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diff --git a/old/65324-h/65324-h.htm b/old/65324-h/65324-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 8f74310..0000000 --- a/old/65324-h/65324-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1835 +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 The Old Way, by Milton Lesser. - </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; -} - -.poetry .stanza -{ - margin: 1em auto; -} - -.poetry .verse -{ - padding-left: 3em; -} - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Old Way, by Milton Lesser</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: The Old Way</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Milton Lesser</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 12, 2021 [eBook #65324]</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 THE OLD WAY ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>THE OLD WAY</h1> - -<h2>By MILTON LESSER</h2> - -<p>A man could walk around the tiny asteroid<br /> -in the space of a few hours. But Jerry had only<br /> -minutes, to find and use—an invisible weapon!</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy<br /> -November 1951<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>Like I expected, the fairgrounds were crowded with thousands of the -drifter-families waiting for the big blast-off tomorrow. They thronged -about uncertainly, in anxious little knots, chattering friendly, -meaningless things, making fast friends who would be forgotten in the -bustle and competition, after blast-off.</p> - -<p>Gramps stood apart from all this, and when he saw me he came running -through the mob on spindly legs, waving his arms frantically so -that I wouldn't miss him. As if I would. If there was anything more -incongruous here on the Martian landscape, anything that seemed more -out of place than did old Gramps, I didn't see it. Two hundred years -ago in another homestead rush, maybe he would have fit. The only thing -I know about that is what I read in books, but I could picture Gramps -with his battered old corncob pipe and his wizened face, leading a team -of mules or oxen or whatever animals they used.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Jerry," he called. "Hey, kid, I got it!"</p> - -<p>I'm no kid. I'm twenty-seven, six feet two, and I probably weigh twice -as much as Gramps does, wringing wet. But that's the way he was.</p> - -<p>"Where's Clair?" I asked him. I hadn't seen my wife in a month. She had -gone to the Martian Fair with Gramps to put in a bid for one of the old -derelict ships, and now I had come here to join them, with a dime, a -quarter and a crumpled dollar bill hardly filling the emptiness of my -jumper-pocket.</p> - -<p>"That girl!" He whistled. "She's back at the ship now, cleaning and -polishing, putting everything together with spit and string so you -wouldn't know the old Karden Cruiser."</p> - -<p>I felt something gnawing away, deep inside my stomach, and it wasn't -just that I was hungry. "The <i>what</i>?" I demanded.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gramps smiled, and right then I could have seen him rocking on a chair -on a little porch, with a garden full of rose bushes and crab grass. I -could have seen him anyplace but here with Clair and me, on the eve of -the great blast-off for the asteroid belt. "The <i>what</i>?" I said again.</p> - -<p>"The old Karden Cruiser, Jerry. Neat little job. And cheap—they -almost gave it away. You shoulda seen those durned fools. No one else -bid for it, I had it all to myself, first bid."</p> - -<p>I tried to be patient. "You didn't expect anyone else to bid for -<i>that</i>, did you?"</p> - -<p>He had a hurt look on his face. "Why not? A good ship, kid. When I was -your age, younger, I went to Venus on one. I can remember—"</p> - -<p>"That's it," I told him. "Fifty years ago the Karden might have been -a good ship, but not now. Not now, Gramps. It's as obsolete as a -pea-shooter. Will it run?"</p> - -<p>"You're durned tootin' it'll run. What do you think I paid? Go ahead, -guess."</p> - -<p>Something was still gnawing at my stomach. Gramps had had three hundred -dollars to purchase our ship and equipment. You could stretch three -hundred dollars a long way if you bought wisely these days. "You tell -me," I said.</p> - -<p>"Hundred and fifty. 'Nother hundred and a quarter for supplies—"</p> - -<p>There's some old saying about letting old dogs lie or not crying over -spilled milk or some such thing, but anyway, I reminded him, "For -another twenty-five or thirty dollars you could have got a Wilson '13, -maybe even a twelve-bank Carpenter."</p> - -<p>"Couldn't," Gramps said. "Kid, let me tell you, I saw the nicest -<i>gui</i>-tar. One of them old Martian types with eight strings, you know. -Twenty-five bucks...."</p> - -<p>I looked at him a long time without saying anything. When you're down -to just a few dollars in these depression years, everything counts, -every last penny. But my folks had died in the panic and riots of '24 -and Gramps had reared me since almost before the time I could reach the -wart on his knee.</p> - -<p>"Let's go look at our Karden," I said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gramps was beaming proudly. "There she is," he told me. "Section G, Row -14, Ship 7. Beauty, eh?"</p> - -<p>As far as you looked, you couldn't see anything but the old ships, -all lined up, row on row of them. Some glistening with new paint if -they had been bought as early as yesterday and sprayed today, others -still dull and cracked with caked jet-slag and the erosion of a dozen -atmospheres, all with people scurrying in and out of them, getting new -faces and new entrails for blast-off tomorrow.</p> - -<p>The Karden squatted in row 14, a short, stubby grub-like boat whose -jet-slag completely hid the original paint job. But I didn't want to -say another thing about it. I just hoped the Karden could get us where -we were going, even if it burped and hiccupped like a drunken driver -all the way.</p> - -<p>Clair opened the lock and I saw her red hair framed against the dark -interior of the ship, and I hardly remembered Gramps was there. We'd -been married two months, and separated for half that time, with me -getting my last month's paycheck in New York so I'd have money for the -liner-fare to Canal City.</p> - -<p>Clair cried, "Welcome aboard ship. Captain Brooks, wel.... Umm-m, -Captain, that was nice.... Umm-m, again...."</p> - -<p>Gramps coughed. "You two gonna stand there mooning over each other all -afternoon, or do we get some work done?"</p> - -<p>"It's just about all finished," Clair told him. She snuggled up close -once more and then skipped out of my arms, leading us through the lock -and into the Karden.</p> - -<p>It looked more like the inside of a packing crate than a spaceship. -Ideally, the old Kardens were two-man cruisers, at a time when you -strapped yourself into a bunk and just about remained there until you -hit atmosphere. Now Clair had readied three makeshift bunks, and our -supplies stood piled tight against the bulkheads and as high as the -ceiling in several places. I had to take Clair's word that the ship's -old hull was sealed and could be pressurized—there wasn't enough space -for me to see for myself.</p> - -<p>The trip had left me a bit bleary, and Clair, who had worked all day, -yawned a little while she opened a can of beans and bacon for supper. -We sat around against the packing cases and we smoked. Then I checked -a few things which remained to be checked, and I suggested we turn in. -Clair nodded, but Gramps said no, he had a little unfinished business -yet.</p> - -<p>I needed sleep, every bit of it I could get, for the grueling run -tomorrow. I leaned back and stretched out, with my feet sticking out a -good half a foot beyond the edge of the bunk, and then I heard Gramps' -unfinished business.</p> - -<p>The nasal twang of the eight-stringed Martian guitar blended with the -dubious qualities of Gramps' voice:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>He'll hug and he'll kiss you</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>And tell you more lies</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Than the cross ties on the railroad</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Or the stars in the sky....</i></div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At an hour before sunrise we tuned in our radio and heard Governor -Eddington's voice cut through the static. "Ladies and gentlemen," he -said, "it is now exactly fifty-nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds -until blast-off. Let me review the rules for you, to avoid any -unpleasantness later.</p> - -<p>"One. No ship is to leave before the signal. Any ship which does so is -automatically disqualified, and your claim will not be recognized.</p> - -<p>"Two. Any asteroid is fair prey, but the government strongly recommends -that you consider two items. First, those asteroids which lie within -the belt itself and which do not have overly eccentric orbits are -preferable since the government supply ships will visit them much more -frequently. Second, you will benefit by selecting an asteroid with -one or more of the old abandoned mining domes, for two reasons. With -slight repairs you can live within the domes, and also their existence -assures you of profitable mineral material.</p> - -<p>"Three. Vesta, the government base within the Belt, is not to be landed -upon.</p> - -<p>"Four. Each ship is restricted to one asteroid, and once your selection -is made it must be a permanent one.</p> - -<p>"Five. No more than one ship can claim a given asteroid, and the -automatic chronometer within each ship will radio the moment of landing -to Vesta, thus taking care of any priority claims.</p> - -<p>"Six. Claim jumping will be considered by the Federal Worlds Government -as an act of piracy and will be punished accordingly.</p> - -<p>"Seven. In the event that an asteroid is abandoned for any reason, a -new ship may claim it at once, and the departing ship can claim no -other asteroid.</p> - -<p>"If you have any questions, relay them to your Section Official in the -fifty-five minutes which remain. Good luck to all of you...."</p> - -<p>The rules were thorough, all right. This could turn out to be a two-way -proposition which would help both the Government and the families, and -the Government wanted it to be a rousing success. In the first place, -there were literally thousands of families, all waiting tensely for -blast-off. None of them had been earning sufficient income, thanks to -the depression following the final East-West war on Earth, and now it -was hoped that they could earn their keep by mining the asteroids.</p> - -<p>Further, I knew that the Government had been forced to abandon its -mineral deposits on all the asteroids except Vesta, and now it could -use the extra wealth from the silent mines which waited on a thousand -little worlds in deep space between Mars and Jupiter.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I sat smoking cigarette after cigarette, until Clair reminded me that -the supply wasn't infinite. She pored over our charts, studying the -three or four asteroids which had seemed most promising, looking up -with a smile now and then to watch Gramps strum his guitar and sing -about a fly with a blue tail.</p> - -<p>The radio barked, "Three minutes to blast-off!"</p> - -<p>Outside, I could hear the roar of a thousand rocket engines tuning up, -and a shroud of smoke and fire blanketed the field.</p> - -<p>"Two minutes!"</p> - -<p>"Hey, Gramps," I said. "Put down that banjo and strap yourself into a -bunk. We're set to go—"</p> - -<p>"It's a guitar," he told me. "A <i>gui</i>-tar. Okay, kid, plenty of time."</p> - -<p>I stood up and helped Clair into her bunk, kissing her lightly on the -lips. "I'm a little scared," she said.</p> - -<p>"Don't be silly. Nothing to be afraid of, honey." I was glad she -couldn't feel me trembling.</p> - -<p>Gramps was next, and I saw to it that his straps were fastened -properly, then I sat down again in the pilot-chair, buckling a heavy -leather belt across my thighs.</p> - -<p>"Thirty seconds!"</p> - -<p>I remember wondering vaguely if the Karden could get us to the Belt in -one piece, and not hours behind every other ship. Then a shrill whistle -outside was going "beep-beep-beep!" and I pulled the firing lever back -all the way.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I grinned at Clair. "How do you like weighing exactly nothing?"</p> - -<p>"You always told me I was a little too skinny, Captain Brooks, sir!"</p> - -<p>Gramps scowled darkly. "Aw, you two kids are just making fun of the -Karden, that's all. So what if we ain't got any gravity to speak of?"</p> - -<p>The Karden had been built before each ship had its own little gravity -unit, and no one had ever bothered to refit her. Clair had set up the -guide-ropes right after acceleration, and now we floated around the -crammed little cabin of the ship if we weren't careful. I had to admit -Gramps was right, however. A little inconvenience like this didn't -really matter, and the important thing was the fact that I could look -out the port and see all the little motes of the thousand other ships -gleaming in the sunlight like tiny space-born fireflies. The Karden was -definitely holding its own.</p> - -<p>"She's built for speed," Gramps told us. "In the old days there was no -such thing as gravity-equalizers anyhow. This soft new generation...."</p> - -<p>I winked at Clair and said, "Go on. Go play your fiddle, Gramps, and -leave astrogation to the soft new generation."</p> - -<p>"It's a banjo," he said. "I mean a <i>gui</i>-tar!"</p> - -<p>Through the fore-port there was a haze of milky white which in a few -hours would separate out into the thousands of little planetoids, each -a tiny mote following its predestined course around the sun. Actually, -some weren't so small. There was the big bulk of Ceres, with a diameter -close to five-hundred miles, Vesta, and some of the other big babies, -but for the most part the asteroids were tiny cosmic specks, less than -a mile across.</p> - -<p>"Okay," Clair said, "which one?"</p> - -<p>That was a good question. You had to consider several things. First, -some ships sped through space faster than our Karden, and they'd claim -the really first-rate asteroids before we even reached the Belt. Of the -second-raters, you had to consider what sort of mineral deposits they -had, which would be the simplest to mine, and so forth.</p> - -<p>"How's about 4270?" I said.</p> - -<p>She checked the charts. "Ummm-m. Diameter, half a mile. Eccentricity -of orbit, .17. Tilted to the ecliptic, .08. Two deserted mining domes, -excellent condition. High-grade copper ore, no power tools needed. -Sounds swell, Jerry."</p> - -<p>Gramps stopped tuning his guitar. "Copper? Did I hear you say copper?" -He snorted. "In my day men went prospecting for diamonds and other -precious stones. Or for gold or pitchblend...."</p> - -<p>"Ever find any?" I wanted to know.</p> - -<p>"Well, no. But that doesn't mean I couldn't have. I was just too busy -with the women on the outworlds—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I looked at Clair and Clair looked at me. "4270," we said together, and -when Clair checked the charts again she found that its present orbital -position was just a few degrees off to the left.</p> - -<p>"Two hours," I grunted. "Maybe three. If we're lucky, she'll be -deserted...."</p> - -<p>Clair smiled. "Two domes there, Jerry. Hah—a winter home and a summer -home."</p> - -<p>"Ain't no seasons on an asteroid," Gramps said very seriously. "Of -course, if you two kids want, you can have one dome and I can have the -other. Might be a good idea at that."</p> - -<p>Clair told him not to be silly, that we couldn't get along without his -guitar playing anyway, and then I was busy turning us the few degrees -which would bring us into orbital conjunction with 4270. Ahead and all -around us the little sparks which were spaceships fanned out in all -directions, hurtling for their homesteads out here beyond Mars. It was -nice to know that in just a few hours—if luck held—we'd be setting up -home, living in our own place instead of the crowded barracks they set -up for transient workers back on Earth. Nice? Hell, that's all we'd -been thinking about since the announcement came through six months ago.</p> - -<p>You really feel a small turn in an old Karden Cruiser rocketing -outward at top speed. I could feel the gravity slamming me back down -against the right-hand cushions of the pilot-chair, and I heard Gramps -muttering something under his breath. With Clair, he had remained out -of his bunk so that he could watch us blast in toward the asteroid, and -now I could picture each of them grasping stanchions for all they were -worth, peering out of the port.</p> - -<p>I couldn't turn around to watch, of course. This landing on a tiny -asteroid is tricky business. You can't just come in and set her down -as easy as all that, floating in on the cushion of a five-hundred mile -atmosphere.</p> - -<p>The Karden came in slowly, at right angles to the orbit, and I saw that -4270 was an amorphous hunk of greenish rock, craggy and mountainous, if -you call a ponderously turning rough-hewn slab of stone less than three -thousand feet across mountainous.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I worked the studs slowly, feeling the breath go out of my lungs with -each one, and soon we had executed a turn of almost ninety degrees, -with 4270 tumbling along parallel to us now, just a few miles off in -the void. You could feel its weak gravity, tugging like a child's -fingers might tug at your overcoat as you ran in another direction.</p> - -<p>I pulled up all the studs together, and I could breathe again. For a -moment it seemed that 4270 wouldn't be strong enough to grab us and -hold us, to reel us in slowly like a fisherman with a whopper at the -end of his line. But her distance didn't increase, either—and we went -spinning along through the void with her like a lopsided dumbbell, the -tiny planetoid and the smaller Karden.</p> - -<p>Soon 4270 grew in the fore-port, and quite suddenly she wasn't -alongside us any longer, but down below. Every time you come in -for planet-fall you get that sensation, but it never ceases to be -strange—one moment you're heading toward something which is in front -of you, the next you're hurtling down upon it headfirst.</p> - -<p>Only with 4270's light gravity, we didn't exactly hurtle. It was more -like floating, slowly at first and then faster, and then I decided I'd -better give one short blast from our forerockets to brake the fall. -I pressed the stud and waited. There was nothing. Momentarily, the -fore-tubes had jammed. Of all the times....</p> - -<p>I heard Clair calling my name, "Jerry, Jerry!" and then 4270's jagged -tumbling surface expanded up all around us and the planetoid didn't -look so small any more. It looked huge, it could have been Jupiter. -There came a grinding bump, and I thought I could hear my safety strap -snapping. The black-light dials of the instrument panel zoomed up at -me from someplace far beyond 4270, it seemed, and I met them head first -with a hundred rocket tubes snorting inside my skull.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Good morning," Clair said cheerfully.</p> - -<p>"Good <i>what</i>?" I answered, not so cheerful.</p> - -<p>"You slept for twelve hours, so now it's morning."</p> - -<p>"And durn you," Gramps chimed in. "You made one hell of a mess out of -that instrument board. Why don't you be a mite careful...."</p> - -<p>"Hey!" I sat up suddenly, and the pinwheels began to go around in my -head like at the Martian Fair. Only bigger. Brighter. "After that -crash, did the chronometer radio our landing here to Vesta?"</p> - -<p>Clair nodded. "I thought of that. I radioed Vesta for confirmation, and -it came. But right after that the radio went blooie, so now any music -we hear will have to come from Gramps."</p> - -<p>"I can oblige," Gramps said, running for his guitar, but I shook my -head.</p> - -<p>"Hold it! We've got a lot of work to do."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, sure," said Gramps. "Only what did you think we was doing while -you slept peaceful like a baby? We wasn't playing or singing, I'll tell -you that."</p> - -<p>Clair explained, "We were exploring, Jerry, after we made sure you were -all right. We're less than a hundred yards from one of the domes here, -and it looks darned good. Of course, I don't know yet if it can be -pressurized or if there'll be any leaks, but I think we can answer yes -to the first question and no to the second."</p> - -<p>"What about the second dome?"</p> - -<p>"Just about like this one, half a mile around the planet. Living -quarters in both, plenty of abandoned equipment. You also can do open -pit mining until you burrow clean through the planet. Rich lode, too, -I'd say."</p> - -<p>"Good," I told her, and I stood up a bit shakily and took her in my -arms. I kissed her soundly.</p> - -<p>"Jerry. Come on, stop. How can we get any work done this way, Jerry?... -Ooo, Jerry...."</p> - -<p>A few moments later, we all donned our spacesuits.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Effortlessly, we carried great stacks of supplies across 4270's -crumbled, broken surface. The light gravity seemed hardly to exist -at all, and I think I could have lifted the Karden Cruiser bodily -if I desired. We made exactly two trips from the ship to the dome's -airlock, our grav-plates clomping up and down soundlessly under the -space-boots—ordinarily it'd have taken us a whole day to unload the -Karden.</p> - -<p>The horizon was a crazy distorted thing no more than three hundred feet -away, where the planetoid's surface bent away almost at right angles, -and right on the crest against the blackness of the sky rested our -Karden. It looked pretty good on a place which Gramps told me Clair -had called ghastly when they first stepped outside to explore, but the -dome looked even better.</p> - -<p>We stood within the lock now, and with a little squeal of delight which -I picked up over our suit intercoms, Clair ran for one of the dull -metal structures.</p> - -<p>"Look in here," she called back over her shoulder, and I entered -through the doorway just in time to see her unscrewing her helmet.</p> - -<p>I yelled something loud over the intercom, I don't remember what, and -then I flicked off the grav-plate button in the glove of my left hand -and dove at Clair.</p> - -<p>I caught her just above the mid-section and we went down in a heap. I -switched on my grav-plates again.</p> - -<p>"Just to show me how strong you are," she pouted, "you don't have to -come flying through the air and landing on my belly. Lucky you weigh -less than a pound without the grav-plates. Only quit trying to be -funny."</p> - -<p>"Who's trying to be funny? There's only two things wrong with taking -your helmet off now. First, we haven't warmed this place, and you'd -have frozen your pretty little head off in half a minute. Second, -there's less air here than in a vacuum tube, and even after we turn on -the air generators I want to examine the dome for possible leaks before -you go around taking off your helmet. See?"</p> - -<p>"Y-yes." She suddenly looked frightened. "It's just that the place -looks so warm and homey, Jerry."</p> - -<p>It did. We were standing in a foyer and I could see a couple of -bedrooms off on the left, comfortable, all metal and metal fibre -construction. Further down the hall there was a pantry and when Clair -opened the door we found it to be full of canned goods, all glued to -the shelf lightly against the tricks which could be played by the -negligible gravity. Beyond that, we found a first-class, compact -kitchen unit, and you should have seen Clair's eyes light up. If -there's anything that makes a girl sparkle all over, it's the first -sight of a good kitchen over which she's to have domain. You can be -anywhere—New York or here on 4270 or out on Pluto, it wouldn't matter. -She hardly heard a word I said for the next ten minutes, as I patiently -lined up the things we must do first. Three things, primarily. We had -to start the heating units within the dome, do the same for the air -generators, and check the dome itself for any leakage.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gramps took care of items one and two, and I felt an urge to take off -my helmet without checking further. But that was silly. We had played -the game right thus far, and it would be pointless to get into serious -trouble over a thing like that.</p> - -<p>So for the next fifteen minutes, Clair and I just knocked off our -grav-plates and swarmed all over the inside of the dome like a couple -of trained houseflies. From this height I could see almost half way -around my side of the little planet, and Clair's line of vision -probably came close to meeting mine someplace around the equator. And -after a time I was satisfied that my side of the dome couldn't lose as -much as a molecule of air.</p> - -<p>"Tight as a thermos bottle," I called over the intercom. "How's yours, -Clair?"</p> - -<p>Her answer was a scream. It jarred me from my precarious hold on the -under surface of the dome, and I went floating to the ground as light -as a feather.</p> - -<p>Clair still clung up on top yelling so loud that the intercom only -reproduced the sound as garbled noise and static. And I couldn't do -anything but float down slowly, with Gramps motioning me down with his -arms, as if I could do anything to hurry.</p> - -<p>Clair scrambled down her side of the dome and waited there next to -Gramps, hands on hips, looking up at me like a vexed mistress might -look at her lap dog when he didn't come to her call soon enough. But -she looked more composed now, and she took off her helmet. The air -situation, then, was all right, and I unscrewed my own fishbowl and let -it float down beside me.</p> - -<p>The air was a bit musty, but otherwise good, and I judged the -temperature to be about fifty degrees now. Ever strip in mid air? I -peeled off my spacesuit and watched it float down too, agonizingly -slow, and finally I alighted in my leather jumper.</p> - -<p>Clair said, "It's a—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She never finished the sentence. Something jarred the ground under me -like a miniature earthquake, and I sat down hard.</p> - -<p>"A ship," Gramps said. "Clair saw a ship coming in on the other side!"</p> - -<p>"Now it's landed," Clair told us. It wasn't necessary. That jar could -only have been produced by a ship or a man-sized meteor.</p> - -<p>"So what?" I wanted to know. "So someone made a mistake and landed -here. Our claim's already in. When their claim goes through, Vesta'll -tell them."</p> - -<p>"Sure," Gramps brightened.</p> - -<p>Clair smiled too, as if to say, you're right, so what are we worrying -about?</p> - -<p>Only my enthusiasm didn't last long. My reasoning was tilted. It was -warped. Crazy. "Uh-uh," I shook my head. "It isn't as simple as that. -First place, Vesta was supposed to beam a broadcast all over the Belt, -telling who landed where."</p> - -<p>"Hmm-m," Gramps mumbled.</p> - -<p>"Maybe," Clair said. "Maybe. And that ship, Jerry, it was too big. Much -too big to be one of the family ships. One of those long, tapering, -narrow-finned cruisers, brand new."</p> - -<p>I was trying to digest this latest bit of information, when Clair -popped her helmet back on her head and ran for the airlock. I called -to her, but she couldn't hear me—she was going to see just who our -visitors were.</p> - -<p>"Fiery young thing!" Gramps snorted, but I hardly heard him. I -zipped myself inside my suit as fast as I could and started to run -for the lock. Only I didn't. I flew. I had forgotten to snap on the -grav-plates, and once again I had that agonizing sensation of floating -groundward.</p> - -<p>I made it, cursing, then I tore through the lock, in record time. When -I reached the Karden, Clair came darting around its other side and ran -toward me, out of breath, half stumbling. We got back inside the dome, -and I said:</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Jerry. Jerry!"</p> - -<p>"What is it, hon?" Clair got excited easily, but not this way.</p> - -<p>"Some men were out of the ship and I hailed them. Someone shot at me—"</p> - -<p>"<i>What?</i>"</p> - -<p>"Yes! He didn't say a word. He just lifted an ugly-looking gun and -fired. A big column of rock disappeared right next to me, Jerry. -Just like this." She snapped her fingers. "He shot at me with a -disintegrator. A <i>disintegrator</i>, Jerry...."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>I gulped. How would you feel being trapped on a rock less than half a -mile across, without any weapons, with your radio shot to hell, without -enough fuel in your ship to get you half way to any other asteroid, -when you knew that around on the night side were maybe a dozen armed -men, claim jumpers, ready to kill you on sight?</p> - -<p>I gulped again.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Take it easy," Gramps advised us. "Now, just you both relax. There has -to be a way outa this, only we ain't found it yet."</p> - -<p>The only part of his statement I could agree with was the very last, -only I had to admit he had a point there. Just wasn't any use, as -Gramps would say, for Clair and me to go running around like a couple -of chickens without their heads, the way we'd been doing for the past -few hours.</p> - -<p>"Okay," I said. "Let's look at this thing. Let's see exactly where we -stand."</p> - -<p>"More like it," Gramps nodded his head.</p> - -<p>Clair said, "Whoever they are, they landed here illegally. And they -want our copper...."</p> - -<p>I brightened, but only for a moment. "No. I think you're off the beam, -honey. If it's our claim alone they're after, why just this stinking -little asteroid? There are lots bigger and lots richer, yet they chose -this one. They want something else. But what?"</p> - -<p>Clair said we'd come back to that later. "First," she said, "just what -can we expect them to do? I mean now, or in the immediate future."</p> - -<p>I considered. "Well, temporarily at least, they probably won't do a -thing. Or will they?"</p> - -<p>"You're durned right they won't," Gramps said. "They won't bust this -dome up right away to get at us, nossir. First they'll see if they can -get us without doing that."</p> - -<p>It made good sense. Whatever their purpose, both domes could be a -valuable asset, and maybe they'd play with us, cat and mouse, before -they applied the disintegrators to our dome.</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Gramps. "Just like the old days of the East-West war when -it spread out to the planets. An army can't be everyplace at once, -'specially not all over the System. Right?"</p> - -<p>"Right," Clair said, and I nodded.</p> - -<p>"Hey," Gramps suggested, "you don't suppose they are Ruskies, do you?"</p> - -<p>"No," I said, smiling. I reminded him that the war had been over before -I was born.</p> - -<p>"Hmm-m, yes. Did I ever tell you the time I was fighting near Gossena -on Ganymede? I was a foot-soldier, y'know."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He had told us many times and I said so, but he didn't bat an eyelash. -"Anyway," he said, "it was a war of nerves. We tried to scare them, and -they tried to scare us, one way or another, and the side that did the -most scaring won. Us."</p> - -<p>Clair wanted to know what all that had to do with this.</p> - -<p>"Easy, kid. Just hold your horses. These guys on the other side of 4270 -will be using a war of nerves with us, a real simple one. They know -it'll be maybe a month before the government ship comes—"</p> - -<p>"What about the radio?" I said. "Won't they think we called for help?"</p> - -<p>"Nossirree. Not if they're smart. If we did call for help they could -hightail it out of here, pronto. The way Clair describes that ship, -they could beat anything the Government has in the Belt, anything short -of a battle-cruiser, and there ain't none out beyond Mars. No, if -they're smart they'll have to figure that something went wrong with our -radio, or we'd a called for help right away. It's an easy gamble for -them to take—they can always zoom away."</p> - -<p>Everything Gramps had said was beginning to make a lot of good sense, -and I motioned him to continue.</p> - -<p>"Sooo, their war of nerves is easy. They just wait for us to make -the first wrong move, and then they get us. Blop! Real simple with a -disintegrator."</p> - -<p>He wasn't kidding. All you had to do was disintegrate a person, his -ship, his belongings, and you'd have committed a pretty air-tight -murder. Of course, the old legality about a corpse had been chucked out -the window years ago when the first disintegrators were developed, but -in a case like this, the only thing the government would have to go on -was the fact that our landing here on 4270 had been recorded. Not much. -Pitifully inadequate. And I told them that now.</p> - -<p>"Swell," Clair said. "Only please, Jerry, cut it out. You sound like -you're crying at your own funeral. I'm scared...."</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Gramps, "we ain't licked. We'll just have to figure out -a war of nerves just a bit better than theirs. War of nerves, that's -it. I can remember, outside Gossena.... The Ruskies employed Martian -mercenaries, y'know...."</p> - -<p>"That won't be easy," Clair reminded him. "Especially since we don't -even know why that ship came here. We can't even find out."</p> - -<p>I grinned. "Who says we can't?" I picked up my fishbowl helmet and -plopped it ungently over my head.</p> - -<p>"What the heck are you doing?" Clair asked me.</p> - -<p>My voice must have sounded muffled from under the helmet as I said: -"Simple. Our intercom can pick up theirs. As soon as some of them pop -outside their dome and start talking, we'll know."</p> - -<p>That much was true. The intercom could pick up any similar conversation -on the entire tiny planet. It could do that, but it wasn't directional. -In other words, you'd hear voices, all right, only you wouldn't know -where they were coming from. One trouble, however, marred the idea: you -couldn't tell how long it would be before some of our visitors decided -to lift themselves up and venture outside the dome. Might be any time -now, or it might not be for days, or it might be just once, and then -briefly, for as long as it would take them to stroll to our dome, -disintegrate the lock, march through, and turn us into three specks of -molecular dust.</p> - -<p>I sat grimly with the helmet over my head, waiting. All I got was -static.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We took turns, and our hopes for a happy home life out here on 4270 -were shot to hell. One of us would sit listening, head buried in his -helmet, another would bustle about, keeping the functions of the dome -in order, and the third would sleep.</p> - -<p>It was my turn to sleep, and I can remember the beginning of what would -have been a corker of a dream. The visitors in the other spaceship -weren't men at all, but hideous monsters from some nameless extra-Solar -place, trying to decide where in the Solar System they'd like to live. -They seemed ornery enough to decide on crowded Earth.</p> - -<p>I never knew for sure. One of them was breathing down my neck, then -poking me, and I sat up fast. It was Gramps, and he was scowling at me -frantically inside his fishbowl helmet.</p> - -<p>I didn't have to be told. My own helmet sat securely on my shoulders in -a matter of seconds, and I listened. You could hardly tell the voices -apart, but from the conversation you knew that there were two of them.</p> - -<p>"... all over this planetoid. Aw, what's the use? The boss just had a -wrong notion, that's all."</p> - -<p>"I dunno. Can't be sure. This is a small place, yeah: but there's -enough wrinkles and folds to keep you looking for months. We ain't -covered nothing yet. Also, how's about inside the other dome. It -could be there, eh?"</p> - -<p>"Well, it better not be. If those guys in there find it before us...." -I didn't know what "it" was but I liked this voice better. It was -pessimistic, and the more pessimistic our visitors were, the better I'd -like it.</p> - -<p>"No, it ain't in the other dome." The rat, I thought. "It wouldn't be -in either dome, stupid, or the miners here before the depression woulda -found it. I was wrong—it's outside somewhere, all right."</p> - -<p>Clair sat with us now, hunched over elbows on knees, listening through -her own helmet.</p> - -<p>"So we just march around this lousy rock until we find it."</p> - -<p>"Yeah. But take it easy, stupid. It'll be worth it. A weapon like that, -what power...."</p> - -<p>"I don't know. We better find it soon. The wife's in Chawka City on Io, -and there's a damn saloon-keeper there—"</p> - -<p>"Haw, haw, haw! A family man, a regular family man, that's what we -got with us. But don't worry, we'll find it. The Ruskies left that -thing here someplace, and don't worry, we'll get it. The boss ain't no -dodo...."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'd feel a lot better if we got rid of those guys in the other -dome. It'd be a lot safer."</p> - -<p>"Just shut up. When the boss tells us to do something, we'll do it. -Otherwise, stop yammering."</p> - -<p>So our pessimistic friend wanted us dead too? I hoped that his wife -would commit the unpardonable crime with every man-jack in Chawka City. -It would serve the rat right.</p> - -<p>Then there was a lot of garbled static and no more talking. Evidently -the two men had entered their dome again and had removed their helmets. -No more talking, exactly as if they had ceased to exist. And after the -one way contact had been established, it was almost eerie.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gramps was jubilant. "There y'are, kids. Simple as that."</p> - -<p>"As what?" I said.</p> - -<p>"Kid, don't you read your history?"</p> - -<p>"He goes in for lurid novels," Clair said.</p> - -<p>"Waal, it's like this. Right at the end of the war it was rumored the -Ruskies developed a super-duper weapon. Something really hot, that -would make the atom-bomb look like a kid's squirt gun. They didn't have -a chance to use it, and when the war was over they hid it out here in -the Belt somewheres, thinking maybe they'd get another chance. So them -guys think this is the place. Hmm-m, maybe they're right, and if we -could find that weapon before them.... Oh boy!"</p> - -<p>I shook my head. It was a pretty little story, with one major flaw. -"There's no such weapon," I said. "I remember the history part of -it, all right. But I also remember what followed. Government sent -out hundreds of ships, in ten years they combed the Belt. No secret -asteroid. No Ruskie cache. No weapon. No nothing."</p> - -<p>"Well, these guys are looking—"</p> - -<p>I told him, "On Earth, people still look for Captain Kid's treasure, -and for sea serpents, too. They just won't find either. There aren't -any. Nope, Gramps—there's just a lot of copper on this asteroid, -that's all. If we could convince our visitors of that, they'd get out -quick."</p> - -<p>"Well, we can't," Clair said. "You heard those two guys. Their boss is -as sure of finding that weapon here as he's sure of anything."</p> - -<p>I began to smile, and I think I even laughed a little, because they -both looked at me queerly. "That's it," I said.</p> - -<p>"That's what?" Evidently, my enthusiasm had not carried to Clair.</p> - -<p>"The way we'll do it. We'll use Gramps' idea, the war of nerves...."</p> - -<p>"Hot dog!" Gramps purred like an impossibly ancient kitten.</p> - -<p>"We'll agree with them. Okay, there's a weapon here, a pretty awful -thing. We'll talk over our intercom and let them know we know it too."</p> - -<p>"Uh-uh," said Clair, definitely interested. "They'll probably be -listening, just like us. Go on, Jerry, let's hear more."</p> - -<p>"Sure. And we'll go a step further."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I got you!" Gramps cried. "We'll really find the weapon." There just -was no convincing a die-hard romantic who had fought in the last war.</p> - -<p>"Yes and no," I said. "There is no weapon, none here and none anyplace -else in the Belt. <i>Only we'll make believe that we find one.</i> A war of -nerves, Gramps. Maybe we can scare them the hell off this planet."</p> - -<p>"Hmm-m," said Gramps. "I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking."</p> - -<p>Because we all liked the idea, we continued to speak of it for hours, -and this is the way things boiled down.</p> - -<p>Item. It had to be an awful weapon, something that would frighten a -man and make the little hackles stand up on the back of his neck, and -something which apparently could be applied most readily here on 4270. -They were convinced that a weapon did exist, good: they'd believe -almost anything we could concoct.</p> - -<p>Item. This one I didn't like. Since our two talkative friends had -intimated that their boss knew the weapon couldn't be within our dome, -we'd have to go outside for the weapon and let them catch a glimpse or -two of us prowling about. That could be dangerous, because they could -pop us off with their disintegrators any time they got the urge. Which -would probably be as soon as they saw something tangible at which to -fire. We'd have to flit about like shadows. Less than shadows.</p> - -<p>Item. We'd start "broadcasting" to them, and we'd pretend we didn't -know we were doing it. The bigger the lie the better it would sound, -and we'd have to start almost at once. This could be fun.</p> - -<p>Item. We had nothing concretely in mind beyond that. But the important -thing, as Gramps put it, was this: we'd be in the driver's seat, -conducting the war exactly how we wanted, and they'd have to sit around -guessing.</p> - -<p>Gramps was chipper enough to strum a few notes on his guitar.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For three Earth days by the clock in our living quarters, we managed to -stay out of trouble. And I think we were getting somewhere, too. Gramps -would go outside with Clair, poking around amid the rubble, talking -about how close they were coming. Then they'd let themselves be seen, -just for the briefest moment, and they'd scoot back inside our dome, -fast.</p> - -<p>Probably, it was pretty safe at that. We could tell from what they said -via intercom that our visitors were interested. And, if they thought we -knew something, they'd be in no hurry to kill us. At the most, they'd -want to take us alive and see what they could learn.</p> - -<p>Gramps and Clair were outside, talking, and as I listened, I got -an idea. If I went outside, too, our enemy would be confused into -believing there were more of us. I could invent a few new voices and -a few names and they might be led to believe we had a whole army here -with us. So what if our ship was small? This could have been the last -of several trips....</p> - -<p>"Confuse 'em," Gramps had said once. "Get 'em on the ground and tramp -all over 'em with a war of nerves. Bury 'em under a pack of terrible -lies, that's what." I'd do it.</p> - -<p>I stood atop a pinnacle of rock and made myself look busy. If they had -any lookouts perched high within their dome, they wouldn't miss seeing -me, and I was gambling everything on the fact that they wouldn't shoot -because they wanted to learn something from us.</p> - -<p>Then I popped behind my pinnacle of rock, out of their range of vision, -and I hauled myself up the other side. I did this a few times, and -they probably thought half a dozen of us swarmed all over the rock, -exploring.</p> - -<p>I said, "If this ain't the place, I'll eat my hat."</p> - -<p>"Can't tell, George," I said in a higher voice. "Might be. Might not. -But we're getting close, that's for sure. Good thing we found those old -Ruskie charts."</p> - -<p>Oh, I was having a glorious time. I said, for George, "We could blast -those other guys out of their dome any time we want. So why are we -waiting?"</p> - -<p>I was getting cocky, and I used a deep bass this time. "You know the -chief wants to have some fun with that weapon. 'No place better to try -it,' he told me, 'than on our friends over there.' Just wait."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>An inspiration hit me, all at once. I had our weapon. "Yeah," this -was my George voice again, "but what an awful way to die. I wonder if -those charts are really true; you press a button, and anyone around who -happens to be in contact with iron or steel just gets broiled alive."</p> - -<p>I poured it on in my middle-sized voice. "That's it, okay. The charts -wouldn't lie. Can you imagine what those Ruskies could have done with -that in the War?"</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh. That woulda hit everyone. You carry a blaster, it's steel. -Disintegrator, too. Wear a spacesuit, you also get broiled. Go near a -radio, same thing. Man, it scares you: hope the chief knows what he's -doing."</p> - -<p>"He knows," my good new friend George said, and because I figured -they had heard enough for now of my terribly selective yet horribly -universal weapon, I marched off my pinnacle and made my way back over -the rubble toward our dome. I chuckled softly to myself. Clair and -Gramps had doubtlessly heard of my new weapon via their intercoms, and -I thought they'd be mightily pleased. It had infinite possibilities in -this war of nerves.</p> - -<p>They were waiting for me outside the dome-lock, and I thought that was -funny because I had expected to find them within the dome.</p> - -<p>And then I ran. One, two, three figures stood within the dome, staring -out solemnly at Gramps and Clair. I reached them and I tried the lock. -I didn't have to—I don't think I could have entered with a blow torch.</p> - -<p>I looked at Clair and Clair looked at me, and then we both looked at -Gramps. He shrugged eloquently enough, and after taking one last angry -look at the three men within our dome, we turned and walked away. The -angry looks made them smile, as we left one of them even thumbed his -nose at us. That gesture, too, was eloquent. It said, <i>suckers!</i></p> - -<p>We retreated to the base of my pinnacle of rock, where we couldn't be -seen from either dome. What had happened was simple. In my enthusiasm -I had left our dome deserted, and apparently our trio of friends back -there had found it that way. The dome-locks, of course, are manipulated -from within, and there's no way to secure them from the outside. So the -trio had walked in, closed the lock behind them, and we were stuck out -on the cold, dark, airless surface of 4270.</p> - -<p>I tried to scratch my head and nearly succeeded in cracking my helmet -with a leatheroid glove. Gramps and Clair had gone out before me: they -had perhaps an hour's air supply left. Maybe I had three, with luck.</p> - -<p>The Karden didn't have enough air within its old hulk now to satisfy a -lungfish in suspended animation, and by the time we could get its old -generators working again, we'd be three asphyxiated corpses.</p> - -<p>So, we could do two things. We could wait out in the open like sitting -ducks and wait for the unknown enemy to take us, or we could just sit -here near our pinnacle of rock and suffocate.</p> - -<p>I cursed myself soundly, but I stopped and tried to comfort her when I -saw that Clair was crying. It isn't easy, not through a spacesuit and -not when you think you'll be dead in not much more than minutes.</p> - -<p>Gramps felt the fear too, he was muttering to himself. Clair murmured. -"Jerry.... Oh, Jerry ... I don't want to die!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I had to think fast. I had to think faster than I ever thought in my -life, and generally I like to explore my way around a problem, looking -at it from all angles. But the air left for Gramps and Clair could be -measured in minutes now, and mine wasn't much more.</p> - -<p>I said, "What are you worrying about? George and Harry and the other -boys will have that thing rigged up in a couple of hours, sure. We'll -give those guys in both domes a little bit of hell. Won't be a one left -alive." I tried to make the butterflies remain in my stomach, to have -them go anyplace but in my voice. It almost didn't work.</p> - -<p>Clair and Gramps looked at me like I might be crazy or something, and I -raised a gloved finger up and tried to line it up in front of my mouth -to tell them to shut up.</p> - -<p>Gramps said, "George and Harry?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. They found it half an hour ago, and now they're setting it -up. Just a matter of time, so relax."</p> - -<p>I squatted down on my hands and knees, making the gesture for silence -again. I found a jagged little rock and started to trace lines in the -powdery pumice. It was messy, but they could understand it. I wrote:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>GO TO THEIR OLD DOME AND GIVE UP. YOUR AIR WONT LAST. THEY WON'T KILL. -SCARED. QUESTION YOU ABOUT WEAPON. REMEMBER WHAT GEORGE & HARRY SAID -ABOUT WEAPON BEFORE, BUT PLAY A LITTLE DUMB. LEAVE REST TO ME.</p></div> - -<p>I waited while I saw them reading it, then I rubbed it out. Clair shook -her head. Her eyes told me plainly enough that she didn't want to die, -but that she'd rather die out here with me than otherwise.</p> - -<p>Gramps looked like he would rather be sitting someplace comfortable -with his guitar, but he was trying to smile a little.</p> - -<p>I crouched and wrote again, just three words:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>PLEASE GO. NOW.</p></div> - -<p>I erased the line with my boots and I waited, then I turned around -for a long time and didn't look back at them. When I did, they were -two tiny figures on the twisted, broken landscape, walking toward the -second dome.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For a while I waited, and then I swarmed all over my pinnacle again, -like George and Harry and anyone else who might have been around. They -could come and get me, of course, but I figured they wouldn't. Then -they might never find the weapon. That was their dilemma, not mine. -Mine was to do something along the lines of Gramps' war of nerves, and -do something good, before my air ran out.</p> - -<p>I said, "Watch it, George. Take it easy. Don't you think the chief -ought to be around before you try anything?"</p> - -<p>I climbed off the pinnacle so no one could see me. "Naw," I made George -say. "I know what I'm doing. F'r gosh sakes, what could happen? I got -the charts right here. I wanta hurry and get back to the wife in Canal -City. Some damn bus driver...." I'd make it sound like their own story, -and maybe they'd believe.</p> - -<p>"Well, okay," my Harry said dubiously.</p> - -<p>George sighed. "There. That does it. Now—watch."</p> - -<p>Silence. I watched thirty seconds tick off on my suit clock, then I -made Harry scream:</p> - -<p>"George! Good God, George.... Arrgh!"</p> - -<p>I hoped the scream was a good one. Honest, it almost scared me. Poor -George and Harry: I had killed them off quick enough. Now I had to -invent new characters. For a brief moment I wondered what had happened -to Clair and Gramps, but then I pushed them out of my mind. I couldn't -afford to think of that now.</p> - -<p>I let six minutes pass. It was agonizing, but I did it. Then I did my -best to invent two new voices.</p> - -<p>"So, here's the spot, Mike. Funny, I don't see them."</p> - -<p>Mike had a high, squeaky voice. "Hah-hah, don't worry, chief. They'll -be around."</p> - -<p>"I don't find your humor amusing. So—Mike. Mike! Look...."</p> - -<p>I let my voice trail off. If this wasn't so damned serious, it could -have been amusing. I was really living the part.</p> - -<p>Mike said: "God, chief, both of 'em. Shrivelled up like that, burned to -a crisp. Chief—"</p> - -<p>"What can you do? I told them not to play games with it until I came, -and they just didn't know how to work the damper. Fools, they could -have killed us all. Well, suppose we take care of those people in the -domes."</p> - -<p>"You mean like this, chief?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly, like this. No one asked them to butt in here."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I didn't say anything else for a while. I could feel myself sweating -under the helmet, and momentarily, at least, I had run out of things to -say.</p> - -<p>Someone else came to my rescue. For the first time, one of the other -party attempted direct intercom communication.</p> - -<p>"Hey you out there," a voice said. "This is Reardon, in charge of this -outfit." He sounded afraid. "Lay off or we'll blast these two prisoners -I got...."</p> - -<p>"You're telling me to lay off?" I demanded, trying to think of -something to say. "You're telling me to lay off? That's rich."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" The voice was still frightened, and I began to feel -a little better. They had fallen for this so far all the way.</p> - -<p>"What do I care what you do to those two? They're a couple of -homesteaders who happened to barge in here, an old man and a girl. Go -ahead, kill 'em. What's the difference, you'll follow in a couple of -minutes."</p> - -<p>That got him. "Wait," he said. "Hold it, please."</p> - -<p>I yawned, loud enough for the intercom to pick it up. I hoped I -wasn't overdoing it. "Mike," I drawled, "set that thing up so we can -finish the job and get out of here, eh? Now, be careful. Connect that -dampening rig like that, that's it. Careful. Just make sure the pole -fits into that hole real snug. There you are. You did it...."</p> - -<p>"You <i>sure</i> you wanta use this thing on them, chief?" I had Mike say.</p> - -<p>"Why in hell not? Come on. Now!"</p> - -<p>The voice over the intercom was almost a shriek. "Stop! For the love -of heaven please stop! Cut it out, please. Don't roast us. We give up! -We—"</p> - -<p>I said, "Who cares if you give up or not? I just want to try out my -weapon. No one asked you to poke your nose in here like this. You hear -him, Mike? He gives up. That's funny."</p> - -<p>Mike said, "It ain't so funny. If they give up, I say let 'em go. Hell, -they won't give you any more trouble, chief."</p> - -<p>The frightened voice was pleading now. "Listen to him, friend. Go -ahead, listen. We give up, see? We're harmless. We'll go away. -Anything. The weapon's all yours...."</p> - -<p>"Well—"</p> - -<p>"Go ahead, chief," Mike said.</p> - -<p>"Umm-m. Well, okay. Hey you guys! All of you get into one dome, fast, -and throw every gun you have outside. Your spacesuits, too. You'd -better, because I don't exactly trust you. I'm going to give you five -minutes and then I'm going to turn this thing on. Anyone has an ounce -of iron or steel on him, he'll be broiled."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I waited, atop my pinnacle. I saw three figures running from the -direction of our original dome, heading for the other one. In a moment, -they disappeared over the close, jagged horizon. I said:</p> - -<p>"That's about enough time, Mike. Turn it on."</p> - -<p>I swaggered across the rubble-strewn asteroid. As I approached the -dome I began to feel nervous, but I didn't stop my swaggering. Outside -was a great pile of disintegrators, blasters, and heaters, plus a -dozen spacesuits, assorted knives, pens, pencils, coins, pots, pans, -flashlights, all sorts of tools—even a heap of leatheroid jumpers, -because someone must have realized the stitching was of steelite fibre, -which it was.</p> - -<p>I picked up a couple of the heaters and tried the outer airlock door. -It swung in easily.</p> - -<p>I stood inside the dome with my two heaters and the reaction set in. -I started to laugh. A dozen big strong men sat about, half naked and -afraid in their underwear, and over in a corner stood Gramps and Clair, -also down to their scanties.</p> - -<p>The biggest of the twelve men said, "I'm Reardon. Thank you. Thank you, -sir...."</p> - -<p>"Shut up," I told him. I waved my heater and he shut up.</p> - -<p>"We've had to do it, too," Clair said, running into my arms, pulling -off my helmet and kissing me. I threw one of the heaters to Gramps, -and Clair was speaking again, "I almost laughed and spoiled the whole -thing, but Gramps and I took off our jumpers, too, to make it look -good. In fact, Gramps gave them the idea."</p> - -<p>Good old Gramps....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gramps donned his spacesuit and so did Clair, and Reardon, still not -comprehending, mumbled his thanks. I explored the inside of the dome -thoroughly, making sure there were no hidden weapons. Then I stepped -through the lock with Clair and Gramps, and I closed the outer door. I -notched my heater to low intensity and fused the door and the dome into -one piece. They'd need a heater or a disintegrator to get out, and -they didn't have either.</p> - -<p>Clair was smiling happily, now. But Gramps had a frown on his face.</p> - -<p>"So what do we do with 'em?"</p> - -<p>"Simple," I replied. "We wait for the government ship. It'll be here in -a few weeks. They're not going anywhere in the meantime."</p> - -<p>Gramps continued to frown. "You think we oughta report what they was -lookin' for? The Ruskie weapon, I mean...."</p> - -<p>I laughed. "That won't be necessary, Gramps. We'll do even better than -that. We'll tell them what the weapon is."</p> - -<p>Clair looked at me dumbfounded and I found myself grinning at both her -and Gramps.</p> - -<p>"Jerry! You can't be serious—we didn't really find the weapon!"</p> - -<p>"We not only found it, we used it, hon," I told her. "I did some fast -thinking while I was up on the rocks before. In a way I was in the -same boat the Ruskies were when we beat them. I had to use desperate -means—anything I could, and mainly something that would start fear, a -panic...."</p> - -<p>"But I don't see—" Clair was confused.</p> - -<p>"The Ruskies had a powerful weapon, all right," I replied. "The only -trouble was they used it too late. Fortunately for us we still had -time—and our opponents weren't too bright mentally anyway. If they -had been it might not have worked. Matter of fact, that's the big -thing that licked the Ruskies. We were a bit too shrewd for them. Our -military leaders saw right through their weapon."</p> - -<p>Gramps stamped his foot angrily. "Now look here, Jerry! Stop ramblin' -around like that! Just what weapon you talkin' about?"</p> - -<p>"Propaganda, Gramps. Propaganda, the greatest weapon in the -universe—if used right. Now what do you say we get down to work and -mine some copper?"</p> - -<p>We were all laughing as we made our way to the other dome.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OLD WAY ***</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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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