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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29355-h.zip b/29355-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f417e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/29355-h.zip diff --git a/29355-h/29355-h.htm b/29355-h/29355-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8409adb --- /dev/null +++ b/29355-h/29355-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1206 @@ +<!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=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Odyssey of Sam Meecham, by Charles E. Fritch + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: right; font-weight: normal; line-height: 2em;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .bk1 {margin: 1em auto 3em; border-top: solid 2px; border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bk2 {float: left; width: 15em; margin: 1em 2em 1em 0;} + .pr1 {line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 4em;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + img {border: none;} + a:link,a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + .figt {float: left; clear: left; margin: 15px; padding: 0; width: 141px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; min-height: 230px;} + .trn p {margin: 15px;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Odyssey of Sam Meecham, by Charles E. Fritch + +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 Odyssey of Sam Meecham + +Author: Charles E. Fritch + +Release Date: July 8, 2009 [EBook #29355] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY OF SAM MEECHAM *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bk1"><p><i><small>This story may, in a sense, be tongue-in-cheek. But the underlying struggle, +if you look into the characters' hearts, is terrifyingly real and human—the +kind of struggle so many of us go through. But Sam Meecham was lucky. +He not only got what he wanted, but something he hadn't realized he wanted.</small></i></p></div> + +<div class="bk2"><h1><b>the<br /> +odyssey<br /> +of<br /> +sam<br /> +meecham</b></h1> + +<h2><small><i>by ... Charles E. Fritch</i></small></h2> + +<p class="pr1"><big><b>Sam Meecham did not realize that his chance discovery of unlimited +power would bring back that which he had lost eight long years ago.</b></big></p></div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">To look</span> at Sam Meecham +you'd never have dreamed he was +a man of decision and potential +explorer of the unknown. In fact, +there were times when Sam +wouldn't either. He was a pink, +frail-looking person with a weak +chin and shoulders used to stooping, +and stereotyped thinking immediately +relegated him to the +ranks of the meek and mannerly. +These, oddly enough, happened +to be his characteristics—but that +was before he discovered the +hyperdrive.</p> + +<p>In his capacity as an atomic +engine inspector, his work was +most uncreative. He was a small +cog in a large cog-laden machine. +A government worker helping to +produce engines that would send +supplies and immigrants and tourists +to the U.S. Sector of the +Moon Colony.</p> + +<p>Day after day, week after week, +freshly made engines would come +sliding down the conveyor belt. +And mechanically Sam Meecham +would attach to each two wires +that led from a machine by his +side, flip a switch, and if the dial +on his machine read at least fifty, +he could pass the machine on as +being adequate for the job of +Moon ferry. He'd been attaching +those two wires in place and +watching fifties for five years, and +it looked as though he'd be doing +it for fifty-five more.</p> + +<p>Then one day a defectively +wired machine came sliding along, +and dutifully Sam hooked it up +and flipped the switch. Automatically, +his eyes glanced disinterestedly +at the dial showing +Comparative Thrust. His eyes +bugged. The needle had passed +fifty, had gone to the 100 mark +(never before reached), struck +the metal projection, bent, and +was whirling in a rapid circle!</p> + +<p>Sam quickly cut off the motor, +then he glanced furtively about to +see if anyone had noticed. The +room was a flurry of men busy at +routine tasks and none of them +seemed particularly interested in +anything that was going on at his +table.</p> + +<p>Sam checked his own machine +and found the tester in perfect +working order. He hesitated a +brief moment, then flipped the +switch again. He was prepared +for the whir of the dial now but +still it frightened him a little. +There must be something wrong; +no atomic engine could have that +much Comparative Thrust. Yet—the +tester was perfect.</p> + +<p>Sam Meecham shut off the +tester and stood very still for a +minute and thought about it. His +glance fell on the intricate wiring +within the atomic engine and he +saw with a start that it looked +different from usual. Wires were +where wires had never been before, +where wires were not supposed +to be.</p> + +<p>With another quick glance +about him Sam began copying the +wiring pattern on a sheet of paper. +He thrust the paper into his +pocket as the foreman came up +to him.</p> + +<p>"Say, Meecham," the foreman +said, "that last engine okay?"</p> + +<p>Sam Meecham hesitated briefly, +then said, "The wiring was a little +fouled up. Busted the dial on the +tester."</p> + +<p>The foreman shook his head. +"I was afraid of that. Some wireman +on the third floor came in +half drunk a few minutes ago. +That was only his first machine, so +the others ought to be okay." He +jabbed a finger at the engine. +"You'd better send it back up."</p> + +<p>When the foreman was gone +Sam checked the wiring with his +diagram to make certain he hadn't +made any mistakes, and then he +disconnected some of the wires—just +in case.</p> + +<p>For the first time in years Sam +Meecham felt a new freedom. +He'd always been a dreamer hampered +by cold reality—a man +with his head in the stars and his +feet chained to solid earth. He'd +wanted to go to the Moon when +the government first started colonizing; +but Dorothy, his wife, +talked him out of it.</p> + +<p>At various times he had felt +that secret longing, that beckoning +of the stars, but each time he +had shelved the desire and turned +to attaching his two wires of the +tester to their proper terminals +on each atomic engine, and then +when his shift was up he turned +homeward to face an existence +equally uninspiring.</p> + +<p>The moment he had seen that +needle pass into the hundreds, +Sam Meecham knew what he was +going to do. He had planned it +years ago, when he first stood +alone in the night and gazed upward +at the glittering diamonds +that lay beyond reach. Even then +he had known what he would do +if ever the opportunity presented +itself. In those moments of self-pity +that came too often, however, +he had told himself that it +was only wishful thinking and +cursed himself for being a weakling +and a dreamer who did nothing +about his dreams. But he had +resolved that someday he <i>would</i> +go out among the stars.</p> + +<p>That day had come, and as Sam +Meecham went homeward that +evening he felt his heart beat in +time with the pulsing light of the +stars overhead. But with this new +exultation he felt a desperate fear. +A fear that he might again bypass +his opportunity as he had done so +often before. Yet he knew that +this was his greatest chance, perhaps +his last chance. He must be +brave and strong, and above all +confident that his intense longing +would make his venture successful.</p> + +<p>"How did everything go?" +Dorothy asked when he came in.</p> + +<p>It was a mechanical question +and he answered it mechanically, +"Okay. Everything went as usual."</p> + +<p>He didn't want to look at her. +She had grown plump since they +had married eight years ago, and +by not looking at her he could +somehow pretend she was still +slim and attractive.</p> + +<p>She was lying on a couch, wearing +a housecoat, and didn't look +up from the magazine in front +of her. "Supper's on the table," +she said.</p> + +<p>For eight years he'd had flat, +uninspiring meals, meals that kept +one from starving and no more. +His complaints had met with more +hostility than he cared to cope +with, and always, meekly he had +retired from the scene of battle +wishing he had submitted and +thus avoided the tongue-lashing +before which he felt so helpless.</p> + +<p>Once more in the surroundings +that bred it, a familiar, distasteful +helplessness rose to envelop Sam +Meecham. It came across him as +a feeling of despair and bewilderment, +and he wondered sickly if +he would ever escape this.</p> + +<p><i>Yes</i>, he told himself, clenching +his fists determinedly. But he +would have to bide his time. +Slowly, not really tasting it, he +ate the cold, uninviting meal set +on the table.</p> + +<p>Securing the engine was the +least of his worries—at least from +a commercial standpoint. The +factory was turning out atomic +engines at almost production-line +rates, and civilians could easily +get them for private use—so long +as they operated them at low +speeds and within the atmosphere +of Earth.</p> + +<p>That last thought drew a long +secret laugh from Sam Meecham. +At low speeds. The government +considered anything above a 50 +CT as high speed. And here he +was with a secret that could enable +him to travel at—who knows what +speeds? He could give it to the +government later, but right now +he had his own use for it.</p> + +<p>Dorothy would prove an obstacle, +however. She always was +an obstacle, and there was no +reason to assume she wouldn't +be one now. And he was right +about that. The following payday, +when he took his check and +splurged it on an atomic engine, +Dorothy was madder than a +Uranium pile approaching critical +mass.</p> + +<p>"Here I scrimp and save on +that measly paycheck you bring +home," she wailed, "and you go +out and buy luxuries we don't +need if we could afford them. +Look at this dress! It's old—all +my clothes are old. And you +know why? You want to know +why?"</p> + +<p>Sam Meecham already knew +why. It was because as a manager +of his financial affairs Dorothy +was a flop. Often he had wanted +to tell her so, but the more times +he attempted to open his mouth +the louder she had wailed. It +was a lot easier just to let her +explode and then fizzle out. Even +now he had the desire to shout +at her to see what would happen. +But her shrieks made him grow +sullen and unsure of himself. Perhaps +he <i>had</i> wasted the money. +After all, the engine they had in +their outdated model rocket was +good for a few years more. But +for a long trip through space—it +would never do.</p> + +<p>The explosion was over and she +was merely sizzling. She had +folded her arms resolutely, determined +that he should cancel +the order for the engine immediately.</p> + +<p>Sam Meecham felt a wave of +helplessness surge over him. He +felt lost and bewildered. Perhaps +she was right; maybe it <i>was</i> foolish. +Here he was: Sam Meecham, +thirty-five, whose mediocre living +was made attaching two wires to +two terminals day after day, week +after week—a man who suddenly +saw a pointer go unexpectedly +beyond the fifty mark, and who +immediately began having delusions +of grandeur. He was a +dreamer—but dreams and reality +were two different things, and +sometimes he confused them. He +shook his head, feeling like a +fool.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Dorothy's face was before +him, determined, demanding.</p> + +<p>Sam said, "All right, I'll take +it back."</p> + +<p>She smiled condescendingly, +like a mother does when a child +admits a wrongdoing.</p> + +<p>Conditioned responses, Sam +thought bitterly; that was the +whole trouble. This cravenness, +this kowtowing before any idiot +with a louder voice, certainly +wasn't in his genes. The trouble +was in his conditioning, started +when he was an adolescent. Give +somebody an inch and they'll take +two. Pretty soon they're walking +all over you, and you've become +so used to it you don't complain.</p> + +<p>He thought of his job, of the +eternal fitting of two wires in +place. He was a cog and nothing +more—a cog that could be replaced +as swiftly, as efficiently +as any part of an assembly-line +atomic engine could be replaced. +He looked up into the blank, smiling, +self-satisfied face of his wife. +He thought of the stars beckoning +overhead. The <i>stars</i>!</p> + +<p>"No," he said suddenly, decisively. +The word fell like a +sledgehammer blow in the stillness +of the room.</p> + +<p>Dorothy's vacuous smile faded, +uncomprehending. "What?"</p> + +<p>"No," Sam said, trying to keep +his voice even. "I've changed my +mind. I'm keeping the engine +whether you like it or not."</p> + +<p>Dorothy's mouth hung open in +surprise, and before she could +recover enough to launch a fresh +tirade Sam Meecham had walked +out, slamming the door behind +him. He paused in the cool evening +and gazed upward. The +government had gone only to the +Moon. Sam Meecham was going +to the stars!</p> + +<p>The next day he was given the +silent treatment. It had begun the +night before when he returned +from his walk. Dorothy was in +bed, awake and sniffling over the +cruelty inflicted upon her by an +unthoughtful husband, and when +he came in she turned her back +and wouldn't speak. Sam didn't +mind that; in fact, it was a welcome +relief. But all night long +she sniffled into her pillow, trying +to win him over.</p> + +<p>Sam felt an odd mixture of +sympathy and anger. "Oh, shut +up," he said finally, and stuck his +head under the pillow.</p> + +<p>In the morning the treatment +continued, but it was not totally +silent—for Dorothy's air of hostility +was now accompanied by +low, sometimes indistinct mumblings.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Sam said, "This +coffee's cold."</p> + +<p>"If you don't like it," Dorothy +said, and thrust her face near his, +"make some yourself."</p> + +<p>Sam half-rose and gripped the +table. "Look, my lovely one, <i>I'm</i> +the gent who brings home that +weekly paycheck you can't get +along without. Measly or not, it's +good, honest American dough that +lets us live a little decently—and +the least <i>you</i> could do is give me +warm coffee in the morning!"</p> + +<p>His voice had risen almost to a +shout and Sam himself was +surprised at it. Dorothy's eyebrows +crept into a bewildered +frown, and like one in a trance +she moved to turn on the heat +beneath the coffee pot.</p> + +<p>Sam's heart was beating swiftly +as he sat down. Conditioned responses, +he thought a little wildly. +He'd started it off last night +by defying Dorothy—and now, +bit by bit, it was becoming easier. +All he'd have to do was keep it +up, see that he didn't lapse.</p> + +<p>He sipped the coffee slowly, as +if tasting his recent triumph in the +black liquid.</p> + +<p>"You'd better hurry," Dorothy +said, looking at him a little uneasily.</p> + +<p>Sam glanced at the wall clock +and began gulping the hot liquid. +Ten of eight! He'd have to hurry. +He paused suddenly, the cup in +mid-air, and wondered. Hurry to +what? To those two wires and +the tester and the endless stream +of untested engines flowing +toward him?</p> + +<p>With an infinite firmness, Sam +Meecham placed his cup on the +saucer. "I'm not going in," he +said.</p> + +<p>Dorothy looked at him as +though he were crazy. "What do +you mean, you're not going in?" +she demanded. "Just because +you've got some mulish notion in +your head, do you think we have +to starve? You're going in and +liking it."</p> + +<p>"The engine I bought is coming +today," he said in a quiet voice. +"I want to install it." In Sam +Meecham's eyes there was a +deadly fire that even his wife had +not seen before. She gulped and +backed away a little.</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Call up the foreman," Sam +said. "Tell him I'm sick. No, +wait." He paused, smiling coldly. +That would leave him an out; he +could always go back to the job +if he changed his mind. He said +slowly, "Tell him I've quit."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sam!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Tell him I've quit," Sam insisted. +That was the thing. Burn +your bridges behind you so you +can't turn back, so the only road +is ahead.</p> + +<p>Sam Meecham was going to the +stars, and he would never return!</p> + +<p>The atomic engine came that +afternoon, neat and shiny and +sleek, with all the wires in +their proper places, checked +and double-checked by a sober +human cog in the prison from +which Sam Meecham had just +escaped.</p> + +<p>Sam busied himself in the +hangar, lifting out the old engine +and replacing it with the new one. +Carefully, he settled it into its +housing and bolted it down. Then +he rearranged the wires into the +pattern outlined on the sheet of +paper.</p> + +<p>Dorothy brought him coffee. +That surprised him but he accepted +it gratefully.</p> + +<p>"Can—can I help you, Sam?" +she offered.</p> + +<p>He looked at her, perhaps a +little disappointed that her face +was serious. He said, "Sure you're +not just trying to be nosey?"</p> + +<p>A sharp pain darted into her +eyes and she turned away.</p> + +<p>"Wait," he said.</p> + +<p>He called himself a fool. It +was another of her tricks and he +was falling for it. He put a restraining +hand on her arm and +remembered another time eight +years ago when the touch would +have sent electric thrills coursing +through him. Oddly, he felt a +small remnant of the pleasure stir +within him.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said gruffly. +"All right, you can help."</p> + +<p>So he was a fool. He'd been a +fool before and chances were he'd +be one again more often than he'd +care to admit. In a short while, +hours perhaps, he'd be gone—and +he'd never see Dorothy again. +Somehow the thought was not as +comforting as he had expected, +and he tried to work off a lingering +doubt that rose to plague him.</p> + +<p>They worked through the afternoon, +testing any weak parts the +rocket might have, bracing the +struts, checking for leaks. Sam +found two space-suits in the +locker. He'd better leave one, he +thought. They were expensive +and Dorothy might need one +sometime. With him gone, she +couldn't afford to throw money +around. Yet he might need it +more than she ever would. For a +minute he stood undecided, and +then he put them both in the +locker.</p> + +<p>Dorothy came into the room +and smiled wearily at him. "It'll +go any place now," she told him +proudly.</p> + +<p>In her eyes Sam saw an indefinable +something. Something +he might have seen eight years +ago—but mixed with it was a +sadness he had not known she +could possess. Guiltily, he turned +his gaze away.</p> + +<p>"We—we'd better go in and +eat," he said, looking at his watch +without seeing it.</p> + +<p>She didn't say anything, and +that was odd. Sam wished she +would nag and complain as she +always had before. He wondered +why he wished that, when only a +short time before he had wanted +just the opposite. It was with a +start that he realized the reason. +He was running away. That was +it. He was running away, and he +wanted to be deathly certain that +he had good cause to run. Slowly +the suspicion was creeping over +him that the situation had changed +slightly, was changing more.</p> + +<p>He would leave tonight, he told +himself, before he weakened +enough to shelve his plans for +another comfortable rut.</p> + +<p>Sam's voice was a little hoarse. +"What are you doing here? What +do you want?" He had finished +loading enough supplies aboard +the rocket to last him months.</p> + +<p>Dorothy came toward him from +the darkness.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," he said. "You +can't talk me out of it this time."</p> + +<p>But she only smiled sadly and +said, "I know that, Sam. I came +to say good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye?"</p> + +<p>"You're leaving, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." He looked at the +ground, studying the darkness.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Sam," she said. +"We started out wrong. Maybe, +if we tried again—"</p> + +<p>But Sam said quickly, "No. +I'm sorry too, but people don't +change."</p> + +<p>The remark startled him. He +had used it occasionally to rationalize +his position, had been convinced +of its undeniable truth—yet +suddenly he realized that he +himself was its living denial. +People <i>could</i> change, just as he +had changed, just as Dorothy +could change. It had been partly +his fault when he first gave in to +something he didn't want to do, +and then to something else, and +something else after that. He had +helped dig the rut in which he +had found himself, taking it for +granted just as Dorothy had taken +it for granted.</p> + +<p>Her hair was soft in the same +moonlight that had shone eight +years before, and Sam Meecham +felt a desire that had been too +long unfulfilled.</p> + +<p>"Dorothy, I—"</p> + +<p>He hesitated. The decision +came hard to him, for much of +his life had been devoted to giving +in to the decisions of others. This +was the moment he had been waiting +for, and now at the last +moment he was uncertain.</p> + +<p>He said suddenly, "Can you +pack a few things?"</p> + +<p>"Sam—" Her voice in the +darkness was eager. Her hands +touched his. Soft hands.</p> + +<p>"You'd better hurry," he told +her.</p> + +<p>Sam watched her go to the +house, and doubts began to gnaw +at him. Was he going to destroy +his plans now at a whim? He felt +an impulse to get into the rocket +and leave without her—yet he +thought of the cold emptiness of +space and himself drifting through +alien worlds, alone, lonely. Perhaps +it was wrong but he couldn't +condemn her for something that +was partly his fault. He was trying +to become the person he once +might have been, and it was only +fair that she should have the same +chance.</p> + +<p>Dorothy came hurrying back, a +suitcase in her hand, and there +was an eagerness about her that +pleased him. He helped her put +the suitcase on board.</p> + +<p>"Dorothy—"</p> + +<p>Her voice was soft and low. +"Yes, Sam?" Starlight danced in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>He pulled her gently to him. +He kissed her, and that night eight +years ago came back, and in his +arms was the young eager bride +he had known, the one he loved.</p> + +<p>Minutes later they rose on +wings of fire, in a slow upward +spiral that quickened painlessly. +Sam had not questioned the +hyperdrive. It had worked in the +factory and it would work here. +He watched the needle cross the +dial in a swift, steady movement.</p> + +<p>Dorothy placed her hand in his. +"Where are we going, darling?"</p> + +<p>Sam Meecham smiled at her, +confident that he had made the +most important decision in his +life. He pointed through the forward +window.</p> + +<p>Ahead of them lay the stars.</p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/001-2.jpg"><img src="images/001-1.jpg" width="141" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><big><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></big></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>Fantastic Universe</i> January 1954. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Odyssey of Sam Meecham, by Charles E. 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Fritch + +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 Odyssey of Sam Meecham + +Author: Charles E. Fritch + +Release Date: July 8, 2009 [EBook #29355] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY OF SAM MEECHAM *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _This story may, in a sense, be tongue-in-cheek. But the underlying + struggle, if you look into the characters' hearts, is terrifyingly + real and human--the kind of struggle so many of us go through. But + Sam Meecham was lucky. He not only got what he wanted, but something + he hadn't realized he wanted._ + + + the + odyssey + of + sam + meecham + + _by ... Charles E. Fritch_ + + + Sam Meecham did not realize that his chance discovery of unlimited + power would bring back that which he had lost eight long years ago. + + +To look at Sam Meecham you'd never have dreamed he was a man of decision +and potential explorer of the unknown. In fact, there were times when +Sam wouldn't either. He was a pink, frail-looking person with a weak +chin and shoulders used to stooping, and stereotyped thinking +immediately relegated him to the ranks of the meek and mannerly. These, +oddly enough, happened to be his characteristics--but that was before he +discovered the hyperdrive. + +In his capacity as an atomic engine inspector, his work was most +uncreative. He was a small cog in a large cog-laden machine. A +government worker helping to produce engines that would send supplies +and immigrants and tourists to the U.S. Sector of the Moon Colony. + +Day after day, week after week, freshly made engines would come sliding +down the conveyor belt. And mechanically Sam Meecham would attach to +each two wires that led from a machine by his side, flip a switch, and +if the dial on his machine read at least fifty, he could pass the +machine on as being adequate for the job of Moon ferry. He'd been +attaching those two wires in place and watching fifties for five years, +and it looked as though he'd be doing it for fifty-five more. + +Then one day a defectively wired machine came sliding along, and +dutifully Sam hooked it up and flipped the switch. Automatically, his +eyes glanced disinterestedly at the dial showing Comparative Thrust. His +eyes bugged. The needle had passed fifty, had gone to the 100 mark +(never before reached), struck the metal projection, bent, and was +whirling in a rapid circle! + +Sam quickly cut off the motor, then he glanced furtively about to see if +anyone had noticed. The room was a flurry of men busy at routine tasks +and none of them seemed particularly interested in anything that was +going on at his table. + +Sam checked his own machine and found the tester in perfect working +order. He hesitated a brief moment, then flipped the switch again. He +was prepared for the whir of the dial now but still it frightened him a +little. There must be something wrong; no atomic engine could have that +much Comparative Thrust. Yet--the tester was perfect. + +Sam Meecham shut off the tester and stood very still for a minute and +thought about it. His glance fell on the intricate wiring within the +atomic engine and he saw with a start that it looked different from +usual. Wires were where wires had never been before, where wires were +not supposed to be. + +With another quick glance about him Sam began copying the wiring pattern +on a sheet of paper. He thrust the paper into his pocket as the foreman +came up to him. + +"Say, Meecham," the foreman said, "that last engine okay?" + +Sam Meecham hesitated briefly, then said, "The wiring was a little +fouled up. Busted the dial on the tester." + +The foreman shook his head. "I was afraid of that. Some wireman on the +third floor came in half drunk a few minutes ago. That was only his +first machine, so the others ought to be okay." He jabbed a finger at +the engine. "You'd better send it back up." + +When the foreman was gone Sam checked the wiring with his diagram to +make certain he hadn't made any mistakes, and then he disconnected some +of the wires--just in case. + +For the first time in years Sam Meecham felt a new freedom. He'd always +been a dreamer hampered by cold reality--a man with his head in the +stars and his feet chained to solid earth. He'd wanted to go to the Moon +when the government first started colonizing; but Dorothy, his wife, +talked him out of it. + +At various times he had felt that secret longing, that beckoning of the +stars, but each time he had shelved the desire and turned to attaching +his two wires of the tester to their proper terminals on each atomic +engine, and then when his shift was up he turned homeward to face an +existence equally uninspiring. + +The moment he had seen that needle pass into the hundreds, Sam Meecham +knew what he was going to do. He had planned it years ago, when he first +stood alone in the night and gazed upward at the glittering diamonds +that lay beyond reach. Even then he had known what he would do if ever +the opportunity presented itself. In those moments of self-pity that +came too often, however, he had told himself that it was only wishful +thinking and cursed himself for being a weakling and a dreamer who did +nothing about his dreams. But he had resolved that someday he _would_ go +out among the stars. + +That day had come, and as Sam Meecham went homeward that evening he felt +his heart beat in time with the pulsing light of the stars overhead. But +with this new exultation he felt a desperate fear. A fear that he might +again bypass his opportunity as he had done so often before. Yet he knew +that this was his greatest chance, perhaps his last chance. He must be +brave and strong, and above all confident that his intense longing would +make his venture successful. + +"How did everything go?" Dorothy asked when he came in. + +It was a mechanical question and he answered it mechanically, "Okay. +Everything went as usual." + +He didn't want to look at her. She had grown plump since they had +married eight years ago, and by not looking at her he could somehow +pretend she was still slim and attractive. + +She was lying on a couch, wearing a housecoat, and didn't look up from +the magazine in front of her. "Supper's on the table," she said. + +For eight years he'd had flat, uninspiring meals, meals that kept one +from starving and no more. His complaints had met with more hostility +than he cared to cope with, and always, meekly he had retired from +the scene of battle wishing he had submitted and thus avoided the +tongue-lashing before which he felt so helpless. + +Once more in the surroundings that bred it, a familiar, distasteful +helplessness rose to envelop Sam Meecham. It came across him as a +feeling of despair and bewilderment, and he wondered sickly if he would +ever escape this. + +_Yes_, he told himself, clenching his fists determinedly. But he would +have to bide his time. Slowly, not really tasting it, he ate the cold, +uninviting meal set on the table. + +Securing the engine was the least of his worries--at least from a +commercial standpoint. The factory was turning out atomic engines at +almost production-line rates, and civilians could easily get them for +private use--so long as they operated them at low speeds and within the +atmosphere of Earth. + +That last thought drew a long secret laugh from Sam Meecham. At low +speeds. The government considered anything above a 50 CT as high speed. +And here he was with a secret that could enable him to travel at--who +knows what speeds? He could give it to the government later, but right +now he had his own use for it. + +Dorothy would prove an obstacle, however. She always was an obstacle, +and there was no reason to assume she wouldn't be one now. And he was +right about that. The following payday, when he took his check and +splurged it on an atomic engine, Dorothy was madder than a Uranium pile +approaching critical mass. + +"Here I scrimp and save on that measly paycheck you bring home," she +wailed, "and you go out and buy luxuries we don't need if we could +afford them. Look at this dress! It's old--all my clothes are old. And +you know why? You want to know why?" + +Sam Meecham already knew why. It was because as a manager of his +financial affairs Dorothy was a flop. Often he had wanted to tell her +so, but the more times he attempted to open his mouth the louder she had +wailed. It was a lot easier just to let her explode and then fizzle out. +Even now he had the desire to shout at her to see what would happen. But +her shrieks made him grow sullen and unsure of himself. Perhaps he _had_ +wasted the money. After all, the engine they had in their outdated model +rocket was good for a few years more. But for a long trip through +space--it would never do. + +The explosion was over and she was merely sizzling. She had folded her +arms resolutely, determined that he should cancel the order for the +engine immediately. + +Sam Meecham felt a wave of helplessness surge over him. He felt lost and +bewildered. Perhaps she was right; maybe it _was_ foolish. Here he was: +Sam Meecham, thirty-five, whose mediocre living was made attaching two +wires to two terminals day after day, week after week--a man who +suddenly saw a pointer go unexpectedly beyond the fifty mark, and who +immediately began having delusions of grandeur. He was a dreamer--but +dreams and reality were two different things, and sometimes he confused +them. He shook his head, feeling like a fool. + +"Well?" Dorothy's face was before him, determined, demanding. + +Sam said, "All right, I'll take it back." + +She smiled condescendingly, like a mother does when a child admits a +wrongdoing. + +Conditioned responses, Sam thought bitterly; that was the whole trouble. +This cravenness, this kowtowing before any idiot with a louder voice, +certainly wasn't in his genes. The trouble was in his conditioning, +started when he was an adolescent. Give somebody an inch and they'll +take two. Pretty soon they're walking all over you, and you've become so +used to it you don't complain. + +He thought of his job, of the eternal fitting of two wires in place. He +was a cog and nothing more--a cog that could be replaced as swiftly, as +efficiently as any part of an assembly-line atomic engine could be +replaced. He looked up into the blank, smiling, self-satisfied face of +his wife. He thought of the stars beckoning overhead. The _stars_! + +"No," he said suddenly, decisively. The word fell like a sledgehammer +blow in the stillness of the room. + +Dorothy's vacuous smile faded, uncomprehending. "What?" + +"No," Sam said, trying to keep his voice even. "I've changed my mind. +I'm keeping the engine whether you like it or not." + +Dorothy's mouth hung open in surprise, and before she could recover +enough to launch a fresh tirade Sam Meecham had walked out, slamming the +door behind him. He paused in the cool evening and gazed upward. The +government had gone only to the Moon. Sam Meecham was going to the +stars! + +The next day he was given the silent treatment. It had begun the night +before when he returned from his walk. Dorothy was in bed, awake and +sniffling over the cruelty inflicted upon her by an unthoughtful +husband, and when he came in she turned her back and wouldn't speak. Sam +didn't mind that; in fact, it was a welcome relief. But all night long +she sniffled into her pillow, trying to win him over. + +Sam felt an odd mixture of sympathy and anger. "Oh, shut up," he said +finally, and stuck his head under the pillow. + +In the morning the treatment continued, but it was not totally +silent--for Dorothy's air of hostility was now accompanied by low, +sometimes indistinct mumblings. + +Suddenly Sam said, "This coffee's cold." + +"If you don't like it," Dorothy said, and thrust her face near his, +"make some yourself." + +Sam half-rose and gripped the table. "Look, my lovely one, _I'm_ the +gent who brings home that weekly paycheck you can't get along without. +Measly or not, it's good, honest American dough that lets us live a +little decently--and the least _you_ could do is give me warm coffee in +the morning!" + +His voice had risen almost to a shout and Sam himself was surprised at +it. Dorothy's eyebrows crept into a bewildered frown, and like one in a +trance she moved to turn on the heat beneath the coffee pot. + +Sam's heart was beating swiftly as he sat down. Conditioned responses, +he thought a little wildly. He'd started it off last night by defying +Dorothy--and now, bit by bit, it was becoming easier. All he'd have to +do was keep it up, see that he didn't lapse. + +He sipped the coffee slowly, as if tasting his recent triumph in the +black liquid. + +"You'd better hurry," Dorothy said, looking at him a little uneasily. + +Sam glanced at the wall clock and began gulping the hot liquid. Ten of +eight! He'd have to hurry. He paused suddenly, the cup in mid-air, and +wondered. Hurry to what? To those two wires and the tester and the +endless stream of untested engines flowing toward him? + +With an infinite firmness, Sam Meecham placed his cup on the saucer. +"I'm not going in," he said. + +Dorothy looked at him as though he were crazy. "What do you mean, you're +not going in?" she demanded. "Just because you've got some mulish notion +in your head, do you think we have to starve? You're going in and liking +it." + +"The engine I bought is coming today," he said in a quiet voice. "I want +to install it." In Sam Meecham's eyes there was a deadly fire that even +his wife had not seen before. She gulped and backed away a little. + +"But--" + +"Call up the foreman," Sam said. "Tell him I'm sick. No, wait." He +paused, smiling coldly. That would leave him an out; he could always go +back to the job if he changed his mind. He said slowly, "Tell him I've +quit." + +"_Sam!_" + +"Tell him I've quit," Sam insisted. That was the thing. Burn your +bridges behind you so you can't turn back, so the only road is ahead. + +Sam Meecham was going to the stars, and he would never return! + +The atomic engine came that afternoon, neat and shiny and sleek, with +all the wires in their proper places, checked and double-checked by a +sober human cog in the prison from which Sam Meecham had just escaped. + +Sam busied himself in the hangar, lifting out the old engine and +replacing it with the new one. Carefully, he settled it into its housing +and bolted it down. Then he rearranged the wires into the pattern +outlined on the sheet of paper. + +Dorothy brought him coffee. That surprised him but he accepted it +gratefully. + +"Can--can I help you, Sam?" she offered. + +He looked at her, perhaps a little disappointed that her face was +serious. He said, "Sure you're not just trying to be nosey?" + +A sharp pain darted into her eyes and she turned away. + +"Wait," he said. + +He called himself a fool. It was another of her tricks and he was +falling for it. He put a restraining hand on her arm and remembered +another time eight years ago when the touch would have sent electric +thrills coursing through him. Oddly, he felt a small remnant of the +pleasure stir within him. + +"All right," he said gruffly. "All right, you can help." + +So he was a fool. He'd been a fool before and chances were he'd be one +again more often than he'd care to admit. In a short while, hours +perhaps, he'd be gone--and he'd never see Dorothy again. Somehow the +thought was not as comforting as he had expected, and he tried to work +off a lingering doubt that rose to plague him. + +They worked through the afternoon, testing any weak parts the rocket +might have, bracing the struts, checking for leaks. Sam found two +space-suits in the locker. He'd better leave one, he thought. They were +expensive and Dorothy might need one sometime. With him gone, she +couldn't afford to throw money around. Yet he might need it more than +she ever would. For a minute he stood undecided, and then he put them +both in the locker. + +Dorothy came into the room and smiled wearily at him. "It'll go any +place now," she told him proudly. + +In her eyes Sam saw an indefinable something. Something he might have +seen eight years ago--but mixed with it was a sadness he had not known +she could possess. Guiltily, he turned his gaze away. + +"We--we'd better go in and eat," he said, looking at his watch without +seeing it. + +She didn't say anything, and that was odd. Sam wished she would nag and +complain as she always had before. He wondered why he wished that, when +only a short time before he had wanted just the opposite. It was with a +start that he realized the reason. He was running away. That was it. He +was running away, and he wanted to be deathly certain that he had good +cause to run. Slowly the suspicion was creeping over him that the +situation had changed slightly, was changing more. + +He would leave tonight, he told himself, before he weakened enough to +shelve his plans for another comfortable rut. + +Sam's voice was a little hoarse. "What are you doing here? What do you +want?" He had finished loading enough supplies aboard the rocket to last +him months. + +Dorothy came toward him from the darkness. + +"It's no use," he said. "You can't talk me out of it this time." + +But she only smiled sadly and said, "I know that, Sam. I came to say +good-bye." + +"Good-bye?" + +"You're leaving, aren't you?" + +"Yes." He looked at the ground, studying the darkness. + +"I'm sorry, Sam," she said. "We started out wrong. Maybe, if we tried +again--" + +But Sam said quickly, "No. I'm sorry too, but people don't change." + +The remark startled him. He had used it occasionally to rationalize his +position, had been convinced of its undeniable truth--yet suddenly he +realized that he himself was its living denial. People _could_ change, +just as he had changed, just as Dorothy could change. It had been partly +his fault when he first gave in to something he didn't want to do, and +then to something else, and something else after that. He had helped dig +the rut in which he had found himself, taking it for granted just as +Dorothy had taken it for granted. + +Her hair was soft in the same moonlight that had shone eight years +before, and Sam Meecham felt a desire that had been too long +unfulfilled. + +"Dorothy, I--" + +He hesitated. The decision came hard to him, for much of his life had +been devoted to giving in to the decisions of others. This was the +moment he had been waiting for, and now at the last moment he was +uncertain. + +He said suddenly, "Can you pack a few things?" + +"Sam--" Her voice in the darkness was eager. Her hands touched his. Soft +hands. + +"You'd better hurry," he told her. + +Sam watched her go to the house, and doubts began to gnaw at him. Was he +going to destroy his plans now at a whim? He felt an impulse to get into +the rocket and leave without her--yet he thought of the cold emptiness +of space and himself drifting through alien worlds, alone, lonely. +Perhaps it was wrong but he couldn't condemn her for something that was +partly his fault. He was trying to become the person he once might have +been, and it was only fair that she should have the same chance. + +Dorothy came hurrying back, a suitcase in her hand, and there was an +eagerness about her that pleased him. He helped her put the suitcase on +board. + +"Dorothy--" + +Her voice was soft and low. "Yes, Sam?" Starlight danced in her eyes. + +He pulled her gently to him. He kissed her, and that night eight years +ago came back, and in his arms was the young eager bride he had known, +the one he loved. + +Minutes later they rose on wings of fire, in a slow upward spiral that +quickened painlessly. Sam had not questioned the hyperdrive. It had +worked in the factory and it would work here. He watched the needle +cross the dial in a swift, steady movement. + +Dorothy placed her hand in his. "Where are we going, darling?" + +Sam Meecham smiled at her, confident that he had made the most important +decision in his life. He pointed through the forward window. + +Ahead of them lay the stars. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ January 1954. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and + typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Odyssey of Sam Meecham, by Charles E. 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