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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..cfcd4bf --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51759 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51759) diff --git a/old/51759-h.zip b/old/51759-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fa41f86..0000000 --- a/old/51759-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51759-h/51759-h.htm b/old/51759-h/51759-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 629f6e4..0000000 --- a/old/51759-h/51759-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1308 +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 Traveling Companion Wanted, by Richard Wilson. - </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; -} - -.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 Traveling Companion Wanted, by Richard Wilson - -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: Traveling Companion Wanted - -Author: Richard Wilson - -Release Date: April 14, 2016 [EBook #51759] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRAVELING COMPANION WANTED *** - - - - -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="377" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>Traveling Companion Wanted</h1> - -<p>By Richard Wilson</p> - -<p>Illustrated by DILLON</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Magazine June 1959.<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>To share exps., relieve at wheel—must be<br /> -able drive under grt. pressure—in return<br /> -transp. doz. mi. or so under ocean bottom!</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>You remember Regan. He's the man who fell overboard in a spacesuit and -found that there really is a passage to India. It winds down from the -Champion Deep in the Atlantic and comes out somewhere off Bombay. It -took Regan a week to pop in one end of that underworld river and emerge -at the other. He was delirious when he bobbed to the surface and was -picked up by the Chinese motorship. Starved, of course; had to spend a -long time in the hospital after he'd been transferred to shore.</p> - -<p>The newspapers and radio and television made quite a thing of it. -Reporters managed to interview Regan while he was still weak and maybe -talking a little crazy. They got together afterward and agreed among -themselves on what parts to leave out. Then Regan sold the first-person -rights to a syndicate. He insisted on writing the installments himself, -but a lot was edited out while the staff writer was re-doing it.</p> - -<p>I didn't hear Regan's unpublished story till I met him in the bar at -the Palmer House in Chicago. He'd been attending a geophysical meeting -that I'd had to cover and we'd both got bored with it about the same -time. I thought I recognized him from his pictures and said so. Regan -seemed glad to have a non-longhair to talk to, and he talked.</p> - -<p>You know why Regan had been wearing a spacesuit in the first place; -he'd become something of a hero on the return trip of one of the -Earth-Mars hops after a meteor struck. Regan went out through the -airlock to make repairs. It was his job as chief of maintenance. -Patched up the hole and went back in. Routine, he said.</p> - -<p>But the skipper messaged a report to Earth, and when the spaceship -reached the way station to take on landing fuel, the press was waiting -for it. The photographers were along and they wanted Regan to re-enact -the repair scene. He didn't want to, but the skipper insisted because -it would be good public relations. So Regan climbed into the spacesuit -again and took along his mobile repair gear and tinkered away on the -hull while the photogs snapped away from a patrol boat.</p> - -<p>That was when the repair unit went out of whack.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Its mobility factor wasn't supposed to do anything more than move him -around on the hull to wherever he had to go. He'd worked with it a -hundred times in test sessions and once in reality and it'd always been -a lamb. But this time it went all screwy and shoved him off the hull. -In some way one of the conduits wrapped itself around his arms like an -octopus, pinning them so he couldn't reach the controls. And in some -other way the tiny rocket engine zipped over to full power and plunged -him down toward Earth.</p> - -<p>If it had headed him out toward space, it would have been all right. -The patrol boat could have overtaken him in a few hours at most and -hauled him aboard. But Regan was heading Earthward and soon he was down -where the traffic's pretty congested. The patrol boat made some valiant -efforts, but after a couple of near misses with transcontinental -rockets, it gave up. Better to lose one person than a couple of hundred.</p> - -<p>Radio messages were sent to low-flying craft and ships at sea. These -didn't do any good, except that a trawler was able to spot the position -where Regan, in his spacesuit, smacked the water and went under. The -trawler didn't have a radio transmitter. It waited a while, and when -nothing came up, it put about for land. A day later, the spot where -Regan had gone down was alive with would-be rescue ships, submarines -and diving equipment.</p> - -<p>But Regan never came up—not in that ocean, at any rate.</p> - -<p>I knew this story pretty well, so Regan didn't elaborate on it. He'd -blacked out, anyway, soon after he hit the atmosphere and didn't come -to till he was close to smacking the surface. That's when it began to -get interesting.</p> - -<p>You've seen enough undersea movies to know what the ocean is like, so -we won't go into that. This is what happened when Regan got down to -what should have been the bottom:</p> - -<p>There was a big crater there, with the bottom stretching away in all -directions from the cavity—but the hole itself kept going down. -Funnel-shaped, Regan said. He could see it quite clearly because he was -plunging into it head down. The tentacles of the conduit were still -wrapped around his arms and the mobility gadget's rocket was naturally -working almost as well under water as it had in space.</p> - -<p>After a while, it got dark, with Regan still zipping along into the -depths of the funnel. He'd long since passed the stage of being merely -worried; now he was scared. By this time, it was entirely black, but -Regan could sense that he was being carried along swiftly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Not because he thought it would do any good, but because he had to do -something, Regan experimented with his feet. He found that after some -back-stretching calisthenics he was able to bring his right boot up -near his waist. Maneuvering it with total disregard for his sacroiliac, -Regan managed to hook the boot under one of the coils the conduit had -made around him. Gradually he was able to loosen it enough to give -his left arm some play and from there it was relatively simple. He -switched off the rocket engine, switched on his headlamp and looked -around.</p> - -<p>Regan said it was quite a sight, in a reverse sort of way. Nothing -anywhere. With the rocket turned off, he kind of floated around -aimlessly, going nowhere in particular. He should have been going up, -but that didn't happen. He swirled like a lazy eddy. A school of things -that were caricatures of fish—big, white, revolting things—swished -over and puckered blindly into his faceplate, then went away. Otherwise -there was nothing.</p> - -<p>Regan was pretty discouraged. By this time, he'd been in a slow spin -for so long that he had no idea which way was up. He had the equipment -for getting up—there were about two hundred hours of fuel in the -rocket engine strapped to his back—but no way seemed any better than -another.</p> - -<p>He remembered that the funnel had steadily narrowed and so he tried -experimental bursts from the engine to see if he could reach one of the -sides. Eventually he got to something that wasn't water. It was a sort -of mud. Regan studied the markings on it for a possible clue. No go. -Regan was a spaceman, not an oceanographer.</p> - -<p>So, since it was better than doing nothing, Regan got himself into a -drift parallel with the mud side and switched on his rocket.</p> - -<p>He whizzed along at a good rate, staying close to the mud wall, but -not knowing whether he was going down, up or around in circles at the -same depth. After what he judged to be some hours of this, the mud -began to be streaked with a gray substance and, still farther along, it -appeared to become rock. Regan didn't know whether this was good or bad.</p> - -<p>More hours went by, apparently. Regan was wearing a watch, but it was -hidden under the heavy sleeve of his spacesuit. He dozed off, he said, -and when he snapped back into consciousness he noticed that there was -another wall, far off, opposite the one he was rocketing along.</p> - -<p>It was gray, too, as far as he could make out in the light of his -headlamp, which was weak over distances. What woke him up fully was -something that went skimming past him at a much greater rate than his -own. It was a cask, its wood brown as if from long submersion and its -hoops rusted into redness. The cask was turning lazily end over end, -but it outdistanced him and disappeared ahead as he watched. It had -been traveling out in the middle of the passage.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Regan pondered this for a while and then reasoned that there was a -swift current, swifter in the middle even than his rocket propulsion at -the side of the channel. He worked himself out toward the center, then -switched off his rocket, experimentally. By watching the rock side of -the passage, he was able to gauge that he was moving much faster.</p> - -<p>The watching, however, had a hypnotic effect on him and Regan felt -himself dozing off. He tried to fight it but reasoned finally that -there wasn't much point. So he turned off his headlamp and let himself -go to sleep.</p> - -<p>He felt weird when he woke up. He was hot and sweating. He remembered -instantly where he was. It was no comfort to him. He felt entirely -hopeless, even more so than if he'd been marooned in space. At least -there was traffic out there. Here there was just himself, with a wooden -cask up ahead and nightmarish fish somewhere behind.</p> - -<p>He also felt weak. Spacesuits come equipped with water, of course, if -they're the repair variety, and Regan drank sparingly through the tube -at the base of his faceplate. But his suit carried no rations, so he -tried to ignore his hunger.</p> - -<p>He drowsed again and switched off his headlamp. This became a -pattern for him—a semi-conscious nightmare of smooth, eerie motion, -punctuated with sips at his water supply and hopeless watching through -the faceplate, blinking away the sweat. Regan talked to himself, he -said, and sometimes sang, to keep himself sane in the silence and -loneliness. It probably helped, although some of his talk was pretty -idiotic.</p> - -<p>It was after one of his dozes—whose duration he had no way of -measuring even by his thirst and hunger, which were constant—that he -awoke to something new. Automatically he switched on his headlamp, then -switched it off again, realizing what the newness was.</p> - -<p>The passage he was being washed through was no longer dark; there was a -radiance in the water now.</p> - -<p>Regan twisted himself around to see what the light came from. Up -ahead, apparently. As it got stronger, his eyes began to ache. It was -a gorgeous ache, Regan said, and he stared ahead almost hypnotized. -He made an effort and focused on the walls of the passageway he was -being thrust along. They were white with streaks of black in them—like -marble, but without marble's glossy hardness. He could see all parts of -the tunnel now; it was roughly circular and had narrowed to a diameter -of about two hundred feet.</p> - -<p>Regan could only suppose that he was nearing the surface—that he'd -been sweeping through some U-shaped fissure—and he adjusted himself -kinesthetically to the theory that he was now traveling up instead of -down. This took a lot of doing and occupied his mind.</p> - -<p>His spirits soared with his imagined ascent and he could visualize -himself traveling faster and faster until, with a pop, he would be -thrust into the air and fall back to float on the surface. Regan wanted -most desperately to be able to look at the sky again. It would be kind -to see land, too, but a ship or a plane would do temporarily.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He was half lost in this reverie when he had to make a second -adjustment. Remember, he thought he was going up, as from the bottom of -a well. Therefore he was puzzled, as the radiance increased to daylight -strength, to see one wall of his tubular, water-filled prison darken to -deep green while the other turned a sort of blue-white-pink.</p> - -<p>He was moving in the same swift rush of current, his body positioned -so that he was facing the green half. He twisted as if to face the -opposite way in an elevator and then became giddy when the entire -concept of his surroundings did a ninety-degree flop.</p> - -<p>In that split second, Regan realized that he wasn't traveling -vertically, but horizontally.</p> - -<p>The well he had pictured himself in now took on the aspect of a river, -with the bright blend of colors the sky, and the deep green the river -bed. The banks of the river were above him. Regan gave himself a tiny -rocket assist to rise.</p> - -<p>He wasn't at all prepared for what he saw. Far away beyond the green -plain through which the river was racing was a city.</p> - -<p>Unmistakably it was a metropolis of Man, not towering or turreted, -but massive and with a relative newness which spoke of life. And as -he had this thought, he could see other, smaller dwellings closer by, -one-storied and circular, in a variety of colors.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="600" height="382" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He noted then that the level of the river was higher than that of -the land, that the marblelike banks which channeled the racing water -had become a transparent, glasslike substance which rose and curved -in a seemingly endless archway. The torrent completely filled the -half-transparent tube, flowing smoothly so that he almost had the -sensation of flying above the ground.</p> - -<p>Regan maneuvered toward the top and from there he saw the road. It -paralleled the river and ran in a straight line as far as he could see. -While he watched, a vehicle sped along it from behind, paced beside -him and then pulled ahead. The driver was only vaguely visible, but he -had a reassuringly human appearance. The man in the car, which was a -three-wheeled, boxlike affair of brilliant yellow, looked neither left -nor right.</p> - -<p>Regan yelled instinctively and waved. The cumbersome motion turned him -over on his back. Opportunistically, he studied the sky from his new -position, but could make nothing of it. There were no clouds, only the -blue-white-pink brightness that seemed to extend to infinity.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Something flashed across his field of vision. Regan caught only a -glimpse of it, then reasoned that it must have been a bridge, spanning -the enclosed river. He twisted himself around to a prone position and -tried to think constructively.</p> - -<p>Somewhere there had to be an exit to this land. For his sake, there -had to be, although of course this guaranteed nothing. But surely -these people made use of this abundant supply of water. It would be -fresh and good to drink after its long passage through the Earth, -despite its source in the salt ocean. They would use it for irrigation, -probably, and perhaps somewhere it was channeled for transportation—of -a more comfortable kind than his own. And they might use it for power. -Certainly its rushing strength would be tapped.</p> - -<p>This thought scared him. He pictured a giant hydroelectric plant into -which he would be swept and in the bowels of which his body would be -mangled by the blades of a turbine.</p> - -<p>He had to slow his mad passage. He maneuvered the equipment attached to -his spacesuit and pointed the rocket exhaust ahead of him. He flicked -on the power and felt his speed being cut. The powerful current pressed -from behind him like a live thing, but the rocket thrust was strong, -too. His progress slackened to the pace of a canoe.</p> - -<p>Balancing himself behind the makeshift braking apparatus was difficult, -both because the torrent threatened constantly to turn him end for -end, and because his strength was only a memory of itself. But somehow -Regan managed to achieve an equilibrium which allowed him to look -about and reassure himself that the city was still there. Its position -had shifted on the horizon to a point slightly behind him, but there -apparently was no end to the expanse of this underground world. The -road was there, too, still parallel to the roofed-over river.</p> - -<p>A surge of hope went through him as he spotted a man walking along the -road.</p> - -<p>Regan braked himself still further, until his speed matched that of -the man. The man's costume was a brief one—knee-length trousers, a -vestlike garment over a white skin, and sandals—so apparently the -climate was tropical.</p> - -<p>Regan stared hard at the man, mutely begging him to turn. Both Regan's -hands gripped the rocket tube; he didn't dare let go to wave. Then, as -though he had been reached telepathically, the man looked in Regan's -direction. Regan couldn't make out his expression, but apparently it -was one of disbelief. The man stopped, took an indecisive step and then -ran toward the river. He jogged alongside it and now Regan could see -his face clearly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was an intelligent face—round, broad-nosed, the eyes almond-shaped -and the hair abundant and black. The man's body was stocky and -powerful, graceful as he ran beside the tubed-in river. He waved and -smiled, and Regan hoped his own answering smile was visible behind the -faceplate of his spacesuit.</p> - -<p>Regan doubted that telepathy had anything to do with making the man -notice him originally; nevertheless, he thought furiously: "How do I -get out of here?"</p> - -<p>The response was made more to Regan's obvious predicament than because -of thought transference, he was sure; at any rate, the man pointed, -then raced ahead.</p> - -<p>Regan lost sight of him for an agonizingly long minute or two, then -saw him again, standing and pointing up. Another bridge was spanning -the river. The man gestured to it emphatically, then pointed ahead -again and held up two fingers. Alternately he pointed to the bridge and -gestured with his fingers. Regan decided that this meant there would be -some sort of help for him at the second bridge beyond. He nodded his -head vigorously.</p> - -<p>The man seemed to see the motion. He nodded and smiled.</p> - -<p>Regan cut the power of the rocket engine and let the current speed -his journey. The man outside increased his own pace, and when another -bridge swept overhead, he nodded and held up one finger. Regan trembled -with relief at this confirmation of the pantomimed message. He fought -back the weariness that had begun to creep over him again, and clung -doggedly to the rocket whose exhaust regulated his speed to that of the -running man.</p> - -<p>Regan thought the bridge would never be reached. He felt supremely -weary. He was sopping wet, his eyes kept going out of focus, his throat -ached, and his head was throbbing with jagged pains. It took all his -waning strength to cling to consciousness.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Finally the bridge was in sight; then overhead. The running man pointed -up. Beyond the bridge, the glasslike covering ended.</p> - -<p>Regan was out of the tunnel.</p> - -<p>The river widened now and its velocity eased. But the current was still -a powerful one. Regan pointed the rocket tube so that it thrust him -upward. His rubber- and steel-clothed head broke the surface. He felt a -surge of freedom.</p> - -<p>In his joy, Regan lost control of the rocket-brake and was twisted -crazily about. Instinctively he shut off the power; he was swept ahead. -As the river whirled him forward, he saw the man on the bank point -ahead to the right, wave him on and gesture that he would catch up -later.</p> - -<p>It was with relief that Regan let himself be carried forward by the -strong current. He was traveling out of the mainstream now. In a few -minutes, the river was so broad that he seemed to be barely moving, but -this was merely an illusion of contrast.</p> - -<p>Then Regan saw the mesh fence. It was a giant strainer across the -river, apparently fashioned to prevent debris from being carried into -the structure which straddled the river beyond—without doubt the -hydroelectric plant whose existence he had dreaded.</p> - -<p>Regan was swept into the fence. It gave, cushioning the shock, and he -pulled himself along it toward the bank. He reached it but lacked the -strength to pull himself onto land.</p> - -<p>Nearby, hugging the huge mesh fence, was the cask which had passed him -back in the dark of the tunnel.</p> - -<p>Just as Regan was passing out, he saw the stocky man in the knee-length -shorts come into sight, running as fast as he could make his legs pump.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When Regan came to, he found himself being carried on the back of an -open truck. He was lying there like a sack of cabbages, being bounced -around as the truck sped over a bumpy road. His undersea friend was -squatting next to him on the bed of the truck, holding onto the side to -keep from being jolted off.</p> - -<p>He smiled when he saw that Regan had regained consciousness and patted -the chest of the spacesuit. He pointed in the direction the truck was -going, but Regan was flat on his back and weak and couldn't turn to -look. The jolting was making him sick.</p> - -<p>The road became smoother and soon they entered the city. Regan said it -was the damnedest place he ever saw. Everything looked like a beehive. -He meant that literally, he said. All the buildings were circular, with -doors down at the base and no windows. They were all different sizes -and all colors. Some of the bigger ones towered up pretty high, but -just how high was hard to say. They weren't built in stories, but in -one continuous curving line from bottom to top.</p> - -<p>The truck would pass through a square or a park now and again and the -buildings in the distance looked like a mass of soap bubbles, all -pastel colors under that blue-white-pink sky. The truck stopped in -front of a big yellow beehive. Now that he was close and not being -jolted around, Regan could see that the building was constructed of a -kind of oversized bricks, about a foot square. They weren't joined with -mortar, as far as he could tell. Apparently their own weight and shape -held them together as they rose up and formed a dome. And the color was -within the bricks, not painted on.</p> - -<p>Two men, taller than his friend, came out of the building carrying a -plank. They loaded Regan onto it and carried him stretcher-fashion into -the building. The friend tagged along behind.</p> - -<p>There was a sort of anteroom inside, with a man at a desk. The bearers -stopped while the man took down a gadget that looked like a chessboard -with buttons and pushed down half a dozen of them. Then he held out -the board to Regan's friend, who pushed down some of the buttons in a -different combination. After that the little friend went away, first -patting Regan on the chest and smiling.</p> - -<p>Regan was carried into a rotunda in the center of the building. The -floor rose and took them to the top level. The bearers carried him off -to the side and he saw the floor drop down again. They took him to a -windowless room which had light radiating from the walls, and dumped -him off the plank-stretcher onto a high stone table. Regan climbed -down. He supposed they were being as gentle as possible, considering -his great weight in the spacesuit.</p> - -<p>Regan's weight also manifested itself to him. He felt the heaviness of -a person who has been buoyed up for a long time in water, but is now on -land.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>All this happened, except for the clank as he was set down, in complete -silence. He was entirely isolated from outside sound, of course.</p> - -<p>He lay there, feeling less sick but still hot and dizzy, trying to -compose his stomach. After a while, he felt calm enough to drink a -little water through the tube inside the faceplate.</p> - -<p>A rotund man wearing a kind of white tunic came into his field of -vision. Regan could see him only from the waist up. Like the friend he -had met at the river, this man had abundant black hair. But his face -was fat, with puffy cheeks and sagging jowls. He was much older. His -hands were pudgy. He waggled them in what might have been a gesture of -delight or greeting; it was hard to say which. His expression was one -of pleasure. He stood at Regan's side and smiled at him. His hands felt -over the headpiece of the spacesuit, then went thumping down the rest -of it.</p> - -<p>"I'll be out of the damn thing soon," Regan thought. But apparently it -was too much for the fellow. Regan tried to gesture to the fastening -at the back of his neck to show how it was done, but he was unable to -raise his arms. He realized then how exhausted he was.</p> - -<p>The rotund man in the tunic patted him on the chest—it seemed to be a -universal gesture—and went away.</p> - -<p>Regan felt at peace in the room. He felt that now he was going to be -taken care of and that everything, somehow, was going to be all right. -He went to sleep.</p> - -<p>He woke up ravenously hungry. He seemed to be alone in the room. His -encased body felt as heavy as the whole world. He tried to raise up -to bring his mouth to the water tube. He couldn't. He cried out in a -voice that was weak even inside the confines of his suit. No one could -possibly have heard and no one came. He tried to raise his arm. The -muscles strained and quivered. By using all his strength, he was able -to lift it a few inches above the table. Then the arm fell back on the -stone with the barest tap of sound.</p> - -<p>The jovial fat one reappeared. He was carrying a metal box with two -dials on it and wires coming from it which ended in kinds of suction -cups. He stuck one of the cups to Regan's faceplate, fastened another -one to his ear and twirled a dial.</p> - -<p>"Please get me out of this suit," Regan said.</p> - -<p>The man's face lit up with pleasure. He nodded and patted the chest of -the suit. Then he spoke.</p> - -<p>The language was a guttural, fast-paced one. Regan had never heard -anything like it.</p> - -<p>"Please," he said. "Please get me out."</p> - -<p>The man continued to smile. He beckoned and two other men appeared. -They took turns listening to Regan plead to be released. They smiled, -too, though obviously none of them understood a word. Without gestures, -it was impossible for Regan to convey his plight.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They stood around him, chattering in their outlandish tongue. Others -joined them. They all had the same look about them. Friendly, smiling -faces and hands that patted him on the chest. It became a confused -nightmare as still others streamed in, as if he were the main -attraction in a fifty-cent tour.</p> - -<p>But apparently there was method in their milling around. They measured -him from top to toe, from side to side, in circumference and in depth. -They used steel tapes and calipers and jotted down their findings in -little books or punched them out on button-studded chessboards. They -wheeled in a huge contraption which must have been a camera and clicked -it at him from every angle. They lifted his arms and legs and chattered -with excitement to see how peculiarly he bent at the joints.</p> - -<p>It was as if Regan were a new kind of animal that had swum into their -ken and which they were classifying, or which they would classify at -their leisure after they had measured it in all possible ways.</p> - -<p>They kept it up for an eternity and a half. Regan's vision got hazy, -his throat burned and his stomach ached in irregular spasms.</p> - -<p>He was barely conscious when the two bearers came back in, loaded -him on the plank and took him out into the rotunda. The throng of -scientists followed. The floor-wide elevator sank to the main level and -they all went out into the street.</p> - -<p>A big, rectangular, doorless, bus-like vehicle was standing there. The -bearers, with a great deal of effort, propped Regan up in the front -seat. His head lolled back inside the suit. The shift in position -blacked him out temporarily. He came out of a period of nausea to hear -himself saying over and over:</p> - -<p>"You open it at the back of the neck. I'd do it myself if I could move -my arms. You open it at the back of the neck."</p> - -<p>The bus was in motion. It rumbled through the streets among the pastel -beehives. In Regan's state, they were so many bouncing balloons being -pointed out by madmen in white smocks in a caricature of a vehicle -under an impossible sky.</p> - -<p>They eventually reached a kind of park or estate. Shrubs and trees were -neatly set out and a big golden beehive stood at the end of a long -drive. They took him inside, half fainting, sweating, gibbering to -himself.</p> - -<p>Through half a dozen anterooms they went, to what could only have been -a throne room. It was sumptuously hung with tapestries. There were -guards standing at post and a thick carpet led to a dais on which were -two huge chairs. A tall, slender, dark-haired man sat in one of them. -The other was empty.</p> - -<p>There was a confused kind of ceremony in which everyone got down on one -knee before the man on the throne, and a ridiculous struggle began, to -get Regan into a semblance of the same position.</p> - -<p>The king, or whatever he was, gestured, and Regan found himself being -dragged up on the dais and sat on the other throne.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="355" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Then the nightmare took a turn for the worse. From an anteroom came a -procession of women bearing gifts. They were the first women Regan had -seen in this underground world, but he was less interested in them than -in what they carried.</p> - -<p>Food.</p> - -<p>Baskets of fruit.</p> - -<p>Platters of meat.</p> - -<p>Cups of liquids.</p> - -<p>The smiling creatures curtsied before the thrones and set out the -feast in front of Regan. One of them, dressed in a single pale blue -garment belted at the waist, laid a basket of fruit in his lap.</p> - -<p>Regan began to quiver in a fever of frustration.</p> - -<p>It got worse when, at a sign from the king, everyone helped himself to -some of this or that, raised it to Regan in a kind of toast and began -to eat.</p> - -<p>If any of them noticed that Regan didn't join them, they were polite -enough not to take offense.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The feast over, everyone went for an after-dinner ride. The king went, -too, riding in a richly draped palanquin on wheels, ahead of the -squared-off bus.</p> - -<p>This was the royal tour. Points of interest were visited. Regan's -bleary eyes and uncomprehending brain half observed gardens, factories, -schools, a sporting event, a parade, a farm and dozens of examples of -the culture of the world of people who were kindly starving him to -death.</p> - -<p>In his semi-delirium, he once reproached himself for being such an -unappreciative guest and wondered what they must think of this emissary -from outside who was such a cumbersome clod. He had come to them in the -strange trappings he apparently preferred, so how could he blame them -for respecting his costume and leaving it to him to wear it or remove -it as he chose? In his own world, he wouldn't strip a visitor or skin -a stray dog.</p> - -<p>A bump in the road and the shudder it gave the bus jolted his eyes -fully open. Ahead was the hydroelectric plant spanning the river. They -were going to show the king where Regan had come from.</p> - -<p>The procession pulled over to the bank next to the mesh fence which -screened debris from the water flowing into the plant. On the bank -lay his mobility unit, which apparently had been detached before they -trucked him into the city originally. The king got out of his palanquin -and examined it curiously. Then he got back in and they drove along the -bank to the other side of the hydroelectric plant. The river continued -its swift passage, apparently unslowed by the drain on it.</p> - -<p>Regan thought the river looked tremendously inviting. In its depths, -he could be free of the well-meaning crowd of sightseeing guides. The -river represented peace, an end to being shown around, measured, -observed, exhibited and tantalized. In it, he could die calmly, without -any frustrating diplomacy.</p> - -<p>A bridge spanned the river below the plant. By the gestures of the -scientists, he gathered that they were going to cross over to see -interesting things which lay across the river. The bridge was a narrow -wooden one. Parallel to it was the stone framework of an unfinished -replacement. They proceeded slowly over the rickety, railless bridge.</p> - -<p>The approach to it was banked, so that Regan was tilted in his seat, -toward the outside. The bus leveled off as it reached the wooden -planking and Regan tilted the other way. A loose plank under a wheel -sent him swaying back again. With all his remaining strength, he leaned -with the tilt. It was just enough to send him off balance.</p> - -<p>They reached out to pull him back, but it was too late. He was out of -the bus and dropping the short distance to the water.</p> - -<p>The current was so swift that he went only a little way under, then -bobbed up and was rushed along, turning over and over. As he revolved, -he caught glimpses of consternation on the bridge. He saw the bus back -off and race along the road on the bank, hands waving out of it. But it -couldn't catch up with him. He was moving too fast.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="600" height="284" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The even motion of the river was soothing. Regan took a swallow from -his tube and relaxed. There was a dull ache in his stomach, but no more -stabbing spasms. Maybe he was dying. He didn't care.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Regan knew he was in a hospital even before he opened his eyes. The -ether-and-disinfectant smell told him that.</p> - -<p>It was taking an effort to thrust his eyelids up. He moved his arms -and felt them close to his body. He raised one hand to his face and -rubbed his closed eyes. Of course they'd have got him out of the -spacesuit.</p> - -<p>He opened his eyes.</p> - -<p>A brown-faced man was leaning over the bed. He was wearing a white -smock and had a fountain pen in the breast pocket. Beyond the man—the -doctor—there was a window. A perfectly ordinary window, through which -Regan could see the sky. A blue sky with white clouds in it.</p> - -<p>The doctor smiled at Regan and said in English: "How do you feel, son?"</p> - -<p>Regan tried to speak but couldn't.</p> - -<p>"This is Bombay," the doctor said. "Bombay, in India. It must be quite -a surprise to you, but I'm glad to say you'll be all right."</p> - -<p>"What?" Regan asked vaguely.</p> - -<p>"It's strange, of course," said the doctor. "You should be on the other -side of the world, by all that's natural. We communicated with the -American authorities when we saw your identification. It is extremely -odd. Still, here you are, and you will be well. Quite soon, too."</p> - -<p>"But—" Regan began. Then he gave up. He said nothing more until after -he'd eaten and slept and the doctor asked him if he felt strong enough -now to see the reporters.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Two more, sir?" the bartender at the Palmer House asked.</p> - -<p>I nodded.</p> - -<p>"Naturally they thought I was delirious," Regan said, "or had been. -They had to accept the fact that I'd been through the Earth. Not -through the center of it, or anywhere near it—they tell me that's -practically solid nickel, or molten, or whatever. But there was no -disputing that I'd gone down in the Atlantic and come up in the Indian -Ocean. They'd seen me go down and they'd seen me come up and obviously -I'd been somewhere in the interval. I hadn't walked, that was for sure.</p> - -<p>"They credited my story of the underground river. The Greeks had a word -for it, they tell me. The Greeks thought the Alpheus River wandered -down under the Adriatic and came up in Sicily. I don't know much about -their river, but mine apparently follows the Earth's curve maybe a -dozen miles below the surface.</p> - -<p>"But nobody wanted any part of my story of the city and the king and -the beehive houses and the rectangular bus. Delirium, they said. Oh, -they were kind about it, but they said it. So did the geophysical boys -upstairs, in their eight-syllabled way."</p> - -<p>The bartender brought fresh highballs, but Regan still held the glass -the old drink had been in. He put it on its side on the bar and stared -at the open end. I got the image—a tunnel filled with rushing water, a -tunnel under the world.</p> - -<p>Regan almost echoed my thoughts.</p> - -<p>"Tunnel under the Antarctic," he said half to himself. "That's where it -must have been, that city. Down there, deep under the ice. Used to be -tropics, you know."</p> - -<p>"The Antarctic?" I said.</p> - -<p>"Before the ice came, before the Earth's axis shifted. Those -people—they didn't evacuate, I guess. They went underground. Funny -they should have built themselves houses the same shape as those of the -Eskimos who stayed above-ground in the North—like igloos. But probably -that's just coincidence. You don't find igloos in the tropics. I'd -guess their beehive houses are naturally influenced by the cavern they -live in—their little universe."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Regan looked up. He grinned and set the empty glass upright on the -bar. "I've had a lot of time to think about it. They're awfully nice -people, all of them. I could have had a wonderful time if I'd been -able to climb out of that damn spacesuit. In time, I could even have -communicated with them passably well. Good-looking women, too."</p> - -<p>He looked at me speculatively. He opened his mouth as if to speak -again, then smiled and shook his head.</p> - -<p>I said it for him: "You're going back."</p> - -<p>"Yes," he answered. "Yes, I'm going back. I know the coordinates of the -entrance to the passageway and its dimensions and the kind of equipment -I'll need. Nothing elaborate. In another year or so, I'll have enough -saved up, I think. Get myself a little space launch; one of the smaller -ones, lifeboat size. Fit it out with food and water—and some picture -books, of course, to show them what it's like where I come from. I'd -take somebody along with me if I could find anyone who wanted to -go—and who believed me."</p> - -<p>"I believe you," I said. "But—"</p> - -<p>"Sure. You'd be crazy to go. Wife and kids. I've got none of that. -Mostly what I want to do, I guess, is prove those longbeards upstairs -are cockeyed."</p> - -<p>"I hope you do. Maybe you'll let me write about it when you get back."</p> - -<p>"It'll be a good story," Regan assured me.</p> - -<p>"I'll be waiting for it," I promised.</p> - -<p>That was five years ago. Four years ago, Regan went, as he said he -would. He went alone, in a little space launch.</p> - -<p>I'm still waiting to write the end of the story.</p> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Traveling Companion Wanted, by Richard Wilson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRAVELING COMPANION WANTED *** - -***** This file should be named 51759-h.htm or 51759-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/7/5/51759/ - -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: Traveling Companion Wanted - -Author: Richard Wilson - -Release Date: April 14, 2016 [EBook #51759] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRAVELING COMPANION WANTED *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - Traveling Companion Wanted - - By Richard Wilson - - Illustrated by DILLON - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Magazine June 1959. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - To share exps., relieve at wheel--must be - able drive under grt. pressure--in return - transp. doz. mi. or so under ocean bottom! - - -You remember Regan. He's the man who fell overboard in a spacesuit and -found that there really is a passage to India. It winds down from the -Champion Deep in the Atlantic and comes out somewhere off Bombay. It -took Regan a week to pop in one end of that underworld river and emerge -at the other. He was delirious when he bobbed to the surface and was -picked up by the Chinese motorship. Starved, of course; had to spend a -long time in the hospital after he'd been transferred to shore. - -The newspapers and radio and television made quite a thing of it. -Reporters managed to interview Regan while he was still weak and maybe -talking a little crazy. They got together afterward and agreed among -themselves on what parts to leave out. Then Regan sold the first-person -rights to a syndicate. He insisted on writing the installments himself, -but a lot was edited out while the staff writer was re-doing it. - -I didn't hear Regan's unpublished story till I met him in the bar at -the Palmer House in Chicago. He'd been attending a geophysical meeting -that I'd had to cover and we'd both got bored with it about the same -time. I thought I recognized him from his pictures and said so. Regan -seemed glad to have a non-longhair to talk to, and he talked. - -You know why Regan had been wearing a spacesuit in the first place; -he'd become something of a hero on the return trip of one of the -Earth-Mars hops after a meteor struck. Regan went out through the -airlock to make repairs. It was his job as chief of maintenance. -Patched up the hole and went back in. Routine, he said. - -But the skipper messaged a report to Earth, and when the spaceship -reached the way station to take on landing fuel, the press was waiting -for it. The photographers were along and they wanted Regan to re-enact -the repair scene. He didn't want to, but the skipper insisted because -it would be good public relations. So Regan climbed into the spacesuit -again and took along his mobile repair gear and tinkered away on the -hull while the photogs snapped away from a patrol boat. - -That was when the repair unit went out of whack. - - * * * * * - -Its mobility factor wasn't supposed to do anything more than move him -around on the hull to wherever he had to go. He'd worked with it a -hundred times in test sessions and once in reality and it'd always been -a lamb. But this time it went all screwy and shoved him off the hull. -In some way one of the conduits wrapped itself around his arms like an -octopus, pinning them so he couldn't reach the controls. And in some -other way the tiny rocket engine zipped over to full power and plunged -him down toward Earth. - -If it had headed him out toward space, it would have been all right. -The patrol boat could have overtaken him in a few hours at most and -hauled him aboard. But Regan was heading Earthward and soon he was down -where the traffic's pretty congested. The patrol boat made some valiant -efforts, but after a couple of near misses with transcontinental -rockets, it gave up. Better to lose one person than a couple of hundred. - -Radio messages were sent to low-flying craft and ships at sea. These -didn't do any good, except that a trawler was able to spot the position -where Regan, in his spacesuit, smacked the water and went under. The -trawler didn't have a radio transmitter. It waited a while, and when -nothing came up, it put about for land. A day later, the spot where -Regan had gone down was alive with would-be rescue ships, submarines -and diving equipment. - -But Regan never came up--not in that ocean, at any rate. - -I knew this story pretty well, so Regan didn't elaborate on it. He'd -blacked out, anyway, soon after he hit the atmosphere and didn't come -to till he was close to smacking the surface. That's when it began to -get interesting. - -You've seen enough undersea movies to know what the ocean is like, so -we won't go into that. This is what happened when Regan got down to -what should have been the bottom: - -There was a big crater there, with the bottom stretching away in all -directions from the cavity--but the hole itself kept going down. -Funnel-shaped, Regan said. He could see it quite clearly because he was -plunging into it head down. The tentacles of the conduit were still -wrapped around his arms and the mobility gadget's rocket was naturally -working almost as well under water as it had in space. - -After a while, it got dark, with Regan still zipping along into the -depths of the funnel. He'd long since passed the stage of being merely -worried; now he was scared. By this time, it was entirely black, but -Regan could sense that he was being carried along swiftly. - - * * * * * - -Not because he thought it would do any good, but because he had to do -something, Regan experimented with his feet. He found that after some -back-stretching calisthenics he was able to bring his right boot up -near his waist. Maneuvering it with total disregard for his sacroiliac, -Regan managed to hook the boot under one of the coils the conduit had -made around him. Gradually he was able to loosen it enough to give -his left arm some play and from there it was relatively simple. He -switched off the rocket engine, switched on his headlamp and looked -around. - -Regan said it was quite a sight, in a reverse sort of way. Nothing -anywhere. With the rocket turned off, he kind of floated around -aimlessly, going nowhere in particular. He should have been going up, -but that didn't happen. He swirled like a lazy eddy. A school of things -that were caricatures of fish--big, white, revolting things--swished -over and puckered blindly into his faceplate, then went away. Otherwise -there was nothing. - -Regan was pretty discouraged. By this time, he'd been in a slow spin -for so long that he had no idea which way was up. He had the equipment -for getting up--there were about two hundred hours of fuel in the -rocket engine strapped to his back--but no way seemed any better than -another. - -He remembered that the funnel had steadily narrowed and so he tried -experimental bursts from the engine to see if he could reach one of the -sides. Eventually he got to something that wasn't water. It was a sort -of mud. Regan studied the markings on it for a possible clue. No go. -Regan was a spaceman, not an oceanographer. - -So, since it was better than doing nothing, Regan got himself into a -drift parallel with the mud side and switched on his rocket. - -He whizzed along at a good rate, staying close to the mud wall, but -not knowing whether he was going down, up or around in circles at the -same depth. After what he judged to be some hours of this, the mud -began to be streaked with a gray substance and, still farther along, it -appeared to become rock. Regan didn't know whether this was good or bad. - -More hours went by, apparently. Regan was wearing a watch, but it was -hidden under the heavy sleeve of his spacesuit. He dozed off, he said, -and when he snapped back into consciousness he noticed that there was -another wall, far off, opposite the one he was rocketing along. - -It was gray, too, as far as he could make out in the light of his -headlamp, which was weak over distances. What woke him up fully was -something that went skimming past him at a much greater rate than his -own. It was a cask, its wood brown as if from long submersion and its -hoops rusted into redness. The cask was turning lazily end over end, -but it outdistanced him and disappeared ahead as he watched. It had -been traveling out in the middle of the passage. - - * * * * * - -Regan pondered this for a while and then reasoned that there was a -swift current, swifter in the middle even than his rocket propulsion at -the side of the channel. He worked himself out toward the center, then -switched off his rocket, experimentally. By watching the rock side of -the passage, he was able to gauge that he was moving much faster. - -The watching, however, had a hypnotic effect on him and Regan felt -himself dozing off. He tried to fight it but reasoned finally that -there wasn't much point. So he turned off his headlamp and let himself -go to sleep. - -He felt weird when he woke up. He was hot and sweating. He remembered -instantly where he was. It was no comfort to him. He felt entirely -hopeless, even more so than if he'd been marooned in space. At least -there was traffic out there. Here there was just himself, with a wooden -cask up ahead and nightmarish fish somewhere behind. - -He also felt weak. Spacesuits come equipped with water, of course, if -they're the repair variety, and Regan drank sparingly through the tube -at the base of his faceplate. But his suit carried no rations, so he -tried to ignore his hunger. - -He drowsed again and switched off his headlamp. This became a -pattern for him--a semi-conscious nightmare of smooth, eerie motion, -punctuated with sips at his water supply and hopeless watching through -the faceplate, blinking away the sweat. Regan talked to himself, he -said, and sometimes sang, to keep himself sane in the silence and -loneliness. It probably helped, although some of his talk was pretty -idiotic. - -It was after one of his dozes--whose duration he had no way of -measuring even by his thirst and hunger, which were constant--that he -awoke to something new. Automatically he switched on his headlamp, then -switched it off again, realizing what the newness was. - -The passage he was being washed through was no longer dark; there was a -radiance in the water now. - -Regan twisted himself around to see what the light came from. Up -ahead, apparently. As it got stronger, his eyes began to ache. It was -a gorgeous ache, Regan said, and he stared ahead almost hypnotized. -He made an effort and focused on the walls of the passageway he was -being thrust along. They were white with streaks of black in them--like -marble, but without marble's glossy hardness. He could see all parts of -the tunnel now; it was roughly circular and had narrowed to a diameter -of about two hundred feet. - -Regan could only suppose that he was nearing the surface--that he'd -been sweeping through some U-shaped fissure--and he adjusted himself -kinesthetically to the theory that he was now traveling up instead of -down. This took a lot of doing and occupied his mind. - -His spirits soared with his imagined ascent and he could visualize -himself traveling faster and faster until, with a pop, he would be -thrust into the air and fall back to float on the surface. Regan wanted -most desperately to be able to look at the sky again. It would be kind -to see land, too, but a ship or a plane would do temporarily. - - * * * * * - -He was half lost in this reverie when he had to make a second -adjustment. Remember, he thought he was going up, as from the bottom of -a well. Therefore he was puzzled, as the radiance increased to daylight -strength, to see one wall of his tubular, water-filled prison darken to -deep green while the other turned a sort of blue-white-pink. - -He was moving in the same swift rush of current, his body positioned -so that he was facing the green half. He twisted as if to face the -opposite way in an elevator and then became giddy when the entire -concept of his surroundings did a ninety-degree flop. - -In that split second, Regan realized that he wasn't traveling -vertically, but horizontally. - -The well he had pictured himself in now took on the aspect of a river, -with the bright blend of colors the sky, and the deep green the river -bed. The banks of the river were above him. Regan gave himself a tiny -rocket assist to rise. - -He wasn't at all prepared for what he saw. Far away beyond the green -plain through which the river was racing was a city. - -Unmistakably it was a metropolis of Man, not towering or turreted, -but massive and with a relative newness which spoke of life. And as -he had this thought, he could see other, smaller dwellings closer by, -one-storied and circular, in a variety of colors. - -He noted then that the level of the river was higher than that of -the land, that the marblelike banks which channeled the racing water -had become a transparent, glasslike substance which rose and curved -in a seemingly endless archway. The torrent completely filled the -half-transparent tube, flowing smoothly so that he almost had the -sensation of flying above the ground. - -Regan maneuvered toward the top and from there he saw the road. It -paralleled the river and ran in a straight line as far as he could see. -While he watched, a vehicle sped along it from behind, paced beside -him and then pulled ahead. The driver was only vaguely visible, but he -had a reassuringly human appearance. The man in the car, which was a -three-wheeled, boxlike affair of brilliant yellow, looked neither left -nor right. - -Regan yelled instinctively and waved. The cumbersome motion turned him -over on his back. Opportunistically, he studied the sky from his new -position, but could make nothing of it. There were no clouds, only the -blue-white-pink brightness that seemed to extend to infinity. - - * * * * * - -Something flashed across his field of vision. Regan caught only a -glimpse of it, then reasoned that it must have been a bridge, spanning -the enclosed river. He twisted himself around to a prone position and -tried to think constructively. - -Somewhere there had to be an exit to this land. For his sake, there -had to be, although of course this guaranteed nothing. But surely -these people made use of this abundant supply of water. It would be -fresh and good to drink after its long passage through the Earth, -despite its source in the salt ocean. They would use it for irrigation, -probably, and perhaps somewhere it was channeled for transportation--of -a more comfortable kind than his own. And they might use it for power. -Certainly its rushing strength would be tapped. - -This thought scared him. He pictured a giant hydroelectric plant into -which he would be swept and in the bowels of which his body would be -mangled by the blades of a turbine. - -He had to slow his mad passage. He maneuvered the equipment attached to -his spacesuit and pointed the rocket exhaust ahead of him. He flicked -on the power and felt his speed being cut. The powerful current pressed -from behind him like a live thing, but the rocket thrust was strong, -too. His progress slackened to the pace of a canoe. - -Balancing himself behind the makeshift braking apparatus was difficult, -both because the torrent threatened constantly to turn him end for -end, and because his strength was only a memory of itself. But somehow -Regan managed to achieve an equilibrium which allowed him to look -about and reassure himself that the city was still there. Its position -had shifted on the horizon to a point slightly behind him, but there -apparently was no end to the expanse of this underground world. The -road was there, too, still parallel to the roofed-over river. - -A surge of hope went through him as he spotted a man walking along the -road. - -Regan braked himself still further, until his speed matched that of -the man. The man's costume was a brief one--knee-length trousers, a -vestlike garment over a white skin, and sandals--so apparently the -climate was tropical. - -Regan stared hard at the man, mutely begging him to turn. Both Regan's -hands gripped the rocket tube; he didn't dare let go to wave. Then, as -though he had been reached telepathically, the man looked in Regan's -direction. Regan couldn't make out his expression, but apparently it -was one of disbelief. The man stopped, took an indecisive step and then -ran toward the river. He jogged alongside it and now Regan could see -his face clearly. - - * * * * * - -It was an intelligent face--round, broad-nosed, the eyes almond-shaped -and the hair abundant and black. The man's body was stocky and -powerful, graceful as he ran beside the tubed-in river. He waved and -smiled, and Regan hoped his own answering smile was visible behind the -faceplate of his spacesuit. - -Regan doubted that telepathy had anything to do with making the man -notice him originally; nevertheless, he thought furiously: "How do I -get out of here?" - -The response was made more to Regan's obvious predicament than because -of thought transference, he was sure; at any rate, the man pointed, -then raced ahead. - -Regan lost sight of him for an agonizingly long minute or two, then -saw him again, standing and pointing up. Another bridge was spanning -the river. The man gestured to it emphatically, then pointed ahead -again and held up two fingers. Alternately he pointed to the bridge and -gestured with his fingers. Regan decided that this meant there would be -some sort of help for him at the second bridge beyond. He nodded his -head vigorously. - -The man seemed to see the motion. He nodded and smiled. - -Regan cut the power of the rocket engine and let the current speed -his journey. The man outside increased his own pace, and when another -bridge swept overhead, he nodded and held up one finger. Regan trembled -with relief at this confirmation of the pantomimed message. He fought -back the weariness that had begun to creep over him again, and clung -doggedly to the rocket whose exhaust regulated his speed to that of the -running man. - -Regan thought the bridge would never be reached. He felt supremely -weary. He was sopping wet, his eyes kept going out of focus, his throat -ached, and his head was throbbing with jagged pains. It took all his -waning strength to cling to consciousness. - - * * * * * - -Finally the bridge was in sight; then overhead. The running man pointed -up. Beyond the bridge, the glasslike covering ended. - -Regan was out of the tunnel. - -The river widened now and its velocity eased. But the current was still -a powerful one. Regan pointed the rocket tube so that it thrust him -upward. His rubber- and steel-clothed head broke the surface. He felt a -surge of freedom. - -In his joy, Regan lost control of the rocket-brake and was twisted -crazily about. Instinctively he shut off the power; he was swept ahead. -As the river whirled him forward, he saw the man on the bank point -ahead to the right, wave him on and gesture that he would catch up -later. - -It was with relief that Regan let himself be carried forward by the -strong current. He was traveling out of the mainstream now. In a few -minutes, the river was so broad that he seemed to be barely moving, but -this was merely an illusion of contrast. - -Then Regan saw the mesh fence. It was a giant strainer across the -river, apparently fashioned to prevent debris from being carried into -the structure which straddled the river beyond--without doubt the -hydroelectric plant whose existence he had dreaded. - -Regan was swept into the fence. It gave, cushioning the shock, and he -pulled himself along it toward the bank. He reached it but lacked the -strength to pull himself onto land. - -Nearby, hugging the huge mesh fence, was the cask which had passed him -back in the dark of the tunnel. - -Just as Regan was passing out, he saw the stocky man in the knee-length -shorts come into sight, running as fast as he could make his legs pump. - - * * * * * - -When Regan came to, he found himself being carried on the back of an -open truck. He was lying there like a sack of cabbages, being bounced -around as the truck sped over a bumpy road. His undersea friend was -squatting next to him on the bed of the truck, holding onto the side to -keep from being jolted off. - -He smiled when he saw that Regan had regained consciousness and patted -the chest of the spacesuit. He pointed in the direction the truck was -going, but Regan was flat on his back and weak and couldn't turn to -look. The jolting was making him sick. - -The road became smoother and soon they entered the city. Regan said it -was the damnedest place he ever saw. Everything looked like a beehive. -He meant that literally, he said. All the buildings were circular, with -doors down at the base and no windows. They were all different sizes -and all colors. Some of the bigger ones towered up pretty high, but -just how high was hard to say. They weren't built in stories, but in -one continuous curving line from bottom to top. - -The truck would pass through a square or a park now and again and the -buildings in the distance looked like a mass of soap bubbles, all -pastel colors under that blue-white-pink sky. The truck stopped in -front of a big yellow beehive. Now that he was close and not being -jolted around, Regan could see that the building was constructed of a -kind of oversized bricks, about a foot square. They weren't joined with -mortar, as far as he could tell. Apparently their own weight and shape -held them together as they rose up and formed a dome. And the color was -within the bricks, not painted on. - -Two men, taller than his friend, came out of the building carrying a -plank. They loaded Regan onto it and carried him stretcher-fashion into -the building. The friend tagged along behind. - -There was a sort of anteroom inside, with a man at a desk. The bearers -stopped while the man took down a gadget that looked like a chessboard -with buttons and pushed down half a dozen of them. Then he held out -the board to Regan's friend, who pushed down some of the buttons in a -different combination. After that the little friend went away, first -patting Regan on the chest and smiling. - -Regan was carried into a rotunda in the center of the building. The -floor rose and took them to the top level. The bearers carried him off -to the side and he saw the floor drop down again. They took him to a -windowless room which had light radiating from the walls, and dumped -him off the plank-stretcher onto a high stone table. Regan climbed -down. He supposed they were being as gentle as possible, considering -his great weight in the spacesuit. - -Regan's weight also manifested itself to him. He felt the heaviness of -a person who has been buoyed up for a long time in water, but is now on -land. - - * * * * * - -All this happened, except for the clank as he was set down, in complete -silence. He was entirely isolated from outside sound, of course. - -He lay there, feeling less sick but still hot and dizzy, trying to -compose his stomach. After a while, he felt calm enough to drink a -little water through the tube inside the faceplate. - -A rotund man wearing a kind of white tunic came into his field of -vision. Regan could see him only from the waist up. Like the friend he -had met at the river, this man had abundant black hair. But his face -was fat, with puffy cheeks and sagging jowls. He was much older. His -hands were pudgy. He waggled them in what might have been a gesture of -delight or greeting; it was hard to say which. His expression was one -of pleasure. He stood at Regan's side and smiled at him. His hands felt -over the headpiece of the spacesuit, then went thumping down the rest -of it. - -"I'll be out of the damn thing soon," Regan thought. But apparently it -was too much for the fellow. Regan tried to gesture to the fastening -at the back of his neck to show how it was done, but he was unable to -raise his arms. He realized then how exhausted he was. - -The rotund man in the tunic patted him on the chest--it seemed to be a -universal gesture--and went away. - -Regan felt at peace in the room. He felt that now he was going to be -taken care of and that everything, somehow, was going to be all right. -He went to sleep. - -He woke up ravenously hungry. He seemed to be alone in the room. His -encased body felt as heavy as the whole world. He tried to raise up -to bring his mouth to the water tube. He couldn't. He cried out in a -voice that was weak even inside the confines of his suit. No one could -possibly have heard and no one came. He tried to raise his arm. The -muscles strained and quivered. By using all his strength, he was able -to lift it a few inches above the table. Then the arm fell back on the -stone with the barest tap of sound. - -The jovial fat one reappeared. He was carrying a metal box with two -dials on it and wires coming from it which ended in kinds of suction -cups. He stuck one of the cups to Regan's faceplate, fastened another -one to his ear and twirled a dial. - -"Please get me out of this suit," Regan said. - -The man's face lit up with pleasure. He nodded and patted the chest of -the suit. Then he spoke. - -The language was a guttural, fast-paced one. Regan had never heard -anything like it. - -"Please," he said. "Please get me out." - -The man continued to smile. He beckoned and two other men appeared. -They took turns listening to Regan plead to be released. They smiled, -too, though obviously none of them understood a word. Without gestures, -it was impossible for Regan to convey his plight. - - * * * * * - -They stood around him, chattering in their outlandish tongue. Others -joined them. They all had the same look about them. Friendly, smiling -faces and hands that patted him on the chest. It became a confused -nightmare as still others streamed in, as if he were the main -attraction in a fifty-cent tour. - -But apparently there was method in their milling around. They measured -him from top to toe, from side to side, in circumference and in depth. -They used steel tapes and calipers and jotted down their findings in -little books or punched them out on button-studded chessboards. They -wheeled in a huge contraption which must have been a camera and clicked -it at him from every angle. They lifted his arms and legs and chattered -with excitement to see how peculiarly he bent at the joints. - -It was as if Regan were a new kind of animal that had swum into their -ken and which they were classifying, or which they would classify at -their leisure after they had measured it in all possible ways. - -They kept it up for an eternity and a half. Regan's vision got hazy, -his throat burned and his stomach ached in irregular spasms. - -He was barely conscious when the two bearers came back in, loaded -him on the plank and took him out into the rotunda. The throng of -scientists followed. The floor-wide elevator sank to the main level and -they all went out into the street. - -A big, rectangular, doorless, bus-like vehicle was standing there. The -bearers, with a great deal of effort, propped Regan up in the front -seat. His head lolled back inside the suit. The shift in position -blacked him out temporarily. He came out of a period of nausea to hear -himself saying over and over: - -"You open it at the back of the neck. I'd do it myself if I could move -my arms. You open it at the back of the neck." - -The bus was in motion. It rumbled through the streets among the pastel -beehives. In Regan's state, they were so many bouncing balloons being -pointed out by madmen in white smocks in a caricature of a vehicle -under an impossible sky. - -They eventually reached a kind of park or estate. Shrubs and trees were -neatly set out and a big golden beehive stood at the end of a long -drive. They took him inside, half fainting, sweating, gibbering to -himself. - -Through half a dozen anterooms they went, to what could only have been -a throne room. It was sumptuously hung with tapestries. There were -guards standing at post and a thick carpet led to a dais on which were -two huge chairs. A tall, slender, dark-haired man sat in one of them. -The other was empty. - -There was a confused kind of ceremony in which everyone got down on one -knee before the man on the throne, and a ridiculous struggle began, to -get Regan into a semblance of the same position. - -The king, or whatever he was, gestured, and Regan found himself being -dragged up on the dais and sat on the other throne. - -Then the nightmare took a turn for the worse. From an anteroom came a -procession of women bearing gifts. They were the first women Regan had -seen in this underground world, but he was less interested in them than -in what they carried. - -Food. - -Baskets of fruit. - -Platters of meat. - -Cups of liquids. - -The smiling creatures curtsied before the thrones and set out the -feast in front of Regan. One of them, dressed in a single pale blue -garment belted at the waist, laid a basket of fruit in his lap. - -Regan began to quiver in a fever of frustration. - -It got worse when, at a sign from the king, everyone helped himself to -some of this or that, raised it to Regan in a kind of toast and began -to eat. - -If any of them noticed that Regan didn't join them, they were polite -enough not to take offense. - - * * * * * - -The feast over, everyone went for an after-dinner ride. The king went, -too, riding in a richly draped palanquin on wheels, ahead of the -squared-off bus. - -This was the royal tour. Points of interest were visited. Regan's -bleary eyes and uncomprehending brain half observed gardens, factories, -schools, a sporting event, a parade, a farm and dozens of examples of -the culture of the world of people who were kindly starving him to -death. - -In his semi-delirium, he once reproached himself for being such an -unappreciative guest and wondered what they must think of this emissary -from outside who was such a cumbersome clod. He had come to them in the -strange trappings he apparently preferred, so how could he blame them -for respecting his costume and leaving it to him to wear it or remove -it as he chose? In his own world, he wouldn't strip a visitor or skin -a stray dog. - -A bump in the road and the shudder it gave the bus jolted his eyes -fully open. Ahead was the hydroelectric plant spanning the river. They -were going to show the king where Regan had come from. - -The procession pulled over to the bank next to the mesh fence which -screened debris from the water flowing into the plant. On the bank -lay his mobility unit, which apparently had been detached before they -trucked him into the city originally. The king got out of his palanquin -and examined it curiously. Then he got back in and they drove along the -bank to the other side of the hydroelectric plant. The river continued -its swift passage, apparently unslowed by the drain on it. - -Regan thought the river looked tremendously inviting. In its depths, -he could be free of the well-meaning crowd of sightseeing guides. The -river represented peace, an end to being shown around, measured, -observed, exhibited and tantalized. In it, he could die calmly, without -any frustrating diplomacy. - -A bridge spanned the river below the plant. By the gestures of the -scientists, he gathered that they were going to cross over to see -interesting things which lay across the river. The bridge was a narrow -wooden one. Parallel to it was the stone framework of an unfinished -replacement. They proceeded slowly over the rickety, railless bridge. - -The approach to it was banked, so that Regan was tilted in his seat, -toward the outside. The bus leveled off as it reached the wooden -planking and Regan tilted the other way. A loose plank under a wheel -sent him swaying back again. With all his remaining strength, he leaned -with the tilt. It was just enough to send him off balance. - -They reached out to pull him back, but it was too late. He was out of -the bus and dropping the short distance to the water. - -The current was so swift that he went only a little way under, then -bobbed up and was rushed along, turning over and over. As he revolved, -he caught glimpses of consternation on the bridge. He saw the bus back -off and race along the road on the bank, hands waving out of it. But it -couldn't catch up with him. He was moving too fast. - -The even motion of the river was soothing. Regan took a swallow from -his tube and relaxed. There was a dull ache in his stomach, but no more -stabbing spasms. Maybe he was dying. He didn't care. - - * * * * * - -Regan knew he was in a hospital even before he opened his eyes. The -ether-and-disinfectant smell told him that. - -It was taking an effort to thrust his eyelids up. He moved his arms -and felt them close to his body. He raised one hand to his face and -rubbed his closed eyes. Of course they'd have got him out of the -spacesuit. - -He opened his eyes. - -A brown-faced man was leaning over the bed. He was wearing a white -smock and had a fountain pen in the breast pocket. Beyond the man--the -doctor--there was a window. A perfectly ordinary window, through which -Regan could see the sky. A blue sky with white clouds in it. - -The doctor smiled at Regan and said in English: "How do you feel, son?" - -Regan tried to speak but couldn't. - -"This is Bombay," the doctor said. "Bombay, in India. It must be quite -a surprise to you, but I'm glad to say you'll be all right." - -"What?" Regan asked vaguely. - -"It's strange, of course," said the doctor. "You should be on the other -side of the world, by all that's natural. We communicated with the -American authorities when we saw your identification. It is extremely -odd. Still, here you are, and you will be well. Quite soon, too." - -"But--" Regan began. Then he gave up. He said nothing more until after -he'd eaten and slept and the doctor asked him if he felt strong enough -now to see the reporters. - - * * * * * - -"Two more, sir?" the bartender at the Palmer House asked. - -I nodded. - -"Naturally they thought I was delirious," Regan said, "or had been. -They had to accept the fact that I'd been through the Earth. Not -through the center of it, or anywhere near it--they tell me that's -practically solid nickel, or molten, or whatever. But there was no -disputing that I'd gone down in the Atlantic and come up in the Indian -Ocean. They'd seen me go down and they'd seen me come up and obviously -I'd been somewhere in the interval. I hadn't walked, that was for sure. - -"They credited my story of the underground river. The Greeks had a word -for it, they tell me. The Greeks thought the Alpheus River wandered -down under the Adriatic and came up in Sicily. I don't know much about -their river, but mine apparently follows the Earth's curve maybe a -dozen miles below the surface. - -"But nobody wanted any part of my story of the city and the king and -the beehive houses and the rectangular bus. Delirium, they said. Oh, -they were kind about it, but they said it. So did the geophysical boys -upstairs, in their eight-syllabled way." - -The bartender brought fresh highballs, but Regan still held the glass -the old drink had been in. He put it on its side on the bar and stared -at the open end. I got the image--a tunnel filled with rushing water, a -tunnel under the world. - -Regan almost echoed my thoughts. - -"Tunnel under the Antarctic," he said half to himself. "That's where it -must have been, that city. Down there, deep under the ice. Used to be -tropics, you know." - -"The Antarctic?" I said. - -"Before the ice came, before the Earth's axis shifted. Those -people--they didn't evacuate, I guess. They went underground. Funny -they should have built themselves houses the same shape as those of the -Eskimos who stayed above-ground in the North--like igloos. But probably -that's just coincidence. You don't find igloos in the tropics. I'd -guess their beehive houses are naturally influenced by the cavern they -live in--their little universe." - - * * * * * - -Regan looked up. He grinned and set the empty glass upright on the -bar. "I've had a lot of time to think about it. They're awfully nice -people, all of them. I could have had a wonderful time if I'd been -able to climb out of that damn spacesuit. In time, I could even have -communicated with them passably well. Good-looking women, too." - -He looked at me speculatively. He opened his mouth as if to speak -again, then smiled and shook his head. - -I said it for him: "You're going back." - -"Yes," he answered. "Yes, I'm going back. I know the coordinates of the -entrance to the passageway and its dimensions and the kind of equipment -I'll need. Nothing elaborate. In another year or so, I'll have enough -saved up, I think. Get myself a little space launch; one of the smaller -ones, lifeboat size. Fit it out with food and water--and some picture -books, of course, to show them what it's like where I come from. I'd -take somebody along with me if I could find anyone who wanted to -go--and who believed me." - -"I believe you," I said. "But--" - -"Sure. You'd be crazy to go. Wife and kids. I've got none of that. -Mostly what I want to do, I guess, is prove those longbeards upstairs -are cockeyed." - -"I hope you do. Maybe you'll let me write about it when you get back." - -"It'll be a good story," Regan assured me. - -"I'll be waiting for it," I promised. - -That was five years ago. Four years ago, Regan went, as he said he -would. He went alone, in a little space launch. - -I'm still waiting to write the end of the story. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Traveling Companion Wanted, by Richard Wilson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRAVELING COMPANION WANTED *** - -***** This file should be named 51759.txt or 51759.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/7/5/51759/ - -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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