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diff --git a/24135.txt b/24135.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a63a44c --- /dev/null +++ b/24135.txt @@ -0,0 +1,930 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Measure of a Man, by Randall Garrett, +Illustrated by Martinez + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + + + + +Title: The Measure of a Man + + +Author: Randall Garrett + + + +Release Date: January 3, 2008 [eBook #24135] +Most recently updated: January 14, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEASURE OF A MAN*** + + +E-text prepared by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan, and the +Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team +(https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 24135-h.htm or 24135-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/1/3/24135/24135-h/24135-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/1/3/24135/24135-h.zip) + + +Transcriber's note: + + This etext was produced from _Astounding Science Fiction_, + April, 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence + that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + + + +THE MEASURE OF A MAN + +by + +RANDALL GARRETT + +Illustrated by Martinez + + + + + + + + _What is desirable is not always necessary, while that which is + necessary may be most undesirable. Perhaps the measure of a man is + the ability to tell one from the other ... and act on it._ + + + + +Alfred Pendray pushed himself along the corridor of the battleship +_Shane_, holding the flashlight in one hand and using the other hand and +his good leg to guide and propel himself by. The beam of the torch +reflected queerly from the pastel green walls of the corridor, giving +him the uneasy sensation that he was swimming underwater instead of +moving through the blasted hulk of a battleship, a thousand light-years +from home. + +He came to the turn in the corridor, and tried to move to the right, but +his momentum was greater than he had thought, and he had to grab the +corner of the wall to keep from going on by. That swung him around, and +his sprained ankle slammed agonizingly against the other side of the +passageway. + +Pendray clenched his teeth and kept going. But as he moved down the side +passage, he went more slowly, so that the friction of his palm against +the wall could be used as a brake. + +He wasn't used to maneuvering without gravity; he'd been taught it in +Cadets, of course, but that was years ago and parsecs away. When the +pseudograv generators had gone out, he'd retched all over the place, but +now his stomach was empty, and the nausea had gone. + +He had automatically oriented himself in the corridors so that the doors +of the various compartments were to his left and right, with the ceiling +"above" and the deck "below." Otherwise, he might have lost his sense of +direction completely in the complex maze of the interstellar +battleship. + +_Or_, he corrected himself, _what's left of a battleship_. + +And what _was_ left? Just Al Pendray and less than half of the +once-mighty _Shane_. + +The door to the lifeboat hold loomed ahead in the beam of the +flashlight, and Pendray braked himself to a stop. He just looked at the +dogged port for a few seconds. + +_Let there be a boat in there_, he thought. _Just a boat, that's all I +ask. And air_, he added as an afterthought. Then his hand went out to +the dog handle and turned. + +The door cracked easily. There was air on the other side. Pendray +breathed a sigh of relief, braced his good foot against the wall, and +pulled the door open. + +The little lifeboat was there, nestled tightly in her cradle. For the +first time since the _Shane_ had been hit, Pendray's face broke into a +broad smile. The fear that had been within him faded a little, and the +darkness of the crippled ship seemed to be lessened. + +Then the beam of his torch caught the little red tag on the air lock of +the lifeboat. _Repair Work Under Way--Do Not Remove This Tag Without +Proper Authority._ + +That explained why the lifeboat hadn't been used by the other crewmen. + +Pendray's mind was numb as he opened the air lock of the small craft. He +didn't even attempt to think. All he wanted was to see exactly how the +vessel had been disabled by the repair crew. He went inside. + +The lights were working in the lifeboat. That showed that its power was +still functioning. He glanced over the instrument-and-control panels. No +red tags on them, at least. Just to make sure, he opened them up, one by +one, and looked inside. Nothing wrong, apparently. + +Maybe it had just been some minor repair--a broken lighting switch or +something. But he didn't dare hope yet. + +He went through the door in the tiny cabin that led to the engine +compartment, and he saw what the trouble was. + +The shielding had been removed from the atomic motors. + +He just hung there in the air, not moving. His lean, dark face remained +expressionless, but tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over, +spreading their dampness over his lids. + +The motors would run, all right. The ship could take him to Earth. But +the radiation leakage from those motors would kill him long before he +made it home. It would take ten days to make it back to base, and +twenty-four hours of exposure to the deadly radiation from those engines +would be enough to insure his death from radiation sickness. + +His eyes were blurring from the film of tears that covered them; without +gravity to move the liquid, it just pooled there, distorting his vision. +He blinked the tears away, then wiped his face with his free hand. + +Now what? + +He was the only man left alive on the _Shane_, and none of the lifeboats +had escaped. The Rat cruisers had seen to that. + + * * * * * + +They weren't really rats, those people. Not literally. They looked +humanoid enough to enable plastic surgeons to disguise a human being as +one of them, although it meant sacrificing the little fingers and little +toes to imitate the four-digited Rats. The Rats were at a disadvantage +there; they couldn't add any fingers. But the Rats had other +advantages--they bred and fought like, well, like rats. + +Not that human beings couldn't equal them or even surpass them in +ferocity, if necessary. But the Rats had nearly a thousand years of +progress over Earth. Their Industrial Revolution had occurred while the +Angles and the Saxons and the Jutes were pushing the Britons into Wales. +They had put their first artificial satellites into orbit while King +Alfred the Great was fighting off the Danes. + +They hadn't developed as rapidly as Man had. It took them roughly twice +as long to go from one step to the next, so that their actual +superiority was only a matter of five hundred years, and Man was +catching up rapidly. Unfortunately, Man hadn't caught up yet. + +The first meeting of the two races had taken place in interstellar +space, and had seemed friendly enough. Two ships had come within +detector distance of each other, and had circled warily. It was almost a +perfect example of the Leinster Hypothesis; neither knew where the +other's home world was located, and neither could go back home for fear +that the other would be able to follow. But the Leinster Hypothesis +couldn't be followed to the end. Leinster's solution had been to have +the parties trade ships and go home, but that only works when the two +civilizations are fairly close in technological development. The Rats +certainly weren't going to trade their ship for the inferior craft of +the Earthmen. + +The Rats, conscious of their superiority, had a simpler solution. They +were certain, after a while, that Earth posed no threat to them, so they +invited the Earth ship to follow them home. + +The Earthmen had been taken on a carefully conducted tour of the Rats' +home planet, and the captain of the Earth ship--who had gone down in +history as "Sucker" Johnston--was convinced that the Rats meant no harm, +and agreed to lead a Rat ship back to Earth. If the Rats had struck +then, there would never have been a Rat-Human War. It would have been +over before it started. + +But the Rats were too proud of their superiority. Earth was too far away +to bother them for the moment; it wasn't in their line of conquest just +yet. In another fifty years, the planet would be ready for picking off. + +Earth had no idea that the Rats were so widespread. They had taken and +colonized over thirty planets, completely destroying the indigenous +intelligent races that had existed on five of them. + +It wasn't just pride that had made the Rats decide to wait before +hitting Earth; there was a certain amount of prudence, too. None of the +other races they had met had developed space travel; the Earthmen might +be a little tougher to beat. Not that there was any doubt of the +outcome, as far as they were concerned--but why take chances? + +But, while the Rats had fooled "Sucker" Johnston and some of his +officers, the majority of the crew knew better. Rat crewmen were little +short of slaves, and the Rats made the mistake of assuming that the +Earth crewmen were the same. They hadn't tried to impress the crewmen as +they had the officers. When the interrogation officers on Earth +questioned the crew of the Earth ship, they, too, became suspicious. +Johnston's optimistic attitude just didn't jibe with the facts. + +So, while the Rat officers were having the red carpet rolled out for +them, Earth Intelligence went to work. Several presumably awe-stricken +men were allowed to take a conducted tour of the Rat ship. After all, +why not? The Twentieth Century Russians probably wouldn't have minded +showing their rocket plants to an American of Captain John Smith's time, +either. + +But there's a difference. Earth's government knew Earth was being +threatened, and they knew they had to get as many facts as they could. +They were also aware of the fact that if you know a thing _can_ be done, +then you will eventually find a way to do it. + +During the next fifty years, Earth learned more than it had during the +previous hundred. The race expanded, secretly, moving out to other +planets in that sector of the galaxy. And they worked to catch up with +the Rats. + +They didn't make it, of course. When, after fifty years of presumably +peaceful--but highly limited--contact, the Rats hit Earth, they found +out one thing. That the mass and energy of a planet armed with the +proper weapons can not be out-classed by any conceivable concentration +of spaceships. + +Throwing rocks at an army armed with machine guns may seem futile, but +if you hit them with an avalanche, they'll go under. The Rats lost +three-quarters of their fleet to planet-based guns and had to go home to +bandage their wounds. + +The only trouble was that Earth couldn't counterattack. Their ships were +still out-classed by those of the Rats. And the Rats, their racial pride +badly stung, were determined to wipe out Man, to erase the stain on +their honor wherever Man could be found. Somehow, some way, they must +destroy Earth. + +And now, Al Pendray thought bitterly, they would do it. + + * * * * * + +The _Shane_ had sneaked in past Rat patrols to pick up a spy on one of +the outlying Rat planets, a man who'd spent five years playing the part +of a Rat slave, trying to get information on their activities there. And +he had had one vital bit of knowledge. He'd found it and held on to it +for over three years, until the time came for the rendezvous. + +The rendezvous had almost come too late. The Rats had developed a device +that could make a star temporarily unstable, and they were ready to use +it on Sol. + +The _Shane_ had managed to get off-planet with the spy, but they'd been +spotted in spite of the detector nullifiers that Earth had developed. +They'd been jumped by Rat cruisers and blasted by the superior Rat +weapons. The lifeboats had been picked out of space, one by one, as the +crew tried to get away. + +In a way, Alfred Pendray was lucky. He'd been in the sick bay with a +sprained ankle when the Rats hit, sitting in the X-ray room. The shot +that had knocked out the port engine had knocked him unconscious, but +the shielded walls of the X-ray room had saved him from the blast of +radiation that had cut down the crew in the rear of the ship. He'd come +to in time to see the Rat cruisers cut up the lifeboats before they +could get well away from the ship. They'd taken a couple of parting +shots at the dead hulk, and then left it to drift in space--and leaving +one man alive. + +In the small section near the rear of the ship, there were still +compartments that were airtight. At least, Pendray decided, there was +enough air to keep him alive for a while. If only he could get a little +power into the ship, he could get the rear air purifiers to working. + +He left the lifeboat and closed the door behind him. There was no point +in worrying about a boat he couldn't use. + +He made his way back toward the engine room. Maybe there was something +salvageable there. Swimming through the corridors was becoming easier +with practice; his Cadet training was coming back to him. + +Then he got a shock that almost made him faint. The beam of his light +had fallen full on the face of a Rat. It took him several seconds to +realize that the Rat was dead, and several more to realize that it +wasn't a Rat at all. It was the spy they had been sent to pick up. He'd +been in the sick bay for treatments of the ulcers on his back gained +from five years of frequent lashings as a Rat slave. + +Pendray went closer and looked him over. He was still wearing the +clothing he'd had on when the _Shane_ picked him up. + +_Poor guy_, Pendray thought. _All that hell--for nothing._ + +Then he went around the corpse and continued toward the engine room. + +The place was still hot, but it was thermal heat, not radioactivity. A +dead atomic engine doesn't leave any residual effects. + +Five out of the six engines were utterly ruined, but the sixth seemed +to be in working condition. Even the shielding was intact. Again, hope +rose in Alfred Pendray's mind. If only there were tools! + +A half hour's search killed that idea. There were no tools aboard +capable of cutting through the hard shielding. He couldn't use it to +shield the engine on the lifeboat. And the shielding that been on the +other five engines had melted and run; it was worthless. + +Then another idea hit him. Would the remaining engine work at all? Could +it be fixed? It was the only hope he had left. + +Apparently, the only thing wrong with it was the exciter circuit leads, +which had been sheared off by a bit of flying metal. The engine had +simply stopped instead of exploding. That ought to be fixable. He could +try; it was something to do, anyway. + +It took him the better part of two days, according to his watch. There +were plenty of smaller tools around for the job, although many of them +were scattered and some had been ruined by the explosions. Replacement +parts were harder to find, but he managed to pirate some of them from +the ruined engines. + +He ate and slept as he felt the need. There was plenty of food in the +sick bay kitchen, and there is no need for a bed under gravity-less +conditions. + +After the engine was repaired, he set about getting the rest of the ship +ready to move--if it _would_ move. The hull was still solid, so the +infraspace field should function. The air purifiers had to be +reconnected and repaired in a couple of places. The lights ditto. The +biggest job was checking all the broken leads to make sure there weren't +any short circuits anywhere. + +The pseudogravity circuits were hopeless. He'd have to do without +gravity. + + * * * * * + +On the third day, he decided he'd better clean the place up. There were +several corpses floating around, and they were beginning to be +noticeable. He had to tow them, one by one, to the rear starboard air +lock and seal them between the inner and outer doors. He couldn't dump +them, since the outer door was partially melted and welded shut. + +He took the personal effects from the men. If he ever got back to Earth, +their next-of-kin might want the stuff. On the body of the imitation +Rat, he found a belt-pouch full of microfilm. The report on the Rats' +new weapon? Possibly. He'd have to look it over later. + +On the "morning" of the fourth day, he started the single remaining +engine. The infraspace field came on, and the ship began moving at +multiples of the speed of light. Pendray grinned. _Half gone, will +travel_, he thought gleefully. + +If Pendray had had any liquor aboard, he would have gotten mildly drunk. +Instead, he sat down and read the spools of microfilm, using the +projector in the sick bay. + +He was not a scientist in the strict sense of the word. He was a +navigator and a fairly good engineer. So it didn't surprise him any that +he couldn't understand a lot of the report. The mechanics of making a +semi-nova out of a normal star were more than a little bit over his +head. He'd read a little and then go out and take a look at the stars, +checking their movement so that he could make an estimate of his speed. +He'd jury-rigged a kind of control on the hull field, so he could aim +the hulk easily enough. He'd only have to get within signaling range, +anyway. An Earth ship would pick him up. + +_If there was any Earth left by the time he got there._ + +He forced his mind away from thinking about that. + +It was not until he reached the last spool of microfilm that his +situation was forcibly brought to focus in his mind. Thus far, he had +thought only about saving himself. But the note at the end of the spool +made him realize that there were others to save. + +The note said: _These reports must reach Earth before 22 June 2287. +After that, it will be too late._ + +_22 June!_ + +That was--let's see.... + +_This is the eighteenth of September_, he thought, _June of next year +is--nine months away. Surely I can make it in that time. I've got to._ + +The only question was, how fast was the hulk of the _Shane_ moving? + +It took him three days to get the answer accurately. He knew the +strength of the field around the ship, and he knew the approximate +thrust of the single engine by that time. He had also measured the +motions of some of the nearer stars. Thank heaven he was a navigator and +not a mechanic or something! At least he knew the direction and distance +to Earth, and he knew the distance of the brighter stars from where the +ship was. + +He had two checks to use, then. Star motion against engine thrust and +field strength. He checked them. And rechecked them. And hated the +answer. + +He would arrive in the vicinity of Sol some time in late July--a full +month too late. + +What could he do? Increase the output of the engine? No. It was doing +the best it could now. Even shutting off the lights wouldn't help +anything; they were a microscopic drain on that engine. + +He tried to think, tried to reason out a solution, but nothing would +come. He found time to curse the fool who had decided the shielding on +the lifeboat would have to be removed and repaired. That little craft, +with its lighter mass and more powerful field concentration, could make +the trip in ten days. + +The only trouble was that ten days in that radiation hell would be +impossible. He'd be a very well-preserved corpse in half that time, and +there'd be no one aboard to guide her. + +Maybe he could get one of the other engines going! Sure. He _must_ be +able to get one more going, somehow. Anything to cut down on that time! + +He went back to the engines again, looking them over carefully. He went +over them again. Not a single one could be repaired at all. + +Then he rechecked his velocity figures, hoping against hope that he'd +made a mistake somewhere, dropped a decimal point or forgotten to divide +by two. Anything. Anything! + +But there was nothing. His figures had been accurate the first time. + +For a while, he just gave up. All he could think of was the terrible +blaze of heat that would wipe out Earth when the Rats set off the sun. +Man might survive. There were colonies that the Rats didn't know about. +But they'd find them eventually. Without Earth, the race would be set +back five hundred--maybe five thousand--years. The Rats would would have +plenty of time to hunt them out and destroy them. + +And then he forced his mind away from that train of thought. There had +to be a way to get there on time. Something in the back of his mind told +him that there _was_ a way. + +He had to think. Really think. + + * * * * * + +On 7 June 2287, a signal officer on the Earth destroyer _Muldoon_ picked +up a faint signal coming from the general direction of the constellation +of Sagittarius. It was the standard emergency signal for distress. The +broadcaster only had a very short range, so the source couldn't be too +far away. + +He made his report to the ship's captain. "We're within easy range of +her, sir," he finished. "Shall we pick her up?" + +"Might be a Rat trick," said the captain. "But we'll have to take the +chance. Beam a call to Earth, and let's go out there dead slow. If the +detectors show anything funny, we turn tail and run. We're in no position +to fight a Rat ship." + +"You think this might be a Rat trap, sir?" + +The captain grinned. "If you are referring to the _Muldoon_ as a rat +trap, Mr. Blake, you're both disrespectful and correct. That's why we're +going to run if we see anything funny. This ship is already obsolete by +our standards; you can imagine what it is by theirs." He paused. "Get +that call in to Earth. Tell 'em this ship is using a distress signal +that was obsolete six months ago. And tell 'em we're going out." + +"Yes, sir," said the signal officer. + +It wasn't a trap. As the _Muldoon_ approached the source of the signal, +their detectors picked up the ship itself. It was a standard lifeboat +from a battleship of the _Shannon_ class. + +"You don't suppose that's from the _Shane_, do you?" the captain said +softly as he looked at the plate. "She's the only ship of that class +that's missing. But if that's a _Shane_ lifeboat, what took her so long +to get here?" + +"She's cut her engines, sir!" said the observer. "She evidently knows +we're coming." + +"All right. Pull her in as soon as we're close enough. Put her in +Number Two lifeboat rack; it's empty." + + * * * * * + +When the door of the lifeboat opened, the captain of the _Muldoon_ was +waiting outside the lifeboat rack. He didn't know exactly what he had +expected to see, but it somehow seemed fitting that a lean, bearded man +in a badly worn uniform and a haggard look about him should step out. + +The specter saluted. "Lieutenant Alfred Pendray, of the _Shane_," he +said, in a voice that had almost no strength. He held up a pouch. +"Microfilm," he said. "Must get to Earth immediately. No delay. Hurry." + +"Catch him!" the captain shouted. "He's falling!" But one of the men +nearby had already caught him. + +In the sick bay, Pendray came to again. The captain's questioning +gradually got the story out of Pendray. + +"... So I didn't know what to do then," he said, his voice a breathy +whisper. "I knew I had to get that stuff home. Somehow." + +"Go on," said the captain, frowning. + +"Simple matter," said Pendray. "Nothing to it. Two equations. Little +ship goes thirty times as fast as big ship--big _hulk_. Had to get here +before 22 June. _Had_ to. Only way out, y'unnerstand. + +"Anyway. Two equations. Simple. Work 'em in your head. Big ship takes +ten months, little one takes ten days. But can't stay in a little ship +ten days. No shielding. Be dead before you got here. See?" + +"I see," said the captain patiently. + +"_But_--and here's a 'mportant point: If you stay on the big ship for +eight an' a half months, then y' only got to be in the little ship for a +day an' a half to get here. Man can live that long, even under that +radiation. See?" And with that, he closed his eyes. + +"Do you mean you exposed yourself to the full leakage radiation from a +lifeboat engine for thirty-six hours?" + +But there was no answer. + +"Let him sleep," said the ship's doctor. "If he wakes up again, I'll let +you know. But he might not be very lucid from here on in." + +"Is there anything you can do?" the captain asked. + +"No. Not after a radiation dosage like that." He looked down at Pendray. +"His problem was easy, mathematically. But not psychologically. That +took real guts to solve." + +"Yeah," said the captain gently. "All he had to do was _get_ here alive. +The problem said nothing about his staying that way." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEASURE OF A MAN*** + + +******* This file should be named 24135.txt or 24135.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/1/3/24135 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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. 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