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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..548286b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66288 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66288) diff --git a/old/66288-0.txt b/old/66288-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fdfb9ad..0000000 --- a/old/66288-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1193 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fifty-Fourth of July, by Alan E. Nourse - -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: The Fifty-Fourth of July - -Author: Alan E. Nourse - -Release Date: September 13, 2021 [eBook #66288] - -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 THE FIFTY-FOURTH OF JULY *** - - - - - The Fifty-fourth Of July - - By Alan E. Nourse - - Matt had to destroy the rocket because it - was a symbol of evil that had brought economic - disaster. But must he also destroy--the future? - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy - March 1954 - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -It was well after dark when Matt Matthews got back down to the -headquarters camp, and saw the city stranger sitting there before -the fire. He knew he was a city man after a single glance at the -shiny, low-topped shoes and the reminiscence of a crease in the dusty -trousers. Matt tossed the gophers and the two small coyotes off his -broad shoulders to old Moe Arhelger, across the campfire, staring in -suspicious silence from the stranger to Moe and back again. "Who's he?" -he asked finally. - -"He wants to go down to the Ship," said Moe, tossing another stick -into the fire. He was a thin, wiry old man, with a white rim of beard -scraggling over his lean jaw. A short-bit pipe was clenched between a -set of very bad teeth. On his head was a torn, filthy old felt hat, -but his clear blue eyes held the silent confidence of authority. The -old man puffed quietly as he glanced up at the young giant who had -just arrived. "His name's Loevy--he says. Flew over from El Paso this -morning in a 'copter, just to see me. Even knew my name--" - -"Everybody in New Mexico knows your name," Matthews growled. - -The old man nodded, his eyes bright. "Mr. Loevy wants to go down to the -Ship tonight." - -Matt stared at the stranger's half-day stubble. Then he burst out -laughing. "That's what we all want to do, buddy. Just go down to the -Ship. That's all. Only trouble is, the Bulldog isn't ready to lay out -the welcome mat for us just yet." He glanced over at Moe. "Did the doc -say anything about Jack Abel?" - -"Jack's dead. Three slugs in the head." - -Matt's face darkened. He looked up at Loevy. "Jack wanted to go down to -the ship, too. Tried to go down quiet-like." He set about skinning the -first coyote, tossing the rest of the game to the group of silent men -sitting around the fire near Moe. "You're wasting your time, stranger. -Stick around a while. Be patient, like us. The Bulldog can't hold out -forever." - -Loevy ran a hand through his dark hair, watching Matthews with sharp -brown eyes. "I wasn't figuring on going down quiet-like," he said. - -Matt looked up as though seeing the man for the first time, his eyes -dark with suspicion. "Then how _do_ you plan to go?" His hand moved to -the gun at his side, and he began massaging the stock with his huge paw. - -Loevy glanced at the gun without fear. "Under a truce flag," he said. - -Matthews spat. "Old man Gorham has command of four hundred men down at -the ship. They'll shoot anybody that comes close on sight." He looked -up at Moe, caught the old man's blue eyes sharply. "I don't like this -guy, Moe. I think we'd better take care of him." - -Moe shook his head. "Take it easy, Matt. The man thinks maybe he can -get this siege broken. Thinks Gorham may surrender if he knows what's -happened--in Washington, all over the country." - -Loevy nodded, bobbing his head eagerly. "I knew Gorham--before the -crash. He's an old-guard soldier, he'll honor a truce flag." His voice -was crisp in the still night air. "You want to get your hands on that -ship--that's all you want, the whole crowd of you out here. Nothing -else. So why risk a fight, risk getting killed, if I can get Gorham to -surrender to you?" - -Matt grinned unpleasantly. "Why do you think they call him the Bulldog? -He'll never give up--until we starve him out. We've got the time, and -the men, and the food. They can't last much longer--" - -Loevy frowned in annoyance. "I say you may not need to wait." - - * * * * * - -Matthews climbed to his feet and walked slowly over to the edge of the -rocks where the camp was situated. It was on the edge of the desert, -and down below sand and sage stretched for miles in the pale moonlight. -On either side he could see the flicker of the other campfires, forming -a huge circle, many miles in diameter. As he stood watching, his ear -unconsciously picked up the rustle of silent footsteps on the trail -leading to the nearest campfire away--the guard-line which closed the -circle tight. But he was not interested in the guard lines tonight. -They were well guarded, no one could get through them. There were -half a dozen dead soldiers lying out in the desert to attest to that, -soldiers who had tried to break through to the main highway during -the past three weeks. What held Matt's interest right now was the -huge cyclone-fence enclosure in the center of the circle of fires. -Inside the fence he could see the low, flat buildings of the Rocket -Development Project, and in the moonlight he could make out the lines -of the Ship itself, standing tall and lifeless in the darkness. He -watched it for a moment, and his fists clenched. - -He whirled back to the fire, lifting the city stranger up by the -collar, dragging his face up close to his. "Why do you want to go down -there?" he snarled. - -Loevy's face was purple, and he gasped for breath. "Because there's no -point in letting four hundred innocent men be slaughtered when you can -have the Ship without firing a gun. That's why!" - -"My but we're noble," Matt snapped. "What do you care how many are -killed? Who sent you here in the first place? Where did you get a -'copter to fly over here in?" - -Loevy shook himself free, glaring up at the giant standing over him. "I -stole a 'copter, if you have to know. And nobody sent me--" - -"How did you know we were here?" - -"Don't be a fool. The whole country knows you're here. Look, all I want -is a chance to talk to Gorham under a truce flag for fifteen minutes. -If I don't succeed, you don't lose a thing. What harm can it do?" - -Moe Arhelger spat into the fire. "Can't do no harm. And it might just -break this open for us, once and for all. Then we could go back home." - -"But if he's a spy--he could have word from reinforcements. Maybe the -Army's planning a march--" - -Loevy snorted. "The Army isn't planning anything. The Army is starving -to death. The nearest contingent is in San Diego, and they've got their -hands full just scouring the countryside for food. They've got no fuel -to come here with even if they felt like it--" - -Matt scowled. "He could still be a spy." - -Moe Arhelger nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing at the city man. Then he -looked up at Matt. "I know. That's why I want him to go down to the -Ship. With you along with him." - - * * * * * - -The trip down the mountainside was slow. It was almost a half an hour -before they reached the encampment at the bottom, on a gravel road -that led straight out to the Rocket site. The road was piled high with -rocks, and four men with old felt hats and plaid shirts sat in jeeps, -watching the road for a stir of life. - -Matt and Loevy commandeered a jeep, bounced down a gulley to by-pass -the road block, and started along the road toward the fenced enclosure. -A spotlight picked them up almost immediately, and Loevy hoisted a -white shirt up on a pole, waving it to catch the light. Then slowly -they drove ahead, until two more spotlights flashed on from the ship, -scanning the sage on either side of them, flickering in their faces as -they made their way along. Loevy sat tight-lipped, peering ahead into -the darkness. Matthews drove silently. He had never been this close to -Rocket Number Five before, but rockets were an old story to him. He -had worked on Number Three and Number Four during his two years in the -Labor Force. He knew quite enough about rockets. - -More lights went on as they approached the fence. Inside, off to -the left and right were buildings, the storerooms and offices of -the Project, and in the center, standing tall, with her lower third -enshrouded in scaffolding and canvas, stood the ship-- - -Rocket Number Five. The last attempt, the straw that broke the camel's -back. Four great ships before it, crashing into heaps of rubble, -dragging the Earth down with them. And here the fifth, as yet unborn, -never to be launched. Matthews made a bitter sound in his throat. When -he thought of the horrible fifty-four days just past, he knew that his -hate for this Rocket ship and everything it stood for was right. Moe -was right, in his fanatical burning hatred of the old world which had -struggled blindly to launch its ships, and starved itself to do so. But -Moe wanted everything--the ships, the men, the government, everything. -Matthews only wanted the ship. - -He smiled grimly to himself. The garrison could not hold out much -longer. They had no food, and the ring of guerillas surrounding the -ship like a tight net would see that they got no food. It had been -a long wait--but soon they would struggle out, begging for food and -water, leaving the ship standing alone-- - -To be wrecked, and ripped, and torn into a thousand bitter pieces-- - -A soldier suddenly appeared in a spotlight inside the huge fence gate, -rifle half-raised in his hands. He let out a shout and brought the -rifle up to his shoulder. "Halt!" - -The jeep's tires screeched. Then Loevy raised the flag again and waved -it. "Truce," he called out. "We're unarmed." - -"What do you want?" - -"We want to talk to the Bulldog." - -There was a long pause as a conference was held back in the shadows. -Someone in the darkness ran out to join the gate guard. Then there was -a grating sound as the lock on the gate snapped open. The gate swung -out as five more soldiers encircled it from within, rifles cocked and -ready. "Leave the jeep outside. Come in with your hands raised." - -Slowly Matt and Loevy climbed out and walked forward. The soldiers -looked weary, their clothes filthy, their eyes bright with hate. They -watched the men as they walked in, and then closed around them, herding -them across to a long, low building. Lights went on, and Matt could -see the dim interior of a disused day room, the walls piled high with -supply cartons. - -"You wait," said one of the soldiers. "I'll see if the Colonel wants to -see you." He watched them carefully until the gate clanged shut. Then -he nodded to another guard, and disappeared into the darkness. - - * * * * * - -They did not wait long. The door burst open, and a short, squat, -grey-haired man strode into the room. Dressed in a T shirt and OD -pants, he was not an imposing figure, but there was no mistaking the -heavy shock of grey hair, the solid, sour set of the mouth, the wideset -eyes. The Bulldog of White Sands, they had called him. The man in -charge of administration of three Rocket Projects, the man who had -sworn that space would never defeat him. He glared at Matthews for a -moment, and then his glance shifted to Loevy, and his eyes widened. - -"Well," he said sourly. "I hardly expected to see _you_ joining up with -these pigs." - -Loevy's eyes flickered in a tired smile. "So you remember me," he said. - -"I never forget a face." The Colonel stared at him with a stony -expression for a moment. "White Sands, April of 1993--two and a -half years ago, almost. Just after the third ship blew up. Name -is--umm--Loevy--" - -Loevy nodded. "That's right." - -The Colonel's eyes hardened. "You were with a crowd that was trying to -talk the government into junking the Rocket projects--right?" - -"That's right. We predicted the impending crash even then--" - -"Hogwash," said the Colonel. "A lot of statistical blather." - -"Unfortunately, statistics is a scientific technique, and our -predictions were not blather. We predicted the crash almost to the day. -We said the 30th of July, 1995. We had no way of predicting the Iranian -oil decision, which happened last April. That precipitated the crisis -by a month, so it came on the first of July instead of the thirtieth. -But socio-mathematics were far beyond the blather stage then. We hope -we can still salvage something from the country now." - -The old soldier blinked at him. "What do you want, Loevy?" - -"I've come to ask you to surrender the Ship and march your men out of -here." - -Colonel Gorham snorted. "My orders were to guard and protect this -rocket, down to the last man if necessary. On the sixth of July, a week -after the crash, I had orders direct from the President to hold this -Ship at any cost. He warned me then that there'd be mobs, maybe even an -attempt to storm the enclosure." He scowled angrily. "They'll never get -this ship as long as I'm alive." - -"And have you heard from the President since the sixth?" Loevy's voice -was smooth. - -"I have not." - -"Perhaps that's because the President was hanged on the White House -lawn the day after he called you. Quite a mob was there. The food pinch -was just beginning to be felt. And that was forty-seven days ago--" He -glanced up at the Colonel's white face. "Oh, I'm not lying to you. It -happened. Have you had _any_ communications recently?" - -"How could I? They cut the telephone cables, and we can't get anything -but hysterical nonsense from our radio sets--" - - * * * * * - -"Has it occurred to you that many things may have happened in the -course of this last month?" Loevy's voice was sharp in the still room. - -"I'll hold this Ship until things get straightened out," the Colonel -snapped. - -"Colonel--_things aren't going to straighten out_. This isn't just a -little depression we're in now, it isn't a small business recession -that will just up and stabilize soon. This is an economic crash that -has thrown the world back a thousand years. We may _never_ recover -from the crash that came on the first of July. The government is -gone, Colonel. _There isn't any government._ The army has dissolved -into the hills, hunting for food. The only money with any value is -being paid out by the hospitals for blood to restock their banks. -And without money there isn't any food. The people in the cities are -starving--standing in the streets starving because food isn't coming -in. Communications are out, there isn't any commercial traffic--" - -"I have a stockpile of emergency rations a mile high, and I have four -hundred men who aren't running around in the hills," the Colonel -snarled. "I have a job to do, and I'm doing it--" - -"But you're guarding an empty shell! Look, the people don't know all -the reasons for the collapse. They don't know the whole picture--but -they know one thing. They know they've been taxed beyond endurance, -their gasoline has been requisitioned, their boys taken for military -and labor service, their money devaluated again and again so that the -government could get a Rocket off the Earth before the Asians did. And -they know that now the whole world has fallen in a heap, and they're -starving to death. And they know that this Rocket was being worked on -when the crash came. They want it, Colonel. They are going to get it, -too. They need a scapegoat for these fifty-four days, and this Rocket -is it! And there won't _be_ any recovery as long as the ship stands." - -He stared at the Colonel, and then made a hopeless gesture. "You don't -believe me, do you? You think that it's just a matter of time until -things stabilize, and everything will be back to normal, don't you? -Well, it won't Colonel. Do you know what they are calling the date, -out there? The Fifty-Fourth of July! Fifty-four days since the crash, -and things are getting worse every day. Even time has stood still; -they've forgotten to use the calendar. There'll never be a world like -you knew before, Colonel--but the agony and suffering and chaos must be -paid for, somehow, and the Rocket is the price. Until the whole world -knows that the Rocket is utterly destroyed, there will be no faith in -government or people or anything else." - -Loevy glanced nervously at Matthews, towering against the wall watching -the discussion sourly. Then he looked back at the Colonel and leaned -forward. "Let them take the ship. There are things here far more -precious than any single rocket ship could ever be. You know what I -mean. If you resist, they'll get the ship and _everything else_--" - -The Colonel's eyes moved to Matthews' heavy face, and then back to -Loevy. Suddenly his face looked very tired. "That's a chance I'll have -to take," he said wearily. "You're wasting your time, Loevy." - - * * * * * - -Later, around the campfire, Matt stared gloomily at old Moe Arhelger. -"I tell you, I don't like it," he said. "I just don't like it." - -The old man cocked sharp eyes across the fire. "I don't see that any -harm was done. We gave the Bulldog his last chance. He didn't care to -take it. That suits me fine. Now he can watch out." - -Matt shook his head sharply. "That isn't what I mean. I didn't like the -looks of the place. It looked too much like a going concern. Gorham was -too damned confident." - -"Did you ever see a garrison commander who wasn't?" - -"But Gorham is no fool. He knows we've got this encampment sewed up. He -knows he can't get out and neither can his men. He knows there won't -be any supplies coming in for him." Matt rubbed his chin thoughtfully. -"And the look of the place--the look of the ship. I couldn't see much, -of course, but it didn't look right--" - -The old man's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?" - -Matt's forehead creased into a worried frown. "I don't know. I think -they're trying to complete the Rocket for a flight." - -"But that's crazy!" Moe exploded. "They don't have the supplies, they -don't have the calculator power, they haven't got power for anything. -We've seen to that. Gasoline generators for their spotlights--nothing -else." - -"I know, I know--it doesn't make sense." Matt shot a glance at Loevy, -crouched at a nearby fire, and he lowered his voice. "And there was -something Loevy said--about something more valuable than the ship -itself--Look, Moe, we don't know how far the Ship had gone before the -crash. Maybe all the calculations were completed." - -Moe stared at the fire for a long moment. A tall, lanky man stumbled -up the trail by flashlight, sending down a shower of pebbles. He -stopped before the fire. "All quiet, Moe. They closed up shop after the -delegation left." - -Moe nodded to the man. "Tell Mike to alert his men, Tommy. Get -everybody looking alive." - -"What's up? Something about to break?" - -The old man scowled. "I don't know. But I want everyone awake. Got it?" - -The guard nodded, and vanished down the trail again. Moe turned to -Matthews, a queer look in his eyes. "What do you think, Matt?" - -"I think our time is running out," said Matthews. - -"Maybe you worry too much." - -"Maybe." - -Moe's eyes blazed. "They _can't_ try to launch it," he snarled. "It's -got to be smashed--smashed so hard they'll never dare try to make -another one--" His hand clenched on his rifle until the knuckles were -white. - -Matt leaned forward eagerly. "Let me go down there, Moe. We've got -dynamite. I could find a way to climb the fence, maybe, and start the -works off. Once something went bang from the inside and broke their -control of the place, we could mop them up." - -Moe's hand relaxed. "You'd never make it alive." - -"Somebody's got to try. There isn't much time, I'm sure of it--" - -"All right. Try it. But before you go, you've got a visitor. I think -you'd better talk to her." - - * * * * * - -The girl was waiting in his tent, sitting alone in the darkness. She -looked up into the flashlight beam, and there were wet streaks of dust -on her cheeks. "Matt? Is that you?" She stumbled to her feet. "Oh, -Matt--" - -"Mary!" The big man stared at his wife, his eyes wide. "Mary, what are -you doing _here_? How did you get here, why did you come?" He took -her in his arms, held her tight as she pressed her face against his -chest, sobbing. Then suddenly he straightened up, held her out at arm's -length, staring into her large brown eyes. "Mary--the farm--" - -She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks, and shook her -head miserably. "Gone. City people from San Diego--they came one night, -they took it--" - -A numbness ran down his spine as he stared at her. "But Dad and -Johnny--" - -"They never had a chance." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, her -voice faltering. "It was a crowd of men, maybe ten of them, came across -the land about eight o'clock one night. They shot your Dad when he -walked out on the porch. Shot him through the head. Then they came -in the house and beat Johnny to death. Oh, Matt--it was horrible. -They shot the cow and cooked her over an open fire. You should have -seen them--they were starving, they were like wild men, calling us -land-grabbers and food-hoarders. I sneaked out the back way when they -weren't looking and ran down to the road to Escondido and found Harry -Davis. He and a bunch of the boys had stolen some gas and were planning -to drive over the mountains to join you here. They sent word around to -the other farmers, and then they brought me along--" - -Matt stood numbly, staring at the girl's face. "Mary, you shouldn't -have come here, you should have gone to the folks in town--they would -have helped you, taken care of you--" - -The girl whirled on him, her eyes pleading. "Oh, Matt, come away from -here, come out of this horrible fight and come home! What does it -matter if there's a Rocket out here--we can't eat Rockets, we need -food. The City folks are coming out in hordes. There was a man said -the water supply wasn't going to last to the north, that the cars were -lined up three deep from the coast clear out to Salt-Lake, bumper to -bumper, a week ago. They stole gasoline from the refineries, before -they blew them up. They're all heading east and north--oh, Matt, take -me home--" - -He stood there in the dim light of the flashlight, and then knelt -down beside her, holding her against him. "I can't, Mary. Not yet," -he said softly. "The world we knew before was crazy. This Rocket was -crazy--this being afraid of war, and fighting to out-do the rest of the -world was crazy, somehow--" - -She stared at him. "But everybody knew that if we didn't get there -first, the others would. And there would have been a horrible war, the -end of everything--" - -"Everyone was so busy being afraid of the war that they couldn't see -what was happening to the world around them. They didn't see that -something worse than a war could happen until it was too late. They -figured the oil would last another hundred years, and it only lasted -twenty. They thought they could go on like this forever--" He stared -blankly out at the darkness, his eyes hollow. "It was that Rocket that -did it. That's why we have to destroy it." - -"Matt, if we don't go now we won't have any home left to go to. Those -people don't know how to farm, they'll kill all the animals, and strip -the trees and fields, and burn all the buildings--" - -He shook his head, hardly able to put into words the bitterness in -his heart. "It won't do any good to go back, without destroying the -Rocket. It's the last remnant of the old world--standing out there--the -world that led us to _this_. It's poisonous, it's evil. There'll never -be recovery unless the ship is wiped out." He looked down into her -frightened eyes, rubbed her shoulders gently. "Don't be afraid. It -won't be long. I'm going out there tonight. I'm going to blow that -Rocket into a million pieces." - -She clung to him like a child, shaking her head helplessly. "You will -be killed, I know you will be killed, _please_, Matt--Oh, if anything -happens to you, I--I won't know what to do, I can't let you go--" - -"I've got to, Mary." - -Her voice was very small. "And when it's over--?" - -"We'll manage somehow. I don't know how. It doesn't really matter now. -I don't know what kind of a world we'll have when it's all over, but I -know that I'm going out to get that Ship. If it's the only thing I ever -do that's right." - - * * * * * - -He went out alone. He tried to force out of his mind the account Mary -had brought of the butchery back home, concentrating on one thing, and -one thing only. The Ship had to be destroyed. Standing out there in the -desert, it was the symbol of all that was wrong with a world that had -somehow, abruptly, been left behind. Matt saw it in black and white, -bitterly, a cause and effect relationship. He could neither rationalize -it or deny it. But somehow, he felt, by destroying the Ship he could -wipe out a past too horrible even to think about. He knew he had to do -it. - -Matthews moved quietly through the blackness. The sandy soil was caked -and hard under his feet, and the moon had just gone under the horizon -to the West. Far ahead he could see the feeble guard lights of the -enclosure, and he stopped, panting, staring at the tiny figures pacing -back and forth. He had grown used to moving cautiously through the -desertland without making a sound; now he concentrated on silence for -his very life, and the only sound in his ears was the jogging of the -dynamite pack on his shoulders. - -He circled slowly, making for the section of the fencing closest to the -ship. He knew there would be few lights, since precious gasoline had -to run generators to provide any at all. He had examined the gates as -they had opened earlier in the evening, and felt certain there was no -break-circuit alarm on the fence. Power, again. Only for the barest, -most critical essentials. And with four hundred men available, eyesight -was the best way to guard the fence-- - -The heavy metal wire appeared suddenly in the gloom, and he fell flat -on his face in a little gulley as the tread of a guard's feet sounded -from a distance. A small flashlight flicked on and off as the footsteps -approached. Matt hugged the ground, holding his breath as the soldier -moved silently by. Then he was up against the fence, dragging the -climbers from his pockets, strapping them onto his boots. Cutting the -heavy fencing wire was out of the question--the sound would ring out in -the stillness like a pistol shot. But the barbed wire at the top could -be cut with only a small sound. He struggled up the bare fence, a few -inches at a time. - -It seemed like hours. He knew the guard's timing down to the second, -and he worked himself up, panting. It was the dog-watch; the men would -not be too alert, even men fighting for their lives-- - -He clung to the fence with one hand, and snapped the four barbed -strands with a hand tool, felt them curl away with a _ping_. He dragged -his body up and caught his knee on the top of the fence. In an instant -he had dropped to the ground inside the enclosure-- - -On his feet, he crouched and ran for the tall, dark ship. The -intervening buildings provided him cover. Down one of the concrete -streets a dozen men were huddled around a small fire near the gate, -talking and laughing. Matt slipped across the street, and saw the -ship's mammoth scaffolding rise up in the darkness. - -It was a beautiful ship, tall and silvery, enshrouded like a statue -waiting to be unveiled. He glanced about the grounds around, and -his eyes widened. Great tanks of fuel stood nearby, recently-opened -cartons of supplies were everywhere in evidence. A huge pile of oxygen -cylinders formed a heavy pyramid. Matthews walked over to one of the -open crates, peered into it. Heavy material, plastic, metal-- - -Space suits. - - * * * * * - -He opened the pack on his back, drew out the bundles of dynamite -carefully, separated them from the coil of wire to the small detonator. -Somewhere in the distance he heard talking, and he hurried his -movements. Finally the deadly bundles were free. - -As he stooped to duck under the first tier of the scaffolding a bright -light flashed on above him, and an alarm bell started clanging. He -cursed, and ran like a cat under the scaffolding, up to the great -silvery fin of the ship. Of course, he should have thought that if -there was no circuit alarm on the fence there surely would be one -around the ship. Far away a roar of voices rose up, and shouts, the -pummel of running feet. Frantically he thrust a dynamite charge under -one of the fins of the ship, then ran to a second and laid another -charge. A rifle cracked somewhere, and another, and he darted into the -piles of boxes, unreeling the detonator wire as he ran. There were -hoarse shouts all about him now. He ducked into a huge empty crate, not -fifty feet from the charges. Huddling down in it for protection, he -connected wires to the battery, and slammed down the plunger-- - -The shock wave hit him before the sound did, picking up the crate like -a pill-box hurling Matthews head over heels. The roar burst in his -ears, striking him like a palpable wall, and a shout of despair went up -among the soldiers. Matt stood up, then, staring up at the great metal -hulk. There was a heavy rushing sound and the ship faltered, shaking -like a giant aspen leaf, and slowly began to tip-- - -It struck the ground with a deafening crash, a grating of torn metal -and the screech of broken, twisted planks. Something exploded into -a pillar of fire--and then, in the distance Matthews saw flashes of -fire from the desert, heard rifles cracking. A soldier, running to the -fence, saw him and raised his rifle, wild eyes reflecting the fire. -Matthews dove for him, threw him back with a grunt as the rifle cracked -into the air. And then the compound was wild with the sound of running, -shouting men. - -Matthews ran for a huge truck standing near the fallen ship. He -threw himself up into the cab, gunning the motor to a roar. Then the -gears grated and the truck started forward, straight for the crowd -of soldiers lining up at the fence. Matt gripped the steering wheel, -leaning as low as possible, throwing the huge truck at the fence with -all its power. The impact nearly threw him through the windshield; he -heard a grating as the wire bunged out and the fence-posts snapped. -Shifting into compound low, he drove the truck through the fence like a -bulldozer. - -And then, all around him, the men from outside were pouring through the -break, screaming in triumph, rifles cracking. A horde of them came, and -the soldiers fell back, bewildered, shooting wildly, running in circles -of panic as the angry mob poured through. And then Matt felt the first -wave of shock pass through him. Wearily he dropped his head against the -dash-board, gasping for breath. He knew that the ship was taken. - - * * * * * - -He did not know how long he was unconscious. Fires were burning in a -dozen buildings around him, and he could hear the screams and shouts -of the raiders. Dark figures rushed wildly by, silhouetted against the -orange flames. Matt crawled down from the truck as four men ran by with -crowbars, shouting at the top of their lungs. Matt stared at the crowd -surrounding the fallen ship, shouting, raising torches high in the dark -night-- - -He watched for a long moment, but something flickered in his mind. It -was a picture of mad, frantic destruction on all sides of him, but -something was whispering softly in his ear. Loevy's words. Loevy's -intense face. _There is something far more precious than any one Rocket -ship here_-- - -Staring at the screaming mob, Matthews suddenly knew what Loevy had -meant. A wrecking crew was at work on the ship, savagely venting their -pent-up rage and fear and frustration on the inanimate metal, wrenching -hull plates off with violent screeches, ripping and slicing stanchions -with blow-torches hissing. A dozen people were streaming in and out -of the air-lock, dragging couches, springs, chunks of instrument -panel, hoards of supplies, oxygen tanks. The crowd was exultant, the -fire-light shining on a thousand wild faces, maddened by the lust of -destruction. But Matthews stared, and the feeling of sickness and -revulsion grew hard in the pit of his stomach. - -He turned and started over toward the buildings. The deed was done, but -horror was still at large in the world. He didn't know what the future -held--and yet, somehow now he didn't want to join the insane fury at -work ripping the Rocket to shreds. Loevy's words nagged at his mind, -and he made his way between the burning buildings, feeling the desert -breeze turned hot in his face, until he saw the concrete and stone -administration building up ahead. - -_We hope maybe we can still salvage something...._ - -As Matt walked through the doorway of the headquarters office he -stopped short, stiffening to the sound of a forty-five booming in the -room before him. - -There was Moe, his back half to the door, holding the still smoking -automatic in his hand. - -And Matt's eyes went from Moe to a long row of filing cabinets against -the far wall. Beside a partially open drawer a figure slumped against -the side of the cabinet, hands clutching at a sheaf of papers inside -the drawer. It was the Bulldog, the colonel himself. But even as Matt -stared wide-eyed, the colonel let out a rasping sigh and fell to the -floor. - -He lay still beside another body--that of Loevy. - -"Moe!" - -Moe turned as Matt strode into the room. There was an angry look on the -old man's face. - -"A spy, that's what he was--you were right, Matt. I caught him in -here with the Bulldog. They were talking and going through the files -together--looked like they were planning on skipping out. Fat chance!" -Moe laughed mirthlessly. "Whatever they were looking for they won't use -now. And nobody else will. Got a match, Matt? I'm going to burn this -place to the ground!" - -Matt stared from the dead bodies to Moe and over to the cabinet with -the drawer still half open. He saw the sheaf of papers the Bulldog had -been holding just before he died. He remembered again what Loevy had -said--_there is something far more precious than any one Rocket ship -here_-- - -"Moe--you're missing out on the fun at the Ship!" Matt said suddenly, -intensely. - -"I'll get out there. But first I got to--" - -"Let me do it, Moe.--I'd enjoy seeing them two burn together. Afterall, -it isn't much of a favor to ask...." - -Moe looked at him curiously for a moment, then shrugged. "Why not? If -it wasn't for you we wouldn't be in here at all tonight. Go ahead. I'll -meet you at the Ship. Make a nice big fire!" - - * * * * * - -And then Moe was gone and Matt stood alone in the room. He stood -and stared down at the dead bodies; Loevy's face showing fear and -frustration just as it must have when Moe's bullet found his heart; the -Colonel, slumped partially across Loevy's body, the Bulldog face in a -tight angry knot, even in death. The colonel had been a brave man, a -tough one. Matt wished suddenly that he had not had to die. - -He crossed hurriedly to the file and pulled the sheaf of papers from -the drawer. A sheaf of blue papers--blue papers with white lines.... - -Blue-prints! - -That was what Loevy had meant. The calculations had been completed, the -blue-prints made. The ship had been almost completed, and now it was -destroyed-- - -_But the blue-prints remained_-- - -Here were the hopes and dreams of centuries. Here were the plans, the -specifications, the construction plans. Fifty years of the Earth's -resources, and now the project they had planned and specified was being -destroyed in a single night, the night of the fifty-fourth of July-- - -He stared at the prints, his whole body trembling. He hated the Rocket, -he hated everything it had ever stood for in the old world before the -crash. It had stripped him of his home, robbed him of his future. It -had robbed the whole world of its heritage, and he hated it. - -And yet, to go to the planets had always been man's great dream. The -ship could be destroyed without utterly destroying the dream. Because -someday, somehow, men could take these precious papers, sometime when -the world was sane again, and build another ship-- - -His mind rushed back to his boyhood days, and he remembered sharply -the lure of the open spaces he had felt then. Someday, he had dreamed, -he would build a rocket to the Moon, and go out there to explore and -discover. It hadn't mattered what he would explore, what he would -discover. All that had mattered was the urge to go. An urge he had -shared with thousands of men-- - -He hadn't known then that the goal would crush the world into a -smoking ruin far worse than any war. A crash that brought slow death -by starvation, a crash that wrenched the livelihood from the mouths -of millions, a crash that demoralized them and drove them back to the -caves to work and fight like savages for a few morsels of bread. He -hadn't known that--because it wasn't really necessary that it happen. -Men could, someday, find a way to go out without bankrupting the world -to do it-- - -He searched frantically, found a huge pasteboard box. He had seen -others moving through the torchlight with boxes filled full of loot. He -began loading the blue-prints into it, breathlessly, glancing over his -shoulder for fear someone might come in. He reached into his pocket, -drew out his revolver and placed it on the cabinet beside him as he -worked. Let them burn the buildings and tear up the Ship--but they must -not destroy these papers. Let the Rocket Project be dead, utterly dead, -torn to shreds by the people of this strange twilight world, but _the -dream need not die_-- - - * * * * * - -He heard a sound behind him, and he whirled, staring up into Moe -Arhelger's bearded face. The old man stood there, a strange light in -his wild eyes, staring first at Matt, then at the blue papers in the -box. "I see now why you wanted to be alone!" He looked up at Matt, a -long, slow, savage look. "Dump it, Matt," he said, motioning to the box. - -Matthews' arm tightened around the carton. "I want these," he said -softly. "You've got your Rocket, Moe. They'll never build another one--" - -"_I said dump it._" There was a harsh edge to the old man's voice. -"We're cleaning the place out. Everything. There'll never be another -one, never, as long as the world lives." - -"But what do you care about these?" Matt cried. "You'll be dead long -before they ever try Rockets again." - -"They're evil!" the old man snarled. "Everything about them is evil. -They've dragged us down into the dirt, down so far we'll never be able -to crawl up again--" His rifle levelled, slowly. "Throw those prints on -the floor, Matt. Touch a match to them, right here. Or I'll burn them -for you." - -Slowly Matt turned, lifted up the box. It was heavy; his eyes flicked -to the old man, and he rested the box gently on the bench for a moment. -And then he threw it in the old man's face, and snatched up the -revolver from the bench. He fired four times, and the old man doubled -over and pitched forward on his face, groaning. Matt kicked the rifle -across the room, throwing the blue-prints back into the box. Panting, -he shot out the light, and fled across the compound toward the opened -gate. - -Somewhere out there Mary would be waiting. And maybe Loevy's group was -still alive, somewhere, maybe they still knew a way toward recovery now -that the Rocket was destroyed. The fifty-four days of chaos might be -over now. They would know what to do with the precious box. It would be -in safe hands until men were ready to build again. - -Matt ran through the gate and into the shadows outside the compound. -In the flickering light of the flames behind him he could make out a -figure approaching. - -"Matt! Oh, Matt--you're safe!" - -It was Mary, and he felt a gladness sweep through him. She grabbed his -arms then, her eyes tear-filled with relief. She glanced down at the -box he held closely against him. "Matt, what's that?" - -He motioned her toward the deeper shadows and a jeep he saw standing -unguarded. His voice was grim as he answered her. "It's for the future, -Mary ... the future." - -Moments later they drove away into the night. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTY-FOURTH OF JULY *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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Nourse</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Fifty-Fourth of July</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Alan E. Nourse</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 13, 2021 [eBook #66288]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTY-FOURTH OF JULY ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>The Fifty-fourth Of July</h1> - -<h2>By Alan E. Nourse</h2> - -<p>Matt had to destroy the rocket because it<br /> -was a symbol of evil that had brought economic<br /> -disaster. But must he also destroy—the future?</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy<br /> -March 1954<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>It was well after dark when Matt Matthews got back down to the -headquarters camp, and saw the city stranger sitting there before -the fire. He knew he was a city man after a single glance at the -shiny, low-topped shoes and the reminiscence of a crease in the dusty -trousers. Matt tossed the gophers and the two small coyotes off his -broad shoulders to old Moe Arhelger, across the campfire, staring in -suspicious silence from the stranger to Moe and back again. "Who's he?" -he asked finally.</p> - -<p>"He wants to go down to the Ship," said Moe, tossing another stick -into the fire. He was a thin, wiry old man, with a white rim of beard -scraggling over his lean jaw. A short-bit pipe was clenched between a -set of very bad teeth. On his head was a torn, filthy old felt hat, -but his clear blue eyes held the silent confidence of authority. The -old man puffed quietly as he glanced up at the young giant who had -just arrived. "His name's Loevy—he says. Flew over from El Paso this -morning in a 'copter, just to see me. Even knew my name—"</p> - -<p>"Everybody in New Mexico knows your name," Matthews growled.</p> - -<p>The old man nodded, his eyes bright. "Mr. Loevy wants to go down to the -Ship tonight."</p> - -<p>Matt stared at the stranger's half-day stubble. Then he burst out -laughing. "That's what we all want to do, buddy. Just go down to the -Ship. That's all. Only trouble is, the Bulldog isn't ready to lay out -the welcome mat for us just yet." He glanced over at Moe. "Did the doc -say anything about Jack Abel?"</p> - -<p>"Jack's dead. Three slugs in the head."</p> - -<p>Matt's face darkened. He looked up at Loevy. "Jack wanted to go down to -the ship, too. Tried to go down quiet-like." He set about skinning the -first coyote, tossing the rest of the game to the group of silent men -sitting around the fire near Moe. "You're wasting your time, stranger. -Stick around a while. Be patient, like us. The Bulldog can't hold out -forever."</p> - -<p>Loevy ran a hand through his dark hair, watching Matthews with sharp -brown eyes. "I wasn't figuring on going down quiet-like," he said.</p> - -<p>Matt looked up as though seeing the man for the first time, his eyes -dark with suspicion. "Then how <i>do</i> you plan to go?" His hand moved to -the gun at his side, and he began massaging the stock with his huge paw.</p> - -<p>Loevy glanced at the gun without fear. "Under a truce flag," he said.</p> - -<p>Matthews spat. "Old man Gorham has command of four hundred men down at -the ship. They'll shoot anybody that comes close on sight." He looked -up at Moe, caught the old man's blue eyes sharply. "I don't like this -guy, Moe. I think we'd better take care of him."</p> - -<p>Moe shook his head. "Take it easy, Matt. The man thinks maybe he can -get this siege broken. Thinks Gorham may surrender if he knows what's -happened—in Washington, all over the country."</p> - -<p>Loevy nodded, bobbing his head eagerly. "I knew Gorham—before the -crash. He's an old-guard soldier, he'll honor a truce flag." His voice -was crisp in the still night air. "You want to get your hands on that -ship—that's all you want, the whole crowd of you out here. Nothing -else. So why risk a fight, risk getting killed, if I can get Gorham to -surrender to you?"</p> - -<p>Matt grinned unpleasantly. "Why do you think they call him the Bulldog? -He'll never give up—until we starve him out. We've got the time, and -the men, and the food. They can't last much longer—"</p> - -<p>Loevy frowned in annoyance. "I say you may not need to wait."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Matthews climbed to his feet and walked slowly over to the edge of the -rocks where the camp was situated. It was on the edge of the desert, -and down below sand and sage stretched for miles in the pale moonlight. -On either side he could see the flicker of the other campfires, forming -a huge circle, many miles in diameter. As he stood watching, his ear -unconsciously picked up the rustle of silent footsteps on the trail -leading to the nearest campfire away—the guard-line which closed the -circle tight. But he was not interested in the guard lines tonight. -They were well guarded, no one could get through them. There were -half a dozen dead soldiers lying out in the desert to attest to that, -soldiers who had tried to break through to the main highway during -the past three weeks. What held Matt's interest right now was the -huge cyclone-fence enclosure in the center of the circle of fires. -Inside the fence he could see the low, flat buildings of the Rocket -Development Project, and in the moonlight he could make out the lines -of the Ship itself, standing tall and lifeless in the darkness. He -watched it for a moment, and his fists clenched.</p> - -<p>He whirled back to the fire, lifting the city stranger up by the -collar, dragging his face up close to his. "Why do you want to go down -there?" he snarled.</p> - -<p>Loevy's face was purple, and he gasped for breath. "Because there's no -point in letting four hundred innocent men be slaughtered when you can -have the Ship without firing a gun. That's why!"</p> - -<p>"My but we're noble," Matt snapped. "What do you care how many are -killed? Who sent you here in the first place? Where did you get a -'copter to fly over here in?"</p> - -<p>Loevy shook himself free, glaring up at the giant standing over him. "I -stole a 'copter, if you have to know. And nobody sent me—"</p> - -<p>"How did you know we were here?"</p> - -<p>"Don't be a fool. The whole country knows you're here. Look, all I want -is a chance to talk to Gorham under a truce flag for fifteen minutes. -If I don't succeed, you don't lose a thing. What harm can it do?"</p> - -<p>Moe Arhelger spat into the fire. "Can't do no harm. And it might just -break this open for us, once and for all. Then we could go back home."</p> - -<p>"But if he's a spy—he could have word from reinforcements. Maybe the -Army's planning a march—"</p> - -<p>Loevy snorted. "The Army isn't planning anything. The Army is starving -to death. The nearest contingent is in San Diego, and they've got their -hands full just scouring the countryside for food. They've got no fuel -to come here with even if they felt like it—"</p> - -<p>Matt scowled. "He could still be a spy."</p> - -<p>Moe Arhelger nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing at the city man. Then he -looked up at Matt. "I know. That's why I want him to go down to the -Ship. With you along with him."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The trip down the mountainside was slow. It was almost a half an hour -before they reached the encampment at the bottom, on a gravel road -that led straight out to the Rocket site. The road was piled high with -rocks, and four men with old felt hats and plaid shirts sat in jeeps, -watching the road for a stir of life.</p> - -<p>Matt and Loevy commandeered a jeep, bounced down a gulley to by-pass -the road block, and started along the road toward the fenced enclosure. -A spotlight picked them up almost immediately, and Loevy hoisted a -white shirt up on a pole, waving it to catch the light. Then slowly -they drove ahead, until two more spotlights flashed on from the ship, -scanning the sage on either side of them, flickering in their faces as -they made their way along. Loevy sat tight-lipped, peering ahead into -the darkness. Matthews drove silently. He had never been this close to -Rocket Number Five before, but rockets were an old story to him. He -had worked on Number Three and Number Four during his two years in the -Labor Force. He knew quite enough about rockets.</p> - -<p>More lights went on as they approached the fence. Inside, off to -the left and right were buildings, the storerooms and offices of -the Project, and in the center, standing tall, with her lower third -enshrouded in scaffolding and canvas, stood the ship—</p> - -<p>Rocket Number Five. The last attempt, the straw that broke the camel's -back. Four great ships before it, crashing into heaps of rubble, -dragging the Earth down with them. And here the fifth, as yet unborn, -never to be launched. Matthews made a bitter sound in his throat. When -he thought of the horrible fifty-four days just past, he knew that his -hate for this Rocket ship and everything it stood for was right. Moe -was right, in his fanatical burning hatred of the old world which had -struggled blindly to launch its ships, and starved itself to do so. But -Moe wanted everything—the ships, the men, the government, everything. -Matthews only wanted the ship.</p> - -<p>He smiled grimly to himself. The garrison could not hold out much -longer. They had no food, and the ring of guerillas surrounding the -ship like a tight net would see that they got no food. It had been -a long wait—but soon they would struggle out, begging for food and -water, leaving the ship standing alone—</p> - -<p>To be wrecked, and ripped, and torn into a thousand bitter pieces—</p> - -<p>A soldier suddenly appeared in a spotlight inside the huge fence gate, -rifle half-raised in his hands. He let out a shout and brought the -rifle up to his shoulder. "Halt!"</p> - -<p>The jeep's tires screeched. Then Loevy raised the flag again and waved -it. "Truce," he called out. "We're unarmed."</p> - -<p>"What do you want?"</p> - -<p>"We want to talk to the Bulldog."</p> - -<p>There was a long pause as a conference was held back in the shadows. -Someone in the darkness ran out to join the gate guard. Then there was -a grating sound as the lock on the gate snapped open. The gate swung -out as five more soldiers encircled it from within, rifles cocked and -ready. "Leave the jeep outside. Come in with your hands raised."</p> - -<p>Slowly Matt and Loevy climbed out and walked forward. The soldiers -looked weary, their clothes filthy, their eyes bright with hate. They -watched the men as they walked in, and then closed around them, herding -them across to a long, low building. Lights went on, and Matt could -see the dim interior of a disused day room, the walls piled high with -supply cartons.</p> - -<p>"You wait," said one of the soldiers. "I'll see if the Colonel wants to -see you." He watched them carefully until the gate clanged shut. Then -he nodded to another guard, and disappeared into the darkness.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They did not wait long. The door burst open, and a short, squat, -grey-haired man strode into the room. Dressed in a T shirt and OD -pants, he was not an imposing figure, but there was no mistaking the -heavy shock of grey hair, the solid, sour set of the mouth, the wideset -eyes. The Bulldog of White Sands, they had called him. The man in -charge of administration of three Rocket Projects, the man who had -sworn that space would never defeat him. He glared at Matthews for a -moment, and then his glance shifted to Loevy, and his eyes widened.</p> - -<p>"Well," he said sourly. "I hardly expected to see <i>you</i> joining up with -these pigs."</p> - -<p>Loevy's eyes flickered in a tired smile. "So you remember me," he said.</p> - -<p>"I never forget a face." The Colonel stared at him with a stony -expression for a moment. "White Sands, April of 1993—two and a -half years ago, almost. Just after the third ship blew up. Name -is—umm—Loevy—"</p> - -<p>Loevy nodded. "That's right."</p> - -<p>The Colonel's eyes hardened. "You were with a crowd that was trying to -talk the government into junking the Rocket projects—right?"</p> - -<p>"That's right. We predicted the impending crash even then—"</p> - -<p>"Hogwash," said the Colonel. "A lot of statistical blather."</p> - -<p>"Unfortunately, statistics is a scientific technique, and our -predictions were not blather. We predicted the crash almost to the day. -We said the 30th of July, 1995. We had no way of predicting the Iranian -oil decision, which happened last April. That precipitated the crisis -by a month, so it came on the first of July instead of the thirtieth. -But socio-mathematics were far beyond the blather stage then. We hope -we can still salvage something from the country now."</p> - -<p>The old soldier blinked at him. "What do you want, Loevy?"</p> - -<p>"I've come to ask you to surrender the Ship and march your men out of -here."</p> - -<p>Colonel Gorham snorted. "My orders were to guard and protect this -rocket, down to the last man if necessary. On the sixth of July, a week -after the crash, I had orders direct from the President to hold this -Ship at any cost. He warned me then that there'd be mobs, maybe even an -attempt to storm the enclosure." He scowled angrily. "They'll never get -this ship as long as I'm alive."</p> - -<p>"And have you heard from the President since the sixth?" Loevy's voice -was smooth.</p> - -<p>"I have not."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps that's because the President was hanged on the White House -lawn the day after he called you. Quite a mob was there. The food pinch -was just beginning to be felt. And that was forty-seven days ago—" He -glanced up at the Colonel's white face. "Oh, I'm not lying to you. It -happened. Have you had <i>any</i> communications recently?"</p> - -<p>"How could I? They cut the telephone cables, and we can't get anything -but hysterical nonsense from our radio sets—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Has it occurred to you that many things may have happened in the -course of this last month?" Loevy's voice was sharp in the still room.</p> - -<p>"I'll hold this Ship until things get straightened out," the Colonel -snapped.</p> - -<p>"Colonel—<i>things aren't going to straighten out</i>. This isn't just a -little depression we're in now, it isn't a small business recession -that will just up and stabilize soon. This is an economic crash that -has thrown the world back a thousand years. We may <i>never</i> recover -from the crash that came on the first of July. The government is -gone, Colonel. <i>There isn't any government.</i> The army has dissolved -into the hills, hunting for food. The only money with any value is -being paid out by the hospitals for blood to restock their banks. -And without money there isn't any food. The people in the cities are -starving—standing in the streets starving because food isn't coming -in. Communications are out, there isn't any commercial traffic—"</p> - -<p>"I have a stockpile of emergency rations a mile high, and I have four -hundred men who aren't running around in the hills," the Colonel -snarled. "I have a job to do, and I'm doing it—"</p> - -<p>"But you're guarding an empty shell! Look, the people don't know all -the reasons for the collapse. They don't know the whole picture—but -they know one thing. They know they've been taxed beyond endurance, -their gasoline has been requisitioned, their boys taken for military -and labor service, their money devaluated again and again so that the -government could get a Rocket off the Earth before the Asians did. And -they know that now the whole world has fallen in a heap, and they're -starving to death. And they know that this Rocket was being worked on -when the crash came. They want it, Colonel. They are going to get it, -too. They need a scapegoat for these fifty-four days, and this Rocket -is it! And there won't <i>be</i> any recovery as long as the ship stands."</p> - -<p>He stared at the Colonel, and then made a hopeless gesture. "You don't -believe me, do you? You think that it's just a matter of time until -things stabilize, and everything will be back to normal, don't you? -Well, it won't Colonel. Do you know what they are calling the date, -out there? The Fifty-Fourth of July! Fifty-four days since the crash, -and things are getting worse every day. Even time has stood still; -they've forgotten to use the calendar. There'll never be a world like -you knew before, Colonel—but the agony and suffering and chaos must be -paid for, somehow, and the Rocket is the price. Until the whole world -knows that the Rocket is utterly destroyed, there will be no faith in -government or people or anything else."</p> - -<p>Loevy glanced nervously at Matthews, towering against the wall watching -the discussion sourly. Then he looked back at the Colonel and leaned -forward. "Let them take the ship. There are things here far more -precious than any single rocket ship could ever be. You know what I -mean. If you resist, they'll get the ship and <i>everything else</i>—"</p> - -<p>The Colonel's eyes moved to Matthews' heavy face, and then back to -Loevy. Suddenly his face looked very tired. "That's a chance I'll have -to take," he said wearily. "You're wasting your time, Loevy."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Later, around the campfire, Matt stared gloomily at old Moe Arhelger. -"I tell you, I don't like it," he said. "I just don't like it."</p> - -<p>The old man cocked sharp eyes across the fire. "I don't see that any -harm was done. We gave the Bulldog his last chance. He didn't care to -take it. That suits me fine. Now he can watch out."</p> - -<p>Matt shook his head sharply. "That isn't what I mean. I didn't like the -looks of the place. It looked too much like a going concern. Gorham was -too damned confident."</p> - -<p>"Did you ever see a garrison commander who wasn't?"</p> - -<p>"But Gorham is no fool. He knows we've got this encampment sewed up. He -knows he can't get out and neither can his men. He knows there won't -be any supplies coming in for him." Matt rubbed his chin thoughtfully. -"And the look of the place—the look of the ship. I couldn't see much, -of course, but it didn't look right—"</p> - -<p>The old man's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"</p> - -<p>Matt's forehead creased into a worried frown. "I don't know. I think -they're trying to complete the Rocket for a flight."</p> - -<p>"But that's crazy!" Moe exploded. "They don't have the supplies, they -don't have the calculator power, they haven't got power for anything. -We've seen to that. Gasoline generators for their spotlights—nothing -else."</p> - -<p>"I know, I know—it doesn't make sense." Matt shot a glance at Loevy, -crouched at a nearby fire, and he lowered his voice. "And there was -something Loevy said—about something more valuable than the ship -itself—Look, Moe, we don't know how far the Ship had gone before the -crash. Maybe all the calculations were completed."</p> - -<p>Moe stared at the fire for a long moment. A tall, lanky man stumbled -up the trail by flashlight, sending down a shower of pebbles. He -stopped before the fire. "All quiet, Moe. They closed up shop after the -delegation left."</p> - -<p>Moe nodded to the man. "Tell Mike to alert his men, Tommy. Get -everybody looking alive."</p> - -<p>"What's up? Something about to break?"</p> - -<p>The old man scowled. "I don't know. But I want everyone awake. Got it?"</p> - -<p>The guard nodded, and vanished down the trail again. Moe turned to -Matthews, a queer look in his eyes. "What do you think, Matt?"</p> - -<p>"I think our time is running out," said Matthews.</p> - -<p>"Maybe you worry too much."</p> - -<p>"Maybe."</p> - -<p>Moe's eyes blazed. "They <i>can't</i> try to launch it," he snarled. "It's -got to be smashed—smashed so hard they'll never dare try to make -another one—" His hand clenched on his rifle until the knuckles were -white.</p> - -<p>Matt leaned forward eagerly. "Let me go down there, Moe. We've got -dynamite. I could find a way to climb the fence, maybe, and start the -works off. Once something went bang from the inside and broke their -control of the place, we could mop them up."</p> - -<p>Moe's hand relaxed. "You'd never make it alive."</p> - -<p>"Somebody's got to try. There isn't much time, I'm sure of it—"</p> - -<p>"All right. Try it. But before you go, you've got a visitor. I think -you'd better talk to her."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The girl was waiting in his tent, sitting alone in the darkness. She -looked up into the flashlight beam, and there were wet streaks of dust -on her cheeks. "Matt? Is that you?" She stumbled to her feet. "Oh, -Matt—"</p> - -<p>"Mary!" The big man stared at his wife, his eyes wide. "Mary, what are -you doing <i>here</i>? How did you get here, why did you come?" He took -her in his arms, held her tight as she pressed her face against his -chest, sobbing. Then suddenly he straightened up, held her out at arm's -length, staring into her large brown eyes. "Mary—the farm—"</p> - -<p>She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks, and shook her -head miserably. "Gone. City people from San Diego—they came one night, -they took it—"</p> - -<p>A numbness ran down his spine as he stared at her. "But Dad and -Johnny—"</p> - -<p>"They never had a chance." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, her -voice faltering. "It was a crowd of men, maybe ten of them, came across -the land about eight o'clock one night. They shot your Dad when he -walked out on the porch. Shot him through the head. Then they came -in the house and beat Johnny to death. Oh, Matt—it was horrible. -They shot the cow and cooked her over an open fire. You should have -seen them—they were starving, they were like wild men, calling us -land-grabbers and food-hoarders. I sneaked out the back way when they -weren't looking and ran down to the road to Escondido and found Harry -Davis. He and a bunch of the boys had stolen some gas and were planning -to drive over the mountains to join you here. They sent word around to -the other farmers, and then they brought me along—"</p> - -<p>Matt stood numbly, staring at the girl's face. "Mary, you shouldn't -have come here, you should have gone to the folks in town—they would -have helped you, taken care of you—"</p> - -<p>The girl whirled on him, her eyes pleading. "Oh, Matt, come away from -here, come out of this horrible fight and come home! What does it -matter if there's a Rocket out here—we can't eat Rockets, we need -food. The City folks are coming out in hordes. There was a man said -the water supply wasn't going to last to the north, that the cars were -lined up three deep from the coast clear out to Salt-Lake, bumper to -bumper, a week ago. They stole gasoline from the refineries, before -they blew them up. They're all heading east and north—oh, Matt, take -me home—"</p> - -<p>He stood there in the dim light of the flashlight, and then knelt -down beside her, holding her against him. "I can't, Mary. Not yet," -he said softly. "The world we knew before was crazy. This Rocket was -crazy—this being afraid of war, and fighting to out-do the rest of the -world was crazy, somehow—"</p> - -<p>She stared at him. "But everybody knew that if we didn't get there -first, the others would. And there would have been a horrible war, the -end of everything—"</p> - -<p>"Everyone was so busy being afraid of the war that they couldn't see -what was happening to the world around them. They didn't see that -something worse than a war could happen until it was too late. They -figured the oil would last another hundred years, and it only lasted -twenty. They thought they could go on like this forever—" He stared -blankly out at the darkness, his eyes hollow. "It was that Rocket that -did it. That's why we have to destroy it."</p> - -<p>"Matt, if we don't go now we won't have any home left to go to. Those -people don't know how to farm, they'll kill all the animals, and strip -the trees and fields, and burn all the buildings—"</p> - -<p>He shook his head, hardly able to put into words the bitterness in -his heart. "It won't do any good to go back, without destroying the -Rocket. It's the last remnant of the old world—standing out there—the -world that led us to <i>this</i>. It's poisonous, it's evil. There'll never -be recovery unless the ship is wiped out." He looked down into her -frightened eyes, rubbed her shoulders gently. "Don't be afraid. It -won't be long. I'm going out there tonight. I'm going to blow that -Rocket into a million pieces."</p> - -<p>She clung to him like a child, shaking her head helplessly. "You will -be killed, I know you will be killed, <i>please</i>, Matt—Oh, if anything -happens to you, I—I won't know what to do, I can't let you go—"</p> - -<p>"I've got to, Mary."</p> - -<p>Her voice was very small. "And when it's over—?"</p> - -<p>"We'll manage somehow. I don't know how. It doesn't really matter now. -I don't know what kind of a world we'll have when it's all over, but I -know that I'm going out to get that Ship. If it's the only thing I ever -do that's right."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He went out alone. He tried to force out of his mind the account Mary -had brought of the butchery back home, concentrating on one thing, and -one thing only. The Ship had to be destroyed. Standing out there in the -desert, it was the symbol of all that was wrong with a world that had -somehow, abruptly, been left behind. Matt saw it in black and white, -bitterly, a cause and effect relationship. He could neither rationalize -it or deny it. But somehow, he felt, by destroying the Ship he could -wipe out a past too horrible even to think about. He knew he had to do -it.</p> - -<p>Matthews moved quietly through the blackness. The sandy soil was caked -and hard under his feet, and the moon had just gone under the horizon -to the West. Far ahead he could see the feeble guard lights of the -enclosure, and he stopped, panting, staring at the tiny figures pacing -back and forth. He had grown used to moving cautiously through the -desertland without making a sound; now he concentrated on silence for -his very life, and the only sound in his ears was the jogging of the -dynamite pack on his shoulders.</p> - -<p>He circled slowly, making for the section of the fencing closest to the -ship. He knew there would be few lights, since precious gasoline had -to run generators to provide any at all. He had examined the gates as -they had opened earlier in the evening, and felt certain there was no -break-circuit alarm on the fence. Power, again. Only for the barest, -most critical essentials. And with four hundred men available, eyesight -was the best way to guard the fence—</p> - -<p>The heavy metal wire appeared suddenly in the gloom, and he fell flat -on his face in a little gulley as the tread of a guard's feet sounded -from a distance. A small flashlight flicked on and off as the footsteps -approached. Matt hugged the ground, holding his breath as the soldier -moved silently by. Then he was up against the fence, dragging the -climbers from his pockets, strapping them onto his boots. Cutting the -heavy fencing wire was out of the question—the sound would ring out in -the stillness like a pistol shot. But the barbed wire at the top could -be cut with only a small sound. He struggled up the bare fence, a few -inches at a time.</p> - -<p>It seemed like hours. He knew the guard's timing down to the second, -and he worked himself up, panting. It was the dog-watch; the men would -not be too alert, even men fighting for their lives—</p> - -<p>He clung to the fence with one hand, and snapped the four barbed -strands with a hand tool, felt them curl away with a <i>ping</i>. He dragged -his body up and caught his knee on the top of the fence. In an instant -he had dropped to the ground inside the enclosure—</p> - -<p>On his feet, he crouched and ran for the tall, dark ship. The -intervening buildings provided him cover. Down one of the concrete -streets a dozen men were huddled around a small fire near the gate, -talking and laughing. Matt slipped across the street, and saw the -ship's mammoth scaffolding rise up in the darkness.</p> - -<p>It was a beautiful ship, tall and silvery, enshrouded like a statue -waiting to be unveiled. He glanced about the grounds around, and -his eyes widened. Great tanks of fuel stood nearby, recently-opened -cartons of supplies were everywhere in evidence. A huge pile of oxygen -cylinders formed a heavy pyramid. Matthews walked over to one of the -open crates, peered into it. Heavy material, plastic, metal—</p> - -<p>Space suits.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He opened the pack on his back, drew out the bundles of dynamite -carefully, separated them from the coil of wire to the small detonator. -Somewhere in the distance he heard talking, and he hurried his -movements. Finally the deadly bundles were free.</p> - -<p>As he stooped to duck under the first tier of the scaffolding a bright -light flashed on above him, and an alarm bell started clanging. He -cursed, and ran like a cat under the scaffolding, up to the great -silvery fin of the ship. Of course, he should have thought that if -there was no circuit alarm on the fence there surely would be one -around the ship. Far away a roar of voices rose up, and shouts, the -pummel of running feet. Frantically he thrust a dynamite charge under -one of the fins of the ship, then ran to a second and laid another -charge. A rifle cracked somewhere, and another, and he darted into the -piles of boxes, unreeling the detonator wire as he ran. There were -hoarse shouts all about him now. He ducked into a huge empty crate, not -fifty feet from the charges. Huddling down in it for protection, he -connected wires to the battery, and slammed down the plunger—</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The shock wave hit him before the sound did, picking up the crate like -a pill-box hurling Matthews head over heels. The roar burst in his -ears, striking him like a palpable wall, and a shout of despair went up -among the soldiers. Matt stood up, then, staring up at the great metal -hulk. There was a heavy rushing sound and the ship faltered, shaking -like a giant aspen leaf, and slowly began to tip—</p> - -<p>It struck the ground with a deafening crash, a grating of torn metal -and the screech of broken, twisted planks. Something exploded into -a pillar of fire—and then, in the distance Matthews saw flashes of -fire from the desert, heard rifles cracking. A soldier, running to the -fence, saw him and raised his rifle, wild eyes reflecting the fire. -Matthews dove for him, threw him back with a grunt as the rifle cracked -into the air. And then the compound was wild with the sound of running, -shouting men.</p> - -<p>Matthews ran for a huge truck standing near the fallen ship. He -threw himself up into the cab, gunning the motor to a roar. Then the -gears grated and the truck started forward, straight for the crowd -of soldiers lining up at the fence. Matt gripped the steering wheel, -leaning as low as possible, throwing the huge truck at the fence with -all its power. The impact nearly threw him through the windshield; he -heard a grating as the wire bunged out and the fence-posts snapped. -Shifting into compound low, he drove the truck through the fence like a -bulldozer.</p> - -<p>And then, all around him, the men from outside were pouring through the -break, screaming in triumph, rifles cracking. A horde of them came, and -the soldiers fell back, bewildered, shooting wildly, running in circles -of panic as the angry mob poured through. And then Matt felt the first -wave of shock pass through him. Wearily he dropped his head against the -dash-board, gasping for breath. He knew that the ship was taken.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He did not know how long he was unconscious. Fires were burning in a -dozen buildings around him, and he could hear the screams and shouts -of the raiders. Dark figures rushed wildly by, silhouetted against the -orange flames. Matt crawled down from the truck as four men ran by with -crowbars, shouting at the top of their lungs. Matt stared at the crowd -surrounding the fallen ship, shouting, raising torches high in the dark -night—</p> - -<p>He watched for a long moment, but something flickered in his mind. It -was a picture of mad, frantic destruction on all sides of him, but -something was whispering softly in his ear. Loevy's words. Loevy's -intense face. <i>There is something far more precious than any one Rocket -ship here</i>—</p> - -<p>Staring at the screaming mob, Matthews suddenly knew what Loevy had -meant. A wrecking crew was at work on the ship, savagely venting their -pent-up rage and fear and frustration on the inanimate metal, wrenching -hull plates off with violent screeches, ripping and slicing stanchions -with blow-torches hissing. A dozen people were streaming in and out -of the air-lock, dragging couches, springs, chunks of instrument -panel, hoards of supplies, oxygen tanks. The crowd was exultant, the -fire-light shining on a thousand wild faces, maddened by the lust of -destruction. But Matthews stared, and the feeling of sickness and -revulsion grew hard in the pit of his stomach.</p> - -<p>He turned and started over toward the buildings. The deed was done, but -horror was still at large in the world. He didn't know what the future -held—and yet, somehow now he didn't want to join the insane fury at -work ripping the Rocket to shreds. Loevy's words nagged at his mind, -and he made his way between the burning buildings, feeling the desert -breeze turned hot in his face, until he saw the concrete and stone -administration building up ahead.</p> - -<p><i>We hope maybe we can still salvage something....</i></p> - -<p>As Matt walked through the doorway of the headquarters office he -stopped short, stiffening to the sound of a forty-five booming in the -room before him.</p> - -<p>There was Moe, his back half to the door, holding the still smoking -automatic in his hand.</p> - -<p>And Matt's eyes went from Moe to a long row of filing cabinets against -the far wall. Beside a partially open drawer a figure slumped against -the side of the cabinet, hands clutching at a sheaf of papers inside -the drawer. It was the Bulldog, the colonel himself. But even as Matt -stared wide-eyed, the colonel let out a rasping sigh and fell to the -floor.</p> - -<p>He lay still beside another body—that of Loevy.</p> - -<p>"Moe!"</p> - -<p>Moe turned as Matt strode into the room. There was an angry look on the -old man's face.</p> - -<p>"A spy, that's what he was—you were right, Matt. I caught him in -here with the Bulldog. They were talking and going through the files -together—looked like they were planning on skipping out. Fat chance!" -Moe laughed mirthlessly. "Whatever they were looking for they won't use -now. And nobody else will. Got a match, Matt? I'm going to burn this -place to the ground!"</p> - -<p>Matt stared from the dead bodies to Moe and over to the cabinet with -the drawer still half open. He saw the sheaf of papers the Bulldog had -been holding just before he died. He remembered again what Loevy had -said—<i>there is something far more precious than any one Rocket ship -here</i>—</p> - -<p>"Moe—you're missing out on the fun at the Ship!" Matt said suddenly, -intensely.</p> - -<p>"I'll get out there. But first I got to—"</p> - -<p>"Let me do it, Moe.—I'd enjoy seeing them two burn together. Afterall, -it isn't much of a favor to ask...."</p> - -<p>Moe looked at him curiously for a moment, then shrugged. "Why not? If -it wasn't for you we wouldn't be in here at all tonight. Go ahead. I'll -meet you at the Ship. Make a nice big fire!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And then Moe was gone and Matt stood alone in the room. He stood -and stared down at the dead bodies; Loevy's face showing fear and -frustration just as it must have when Moe's bullet found his heart; the -Colonel, slumped partially across Loevy's body, the Bulldog face in a -tight angry knot, even in death. The colonel had been a brave man, a -tough one. Matt wished suddenly that he had not had to die.</p> - -<p>He crossed hurriedly to the file and pulled the sheaf of papers from -the drawer. A sheaf of blue papers—blue papers with white lines....</p> - -<p>Blue-prints!</p> - -<p>That was what Loevy had meant. The calculations had been completed, the -blue-prints made. The ship had been almost completed, and now it was -destroyed—</p> - -<p><i>But the blue-prints remained</i>—</p> - -<p>Here were the hopes and dreams of centuries. Here were the plans, the -specifications, the construction plans. Fifty years of the Earth's -resources, and now the project they had planned and specified was being -destroyed in a single night, the night of the fifty-fourth of July—</p> - -<p>He stared at the prints, his whole body trembling. He hated the Rocket, -he hated everything it had ever stood for in the old world before the -crash. It had stripped him of his home, robbed him of his future. It -had robbed the whole world of its heritage, and he hated it.</p> - -<p>And yet, to go to the planets had always been man's great dream. The -ship could be destroyed without utterly destroying the dream. Because -someday, somehow, men could take these precious papers, sometime when -the world was sane again, and build another ship—</p> - -<p>His mind rushed back to his boyhood days, and he remembered sharply -the lure of the open spaces he had felt then. Someday, he had dreamed, -he would build a rocket to the Moon, and go out there to explore and -discover. It hadn't mattered what he would explore, what he would -discover. All that had mattered was the urge to go. An urge he had -shared with thousands of men—</p> - -<p>He hadn't known then that the goal would crush the world into a -smoking ruin far worse than any war. A crash that brought slow death -by starvation, a crash that wrenched the livelihood from the mouths -of millions, a crash that demoralized them and drove them back to the -caves to work and fight like savages for a few morsels of bread. He -hadn't known that—because it wasn't really necessary that it happen. -Men could, someday, find a way to go out without bankrupting the world -to do it—</p> - -<p>He searched frantically, found a huge pasteboard box. He had seen -others moving through the torchlight with boxes filled full of loot. He -began loading the blue-prints into it, breathlessly, glancing over his -shoulder for fear someone might come in. He reached into his pocket, -drew out his revolver and placed it on the cabinet beside him as he -worked. Let them burn the buildings and tear up the Ship—but they must -not destroy these papers. Let the Rocket Project be dead, utterly dead, -torn to shreds by the people of this strange twilight world, but <i>the -dream need not die</i>—</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He heard a sound behind him, and he whirled, staring up into Moe -Arhelger's bearded face. The old man stood there, a strange light in -his wild eyes, staring first at Matt, then at the blue papers in the -box. "I see now why you wanted to be alone!" He looked up at Matt, a -long, slow, savage look. "Dump it, Matt," he said, motioning to the box.</p> - -<p>Matthews' arm tightened around the carton. "I want these," he said -softly. "You've got your Rocket, Moe. They'll never build another one—"</p> - -<p>"<i>I said dump it.</i>" There was a harsh edge to the old man's voice. -"We're cleaning the place out. Everything. There'll never be another -one, never, as long as the world lives."</p> - -<p>"But what do you care about these?" Matt cried. "You'll be dead long -before they ever try Rockets again."</p> - -<p>"They're evil!" the old man snarled. "Everything about them is evil. -They've dragged us down into the dirt, down so far we'll never be able -to crawl up again—" His rifle levelled, slowly. "Throw those prints on -the floor, Matt. Touch a match to them, right here. Or I'll burn them -for you."</p> - -<p>Slowly Matt turned, lifted up the box. It was heavy; his eyes flicked -to the old man, and he rested the box gently on the bench for a moment. -And then he threw it in the old man's face, and snatched up the -revolver from the bench. He fired four times, and the old man doubled -over and pitched forward on his face, groaning. Matt kicked the rifle -across the room, throwing the blue-prints back into the box. Panting, -he shot out the light, and fled across the compound toward the opened -gate.</p> - -<p>Somewhere out there Mary would be waiting. And maybe Loevy's group was -still alive, somewhere, maybe they still knew a way toward recovery now -that the Rocket was destroyed. The fifty-four days of chaos might be -over now. They would know what to do with the precious box. It would be -in safe hands until men were ready to build again.</p> - -<p>Matt ran through the gate and into the shadows outside the compound. -In the flickering light of the flames behind him he could make out a -figure approaching.</p> - -<p>"Matt! Oh, Matt—you're safe!"</p> - -<p>It was Mary, and he felt a gladness sweep through him. She grabbed his -arms then, her eyes tear-filled with relief. She glanced down at the -box he held closely against him. "Matt, what's that?"</p> - -<p>He motioned her toward the deeper shadows and a jeep he saw standing -unguarded. His voice was grim as he answered her. "It's for the future, -Mary ... the future."</p> - -<p>Moments later they drove away into the night.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIFTY-FOURTH OF JULY ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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