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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/32293-h.zip b/32293-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b20e277 --- /dev/null +++ b/32293-h.zip diff --git a/32293-h/32293-h.htm b/32293-h/32293-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae2e45f --- /dev/null +++ b/32293-h/32293-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1526 @@ +<!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 For Every Man a Reason, by Patrick Wilkins. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + +body { + margin-left: 12%; + margin-right: 12%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: right; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.author {text-align: right; margin-right: 0%;} + +.centerbox { width: 50%; /* heading box */ + margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em; + } + + + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of For Every Man A Reason, by Patrick Wilkins + +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: For Every Man A Reason + +Author: Patrick Wilkins + +Release Date: May 8, 2010 [EBook #32293] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR EVERY MAN A REASON *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="centerbox"> +<p class="center">Transcriber's note:</p> + +<p>This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction November 1954. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright +on this publication was renewed.</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 447px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="447" height="600" alt="" title="cover" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + + + + + + + <h2><br /><br /><i>Illustrated by Paul Orban</i></h2> + + <h2>BY PATRICK WILKINS</h2> + + <h1>FOR EVERY MAN A REASON</h1> + + +<p class="author"><i>To love your wife is good; to love your State is good, too.<br />But if +it comes to a question of survival, you have to<br />love one better +than the other. Also, better than<br />yourself. It was simple for the +enemy; they<br />knew which one Aron was dedicated to....</i> </p> + + +<p>The thunder of the jets died away, the sound drifting wistfully off into +the hills. The leaves that swirled in the air returned to the ground +slowly, reluctantly.</p> + +<p>The rocket had gone.</p> + +<p>Aron Myers realized that he was looking at nothing. He noticed that his +face was frozen into a meaningless smile. He let the smile slowly +dissolve as he turned to look at his wife.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 123px;"> +<img src="images/002.jpg" width="123" height="400" alt="" title="untitled" /> +</div> +<p>She was a small woman, and he realized for the first time how fragile +she was. Her piquant face, framed by long brown, flowing hair, was an +attractive jewel when set on the plush cushion of civilization. Now her +face, set in god-forsaken wilderness, metamorphosed into the frightened +mask of a small animal.</p> + +<p>They were alone.</p> + +<p>Two human beings alone on this wild, lonely planet. Aron's mind suddenly +snapped from that frame of reference—his subjective view of their +position—to the scale of galaxies. It was a big planet to them, but it +was a marble in the galaxy that man had discovered and claimed, and was +now fighting with himself to retain. This aggregate of millions of +pebbles was wracked with the violence of war, where marbles were more +expendable than the microbes that dwelt on them.</p> + +<p>The two walked hand in hand away from the meadow where the ship had +been. The feeble wind snuffled at the scraps of paper and trash, the +relics of man's passing.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p><p>They walked up the hill to their station, the reason for their being on +this wayside planet.</p> + + +<p>Aron thought about the scenery around them. The compact, utilitarian +building that was the station did not seem out of place against the +bleak landscape. The landscape did not clash or conform to its +location—it just didn't give a damn whether there was a building there +or not.</p> + +<p>Aron and Martha, his wife, took their time. They had an abundance of +that elusive quantity known as time at this lonely outpost. The trail up +to the station was rough, with rocks and weeds tearing at them. Aron +resolved that that would be one of his first projects, to put in a good +path to the meadow where the rocket would come for them—five years from +now.</p> + +<p>The sunset did nothing to enhance the countryside. There was not enough +dust in the air to create any striking colors. As the shadows began to +lap at the hill, they hurried the last few steps to the building.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>That evening they were both nervous, justifiably so, for not only were +they starting on the questionable adventure of sequestered watchdogs on +the planet, they were starting the adventure of marriage.</p> + +<p>Aron had met Martha on Tyros, a planetary trade center of some +importance. She was a waitress.</p> + +<p>Since he was marking time on Tyros, waiting for his assignment, he had a +chance to cultivate her acquaintance. On their dates, what he had to +tell her about his life was brief, impersonal.</p> + +<p>Aron was in the Maintenance division of the Territorial Administration +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>and his duties were to hold posts on various planets and act as an +observer of that planet's caprices.</p> + +<p>The rush of mankind from Earth, like a maddened swarm of bees from a +hive, had carried it through the galaxy in a short time. On all the +discovered planets that had to be reserved for future inhabitants, the +Territorial Administration had set up observation stations. The men +posted there were merely to record such fascinating information as +meteorological and geographical conditions.</p> + +<p>When the time came to expand, the frail little creatures with the large +brains and larger egos would know the best havens for migration.</p> + +<p>Another reason for these stations was the war. When man had flung +himself madly at the galaxy, he had diffused himself thinly over a +macroscopic area. Some almost isolated colonies had developed the +inevitable thirst for independence.</p> + +<p>From local but violent wars between colonies, some semblance of order +had been wrought. Now there were two sprawling interstellar empires, the +United Empire—Aron and Martha were citizens—and the People's Republic.</p> + +<p>Since Aron's realm relied on industrial technology and agriculture and +the People's Republic based its economy on mining and trade, there +seemed to be plenty of room for consolidation.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately this consolidation, or even peaceful trading, was not +possible, due to the fact that the two dominions had entirely different +forms of government and religion. The result was, as always, war.</p> + +<p>These were the general facts that both Aron and Martha knew. What Aron +discussed with his fiance were the effects of this macropolitical +situation upon their personal lives. The previous posts that Aron had +held in the TA were planets in the interior of the United Empire.</p> + +<p>During his stay on Tyros, he received the assignment he expected. It was +a post on the fringe of the empire, a planet called Kligor. These +stations of the fringe served dual purposes, not only their usual +function of planetary observation but as military outposts to warn and +halt any attempted invasion.</p> + +<p>When he heard this assignment, Aron proposed, holding up to Martha the +prospect of comfortable living in civilization once the five year hitch +on Kligor was over.</p> + +<p>She consented—not really knowing if she loved him or not.</p> + +<p>They had been married the day they left. The space ship was so crowded +there was no chance for privacy, so the two had no honeymoon till they +reached the station.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Aron and his bride arrived on Kligor in what was autumn on the planet, +for the seasons were consistent in all hemispheres.</p> + +<p>Aron planned to spend a week at the station with his wife and then begin +a planetary check of the various automatic observation stations that +compiled the meteorological and other data and relayed it by radio to +the main station. This check had to be completed before snow came to the +planet.</p> + +<p>In that week they learned about each other. Neither of them was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> young +and both were mature and prosaic enough to develop the daily routine of +a long-married couple. There were many free hours which they would spend +talking about themselves.</p> + +<p>To Martha, marriage was not new. She had experienced matrimony before. +Her husband, a gambler, had killed himself after a bad loss, leaving her +with an impossible burden of debt and a disillusioned mind.</p> + +<p>Since then she had worked, gradually paying off his debts. When Aron had +come along, she liked the big man and thought that the years on Kligor +would give her respite from a demanding reality.</p> + +<p>She did not picture herself as a tragic figure, but rather as merely +competent and stable, not realizing that that attitude in itself is a +sure sign of instability. A smile seldom found her face. She was +slightly nervous with a tendency towards moodiness.</p> + +<p>Aron's history was not so bitter. He was born in a large family and had +formed an aloof, reserved nature to achieve a sense of individuality in +the group. His life had been spent in government work and he had never +tasted the variable brew of the nuptial cup till he met Martha.</p> + +<p>He was not a deep man in emotion. His nature was such that he had to be +constantly occupied with something—not the frenzied scurrying of +insecure individuals—but a solid problem that he could work out. A +project that he could carefully shape with a keen analytical mind or +capable hands.</p> + +<p>They did not think of each other in terms of these thumbnail sketches, +but merely watched and observed—and adjusted to each other. Their +marriage was almost one of convenience, with just enough affection +involved to oil over any disputes.</p> + +<p>The spell of the planet gradually lulled them into hypnotic acceptance +of their sequestered lives. Their daily duties became the only things +worth thinking about.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Aron learned about the planet in the next two months on his tours of +inspection. He used a small atmosphere flier to cover the various posts +scattered over its surface.</p> + +<p>The small blockhouses were automatic and hermetically sealed to preserve +the instruments, but something could go wrong and then it was his job to +fix it.</p> + +<p>As for the military defense system of Kligor, that was also automatic +but not Aron's responsibility. It was a series of artificial satellites +on the rim of the planetary system, with long-range detecting and +tracting systems that would activate and co-ordinate firing mechanisms +to blast any ship from the void.</p> + +<p>It was Aron's duty to de-activate them with a control in his station if +he was signalled by a pre-arranged code from a friendly United Republic +ship. That was all he had to, or could, do with them.</p> + +<p>The planetary stations were all in good shape except for minor repairs, +which Aron attended to with the quiet joy of a man who loves machinery. +He was home sooner than expected and just in time. The next day it began +to snow.</p> + +<p>The weather had opposite effects on the people in the station. Aron,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +long used to such confinements, settled down and began reading some of +the great mass of books which he had brought, or working painstakingly +on hobbies.</p> + +<p>Martha grew more distraught as the snowbound months went by. The wild +enthusiasm of her youth had left her, but she was not stoic enough to +take the long confinement and inactivity. She tried to pick arguments, +but Aron wouldn't argue. She tried to get interested in some +time-consuming hobby, but she lacked the patience.</p> + +<p>Spring finally came. On the first nice day Martha went on a long walk to +watch the few flowers that Kligor boasted push their fragile buds into +the air. Aron spent the day working on the path and the clearing that +was a spaceport.</p> + +<p>When night came, he was alone at the station.</p> + +<p>Aron waited up all night, knowing it would be futile to search in the +dark, not knowing in which direction or how far she had gone on her +stroll. Aron was not too worried, since there were no dangerous animals. +She was probably lost or had a sprained ankle, in which case she would +have the sense to find a sheltered place and be safe for the night.</p> + +<p>When morning came he began searching. He used the atmosphere flier to +cruise over the nearby country.</p> + +<p>Up and down hillsides he flew the craft, gliding slowly at a low +altitude. He stopped over clumps of bushes for a careful scan, +occasionally roaring towards what looked like a piece of cloth, but +always turned out to be a bright stone.</p> + +<p>When he found her, he knew before he landed. She was sprawled at the +bottom of a high cliff.</p> + +<p>She was not pretty any more. She wasn't even a live animal, just dead +flesh lying there, smeared with blood and covered with tattered clothes.</p> + +<p>Aron remained in a stage of pre-shock, a state of cold clear +rationality, until he had taken her back to the station, dug a grave and +buried her. He wasn't sad, it was just a job to be done. This wasn't his +wife he was burying.</p> + +<p>It wasn't until that evening that the fact of her death penetrated and +was accepted by his mind.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The next few days were spent in routine actions. Aron relied on his +usual anodyne—work. The pathway and the meadow were filled with cement +by the end of the fifth day.</p> + +<p>He let his stunned mind become wrapped in the problem of completing this +job—the weight of the shovel in his hand, the heat of the sun on his +back—these were what he thought about. It was not a solution or even +escape, just a stall.</p> + +<p>The sixth day brought a visitor.</p> + +<p>The shock of someone knocking at the door, walking in, introducing +himself and sitting down to talk yanked Aron's mind into awareness.</p> + +<p>The only way to achieve a landing would be for a friendly ship to signal +him and have him de-activate the defenses—which definitely had not +happened!</p> + +<p>Therefore it was hallucination, a miracle, or at least an interesting +trick that this man had appeared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> at his station. Aron took interest, +demanding that the man start from the beginning again as he had missed +the introductions due to slight surprise.</p> + +<p>"I said I am Karl Rondwell, an agent and representative of the People's +Republic, being a member of the Intelligence department of her imperial +navy," the man replied.</p> + +<p>"The first question is, naturally," Aron said, "How the Hell did you get +here?"</p> + +<p>A slight smile. "Your much-vaunted defenses that are supposed to be able +to snuff out the mightiest fleet, these defenses are easy to pass—for +one man."</p> + +<p>Aron could see that easily enough. "What is your purpose here then?"</p> + +<p>"A deal, naturally!"</p> + +<p>"I imagined so. You will have to persuade me, because you can't remove +me and take over those defenses. Lack of knowledge of the proper code +would trip you up when our United Empire ships came snooping around as +they do so often."</p> + +<p>"Since we understand the rules of the game," the enemy agent said, +"let's proceed with it.</p> + +<p>"Let me begin with a discussion of civilization. You may have forgotten +something about it in your secluded life here."</p> + +<p>The agent went on to speak of civilization, its comforts. Since he was a +spy, he had spent a good deal of time in the United Republic. He spoke +in terms of a man with money, the plush night spots, the beautiful girls +that would be only too glad to be friendly with a wealthy man.</p> + +<p>"All right," Aron interrupted him. "That's clever oratory, but money +isn't all I'll take to sell out my empire. What else have you to offer, +and remember, I'm not buying—just looking."</p> + +<p>The agent made his case stronger by comparing plush civilization to the +futile hermit's existence of a TA observer, throwing in a few remarks +about the brevity of one's life to be wasted in such a barren pastime as +five years in solitary confinement.</p> + +<p>When he began talking about a comfortable married life in a civilized +community, he noticed Aron growing distraught.</p> + +<p>"Why does talk of marriage so disturb you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Aron looked at him with a sneer in his eyes, "You must know, you check +your victims before you begin your Judas acts."</p> + +<p>With a rueful grin, the agent replied, "That is one place our agents +can't penetrate, your Personnel Records Office. You, being a hard man to +know, have made very few acquaintances that we could approach to get +your history."</p> + +<p>Silence. Then Aron said, "All right, here's a bone I'll toss you. You +may use it, I don't give a damn!</p> + +<p>"My wife died five days ago on this planet." He said it with vehemence, +probably imagining by some twist of thought that he was shocking, +hurting the enemy agent, whereas he actually was deliberately shocking +himself. Masochism.</p> + +<p>"Your wife?" the agent was amazed. "I didn't know your TA observers took +wives with them."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you didn't know. Though, most of them don't, come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> to think of +it."</p> + +<p>The agent relaxed, lighted a cigarette—an ancient habit that cropped up +in all eras.</p> + +<p>"Men can take it," he began quietly. "Women are different. They can take +it if they want to, but it's hard to find the right woman; and even then +she must want to take it by being with the man she loves, or perhaps it +is psychological—martyring themselves to gain a subtle control of that +man, which they all want to do.</p> + +<p>"When you get a woman who can't, or doesn't want to take it, she can +pull a beautiful crack-up. Without friends to appreciate her martyrdom, +with a husband who refuses to acknowledge it, she sometimes uses the +supreme martyrdom to gain recognition."</p> + +<p>"Instinct tells me to slug you in the teeth," Aron said, "but apathy +forbids me."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't it be that you refuse to slug me because you want me to keep +talking? Because you recognize the truth, that your wife committed +suicide because of the loneliness and now your devotion to state has +become meaningless? 'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away' was the +old maxim, but 'the State only taketh away' is the new."</p> + +<p>There was more talk and some drinking, for the agent had conveniently +brought some choice liquor.</p> + +<p>The next morning, after they had arisen from where they had fallen +asleep in a stupor, the agent proposed his plan. With the disgust and +despair of the hangover, the agent's biting attack on his pride and his +state, Aron listened. Later the agent was no longer the enemy, but a +partner in a deal.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The next week the ships came. Twenty-seven proud cruisers of the +People's Republic; also troop and supply ships. They landed in the broad +valley on the main continent of Kligor, twenty miles from Aron's +station.</p> + +<p>The professional fighters emerged from their tools of war, the dull +hulls of the ships and the dark uniforms lapping up the pleasant +sunshine. The only reflection was from the polished bits of metal that +hung at their sides, bits of metal that could spit destruction in ten +different forms.</p> + +<p>They looked at the planet but did not see it, it was just their newly +gained base. They did not see the poignant beauty of the seemingly +senescent hills covered with wisps of green and bathed in blazing +sunshine. They only saw strategic positions, avenues of approach and +tactical advantages.</p> + +<p>The pebble had become a pawn. War had come to Kligor. The slow, subtle +weavings of individual threads of human psychology were ripped and +snarled as the Mass Effort took over.</p> + +<p>Conferences were held, land surveyed, machinery trundled from the +cavernous holds of supply ships and the base was begun. To the cadence +of barked orders, shuffling feet and grinding, pounding, thumping +machinery, the buildings rose, the men moved in.</p> + +<p>There was the usual bustle of a new military operation, the normal +tension of a top-secret operation, the usual bungling and mix-up of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +supplies. But there was a slightly different attitude toward the +gradually growing base. This was not a standard military location, one +that had existed for years, or an enemy one that had been captured, or +even a piece of ground that had been paid for in blasted hulks and +smashed bodies.</p> + +<p>This gain was by treason.</p> + +<p>Naturally then, the men felt contempt for the operation and their +contempt was manifested in sloppiness. The commanding officers would +ordinarily have become raging martinets at such lax discipline and +slovenliness, but the taint and contempt of treasonous gain was upon +them also.</p> + +<p>This contempt was displayed openly whenever the Traitor came to the +base. Weak egos must be flattered by derision of others. They would have +killed him as a matter of course, if he hadn't been clever enough to +refuse to relinquish the secret codes which allowed the friendly ships +to pass. Torture was obsolete, for hypnosis allowed a victim to die +before he could reveal secret information.</p> + +<p>He came every week to get free supplies and have conferences with the +Intelligence men. The Traitor would walk the freshly-laid sidewalk +boldly, his head up, his eyes flashing about to take in every new +building.</p> + +<p>The soldiers hazed him, spitting at him, bumping into him, glaring and +swearing at him; but he always reciprocated with such a withering look +of contempt that they soon grew tired of the sport.</p> + +<p>The worst day for the Traitor, alias Aron Myers, was when he went into +the Soldier's Club to quench his thirst of a hot day. Since it was a +week-end and there was nowhere to go on what few week-end passes were +given, the Club was packed.</p> + +<p>In the dimmed-light atmosphere, the black uniforms made the place seem +filled with vagrant and ominous shadows with white faces. The noise was +almost unbearable and Aron had a mind to leave.</p> + +<p>He was confronted by a group of these shadows. They were all the same, +indistinguishable in their identical uniforms, crew-cuts and young, +arrogant faces.</p> + +<p>"Hello Mr. Myers," one of them said. "Won't you join us in a drink?"</p> + +<p>When he started to demur, they interrupted, "But we insist, Mr. Myers." +One took him by an arm and led him to a table.</p> + +<p>"After all," they said as the drinks came up, "We owe you at least a +drink for giving us such a nice new base and everything, now don't we." +It was sarcasm, and hammy sarcasm at that, Aron thought.</p> + +<p>He recognized the situation as another case of hazing, but this time by +a group of soldiers made even more obnoxious and bellicose by the liquor +in their guts.</p> + +<p>"You don't owe me anything," Aron said, "I gave it to you for my own +reasons and not for money." Sure enough, they even came out with the +corny laughter.</p> + +<p>He let them play out their little satire without protest. Their +grandiose courtesy towards him, the toasts drunk in his honor. That is, +until one of them, more drunk than the others, said, "Mr. Myers, I hope +you don't mind my telling you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> but you are a—." The epithet was a new +slang word but its vileness stemmed from prehistoric days.</p> + +<p>Aron replied with blazing eyes. "I can't insult you back and you know +it. I don't want to be killed that badly. All I can say is:</p> + +<p>"Who are you to judge me? You are blind little men in a cage trying to +judge someone on the outside.</p> + +<p>"Your hearts and minds have been forged in the crucible of duty and +battle. You live for your uniforms and the distinction those uniforms +bring you. You live to fight and die, to spend your spare time in dank, +noisy holes like this. Drinking and lying to each other about your +adventures and love-life.</p> + +<p>"Then you try to judge galactic politics and the decisions of a man +caught up in the rip tides of these politics, when all you know is your +own vicious lives. You are traitors as much as any man, for you have +sacrificed your normal lives to dedicate yourself to the violent +dead-end of a soldier of space.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you know what I am talking about, the Fermi radiations! The hard +radiations of space that make every person who stays in space any length +of time a sure candidate for an early grave.</p> + +<p>"You're young now, so terribly young, only twenty or so years old in a +possible life-span of a hundred years.</p> + +<p>"You are traitors to yourselves by rejecting this life-span for a few +brief years of glory as a soldier, then a slow decay for ten years till +you are in a grave at thirty or forty.</p> + +<p>"Your motto ought to be, 'live fast, fight hard, die young and have a +radiation-rotted corpse'.</p> + +<p>"And yet you condemn a man because he tries to seek a few comforts from +an uncomfortable, implacable universe."</p> + +<p>They didn't get it. They never get it, he thought ruefully. They +continued in their cat and mouse game until they realized the mouse +refused to be terrified, then they let him go.</p> + +<p>During the next few weeks, someone started the rumor that the Traitor +was actually a native of the People's Republic who had been trained and +then planted in the United Empire's TA to do this job for Intelligence. +The soldiers quickly believed it and almost came to respect the Traitor.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>From the way that the Intelligence officers freely talked about +classified information with him in his weekly visits, Aron was aware +that they would probably kill him once his usefulness was over. He was +devising ways, though, to get around that at the last minute.</p> + +<p>From this knowledge that had been blatantly tossed in front of him, he +knew how strategic Kligor was in the stalemated war between the empires.</p> + +<p>The People's Republic now had a fair-sized striking force based there, +so that when an all-out offensive, which was scheduled in a few weeks, +started, this hidden force could attack United Republic's squadrons from +the rear and be doubly effective because of surprise.</p> + +<p>So the weeks trotted by, the soldiers' camp expanding daily as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +Traitor let the supply ships through the barrier. There are moods in war +just as in people. This was a crucial point, the People's Republic had +gained a slight edge by its gain on Kligor. So the usual pitch of +anticipation was infused with the higher excitement of a sure victory.</p> + +<p>The days were slipping furtively away as the Kligor garrison gathered +itself together, crouched and got ready to spring into blind, violent +action on the big day.</p> + +<p>The laughter of the soldiers was tinged with nervous hysteria, but when +they thought of that grim array of defense satellites, with its +all-seeing eyes, its electronic brain, its steel guts and large parcel +of hell in its fist, all this United Empire strength protecting them, +their laughter grew louder and more sincere.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Aron thanked providence that Kligor didn't have any moons. This +particular night called for every ebony patch of darkness that he could +find.</p> + +<p>He was on a nocturnal visit to the base, not using his flier. He knew +there were guards posted near his station that would notify the camp +when this craft was used. Slipping out the night before and avoiding the +guards, Aron had begun the twenty mile hike to the base.</p> + +<p>As he neared the base his precautions increased, his speed decreasing +proportionately. Avoiding the outer ring of guards was easy, as they +were spaced far apart. Moving in undetected, through the tighter nets of +guards around the camp, required the skill and patience of a feline.</p> + +<p>That this base should have foot soldiers patrolling the ground around it +seemed absurd on the face of it, especially to the men who had to do it. +The planet was uninhabited and their only worry was from the skies above +where the TA satellites defended them.</p> + +<p>The Intelligence officers knew better. They knew how easily one man +could slip through these defences. One man at a time, for several weeks, +and a sizable ground force could be built up in some remote spot on +Kligor. It was a long shot probability, but it was their duty to protect +against such a probability destroying what they had achieved.</p> + +<p>There was also a traitor, one of those fluctuating spineless things, +loose on the planet—a clever man who couldn't be trusted by anyone.</p> + +<p>This lack of trust was justified as Aron crawled and inched his way +through the last circle of sentries. His whole body was a detecting +device, listening for footsteps, watching for dim figures in the dark, +even his nose was waiting to detect the odor of a cigarette.</p> + +<p>According to the paper he had been lucky enough to read in the +Intelligence offices when they weren't looking, he knew the Captain of +the guards should be making an inspection about then. The seconds hung +suspended, reluctant to pass, and Aron waited.</p> + +<p>The Captain finally showed up, walking briskly, a smile on his face. +This smile was rudely erased and all future occasions for smiles removed +by a swiftly moving figure that plunged a knife into his throat before +his mind could translate the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> shock into a cry of alarm.</p> + +<p>More movement on the path and a new Captain of the guards emerged, +walking just as briskly, but in a new direction.</p> + +<p>The People's Republic's base occupied the narrow end of the valley, with +a canyon entrance serving as the apex of the triangle it covered. Near +this apex were the buildings, the dozens of barracks and administrative +buildings, all dwarfed by the massive concrete warehouses set around +them against the hills. In these warehouses were the fuel, food and +munitions of the enemy.</p> + +<p>Below these buildings were the ships, first the rows of the 27 warships +and then the 40 or so cargo and troop ships. These supply ships made up +the base of the triangle. From the air these ships looked like a tiny +forest of needles stuck upright in the ground, but from close range on +the ground, where Aron walked in the captain's uniform, they were +mammoth towers of steel—again, a matter of scale.</p> + +<p>He emerged from the sentry lines near the cargo ships. These were all +sealed and unoccupied and he passed the rows of them without a glance. +It was a long walk, for the ships were hundreds of feet apart. The open +field where they rested had the rough ground of a meadow, making his +attempted military stride more of a burlesque jerky gait while he tried +not to stumble.</p> + +<p>There was a guard outside the airlock of each of the warships, for the +crews remained aboard constantly. These guards were standing around +talking to friends or moving restlessly about.</p> + +<p>The sentries saluted Aron as he marched by, for they could see the brass +on his uniform gleaming in the dark. He found what he wanted, a group of +four guards talking by one airlock. They snapped to attention as he +approached.</p> + +<p>The base had expanded so rapidly, with new units and men being shifted +constantly, that Aron counted on the men not knowing exactly who the +Captain of the guards should be. All the sentries knew was the insignia +of the Captain was before them and the man who wore them was to be +obeyed.</p> + +<p>His orders sent a chill of alarm through them. He said he had received a +report of someone slipping through the guards and moving among the cargo +ships. Since the soldiers were needed to patrol, he wanted these men to +gather all the warship guards together and search the area of the cargo +ships.</p> + +<p>In answer to the question in their eyes, he said he knew the warships +would be unguarded but he was ordering a special detail to replace them +immediately.</p> + +<p>The four dispersed and, in a few minutes, all of the lock guards had +left their posts and were moving down to the cargo ships.</p> + +<p>Time was the critical element now. Aron had taken a terrific chance by +donning the Captain's uniform, but he had pulled off the bluff and now +he had to capitalize on it—fast!</p> + +<p>While the ship sentries were on their futile search, he ran from ship to +ship, jumped into the open airlocks and worked quickly with pliers and a +screwdriver. It was a little trick that he had learned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> from a talkative +spaceman in a bar many years ago. It worked on any ship. Disconnect a +tiny spring, cut a wire, and it was impossible to close the massive +airlock door.</p> + +<p>Aron wanted very badly to have those doors stay open.</p> + +<p>Twenty-seven ships, hundreds of feet apart. He was on his last five when +the search was abandoned and the sentries began returning. He hoped they +would react normally, taking their time, dragging their feet and talking +to each other in disgust about the wild goose chase.</p> + +<p>On the last two ships he had to use different tactics. The sentinels had +returned. When he walked up to them, they came to attention sullenly, +waiting the chance to deride the usual stupidity of the soldiers and +their Captain.</p> + +<p>Instead, they had their throats cut.</p> + +<p>Finishing the last airlock, Aron then walked through the post. Right up +the main street he strode, his heart in his throat but his step and +demeanor firm. The time of night helped him, for there were few soldiers +about that might recognize him, and what few patches of light were +thrown out from windows and doors were quickly swallowed by the black +maw of darkness.</p> + +<p>Up the main street, past the barracks, towards the last warehouse at the +head of the valley. The two pillars of rock that marked the opening of +the canyon served as a background for the massive blank walls of this +warehouse.</p> + +<p>At the little door set in the center of the front wall there was a +sentry. He was grumbling to himself about having to do such a damn-fool +thing as guard a warehouse when there wasn't an enemy within light years +of the building.</p> + +<p>He was wrong. And the enemy killed him.</p> + +<p>Inside the warehouse, there being no lock on the door, Aron groped about +in the stuffy, pitch blackness till he came to a little fire station set +against a wall. There was a locker containing an insulated suit, hatchet +and other fire-fighting equipment, at this station.</p> + +<p>He donned the fire-fighting suit and helmet and went to one end of the +building that was walled-off. In this separate room was the emergency +power supply for the base. There was a turbine with a fuel supply and +tiers of high-voltage storage batteries. There was also a fire hose on +one wall because of the presence of the combustible turbine fuel.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Aron had to pause for a minute to gather his thoughts. He had come so +far, so fast through the first steps of his plan and now he was ready +for the final action.</p> + +<p>What Aron now needed for success was three things. Sulphuric acid and +salt water in large quantities and the right wind.</p> + +<p>The first two had been thoughtfully provided by the People's Republic. +The third was a matter of waiting. The land on Kligor was dry. What +little water supplies were available weren't enough to maintain a base +the size the garrison had built. Since the ocean was only fifteen miles +from the valley where the base was located, it was a simple matter to +pipe in water.</p> + +<p>One of the mammoth cargo ships<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> had been loaded with six inch flexible +hose, tougher than steel, wound on drums. It was a matter of a day's +work to fly the ship slowly from the ocean to the base, laying out +fifteen miles of this flexible pipe on the ground.</p> + +<p>It was salt water, then, that was received at the base. Most of it was +filtered through a chemical plant in the valley to make fresh water, but +it was salt water that was available to the fire hoses for the needed +quantity and pressure.</p> + +<p>The emergency power supply and the fire hoses were only normal safety +precautions, but now, in the hands of the Traitor, they became deadly +weapons.</p> + +<p>By pushing the lever that removed the lids from the storage batteries +automatically for inspection he had sulphuric acid—for the law of +conservation of energy said that man had achieved the highest efficiency +of electro-chemical conversion, in practical form, in the lead acid +storage battery.</p> + +<p>After finding the light switch and flipping it on, Aron found this lever +and released it. Now all he needed was wind, and he had that, blowing a +cool ten miles an hour down the canyon and over the valley. He had to +consult the weather maps at his station for weeks to determine the +probability of this wind occurring and the weather conditions that +produced it. One small breeze to chart, when his recording instruments +gave hourly descriptions of the whole planet's climate. It wasn't too +hard a job.</p> + +<p>Yet that breeze had to be at the right time, at night and on the night +he wanted. Close enough to the attack date to be effective yet not too +soon. Last night his instruments recorded the data that would produce +this wind, so he was making his strike tonight.</p> + +<p>He could not stand and gloat exultantly over his success. There were +dead sentries and sprung airlocks that might be discovered.</p> + +<p>With a twist of a nozzle, the fire hose came to life, throwing a pulsing +stream of water on the batteries.</p> + +<p>What Aron had done by ingenuity, luck, daring and careful planning was +finished. It was now nature's turn.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The next night after his one man attack on the base, Aron had a visitor +at his weather station. The visitor was in sad shape. His clothing was +disheveled, his face dirty and unshaven, his eyes bloodshot and he +seemed to be on the verge of a mental collapse with a frantic gleam to +his eye.</p> + +<p>But he held a pistol in his hand and Aron didn't.</p> + +<p>He was an officer of the Intelligence Corps of the People's Republic. It +was not the officer who had first visited Aron, but one of the others +that Aron had come vaguely to know, like picking out sheep from a flock.</p> + +<p>He had been away from the base on a planetary reconnaissance mission the +night before. Since then he had gone through a nightmare ordeal.</p> + +<p>He had returned to his base to find sixty ships of the People's Republic +about to fall into enemy hands without a struggle, because 200,000 men +were dead or dying of chlorine gas poisoning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>The gas that had come pouring out of the warehouse at the head of the +valley last night. It had billowed down the valley, its streamers and +tentacles pushed by the gentle wind bringing the sleeping men awake +coughing and gasping only to fall asleep again—permanently.</p> + +<p>It had seeped through the barracks, the warehouses and into the open +airlocks of ships, while dying men tried frantically to close those +locks. They wouldn't close though, and the spacemen died puzzled as to +why not.</p> + +<p>In galactic warfare, with the emphasis on speed, maneuverability, range +and power of space cannon, et cetera, everyone had forgotten an archaic +weapon—gas. Aron hadn't.</p> + +<p>After the horror of this discovery, the Intelligence officer had taken a +flier to Aron's station.</p> + +<p>He was feeling justifiably sorry for himself and his empire's thwarted +plans for conquest, now completely impossible since the United Empire +had been notified of the impending attack, and since the most strategic +part of that attack, the Kligor task force, had been destroyed.</p> + +<p>His military mind refused to admit that one man, the Traitor, Aron, +could have caused this tragic defeat. He was willing, however, to vent +his desire for revenge on this one man.</p> + +<p>Aron was unmoved by his threats and denunciations. The Intelligence man +was going to kill him, certainly, but the officer wanted to make him +suffer first, to make him squirm.</p> + +<p>When one man has defeated and completely made fools of a galactic +empire, killing is too simple.</p> + +<p>"We weren't stupid enough to try to coerce you with pure logic," the +agent was saying to Aron. "We knew you must have a large amount of +patriotism to even take such a thankless job as this Kligor post."</p> + +<p>"There had to be something else, some stronger reason to make you reject +your empire."</p> + +<p>Aron watched him warily. He could tell by the malevolent gleam of the +Intelligence man's eye and the sneer that he was playing a trump, that +he had a choice bit of information he thought would hurt Aron. All Aron +could do was listen.</p> + +<p>"You came here happily married and full of patriotic zeal," the armed +man said. "That way you were no prospect for us.</p> + +<p>"We changed those conditions by a very simple act.</p> + +<p>"We killed your wife."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/014.jpg" width="500" height="151" alt="" title="untitled" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>The officer watched him like a hungry animal, waiting for the reaction.</p> + +<p>The reaction was a pitying smile and the following words.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you sit down. I know you are going to kill me, there's +nothing I can do about it and, actually, I don't object. But I would +like to say several things first and you might as well be comfortable +while I'm talking.</p> + +<p>"I want to speak my piece mostly to clarify my ideas before death, but +also so that you, who will continue to live, will be able to think about +them in the future."</p> + +<p>While the agent sat down with a puzzled look, Aron continued, "That is +why, when there is combat between men, it will always be in doubt. Even +though one side may be outnumbered, outmaneuvered and have all the +military laws of advantage against it, that side can still win.</p> + +<p>"You have made the one mistake, the perpetual mistake, of combat. You +forgot about the psychological factor. The force that can make a man +surrender when the odds are with him, or fight like a demon when it is +hopeless.</p> + +<p>"So long as there is war, this psychological factor will make it an +even, undecided combat despite all laws of logic.</p> + +<p>"The psychological factor in this case, the one you overlooked, was that +I love my empire more than my wife. She was merely a companion. You +wouldn't know that, or the reasons for it, unless you knew my whole +life—and not just the events of my life, my whole psychological life."</p> + +<p>"Of course we couldn't know that," the enemy agent said, "but we could +go on general rules of human behavior, and those rules deny the fact +that a man can love a state more than a woman."</p> + +<p>"Good God!" Aron exclaimed. "What training do you Snooper boys get? You +don't even know the rudiments of psychology. Intelligence men—ha! All +you know how to do is steal papers, kill in the dark and be suspicious +of everyone all the time."</p> + +<p>In a quieter tone, Aron went on, "It is easy to love a state like a +woman, because a State is a woman.</p> + +<p>"A love for State fulfills all emotional needs. The censorship of +yourself by your super-ego, manifested in a desire for repentance or +masoschism, this need is effected by dedication such as my lonely watch +here.</p> + +<p>"Your destructive tendencies, half of the love-hate primary drive of +life, can be expressed by fighting and destroying an enemy. You can't +destroy your wife because of laws, yet everyone wants to.</p> + +<p>"The other half of the ambivalent drive, your love desire can be +committed in a platonic admiration or a patriotic zeal as you call it.</p> + +<p>"Sure, the State is a woman. It'll kick you around, neglect you and +abuse you; but when she rewards you, she does so lavishly. And this, +plus the self-satisfaction of having protected her from her enemies and +helping her to survive—this is all the consumation of a love affair +that a man could want.</p> + +<p>"I know, what about the physical love? If all your other emotional needs +are so well satisfied, you can be happy without that, especially if +you're used to it—"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>The agent interrupted. Aron knew he was not comprehending what he was +saying, the man was still in a state of shock. But Aron knew the words +were there, in the man's brain till he died. He could reason them out +later.</p> + +<p>"All right, all right," the agent said, "I am not here to argue +philosophy. I just want to know why our plans failed."</p> + +<p>"Since your wife's death didn't make you disillusioned enough to be +receptive to treason, weren't you at least impressed with our offers of +fabulous wealth and release from this prison?"</p> + +<p>Aron rose from his chair and walked to the window. He didn't notice the +agent and his menacing gun. He didn't care.</p> + +<p>He looked out at the lifeless sunset of the world that sported the bare +minimum of vegetation so it couldn't be insulted with the word "barren".</p> + +<p>"Just another case of Intelligence men's stupidity," Aron said so +quietly that the other man had to lean forward to hear. "Don't you know +anything about your own territorial administration or ours? Do you know +how they choose their men for these stations?"</p> + +<p>"No, that isn't our department," was the answer.</p> + +<p>Aron turned from the window and looked at him, seeming surprised to see +him and hear him.</p> + +<p>"Well, what sort of men would they choose? Where could they get men with +the intelligence and ability required to operate one of these stations +and cope with situations such as I've faced here? Where would they get +such men to renounce the brilliant careers they could have amongst +civilization with such capabilities?"</p> + +<p>"Damn it! Stop playing games. Spill what you've got to say!"</p> + +<p>Aron looked at him coldly, searchingly, "Since you are attached to the +Navy I imagine you've clocked many hours in space." When the agent +nodded, Aron said, "Then, if you are lucky and show enough sense, you +will become a TA man."</p> + +<p>Slowly, comprehension came to the Intelligence man. The gun clutched in +his hand lowered, his whole body slumped as he caught on to the fact +they had overlooked. The fact that caused the failure of their plans. +The fact that was his grim future.</p> + +<p>"Fermi radiations!" Aron barked. "They rot your cells, weaken the blood, +ruin the body. A man can spend about five years as a spaceman, about +twenty months of which is spent in actual space. Twenty months and the +man is doomed.</p> + +<p>"If the man is smart he can become a space officer, then when he retires +at twenty-five, he can land a good job with the TA. He doesn't want +anything to do with civilization. That five years has made him love +space, love isolation. So, they are willing to take these jobs, to be +put out to pasture on wayward planets until they die at thirty-five." It +was said with all the bitterness of a condemned man.</p> + +<p>"What use would I have of your offers, even if they were true. When I +finish, or rather, if I had finished my stay on Kligor, I'd only have a +few months till I die. Your pleasant little cries of adventure, luxury, +women, meant nothing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I just wanted to be alone to die."</p> + +<p>Now it was the enemy agent's turn to speak bitterly. "Then you planned +it all along. You led our men on, pretending you were going to aid us +while you were in our midst learning everything about us to destroy us.</p> + +<p>"You finally found the method, God knows where you dug up that fiendish +idea of sulphuric gas, but you planned and watched. I'll never know how +you were so lucky—and it was pure luck, but you did it. You destroyed +our base."</p> + +<p>With a smile, "Yes, I was lucky, I had a chance to end my life in a +final battle and victory. That's all a man can ask for."</p> + +<p>Aron was still smiling when the blast of the Intelligence man's gun blew +his head off.</p> + +<p>As he left the station, all the agent could think of was one phrase he +had heard many times jokingly; but now it became a grim accompaniment +for his footsteps. Though he didn't want to hear it, it kept whispering +through his mind every few seconds.</p> + +<p>"Live fast, fight hard, die young—and have a radiation-rotted corpse."</p> + +<p>Two hours later the United Empire fleet landed on Kligor. They came to +claim the sixty ships lying waiting—waiting—in the peaceful valley +that was still tainted with the smell of chlorine.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's For Every Man A Reason, by Patrick Wilkins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR EVERY MAN A REASON *** + +***** This file should be named 32293-h.htm or 32293-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/9/32293/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: For Every Man A Reason + +Author: Patrick Wilkins + +Release Date: May 8, 2010 [EBook #32293] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR EVERY MAN A REASON *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +Transcriber's note: + +This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction November 1954. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright +on this publication was renewed. + + + + + _Illustrated by Paul Orban_ + + BY PATRICK WILKINS + + FOR EVERY MAN A REASON + + _To love your wife is good; to love your State is good, too. But if + it comes to a question of survival, you have to love one better + than the other. Also, better than yourself. It was simple for the + enemy; they knew which one Aron was dedicated to...._ + + +The thunder of the jets died away, the sound drifting wistfully off into +the hills. The leaves that swirled in the air returned to the ground +slowly, reluctantly. + +The rocket had gone. + +Aron Myers realized that he was looking at nothing. He noticed that his +face was frozen into a meaningless smile. He let the smile slowly +dissolve as he turned to look at his wife. + +She was a small woman, and he realized for the first time how fragile +she was. Her piquant face, framed by long brown, flowing hair, was an +attractive jewel when set on the plush cushion of civilization. Now her +face, set in god-forsaken wilderness, metamorphosed into the frightened +mask of a small animal. + +They were alone. + +Two human beings alone on this wild, lonely planet. Aron's mind suddenly +snapped from that frame of reference--his subjective view of their +position--to the scale of galaxies. It was a big planet to them, but it +was a marble in the galaxy that man had discovered and claimed, and was +now fighting with himself to retain. This aggregate of millions of +pebbles was wracked with the violence of war, where marbles were more +expendable than the microbes that dwelt on them. + +The two walked hand in hand away from the meadow where the ship had +been. The feeble wind snuffled at the scraps of paper and trash, the +relics of man's passing. + +They walked up the hill to their station, the reason for their being on +this wayside planet. + +[Illustration] + +Aron thought about the scenery around them. The compact, utilitarian +building that was the station did not seem out of place against the +bleak landscape. The landscape did not clash or conform to its +location--it just didn't give a damn whether there was a building there +or not. + +Aron and Martha, his wife, took their time. They had an abundance of +that elusive quantity known as time at this lonely outpost. The trail up +to the station was rough, with rocks and weeds tearing at them. Aron +resolved that that would be one of his first projects, to put in a good +path to the meadow where the rocket would come for them--five years from +now. + +The sunset did nothing to enhance the countryside. There was not enough +dust in the air to create any striking colors. As the shadows began to +lap at the hill, they hurried the last few steps to the building. + + * * * * * + +That evening they were both nervous, justifiably so, for not only were +they starting on the questionable adventure of sequestered watchdogs on +the planet, they were starting the adventure of marriage. + +Aron had met Martha on Tyros, a planetary trade center of some +importance. She was a waitress. + +Since he was marking time on Tyros, waiting for his assignment, he had a +chance to cultivate her acquaintance. On their dates, what he had to +tell her about his life was brief, impersonal. + +Aron was in the Maintenance division of the Territorial Administration +and his duties were to hold posts on various planets and act as an +observer of that planet's caprices. + +The rush of mankind from Earth, like a maddened swarm of bees from a +hive, had carried it through the galaxy in a short time. On all the +discovered planets that had to be reserved for future inhabitants, the +Territorial Administration had set up observation stations. The men +posted there were merely to record such fascinating information as +meteorological and geographical conditions. + +When the time came to expand, the frail little creatures with the large +brains and larger egos would know the best havens for migration. + +Another reason for these stations was the war. When man had flung +himself madly at the galaxy, he had diffused himself thinly over a +macroscopic area. Some almost isolated colonies had developed the +inevitable thirst for independence. + +From local but violent wars between colonies, some semblance of order +had been wrought. Now there were two sprawling interstellar empires, the +United Empire--Aron and Martha were citizens--and the People's Republic. + +Since Aron's realm relied on industrial technology and agriculture and +the People's Republic based its economy on mining and trade, there +seemed to be plenty of room for consolidation. + +Unfortunately this consolidation, or even peaceful trading, was not +possible, due to the fact that the two dominions had entirely different +forms of government and religion. The result was, as always, war. + +These were the general facts that both Aron and Martha knew. What Aron +discussed with his fiance were the effects of this macropolitical +situation upon their personal lives. The previous posts that Aron had +held in the TA were planets in the interior of the United Empire. + +During his stay on Tyros, he received the assignment he expected. It was +a post on the fringe of the empire, a planet called Kligor. These +stations of the fringe served dual purposes, not only their usual +function of planetary observation but as military outposts to warn and +halt any attempted invasion. + +When he heard this assignment, Aron proposed, holding up to Martha the +prospect of comfortable living in civilization once the five year hitch +on Kligor was over. + +She consented--not really knowing if she loved him or not. + +They had been married the day they left. The space ship was so crowded +there was no chance for privacy, so the two had no honeymoon till they +reached the station. + + * * * * * + +Aron and his bride arrived on Kligor in what was autumn on the planet, +for the seasons were consistent in all hemispheres. + +Aron planned to spend a week at the station with his wife and then begin +a planetary check of the various automatic observation stations that +compiled the meteorological and other data and relayed it by radio to +the main station. This check had to be completed before snow came to the +planet. + +In that week they learned about each other. Neither of them was young +and both were mature and prosaic enough to develop the daily routine of +a long-married couple. There were many free hours which they would spend +talking about themselves. + +To Martha, marriage was not new. She had experienced matrimony before. +Her husband, a gambler, had killed himself after a bad loss, leaving her +with an impossible burden of debt and a disillusioned mind. + +Since then she had worked, gradually paying off his debts. When Aron had +come along, she liked the big man and thought that the years on Kligor +would give her respite from a demanding reality. + +She did not picture herself as a tragic figure, but rather as merely +competent and stable, not realizing that that attitude in itself is a +sure sign of instability. A smile seldom found her face. She was +slightly nervous with a tendency towards moodiness. + +Aron's history was not so bitter. He was born in a large family and had +formed an aloof, reserved nature to achieve a sense of individuality in +the group. His life had been spent in government work and he had never +tasted the variable brew of the nuptial cup till he met Martha. + +He was not a deep man in emotion. His nature was such that he had to be +constantly occupied with something--not the frenzied scurrying of +insecure individuals--but a solid problem that he could work out. A +project that he could carefully shape with a keen analytical mind or +capable hands. + +They did not think of each other in terms of these thumbnail sketches, +but merely watched and observed--and adjusted to each other. Their +marriage was almost one of convenience, with just enough affection +involved to oil over any disputes. + +The spell of the planet gradually lulled them into hypnotic acceptance +of their sequestered lives. Their daily duties became the only things +worth thinking about. + + * * * * * + +Aron learned about the planet in the next two months on his tours of +inspection. He used a small atmosphere flier to cover the various posts +scattered over its surface. + +The small blockhouses were automatic and hermetically sealed to preserve +the instruments, but something could go wrong and then it was his job to +fix it. + +As for the military defense system of Kligor, that was also automatic +but not Aron's responsibility. It was a series of artificial satellites +on the rim of the planetary system, with long-range detecting and +tracting systems that would activate and co-ordinate firing mechanisms +to blast any ship from the void. + +It was Aron's duty to de-activate them with a control in his station if +he was signalled by a pre-arranged code from a friendly United Republic +ship. That was all he had to, or could, do with them. + +The planetary stations were all in good shape except for minor repairs, +which Aron attended to with the quiet joy of a man who loves machinery. +He was home sooner than expected and just in time. The next day it began +to snow. + +The weather had opposite effects on the people in the station. Aron, +long used to such confinements, settled down and began reading some of +the great mass of books which he had brought, or working painstakingly +on hobbies. + +Martha grew more distraught as the snowbound months went by. The wild +enthusiasm of her youth had left her, but she was not stoic enough to +take the long confinement and inactivity. She tried to pick arguments, +but Aron wouldn't argue. She tried to get interested in some +time-consuming hobby, but she lacked the patience. + +Spring finally came. On the first nice day Martha went on a long walk to +watch the few flowers that Kligor boasted push their fragile buds into +the air. Aron spent the day working on the path and the clearing that +was a spaceport. + +When night came, he was alone at the station. + +Aron waited up all night, knowing it would be futile to search in the +dark, not knowing in which direction or how far she had gone on her +stroll. Aron was not too worried, since there were no dangerous animals. +She was probably lost or had a sprained ankle, in which case she would +have the sense to find a sheltered place and be safe for the night. + +When morning came he began searching. He used the atmosphere flier to +cruise over the nearby country. + +Up and down hillsides he flew the craft, gliding slowly at a low +altitude. He stopped over clumps of bushes for a careful scan, +occasionally roaring towards what looked like a piece of cloth, but +always turned out to be a bright stone. + +When he found her, he knew before he landed. She was sprawled at the +bottom of a high cliff. + +She was not pretty any more. She wasn't even a live animal, just dead +flesh lying there, smeared with blood and covered with tattered clothes. + +Aron remained in a stage of pre-shock, a state of cold clear +rationality, until he had taken her back to the station, dug a grave and +buried her. He wasn't sad, it was just a job to be done. This wasn't his +wife he was burying. + +It wasn't until that evening that the fact of her death penetrated and +was accepted by his mind. + + * * * * * + +The next few days were spent in routine actions. Aron relied on his +usual anodyne--work. The pathway and the meadow were filled with cement +by the end of the fifth day. + +He let his stunned mind become wrapped in the problem of completing this +job--the weight of the shovel in his hand, the heat of the sun on his +back--these were what he thought about. It was not a solution or even +escape, just a stall. + +The sixth day brought a visitor. + +The shock of someone knocking at the door, walking in, introducing +himself and sitting down to talk yanked Aron's mind into awareness. + +The only way to achieve a landing would be for a friendly ship to signal +him and have him de-activate the defenses--which definitely had not +happened! + +Therefore it was hallucination, a miracle, or at least an interesting +trick that this man had appeared at his station. Aron took interest, +demanding that the man start from the beginning again as he had missed +the introductions due to slight surprise. + +"I said I am Karl Rondwell, an agent and representative of the People's +Republic, being a member of the Intelligence department of her imperial +navy," the man replied. + +"The first question is, naturally," Aron said, "How the Hell did you get +here?" + +A slight smile. "Your much-vaunted defenses that are supposed to be able +to snuff out the mightiest fleet, these defenses are easy to pass--for +one man." + +Aron could see that easily enough. "What is your purpose here then?" + +"A deal, naturally!" + +"I imagined so. You will have to persuade me, because you can't remove +me and take over those defenses. Lack of knowledge of the proper code +would trip you up when our United Empire ships came snooping around as +they do so often." + +"Since we understand the rules of the game," the enemy agent said, +"let's proceed with it. + +"Let me begin with a discussion of civilization. You may have forgotten +something about it in your secluded life here." + +The agent went on to speak of civilization, its comforts. Since he was a +spy, he had spent a good deal of time in the United Republic. He spoke +in terms of a man with money, the plush night spots, the beautiful girls +that would be only too glad to be friendly with a wealthy man. + +"All right," Aron interrupted him. "That's clever oratory, but money +isn't all I'll take to sell out my empire. What else have you to offer, +and remember, I'm not buying--just looking." + +The agent made his case stronger by comparing plush civilization to the +futile hermit's existence of a TA observer, throwing in a few remarks +about the brevity of one's life to be wasted in such a barren pastime as +five years in solitary confinement. + +When he began talking about a comfortable married life in a civilized +community, he noticed Aron growing distraught. + +"Why does talk of marriage so disturb you?" he asked. + +Aron looked at him with a sneer in his eyes, "You must know, you check +your victims before you begin your Judas acts." + +With a rueful grin, the agent replied, "That is one place our agents +can't penetrate, your Personnel Records Office. You, being a hard man to +know, have made very few acquaintances that we could approach to get +your history." + +Silence. Then Aron said, "All right, here's a bone I'll toss you. You +may use it, I don't give a damn! + +"My wife died five days ago on this planet." He said it with vehemence, +probably imagining by some twist of thought that he was shocking, +hurting the enemy agent, whereas he actually was deliberately shocking +himself. Masochism. + +"Your wife?" the agent was amazed. "I didn't know your TA observers took +wives with them." + +"I'll bet you didn't know. Though, most of them don't, come to think of +it." + +The agent relaxed, lighted a cigarette--an ancient habit that cropped up +in all eras. + +"Men can take it," he began quietly. "Women are different. They can take +it if they want to, but it's hard to find the right woman; and even then +she must want to take it by being with the man she loves, or perhaps it +is psychological--martyring themselves to gain a subtle control of that +man, which they all want to do. + +"When you get a woman who can't, or doesn't want to take it, she can +pull a beautiful crack-up. Without friends to appreciate her martyrdom, +with a husband who refuses to acknowledge it, she sometimes uses the +supreme martyrdom to gain recognition." + +"Instinct tells me to slug you in the teeth," Aron said, "but apathy +forbids me." + +"Couldn't it be that you refuse to slug me because you want me to keep +talking? Because you recognize the truth, that your wife committed +suicide because of the loneliness and now your devotion to state has +become meaningless? 'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away' was the +old maxim, but 'the State only taketh away' is the new." + +There was more talk and some drinking, for the agent had conveniently +brought some choice liquor. + +The next morning, after they had arisen from where they had fallen +asleep in a stupor, the agent proposed his plan. With the disgust and +despair of the hangover, the agent's biting attack on his pride and his +state, Aron listened. Later the agent was no longer the enemy, but a +partner in a deal. + + * * * * * + +The next week the ships came. Twenty-seven proud cruisers of the +People's Republic; also troop and supply ships. They landed in the broad +valley on the main continent of Kligor, twenty miles from Aron's +station. + +The professional fighters emerged from their tools of war, the dull +hulls of the ships and the dark uniforms lapping up the pleasant +sunshine. The only reflection was from the polished bits of metal that +hung at their sides, bits of metal that could spit destruction in ten +different forms. + +They looked at the planet but did not see it, it was just their newly +gained base. They did not see the poignant beauty of the seemingly +senescent hills covered with wisps of green and bathed in blazing +sunshine. They only saw strategic positions, avenues of approach and +tactical advantages. + +The pebble had become a pawn. War had come to Kligor. The slow, subtle +weavings of individual threads of human psychology were ripped and +snarled as the Mass Effort took over. + +Conferences were held, land surveyed, machinery trundled from the +cavernous holds of supply ships and the base was begun. To the cadence +of barked orders, shuffling feet and grinding, pounding, thumping +machinery, the buildings rose, the men moved in. + +There was the usual bustle of a new military operation, the normal +tension of a top-secret operation, the usual bungling and mix-up of +supplies. But there was a slightly different attitude toward the +gradually growing base. This was not a standard military location, one +that had existed for years, or an enemy one that had been captured, or +even a piece of ground that had been paid for in blasted hulks and +smashed bodies. + +This gain was by treason. + +Naturally then, the men felt contempt for the operation and their +contempt was manifested in sloppiness. The commanding officers would +ordinarily have become raging martinets at such lax discipline and +slovenliness, but the taint and contempt of treasonous gain was upon +them also. + +This contempt was displayed openly whenever the Traitor came to the +base. Weak egos must be flattered by derision of others. They would have +killed him as a matter of course, if he hadn't been clever enough to +refuse to relinquish the secret codes which allowed the friendly ships +to pass. Torture was obsolete, for hypnosis allowed a victim to die +before he could reveal secret information. + +He came every week to get free supplies and have conferences with the +Intelligence men. The Traitor would walk the freshly-laid sidewalk +boldly, his head up, his eyes flashing about to take in every new +building. + +The soldiers hazed him, spitting at him, bumping into him, glaring and +swearing at him; but he always reciprocated with such a withering look +of contempt that they soon grew tired of the sport. + +The worst day for the Traitor, alias Aron Myers, was when he went into +the Soldier's Club to quench his thirst of a hot day. Since it was a +week-end and there was nowhere to go on what few week-end passes were +given, the Club was packed. + +In the dimmed-light atmosphere, the black uniforms made the place seem +filled with vagrant and ominous shadows with white faces. The noise was +almost unbearable and Aron had a mind to leave. + +He was confronted by a group of these shadows. They were all the same, +indistinguishable in their identical uniforms, crew-cuts and young, +arrogant faces. + +"Hello Mr. Myers," one of them said. "Won't you join us in a drink?" + +When he started to demur, they interrupted, "But we insist, Mr. Myers." +One took him by an arm and led him to a table. + +"After all," they said as the drinks came up, "We owe you at least a +drink for giving us such a nice new base and everything, now don't we." +It was sarcasm, and hammy sarcasm at that, Aron thought. + +He recognized the situation as another case of hazing, but this time by +a group of soldiers made even more obnoxious and bellicose by the liquor +in their guts. + +"You don't owe me anything," Aron said, "I gave it to you for my own +reasons and not for money." Sure enough, they even came out with the +corny laughter. + +He let them play out their little satire without protest. Their +grandiose courtesy towards him, the toasts drunk in his honor. That is, +until one of them, more drunk than the others, said, "Mr. Myers, I hope +you don't mind my telling you, but you are a--." The epithet was a new +slang word but its vileness stemmed from prehistoric days. + +Aron replied with blazing eyes. "I can't insult you back and you know +it. I don't want to be killed that badly. All I can say is: + +"Who are you to judge me? You are blind little men in a cage trying to +judge someone on the outside. + +"Your hearts and minds have been forged in the crucible of duty and +battle. You live for your uniforms and the distinction those uniforms +bring you. You live to fight and die, to spend your spare time in dank, +noisy holes like this. Drinking and lying to each other about your +adventures and love-life. + +"Then you try to judge galactic politics and the decisions of a man +caught up in the rip tides of these politics, when all you know is your +own vicious lives. You are traitors as much as any man, for you have +sacrificed your normal lives to dedicate yourself to the violent +dead-end of a soldier of space. + +"Yes, you know what I am talking about, the Fermi radiations! The hard +radiations of space that make every person who stays in space any length +of time a sure candidate for an early grave. + +"You're young now, so terribly young, only twenty or so years old in a +possible life-span of a hundred years. + +"You are traitors to yourselves by rejecting this life-span for a few +brief years of glory as a soldier, then a slow decay for ten years till +you are in a grave at thirty or forty. + +"Your motto ought to be, 'live fast, fight hard, die young and have a +radiation-rotted corpse'. + +"And yet you condemn a man because he tries to seek a few comforts from +an uncomfortable, implacable universe." + +They didn't get it. They never get it, he thought ruefully. They +continued in their cat and mouse game until they realized the mouse +refused to be terrified, then they let him go. + +During the next few weeks, someone started the rumor that the Traitor +was actually a native of the People's Republic who had been trained and +then planted in the United Empire's TA to do this job for Intelligence. +The soldiers quickly believed it and almost came to respect the Traitor. + + * * * * * + +From the way that the Intelligence officers freely talked about +classified information with him in his weekly visits, Aron was aware +that they would probably kill him once his usefulness was over. He was +devising ways, though, to get around that at the last minute. + +From this knowledge that had been blatantly tossed in front of him, he +knew how strategic Kligor was in the stalemated war between the empires. + +The People's Republic now had a fair-sized striking force based there, +so that when an all-out offensive, which was scheduled in a few weeks, +started, this hidden force could attack United Republic's squadrons from +the rear and be doubly effective because of surprise. + +So the weeks trotted by, the soldiers' camp expanding daily as the +Traitor let the supply ships through the barrier. There are moods in war +just as in people. This was a crucial point, the People's Republic had +gained a slight edge by its gain on Kligor. So the usual pitch of +anticipation was infused with the higher excitement of a sure victory. + +The days were slipping furtively away as the Kligor garrison gathered +itself together, crouched and got ready to spring into blind, violent +action on the big day. + +The laughter of the soldiers was tinged with nervous hysteria, but when +they thought of that grim array of defense satellites, with its +all-seeing eyes, its electronic brain, its steel guts and large parcel +of hell in its fist, all this United Empire strength protecting them, +their laughter grew louder and more sincere. + + * * * * * + +Aron thanked providence that Kligor didn't have any moons. This +particular night called for every ebony patch of darkness that he could +find. + +He was on a nocturnal visit to the base, not using his flier. He knew +there were guards posted near his station that would notify the camp +when this craft was used. Slipping out the night before and avoiding the +guards, Aron had begun the twenty mile hike to the base. + +As he neared the base his precautions increased, his speed decreasing +proportionately. Avoiding the outer ring of guards was easy, as they +were spaced far apart. Moving in undetected, through the tighter nets of +guards around the camp, required the skill and patience of a feline. + +That this base should have foot soldiers patrolling the ground around it +seemed absurd on the face of it, especially to the men who had to do it. +The planet was uninhabited and their only worry was from the skies above +where the TA satellites defended them. + +The Intelligence officers knew better. They knew how easily one man +could slip through these defences. One man at a time, for several weeks, +and a sizable ground force could be built up in some remote spot on +Kligor. It was a long shot probability, but it was their duty to protect +against such a probability destroying what they had achieved. + +There was also a traitor, one of those fluctuating spineless things, +loose on the planet--a clever man who couldn't be trusted by anyone. + +This lack of trust was justified as Aron crawled and inched his way +through the last circle of sentries. His whole body was a detecting +device, listening for footsteps, watching for dim figures in the dark, +even his nose was waiting to detect the odor of a cigarette. + +According to the paper he had been lucky enough to read in the +Intelligence offices when they weren't looking, he knew the Captain of +the guards should be making an inspection about then. The seconds hung +suspended, reluctant to pass, and Aron waited. + +The Captain finally showed up, walking briskly, a smile on his face. +This smile was rudely erased and all future occasions for smiles removed +by a swiftly moving figure that plunged a knife into his throat before +his mind could translate the shock into a cry of alarm. + +More movement on the path and a new Captain of the guards emerged, +walking just as briskly, but in a new direction. + +The People's Republic's base occupied the narrow end of the valley, with +a canyon entrance serving as the apex of the triangle it covered. Near +this apex were the buildings, the dozens of barracks and administrative +buildings, all dwarfed by the massive concrete warehouses set around +them against the hills. In these warehouses were the fuel, food and +munitions of the enemy. + +Below these buildings were the ships, first the rows of the 27 warships +and then the 40 or so cargo and troop ships. These supply ships made up +the base of the triangle. From the air these ships looked like a tiny +forest of needles stuck upright in the ground, but from close range on +the ground, where Aron walked in the captain's uniform, they were +mammoth towers of steel--again, a matter of scale. + +He emerged from the sentry lines near the cargo ships. These were all +sealed and unoccupied and he passed the rows of them without a glance. +It was a long walk, for the ships were hundreds of feet apart. The open +field where they rested had the rough ground of a meadow, making his +attempted military stride more of a burlesque jerky gait while he tried +not to stumble. + +There was a guard outside the airlock of each of the warships, for the +crews remained aboard constantly. These guards were standing around +talking to friends or moving restlessly about. + +The sentries saluted Aron as he marched by, for they could see the brass +on his uniform gleaming in the dark. He found what he wanted, a group of +four guards talking by one airlock. They snapped to attention as he +approached. + +The base had expanded so rapidly, with new units and men being shifted +constantly, that Aron counted on the men not knowing exactly who the +Captain of the guards should be. All the sentries knew was the insignia +of the Captain was before them and the man who wore them was to be +obeyed. + +His orders sent a chill of alarm through them. He said he had received a +report of someone slipping through the guards and moving among the cargo +ships. Since the soldiers were needed to patrol, he wanted these men to +gather all the warship guards together and search the area of the cargo +ships. + +In answer to the question in their eyes, he said he knew the warships +would be unguarded but he was ordering a special detail to replace them +immediately. + +The four dispersed and, in a few minutes, all of the lock guards had +left their posts and were moving down to the cargo ships. + +Time was the critical element now. Aron had taken a terrific chance by +donning the Captain's uniform, but he had pulled off the bluff and now +he had to capitalize on it--fast! + +While the ship sentries were on their futile search, he ran from ship to +ship, jumped into the open airlocks and worked quickly with pliers and a +screwdriver. It was a little trick that he had learned from a talkative +spaceman in a bar many years ago. It worked on any ship. Disconnect a +tiny spring, cut a wire, and it was impossible to close the massive +airlock door. + +Aron wanted very badly to have those doors stay open. + +Twenty-seven ships, hundreds of feet apart. He was on his last five when +the search was abandoned and the sentries began returning. He hoped they +would react normally, taking their time, dragging their feet and talking +to each other in disgust about the wild goose chase. + +On the last two ships he had to use different tactics. The sentinels had +returned. When he walked up to them, they came to attention sullenly, +waiting the chance to deride the usual stupidity of the soldiers and +their Captain. + +Instead, they had their throats cut. + +Finishing the last airlock, Aron then walked through the post. Right up +the main street he strode, his heart in his throat but his step and +demeanor firm. The time of night helped him, for there were few soldiers +about that might recognize him, and what few patches of light were +thrown out from windows and doors were quickly swallowed by the black +maw of darkness. + +Up the main street, past the barracks, towards the last warehouse at the +head of the valley. The two pillars of rock that marked the opening of +the canyon served as a background for the massive blank walls of this +warehouse. + +At the little door set in the center of the front wall there was a +sentry. He was grumbling to himself about having to do such a damn-fool +thing as guard a warehouse when there wasn't an enemy within light years +of the building. + +He was wrong. And the enemy killed him. + +Inside the warehouse, there being no lock on the door, Aron groped about +in the stuffy, pitch blackness till he came to a little fire station set +against a wall. There was a locker containing an insulated suit, hatchet +and other fire-fighting equipment, at this station. + +He donned the fire-fighting suit and helmet and went to one end of the +building that was walled-off. In this separate room was the emergency +power supply for the base. There was a turbine with a fuel supply and +tiers of high-voltage storage batteries. There was also a fire hose on +one wall because of the presence of the combustible turbine fuel. + + * * * * * + +Aron had to pause for a minute to gather his thoughts. He had come so +far, so fast through the first steps of his plan and now he was ready +for the final action. + +What Aron now needed for success was three things. Sulphuric acid and +salt water in large quantities and the right wind. + +The first two had been thoughtfully provided by the People's Republic. +The third was a matter of waiting. The land on Kligor was dry. What +little water supplies were available weren't enough to maintain a base +the size the garrison had built. Since the ocean was only fifteen miles +from the valley where the base was located, it was a simple matter to +pipe in water. + +One of the mammoth cargo ships had been loaded with six inch flexible +hose, tougher than steel, wound on drums. It was a matter of a day's +work to fly the ship slowly from the ocean to the base, laying out +fifteen miles of this flexible pipe on the ground. + +It was salt water, then, that was received at the base. Most of it was +filtered through a chemical plant in the valley to make fresh water, but +it was salt water that was available to the fire hoses for the needed +quantity and pressure. + +The emergency power supply and the fire hoses were only normal safety +precautions, but now, in the hands of the Traitor, they became deadly +weapons. + +By pushing the lever that removed the lids from the storage batteries +automatically for inspection he had sulphuric acid--for the law of +conservation of energy said that man had achieved the highest efficiency +of electro-chemical conversion, in practical form, in the lead acid +storage battery. + +After finding the light switch and flipping it on, Aron found this lever +and released it. Now all he needed was wind, and he had that, blowing a +cool ten miles an hour down the canyon and over the valley. He had to +consult the weather maps at his station for weeks to determine the +probability of this wind occurring and the weather conditions that +produced it. One small breeze to chart, when his recording instruments +gave hourly descriptions of the whole planet's climate. It wasn't too +hard a job. + +Yet that breeze had to be at the right time, at night and on the night +he wanted. Close enough to the attack date to be effective yet not too +soon. Last night his instruments recorded the data that would produce +this wind, so he was making his strike tonight. + +He could not stand and gloat exultantly over his success. There were +dead sentries and sprung airlocks that might be discovered. + +With a twist of a nozzle, the fire hose came to life, throwing a pulsing +stream of water on the batteries. + +What Aron had done by ingenuity, luck, daring and careful planning was +finished. It was now nature's turn. + + * * * * * + +The next night after his one man attack on the base, Aron had a visitor +at his weather station. The visitor was in sad shape. His clothing was +disheveled, his face dirty and unshaven, his eyes bloodshot and he +seemed to be on the verge of a mental collapse with a frantic gleam to +his eye. + +But he held a pistol in his hand and Aron didn't. + +He was an officer of the Intelligence Corps of the People's Republic. It +was not the officer who had first visited Aron, but one of the others +that Aron had come vaguely to know, like picking out sheep from a flock. + +He had been away from the base on a planetary reconnaissance mission the +night before. Since then he had gone through a nightmare ordeal. + +He had returned to his base to find sixty ships of the People's Republic +about to fall into enemy hands without a struggle, because 200,000 men +were dead or dying of chlorine gas poisoning. + +The gas that had come pouring out of the warehouse at the head of the +valley last night. It had billowed down the valley, its streamers and +tentacles pushed by the gentle wind bringing the sleeping men awake +coughing and gasping only to fall asleep again--permanently. + +It had seeped through the barracks, the warehouses and into the open +airlocks of ships, while dying men tried frantically to close those +locks. They wouldn't close though, and the spacemen died puzzled as to +why not. + +In galactic warfare, with the emphasis on speed, maneuverability, range +and power of space cannon, et cetera, everyone had forgotten an archaic +weapon--gas. Aron hadn't. + +After the horror of this discovery, the Intelligence officer had taken a +flier to Aron's station. + +He was feeling justifiably sorry for himself and his empire's thwarted +plans for conquest, now completely impossible since the United Empire +had been notified of the impending attack, and since the most strategic +part of that attack, the Kligor task force, had been destroyed. + +His military mind refused to admit that one man, the Traitor, Aron, +could have caused this tragic defeat. He was willing, however, to vent +his desire for revenge on this one man. + +Aron was unmoved by his threats and denunciations. The Intelligence man +was going to kill him, certainly, but the officer wanted to make him +suffer first, to make him squirm. + +When one man has defeated and completely made fools of a galactic +empire, killing is too simple. + +"We weren't stupid enough to try to coerce you with pure logic," the +agent was saying to Aron. "We knew you must have a large amount of +patriotism to even take such a thankless job as this Kligor post." + +"There had to be something else, some stronger reason to make you reject +your empire." + +Aron watched him warily. He could tell by the malevolent gleam of the +Intelligence man's eye and the sneer that he was playing a trump, that +he had a choice bit of information he thought would hurt Aron. All Aron +could do was listen. + +"You came here happily married and full of patriotic zeal," the armed +man said. "That way you were no prospect for us. + +"We changed those conditions by a very simple act. + +"We killed your wife." + +[Illustration] + +The officer watched him like a hungry animal, waiting for the reaction. + +The reaction was a pitying smile and the following words. + +"Why don't you sit down. I know you are going to kill me, there's +nothing I can do about it and, actually, I don't object. But I would +like to say several things first and you might as well be comfortable +while I'm talking. + +"I want to speak my piece mostly to clarify my ideas before death, but +also so that you, who will continue to live, will be able to think about +them in the future." + +While the agent sat down with a puzzled look, Aron continued, "That is +why, when there is combat between men, it will always be in doubt. Even +though one side may be outnumbered, outmaneuvered and have all the +military laws of advantage against it, that side can still win. + +"You have made the one mistake, the perpetual mistake, of combat. You +forgot about the psychological factor. The force that can make a man +surrender when the odds are with him, or fight like a demon when it is +hopeless. + +"So long as there is war, this psychological factor will make it an +even, undecided combat despite all laws of logic. + +"The psychological factor in this case, the one you overlooked, was that +I love my empire more than my wife. She was merely a companion. You +wouldn't know that, or the reasons for it, unless you knew my whole +life--and not just the events of my life, my whole psychological life." + +"Of course we couldn't know that," the enemy agent said, "but we could +go on general rules of human behavior, and those rules deny the fact +that a man can love a state more than a woman." + +"Good God!" Aron exclaimed. "What training do you Snooper boys get? You +don't even know the rudiments of psychology. Intelligence men--ha! All +you know how to do is steal papers, kill in the dark and be suspicious +of everyone all the time." + +In a quieter tone, Aron went on, "It is easy to love a state like a +woman, because a State is a woman. + +"A love for State fulfills all emotional needs. The censorship of +yourself by your super-ego, manifested in a desire for repentance or +masoschism, this need is effected by dedication such as my lonely watch +here. + +"Your destructive tendencies, half of the love-hate primary drive of +life, can be expressed by fighting and destroying an enemy. You can't +destroy your wife because of laws, yet everyone wants to. + +"The other half of the ambivalent drive, your love desire can be +committed in a platonic admiration or a patriotic zeal as you call it. + +"Sure, the State is a woman. It'll kick you around, neglect you and +abuse you; but when she rewards you, she does so lavishly. And this, +plus the self-satisfaction of having protected her from her enemies and +helping her to survive--this is all the consumation of a love affair +that a man could want. + +"I know, what about the physical love? If all your other emotional needs +are so well satisfied, you can be happy without that, especially if +you're used to it--" + +The agent interrupted. Aron knew he was not comprehending what he was +saying, the man was still in a state of shock. But Aron knew the words +were there, in the man's brain till he died. He could reason them out +later. + +"All right, all right," the agent said, "I am not here to argue +philosophy. I just want to know why our plans failed." + +"Since your wife's death didn't make you disillusioned enough to be +receptive to treason, weren't you at least impressed with our offers of +fabulous wealth and release from this prison?" + +Aron rose from his chair and walked to the window. He didn't notice the +agent and his menacing gun. He didn't care. + +He looked out at the lifeless sunset of the world that sported the bare +minimum of vegetation so it couldn't be insulted with the word "barren". + +"Just another case of Intelligence men's stupidity," Aron said so +quietly that the other man had to lean forward to hear. "Don't you know +anything about your own territorial administration or ours? Do you know +how they choose their men for these stations?" + +"No, that isn't our department," was the answer. + +Aron turned from the window and looked at him, seeming surprised to see +him and hear him. + +"Well, what sort of men would they choose? Where could they get men with +the intelligence and ability required to operate one of these stations +and cope with situations such as I've faced here? Where would they get +such men to renounce the brilliant careers they could have amongst +civilization with such capabilities?" + +"Damn it! Stop playing games. Spill what you've got to say!" + +Aron looked at him coldly, searchingly, "Since you are attached to the +Navy I imagine you've clocked many hours in space." When the agent +nodded, Aron said, "Then, if you are lucky and show enough sense, you +will become a TA man." + +Slowly, comprehension came to the Intelligence man. The gun clutched in +his hand lowered, his whole body slumped as he caught on to the fact +they had overlooked. The fact that caused the failure of their plans. +The fact that was his grim future. + +"Fermi radiations!" Aron barked. "They rot your cells, weaken the blood, +ruin the body. A man can spend about five years as a spaceman, about +twenty months of which is spent in actual space. Twenty months and the +man is doomed. + +"If the man is smart he can become a space officer, then when he retires +at twenty-five, he can land a good job with the TA. He doesn't want +anything to do with civilization. That five years has made him love +space, love isolation. So, they are willing to take these jobs, to be +put out to pasture on wayward planets until they die at thirty-five." It +was said with all the bitterness of a condemned man. + +"What use would I have of your offers, even if they were true. When I +finish, or rather, if I had finished my stay on Kligor, I'd only have a +few months till I die. Your pleasant little cries of adventure, luxury, +women, meant nothing. + +"I just wanted to be alone to die." + +Now it was the enemy agent's turn to speak bitterly. "Then you planned +it all along. You led our men on, pretending you were going to aid us +while you were in our midst learning everything about us to destroy us. + +"You finally found the method, God knows where you dug up that fiendish +idea of sulphuric gas, but you planned and watched. I'll never know how +you were so lucky--and it was pure luck, but you did it. You destroyed +our base." + +With a smile, "Yes, I was lucky, I had a chance to end my life in a +final battle and victory. That's all a man can ask for." + +Aron was still smiling when the blast of the Intelligence man's gun blew +his head off. + +As he left the station, all the agent could think of was one phrase he +had heard many times jokingly; but now it became a grim accompaniment +for his footsteps. Though he didn't want to hear it, it kept whispering +through his mind every few seconds. + +"Live fast, fight hard, die young--and have a radiation-rotted corpse." + +Two hours later the United Empire fleet landed on Kligor. They came to +claim the sixty ships lying waiting--waiting--in the peaceful valley +that was still tainted with the smell of chlorine. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's For Every Man A Reason, by Patrick Wilkins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR EVERY MAN A REASON *** + +***** This file should be named 32293.txt or 32293.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/9/32293/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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. 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