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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2761540 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51335 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51335) diff --git a/old/51335-h.zip b/old/51335-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 04e6874..0000000 --- a/old/51335-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51335-h/51335-h.htm b/old/51335-h/51335-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 74f5b38..0000000 --- a/old/51335-h/51335-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1168 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fresh Air Fiend, by Kris Neville. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.poetry .stanza -{ - margin: 1em auto; -} - -.poetry .verse -{ - padding-left: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fresh Air Fiend, by Kris Neville - -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/license - - -Title: Fresh Air Fiend - -Author: Kris Neville - -Release Date: March 1, 2016 [EBook #51335] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRESH AIR FIEND *** - - - - -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" width="362" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>Fresh Air Fiend</h1> - -<p>By KRIS NEVILLE</p> - -<p>Illustrated by KARL ROGERS</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction February 1952.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>Sick and helpless, he was very lucky to have a<br /> -faithful native woman to nurse him. Or was he?</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He rolled over to look at the plants. They were crinkled and dead and -useless in the narrow flower box across the hut. He tried to draw his -arm under his body to force himself erect. The reserve oxygen began to -hiss in sleepily. He tried to signal Hertha to help him, but she was -across the room with her back to him, her hands fumbling with a bowl of -dark, syrupy medicine. His lips moved, but the words died in his throat.</p> - -<p>He wanted to explain to her that scientists in huge laboratories with -many helpers and millions of dollars had been unable to find a cure -for liguna fever. He wanted to explain that no brown liquid, made -like cake batter, would cure the disease that had decimated the crews -of two expeditions to Sitari and somehow gotten back to cut down the -population of Wiblanihaven.</p> - -<p>But, watching her, he could understand what she thought she was doing. -At one time she must have seen a pharmacist put chemicals into a mortar -and grind them with a pestle. This, she must have remembered, was what -people did to make medicine, and now she put what chemical-appearing -substances she could locate—flour, powdered coffee, lemon extract, -salt—into a bowl and mashed them together. She was very intent on her -work and it probably made her feel almost helpful.</p> - -<p>Finally she moved out of his field of vision; he found that he could -not turn his head to follow her with his eyes. He lay conscious but -inert, like waterlogged wood on a river bottom. He heard sounds of her -movement. At last he slept.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He awakened with a start. His head was clearer than it had been for -hours. He listened to the oxygen hissing in again. He tried to read the -dial on the far wall, but it blurred before his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Hertha," he said.</p> - -<p>She came quickly to his cot.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="600" height="396" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"What does the oxygen register say?"</p> - -<p>"Oxygen register?"</p> - -<p>He gritted his teeth against the fever which began to shake his body -mercilessly until he wanted to scream to make it stop. He became angry -even as the fever shook him: angry not really at the doctors; not -really at any one thing. Angry because the mountains did not care if -he saw them; angry that the air did not care if he breathed it. Angry -because, between planets, between suns, the coldness of space merely -waited, not giving a damn.</p> - -<p>Several years ago—ten, twenty, perhaps more—some doctor had finally -isolated a strain of the filterable virus of liguna fever that could -be used as a vaccine: too weak to kill, but strong enough to produce -immunity against its more virulent brother strains. That opened up the -Sitari System for colonization and exploration and meant that the men -who got there first would make fortunes.</p> - -<p>So he went to the base at Ke, first selling his strip mine property and -disposing of his tools and equipping his spaceship for the intersolar -trip; and at Ke they shot him full of the disease. But his bloodstream -built no antibodies. The weakened virus settled in his nervous system -and there was no way of getting it out. The doctors were very sorry -for him, and they assured him it was a one-in-ten-thousand phenomenon. -Thereafter, he suffered recurrent paralytic attacks.</p> - -<p>If it had not been for the advance warning—a pain at the base of -his spine, a moment of violent trembling in his knees—he would have -been forced to give up solitary strip mining altogether. As it was, -whenever he felt the warning, he had to hurry to the nearest colony and -be hospitalized for the duration of the attack. He had had four such -warnings on this satellite, and three times he had gone to Pastiville -on Helio and been cared for and come away with less money than he had -gone with.</p> - -<p>His bank credit, once large, had slowly dribbled away, and now he -made just about enough from his mining to care for himself during -illness. He could not afford to hunt for less dangerous, less isolated -work. It would not pay enough, for he knew how to do very little that -civilization needed done. He was finally trapped; no longer could he -afford a pilot for the long flight from Helio to a newer frontier, and -he could not risk the trip alone.</p> - -<p>He lay waiting for the new spasm of fever and stared at Hertha who, -this time, would care for him here and he would not need to go to a -hospital. Perhaps, after a little while, he would be able to save -enough to push on, through the awful indifference of space, to some new -world where, with luck, there would be a sudden fortune.</p> - -<p>Then he could go back to civilization.</p> - -<p>He realized bitterly that he was merely telling himself he would go -back. He knew there was only one direction he could go, and that -direction was not back.</p> - -<p>Hertha waited, hurt-eyed, moving her pudgy hands helplessly.</p> - -<p>When the shaking subsided, he explained through chattering teeth about -the oxygen register across the room, and she went away.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The fever vanished completely, leaving him listless. His hand, lying on -the rough blanket, was abnormally white. He wiggled the fingers, but he -could not feel the wool.</p> - -<p>His mouth was dry and he wanted a drink of water.</p> - -<p>Hertha moved out of his range of vision. He shifted his head on the -damp pillow and watched her out of the corner of his eye.</p> - -<p>He had never heard her real name, but she did not seem to object to his -name for her.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">I am that which began;</div> - <div class="verse">Out of me the years roll;</div> - <div class="verse">Out of me God and man;</div> - <div class="verse">I am equal and whole;</div> - <div class="verse">God changes, and man,</div> - <div class="verse">And the form of them bodily;</div> - <div class="verse">I am the soul.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>He tried to sit up again, but he was very weak. He wanted to quote -it to her and tell her what he had never told her: that the name of -it was <i>Hertha</i> and that it had been written long ago by a man named -Swinburne, and he wanted to explain why he had named her after a poem, -because it was very funny.</p> - -<p>The harsh light hurt his eyes and made him feel dizzy. He lay watching -her as she bent toward the oxygen dial, wrinkling her face in animal -concentration, trying to read it for him. Her puzzled expression was -pathetic; it reminded him of the first time he had seen her.</p> - -<p>The walls began to spin crazily, for the hut had been intended for only -one person.</p> - -<p>He remembered the first time he saw her, cowering in a filthy alleyway -in the Miramus. At first he thought she had taken some food from a -garbage pail and was trying to conceal it by holding it to her breast. -But when the flare of a rocket leaving the field two blocks away lit -the area for a moment, he saw that she was holding a tiny welikin, -terribly mangled, looking as if it had just been run over by a heavy -transport truck. He took it away from her and threw it into the -darkness, shuddering.</p> - -<p>"It was dead," he said.</p> - -<p>She continued to stare at him, starting to cry silently, big, round, -salt tears that she brushed at with reddened hands.</p> - -<p>"My—my—" she stammered.</p> - -<p>He had an eerie feeling that she was trying to say, "My baby," and he -felt a little chill of pity creep up his spine.</p> - -<p>"What do you do?" he asked kindly.</p> - -<p>"Sweep floors. I work a little for the Commander's wife. Around her -home."</p> - -<p>"How did you get here?"</p> - -<p>Still crying, she said, "On a rocket."</p> - -<p>"Of course. What I meant was...." But he did not need to ask how -she had gotten passed the emigration officers. Some influential -man—such things could happen, especially when the destination was a -relatively new frontier, such as Helio, where there was little danger -of investigation—had seen to it that certain answers were falsified; -and a little money and a corrupt official had conspired to produce a -passport which read, "Mentally and physically fit for colonization."</p> - -<p>The influential man had, in effect, bought and paid for a personal -slave to bring with him to the stars. She would not know of her legal -rights. She would be easily frightened and confused. And then something -had happened, and for some reason she had been abandoned to shift for -herself. Perhaps she had run away.</p> - -<p>He looked away from her face. This was none of his affair.</p> - -<p>"Never mind," he said. He reached into his pocket and gave her a few -coins and then turned and walked rapidly away, suddenly anxious to see -the bright, remembered face of the young colonist, Doris, Don's friend; -a face that would chase away the memory of this pathetic creature.</p> - -<p>After a moment, he heard the pad of her feet hopefully, fearfully -following him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She was standing beside his cot again, and he concentrated to make the -walls stop spinning.</p> - -<p>"It had a blue line."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know. Where?"</p> - -<p>She showed him with her fingers. "This much."</p> - -<p>"Halfway up?" he prompted.</p> - -<p>Dumbly, she nodded.</p> - -<p>He looked at the plants. "Hertha, listen. I've got to talk before the -paralysis comes back. You'll have to listen very carefully and try to -understand. I'll be all right in about ten days. You know that?"</p> - -<p>She nodded again.</p> - -<p>He took a deep breath that seemed to catch in his throat. "But you'll -have to go outside before then."</p> - -<p>Hertha whimpered and fluttered her hands nervously.</p> - -<p>"I know you're afraid," he said. "I wouldn't ask you, but it has to be -done. I can't go. You can see that, can't you? It has to be done."</p> - -<p>"Afraid!"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense!" he said harshly. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Put on -the outside suit and nothing can hurt you."</p> - -<p>Moaning in fear, she shook her head.</p> - -<p>"Listen, Hertha! You've <i>got</i> to do it. For <i>me</i>!" He did not like -to make the appeal personal. He would have preferred to convince her -that fear of the outside was groundless. It was not possible. He had -attempted, again and again, to explain that the tiny satellite with -its poison air was completely harmless as long as she wore a surface -suit. There was no alien life, no possible danger, outside this tiny -square of insulated hut and breathable air. But it was useless. And the -personal appeal was the only course remaining. It was as much for her -sake as his; she also needed oxygen, but she could never understand -that fact.</p> - -<p>"For you?" she asked.</p> - -<p>He nodded, feeling the fever rise. His face twisted in pain, and he -stared pleadingly into her cow-like eyes: dumb eyes, animal eyes, brown -and trusting and ... loyal. The paralysis struck. His voice would not -come up out of his chest and the dizziness swamped his mind, and, in -fever, he was once again in Pastiville, the nearest planet with an -oxygen atmosphere.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Hertha followed him up the alley, out into the cheap glitter of -Windopole Avenue, a rutted, smelly street which was the center of the -port-workers' section. She followed him across Windopole, up Venus, -across Nineshime. He turned into the Lexo Building, which had become -shabby since he had seen it last, when it had been freshly painted. She -did not follow him inside, and he breathed a sigh of relief and tried -to put her out of his mind as he walked up the stairs to the room 17B.</p> - -<p>After a moment's hesitation, his heart knocking with pleasant -anticipation, he pressed the buzzer.</p> - -<p>"Come in."</p> - -<p>He found the knob, twisted open the door, entered.</p> - -<p>"Why Jimmy!" the girl said in what seemed to be surprise and heavy -delight. She crossed to him quickly and offered her lips to be kissed. -"It's good to see you!"</p> - -<p>He took half a step backward, trying to keep the shock out of his face.</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's <i>so</i> good to see you, Jimmy! Sit down. Tell me all about it, -about everything. Did you make loads and loads of money? When did you -get back? How's the lig fever?"</p> - -<p>He sat down, scarcely listening, studying the apartment, feeling -vaguely ill. She was chattering, he realized, to overcome her -embarrassment.</p> - -<p>"The books you ordered came. I've got them right here. They're all -there but some poetry or other. There was a letter about that, but the -people just said they didn't have it in stock. I opened it to see if it -required an answer. Just a sec. I'll get them for you." She left the -room with quick, nervous strides.</p> - -<p>The apartment had been redone since he had seen it. There were now -expensive drapes at the windows, imported from somewhere; a genuine -Earth tapestry hung above the door. Plump silken pillows scattered on -the floor and a late model phono-general in the corner, with a gleaming -cabinet and record spool accessory box.</p> - -<p>She came back with the books, neatly done up in a bundle.</p> - -<p>"I guess you still read as much as ever? Don said you always were a -great reader."</p> - -<p>Uncomfortably, he stood up.</p> - -<p>She put the books on a low serving table, moistened her lips to make -them glistening red. "Sit <i>down</i>, Jimmy!"</p> - -<p>He still stood.</p> - -<p>"<i>Jimmy!</i>" she said in mock anger. "Sit down! Goodness, it's good to -have a fellow Earthman to talk to. I was so busy when you came by the -other time, we scarcely had a <i>minute</i> to talk. I'd just got here, you -remember.... Well, I'm settled now, so we'll just have to have a nice, -long talk."</p> - -<p>He shifted on his feet.</p> - -<p>"I don't suppose you've heard from Don?" Her voice was strained, almost -desperate. "Isn't it the oddest thing, him knowing you and me, and both -of us right here?"</p> - -<p>"He told me to write how you were getting along?"</p> - -<p>"... Oh."</p> - -<p>He smiled without humor and felt like an old man. He wanted to explain -how he had looked forward to seeing a person from his own planet again. -Now he wanted to remind her of the girl he remembered: When she had -just arrived, still unpacking, eager to start as a junior secretary for -the League.</p> - -<p>"Thank you for letting me send the books here," he said. The sickness -was heavy in the pit of his stomach, and suddenly he was hard and -bitter. He quoted softly:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"The world forsaken,</div> - <div class="verse">And out of mind</div> - <div class="verse">Honor and labor,</div> - <div class="verse">We shall not find</div> - <div class="verse">The stars unkind."</div> -</div></div> - -<p>"Old poetry? I guess you really do read a—" Then understanding made -her eyes wince. "That wasn't intended to be very complimentary, was it, -Jimmy?"</p> - -<p>Her name was no longer Doris; it was any of a thousand, and -her perfume, heavy in his nostrils, was not her perfume or any -individual's. She was there before him; she was real. But along with -her were a thousand names and a thousand scents. There was the painful -nostalgia of recognizing a strange room.</p> - -<p>Awkwardly he said, "I really must go. I'd like to have a long talk, -but—"</p> - -<p>Her lips parting in sudden artificiality, she crossed to him, reached -for his hand with her own.</p> - -<p>In his mind was the heavy futility of repeating the same thing -senselessly until it lost all meaning.</p> - -<p>"I apologize about the poem," he said, because he knew that it was not -his place to speak of it.</p> - -<p>"That's all right," she said with hollow cheerfulness. Her mouth jerked -and her eyes darkened. "Please don't go yet."</p> - -<p>The palms of his hands were moist. He looked around the apartment -again, and he did not want to ask, to bring it out in cruel words. It -was not the sort of thing one asked.</p> - -<p>"I really must go," he repeated levelly.</p> - -<p>She put her hands on his shoulders. "Please...."</p> - -<p>And then he saw that she intended to bribe him in the only way she knew -how, and he said, "Don't worry, I won't tell Don."</p> - -<p>He saw relief on her face, and then he was out of the apartment, -shaken. He felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach, and he was -sickened and his hand trembled. He wanted to talk to someone and try to -explain it.</p> - -<p>Hertha was waiting when he came out to the street.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The fever passed; control of his body returned.</p> - -<p>"For you?" Hertha asked.</p> - -<p>He half propped himself up on the cot. He waved his hand weakly. "Those -dead plants. You must throw them out and bring in more."</p> - -<p>He listened tensely, imagining that he could hear the precious oxygen -hiss in from the emergency tank to freshen and revitalize the dead air. -Halfway down on the dial. Not enough for ten days, even for one person, -unless the air was replenished by bringing in plants.</p> - -<p>"Hertha, we've got to purify this air. Now listen. Listen carefully, -Hertha. You've seen me dig up those plants on the outside?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I watch when you go out. I always watch, Jimmy."</p> - -<p>"Good. You've got to do the same thing. You've got to go out and dig up -some plants. You've got to bring them in here and plant them the way I -did. You know which ones they are?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said.</p> - -<p>He closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to make her see how vital -a thing a tiny plant could be. The complex chemistry of it bubbled to -the surface of his mind. He wanted to tell her why the plants died in -the artificial human atmosphere and had to be replaced every week or -so. He wanted to tell her, but he was growing weaker.</p> - -<p>"They purify the air by releasing oxygen. You understand?"</p> - -<p>She nodded her head dumbly.</p> - -<p>"You must bring in a great many plants, Hertha. Remember that—a -<i>great</i> many. Don't forget that. When you go outside, through the -locks, we lose air. Air is very precious, so you must bring in a great -many plants."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Jimmy."</p> - -<p>"And you must plant them as I did."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Jimmy."</p> - -<p>He began to talk faster, in a race with the growing fever.</p> - -<p>"I've gathered most of the oxygenating plants around the hut. So you -may have to go into the forest to get enough."</p> - -<p>"The—the forest?"</p> - -<p>"You <i>must</i>, Hertha! You <i>must</i>!"</p> - -<p>Her mouth twisted as if she were ready to cry. "For you. Yes, for you I -will go into the forest."</p> - -<p>The fever came back. His mind wandered away.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He was walking in the open air. He walked from Nineshime to Venus, down -Venus to Windopole, up Windopole to "The Grand Eagle and Barrel." He -went in. Hertha came with him and sat down by his side at the bar.</p> - -<p>The bartender looked at him oddly. "She with you, Mac?"</p> - -<p>He turned to look at her; her dumb, brown eyes met his. He wanted to -snarl: "Get the hell away! Leave me alone!" But he choked back the -words. It was not Hertha he was angry with. She had done him no injury. -She had merely followed him, perhaps because she knew of nothing else -to do; perhaps because of temporary gratitude for the coins; perhaps -in hope that he would buy her a drink. When the anger passed, he felt -sorry for her again.</p> - -<p>He said, "Want a drink?"</p> - -<p>She shook her head without changing expression.</p> - -<p>He looked at her and shrugged and thought that after a while she would -get tired and go away. He ordered, and the bartender brought a bottle -and one glass.</p> - -<p>Hertha continued to stare at him; he tried to ignore her.</p> - -<p>He drank. He thought it would get easier to ignore her as the level of -the bottle fell. It didn't. He drank some more. It grew late.</p> - -<p>"I gotta explain," he said, the liquor swirling in his mind.</p> - -<p>She waited, cow-eyed.</p> - -<p>"Ernest Dowson. Man's name. He wrote a poem—<i>Beata Solitudo</i>. I wanna -explain this. Man lived long, long, long, long time ago. You listenin'? -Okay. That's good. That's fine. He said—it's ver' importan' you should -unnerstan' this—he said how you put honor and labor out of your mind -when you ... you're out here. What he meant, it's ... it's ... you -see.... Now I gotta make you see all this. So you listen real close -while I tell it to you. There was a man named...."</p> - -<p>He wanted to explain how the frontier does things to people. He wanted -to explain how society is a tight little box that keeps everything -locked up and hidden, but how society breaks down and becomes fluid -in the stars, and how people explode and forget what they learned in -civilization, and how everything is unstable.</p> - -<p>"This man, his name's—" he said.</p> - -<p>He wanted to explain how the harsh elements and brute nature and space, -the God-awful emptiness and indifference and the sense of aloneness and -selfishness and....</p> - -<p>There were a thousand things he wanted to tell her. They were all the -things he had thought about as he followed the frontier. If he could -get it all down right, he could make her see why he had to follow the -frontier as long as there was anything left inside of him.</p> - -<p>Maybe the rest of the people out here were that way, too. Maybe he had -seen it in Doris' eyes tonight. Maybe that was why society broke down -in the stars and civilization came only when men and women like him -were gone.</p> - -<p>He did not want to know how the rest felt. He did not know whether it -would be more terrifying to learn that he was alone, or that he was not -alone.</p> - -<p>But just for tonight, he could tell the alien creature beside him. It -would be safe to tell her—if the idea had not rusted inside of him so -long that there were no longer any words to fit it.</p> - -<p>But first he had to make her see his home planet and the great cities -and the landscaped valleys and the majestic mountains and the people. -He had to make her see the vast sweep of the explorers who first -carried the race to a million planets, who devised faster-than-light -ships and metals to make the ships out of, metals to hold their forms -in the crucible beyond normal space. He had to make her see the -colonists who tied all the world together with spans of steel commerce -and then moved on in ever-widening circles. He wanted to give her the -whole picture.</p> - -<p>Then he wanted to explain the surge, the restlessness of the men at the -frontier. Different men, he thought; from the womb of civilization, -but unlike their brothers. The men who pushed out and out. Searching, -always searching. He was afraid to find out if their reasons were the -same as his. For himself, he had seen a thousand planets and a thousand -new life-forms. But it was not enough. There were the vast, blank, -empty, indifferent reaches of space beyond him, and that was what drove -him on.</p> - -<p>This he wanted to say to Hertha: No matter how far you go, the thing -that gets you is that there's nothing that cares; no matter how far, -the thing is that nothing cares; the thing is that nothing cares. It -gets you. And you have to go on because some day, somewhere, there may -be—something.</p> - -<p>But he lost the trend of his thoughts completely, and he had another -drink.</p> - -<p>"Decent people come out here...."</p> - -<p>What was he going to say about decent people?</p> - -<p>"Stupid!" he cried, slapping her in the face.</p> - -<p>She rubbed her cheek. "Stupid?"</p> - -<p>He wanted to cry, for he had not known that he was brutal. "Can't you -see?" he screamed, and it was necessary to explain it to her; and then -it was not necessary. "You're like the awful, indifferent, mindless -blackness of space, unreasoning!"</p> - -<p>"Unreasoning," she repeated carefully.</p> - -<p>"You're <i>Hertha</i>!"</p> - -<p>"I'm Hertha," she said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The period of calmness that returned after the fever was crystal and -lucid, preceding, he knew, a severe, prolonged seizure.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid," she told him, shivering, "but I will go."</p> - -<p>He watched her get into the light surface suit, clamp down the helmet -with trembling hands. He was shaking with nervousness as she hesitated -at the lock. Then she pulled it open. It clicked behind her. He heard -the brief hiss of the oxygen replacing the air that had whooshed out.</p> - -<p>And he felt sorry for her, alone, terrified, on the scaly, hard -surface of the tiny satellite. He closed his eyes, pictured her walking -past his strip mine, past the gleaming heap of minerals ready for the -transport.</p> - -<p>He felt tears in his eyes and yet he could not entirely explain his -feelings toward her—half fear, sometimes half affection. But more -important than that: Why was she with him? What were her feelings? Had -some sense of gratitude made her come? Affection?</p> - -<p>He could not understand her. At times she seemed beyond all -understanding. Her responses were mindless, almost mechanical, and that -frightened him.</p> - -<p>He remembered her dumb, apologetic caresses and her pathetically clumsy -tenderness—or reflex; he could never be sure—and her eager yet -reluctant hands and the always slightly hurt, slightly accusing look in -her eyes, as if at every instant she was ready for a stinging blow, and -her great sighs, muted as if fearing to be heard and....</p> - -<p>He was drunk, screaming meaninglessly, and the bartender threw him out. -The pavement cut his face. When he awoke, it was morning and he was in -a strange room and she was in bed beside him.</p> - -<p>She said, "I am Hertha. I brought you home. I will go with you."</p> - -<p>The paralysis set in. He could not move. The tears froze on his cheeks, -and he lay inert, thinking of her almost mindlessly fighting for his -life in the alien outside.</p> - -<p>Then she was back in the hut. So soon?</p> - -<p>She looked at him, smiled through the transparent helmet at him. He -could hear the precious oxygen hiss in to compensate for the air that -had been lost when she entered.</p> - -<p>He could see her eyes. They were proud. Relieved, too, as if she had -been afraid he would be gone when she returned. He felt she had hurried -back to be sure that he was still there.</p> - -<p>She knelt by the flower bed and, without removing her suit, she held -up the plant proudly. He could see the hard-packed dirt in the roots. -Fascinated, he watched her scrape a planting hole. He watched her set -the plant delicately and pat the soil with care.</p> - -<p>Then she stood up.</p> - -<p>He tried to move, to cry out. He could not.</p> - -<p>He watched her until she went out of the range of his fixed eyes. She -was going to the airlock again.</p> - -<p>After a moment he heard the familiar hiss of oxygen.</p> - -<p>She was going to get a great number of plants.</p> - -<p>But one at a time.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fresh Air Fiend, by Kris Neville - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRESH AIR FIEND *** - -***** This file should be named 51335-h.htm or 51335-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/3/51335/ - -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/license - - -Title: Fresh Air Fiend - -Author: Kris Neville - -Release Date: March 1, 2016 [EBook #51335] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRESH AIR FIEND *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - Fresh Air Fiend - - By KRIS NEVILLE - - Illustrated by KARL ROGERS - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction February 1952. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - Sick and helpless, he was very lucky to have a - faithful native woman to nurse him. Or was he? - - -He rolled over to look at the plants. They were crinkled and dead and -useless in the narrow flower box across the hut. He tried to draw his -arm under his body to force himself erect. The reserve oxygen began to -hiss in sleepily. He tried to signal Hertha to help him, but she was -across the room with her back to him, her hands fumbling with a bowl of -dark, syrupy medicine. His lips moved, but the words died in his throat. - -He wanted to explain to her that scientists in huge laboratories with -many helpers and millions of dollars had been unable to find a cure -for liguna fever. He wanted to explain that no brown liquid, made -like cake batter, would cure the disease that had decimated the crews -of two expeditions to Sitari and somehow gotten back to cut down the -population of Wiblanihaven. - -But, watching her, he could understand what she thought she was doing. -At one time she must have seen a pharmacist put chemicals into a mortar -and grind them with a pestle. This, she must have remembered, was what -people did to make medicine, and now she put what chemical-appearing -substances she could locate--flour, powdered coffee, lemon extract, -salt--into a bowl and mashed them together. She was very intent on her -work and it probably made her feel almost helpful. - -Finally she moved out of his field of vision; he found that he could -not turn his head to follow her with his eyes. He lay conscious but -inert, like waterlogged wood on a river bottom. He heard sounds of her -movement. At last he slept. - - * * * * * - -He awakened with a start. His head was clearer than it had been for -hours. He listened to the oxygen hissing in again. He tried to read the -dial on the far wall, but it blurred before his eyes. - -"Hertha," he said. - -She came quickly to his cot. - -"What does the oxygen register say?" - -"Oxygen register?" - -He gritted his teeth against the fever which began to shake his body -mercilessly until he wanted to scream to make it stop. He became angry -even as the fever shook him: angry not really at the doctors; not -really at any one thing. Angry because the mountains did not care if -he saw them; angry that the air did not care if he breathed it. Angry -because, between planets, between suns, the coldness of space merely -waited, not giving a damn. - -Several years ago--ten, twenty, perhaps more--some doctor had finally -isolated a strain of the filterable virus of liguna fever that could -be used as a vaccine: too weak to kill, but strong enough to produce -immunity against its more virulent brother strains. That opened up the -Sitari System for colonization and exploration and meant that the men -who got there first would make fortunes. - -So he went to the base at Ke, first selling his strip mine property and -disposing of his tools and equipping his spaceship for the intersolar -trip; and at Ke they shot him full of the disease. But his bloodstream -built no antibodies. The weakened virus settled in his nervous system -and there was no way of getting it out. The doctors were very sorry -for him, and they assured him it was a one-in-ten-thousand phenomenon. -Thereafter, he suffered recurrent paralytic attacks. - -If it had not been for the advance warning--a pain at the base of -his spine, a moment of violent trembling in his knees--he would have -been forced to give up solitary strip mining altogether. As it was, -whenever he felt the warning, he had to hurry to the nearest colony and -be hospitalized for the duration of the attack. He had had four such -warnings on this satellite, and three times he had gone to Pastiville -on Helio and been cared for and come away with less money than he had -gone with. - -His bank credit, once large, had slowly dribbled away, and now he -made just about enough from his mining to care for himself during -illness. He could not afford to hunt for less dangerous, less isolated -work. It would not pay enough, for he knew how to do very little that -civilization needed done. He was finally trapped; no longer could he -afford a pilot for the long flight from Helio to a newer frontier, and -he could not risk the trip alone. - -He lay waiting for the new spasm of fever and stared at Hertha who, -this time, would care for him here and he would not need to go to a -hospital. Perhaps, after a little while, he would be able to save -enough to push on, through the awful indifference of space, to some new -world where, with luck, there would be a sudden fortune. - -Then he could go back to civilization. - -He realized bitterly that he was merely telling himself he would go -back. He knew there was only one direction he could go, and that -direction was not back. - -Hertha waited, hurt-eyed, moving her pudgy hands helplessly. - -When the shaking subsided, he explained through chattering teeth about -the oxygen register across the room, and she went away. - - * * * * * - -The fever vanished completely, leaving him listless. His hand, lying on -the rough blanket, was abnormally white. He wiggled the fingers, but he -could not feel the wool. - -His mouth was dry and he wanted a drink of water. - -Hertha moved out of his range of vision. He shifted his head on the -damp pillow and watched her out of the corner of his eye. - -He had never heard her real name, but she did not seem to object to his -name for her. - - I am that which began; - Out of me the years roll; - Out of me God and man; - I am equal and whole; - God changes, and man, - And the form of them bodily; - I am the soul. - -He tried to sit up again, but he was very weak. He wanted to quote -it to her and tell her what he had never told her: that the name of -it was _Hertha_ and that it had been written long ago by a man named -Swinburne, and he wanted to explain why he had named her after a poem, -because it was very funny. - -The harsh light hurt his eyes and made him feel dizzy. He lay watching -her as she bent toward the oxygen dial, wrinkling her face in animal -concentration, trying to read it for him. Her puzzled expression was -pathetic; it reminded him of the first time he had seen her. - -The walls began to spin crazily, for the hut had been intended for only -one person. - -He remembered the first time he saw her, cowering in a filthy alleyway -in the Miramus. At first he thought she had taken some food from a -garbage pail and was trying to conceal it by holding it to her breast. -But when the flare of a rocket leaving the field two blocks away lit -the area for a moment, he saw that she was holding a tiny welikin, -terribly mangled, looking as if it had just been run over by a heavy -transport truck. He took it away from her and threw it into the -darkness, shuddering. - -"It was dead," he said. - -She continued to stare at him, starting to cry silently, big, round, -salt tears that she brushed at with reddened hands. - -"My--my--" she stammered. - -He had an eerie feeling that she was trying to say, "My baby," and he -felt a little chill of pity creep up his spine. - -"What do you do?" he asked kindly. - -"Sweep floors. I work a little for the Commander's wife. Around her -home." - -"How did you get here?" - -Still crying, she said, "On a rocket." - -"Of course. What I meant was...." But he did not need to ask how -she had gotten passed the emigration officers. Some influential -man--such things could happen, especially when the destination was a -relatively new frontier, such as Helio, where there was little danger -of investigation--had seen to it that certain answers were falsified; -and a little money and a corrupt official had conspired to produce a -passport which read, "Mentally and physically fit for colonization." - -The influential man had, in effect, bought and paid for a personal -slave to bring with him to the stars. She would not know of her legal -rights. She would be easily frightened and confused. And then something -had happened, and for some reason she had been abandoned to shift for -herself. Perhaps she had run away. - -He looked away from her face. This was none of his affair. - -"Never mind," he said. He reached into his pocket and gave her a few -coins and then turned and walked rapidly away, suddenly anxious to see -the bright, remembered face of the young colonist, Doris, Don's friend; -a face that would chase away the memory of this pathetic creature. - -After a moment, he heard the pad of her feet hopefully, fearfully -following him. - - * * * * * - -She was standing beside his cot again, and he concentrated to make the -walls stop spinning. - -"It had a blue line." - -"Yes, I know. Where?" - -She showed him with her fingers. "This much." - -"Halfway up?" he prompted. - -Dumbly, she nodded. - -He looked at the plants. "Hertha, listen. I've got to talk before the -paralysis comes back. You'll have to listen very carefully and try to -understand. I'll be all right in about ten days. You know that?" - -She nodded again. - -He took a deep breath that seemed to catch in his throat. "But you'll -have to go outside before then." - -Hertha whimpered and fluttered her hands nervously. - -"I know you're afraid," he said. "I wouldn't ask you, but it has to be -done. I can't go. You can see that, can't you? It has to be done." - -"Afraid!" - -"Nonsense!" he said harshly. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Put on -the outside suit and nothing can hurt you." - -Moaning in fear, she shook her head. - -"Listen, Hertha! You've _got_ to do it. For _me_!" He did not like -to make the appeal personal. He would have preferred to convince her -that fear of the outside was groundless. It was not possible. He had -attempted, again and again, to explain that the tiny satellite with -its poison air was completely harmless as long as she wore a surface -suit. There was no alien life, no possible danger, outside this tiny -square of insulated hut and breathable air. But it was useless. And the -personal appeal was the only course remaining. It was as much for her -sake as his; she also needed oxygen, but she could never understand -that fact. - -"For you?" she asked. - -He nodded, feeling the fever rise. His face twisted in pain, and he -stared pleadingly into her cow-like eyes: dumb eyes, animal eyes, brown -and trusting and ... loyal. The paralysis struck. His voice would not -come up out of his chest and the dizziness swamped his mind, and, in -fever, he was once again in Pastiville, the nearest planet with an -oxygen atmosphere. - - * * * * * - -Hertha followed him up the alley, out into the cheap glitter of -Windopole Avenue, a rutted, smelly street which was the center of the -port-workers' section. She followed him across Windopole, up Venus, -across Nineshime. He turned into the Lexo Building, which had become -shabby since he had seen it last, when it had been freshly painted. She -did not follow him inside, and he breathed a sigh of relief and tried -to put her out of his mind as he walked up the stairs to the room 17B. - -After a moment's hesitation, his heart knocking with pleasant -anticipation, he pressed the buzzer. - -"Come in." - -He found the knob, twisted open the door, entered. - -"Why Jimmy!" the girl said in what seemed to be surprise and heavy -delight. She crossed to him quickly and offered her lips to be kissed. -"It's good to see you!" - -He took half a step backward, trying to keep the shock out of his face. - -"Oh, it's _so_ good to see you, Jimmy! Sit down. Tell me all about it, -about everything. Did you make loads and loads of money? When did you -get back? How's the lig fever?" - -He sat down, scarcely listening, studying the apartment, feeling -vaguely ill. She was chattering, he realized, to overcome her -embarrassment. - -"The books you ordered came. I've got them right here. They're all -there but some poetry or other. There was a letter about that, but the -people just said they didn't have it in stock. I opened it to see if it -required an answer. Just a sec. I'll get them for you." She left the -room with quick, nervous strides. - -The apartment had been redone since he had seen it. There were now -expensive drapes at the windows, imported from somewhere; a genuine -Earth tapestry hung above the door. Plump silken pillows scattered on -the floor and a late model phono-general in the corner, with a gleaming -cabinet and record spool accessory box. - -She came back with the books, neatly done up in a bundle. - -"I guess you still read as much as ever? Don said you always were a -great reader." - -Uncomfortably, he stood up. - -She put the books on a low serving table, moistened her lips to make -them glistening red. "Sit _down_, Jimmy!" - -He still stood. - -"_Jimmy!_" she said in mock anger. "Sit down! Goodness, it's good to -have a fellow Earthman to talk to. I was so busy when you came by the -other time, we scarcely had a _minute_ to talk. I'd just got here, you -remember.... Well, I'm settled now, so we'll just have to have a nice, -long talk." - -He shifted on his feet. - -"I don't suppose you've heard from Don?" Her voice was strained, almost -desperate. "Isn't it the oddest thing, him knowing you and me, and both -of us right here?" - -"He told me to write how you were getting along?" - -"... Oh." - -He smiled without humor and felt like an old man. He wanted to explain -how he had looked forward to seeing a person from his own planet again. -Now he wanted to remind her of the girl he remembered: When she had -just arrived, still unpacking, eager to start as a junior secretary for -the League. - -"Thank you for letting me send the books here," he said. The sickness -was heavy in the pit of his stomach, and suddenly he was hard and -bitter. He quoted softly: - - "The world forsaken, - And out of mind - Honor and labor, - We shall not find - The stars unkind." - -"Old poetry? I guess you really do read a--" Then understanding made -her eyes wince. "That wasn't intended to be very complimentary, was it, -Jimmy?" - -Her name was no longer Doris; it was any of a thousand, and -her perfume, heavy in his nostrils, was not her perfume or any -individual's. She was there before him; she was real. But along with -her were a thousand names and a thousand scents. There was the painful -nostalgia of recognizing a strange room. - -Awkwardly he said, "I really must go. I'd like to have a long talk, -but--" - -Her lips parting in sudden artificiality, she crossed to him, reached -for his hand with her own. - -In his mind was the heavy futility of repeating the same thing -senselessly until it lost all meaning. - -"I apologize about the poem," he said, because he knew that it was not -his place to speak of it. - -"That's all right," she said with hollow cheerfulness. Her mouth jerked -and her eyes darkened. "Please don't go yet." - -The palms of his hands were moist. He looked around the apartment -again, and he did not want to ask, to bring it out in cruel words. It -was not the sort of thing one asked. - -"I really must go," he repeated levelly. - -She put her hands on his shoulders. "Please...." - -And then he saw that she intended to bribe him in the only way she knew -how, and he said, "Don't worry, I won't tell Don." - -He saw relief on her face, and then he was out of the apartment, -shaken. He felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach, and he was -sickened and his hand trembled. He wanted to talk to someone and try to -explain it. - -Hertha was waiting when he came out to the street. - - * * * * * - -The fever passed; control of his body returned. - -"For you?" Hertha asked. - -He half propped himself up on the cot. He waved his hand weakly. "Those -dead plants. You must throw them out and bring in more." - -He listened tensely, imagining that he could hear the precious oxygen -hiss in from the emergency tank to freshen and revitalize the dead air. -Halfway down on the dial. Not enough for ten days, even for one person, -unless the air was replenished by bringing in plants. - -"Hertha, we've got to purify this air. Now listen. Listen carefully, -Hertha. You've seen me dig up those plants on the outside?" - -"Yes, I watch when you go out. I always watch, Jimmy." - -"Good. You've got to do the same thing. You've got to go out and dig up -some plants. You've got to bring them in here and plant them the way I -did. You know which ones they are?" - -"Yes," she said. - -He closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to make her see how vital -a thing a tiny plant could be. The complex chemistry of it bubbled to -the surface of his mind. He wanted to tell her why the plants died in -the artificial human atmosphere and had to be replaced every week or -so. He wanted to tell her, but he was growing weaker. - -"They purify the air by releasing oxygen. You understand?" - -She nodded her head dumbly. - -"You must bring in a great many plants, Hertha. Remember that--a -_great_ many. Don't forget that. When you go outside, through the -locks, we lose air. Air is very precious, so you must bring in a great -many plants." - -"Yes, Jimmy." - -"And you must plant them as I did." - -"Yes, Jimmy." - -He began to talk faster, in a race with the growing fever. - -"I've gathered most of the oxygenating plants around the hut. So you -may have to go into the forest to get enough." - -"The--the forest?" - -"You _must_, Hertha! You _must_!" - -Her mouth twisted as if she were ready to cry. "For you. Yes, for you I -will go into the forest." - -The fever came back. His mind wandered away. - - * * * * * - -He was walking in the open air. He walked from Nineshime to Venus, down -Venus to Windopole, up Windopole to "The Grand Eagle and Barrel." He -went in. Hertha came with him and sat down by his side at the bar. - -The bartender looked at him oddly. "She with you, Mac?" - -He turned to look at her; her dumb, brown eyes met his. He wanted to -snarl: "Get the hell away! Leave me alone!" But he choked back the -words. It was not Hertha he was angry with. She had done him no injury. -She had merely followed him, perhaps because she knew of nothing else -to do; perhaps because of temporary gratitude for the coins; perhaps -in hope that he would buy her a drink. When the anger passed, he felt -sorry for her again. - -He said, "Want a drink?" - -She shook her head without changing expression. - -He looked at her and shrugged and thought that after a while she would -get tired and go away. He ordered, and the bartender brought a bottle -and one glass. - -Hertha continued to stare at him; he tried to ignore her. - -He drank. He thought it would get easier to ignore her as the level of -the bottle fell. It didn't. He drank some more. It grew late. - -"I gotta explain," he said, the liquor swirling in his mind. - -She waited, cow-eyed. - -"Ernest Dowson. Man's name. He wrote a poem--_Beata Solitudo_. I wanna -explain this. Man lived long, long, long, long time ago. You listenin'? -Okay. That's good. That's fine. He said--it's ver' importan' you should -unnerstan' this--he said how you put honor and labor out of your mind -when you ... you're out here. What he meant, it's ... it's ... you -see.... Now I gotta make you see all this. So you listen real close -while I tell it to you. There was a man named...." - -He wanted to explain how the frontier does things to people. He wanted -to explain how society is a tight little box that keeps everything -locked up and hidden, but how society breaks down and becomes fluid -in the stars, and how people explode and forget what they learned in -civilization, and how everything is unstable. - -"This man, his name's--" he said. - -He wanted to explain how the harsh elements and brute nature and space, -the God-awful emptiness and indifference and the sense of aloneness and -selfishness and.... - -There were a thousand things he wanted to tell her. They were all the -things he had thought about as he followed the frontier. If he could -get it all down right, he could make her see why he had to follow the -frontier as long as there was anything left inside of him. - -Maybe the rest of the people out here were that way, too. Maybe he had -seen it in Doris' eyes tonight. Maybe that was why society broke down -in the stars and civilization came only when men and women like him -were gone. - -He did not want to know how the rest felt. He did not know whether it -would be more terrifying to learn that he was alone, or that he was not -alone. - -But just for tonight, he could tell the alien creature beside him. It -would be safe to tell her--if the idea had not rusted inside of him so -long that there were no longer any words to fit it. - -But first he had to make her see his home planet and the great cities -and the landscaped valleys and the majestic mountains and the people. -He had to make her see the vast sweep of the explorers who first -carried the race to a million planets, who devised faster-than-light -ships and metals to make the ships out of, metals to hold their forms -in the crucible beyond normal space. He had to make her see the -colonists who tied all the world together with spans of steel commerce -and then moved on in ever-widening circles. He wanted to give her the -whole picture. - -Then he wanted to explain the surge, the restlessness of the men at the -frontier. Different men, he thought; from the womb of civilization, -but unlike their brothers. The men who pushed out and out. Searching, -always searching. He was afraid to find out if their reasons were the -same as his. For himself, he had seen a thousand planets and a thousand -new life-forms. But it was not enough. There were the vast, blank, -empty, indifferent reaches of space beyond him, and that was what drove -him on. - -This he wanted to say to Hertha: No matter how far you go, the thing -that gets you is that there's nothing that cares; no matter how far, -the thing is that nothing cares; the thing is that nothing cares. It -gets you. And you have to go on because some day, somewhere, there may -be--something. - -But he lost the trend of his thoughts completely, and he had another -drink. - -"Decent people come out here...." - -What was he going to say about decent people? - -"Stupid!" he cried, slapping her in the face. - -She rubbed her cheek. "Stupid?" - -He wanted to cry, for he had not known that he was brutal. "Can't you -see?" he screamed, and it was necessary to explain it to her; and then -it was not necessary. "You're like the awful, indifferent, mindless -blackness of space, unreasoning!" - -"Unreasoning," she repeated carefully. - -"You're _Hertha_!" - -"I'm Hertha," she said. - - * * * * * - -The period of calmness that returned after the fever was crystal and -lucid, preceding, he knew, a severe, prolonged seizure. - -"I'm afraid," she told him, shivering, "but I will go." - -He watched her get into the light surface suit, clamp down the helmet -with trembling hands. He was shaking with nervousness as she hesitated -at the lock. Then she pulled it open. It clicked behind her. He heard -the brief hiss of the oxygen replacing the air that had whooshed out. - -And he felt sorry for her, alone, terrified, on the scaly, hard -surface of the tiny satellite. He closed his eyes, pictured her walking -past his strip mine, past the gleaming heap of minerals ready for the -transport. - -He felt tears in his eyes and yet he could not entirely explain his -feelings toward her--half fear, sometimes half affection. But more -important than that: Why was she with him? What were her feelings? Had -some sense of gratitude made her come? Affection? - -He could not understand her. At times she seemed beyond all -understanding. Her responses were mindless, almost mechanical, and that -frightened him. - -He remembered her dumb, apologetic caresses and her pathetically clumsy -tenderness--or reflex; he could never be sure--and her eager yet -reluctant hands and the always slightly hurt, slightly accusing look in -her eyes, as if at every instant she was ready for a stinging blow, and -her great sighs, muted as if fearing to be heard and.... - -He was drunk, screaming meaninglessly, and the bartender threw him out. -The pavement cut his face. When he awoke, it was morning and he was in -a strange room and she was in bed beside him. - -She said, "I am Hertha. I brought you home. I will go with you." - -The paralysis set in. He could not move. The tears froze on his cheeks, -and he lay inert, thinking of her almost mindlessly fighting for his -life in the alien outside. - -Then she was back in the hut. So soon? - -She looked at him, smiled through the transparent helmet at him. He -could hear the precious oxygen hiss in to compensate for the air that -had been lost when she entered. - -He could see her eyes. They were proud. Relieved, too, as if she had -been afraid he would be gone when she returned. He felt she had hurried -back to be sure that he was still there. - -She knelt by the flower bed and, without removing her suit, she held -up the plant proudly. He could see the hard-packed dirt in the roots. -Fascinated, he watched her scrape a planting hole. He watched her set -the plant delicately and pat the soil with care. - -Then she stood up. - -He tried to move, to cry out. He could not. - -He watched her until she went out of the range of his fixed eyes. She -was going to the airlock again. - -After a moment he heard the familiar hiss of oxygen. - -She was going to get a great number of plants. - -But one at a time. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fresh Air Fiend, by Kris Neville - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRESH AIR FIEND *** - -***** This file should be named 51335.txt or 51335.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/3/51335/ - -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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