "I won't let her do it!" he was -shrieking. "I won't let her take me!"</p> - -<p>Automatically, the rest of us got to our feet and started after him. -It was as though none of us really cared, but we felt that we should -do something. Just what, no one seemed to have figured out. We clumped -heavily down the companion ways after him toward the open hatch that -led to the tube-shaft. In our helmet radios his voice was a continuous -tinny and distorted harangue.</p> - -<p>"The Sun! The Sun! She's going to it. It called her and she's going to -it! But she won't take me!" and then laughing wildly, the gibbering -mirth of a madman.</p> - -<p>His laughter woke me. "Holcomb!" I yelled, "Come back!" Jammed in the -narrow corridor, we struggled after him.</p> - -<p>"She won't take me! I won't let her take me!" Holcomb was screaming. -"I'll kill her! I'll tear the rotten life out of her! Kill! Kill her!"</p> - -<p>We reached the hatchway in time to see the crazed physicist tearing -at the moorings of the pile with his spanner. Already he had one of -the safety latches loose and was banging furiously at the second. -Instinctively, we reeled back, for our wrist-geigs whirred as deadly -amounts of radiation fanned out from the bent housing. Holcomb, bathed -in a rain of invisible death, was too engrossed in tearing the last -latch free. The latch that would free the pile and send it spilling out -of the nozzles into space.</p> - -<p>Then Clem struck. How can I describe the horror of it? Insensate -metal came to life ... became enraged. And it killed. Deliberately -and without conscience. The overhead crane that carried the plutonium -ingots to the pile moved. It swung its claw down to pick up a sharp -shard of steel that lay on the deck. Like a hand, it picked it up ... -aimed ... struck!</p> - -<p>Edge first, the jagged fragment caught Holcomb across the shoulders, -shearing his slender body in two and leaving the two uneven halves -twitching on the dark floor. An aura of pure, ravening hate filled the -shaft. Clem had showed her teeth.</p> - -<p>Swanson laughed, and the sound chilled me. I knew then that we were -all going mad. The intricate system of checks and balances that nature -built into our brains could not stand another hour of this.</p> - -<p>I slapped Swanson's face with my gloved hand and he stopped laughing, -but his face was a frozen, distorted thing. I knew mine was the same, -for utter terror was choking the breath from me, and I wanted to run -screaming from the terrible hate that filled the shaft and from the -bloody, mangled thing on the deck.</p> - -<p>I managed to make my voice understandable only by biting hard on my -lips until the pain steadied me. I gave the order to abandon ship. With -only a little luck we could make Venusport, but I would have abandoned -ship if we had been halfway between here and Centaurus.</p> - -<p>I divided the men into three groups. Two men and an officer to each -lifeship except the last. Two tubemen alone in that one. I took the -controls of the first one myself after setting the finders of the other -two on my own ship so that I could do the astrogation for all three. -Then without another look at our accursed ship, we slammed out of the -jettisoning valve into free space.</p> - -<p>The cool stars and the nearby silvery disc of Venus calmed me somewhat. -The tremendous vistas of space were something familiar and real. And we -were free....</p> - -<p>But we had bargained without Clem. The encounter with young Holcomb had -changed her. He had tried to kill her ... tried to sunder her body. The -childish core of her had become that hateful thing we had felt in the -shaft. She had been attacked and her reaction was quick and dreadful.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Almost before we were out of her shadow, she turned in an impossibly -short arc and charged us, atomic hell blazing from her tail. Like a -vengeful comet, she sought us out.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> - <div class="caption"> - <p><i>Like a vengeful comet, she sought us out.</i></p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>I called to the other ships to scatter and they leaped away from us -like arrows. One went up and to starboard, the other went down and to -port. I gave my own tiny boat full throttle and headed straight for the -bright crescent of Venus.</p> - -<p>Clem would not be denied. One of the lifeships was caught in her -tail-flare and I saw it vanish in an incandescent blot as the heat -detonated the tank of monoatomic hydrogen it carried. Debris fanned out -from the scene of the explosion, banging against our ship's flanks.</p> - -<p>And still the infuriated metal monster was not satisfied. She caught -the second lifeship ... Swanson's ... about fifty miles astern of us -and gored it to death with her needle-sharp prow.</p> - -<p>Clem swung in a wide circle and bore down on us. At her speed I knew -she would run us down in seconds, and there was nothing left to do. I -closed my eyes and waited.</p> - -<p>Death did not come. Instead there was a wave of something like -emotion. It was disgust and impatience and sharp command. A -mighty ... <i>something</i> ... was talking ... not to us ... and not in -words or even symbols we could truly understand. But the power of it -was so great that we could catch the overtones, the emotional nuances -that surcharged it. Something was talking to Clem ... commanding her -to forget her childish wrath and ... COME!</p> - -<p>As though jerked around by a cosmic leash, the crazed ship veered -about, her tail-flare blinding us. When we could see again, she was a -spark far Sunward and driving at incredible speed.</p> - -<p>In tight silence, the two crewmen and I watched her for hours until she -vanished into the bright glare of the Sun. After that we followed her -with the radar, eyes intent on the golden blip steadily moving inward -toward the yellow mass of Sol. We drifted in space, just watching and -waiting. And then at last the fleck of golden light blended with the -Sun.</p> - -<p>I knew even as I watched her that she did not die. No. There was -maturity and satisfaction and ineffable pleasure flooding out from the -spot where she vanished ... but no nuance of death!</p> - -<p>We turned away, emptied of emotion or even thought. In a numb trance we -found our way into Venusport. We did not explain. By unspoken consent -we said nothing about the thing we had witnessed. It was too new, too -fresh. And it was too unlike life as we know it. The port authorities -listed us as shipwrecked by collision with an errant asteroid, and we -got passage back to Terra ... and sanity.</p> - -<p>It was a long time before I ventured into space again. And every time -I look up at the Sun I have the feeling that I have seen something no -human should.</p> - -<p>I saw Clem go home.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUNAWAY ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<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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