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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/32615-h.zip b/32615-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cae85d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/32615-h.zip diff --git a/32615-h/32615-h.htm b/32615-h/32615-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b131cf2 --- /dev/null +++ b/32615-h/32615-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1788 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Hell Ship, by Ray Palmer. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* 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 */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.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; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hell Ship, by Raymond Alfred Palmer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Hell Ship + +Author: Raymond Alfred Palmer + +Release Date: May 31, 2010 [EBook #32615] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HELL SHIP *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<h1>The HELL SHIP</h1> + +<h2>By Ray Palmer</h2> + + +<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science +Fiction March 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="sidenote"><i>The passengers rocketed through space in luxury. But they +never went below decks because rumor had it that Satan himself manned +the controls of The Hell Ship.</i></div> + + +<p>The giant space liner swung down in a long arc, hung for an instant on +columns of flame, then settled slowly into the blast-pit. But no hatch +opened; no air lock swung out; no person left the ship. It lay there, +its voyage over, waiting.</p> + + + +<p>The thing at the controls had great corded man-like arms. Its skin was +black with stiff fur. It had fingers ending in heavy talons and eyes +bulging from the base of a massive skull. Its body was ponderous, heavy, +inhuman.</p> + +<p>After twenty minutes, a single air lock swung clear and a dozen armed +men in Company uniforms went aboard. Still later, a truck lumbered up, +the cargo hatch creaked aside, and a crane reached its long neck in for +the cargo.</p> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>Still no creature from the ship was seen to emerge. The truck driver, +idly smoking near the hull, knew this was the <i>Prescott</i>, in from the +Jupiter run—that this was the White Sands Space Port. But he didn't +know what was inside the <i>Prescott</i> and he'd been told it wasn't healthy +to ask.</p> + +<p>Gene O'Neil stood outside the electrified wire that surrounded the White +Sands port and thought of many things. He thought of the eternal secrecy +surrounding space travel; of the reinforced hush-hush enshrouding +Company ships. No one ever visited the engine rooms. No one in all the +nation had ever talked with a spaceman. Gene thought of the glimpse he'd +gotten of the thing in the pilot's window. Then his thoughts drifted +back to the newsrooms of Galactic Press Service; to Carter in his plush +office.</p> + +<p>"Want to be a hero, son?"</p> + +<p>"Who, me? Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next day."</p> + +<p>"Don't be cute. It's an assignment. Get into White Sands."</p> + +<p>"Who tried last?"</p> + +<p>"Jim Whiting."</p> + +<p>"Where is Whiting now?"</p> + +<p>"Frankly we don't know. But—"</p> + +<p>"And the four guys who tried before Whiting?"</p> + +<p>"We don't know. But we'd like to find out."</p> + +<p>"Try real hard. Maybe you will."</p> + +<p>"Cut it out. You're a newspaperman aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"God help me, yes. But there's no way."</p> + +<p>"There's a way. There's always a way. Like Whiting and the others. Your +pals."</p> + +<p>Back at the port looking through the hot wire. <i>Sure there was a way. +Ask questions out loud. Then sit back and let them throw a noose around +you. And there was a place where you could do the sitting in complete +comfort. Where Whiting had done it—but only to vanish off the face of +the earth. Damn Carter to all hell!</i></p> + +<p>Gene turned and walked up the sandy road toward the place where the +gaudy neons of the Blue Moon told hard working men where they could +spend their money. The Blue Moon. It was quite a place.</p> + +<p>Outside, beneath the big crescent sign, Gene stopped to watch the crowds +eddying in and out. Then he went in, to watch them cluster around the +slot machines and bend in eager rows over the view slots of the peep +shows.</p> + +<p>He moved into the bar, dropped on one of the low stools. He ordered a +beer and let his eyes drift around.</p> + +<p>A man sat down beside him. He was husky, tough looking. "Ain't you the +guy who's been asking questions about the crews down at the Port?"</p> + +<p>Gene felt it coming. He looked the man over. His heavy face was flushed +with good living, eyes peculiarly direct of stare as if he was trying to +keep them from roving suspiciously by force of will. He was well +dressed, and his heavy hands twinkled with several rather large +diamonds. The man went on: "I can give you the information you want—for +a price, of course." He nodded toward an exit. "Too public in here, +though."</p> + +<p>Gene grinned without mirth as he thought, <i>move over Whiting—here I +come</i>, and followed the man toward the door.</p> + +<p>Outside the man waited, and Gene moved up close.</p> + +<p>"You see, it's this way...."</p> + +<p>Something exploded against Gene's skull. Even as fiery darkness closed +down he knew he'd found <i>the way</i>. But only a stupid newspaperman would +take it. Damn Carter!</p> + +<p>Gene went out.</p> + +<p>He seemed to be dreaming. Over him bent a repulsive, man-like face. But +the man had fingernails growing on his chin where his whiskers should +have been. And his eyes were funny—walled, as though he bordered on +idiocy. In the dream, Gene felt himself strapped into a hammock. Then +something pulled at him and made a terrible racket for a long time. Then +it got very quiet except for a throbbing in his head. He went back to +sleep.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>She had on a starched white outfit, but it wasn't a nurse's uniform. +There wasn't much skirt, and what there was of it was only the back +part. The neckline plunged to the waist and stopped there. It was a +peculiar outfit for a nurse to be wearing. But it looked familiar.</p> + +<p>Her soft hands fixed something over his eyes, something cold and wet. He +felt grateful, but kept on trying to remember. Ah, he had it; the girls +wore that kind of outfit in the Blue Moon in one of the skits they did, +burlesquing a hospital. He took off the wet cloth and looked again.</p> + +<p>She was a dream. Even with her lips rouge-scarlet, her cheeks pink with +makeup, her eyes heavy with artifice.</p> + +<p>"What gives, beautiful?" He was surprised at the weakness of his voice.</p> + +<p>Her voice was hard, but nice, and it was bitter, as though she wanted +hard people to know she knew the score, could be just a little harder. +"You're a spaceman now! Didn't you know?"</p> + +<p>Gene grinned weakly. "I don't know a star from a street light. Nobody +gets on the space crews these days—it's a closed union."</p> + +<p>Her laugh was full of a knowledge denied him. "That's what I used to +think!"</p> + +<p>She began to unstrap him from the hammock. Then she pushed back his +hair, prodded at the purple knob on his head with careful fingertips.</p> + +<p>"How come you're on this ship?" asked Gene, wincing but letting her +fingers explore.</p> + +<p>"Shanghaied, same as you. I'm from the Blue Moon. I stepped out between +acts for a breath of fresh air, and wham, a sack over the head and here +I am. They thought you might have a cracked skull. One of the monsters +told me to check you. No doctor on the ship."</p> + +<p>Gene groaned. "Then I didn't dream it—there is a guy on this ship with +fingernails instead of a beard on his chin!"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "You haven't seen anything yet!"</p> + +<p>"Why are we here?"</p> + +<p>"You've been shanghaied to work the ship, I'm here for a different +purpose—these men can't get off the ship and they've got to be kept +contented. We've got ourselves pleasant jobs, with monsters for +playmates, and we can't get fired. It'll be the rottenest time of our +lives, and the <i>rest</i> of our lives, as far as I can see."</p> + +<p>Gene sank down, put the compress back on his bump. "I don't get it."</p> + +<p>"You will. I'm not absolutely sure I'm right, but I know a little more +about it than you."</p> + +<p>"What's your name?"</p> + +<p>"They call me Queenie Brant. A name that fits this business. My real +name is Ann O'Donnell."</p> + +<p>"Queenie's a horse's name—I'll call you Ann. Me, I'm Gene O'Neil."</p> + +<p>"That makes us both Irish," she said. He lifted the compress and saw the +first really natural smile on her face. It was a sweet smile, +introspective, dewy, young.</p> + +<p>"You were only a dancer." He said it flatly.</p> + +<p>For a long instant she looked at him, "Thanks. You got inside the gate +on that one."</p> + +<p>"It's in your eyes. I'm glad to know you, Ann. And I'd like to know you +better."</p> + +<p>"You will. There'll be plenty of time; we're bound for Io."</p> + +<p>"Where's Io?"</p> + +<p>"One of Jupiter's moons, you Irish ignoramus. It has quite a colony +around the mines. Also it has a strange race of people. But Ann +O'Donnell is going to live there if she can get off this ship. I don't +want fingernails growing on <i>my</i> chin."</p> + +<p>O'Neil sat up. "I get it now! It's something about the atomic drive that +changes the crew!"</p> + +<p>"What else?"</p> + +<p>Gene looked at Ann, let his eyes rove over her figure.</p> + +<p>"Take a good look," she said bitterly. "Maybe it won't stay like this +very long!"</p> + +<p>"We've <i>got</i> to get off this ship!" said Gene hoarsely.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The door of the stateroom opened. A sharp-nosed face peered in, followed +by a misshapen body of a man in a dirty blue uniform. Hair grew thick +all around his neck and clear up to his ears. It also covered the skin +from chin to shirt opening. The hair bristled, coarse as an animal's. +His voice was thick, his words hissing as though his tongue was too +heavy to move properly.</p> + +<p>"Captain wants you, O'Neil."</p> + +<p>Gene got up, took a step. He went clear across the room, banged against +the wall. The little man laughed.</p> + +<p>"We're in space," Ann said. "We have a simulated gravity about a quarter +normal. Here, let me put on your metal-soled slippers. They're +magnetized to hold you to the floor." She bent and slipped the things on +his feet, while Gene held his throbbing head.</p> + +<p>The little man opened the door and went out. Gene followed, his feet +slipping along awkwardly. After a minute his nausea lessened. At the end +of the long steel corridor the little man knocked, then opened the door +to a low rumble of command. He didn't enter, just stood aside for Gene. +Gene walked in, stood staring.</p> + +<p>The eyes in the face he saw were black pools of nothingness, without +emotion, yet behind them an active mind was apparent. Gene realized this +hairy thing was the Captain—even though he didn't even wear a shirt!</p> + +<p>"You've shanghaied me," said Gene. "I don't like it."</p> + +<p>The voice was huge and cold, like wind from an ice field. "None of us +like it, chum. But the ships have got to sail. You're one of us now, +because we're on our way and by the time you get there, there'll be no +place left for you to work, unless it's in a circus as a freak."</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask for it," said Gene.</p> + +<p>"You did. You wanted to know too much about the crew—and if you found +out, you'd spread it. You see, the drives are not what they were cooked +up to be—the atomics leak, and it wasn't found out until too late. +After they learned, they hid the truth, because the cargo we bring is +worth millions. All the shielding they've used so far only seems to make +it worse. But that won't stop the ships—they'll get crews the way they +got you, and nosey people will find out more than they bargain for."</p> + +<p>"I won't take it sitting down!" said Gene angrily.</p> + +<p>The Captain ignored him. "Start saying sir. It's etiquette aboard ship +to say sir to the Captain."</p> + +<p>"I'll never say sir to anyone who got me into this...."</p> + +<p>The Captain knocked him down.</p> + +<p>Gene had plenty of time to block the blow. He had put up his arms, but +the big fist went right through and crashed against his chin. Gene sat +down hard, staring up at the hairy thing that had once been a man. He +suddenly realized the Captain was standing there waiting for an excuse +to kill him.</p> + +<p>Through split and bleeding lips, while his stomach turned over and his +head seemed on the point of bursting, Gene said: "Yes, sir!"</p> + +<p>The Captain turned his back, sat down again. He shoved aside a mass of +worn charts, battered instruments, cigar butts, ashtrays with statuettes +of naked girls in a half-dozen startling poses, comic books, illustrated +magazines with sexy pictures, and made a space on the top. He thrust +forward a sheet of paper. He picked up a fountain pen, flirted it so +that ink spattered the tangle of junk on his desk, then handed it to +Gene. "Sign on the dotted line."</p> + +<p>Gene picked up the document. It was an ordinary kind of form, an +application for employment as a spacehand, third class. The ship was not +named, but merely called a cargo boat. This was the paper the Company +needed to keep the investigators satisfied that no one was forced to +work on the ships against their will. Anger blinded him. He didn't take +the pen. He just stood looking at the Captain and wondering how to keep +himself from being beaten to death.</p> + +<p>After a long moment of silence the Captain laid the pen down, grinned +horribly. He gave a snort. "It's just a formality. I'm supposed to turn +these things over to the authorities, but they never bother us anymore. +Sign it later, after you've learned. You'll be <i>glad</i> to sign, then."</p> + +<p>"What's my job, Captain?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Jorgens, and don't forget the sir!"</p> + +<p>"Captain Jorgens, sir."</p> + +<p>"I'll put you with the Chief Engineer. He'll find work for you down in +the pile room."</p> + +<p>The Captain laughed a nasty laugh, repeating the last phrase with +relish. "The pile room! There's a place for you, Mr. O'Neil. When you +decide to sign your papers, we'll get you a job in some other part of +this can!"</p> + +<p>Gene found his way back to the cabin he had just left. The little guy +with the hairy neck was there, leering at the girl.</p> + +<p>"Put you in the pile gang didn't he?"</p> + +<p>Gene nodded, sat down wearily. "I want to sleep," he said.</p> + +<p>"Nuts," said the little man. "I'm here to take you to the Chief +Engineer. You go on duty in half an hour. Come on!"</p> + +<p>Gene got up. He was too sick to argue. Ann looked at him +sympathetically, noting his split lips. He managed a grin at her, "If I +never see you again, Ann, it's been nice knowing you, very nice."</p> + +<p>"I'll see you, Gene. They'll find us tougher than they bargained for."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The engine room looked like some of the atomic power stations he'd seen. +Only smaller. There was no heavy concrete shielding, no lead walls. +There was shielding around the central pile, and Gene knew that inside +it was the hell of atomic chain reaction under the control of the big +levers that moved the cadmium bars. There was a steam turbine at one +end, and a huge boiler at the other. Gene didn't even try to guess how +the pile activated the jets that drove the space ship. Somehow it +"burned" the water.</p> + +<p>This pile had been illegal from the first. Obviously some official had +been bribed to permit the first use of it on a spaceship. Certainly no +one who knew anything about the subject would have allowed human beings +to work around a thing like this.</p> + +<p>Gene's skin crawled and prickled with the energies that saturated the +room. Little sparks leaped here and there, off his fingertips, off his +nose.</p> + +<p>The Chief Engineer was on a metal platform above the machinery level. +The face had hair all over it, even on the eyelids. The eyes, popping +weirdly, were double. They looked as if second eyes had started growing +inside the original ones. They weren't reasonable; they weren't even +sane. The look of them made Gene sick.</p> + +<p>The Engineer shook his head back and forth to focus the awful, mutilated +eyes. His voice was infinitely weary, strangely muffled. "Another +sacrifice to Moloch, an's the pity! So they put you down here, as if +there was anything to be done? Well, it'll be nice to work with someone +who still has his buttons—as long as they last. Sit down."</p> + +<p>Gene sat down and the metal chair gave him a shock that made him jump. +"I don't know anything about this kind of work."</p> + +<p>The man shrugged, "Who does? The pile runs itself. Ain't enough of it +moves to need much greasing. You ought to be able to find the grease +cups—they're painted red. Fill them, wipe off the dust, and wait. Then +do it over again."</p> + +<p>"What's the score on this bucket?"</p> + +<p>"We're all signed on with a billy to the knob. And <i>kept</i> aboard by a +guard system that's pretty near perfect. After awhile the emanations get +to our brains and we don't care anymore. Then we're trusted employees. +Only reason I don't blow her loose, it wouldn't do any good."</p> + +<p>He got up, a fragile old body clad in dirty overalls. He beckoned Gene +to follow him. He led the way to a periscope arrangement over the +shielded pile. Gene peered in. It was like a look into boiling Hell. As +Gene stared, the old man talked in his ear.</p> + +<p>"Supposed to be perfectly shielded, and maybe they are. But <i>something</i> +gets out. I think it happens in the jet assembly. A tiny trickle of high +pressure steam crosses the atomic beam just above a pinhole that leads +into the jet tube. It's exploded by the beam, exploded into God knows +what, and the result is your jet. It's a wonderful drive, with plenty of +power for the purpose. But I think it forms a strong field of static +over the whole shell of the ship, a kind of sphere of reflection that +throws the emanations back into the ship from every point. Just my +theory, but it explains why you get these physical changes, because that +process of reflection gives a different ray than was observed in the +ordinary shielded jet."</p> + +<p>Gene nodded, asked: "Can I look at the jet assembly?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't no way to look at it! It's sealed up to hold in the expanding +gases from that exploded steam. Looking in this periscope is what +changed my eyes. Only other place the unshielded emanations could escape +is from the jet chamber. Only way they can get back into the ship is by +reflection from some ionized layer around the ship. If I could talk to +some of those big-brained birds that developed this drive, I'd sure have +things to say."</p> + +<p>Gene was convinced the old man knew what he was talking about. "Why +don't you try to put your information where it'll do some good? How +about the Captain?"</p> + +<p>"He's coocoo." The old man slapped the cover back on the periscope, +tottered back to his perch on the platform. "He sure has changed the +last two years. Won't listen to reason."</p> + +<p>Gene squatted on the steps, just beneath the old engineer's chair. The +old man seemed glad to have someone to talk to.</p> + +<p>"It's got us trapped. And it's so well covered up from the people. Old +spacers are changed physically, changed mentally. They know they can't +go back to normal life, because it's gone too far. They'd be freaks. No +woman would want a monstrosity around. Besides, it don't stop, even +after you leave the ships. God knows what we'll look like in the end."</p> + +<p>Gene shivered. "But you're all grown men! A fight with no chance of +winning is better than this! Why do you take it?"</p> + +<p>"Because the mind changes along with the body. It goes dead in some +ways, gets more active in others. The personality shifts inside, until +you're not sure of yourself, and can't make decisions any more. That's +why nobody does anything. Something about those rays destroys the will. +Nobody leaves the ships."</p> + +<p>"I will!" Gene said confidently. "When the time comes, I'll go. All Hell +can't stop me."</p> + +<p>The old man yawned. "Hope you do, son. Hope you do. I'm going to take me +a nap." He propped his feet up on the platform rail and in seconds was +snoring.</p> + +<p>Gene clenched his fists, growing despair in his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Tain't no worse than dying in a war," muttered the old man in his +sleep.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The days went by and Gene learned. He understood why these men didn't +actively resent the deal they were getting. No wonder the secrecy was so +effective! The radiations deadened the mind, gave one the feeling of +numbness, so that nothing mattered but the next meal, the next movie in +the recreation lounge, the next drink of water. Values changed and +shifted, and none of them seemed important.</p> + +<p>The chains that began to bind him were far stronger than steel. The +chains were mental deterioration, degeneration, mutation within the very +cells of the mind. He knew that now he must tend this monster forever, +grease and wipe the ugly metal of it, and sit and talk idly to +MacNamara, its keeper. He realized it, and didn't know how to care!</p> + +<p>The anger and hate came later. The real, abiding anger, and the living +hate. At first the numbness, the sudden incomprehensible enormity of +what had happened to him, then the anger. Hate churned and ground away +inside him, getting stronger by the hour. It all revolved around the +Captain who tramped eternally around the corridors bellowing orders, +punching with his huge fists. He knew there was more to it; the lying +owners of the Company, the bribe-taking officials, the health officers +who failed to examine the ships and the men and the ships' papers. But +somehow it all boiled down to the Captain.</p> + +<p>Sometimes he was sure he must be crazy already. Sometimes he would wake +up screaming from a nightmare only to find reality more horrible.</p> + +<p>Then he would go to Ann.</p> + +<p>Ann was not the only woman aboard ship. There were three others, and to +the crew of twenty imprisoned, enslaved men they represented all beauty, +all womanhood. They lived with the men—as the men—and nobody cared. +Here, so close to the raging elementals of the pile, life itself was +elemental.</p> + +<p>As one of them expressed it to Gene: "Why worry? We're all sterile from +the radioactivity anyway. Or didn't you know?" She had been on the ship +for years, and was covered with a fine fur, like a cat's. Her eyes were +wide, placid, empty; an animal's unthinking eyes. Gene prayed Ann would +never turn monster before his eyes; hoped desperately they could get +away in time.</p> + +<p>"We've got to fight, Ann," he said to her one day. "We must find a way +to get off at the end of the trip, or it will be too late for us to live +normal lives. It's then or never. Besides that, we've got to warn people +of what's going on. They think space travel is safe. In time this could +effect the whole race. The world must be told, so something can be +done."</p> + +<p>Ann's young face showed signs of the strain. The fear of turning into +some hideous thing was preying on her mind. She spoke rapidly, her voice +breaking a little. "I've been talking to several of the crew, the +old-timers, trying to get an understanding of why nothing is done. It's +this way: when the ships land, guards come aboard. They're posted at the +cargo locks and the passenger entrances. The only door aboard the ship +that leads to the passenger compartment is in the Captain's cabin, and +it's locked from both sides. Even our Captain never meets the +passengers. There's only one chance, a mutiny. Then we could open the +door, show the passengers."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't do any good. When we landed, they'd find a way to shut us +all up before we got to anybody. They've had a lot of practice keeping +this quiet. They know the answers."</p> + +<p>She stamped a foot angrily. "It was you who said we had to fight! Now +you say it's hopeless!"</p> + +<p>Gene leaned against the wall and passed a hand across his eyes. He +looked at Ann's flushed beauty and managed a grin. "Guess I'm getting as +bad as the rest of them, baby. We'll fight. Sure we'll fight."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It started with Schwenky. Schwenky was a gigantic Swede. He was the boss +freight handler. It was his job to sort the cargo for the next port of +call. He would get it into the cargo lock, then seal the doors so nobody +would try to smuggle themselves out with the freight. Schwenky was +intensely loyal and stupid enough not to understand the real reason +behind their imprisonment—which was why he held his job. No one got by +Schwenky.</p> + +<p>But this time, in Marsport, something was missing. They'd driven the +trucks up to the cargo port, unloaded everything, and then compared +invoices with the material. They swore some claimed machinery parts were +due them. Schwenky swore he'd placed them in the cargo lock, and that +the truckers were trying to hold up the Company.</p> + +<p>The Captain allowed the truckers claim and after the ship had blasted +off into space, called Schwenky in to bawl him out. They must have +gotten really steamed up, because Gene and Frank Maher heard the racket +clear down on the next deck where they were cleaning freight out of a +sealed compartment for the next stop.</p> + +<p>Gene and Frank raced up the ladders to the top deck, and Gene found the +break he had prayed for. Schwenky holding the Captain against the wall; +beating the monstrosity that had once been a man with terrible fists. +Gene felt a sudden thrill. In a situation like this you used any weapon +you could find. Schwenky was a deadly weapon.</p> + +<p>Gene laid a hand on Schwenky's massive shoulder. "Hold it man! You'll +kill him!"</p> + +<p>Schwenky turned a face, red and popeyed, to Gene. "The Captain make a +mistake. He try to knock Schwenky down. No man do that to Schwenky."</p> + +<p>"When he comes to, he'll lock you in the brig, put you on bread and +water...."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Schwenky realized the enormity of his offense. It was obvious +from his face that he considered himself already dead. "Nah, my friend +Gene! Now they kill Schwenky. Bad! But what I do?"</p> + +<p>Gene eyed him carefully. "Put the Captain in the brig, of course. What +else? Then he <i>can't</i> kill you."</p> + +<p>"Lock him up, eh? Good idea! Then we think, you and I, what we do next. +Maybe something come to us, eh?"</p> + +<p>Gene bent over the Captain's body, found the pistol in his hip pocket, +put it in his own. He took the ring of keys from the belt.</p> + +<p>"Bring him along, Schwenky. If we meet anyone, I'll use this." Gene +patted the gun. "I won't let them hurt my friend, Schwenky."</p> + +<p>"Damn! let them come! I fix them! Don't have to shoot them. I got +fists!"</p> + +<p>"I'd rather be shot, myself," said Gene, watching the ease with which +the giant freight handler lifted the huge body of the Captain, tossing +it over his shoulder like a sack of straw.</p> + +<p>"I'll go ahead," said Frank Maher. "If I run into Perkins, the First, +I'll whistle once. If I run into Symonds, the Second, I'll whistle +twice. I don't think there's another soul aboard we need worry about. +All we got to do is slap the Cap in the brig, round up Perkins and +Symonds, and the ship is ours. What worries me, Gene, then what do we +do?"</p> + +<p>"It's Schwenky's mutiny," grinned Gene. "Ask him."</p> + +<p>"Nah!" said Schwenky hastily. "I don' know. Maybe we just sail on till +we find good place, leave ship, go look for job."</p> + +<p>Maher said, "Me with my lumpy face? And the Chief with hair on his +cheekbones and double eyeballs? And Heinie with fingernails growing +where his collar button should be? I wonder what we <i>can</i> do, if we get +free?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They got down the first stairwell, but passing along the rather lengthy +companionway to the next stairhead, they heard Maher whistle twice. +Schwenky put the Captain down, conked him with one massive fist to make +sure he stayed out, then stood there, waiting. The Second came up out of +the stairwell, turned and started toward them. Gene put his hand on the +gun butt, waiting until he had to pull it. Schwenky said: "Come here, +Mr. Perkins, sir. Look see what has happened!"</p> + +<p>The Englishman peered at the shapeless, hairy mass of the unconscious +Captain. His face went white. Gene knew he was wondering if he could +keep the crew from mutiny without the Captain present to cow them. +Perkins straightened, his face a pallid mask in the dimness. "What +happened, Schwenky?"</p> + +<p>"This, Mr. Perkins, sir—" said Schwenky. He slapped an open palm +against the side of Perkins' head. Perkins sprawled full length on the +steel deck, but he wasn't out, which surprised Gene. He lay there, +staring up at the gigantic Swede, his face half red from the terrible +blow, the other half white with the fear in him. His hand was tugging at +his side and Gene realized he was after his gun. Gene pulled out his own +weapon even as he leaped upon the slim body of the man on the floor. His +feet missed the moving arm, the hand came out with a snub-nosed +automatic in it. Gene grabbed it, bore down. But the gun went off, the +bullet ricocheting off the wall-plates with a scream. Gene slugged the +man across the head with the barrel of the Captain's gun. Perkins went +limp. Maher came up now and grabbed Perkins' gun.</p> + +<p>"Lead on," said Gene. He picked Perkins up and put him over his +shoulder. Schwenky retrieved the slumbering Captain and they proceeded +on their way to the cell on the bottom deck.</p> + +<p>But the shot had been heard, and from above came the sound of running +feet. Gene began to trot, almost fell down the last flight of stairs, +went along the companionway at a run. At the cell door he dropped +Perkins, tried four or five keys frantically. One fit. He pulled open +the door and Schwenky drove in, kicking the body of Perkins over the +sill. The Captain dropped heavily to the deck and Schwenky was out +again. Gene was locking the door when he heard the shout from Symonds, +running toward them.</p> + +<p>"What's going on there, men?"</p> + +<p>Schwenky started to amble toward the dark, wiry Second, his big face +smiling like that of a simpleton. "We haf little trouble, Mr. Symonds, +sir. Maybe we should call you, but we did not haf time. Everything is +all right now. You come see, we explain everything...."</p> + +<p>He made a grab for the little Second Mate's neck with one big paw. But +the Second was wary, ducked quickly, was off. Gene and Maher sprang +after him. Gene shouted: "Stop or I'll fire, Symonds! You're all alone +now!"</p> + +<p>Gene let one shot angle off the wall, close beside the fleeing form, but +the man didn't stop. Instead he headed for the bridge. Gene realized he +could lock himself in, keep them from the ship controls. He could hold +out there the rest of the voyage.</p> + +<p>"We've got to stop him!"</p> + +<p>Maher close behind, they ran up the stairs on the Second's heels. Up the +companionway they pounded, the Second increasing his lead. A door opened +ahead of him and Ann O'Donnell appeared.</p> + +<p>Symonds cursed and tried to pass her. Ann deftly slid out one pretty leg +and the officer turned a somersault, and brought up against the wall at +the foot of the stairs to the upper deck and the bridge.</p> + +<p>But the Second was too frightened to let a little thing like a fall stop +him. He went scrambling up the stairs on all fours. Gene was still too +far away, and Ann moved like a streak of light. She sailed through the +air in a long dancer's leap and with two bounds was up the stair, ahead +of the scrambling, fear-stricken officer.</p> + +<p>"Out of my way, bitch," and Symonds hurled himself toward Ann.</p> + +<p>Gene leaped forward, but he needn't have bothered. Ann lifted one of her +educated feet, caught the Second under the chin and he came down the +stair like a sack of meal. Gene caught his full weight.</p> + +<p>The two men fell in a scramble of flailing arms and legs, knocking the +props out from under Maher, who had started out after them. Just how the +mixup might have turned out they were not to know, for just then the +vast weight of Schwenky descended upon the three and Maher let out a +scream of anguish. But Gene and Symonds were on the bottom, too crushed +by this tactic to make a sound.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was minutes later when Gene came back to consciousness, finding his +head resting in Ann O'Donnell's lap while her swift hands prodded him +here and there, looking for broken bones.</p> + +<p>"I'm dead for sure," groaned Gene.</p> + +<p>"You've just had the wind knocked out of you. You'll be all right," and +Ann let his head fall from her grasp with a thump. She stood up, a +little abashed at the going over she'd been giving him.</p> + +<p>"Where're my mutineers?" Gene asked.</p> + +<p>"Went to lock Symonds with the others. What is going to happen now? I'm +not sure I like this development, now it's happened."</p> + +<p>"You should have thought of that before you tripped Symonds," said Gene. +"But I'll admit there are problems. For instance, with all the officers +in the brig, how can we be sure we can keep this atomic junk heap headed +in the right direction?"</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> the correct direction?" asked Ann, squatting down beside him.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. We'll have to figure it out, then see if we can point her +that way."</p> + +<p>"Let's get up to the bridge," she said.</p> + +<p>Schwenky and Maher found them brooding over the series of levers and +buttons which comprised the control board. Schwenky noted their baffled +frowns. His big face took on a worried look. "You fix!" he said. "You +good fellow, Gene. We run ship, let officers go to hell. Yah!"</p> + +<p>Maher scratched one patch of greying hair over his left eye. The rest of +his skull was covered with brown bumps like fungus growths. "It's just +possible we'll wreck the ship, let the air out of her or something, if +we experiment," he warned.</p> + +<p>"Go get MacNamara," said Gene. "He's been on the ship longer than any of +us. Maybe he'll know."</p> + +<p>He didn't. "All I know is grease cups," he reminded Gene.</p> + +<p>Hours later eighteen men and four women gathered together in the +recreation room to discuss a plan of action. Everyone had his or her +ideas, but after an hour of wrangling, they got nowhere. Finally Gene +held up a hand and shouted for silence.</p> + +<p>"Let's decide who's boss, then follow orders," he said. "If I may be so +bold, how about me?"</p> + +<p>"Yah!" said Schwenky. "I do what you say. I like you!"</p> + +<p>Old MacNamara grumbled to himself. "Do nothing, I say. We ought to stick +to our duty, and save the lives of those who would have to take our +places...." The unguarded pile had given MacNamara a martyr complex.</p> + +<p>Maher looked over at him. "Your idea of sacrifice is all very fine, +MacNamara. But we're not all anxious to die. You know what would happen +now if we gave up!"</p> + +<p>Gene spoke up again. "Let me summarize the position we're in—maybe then +we can make a better decision."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Ann. The others nodded and fell silent, waiting.</p> + +<p>Gene cleared his throat. "The way it looks to me, we've had a lucky +accident in getting control of the ship. So far, we've not contacted the +passengers. They know nothing of the change that's taken place. As it +is, I see no point in contacting them. It might force us to face another +mutiny, that of the passengers, who would regard us as what we are, +mutineers, and when they found we weren't going to our destination, +they'd certainly not all take it lying down. Point number one, then, is +to ignore the passengers, keep the knowledge of a mutiny from them.</p> + +<p>"Now, our real purpose in this mutiny is to expose this whole vicious +secret slavery, tell Earth of the danger of the unshielded piles in +space ships, destroy the Company's monopoly, and bring about new +research which I'm sure would eventually overcome the difficulty. Just +how are we going to do that? The answer is simple—we must get back to +Earth, and we must get back in a way the Company will not be able to +intercept us. As I understand it, this won't be easy. The Company is in +complete control of space travel, and they have the ships to knock us +out of space before we can get near Earth. Somehow we've got to win +through. Can we do it by a direct return to Earth? I doubt it. However, +say we do it. Then where do we go? The government might look upon us as +mutineers and thus give the Company a chance to quash the whole affair.</p> + +<p>"So we've got to go directly to the people, who, once they <i>see</i> us, and +realize what space travel with these piles means, will demand an +explanation with such public feeling even the government can't avoid a +showdown. It's the secrecy we must break. Thus, we must land on Earth +with the biggest possible splurge of publicity. We've got to do it so no +Company ship can prevent it.</p> + +<p>"Then there's this to consider. Most of you would find it a difficult +thing to take up a life on Earth. I know that many of you want to take +off for some remote world, and try to live out your lives by yourselves. +I say that would be a cowardly thing to do. So, before we decide +anything else, I say let's decide here and now that the <i>only</i> thing we +will do is go back to Earth."</p> + +<p>One of the most grotesquely deformed of the crew spoke up. "No woman +would ever look at me," he said defiantly. "Children would stare at me +and scream in terror. I've suffered enough. Why should I suffer more?"</p> + +<p>The woman in the fine fur got to her feet and walked over to him. She +sat down beside him and took his hand in hers. "I will look at you," she +said. "When we get back to Earth, I will marry you and live with you—if +you are brave enough to take me there."</p> + +<p>For an instant the crewman stared at her out of his horribly bulging +popeyes, then he swallowed hard and clutched her hand fiercely.</p> + +<p>"The Devil himself will not keep me from it!" he said hoarsely.</p> + +<p>Gene, staring at the man, felt a warm hand slip into his, and he turned +to find Ann.</p> + +<p>"I think that answers for all of us," she said.</p> + +<p>The room rang with the shouts of approval.</p> + +<p>Once more Gene began talking. "All right, then, I've a plan. First, +we'll try to find out how to maneuver this craft. I believe we can +persuade one of the Mates to show us the controls without much trouble."</p> + +<p>"Yah!" interrupted Schwenky. "They show!"</p> + +<p>"We'll set a course for Earth by the sun. We'll come in with the sun at +our back, which means we'll have to make a wide circle off the traveled +spacelanes, through unknown space, and come in from the direction of the +inner planets, which are uninhabited and unvisited. Also, with the sun +behind us, we won't be observed from Earth. Then, with all our speed, +we'll come in, land at high noon in Chicago, right in front of the +offices of the <i>Sentinel</i>, the newspaper for which I work."</p> + +<p>There was a chorus of exclamations. Ann looked at him in amazement. +"You, a newspaperman!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I was sent out by my boss to find out what was behind the secrecy +of the space ships. I got shanghaied as a crew member. Now, with your +help, maybe I can complete my assignment. Once we get to my boss, the +show will be over. He'll blast the story wide open."</p> + +<p>"Wonderful!" shouted Maher. "Come, Schwenky! We will get Perkins and +make him show us how to run the ship!"</p> + +<p>Schwenky chortled in glee. "Yah! We get. By golly, I know that Gene +O'Neill is good man! Maybe I get my picture in newspaper?"</p> + +<p>Maher stared at him. "God forbid!" he said. "Unless it's in the comic +section!"</p> + +<p>"Yah!" agreed Schwenky. "In comic section!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two weeks later, as the ship crossed Earth's orbit and headed in behind +the planet in the plane of the sun, the meteorite hit. It tore a great +hole in the passenger side of the ship, and knocked out the port jets.</p> + +<p>The ship veered crazily under the influence of its lopsided blast, and +the crew was hurled against the wall and pinned there as the continuing +involuntary maneuver built up acceleration.</p> + +<p>Gene, who had been in his bunk, was pressed against the wall by a giant +hand. Savagely he fought to adjust himself into a more bearable +position, then tried to figure out what had happened. Obviously the ship +was veering about, out of control.</p> + +<p>"Meteorite!" he gasped. "We've been hit."</p> + +<p>He pulled himself from the bunk, slid along the wall to the door. It was +all he could do to open it, but once in the companionway outside, he +found that he could crawl along one wall, off the floor, in an inching +progress. He made it finally to the control room, and forced his body +around the door jamb and inside. Against the far wall Maher was +plastered, dazed, but conscious. At his feet lay Heinie, his head +crushed, obviously dead.</p> + +<p>"Cut off the rest of the jets!" gasped Maher. "I can't make it!"</p> + +<p>Gene crawled slowly around the room, following the wall, until he could +reach the controls, then he pulled the lever that controlled the jet +blast. The ship's unnatural veering stopped instantly and both Maher and +Gene dropped heavily to the floor.</p> + +<p>Gene was up first and helped Maher to his feet. Together they turned to +the indicators.</p> + +<p>"Passenger deck's out!" said Maher. "Except for a few compartments. The +automatic seals have operated. But there must be somebody left alive in +them."</p> + +<p>"We've got to get them," said Gene. "But first, we've got to check up on +what damage has been done here, and how many casualties we have."</p> + +<p>"Heinie's dead," said Maher. "He hit the wall with his head."</p> + +<p>Gene shuddered, and deep in his stomach nausea churned. He thought of +Ann and his blood froze in his veins. "You take below decks, I'll go +up," he said. Ann's cabin was on the deck above.</p> + +<p>Maher nodded and staggered away. Gene scrambled up the stairwell as fast +as he could, and ran down the corridor. At Ann's door he stopped, turned +the knob. The door opened. The room was empty.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he heard running footsteps, and Ann threw herself into his +arms, sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Where were you?" he asked, almost savagely.</p> + +<p>"I went to your cabin, to see if you were hurt. What happened to the +ship?"</p> + +<p>"Meteorite hit us. Knocked out the passenger deck. Most of the +passengers will be dead, but we've got to go in and rescue the +survivors."</p> + +<p>Doors were opening here and there and the crew members able to make it +were congregating around them. They went to the recreation room. There +Gene counted noses. Five crewmen were missing. Of those present, six men +were injured, and one woman exhibited a black eye, accentuating her +other abnormalities. The three prisoners were reported unharmed.</p> + +<p>"What about the missing men?" Gene asked.</p> + +<p>"Three dead," Maher replied, "two badly hurt. We'll need somebody to +look after them."</p> + +<p>"I'll go," volunteered Ann. The woman in fur stepped forward also, and +they left the room behind Maher and Schwenky.</p> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>Gene faced the rest. "We've got a real problem now. With a reduced crew, +we'll have to finish a trip that would have been tough with an uninjured +ship. But first, we've got to search the passenger deck and remove the +survivors. All of you who are able, put on pressure suits and come with +me."</p> + + + +<p>He led the way to the locker containing the pressure suits. Seven men, +those who were not too deformed to don the suits, made up the party. +Gene led the way to the Captain's stateroom, ordered the door sealed +behind them, then opened the only door to the damaged deck. The air +rushed out as the door swung open, and suddenly complete silence +descended upon them. There would be no more communication between them +except for signs.</p> + + + +<p>In an hour they had determined the truth. All passengers but one, a +woman, had been killed instantly. The woman was unconscious, but +suffering only from bruises. It had been necessary, after discovering +her unpierced cabin, to return to the deck above and cut through with a +torch.</p> + + + +<p>When she regained consciousness and saw her rescuers, she screamed.</p> + +<p>"That'll give us some idea of how the people back on Earth will receive +us," said Gene. "If we get there, that is."</p> + +<p>Later, in the control room, Maher and MacNamara gave their report.</p> + +<p>"We can make it," said MacNamara, "but we'll come in limping like a +wounded moose. If any of the Company ships sight us, we'll be a sitting +duck. But maybe it will be better that way. This is like war, and some +of us must die...." His voice trailed off in a mumble.</p> + +<p>"Some of us <i>are</i> dying," said Maher. "But he's right, Gene; we can make +it, with luck. We'll not be able to come in fast, nor land in the city, +but we'll make it to Earth."</p> + +<p>"That's enough," decided Gene. "If we can land near Chicago, I think I +can manage the rest."</p> + +<p>They turned to the controls, and MacNamara went back to his pile room. +Once more the ship limped on, this time directly toward the ball of +Earth, looming a scant twenty million miles away.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It took eight days to come within a million miles of their goal. Then +tragedy struck again. The cabin on the passenger deck from which they +had removed the sole survivor blew its door, and the air on the deck +above rushed out through the hole they had burned into the cabin. It had +been forgotten, and it meant the lives of three more crew members.</p> + +<p>Then, as they prepared to bring the ship into the atmosphere, Maher, +peering through the telescope, let out a shout. "Company ship, coming up +fast! They're after us!"</p> + +<p>Gene leaped to the telescope and peered through. Far to the left, a +glowing silver streak in the sky, was the familiar shape of a space +ship, growing larger by the minute. Studying it, Gene saw that it was an +armed cruiser.</p> + +<p>"They've got wise," said Maher. "I thought they would, when we didn't +check in at Io. Probably radioed back to be on the lookout for us."</p> + +<p>"Call MacNamara," said Gene. "We've got to see if he can set us down +faster. Maybe there's some way to step up that pile."</p> + +<p>Maher rushed off, and Ann came in. "What's up?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Cruiser after us," said Gene, his face grim. "Looks like we won't get +to Chicago unless MacNamara has something up that old sleeve of his."</p> + +<p>Ann went white, and together they waited for the old Engineer.</p> + +<p>When he came in, Gene gestured to the telescope. "Take a look."</p> + +<p>MacNamara squinted through the eyepiece with his double popeyes. "Don't +see a thing," he grumbled.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a Company Cruiser, gunned to the limit. She's going to be +near enough to shoot us down in about three hours."</p> + +<p>"Three hours, you say?" MacNamara scratched his head. "How near we to +Earth?"</p> + +<p>"Half a million miles."</p> + +<p>"You could make it in the lifeboat."</p> + +<p>Gene snorted. "That Cruiser'd shoot down the lifeboat as easy as it will +the ship—a lot easier."</p> + +<p>"If they can catch you," said MacNamara. "Some of us must die, that the +rest may live."</p> + +<p>"Don't start that again, Mac," said Maher impatiently. "What we want to +know is whether you can soup up that pile so we can beat that Cruiser +down to Earth?"</p> + +<p>"Not a thing I can do," said the Chief Engineer. "We've only one set of +tubes. Full power would shoot us all over the sky. But I <i>can</i> do +something as good."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>The old Engineer considered them through his double eyes. "The rest of +you'll take the lifeboat and make for Earth. I'll remain here on the +ship and shield your flight. I'm sure I can hide the little boat for +awhile, and then, even with one jet, I think I can delay the cruiser +until you get away. Someone's got to make a sacrifice. I'm old, and I +didn't want any of this to begin with."</p> + +<p>Maher gasped. "Mac, you old fool. D'ya mind if I apologize for what I +just said? But you're right, that's a possible answer. Only I'll be the +one to stay."</p> + +<p>"Do you know how to adjust the pile and the jets to make a weapon out of +them?" asked MacNamara.</p> + +<p>"No ..." began Maher.</p> + +<p>MacNamara grinned, "Nor am I going to tell you! So, you see, you can't +be the one to stay."</p> + +<p>Maher gripped the old man's hand and pumped it. "You win," he said. "You +old ... crackpot!" There was real affection in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Then be off with you," said the Chief Engineer. "You've not a minute to +lose. Every man jack of you into the boat, including the Captain and the +Mates. I'll not have <i>my</i> ship cluttered up with extra hands that might +cramp my style...." And turning, the old man made his way back to the +pile room, mumbling to himself.</p> + +<p>Eyes wet, Gene gave the orders to abandon ship, and within thirty +minutes every living soul was aboard the lifeboat.</p> + +<p>MacNamara had finished his work with the pile and was back in the +control room, waiting for the lifeboat to cast off. As it did so, he +waved, then turned to the controls.</p> + +<p>As the lifeboat darted away on its chemical jet engines, they could see +the old man maneuvering the big ship so as to keep it ever between them +and the Cruiser. An hour later when they were within a hundred thousand +miles of Earth, MacNamara sent up a flare denoting surrender.</p> + +<p>Tensely they watched the distant speck of light that was the ship with +MacNamara on it. Then, around its side came the Company Cruiser, +steering in toward it to make the capture. It was scarcely a thousand +miles from the disabled ship. Gradually it drew closer, then edged in. +Now it was only a few miles away, and at this distance, both specks +seemed to merge.</p> + +<p>"They got him!" Maher said.</p> + +<p>"Yah!" Schwenky boomed, disappointment in his voice. "Me, I should have +been the one to stay. I would slap them."</p> + +<p>Suddenly, out in space, a bright flower grew. A flower of incandescent +light that blossomed with terrifying rapidity, until it seemed to engulf +all space in the area of the two ships. The familiar sphere of +brilliance that marked an exploding atom bomb hung there in the heavens +an instant, then it was gone. In its place was only a vast cloud of +smoke, the dust and scattered atoms that were all that remained of two +gigantic space ships.</p> + +<p>"He detonated the pile!" said Gene, "He turned himself into an atom +bomb!"</p> + +<p>"Yah!" said Schwenky, his voice strangely muted. "Yah!" Awkwardly he +turned and patted Ann's head as she began to sob.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Is it not handsome?" asked Schwenky proudly, holding the front page of +the newspaper up for all to see. "I have my picture in the paper! Is it +not nice?"</p> + +<p>Laughing, Ann kissed the big Swede right on the lips, and hugged him, +paper and all. "It's beautiful, you big lug!" she said. "The handsomest +picture I've ever seen in any paper."</p> + +<p>"Nah!" denied Schwenky. "It is not the handsomest. All of us have our +pictures in the paper. We are all very good looking! Not only Schwenky. +Is it not so, Gene, my friend?"</p> + +<p>Gene grinned at him, and at the others. Maher pounded him on the back, +and over the uproar came the voice of the editor of the <i>Sentinel</i>. +"Telephone for Mr. Schwenky!"</p> + +<p>Schwenky looked dazed, cocked his big ears at the editor. "For +Schwenky?" he asked stupidly. "Telephone? Who would call Schwenky on the +telephone?"</p> + +<p>"How do I know?" said the editor. "It's some lady...." He thrust the +phone into the big Swede's hand.</p> + +<p>"Lady?" said Schwenky wonderingly. "Hello ... lady ..." he spoke into +the receiver, his booming voice making it rattle.</p> + +<p>"The other ..." began Gene, then desisted. "Never mind, she'll hear +you...."</p> + +<p>"What? You want to marry me? Lady...." Schwenky's eyes bulged even more, +and he roared into the transmitter. "Lady! You wait! I come!" He thrust +the phone into the editor's hands and made for the door like a lumbering +bull.</p> + +<p>"Where you going?" yelled Gene.</p> + +<p>Schwenky halted, turned with a big grin, "I go to marry lady. She asked +me to become my wife!"</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" asked Gene. "Where are you going to meet her?"</p> + +<p>Schwenky looked stupidly at the now silent phone. "By golly! I forget to +ask her!" There was tragedy in his voice. "Now I never find her!"</p> + +<p>The editor laughed. "Never mind—you'll get a hundred more proposals +before the day's over. You can take your pick!"</p> + +<p>Schwenky's eyes opened wide. Then he grinned again. "Yah!" he roared. "I +take my pick! She will be so beautiful! Yah!"</p> + +<p>The chatter of the teletype interrupted him, and the editor turned to +watch the tape as it came from the machine. Then he began to read:</p> + +<p>"Washington. April 23. President Walworth has grounded all spaceships +and ordered all those enroute to proceed to the nearest port. A +Congressional committee has been picked, including top members of the +cabinet, to investigate the ships, the atomic drives, and the system of +secret slavery among crews. In a statement to the Press, President +Walworth said that space travel will not be resumed until proper shields +are developed. But he added that he had been informed by leading +physicists that the problem can be solved within a year if sufficient +funds were available. Said the President: 'I will see that the funds are +made available!'"</p> + +<p>The editor dropped the tape and turned to Gene. "I have one more bit of +information, this one direct from the President by phone. He has asked +me to inform you that he has appointed you new head of FAST."</p> + +<p>"FAST?" asked Gene. "What's that?"</p> + +<p>"Federal Agency for Space Travel," grinned the editor. "And +congratulations. I hate to lose a good reporter, but maybe you'll be +back after you finish in Washington—at a substantial increase in +salary."</p> + +<p>Gene grinned back. "Maybe I will," he said. "And I'll need the money." +He put an arm around Ann and drew her to him. "Two can't live as cheap +as one, you know."</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hell Ship, by Raymond Alfred Palmer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HELL SHIP *** + +***** This file should be named 32615-h.htm or 32615-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/1/32615/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan 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: The Hell Ship + +Author: Raymond Alfred Palmer + +Release Date: May 31, 2010 [EBook #32615] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HELL SHIP *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + The HELL SHIP + + By Ray Palmer + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science +Fiction March 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Sidenote: _The passengers rocketed through space in luxury. But they +never went below decks because rumor had it that Satan himself manned +the controls of The Hell Ship._] + + +The giant space liner swung down in a long arc, hung for an instant on +columns of flame, then settled slowly into the blast-pit. But no hatch +opened; no air lock swung out; no person left the ship. It lay there, +its voyage over, waiting. + +The thing at the controls had great corded man-like arms. Its skin was +black with stiff fur. It had fingers ending in heavy talons and eyes +bulging from the base of a massive skull. Its body was ponderous, heavy, +inhuman. + +[Illustration] + +After twenty minutes, a single air lock swung clear and a dozen armed +men in Company uniforms went aboard. Still later, a truck lumbered up, +the cargo hatch creaked aside, and a crane reached its long neck in for +the cargo. + +Still no creature from the ship was seen to emerge. The truck driver, +idly smoking near the hull, knew this was the _Prescott_, in from the +Jupiter run--that this was the White Sands Space Port. But he didn't +know what was inside the _Prescott_ and he'd been told it wasn't healthy +to ask. + +Gene O'Neil stood outside the electrified wire that surrounded the White +Sands port and thought of many things. He thought of the eternal secrecy +surrounding space travel; of the reinforced hush-hush enshrouding +Company ships. No one ever visited the engine rooms. No one in all the +nation had ever talked with a spaceman. Gene thought of the glimpse he'd +gotten of the thing in the pilot's window. Then his thoughts drifted +back to the newsrooms of Galactic Press Service; to Carter in his plush +office. + +"Want to be a hero, son?" + +"Who, me? Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next day." + +"Don't be cute. It's an assignment. Get into White Sands." + +"Who tried last?" + +"Jim Whiting." + +"Where is Whiting now?" + +"Frankly we don't know. But--" + +"And the four guys who tried before Whiting?" + +"We don't know. But we'd like to find out." + +"Try real hard. Maybe you will." + +"Cut it out. You're a newspaperman aren't you?" + +"God help me, yes. But there's no way." + +"There's a way. There's always a way. Like Whiting and the others. Your +pals." + +Back at the port looking through the hot wire. _Sure there was a way. +Ask questions out loud. Then sit back and let them throw a noose around +you. And there was a place where you could do the sitting in complete +comfort. Where Whiting had done it--but only to vanish off the face of +the earth. Damn Carter to all hell!_ + +Gene turned and walked up the sandy road toward the place where the +gaudy neons of the Blue Moon told hard working men where they could +spend their money. The Blue Moon. It was quite a place. + +Outside, beneath the big crescent sign, Gene stopped to watch the crowds +eddying in and out. Then he went in, to watch them cluster around the +slot machines and bend in eager rows over the view slots of the peep +shows. + +He moved into the bar, dropped on one of the low stools. He ordered a +beer and let his eyes drift around. + +A man sat down beside him. He was husky, tough looking. "Ain't you the +guy who's been asking questions about the crews down at the Port?" + +Gene felt it coming. He looked the man over. His heavy face was flushed +with good living, eyes peculiarly direct of stare as if he was trying to +keep them from roving suspiciously by force of will. He was well +dressed, and his heavy hands twinkled with several rather large +diamonds. The man went on: "I can give you the information you want--for +a price, of course." He nodded toward an exit. "Too public in here, +though." + +Gene grinned without mirth as he thought, _move over Whiting--here I +come_, and followed the man toward the door. + +Outside the man waited, and Gene moved up close. + +"You see, it's this way...." + +Something exploded against Gene's skull. Even as fiery darkness closed +down he knew he'd found _the way_. But only a stupid newspaperman would +take it. Damn Carter! + +Gene went out. + +He seemed to be dreaming. Over him bent a repulsive, man-like face. But +the man had fingernails growing on his chin where his whiskers should +have been. And his eyes were funny--walled, as though he bordered on +idiocy. In the dream, Gene felt himself strapped into a hammock. Then +something pulled at him and made a terrible racket for a long time. Then +it got very quiet except for a throbbing in his head. He went back to +sleep. + + * * * * * + +She had on a starched white outfit, but it wasn't a nurse's uniform. +There wasn't much skirt, and what there was of it was only the back +part. The neckline plunged to the waist and stopped there. It was a +peculiar outfit for a nurse to be wearing. But it looked familiar. + +Her soft hands fixed something over his eyes, something cold and wet. He +felt grateful, but kept on trying to remember. Ah, he had it; the girls +wore that kind of outfit in the Blue Moon in one of the skits they did, +burlesquing a hospital. He took off the wet cloth and looked again. + +She was a dream. Even with her lips rouge-scarlet, her cheeks pink with +makeup, her eyes heavy with artifice. + +"What gives, beautiful?" He was surprised at the weakness of his voice. + +Her voice was hard, but nice, and it was bitter, as though she wanted +hard people to know she knew the score, could be just a little harder. +"You're a spaceman now! Didn't you know?" + +Gene grinned weakly. "I don't know a star from a street light. Nobody +gets on the space crews these days--it's a closed union." + +Her laugh was full of a knowledge denied him. "That's what I used to +think!" + +She began to unstrap him from the hammock. Then she pushed back his +hair, prodded at the purple knob on his head with careful fingertips. + +"How come you're on this ship?" asked Gene, wincing but letting her +fingers explore. + +"Shanghaied, same as you. I'm from the Blue Moon. I stepped out between +acts for a breath of fresh air, and wham, a sack over the head and here +I am. They thought you might have a cracked skull. One of the monsters +told me to check you. No doctor on the ship." + +Gene groaned. "Then I didn't dream it--there is a guy on this ship with +fingernails instead of a beard on his chin!" + +She nodded. "You haven't seen anything yet!" + +"Why are we here?" + +"You've been shanghaied to work the ship, I'm here for a different +purpose--these men can't get off the ship and they've got to be kept +contented. We've got ourselves pleasant jobs, with monsters for +playmates, and we can't get fired. It'll be the rottenest time of our +lives, and the _rest_ of our lives, as far as I can see." + +Gene sank down, put the compress back on his bump. "I don't get it." + +"You will. I'm not absolutely sure I'm right, but I know a little more +about it than you." + +"What's your name?" + +"They call me Queenie Brant. A name that fits this business. My real +name is Ann O'Donnell." + +"Queenie's a horse's name--I'll call you Ann. Me, I'm Gene O'Neil." + +"That makes us both Irish," she said. He lifted the compress and saw the +first really natural smile on her face. It was a sweet smile, +introspective, dewy, young. + +"You were only a dancer." He said it flatly. + +For a long instant she looked at him, "Thanks. You got inside the gate +on that one." + +"It's in your eyes. I'm glad to know you, Ann. And I'd like to know you +better." + +"You will. There'll be plenty of time; we're bound for Io." + +"Where's Io?" + +"One of Jupiter's moons, you Irish ignoramus. It has quite a colony +around the mines. Also it has a strange race of people. But Ann +O'Donnell is going to live there if she can get off this ship. I don't +want fingernails growing on _my_ chin." + +O'Neil sat up. "I get it now! It's something about the atomic drive that +changes the crew!" + +"What else?" + +Gene looked at Ann, let his eyes rove over her figure. + +"Take a good look," she said bitterly. "Maybe it won't stay like this +very long!" + +"We've _got_ to get off this ship!" said Gene hoarsely. + + * * * * * + +The door of the stateroom opened. A sharp-nosed face peered in, followed +by a misshapen body of a man in a dirty blue uniform. Hair grew thick +all around his neck and clear up to his ears. It also covered the skin +from chin to shirt opening. The hair bristled, coarse as an animal's. +His voice was thick, his words hissing as though his tongue was too +heavy to move properly. + +"Captain wants you, O'Neil." + +Gene got up, took a step. He went clear across the room, banged against +the wall. The little man laughed. + +"We're in space," Ann said. "We have a simulated gravity about a quarter +normal. Here, let me put on your metal-soled slippers. They're +magnetized to hold you to the floor." She bent and slipped the things on +his feet, while Gene held his throbbing head. + +The little man opened the door and went out. Gene followed, his feet +slipping along awkwardly. After a minute his nausea lessened. At the end +of the long steel corridor the little man knocked, then opened the door +to a low rumble of command. He didn't enter, just stood aside for Gene. +Gene walked in, stood staring. + +The eyes in the face he saw were black pools of nothingness, without +emotion, yet behind them an active mind was apparent. Gene realized this +hairy thing was the Captain--even though he didn't even wear a shirt! + +"You've shanghaied me," said Gene. "I don't like it." + +The voice was huge and cold, like wind from an ice field. "None of us +like it, chum. But the ships have got to sail. You're one of us now, +because we're on our way and by the time you get there, there'll be no +place left for you to work, unless it's in a circus as a freak." + +"I didn't ask for it," said Gene. + +"You did. You wanted to know too much about the crew--and if you found +out, you'd spread it. You see, the drives are not what they were cooked +up to be--the atomics leak, and it wasn't found out until too late. +After they learned, they hid the truth, because the cargo we bring is +worth millions. All the shielding they've used so far only seems to make +it worse. But that won't stop the ships--they'll get crews the way they +got you, and nosey people will find out more than they bargain for." + +"I won't take it sitting down!" said Gene angrily. + +The Captain ignored him. "Start saying sir. It's etiquette aboard ship +to say sir to the Captain." + +"I'll never say sir to anyone who got me into this...." + +The Captain knocked him down. + +Gene had plenty of time to block the blow. He had put up his arms, but +the big fist went right through and crashed against his chin. Gene sat +down hard, staring up at the hairy thing that had once been a man. He +suddenly realized the Captain was standing there waiting for an excuse +to kill him. + +Through split and bleeding lips, while his stomach turned over and his +head seemed on the point of bursting, Gene said: "Yes, sir!" + +The Captain turned his back, sat down again. He shoved aside a mass of +worn charts, battered instruments, cigar butts, ashtrays with statuettes +of naked girls in a half-dozen startling poses, comic books, illustrated +magazines with sexy pictures, and made a space on the top. He thrust +forward a sheet of paper. He picked up a fountain pen, flirted it so +that ink spattered the tangle of junk on his desk, then handed it to +Gene. "Sign on the dotted line." + +Gene picked up the document. It was an ordinary kind of form, an +application for employment as a spacehand, third class. The ship was not +named, but merely called a cargo boat. This was the paper the Company +needed to keep the investigators satisfied that no one was forced to +work on the ships against their will. Anger blinded him. He didn't take +the pen. He just stood looking at the Captain and wondering how to keep +himself from being beaten to death. + +After a long moment of silence the Captain laid the pen down, grinned +horribly. He gave a snort. "It's just a formality. I'm supposed to turn +these things over to the authorities, but they never bother us anymore. +Sign it later, after you've learned. You'll be _glad_ to sign, then." + +"What's my job, Captain?" + +"Captain Jorgens, and don't forget the sir!" + +"Captain Jorgens, sir." + +"I'll put you with the Chief Engineer. He'll find work for you down in +the pile room." + +The Captain laughed a nasty laugh, repeating the last phrase with +relish. "The pile room! There's a place for you, Mr. O'Neil. When you +decide to sign your papers, we'll get you a job in some other part of +this can!" + +Gene found his way back to the cabin he had just left. The little guy +with the hairy neck was there, leering at the girl. + +"Put you in the pile gang didn't he?" + +Gene nodded, sat down wearily. "I want to sleep," he said. + +"Nuts," said the little man. "I'm here to take you to the Chief +Engineer. You go on duty in half an hour. Come on!" + +Gene got up. He was too sick to argue. Ann looked at him +sympathetically, noting his split lips. He managed a grin at her, "If I +never see you again, Ann, it's been nice knowing you, very nice." + +"I'll see you, Gene. They'll find us tougher than they bargained for." + + * * * * * + +The engine room looked like some of the atomic power stations he'd seen. +Only smaller. There was no heavy concrete shielding, no lead walls. +There was shielding around the central pile, and Gene knew that inside +it was the hell of atomic chain reaction under the control of the big +levers that moved the cadmium bars. There was a steam turbine at one +end, and a huge boiler at the other. Gene didn't even try to guess how +the pile activated the jets that drove the space ship. Somehow it +"burned" the water. + +This pile had been illegal from the first. Obviously some official had +been bribed to permit the first use of it on a spaceship. Certainly no +one who knew anything about the subject would have allowed human beings +to work around a thing like this. + +Gene's skin crawled and prickled with the energies that saturated the +room. Little sparks leaped here and there, off his fingertips, off his +nose. + +The Chief Engineer was on a metal platform above the machinery level. +The face had hair all over it, even on the eyelids. The eyes, popping +weirdly, were double. They looked as if second eyes had started growing +inside the original ones. They weren't reasonable; they weren't even +sane. The look of them made Gene sick. + +The Engineer shook his head back and forth to focus the awful, mutilated +eyes. His voice was infinitely weary, strangely muffled. "Another +sacrifice to Moloch, an's the pity! So they put you down here, as if +there was anything to be done? Well, it'll be nice to work with someone +who still has his buttons--as long as they last. Sit down." + +Gene sat down and the metal chair gave him a shock that made him jump. +"I don't know anything about this kind of work." + +The man shrugged, "Who does? The pile runs itself. Ain't enough of it +moves to need much greasing. You ought to be able to find the grease +cups--they're painted red. Fill them, wipe off the dust, and wait. Then +do it over again." + +"What's the score on this bucket?" + +"We're all signed on with a billy to the knob. And _kept_ aboard by a +guard system that's pretty near perfect. After awhile the emanations get +to our brains and we don't care anymore. Then we're trusted employees. +Only reason I don't blow her loose, it wouldn't do any good." + +He got up, a fragile old body clad in dirty overalls. He beckoned Gene +to follow him. He led the way to a periscope arrangement over the +shielded pile. Gene peered in. It was like a look into boiling Hell. As +Gene stared, the old man talked in his ear. + +"Supposed to be perfectly shielded, and maybe they are. But _something_ +gets out. I think it happens in the jet assembly. A tiny trickle of high +pressure steam crosses the atomic beam just above a pinhole that leads +into the jet tube. It's exploded by the beam, exploded into God knows +what, and the result is your jet. It's a wonderful drive, with plenty of +power for the purpose. But I think it forms a strong field of static +over the whole shell of the ship, a kind of sphere of reflection that +throws the emanations back into the ship from every point. Just my +theory, but it explains why you get these physical changes, because that +process of reflection gives a different ray than was observed in the +ordinary shielded jet." + +Gene nodded, asked: "Can I look at the jet assembly?" + +"Ain't no way to look at it! It's sealed up to hold in the expanding +gases from that exploded steam. Looking in this periscope is what +changed my eyes. Only other place the unshielded emanations could escape +is from the jet chamber. Only way they can get back into the ship is by +reflection from some ionized layer around the ship. If I could talk to +some of those big-brained birds that developed this drive, I'd sure have +things to say." + +Gene was convinced the old man knew what he was talking about. "Why +don't you try to put your information where it'll do some good? How +about the Captain?" + +"He's coocoo." The old man slapped the cover back on the periscope, +tottered back to his perch on the platform. "He sure has changed the +last two years. Won't listen to reason." + +Gene squatted on the steps, just beneath the old engineer's chair. The +old man seemed glad to have someone to talk to. + +"It's got us trapped. And it's so well covered up from the people. Old +spacers are changed physically, changed mentally. They know they can't +go back to normal life, because it's gone too far. They'd be freaks. No +woman would want a monstrosity around. Besides, it don't stop, even +after you leave the ships. God knows what we'll look like in the end." + +Gene shivered. "But you're all grown men! A fight with no chance of +winning is better than this! Why do you take it?" + +"Because the mind changes along with the body. It goes dead in some +ways, gets more active in others. The personality shifts inside, until +you're not sure of yourself, and can't make decisions any more. That's +why nobody does anything. Something about those rays destroys the will. +Nobody leaves the ships." + +"I will!" Gene said confidently. "When the time comes, I'll go. All Hell +can't stop me." + +The old man yawned. "Hope you do, son. Hope you do. I'm going to take me +a nap." He propped his feet up on the platform rail and in seconds was +snoring. + +Gene clenched his fists, growing despair in his thoughts. + +"Tain't no worse than dying in a war," muttered the old man in his +sleep. + + * * * * * + +The days went by and Gene learned. He understood why these men didn't +actively resent the deal they were getting. No wonder the secrecy was so +effective! The radiations deadened the mind, gave one the feeling of +numbness, so that nothing mattered but the next meal, the next movie in +the recreation lounge, the next drink of water. Values changed and +shifted, and none of them seemed important. + +The chains that began to bind him were far stronger than steel. The +chains were mental deterioration, degeneration, mutation within the very +cells of the mind. He knew that now he must tend this monster forever, +grease and wipe the ugly metal of it, and sit and talk idly to +MacNamara, its keeper. He realized it, and didn't know how to care! + +The anger and hate came later. The real, abiding anger, and the living +hate. At first the numbness, the sudden incomprehensible enormity of +what had happened to him, then the anger. Hate churned and ground away +inside him, getting stronger by the hour. It all revolved around the +Captain who tramped eternally around the corridors bellowing orders, +punching with his huge fists. He knew there was more to it; the lying +owners of the Company, the bribe-taking officials, the health officers +who failed to examine the ships and the men and the ships' papers. But +somehow it all boiled down to the Captain. + +Sometimes he was sure he must be crazy already. Sometimes he would wake +up screaming from a nightmare only to find reality more horrible. + +Then he would go to Ann. + +Ann was not the only woman aboard ship. There were three others, and to +the crew of twenty imprisoned, enslaved men they represented all beauty, +all womanhood. They lived with the men--as the men--and nobody cared. +Here, so close to the raging elementals of the pile, life itself was +elemental. + +As one of them expressed it to Gene: "Why worry? We're all sterile from +the radioactivity anyway. Or didn't you know?" She had been on the ship +for years, and was covered with a fine fur, like a cat's. Her eyes were +wide, placid, empty; an animal's unthinking eyes. Gene prayed Ann would +never turn monster before his eyes; hoped desperately they could get +away in time. + +"We've got to fight, Ann," he said to her one day. "We must find a way +to get off at the end of the trip, or it will be too late for us to live +normal lives. It's then or never. Besides that, we've got to warn people +of what's going on. They think space travel is safe. In time this could +effect the whole race. The world must be told, so something can be +done." + +Ann's young face showed signs of the strain. The fear of turning into +some hideous thing was preying on her mind. She spoke rapidly, her voice +breaking a little. "I've been talking to several of the crew, the +old-timers, trying to get an understanding of why nothing is done. It's +this way: when the ships land, guards come aboard. They're posted at the +cargo locks and the passenger entrances. The only door aboard the ship +that leads to the passenger compartment is in the Captain's cabin, and +it's locked from both sides. Even our Captain never meets the +passengers. There's only one chance, a mutiny. Then we could open the +door, show the passengers." + +"It wouldn't do any good. When we landed, they'd find a way to shut us +all up before we got to anybody. They've had a lot of practice keeping +this quiet. They know the answers." + +She stamped a foot angrily. "It was you who said we had to fight! Now +you say it's hopeless!" + +Gene leaned against the wall and passed a hand across his eyes. He +looked at Ann's flushed beauty and managed a grin. "Guess I'm getting as +bad as the rest of them, baby. We'll fight. Sure we'll fight." + + * * * * * + +It started with Schwenky. Schwenky was a gigantic Swede. He was the boss +freight handler. It was his job to sort the cargo for the next port of +call. He would get it into the cargo lock, then seal the doors so nobody +would try to smuggle themselves out with the freight. Schwenky was +intensely loyal and stupid enough not to understand the real reason +behind their imprisonment--which was why he held his job. No one got by +Schwenky. + +But this time, in Marsport, something was missing. They'd driven the +trucks up to the cargo port, unloaded everything, and then compared +invoices with the material. They swore some claimed machinery parts were +due them. Schwenky swore he'd placed them in the cargo lock, and that +the truckers were trying to hold up the Company. + +The Captain allowed the truckers claim and after the ship had blasted +off into space, called Schwenky in to bawl him out. They must have +gotten really steamed up, because Gene and Frank Maher heard the racket +clear down on the next deck where they were cleaning freight out of a +sealed compartment for the next stop. + +Gene and Frank raced up the ladders to the top deck, and Gene found the +break he had prayed for. Schwenky holding the Captain against the wall; +beating the monstrosity that had once been a man with terrible fists. +Gene felt a sudden thrill. In a situation like this you used any weapon +you could find. Schwenky was a deadly weapon. + +Gene laid a hand on Schwenky's massive shoulder. "Hold it man! You'll +kill him!" + +Schwenky turned a face, red and popeyed, to Gene. "The Captain make a +mistake. He try to knock Schwenky down. No man do that to Schwenky." + +"When he comes to, he'll lock you in the brig, put you on bread and +water...." + +Suddenly Schwenky realized the enormity of his offense. It was obvious +from his face that he considered himself already dead. "Nah, my friend +Gene! Now they kill Schwenky. Bad! But what I do?" + +Gene eyed him carefully. "Put the Captain in the brig, of course. What +else? Then he _can't_ kill you." + +"Lock him up, eh? Good idea! Then we think, you and I, what we do next. +Maybe something come to us, eh?" + +Gene bent over the Captain's body, found the pistol in his hip pocket, +put it in his own. He took the ring of keys from the belt. + +"Bring him along, Schwenky. If we meet anyone, I'll use this." Gene +patted the gun. "I won't let them hurt my friend, Schwenky." + +"Damn! let them come! I fix them! Don't have to shoot them. I got +fists!" + +"I'd rather be shot, myself," said Gene, watching the ease with which +the giant freight handler lifted the huge body of the Captain, tossing +it over his shoulder like a sack of straw. + +"I'll go ahead," said Frank Maher. "If I run into Perkins, the First, +I'll whistle once. If I run into Symonds, the Second, I'll whistle +twice. I don't think there's another soul aboard we need worry about. +All we got to do is slap the Cap in the brig, round up Perkins and +Symonds, and the ship is ours. What worries me, Gene, then what do we +do?" + +"It's Schwenky's mutiny," grinned Gene. "Ask him." + +"Nah!" said Schwenky hastily. "I don' know. Maybe we just sail on till +we find good place, leave ship, go look for job." + +Maher said, "Me with my lumpy face? And the Chief with hair on his +cheekbones and double eyeballs? And Heinie with fingernails growing +where his collar button should be? I wonder what we _can_ do, if we get +free?" + + * * * * * + +They got down the first stairwell, but passing along the rather lengthy +companionway to the next stairhead, they heard Maher whistle twice. +Schwenky put the Captain down, conked him with one massive fist to make +sure he stayed out, then stood there, waiting. The Second came up out of +the stairwell, turned and started toward them. Gene put his hand on the +gun butt, waiting until he had to pull it. Schwenky said: "Come here, +Mr. Perkins, sir. Look see what has happened!" + +The Englishman peered at the shapeless, hairy mass of the unconscious +Captain. His face went white. Gene knew he was wondering if he could +keep the crew from mutiny without the Captain present to cow them. +Perkins straightened, his face a pallid mask in the dimness. "What +happened, Schwenky?" + +"This, Mr. Perkins, sir--" said Schwenky. He slapped an open palm +against the side of Perkins' head. Perkins sprawled full length on the +steel deck, but he wasn't out, which surprised Gene. He lay there, +staring up at the gigantic Swede, his face half red from the terrible +blow, the other half white with the fear in him. His hand was tugging at +his side and Gene realized he was after his gun. Gene pulled out his own +weapon even as he leaped upon the slim body of the man on the floor. His +feet missed the moving arm, the hand came out with a snub-nosed +automatic in it. Gene grabbed it, bore down. But the gun went off, the +bullet ricocheting off the wall-plates with a scream. Gene slugged the +man across the head with the barrel of the Captain's gun. Perkins went +limp. Maher came up now and grabbed Perkins' gun. + +"Lead on," said Gene. He picked Perkins up and put him over his +shoulder. Schwenky retrieved the slumbering Captain and they proceeded +on their way to the cell on the bottom deck. + +But the shot had been heard, and from above came the sound of running +feet. Gene began to trot, almost fell down the last flight of stairs, +went along the companionway at a run. At the cell door he dropped +Perkins, tried four or five keys frantically. One fit. He pulled open +the door and Schwenky drove in, kicking the body of Perkins over the +sill. The Captain dropped heavily to the deck and Schwenky was out +again. Gene was locking the door when he heard the shout from Symonds, +running toward them. + +"What's going on there, men?" + +Schwenky started to amble toward the dark, wiry Second, his big face +smiling like that of a simpleton. "We haf little trouble, Mr. Symonds, +sir. Maybe we should call you, but we did not haf time. Everything is +all right now. You come see, we explain everything...." + +He made a grab for the little Second Mate's neck with one big paw. But +the Second was wary, ducked quickly, was off. Gene and Maher sprang +after him. Gene shouted: "Stop or I'll fire, Symonds! You're all alone +now!" + +Gene let one shot angle off the wall, close beside the fleeing form, but +the man didn't stop. Instead he headed for the bridge. Gene realized he +could lock himself in, keep them from the ship controls. He could hold +out there the rest of the voyage. + +"We've got to stop him!" + +Maher close behind, they ran up the stairs on the Second's heels. Up the +companionway they pounded, the Second increasing his lead. A door opened +ahead of him and Ann O'Donnell appeared. + +Symonds cursed and tried to pass her. Ann deftly slid out one pretty leg +and the officer turned a somersault, and brought up against the wall at +the foot of the stairs to the upper deck and the bridge. + +But the Second was too frightened to let a little thing like a fall stop +him. He went scrambling up the stairs on all fours. Gene was still too +far away, and Ann moved like a streak of light. She sailed through the +air in a long dancer's leap and with two bounds was up the stair, ahead +of the scrambling, fear-stricken officer. + +"Out of my way, bitch," and Symonds hurled himself toward Ann. + +Gene leaped forward, but he needn't have bothered. Ann lifted one of her +educated feet, caught the Second under the chin and he came down the +stair like a sack of meal. Gene caught his full weight. + +The two men fell in a scramble of flailing arms and legs, knocking the +props out from under Maher, who had started out after them. Just how the +mixup might have turned out they were not to know, for just then the +vast weight of Schwenky descended upon the three and Maher let out a +scream of anguish. But Gene and Symonds were on the bottom, too crushed +by this tactic to make a sound. + + * * * * * + +It was minutes later when Gene came back to consciousness, finding his +head resting in Ann O'Donnell's lap while her swift hands prodded him +here and there, looking for broken bones. + +"I'm dead for sure," groaned Gene. + +"You've just had the wind knocked out of you. You'll be all right," and +Ann let his head fall from her grasp with a thump. She stood up, a +little abashed at the going over she'd been giving him. + +"Where're my mutineers?" Gene asked. + +"Went to lock Symonds with the others. What is going to happen now? I'm +not sure I like this development, now it's happened." + +"You should have thought of that before you tripped Symonds," said Gene. +"But I'll admit there are problems. For instance, with all the officers +in the brig, how can we be sure we can keep this atomic junk heap headed +in the right direction?" + +"What _is_ the correct direction?" asked Ann, squatting down beside him. + +"I don't know. We'll have to figure it out, then see if we can point her +that way." + +"Let's get up to the bridge," she said. + +Schwenky and Maher found them brooding over the series of levers and +buttons which comprised the control board. Schwenky noted their baffled +frowns. His big face took on a worried look. "You fix!" he said. "You +good fellow, Gene. We run ship, let officers go to hell. Yah!" + +Maher scratched one patch of greying hair over his left eye. The rest of +his skull was covered with brown bumps like fungus growths. "It's just +possible we'll wreck the ship, let the air out of her or something, if +we experiment," he warned. + +"Go get MacNamara," said Gene. "He's been on the ship longer than any of +us. Maybe he'll know." + +He didn't. "All I know is grease cups," he reminded Gene. + +Hours later eighteen men and four women gathered together in the +recreation room to discuss a plan of action. Everyone had his or her +ideas, but after an hour of wrangling, they got nowhere. Finally Gene +held up a hand and shouted for silence. + +"Let's decide who's boss, then follow orders," he said. "If I may be so +bold, how about me?" + +"Yah!" said Schwenky. "I do what you say. I like you!" + +Old MacNamara grumbled to himself. "Do nothing, I say. We ought to stick +to our duty, and save the lives of those who would have to take our +places...." The unguarded pile had given MacNamara a martyr complex. + +Maher looked over at him. "Your idea of sacrifice is all very fine, +MacNamara. But we're not all anxious to die. You know what would happen +now if we gave up!" + +Gene spoke up again. "Let me summarize the position we're in--maybe then +we can make a better decision." + +"Go ahead," said Ann. The others nodded and fell silent, waiting. + +Gene cleared his throat. "The way it looks to me, we've had a lucky +accident in getting control of the ship. So far, we've not contacted the +passengers. They know nothing of the change that's taken place. As it +is, I see no point in contacting them. It might force us to face another +mutiny, that of the passengers, who would regard us as what we are, +mutineers, and when they found we weren't going to our destination, +they'd certainly not all take it lying down. Point number one, then, is +to ignore the passengers, keep the knowledge of a mutiny from them. + +"Now, our real purpose in this mutiny is to expose this whole vicious +secret slavery, tell Earth of the danger of the unshielded piles in +space ships, destroy the Company's monopoly, and bring about new +research which I'm sure would eventually overcome the difficulty. Just +how are we going to do that? The answer is simple--we must get back to +Earth, and we must get back in a way the Company will not be able to +intercept us. As I understand it, this won't be easy. The Company is in +complete control of space travel, and they have the ships to knock us +out of space before we can get near Earth. Somehow we've got to win +through. Can we do it by a direct return to Earth? I doubt it. However, +say we do it. Then where do we go? The government might look upon us as +mutineers and thus give the Company a chance to quash the whole affair. + +"So we've got to go directly to the people, who, once they _see_ us, and +realize what space travel with these piles means, will demand an +explanation with such public feeling even the government can't avoid a +showdown. It's the secrecy we must break. Thus, we must land on Earth +with the biggest possible splurge of publicity. We've got to do it so no +Company ship can prevent it. + +"Then there's this to consider. Most of you would find it a difficult +thing to take up a life on Earth. I know that many of you want to take +off for some remote world, and try to live out your lives by yourselves. +I say that would be a cowardly thing to do. So, before we decide +anything else, I say let's decide here and now that the _only_ thing we +will do is go back to Earth." + +One of the most grotesquely deformed of the crew spoke up. "No woman +would ever look at me," he said defiantly. "Children would stare at me +and scream in terror. I've suffered enough. Why should I suffer more?" + +The woman in the fine fur got to her feet and walked over to him. She +sat down beside him and took his hand in hers. "I will look at you," she +said. "When we get back to Earth, I will marry you and live with you--if +you are brave enough to take me there." + +For an instant the crewman stared at her out of his horribly bulging +popeyes, then he swallowed hard and clutched her hand fiercely. + +"The Devil himself will not keep me from it!" he said hoarsely. + +Gene, staring at the man, felt a warm hand slip into his, and he turned +to find Ann. + +"I think that answers for all of us," she said. + +The room rang with the shouts of approval. + +Once more Gene began talking. "All right, then, I've a plan. First, +we'll try to find out how to maneuver this craft. I believe we can +persuade one of the Mates to show us the controls without much trouble." + +"Yah!" interrupted Schwenky. "They show!" + +"We'll set a course for Earth by the sun. We'll come in with the sun at +our back, which means we'll have to make a wide circle off the traveled +spacelanes, through unknown space, and come in from the direction of the +inner planets, which are uninhabited and unvisited. Also, with the sun +behind us, we won't be observed from Earth. Then, with all our speed, +we'll come in, land at high noon in Chicago, right in front of the +offices of the _Sentinel_, the newspaper for which I work." + +There was a chorus of exclamations. Ann looked at him in amazement. +"You, a newspaperman!" she gasped. + +"Yes. I was sent out by my boss to find out what was behind the secrecy +of the space ships. I got shanghaied as a crew member. Now, with your +help, maybe I can complete my assignment. Once we get to my boss, the +show will be over. He'll blast the story wide open." + +"Wonderful!" shouted Maher. "Come, Schwenky! We will get Perkins and +make him show us how to run the ship!" + +Schwenky chortled in glee. "Yah! We get. By golly, I know that Gene +O'Neill is good man! Maybe I get my picture in newspaper?" + +Maher stared at him. "God forbid!" he said. "Unless it's in the comic +section!" + +"Yah!" agreed Schwenky. "In comic section!" + + * * * * * + +Two weeks later, as the ship crossed Earth's orbit and headed in behind +the planet in the plane of the sun, the meteorite hit. It tore a great +hole in the passenger side of the ship, and knocked out the port jets. + +The ship veered crazily under the influence of its lopsided blast, and +the crew was hurled against the wall and pinned there as the continuing +involuntary maneuver built up acceleration. + +Gene, who had been in his bunk, was pressed against the wall by a giant +hand. Savagely he fought to adjust himself into a more bearable +position, then tried to figure out what had happened. Obviously the ship +was veering about, out of control. + +"Meteorite!" he gasped. "We've been hit." + +He pulled himself from the bunk, slid along the wall to the door. It was +all he could do to open it, but once in the companionway outside, he +found that he could crawl along one wall, off the floor, in an inching +progress. He made it finally to the control room, and forced his body +around the door jamb and inside. Against the far wall Maher was +plastered, dazed, but conscious. At his feet lay Heinie, his head +crushed, obviously dead. + +"Cut off the rest of the jets!" gasped Maher. "I can't make it!" + +Gene crawled slowly around the room, following the wall, until he could +reach the controls, then he pulled the lever that controlled the jet +blast. The ship's unnatural veering stopped instantly and both Maher and +Gene dropped heavily to the floor. + +Gene was up first and helped Maher to his feet. Together they turned to +the indicators. + +"Passenger deck's out!" said Maher. "Except for a few compartments. The +automatic seals have operated. But there must be somebody left alive in +them." + +"We've got to get them," said Gene. "But first, we've got to check up on +what damage has been done here, and how many casualties we have." + +"Heinie's dead," said Maher. "He hit the wall with his head." + +Gene shuddered, and deep in his stomach nausea churned. He thought of +Ann and his blood froze in his veins. "You take below decks, I'll go +up," he said. Ann's cabin was on the deck above. + +Maher nodded and staggered away. Gene scrambled up the stairwell as fast +as he could, and ran down the corridor. At Ann's door he stopped, turned +the knob. The door opened. The room was empty. + +Suddenly he heard running footsteps, and Ann threw herself into his +arms, sobbing. + +"Where were you?" he asked, almost savagely. + +"I went to your cabin, to see if you were hurt. What happened to the +ship?" + +"Meteorite hit us. Knocked out the passenger deck. Most of the +passengers will be dead, but we've got to go in and rescue the +survivors." + +Doors were opening here and there and the crew members able to make it +were congregating around them. They went to the recreation room. There +Gene counted noses. Five crewmen were missing. Of those present, six men +were injured, and one woman exhibited a black eye, accentuating her +other abnormalities. The three prisoners were reported unharmed. + +"What about the missing men?" Gene asked. + +"Three dead," Maher replied, "two badly hurt. We'll need somebody to +look after them." + +"I'll go," volunteered Ann. The woman in fur stepped forward also, and +they left the room behind Maher and Schwenky. + +Gene faced the rest. "We've got a real problem now. With a reduced crew, +we'll have to finish a trip that would have been tough with an uninjured +ship. But first, we've got to search the passenger deck and remove the +survivors. All of you who are able, put on pressure suits and come with +me." + +He led the way to the locker containing the pressure suits. Seven men, +those who were not too deformed to don the suits, made up the party. +Gene led the way to the Captain's stateroom, ordered the door sealed +behind them, then opened the only door to the damaged deck. The air +rushed out as the door swung open, and suddenly complete silence +descended upon them. There would be no more communication between them +except for signs. + +[Illustration] + +In an hour they had determined the truth. All passengers but one, a +woman, had been killed instantly. The woman was unconscious, but +suffering only from bruises. It had been necessary, after discovering +her unpierced cabin, to return to the deck above and cut through with a +torch. + +When she regained consciousness and saw her rescuers, she screamed. + +"That'll give us some idea of how the people back on Earth will receive +us," said Gene. "If we get there, that is." + +Later, in the control room, Maher and MacNamara gave their report. + +"We can make it," said MacNamara, "but we'll come in limping like a +wounded moose. If any of the Company ships sight us, we'll be a sitting +duck. But maybe it will be better that way. This is like war, and some +of us must die...." His voice trailed off in a mumble. + +"Some of us _are_ dying," said Maher. "But he's right, Gene; we can make +it, with luck. We'll not be able to come in fast, nor land in the city, +but we'll make it to Earth." + +"That's enough," decided Gene. "If we can land near Chicago, I think I +can manage the rest." + +They turned to the controls, and MacNamara went back to his pile room. +Once more the ship limped on, this time directly toward the ball of +Earth, looming a scant twenty million miles away. + + * * * * * + +It took eight days to come within a million miles of their goal. Then +tragedy struck again. The cabin on the passenger deck from which they +had removed the sole survivor blew its door, and the air on the deck +above rushed out through the hole they had burned into the cabin. It had +been forgotten, and it meant the lives of three more crew members. + +Then, as they prepared to bring the ship into the atmosphere, Maher, +peering through the telescope, let out a shout. "Company ship, coming up +fast! They're after us!" + +Gene leaped to the telescope and peered through. Far to the left, a +glowing silver streak in the sky, was the familiar shape of a space +ship, growing larger by the minute. Studying it, Gene saw that it was an +armed cruiser. + +"They've got wise," said Maher. "I thought they would, when we didn't +check in at Io. Probably radioed back to be on the lookout for us." + +"Call MacNamara," said Gene. "We've got to see if he can set us down +faster. Maybe there's some way to step up that pile." + +Maher rushed off, and Ann came in. "What's up?" she asked. + +"Cruiser after us," said Gene, his face grim. "Looks like we won't get +to Chicago unless MacNamara has something up that old sleeve of his." + +Ann went white, and together they waited for the old Engineer. + +When he came in, Gene gestured to the telescope. "Take a look." + +MacNamara squinted through the eyepiece with his double popeyes. "Don't +see a thing," he grumbled. + +"Well, it's a Company Cruiser, gunned to the limit. She's going to be +near enough to shoot us down in about three hours." + +"Three hours, you say?" MacNamara scratched his head. "How near we to +Earth?" + +"Half a million miles." + +"You could make it in the lifeboat." + +Gene snorted. "That Cruiser'd shoot down the lifeboat as easy as it will +the ship--a lot easier." + +"If they can catch you," said MacNamara. "Some of us must die, that the +rest may live." + +"Don't start that again, Mac," said Maher impatiently. "What we want to +know is whether you can soup up that pile so we can beat that Cruiser +down to Earth?" + +"Not a thing I can do," said the Chief Engineer. "We've only one set of +tubes. Full power would shoot us all over the sky. But I _can_ do +something as good." + +"What?" + +The old Engineer considered them through his double eyes. "The rest of +you'll take the lifeboat and make for Earth. I'll remain here on the +ship and shield your flight. I'm sure I can hide the little boat for +awhile, and then, even with one jet, I think I can delay the cruiser +until you get away. Someone's got to make a sacrifice. I'm old, and I +didn't want any of this to begin with." + +Maher gasped. "Mac, you old fool. D'ya mind if I apologize for what I +just said? But you're right, that's a possible answer. Only I'll be the +one to stay." + +"Do you know how to adjust the pile and the jets to make a weapon out of +them?" asked MacNamara. + +"No ..." began Maher. + +MacNamara grinned, "Nor am I going to tell you! So, you see, you can't +be the one to stay." + +Maher gripped the old man's hand and pumped it. "You win," he said. "You +old ... crackpot!" There was real affection in his voice. + +"Then be off with you," said the Chief Engineer. "You've not a minute to +lose. Every man jack of you into the boat, including the Captain and the +Mates. I'll not have _my_ ship cluttered up with extra hands that might +cramp my style...." And turning, the old man made his way back to the +pile room, mumbling to himself. + +Eyes wet, Gene gave the orders to abandon ship, and within thirty +minutes every living soul was aboard the lifeboat. + +MacNamara had finished his work with the pile and was back in the +control room, waiting for the lifeboat to cast off. As it did so, he +waved, then turned to the controls. + +As the lifeboat darted away on its chemical jet engines, they could see +the old man maneuvering the big ship so as to keep it ever between them +and the Cruiser. An hour later when they were within a hundred thousand +miles of Earth, MacNamara sent up a flare denoting surrender. + +Tensely they watched the distant speck of light that was the ship with +MacNamara on it. Then, around its side came the Company Cruiser, +steering in toward it to make the capture. It was scarcely a thousand +miles from the disabled ship. Gradually it drew closer, then edged in. +Now it was only a few miles away, and at this distance, both specks +seemed to merge. + +"They got him!" Maher said. + +"Yah!" Schwenky boomed, disappointment in his voice. "Me, I should have +been the one to stay. I would slap them." + +Suddenly, out in space, a bright flower grew. A flower of incandescent +light that blossomed with terrifying rapidity, until it seemed to engulf +all space in the area of the two ships. The familiar sphere of +brilliance that marked an exploding atom bomb hung there in the heavens +an instant, then it was gone. In its place was only a vast cloud of +smoke, the dust and scattered atoms that were all that remained of two +gigantic space ships. + +"He detonated the pile!" said Gene, "He turned himself into an atom +bomb!" + +"Yah!" said Schwenky, his voice strangely muted. "Yah!" Awkwardly he +turned and patted Ann's head as she began to sob. + + * * * * * + +"Is it not handsome?" asked Schwenky proudly, holding the front page of +the newspaper up for all to see. "I have my picture in the paper! Is it +not nice?" + +Laughing, Ann kissed the big Swede right on the lips, and hugged him, +paper and all. "It's beautiful, you big lug!" she said. "The handsomest +picture I've ever seen in any paper." + +"Nah!" denied Schwenky. "It is not the handsomest. All of us have our +pictures in the paper. We are all very good looking! Not only Schwenky. +Is it not so, Gene, my friend?" + +Gene grinned at him, and at the others. Maher pounded him on the back, +and over the uproar came the voice of the editor of the _Sentinel_. +"Telephone for Mr. Schwenky!" + +Schwenky looked dazed, cocked his big ears at the editor. "For +Schwenky?" he asked stupidly. "Telephone? Who would call Schwenky on the +telephone?" + +"How do I know?" said the editor. "It's some lady...." He thrust the +phone into the big Swede's hand. + +"Lady?" said Schwenky wonderingly. "Hello ... lady ..." he spoke into +the receiver, his booming voice making it rattle. + +"The other ..." began Gene, then desisted. "Never mind, she'll hear +you...." + +"What? You want to marry me? Lady...." Schwenky's eyes bulged even more, +and he roared into the transmitter. "Lady! You wait! I come!" He thrust +the phone into the editor's hands and made for the door like a lumbering +bull. + +"Where you going?" yelled Gene. + +Schwenky halted, turned with a big grin, "I go to marry lady. She asked +me to become my wife!" + +"Where is she?" asked Gene. "Where are you going to meet her?" + +Schwenky looked stupidly at the now silent phone. "By golly! I forget to +ask her!" There was tragedy in his voice. "Now I never find her!" + +The editor laughed. "Never mind--you'll get a hundred more proposals +before the day's over. You can take your pick!" + +Schwenky's eyes opened wide. Then he grinned again. "Yah!" he roared. "I +take my pick! She will be so beautiful! Yah!" + +The chatter of the teletype interrupted him, and the editor turned to +watch the tape as it came from the machine. Then he began to read: + +"Washington. April 23. President Walworth has grounded all spaceships +and ordered all those enroute to proceed to the nearest port. A +Congressional committee has been picked, including top members of the +cabinet, to investigate the ships, the atomic drives, and the system of +secret slavery among crews. In a statement to the Press, President +Walworth said that space travel will not be resumed until proper shields +are developed. But he added that he had been informed by leading +physicists that the problem can be solved within a year if sufficient +funds were available. Said the President: 'I will see that the funds are +made available!'" + +The editor dropped the tape and turned to Gene. "I have one more bit of +information, this one direct from the President by phone. He has asked +me to inform you that he has appointed you new head of FAST." + +"FAST?" asked Gene. "What's that?" + +"Federal Agency for Space Travel," grinned the editor. "And +congratulations. I hate to lose a good reporter, but maybe you'll be +back after you finish in Washington--at a substantial increase in +salary." + +Gene grinned back. "Maybe I will," he said. "And I'll need the money." +He put an arm around Ann and drew her to him. "Two can't live as cheap +as one, you know." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hell Ship, by Raymond Alfred Palmer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HELL SHIP *** + +***** This file should be named 32615.txt or 32615.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/1/32615/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan 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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