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+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #63867 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63867)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Captain Midas, by Alfred Coppel
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this ebook.
-
-Title: Captain Midas
-
-Author: Alfred Coppel
-
-Release Date: December 05, 2020 [EBook #63867]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed
- Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN MIDAS ***
-
-
-
-
- CAPTAIN MIDAS
-
- By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
-
- The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at
- the torn derelict floating against the velvet void.
- Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How
- could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Planet Stories Fall 1949.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go
-hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course,
-there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get
-any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain,
-sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great
-treasure....
-
-These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis
-seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans
-in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit.
-We're still a greedy lot....
-
-I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more
-right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask.
-The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I
-am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot--wait for the weight of
-years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things
-my eyes have seen.
-
-I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for
-old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb
-Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands.
-Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
-
-You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached
-earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe,
-thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have
-the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value
-out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're
-right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of
-civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of
-that. We did it for _us_ ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we
-were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the
-risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there.
-But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to
-all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no
-part of the world of men, thick with danger--and horror.
-
- * * * * *
-
-If you doubt that--and I can see you do--just look at me. I suppose
-you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story
-of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much
-of an answer. _I_ was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the
-sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are
-greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold.
-They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their
-lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
-
-It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on
-that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship,
-so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was
-two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came
-out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all
-like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The
-Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for
-alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had
-ever been found ... then.
-
-My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them
-so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for
-high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski.
-There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul
-for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different.
-That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe
-all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe.
-There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or
-anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that
-pushes the frontier outward.
-
-I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching
-the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last
-flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either.
-It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night
-that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative
-security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt
-into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
-
-I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For
-just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal
-under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a
-sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and
-the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was
-too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and
-for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world
-that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and
-gimme.
-
-I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would
-pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow
-would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of
-the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid
-that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure
-of that.
-
-In those days the asteroid belt was _the_ primary danger and menace to
-astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as
-fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million
-miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space
-that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used
-to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It
-took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics
-never panned out because of the weight problem.
-
-So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High
-and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval
-blackness is where we found the derelict.
-
- * * * * *
-
-I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported
-it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation
-ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of
-developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole
-responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never
-in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial
-intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just
-assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of
-unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
-
-There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that
-Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one
-of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All
-this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
-
-All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope
-I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a
-distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass,
-but I could see that the hulk was big--bigger than any ship I'd ever
-seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my
-slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the
-derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something
-about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer,
-and showed him my figures.
-
-"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to
-you?"
-
-Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures.
-It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct,
-Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of
-those figures on the chart.
-
-"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
-
-The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug
-of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon
-they were assembled in Control.
-
-"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have
-computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems
-to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into
-the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's
-_Space Regulations_ and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
-
-"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary
-Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found
-in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space
-not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars
-Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the
-vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases
-as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily
-ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that
-means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to
-claim it as salvage."
-
-"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
-
-"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger
-of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came
-in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
-
-There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds
-uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ...
-you think it came from the _stars_, Captain?"
-
-"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
-
-Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The
-first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon
-every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be
-worth money ... lots of money.
-
-Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
-
-They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth
-plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
-
-"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
-"Certainly!"
-
- * * * * *
-
-The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was
-her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained
-such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand
-feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable
-alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully
-in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with
-something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff
-were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some
-strange and alien way.
-
-It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for
-inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of
-mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave
-her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was
-unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she
-was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung
-about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away
-again into the inter-stellar deeps.
-
-Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps
-yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip
-that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We
-would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond
-the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know
-what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she
-was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ...
-but of what?
-
-We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would
-have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better
-equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by
-men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank.
-Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and
-brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things
-figured.
-
-The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed
-by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared
-a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth
-millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and
-crossed to her.
-
-In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their
-faces.
-
-"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit
-her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives.
-She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage
-compartments that are still unbroken."
-
-She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was
-nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull
-alone was left.
-
-He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples
-of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this
-stuff...."
-
-"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The
-carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and
-Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her
-down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check
-those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When
-it's done report to me in my quarters."
-
-I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a
-metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff
-is worth anything...."
-
-The metal was heavy--too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship
-construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that
-distant world where this metal was made?
-
-Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal
-torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver;
-those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were
-there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of
-the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. _It had a
-yellowish tinge, and it was heavier_....
-
-Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held
-it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm.
-Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It
-struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of
-metallic lustre.
-
-For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying
-all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a
-balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It
-was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The
-whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing
-vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had
-drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal--the
-stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was
-built--was now....
-
-_Gold!_
-
-I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my
-table-top. _Gold!_
-
-I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps,
-from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ...
-drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability
-in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element--wonderfully,
-miraculously gold!
-
-And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of
-this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have
-been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
-
- * * * * *
-
-A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the
-doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black
-eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table.
-He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me
-that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was
-the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
-
-"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my
-quarters!"
-
-Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the
-derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last
-two words.
-
-I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on
-the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
-
-"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
-
-"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize
-crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
-
-I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a
-first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would
-need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me
-to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me,
-Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
-
-Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning
-slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat
-him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
-
-"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister
-Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is
-that clear?"
-
-"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face
-and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he
-turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like
-him to let it go at that.
-
-Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't
-functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I
-rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering
-about Spinelli.
-
-Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and
-after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
-
-For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat
-to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first
-place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the
-second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
-
-I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and
-I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that
-there was no double-cross.
-
-I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the
-rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk.
-That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the
-treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they
-were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
-
-I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with
-that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally
-I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had
-set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw
-of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish
-fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a
-great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid
-followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls
-on automatic.
-
-Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six
-inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were
-nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a
-man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that
-it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and
-keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance
-against Zaleski.
-
-When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to
-blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from
-the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come
-between him and that mountain of gold.
-
-Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski
-told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard
-for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty
-of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand
-tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked.
-Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up
-a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't
-seemed likely before, but now--
-
-The gun-pointer remained as it was.
-
-As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well
-within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of
-messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid
-eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken
-the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
-
-Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and
-ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would
-have when the starship was cut up and sold.
-
-My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if
-I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my
-hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined
-to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no
-telling what can happen to a man in space....
-
-Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through
-garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal.
-Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours
-later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an
-animal suspicion.
-
-"They're faking!"
-
-"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
-
-"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
-
-I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey
-my orders. You told him about the gold!"
-
-"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you
-land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? _I_ found her, and
-she's mine!"
-
-I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in
-her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
-
-Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on
-the image of the starship on the viewplate.
-
-A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
-
-"Get this down, Spinelli!"
-
-The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ...
-sir."
-
-The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand
-that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were
-failing.
-
-"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ...
-WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ...
-CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly,
-in mid-word.
-
-"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
-
-"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
-
-He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in
-the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though
-the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
-
-Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the
-corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in
-sight.
-
-"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They
-won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing
-console of the supersonic rifle.
-
-I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
-
-"_Spinelli!_"
-
-My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him
-away from the panel.
-
-"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
-
-He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and
-he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing
-spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
-
-"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
-
- * * * * *
-
-He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge
-and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He
-stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged
-again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my
-right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He
-staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his
-stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my
-shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still
-trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go.
-My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face
-and lay still.
-
-[Illustration: _I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops._]
-
-Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
-glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
-his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
-felt sick inside, and dizzy.
-
-I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
-steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
-increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
-ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
-their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
-face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
-standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
-on that same aged look.
-
-I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
-flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
-gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
-that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
-contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
-
-I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
-piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
-Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
-and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
-of my men. It would have been better if I had!
-
-I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
-set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
-caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
-my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
-hole.
-
-I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
-long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
-cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
-
-As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
-quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
-little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
-distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
-perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
-not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
-had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
-metal.
-
-The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
-chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
-at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
-brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
-
-And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
-things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
-obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
-rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
-claw-like hands. They were old, old!
-
-I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
-devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
-from ... _us_!
-
-My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
-gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
-The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
-
-I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
-burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
-veins, ghastly and sure....
-
-I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
-as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
-load of ancient evil....
-
- * * * * *
-
-On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
-me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
-ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
-Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
-spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
-great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
-dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
-all of it.
-
-But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
-I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
-laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
-nickname. Have you heard it?
-
-It's ... Captain Midas.
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN MIDAS ***
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-<pre style='margin-bottom:6em;'>The Project Gutenberg EBook of Captain Midas, by Alfred Coppel
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this ebook.
-
-Title: Captain Midas
-
-Author: Alfred Coppel
-
-Release Date: December 05, 2020 [EBook #63867]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed
- Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN MIDAS ***
-</pre>
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-<h1>CAPTAIN MIDAS</h1>
-
-<h2>By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.</h2>
-
-<p>The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at<br />
-the torn derelict floating against the velvet void.<br />
-Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How<br />
-could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?</p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Planet Stories Fall 1949.<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>Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go
-hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course,
-there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get
-any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain,
-sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great
-treasure....</p>
-
-<p>These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis
-seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans
-in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit.
-We're still a greedy lot....</p>
-
-<p>I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more
-right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask.
-The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I
-am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot&mdash;wait for the weight of
-years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things
-my eyes have seen.</p>
-
-<p>I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for
-old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb
-Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands.
-Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....</p>
-
-<p>You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached
-earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe,
-thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have
-the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value
-out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're
-right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of
-civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of
-that. We did it for <i>us</i> ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we
-were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the
-risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there.
-But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to
-all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no
-part of the world of men, thick with danger&mdash;and horror.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>If you doubt that&mdash;and I can see you do&mdash;just look at me. I suppose
-you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story
-of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much
-of an answer. <i>I</i> was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the
-sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are
-greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold.
-They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their
-lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.</p>
-
-<p>It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on
-that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship,
-so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was
-two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came
-out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all
-like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The
-Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for
-alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had
-ever been found ... then.</p>
-
-<p>My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them
-so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for
-high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski.
-There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul
-for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different.
-That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe
-all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe.
-There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or
-anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that
-pushes the frontier outward.</p>
-
-<p>I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching
-the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last
-flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either.
-It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night
-that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative
-security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt
-into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.</p>
-
-<p>I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For
-just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal
-under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a
-sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and
-the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was
-too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and
-for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world
-that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and
-gimme.</p>
-
-<p>I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would
-pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow
-would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of
-the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid
-that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure
-of that.</p>
-
-<p>In those days the asteroid belt was <i>the</i> primary danger and menace to
-astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as
-fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million
-miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space
-that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used
-to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It
-took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics
-never panned out because of the weight problem.</p>
-
-<p>So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High
-and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval
-blackness is where we found the derelict.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported
-it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation
-ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of
-developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole
-responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never
-in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial
-intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just
-assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of
-unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.</p>
-
-<p>There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that
-Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one
-of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All
-this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!</p>
-
-<p>All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope
-I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a
-distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass,
-but I could see that the hulk was big&mdash;bigger than any ship I'd ever
-seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my
-slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the
-derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something
-about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer,
-and showed him my figures.</p>
-
-<p>"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to
-you?"</p>
-
-<p>Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures.
-It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct,
-Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of
-those figures on the chart.</p>
-
-<p>"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.</p>
-
-<p>The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug
-of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon
-they were assembled in Control.</p>
-
-<p>"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have
-computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems
-to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into
-the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's
-<i>Space Regulations</i> and opened it to the section concerning salvage.</p>
-
-<p>"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary
-Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found
-in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space
-not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars
-Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the
-vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases
-as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily
-ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that
-means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to
-claim it as salvage."</p>
-
-<p>"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.</p>
-
-<p>"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger
-of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came
-in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."</p>
-
-<p>There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds
-uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ...
-you think it came from the <i>stars</i>, Captain?"</p>
-
-<p>"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.</p>
-
-<p>Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The
-first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon
-every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be
-worth money ... lots of money.</p>
-
-<p>Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"</p>
-
-<p>They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth
-plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.</p>
-
-<p>"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
-"Certainly!"</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was
-her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained
-such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand
-feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable
-alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully
-in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with
-something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff
-were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some
-strange and alien way.</p>
-
-<p>It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for
-inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of
-mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave
-her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was
-unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she
-was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung
-about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away
-again into the inter-stellar deeps.</p>
-
-<p>Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps
-yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip
-that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We
-would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond
-the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know
-what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she
-was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ...
-but of what?</p>
-
-<p>We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would
-have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better
-equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by
-men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank.
-Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and
-brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things
-figured.</p>
-
-<p>The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed
-by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared
-a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth
-millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and
-crossed to her.</p>
-
-<p>In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their
-faces.</p>
-
-<p>"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit
-her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives.
-She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage
-compartments that are still unbroken."</p>
-
-<p>She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was
-nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull
-alone was left.</p>
-
-<p>He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples
-of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this
-stuff...."</p>
-
-<p>"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The
-carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and
-Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her
-down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check
-those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When
-it's done report to me in my quarters."</p>
-
-<p>I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a
-metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff
-is worth anything...."</p>
-
-<p>The metal was heavy&mdash;too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship
-construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that
-distant world where this metal was made?</p>
-
-<p>Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal
-torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver;
-those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were
-there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of
-the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. <i>It had a
-yellowish tinge, and it was heavier</i>....</p>
-
-<p>Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held
-it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm.
-Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It
-struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of
-metallic lustre.</p>
-
-<p>For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying
-all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a
-balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It
-was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The
-whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing
-vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had
-drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal&mdash;the
-stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was
-built&mdash;was now....</p>
-
-<p><i>Gold!</i></p>
-
-<p>I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my
-table-top. <i>Gold!</i></p>
-
-<p>I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps,
-from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ...
-drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability
-in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element&mdash;wonderfully,
-miraculously gold!</p>
-
-<p>And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of
-this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have
-been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the
-doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black
-eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table.
-He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me
-that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was
-the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.</p>
-
-<p>"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my
-quarters!"</p>
-
-<p>Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the
-derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last
-two words.</p>
-
-<p>I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on
-the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.</p>
-
-<p>"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.</p>
-
-<p>"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize
-crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."</p>
-
-<p>I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a
-first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would
-need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me
-to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me,
-Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."</p>
-
-<p>Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning
-slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat
-him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.</p>
-
-<p>"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister
-Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is
-that clear?"</p>
-
-<p>"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face
-and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he
-turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like
-him to let it go at that.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't
-functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I
-rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering
-about Spinelli.</p>
-
-<p>Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and
-after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.</p>
-
-<p>For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat
-to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first
-place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the
-second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.</p>
-
-<p>I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and
-I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that
-there was no double-cross.</p>
-
-<p>I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the
-rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk.
-That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the
-treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they
-were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.</p>
-
-<p>I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with
-that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally
-I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had
-set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw
-of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish
-fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a
-great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid
-followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls
-on automatic.</p>
-
-<p>Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six
-inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were
-nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a
-man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that
-it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and
-keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance
-against Zaleski.</p>
-
-<p>When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to
-blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from
-the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come
-between him and that mountain of gold.</p>
-
-<p>Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski
-told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard
-for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty
-of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand
-tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked.
-Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up
-a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't
-seemed likely before, but now&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>The gun-pointer remained as it was.</p>
-
-<p>As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well
-within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of
-messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid
-eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken
-the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.</p>
-
-<p>Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and
-ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would
-have when the starship was cut up and sold.</p>
-
-<p>My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if
-I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my
-hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined
-to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no
-telling what can happen to a man in space....</p>
-
-<p>Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through
-garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal.
-Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours
-later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an
-animal suspicion.</p>
-
-<p>"They're faking!"</p>
-
-<p>"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."</p>
-
-<p>"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"</p>
-
-<p>I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey
-my orders. You told him about the gold!"</p>
-
-<p>"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you
-land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? <i>I</i> found her, and
-she's mine!"</p>
-
-<p>I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in
-her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."</p>
-
-<p>Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on
-the image of the starship on the viewplate.</p>
-
-<p>A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.</p>
-
-<p>"Get this down, Spinelli!"</p>
-
-<p>The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ...
-sir."</p>
-
-<p>The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand
-that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were
-failing.</p>
-
-<p>"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ...
-WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ...
-CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly,
-in mid-word.</p>
-
-<p>"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.</p>
-
-<p>"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.</p>
-
-<p>He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in
-the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though
-the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.</p>
-
-<p>Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the
-corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in
-sight.</p>
-
-<p>"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They
-won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing
-console of the supersonic rifle.</p>
-
-<p>I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.</p>
-
-<p>"<i>Spinelli!</i>"</p>
-
-<p>My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him
-away from the panel.</p>
-
-<p>"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.</p>
-
-<p>He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and
-he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing
-spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.</p>
-
-<p>"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge
-and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He
-stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged
-again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my
-right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He
-staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his
-stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my
-shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still
-trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go.
-My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face
-and lay still.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/>
- <div class="caption">
- <p><i>I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.</i></p>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
-glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
-his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
-felt sick inside, and dizzy.</p>
-
-<p>I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
-steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
-increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
-ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
-their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
-face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
-standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
-on that same aged look.</p>
-
-<p>I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
-flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
-gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
-that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
-contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.</p>
-
-<p>I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
-piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
-Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
-and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
-of my men. It would have been better if I had!</p>
-
-<p>I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
-set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
-caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
-my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
-hole.</p>
-
-<p>I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
-long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
-cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....</p>
-
-<p>As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
-quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
-little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
-distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
-perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
-not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
-had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
-metal.</p>
-
-<p>The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
-chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
-at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
-brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.</p>
-
-<p>And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
-things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
-obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
-rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
-claw-like hands. They were old, old!</p>
-
-<p>I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
-devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
-from ... <i>us</i>!</p>
-
-<p>My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
-gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
-The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!</p>
-
-<p>I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
-burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
-veins, ghastly and sure....</p>
-
-<p>I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
-as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
-load of ancient evil....</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
-me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
-ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
-Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
-spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
-great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
-dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
-all of it.</p>
-
-<p>But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
-I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
-laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
-nickname. Have you heard it?</p>
-
-<p>It's ... Captain Midas.</p>
-
-<pre style='margin-top:6em'>
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