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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..7c62cc2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66324 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66324) diff --git a/old/66324-0.txt b/old/66324-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c3a4a76..0000000 --- a/old/66324-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,856 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Pariah, by Milton Lesser - -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: Pariah - -Author: Milton Lesser - -Release Date: September 17, 2021 [eBook #66324] - -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 PARIAH *** - - - - - PARIAH - - By Milton Lesser - - Harry spent three years in space waiting - to get home to Earth--and his family. They were - waiting for him too--that is, for his corpse.... - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy - April 1954 - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Captain Greene shook his shaggy head and studied Allerton with patient -eyes. "You're making a mistake," he said. "You'll be back." - -The inside of the spaceship was quiet now, not with the silence of the -tomb, but with the silence of barely inaudible echoes as if Allerton -might still be able to hear the crew clomping about the companionways -on metal-shod feet if only he knew how to listen. He buried the notion -under the sweet anticipation of homecoming and said, "I don't think so, -Captain. This is what I want, right here." He tapped the comforting -bulk of his wallet, bulging the metallic cloth of his tunic. - -He was a gaunt, comical figure of a man, so long and lean that he -stooped slightly at the waist and again at the shoulders, with a long, -down-tipped nose which almost seemed to meet the thin-lipped mouth as -he spoke. "What about you, Captain?" he said. He was still savoring the -joy of his own return, letting it build up inside him like a slow fire -fanned by barely enough air to keep it kindled. He hardly cared whether -Captain Greene disembarked or not, but the captain's unexpected lack -of enthusiasm was a splendid counter-point for his own emotions and he -wanted to wring every last drop of joy from his homecoming. "All the -men are gone," he went on. "This is Earth, Captain." - -"I don't leave the ship much these days, Allerton. I've got to complete -the log, you know, then do a little advance astronauting for the trip -out. Anyway, none of the others are spacemen, Allerton. An old spacedog -like me can smell 'em a mile away--the real ones. You've got the -makings, all right." - -"You won't see me aboard the _Eros_ again, though. I grew up in the -depression of the eighties, Captain. What I'm looking for is security. -I've got it right here--enough to start a business of my own and give -my kid the kind of education he needs these days. Three years is a -long time, but I tried to be a good spaceman." - -"You were the best." - -"Those kids running around after adventure, they'll be back. They're -made for this life. They're too young and having too much fun to start -thinking much about security. But now, you take me...." - -"You'll have to make the decision yourself," Captain Greene -admitted, leaning back comfortably with a cigar and reaching for his -leather-bound log, his stubby fingers almost caressing the leaves with -a love nurtured on long familiarity. "We blast off in a week," he said. -"Enough time for you to decide, I guess." - -"But I've already decided, sir." Allerton turned to go, stooping -forward even more than usual to fit through the low doorway which, like -anything else in the tight confines of a spaceship, was not made to -accommodate his gangling figure. - -"Well, don't forget this. You're wrong about the others. They're not -for space, not the way you are. It's a common misconception. Good luck, -Allerton." - -But Allerton was already on his way down the companionway with its -ghost-noises which he no longer could hear. He wondered what it really -took to make a man happy, truly happy over a sustained period. The -flitting stolen moments of a spaceman's life, he knew, could never be -for him. Yet outside the rain drummed down drearily on the gray apron -of the landing pit and washed over Allerton with an ineffable sadness. - - * * * * * - -The reporters were waiting for him down below, huddled together under a -bobbing sea of umbrellas. He failed to understand why anyone should be -waiting in the rain like that. - -"I'm from the _Star-Herald_," one of the umbrella-shrouded faces told -him, the voice steady and without highlight, like the rain. "Have you -heard the news yet?" - -"News?" demanded Allerton as he went down the ramp to the apron and was -soon swallowed up by the sea of umbrellas. - -"You're Allerton, aren't you?" - -An aisle was cleared as Allerton drew a slicker from his duffle and -pulled it across his shoulders. Flash-cameras glared briefly against -the dusky sky, making him blink his eyes uncomfortably. - -"Yes, I'm Allerton, but I haven't heard any news." - -It was a woman's voice this time, sharp and precise as a pencil point. -"The _Eros_ was gone for three years, Mr. Allerton, on a one year -trip. Sixteen months ago you were presumed to be lost. You were legally -dead a year ago." - -"Here I am," said Allerton foolishly. "Here we are." He wished they -would all go away so he could check in at the administration building. -He thought that the copter-cabs might be grounded by the low ceiling -and realized his homecoming, two years tardy, would be delayed still -further because it would take him hours to get home to his wife and -son. "We had some trouble in the Jovian Moons," he said unnecessarily, -for the rest of the crew must have made that fact known by now. -"Really, I'm no hero." - -It had been largely through Allerton's efforts, as noncommissioned -officer in charge of maintenance and repair, that the _Eros_ had -been able to blast off from Io at all. It was a moment he had not -considered, this hero's welcome. His picture and the story of his -exploits might appear on the video newscasts even before he reached -Nancy and the boy. But now that he had stooped low to be included -in the protection of the umbrellas, he could see the faces of the -reporters. - -This was no hero's welcome. Allerton waited for what was to come with -a growing sense of the ridiculous. He had been almost ready to sign -autographs. - -"Hasn't anyone told you your wife has re-married, Mr. Allerton?" - -The rain marched across the umbrellas with incessantly scurrying feet. -The space below them was heavy with cigarette smoke, like a small, -poorly-ventilated room, and with the muted sound of many voices, keyed -low--anxious but objective. Allerton could almost see the scores of -pencils, ready to pounce upon the blank pages of the ruled pads and -scribble his name across the hemisphere, the world. - -"What are you telling me?" demanded Allerton. He had heard. Even now -the words were etching themselves in his brain, stirring old memories, -conjuring impossible visions. This was the sort of thing you saw on the -video-casts and tch-tch'd about, then went upstairs with your wife and -took her in your arms and thought, are the people that happens to real? - -"Mrs. Allerton was married again ten months ago. In an interview this -morning she said she was glad you were alive but loved her husband, -her new husband I mean, that is, the man she married because she -thought you were dead." It was the girl-reporter again, the brittle, -pencil-point quality gone from her voice. - -Allerton subdued a wild impulse to say something flippant. Suddenly, it -was as if he had indeed died out there in space and now he was a ghost, -coming home to haunt people who wanted only to forget. The reporters -expected him to say something, though. Tell them that he had spent -three years in space, hating every minute of it, to find security for -his family? Tell them he had risked his life to repair the ship on Io -because if he failed the government insurance would provide for his -family? Tell them he was now dead, really dead as Nancy had thought, -and they were wasting their time interviewing a ghost? - -"Have you any plans, Mr. Allerton?" - -"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." The rain had slackened. He heard his -own heart, hammering in his throat and ears. - -"What are your plans for the future, Mr. Allerton? Are you going to -contest the marriage legally? Will you see your wife at all?" - -"I don't know," said Allerton mechanically. "I don't know. I don't -know. I don't know." He pushed his way through the crowd of reporters, -a tall but stooped figure, averting his eyes from the umbrella ribs. -He had been married to Nancy only six months before shipping out, had -received word about the birth of their son at the last mail-station on -Ceres. If she sought the same security he wanted, he could not find it -in his heart to condemn her. He was dead. He had been waiting to live -all his life, but now he was dead. - - * * * * * - -"All right, spacer. On your feet. We're closing." - -His bleary eyes squinted. _It was Johnny this and Johnny that and -Johnny_ ... Kipling? Someone? - -"We got nothing against spacers here, only when we close, we close. -I'll make you something to eat if you want, but that's it." - -"No. No, thank you." - -"A bit too much to drink, eh?" - -"I'll be O.K. I'm sorry if I--" - -"Forget it. Here, let me help you to the door. Easy, now." - -He was outside, the duffle balanced on his lean shoulder, the misty -drizzle chilling him at once, the wet sidewalk casting his reflection -and alternately swallowing and elongating his shadow as he made his way -down the street past the spaced lamplights. - -Sooner or later, he would see her. He had to see her and the child, who -was now almost three years old. But what did you do, walk in the front -door and say hello Mrs. (name of new husband), I'm the man you used -to be married to? Perhaps, he thought, you wrote a letter instead, a -dear-John in reverse. But that way you did not get to see the boy. - -Certainly, you saw none of your old friends. Tough luck, old fellow. -Something about more fish in the sea. Pat your back and introduce you -to two or three one-tracked-minded bachelor girls as the conquering -hero from Io and other faraway places. And you did not even venture -into the old neighborhood until you were ready for the quick sally, the -first visit to Nancy and the boy (and the new husband?) and departure. - -Nancy loved her husband, the girl-reporter said. Nancy had loved him. -Simple logic: Nancy loved husbands, present tense. Security. What he -sought. Safe in a circumscribed world, in comfortable, middle-class -conformity, free and clear of all intrusions except the mortgage and -the payments on the new copter and scraped knees for junior. - -He wondered how many bars he had visited, starting with the spaceport -administration building. There was a hazy recollection of copter-cabs -and surface-cabs, of smiling, vapid faces and other smiling faces, -not vapid, when the video-cast appeared on a television screen in -one of the bars and there he was, squinting against the flash-camera -glare, the rain seeping through the roof of umbrellas and rolling down -his long, gaunt face and off the thin, long, drooping nose. And then -someone recognized him or he recognized himself and drunkenly announced -his identity, he wasn't sure which, and someone had bought drinks for -everyone celebrating Allerton's return to blessed bachelorhood and they -all had a fine old time except Allerton who had soon taken his leave -and another cab and another bar. - -Now the streets were familiar. There was the long, low bulk of the -pie-wedge supermarket, big and wide in front and tapering in the rear, -with great sweep of thermo-glass window staring at him and reflecting -him in the lamplight so he could stare at himself. - -And there was the schoolyard playground, deserted now, the swings -wet and the teeter-totters dripping and the slicky-slide glistening. -What does a man think about when he's out in space and knows he -probably won't return? thought Allerton. About slicky-slides and a boy -hollering in glee with an unknown voice out of an unknown face. And -there were the apartment buildings, flanking their courtyard with -the look of solid strength that only brick can give in this age of -glass and plaster. He wondered if Nancy still had their old Republic -family-copter parked on the roof near the television antenna, and then -it suddenly occurred to him that Nancy might not be living here at all. - -He wouldn't visit her, not yet. It was curiosity and not longing which -made him enter the courtyard and the lobby of the second building on -the left, past the dark, perfectly-cropped rows of California privet -which in another few months would lose their glossy leaves to the -coming of winter. - -The illuminated dial of his wrist-watch told him it was 0230, hardly -the time to go calling on a woman and her new husband and a child -he had never seen. But there was the name, his name, opposite the -apartment number on the call-phone. Allerton, with a hyphen after -it, and the name Chambers. The widow Allerton lived here with her -new husband, the legally declared widow Allerton who probably still -received some mail and some callers under the old name but would one -day soon be able to take Allerton and the hyphen out and leave Chambers -alone. Nancy Chambers, his wife. - -He pressed the buzzer and then drew back, startled. He was about -to leave the lobby and run out between the rows of privet and keep -on running when he heard his wife's voice, metallically, over the -call-phone. "Yes? Who is it?" - -He walked back and stared at the rows of names and buzzers. "Harry," he -said. - -There was a sob, a sucking in of breath. "I'll come right down." - -"I'm coming up." - -It was simple. It was as simple as waiting for the buzzer, opening the -door, waiting for the elevator, pressing another button, waiting to be -carried to the twelfth floor, waiting for the door to slide, walking -across the hall to the apartment door, waiting for it to open, waiting, -waiting, waiting.... - - * * * * * - -"I hoped you would come, Harry. Really, I wanted to see you. You're -looking well." - -"You're looking well, too." She was. She wore a dressing gown of -some gossamer material over her flannel pajamas. She'd never liked -nightgowns. - -"Nice trip back?" - -"Long one." - -"Weather bad? No, there's no weather up there." - -"I can't complain." - -"Did you have anything to eat?" - -"Don't bother. I only wanted to say hello." Goodbye, he meant. - -"Harry's asleep now." - -"Harry?" - -"Your son." - -"Oh." - -"He goes to bed at eight o'clock." - -He made the automatic adjustment. Twenty hundred hours. "Is he well?" - -"Couldn't be better. Eats well and everything." - -"Like his old man, huh?" - -"You want to come in?" But she stood blocking the doorway. - -"No, don't bother. Have you a solidio of him or something?" - -"I'll get it." - -He stood there in the hall, awkwardly, waiting. - -She came back. "Here." - -The other Harry was a dimple-cheeked boy with blond hair and a small -nose like his mother's. He was wearing a junior spaceman's suit and -pointed a ray gun straight at you. - -"Thank you." - -"Sure you don't want anything to eat?" She wore a pleasant enough -expression on her face, the same as she might use for a door to door -solicitor or a visiting great-aunt from out of town. - -"That's all right. I want to wish you good luck, Nancy." - -"Thank you. Are you sure you don't want...." And then the pleasant -look melted before tears, not slowly but all at once, so that this was -a different person standing in the doorway and Harry Allerton wanted -either to take her in his arms and comfort her or flee for the elevator -but nothing in between. "Harry ... Harry ... I didn't know ... I -couldn't ... we never...." - -"That's all right," he said, settling for the in between and abruptly -hating himself not for what was within him but for what was outside, -for the world and its conventions and the things he had wanted to do -but never could and the security he had wanted to earn but which now -had eluded him. - -"I'm sorry I carried on so," said Nancy, the conventional smile -returning, the tears kleenex'd away. - -"If there is something little Harry needs...?" - -"Oh, no, thank you. His father, I mean my husband--Mr. Chambers is an -engineer over at Grumman and everything is fine." - -"I guess I'll be going." - -"I'm glad you could come." - -"Does the boy know about me?" - -"No. I thought it would be better." - -"Of course, Nancy. You did the right thing." - -"I was hoping you would think so." - -"You couldn't do anything else." - -"Where will you go now? Are you going to make a career of space?" - -"I haven't thought about it. There's no hurry." - -"Well...." - -"Well...." - -"I hope you get whatever you want, Harry." - -He wanted to say it no longer was available. "A man doesn't know what -he wants, until he has it." - -"Well...." - -"Goodbye, Nancy." - -"Goodbye, Harry." - -The door shut. He fled with his picture. - - * * * * * - -"Come in, Allerton. Nice vacation?" Captain Greene peered at him -through a blue haze of cigar smoke. - -"Not particularly. There are too many people. Too many complications. -A man can't think straight out there, with all that confusion. I don't -know...." - -"I said you were for space. When you've been around as long as I have, -you'll be able to smell 'em, too. You think I'm kidding?" - -"Probably not, sir." - -"There is security and security, Allerton. It can't be explained to a -man. He's got to find out for himself. Alone in space, with the ship -and a frontier vaster than all the frontiers before it in history, -a certain type of man can be secure. He's the man who's lost in a -crowd. Confused and muddled by convention, he's not a hero. Basically, -he's a lonesome man. Strangely, the psychologists tell you he's happy -then--when he's lonesome. You see what I mean, Allerton?" - -"No, sir. Not entirely." - -"Forget that formal stuff. Well, you'll learn. The important thing is -this: there aren't enough real spacemen to go around. A normal man -doesn't give up life for dedication. A spaceman does. You belong to a -strange breed, Allerton. Want to talk about your vacation?" - -"Absolutely not," Allerton said curtly, then apologized. The thought of -it, the thought of stepping off the _Eros_ again and feeling the ground -of Earth underfoot, wet ground sometimes, or dry and dusty, or covered -with a white mantle of snow, always unpredictable, was distasteful. - -"You're one of the breed now," the Captain repeated. - - * * * * * - -"You may close the Allerton file," said the government psychologist to -his secretary. - -"It's finished?" - -"We paid his wife a visit yesterday. They're the hardest ones to deal -with. The man never knows, but the woman does. How can you convince a -woman her husband will be happiest away from her--how can you convince -her when you're not even sure yourself?" - -"I feel sorry for Allerton. You can't help feeling sorry for him." - -"But psychological tests indicate he'll be happier this way. Besides--" - -"--besides," the secretary finished for him, "it's for the good of the -nation. But never mind those psychological tests. Don't have to tell -_me_ which came first, the chicken or the egg." - -"Have it your way. But Mrs. Allerton understood." - -"After we worked on her night and day for three years!" - -"Nevertheless, she understood. Allerton is a special breed, a spaceman. -Well, isn't he?" - -"And Mrs. Allerton playing along with us like that, pretending she had -re-married--" - -"It was the best way. She knew that." - -"We convinced her of that. But forget it, chief. I'd rather not talk -about it. Still, Allerton wasn't a born spaceman, and you know it. -There's no such thing, except for extreme introverts, who aren't such -good workers, anyway." - -"We need spacemen. We need dedicated men who don't want to see their -native planet. Either we control space or our enemy does." - -"Then why don't you say it that way?" - -"Well, because--" - -"Because you're afraid to admit it even to yourself, that's why. -Spacemen aren't born, chief. They are made. They are not particularly -heroic or well-adjusted people. They are ordinary men with induced -traumas and they don't want to go near Earth again, and we call them -spacemen." - -"It's for the security of the nation," said the government psychologist -as he opened a new file.... - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PARIAH *** - -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. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <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: Pariah</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Milton Lesser</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 17, 2021 [eBook #66324]</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 PARIAH ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>PARIAH</h1> - -<h2>By Milton Lesser</h2> - -<p>Harry spent three years in space waiting<br /> -to get home to Earth—and his family. They were<br /> -waiting for him too—that is, for his corpse....</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy<br /> -April 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>Captain Greene shook his shaggy head and studied Allerton with patient -eyes. "You're making a mistake," he said. "You'll be back."</p> - -<p>The inside of the spaceship was quiet now, not with the silence of the -tomb, but with the silence of barely inaudible echoes as if Allerton -might still be able to hear the crew clomping about the companionways -on metal-shod feet if only he knew how to listen. He buried the notion -under the sweet anticipation of homecoming and said, "I don't think so, -Captain. This is what I want, right here." He tapped the comforting -bulk of his wallet, bulging the metallic cloth of his tunic.</p> - -<p>He was a gaunt, comical figure of a man, so long and lean that he -stooped slightly at the waist and again at the shoulders, with a long, -down-tipped nose which almost seemed to meet the thin-lipped mouth as -he spoke. "What about you, Captain?" he said. He was still savoring the -joy of his own return, letting it build up inside him like a slow fire -fanned by barely enough air to keep it kindled. He hardly cared whether -Captain Greene disembarked or not, but the captain's unexpected lack -of enthusiasm was a splendid counter-point for his own emotions and he -wanted to wring every last drop of joy from his homecoming. "All the -men are gone," he went on. "This is Earth, Captain."</p> - -<p>"I don't leave the ship much these days, Allerton. I've got to complete -the log, you know, then do a little advance astronauting for the trip -out. Anyway, none of the others are spacemen, Allerton. An old spacedog -like me can smell 'em a mile away—the real ones. You've got the -makings, all right."</p> - -<p>"You won't see me aboard the <i>Eros</i> again, though. I grew up in the -depression of the eighties, Captain. What I'm looking for is security. -I've got it right here—enough to start a business of my own and give -my kid the kind of education he needs these days. Three years is a -long time, but I tried to be a good spaceman."</p> - -<p>"You were the best."</p> - -<p>"Those kids running around after adventure, they'll be back. They're -made for this life. They're too young and having too much fun to start -thinking much about security. But now, you take me...."</p> - -<p>"You'll have to make the decision yourself," Captain Greene -admitted, leaning back comfortably with a cigar and reaching for his -leather-bound log, his stubby fingers almost caressing the leaves with -a love nurtured on long familiarity. "We blast off in a week," he said. -"Enough time for you to decide, I guess."</p> - -<p>"But I've already decided, sir." Allerton turned to go, stooping -forward even more than usual to fit through the low doorway which, like -anything else in the tight confines of a spaceship, was not made to -accommodate his gangling figure.</p> - -<p>"Well, don't forget this. You're wrong about the others. They're not -for space, not the way you are. It's a common misconception. Good luck, -Allerton."</p> - -<p>But Allerton was already on his way down the companionway with its -ghost-noises which he no longer could hear. He wondered what it really -took to make a man happy, truly happy over a sustained period. The -flitting stolen moments of a spaceman's life, he knew, could never be -for him. Yet outside the rain drummed down drearily on the gray apron -of the landing pit and washed over Allerton with an ineffable sadness.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The reporters were waiting for him down below, huddled together under a -bobbing sea of umbrellas. He failed to understand why anyone should be -waiting in the rain like that.</p> - -<p>"I'm from the <i>Star-Herald</i>," one of the umbrella-shrouded faces told -him, the voice steady and without highlight, like the rain. "Have you -heard the news yet?"</p> - -<p>"News?" demanded Allerton as he went down the ramp to the apron and was -soon swallowed up by the sea of umbrellas.</p> - -<p>"You're Allerton, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>An aisle was cleared as Allerton drew a slicker from his duffle and -pulled it across his shoulders. Flash-cameras glared briefly against -the dusky sky, making him blink his eyes uncomfortably.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'm Allerton, but I haven't heard any news."</p> - -<p>It was a woman's voice this time, sharp and precise as a pencil point. -"The <i>Eros</i> was gone for three years, Mr. Allerton, on a one year -trip. Sixteen months ago you were presumed to be lost. You were legally -dead a year ago."</p> - -<p>"Here I am," said Allerton foolishly. "Here we are." He wished they -would all go away so he could check in at the administration building. -He thought that the copter-cabs might be grounded by the low ceiling -and realized his homecoming, two years tardy, would be delayed still -further because it would take him hours to get home to his wife and -son. "We had some trouble in the Jovian Moons," he said unnecessarily, -for the rest of the crew must have made that fact known by now. -"Really, I'm no hero."</p> - -<p>It had been largely through Allerton's efforts, as noncommissioned -officer in charge of maintenance and repair, that the <i>Eros</i> had -been able to blast off from Io at all. It was a moment he had not -considered, this hero's welcome. His picture and the story of his -exploits might appear on the video newscasts even before he reached -Nancy and the boy. But now that he had stooped low to be included -in the protection of the umbrellas, he could see the faces of the -reporters.</p> - -<p>This was no hero's welcome. Allerton waited for what was to come with -a growing sense of the ridiculous. He had been almost ready to sign -autographs.</p> - -<p>"Hasn't anyone told you your wife has re-married, Mr. Allerton?"</p> - -<p>The rain marched across the umbrellas with incessantly scurrying feet. -The space below them was heavy with cigarette smoke, like a small, -poorly-ventilated room, and with the muted sound of many voices, keyed -low—anxious but objective. Allerton could almost see the scores of -pencils, ready to pounce upon the blank pages of the ruled pads and -scribble his name across the hemisphere, the world.</p> - -<p>"What are you telling me?" demanded Allerton. He had heard. Even now -the words were etching themselves in his brain, stirring old memories, -conjuring impossible visions. This was the sort of thing you saw on the -video-casts and tch-tch'd about, then went upstairs with your wife and -took her in your arms and thought, are the people that happens to real?</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Allerton was married again ten months ago. In an interview this -morning she said she was glad you were alive but loved her husband, -her new husband I mean, that is, the man she married because she -thought you were dead." It was the girl-reporter again, the brittle, -pencil-point quality gone from her voice.</p> - -<p>Allerton subdued a wild impulse to say something flippant. Suddenly, it -was as if he had indeed died out there in space and now he was a ghost, -coming home to haunt people who wanted only to forget. The reporters -expected him to say something, though. Tell them that he had spent -three years in space, hating every minute of it, to find security for -his family? Tell them he had risked his life to repair the ship on Io -because if he failed the government insurance would provide for his -family? Tell them he was now dead, really dead as Nancy had thought, -and they were wasting their time interviewing a ghost?</p> - -<p>"Have you any plans, Mr. Allerton?"</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." The rain had slackened. He heard his -own heart, hammering in his throat and ears.</p> - -<p>"What are your plans for the future, Mr. Allerton? Are you going to -contest the marriage legally? Will you see your wife at all?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," said Allerton mechanically. "I don't know. I don't -know. I don't know." He pushed his way through the crowd of reporters, -a tall but stooped figure, averting his eyes from the umbrella ribs. -He had been married to Nancy only six months before shipping out, had -received word about the birth of their son at the last mail-station on -Ceres. If she sought the same security he wanted, he could not find it -in his heart to condemn her. He was dead. He had been waiting to live -all his life, but now he was dead.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"All right, spacer. On your feet. We're closing."</p> - -<p>His bleary eyes squinted. <i>It was Johnny this and Johnny that and -Johnny</i> ... Kipling? Someone?</p> - -<p>"We got nothing against spacers here, only when we close, we close. -I'll make you something to eat if you want, but that's it."</p> - -<p>"No. No, thank you."</p> - -<p>"A bit too much to drink, eh?"</p> - -<p>"I'll be O.K. I'm sorry if I—"</p> - -<p>"Forget it. Here, let me help you to the door. Easy, now."</p> - -<p>He was outside, the duffle balanced on his lean shoulder, the misty -drizzle chilling him at once, the wet sidewalk casting his reflection -and alternately swallowing and elongating his shadow as he made his way -down the street past the spaced lamplights.</p> - -<p>Sooner or later, he would see her. He had to see her and the child, who -was now almost three years old. But what did you do, walk in the front -door and say hello Mrs. (name of new husband), I'm the man you used -to be married to? Perhaps, he thought, you wrote a letter instead, a -dear-John in reverse. But that way you did not get to see the boy.</p> - -<p>Certainly, you saw none of your old friends. Tough luck, old fellow. -Something about more fish in the sea. Pat your back and introduce you -to two or three one-tracked-minded bachelor girls as the conquering -hero from Io and other faraway places. And you did not even venture -into the old neighborhood until you were ready for the quick sally, the -first visit to Nancy and the boy (and the new husband?) and departure.</p> - -<p>Nancy loved her husband, the girl-reporter said. Nancy had loved him. -Simple logic: Nancy loved husbands, present tense. Security. What he -sought. Safe in a circumscribed world, in comfortable, middle-class -conformity, free and clear of all intrusions except the mortgage and -the payments on the new copter and scraped knees for junior.</p> - -<p>He wondered how many bars he had visited, starting with the spaceport -administration building. There was a hazy recollection of copter-cabs -and surface-cabs, of smiling, vapid faces and other smiling faces, -not vapid, when the video-cast appeared on a television screen in -one of the bars and there he was, squinting against the flash-camera -glare, the rain seeping through the roof of umbrellas and rolling down -his long, gaunt face and off the thin, long, drooping nose. And then -someone recognized him or he recognized himself and drunkenly announced -his identity, he wasn't sure which, and someone had bought drinks for -everyone celebrating Allerton's return to blessed bachelorhood and they -all had a fine old time except Allerton who had soon taken his leave -and another cab and another bar.</p> - -<p>Now the streets were familiar. There was the long, low bulk of the -pie-wedge supermarket, big and wide in front and tapering in the rear, -with great sweep of thermo-glass window staring at him and reflecting -him in the lamplight so he could stare at himself.</p> - -<p>And there was the schoolyard playground, deserted now, the swings -wet and the teeter-totters dripping and the slicky-slide glistening. -What does a man think about when he's out in space and knows he -probably won't return? thought Allerton. About slicky-slides and a boy -hollering in glee with an unknown voice out of an unknown face. And -there were the apartment buildings, flanking their courtyard with -the look of solid strength that only brick can give in this age of -glass and plaster. He wondered if Nancy still had their old Republic -family-copter parked on the roof near the television antenna, and then -it suddenly occurred to him that Nancy might not be living here at all.</p> - -<p>He wouldn't visit her, not yet. It was curiosity and not longing which -made him enter the courtyard and the lobby of the second building on -the left, past the dark, perfectly-cropped rows of California privet -which in another few months would lose their glossy leaves to the -coming of winter.</p> - -<p>The illuminated dial of his wrist-watch told him it was 0230, hardly -the time to go calling on a woman and her new husband and a child -he had never seen. But there was the name, his name, opposite the -apartment number on the call-phone. Allerton, with a hyphen after -it, and the name Chambers. The widow Allerton lived here with her -new husband, the legally declared widow Allerton who probably still -received some mail and some callers under the old name but would one -day soon be able to take Allerton and the hyphen out and leave Chambers -alone. Nancy Chambers, his wife.</p> - -<p>He pressed the buzzer and then drew back, startled. He was about -to leave the lobby and run out between the rows of privet and keep -on running when he heard his wife's voice, metallically, over the -call-phone. "Yes? Who is it?"</p> - -<p>He walked back and stared at the rows of names and buzzers. "Harry," he -said.</p> - -<p>There was a sob, a sucking in of breath. "I'll come right down."</p> - -<p>"I'm coming up."</p> - -<p>It was simple. It was as simple as waiting for the buzzer, opening the -door, waiting for the elevator, pressing another button, waiting to be -carried to the twelfth floor, waiting for the door to slide, walking -across the hall to the apartment door, waiting for it to open, waiting, -waiting, waiting....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I hoped you would come, Harry. Really, I wanted to see you. You're -looking well."</p> - -<p>"You're looking well, too." She was. She wore a dressing gown of -some gossamer material over her flannel pajamas. She'd never liked -nightgowns.</p> - -<p>"Nice trip back?"</p> - -<p>"Long one."</p> - -<p>"Weather bad? No, there's no weather up there."</p> - -<p>"I can't complain."</p> - -<p>"Did you have anything to eat?"</p> - -<p>"Don't bother. I only wanted to say hello." Goodbye, he meant.</p> - -<p>"Harry's asleep now."</p> - -<p>"Harry?"</p> - -<p>"Your son."</p> - -<p>"Oh."</p> - -<p>"He goes to bed at eight o'clock."</p> - -<p>He made the automatic adjustment. Twenty hundred hours. "Is he well?"</p> - -<p>"Couldn't be better. Eats well and everything."</p> - -<p>"Like his old man, huh?"</p> - -<p>"You want to come in?" But she stood blocking the doorway.</p> - -<p>"No, don't bother. Have you a solidio of him or something?"</p> - -<p>"I'll get it."</p> - -<p>He stood there in the hall, awkwardly, waiting.</p> - -<p>She came back. "Here."</p> - -<p>The other Harry was a dimple-cheeked boy with blond hair and a small -nose like his mother's. He was wearing a junior spaceman's suit and -pointed a ray gun straight at you.</p> - -<p>"Thank you."</p> - -<p>"Sure you don't want anything to eat?" She wore a pleasant enough -expression on her face, the same as she might use for a door to door -solicitor or a visiting great-aunt from out of town.</p> - -<p>"That's all right. I want to wish you good luck, Nancy."</p> - -<p>"Thank you. Are you sure you don't want...." And then the pleasant -look melted before tears, not slowly but all at once, so that this was -a different person standing in the doorway and Harry Allerton wanted -either to take her in his arms and comfort her or flee for the elevator -but nothing in between. "Harry ... Harry ... I didn't know ... I -couldn't ... we never...."</p> - -<p>"That's all right," he said, settling for the in between and abruptly -hating himself not for what was within him but for what was outside, -for the world and its conventions and the things he had wanted to do -but never could and the security he had wanted to earn but which now -had eluded him.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry I carried on so," said Nancy, the conventional smile -returning, the tears kleenex'd away.</p> - -<p>"If there is something little Harry needs...?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, thank you. His father, I mean my husband—Mr. Chambers is an -engineer over at Grumman and everything is fine."</p> - -<p>"I guess I'll be going."</p> - -<p>"I'm glad you could come."</p> - -<p>"Does the boy know about me?"</p> - -<p>"No. I thought it would be better."</p> - -<p>"Of course, Nancy. You did the right thing."</p> - -<p>"I was hoping you would think so."</p> - -<p>"You couldn't do anything else."</p> - -<p>"Where will you go now? Are you going to make a career of space?"</p> - -<p>"I haven't thought about it. There's no hurry."</p> - -<p>"Well...."</p> - -<p>"Well...."</p> - -<p>"I hope you get whatever you want, Harry."</p> - -<p>He wanted to say it no longer was available. "A man doesn't know what -he wants, until he has it."</p> - -<p>"Well...."</p> - -<p>"Goodbye, Nancy."</p> - -<p>"Goodbye, Harry."</p> - -<p>The door shut. He fled with his picture.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Come in, Allerton. Nice vacation?" Captain Greene peered at him -through a blue haze of cigar smoke.</p> - -<p>"Not particularly. There are too many people. Too many complications. -A man can't think straight out there, with all that confusion. I don't -know...."</p> - -<p>"I said you were for space. When you've been around as long as I have, -you'll be able to smell 'em, too. You think I'm kidding?"</p> - -<p>"Probably not, sir."</p> - -<p>"There is security and security, Allerton. It can't be explained to a -man. He's got to find out for himself. Alone in space, with the ship -and a frontier vaster than all the frontiers before it in history, -a certain type of man can be secure. He's the man who's lost in a -crowd. Confused and muddled by convention, he's not a hero. Basically, -he's a lonesome man. Strangely, the psychologists tell you he's happy -then—when he's lonesome. You see what I mean, Allerton?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir. Not entirely."</p> - -<p>"Forget that formal stuff. Well, you'll learn. The important thing is -this: there aren't enough real spacemen to go around. A normal man -doesn't give up life for dedication. A spaceman does. You belong to a -strange breed, Allerton. Want to talk about your vacation?"</p> - -<p>"Absolutely not," Allerton said curtly, then apologized. The thought of -it, the thought of stepping off the <i>Eros</i> again and feeling the ground -of Earth underfoot, wet ground sometimes, or dry and dusty, or covered -with a white mantle of snow, always unpredictable, was distasteful.</p> - -<p>"You're one of the breed now," the Captain repeated.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"You may close the Allerton file," said the government psychologist to -his secretary.</p> - -<p>"It's finished?"</p> - -<p>"We paid his wife a visit yesterday. They're the hardest ones to deal -with. The man never knows, but the woman does. How can you convince a -woman her husband will be happiest away from her—how can you convince -her when you're not even sure yourself?"</p> - -<p>"I feel sorry for Allerton. You can't help feeling sorry for him."</p> - -<p>"But psychological tests indicate he'll be happier this way. Besides—"</p> - -<p>"—besides," the secretary finished for him, "it's for the good of the -nation. But never mind those psychological tests. Don't have to tell -<i>me</i> which came first, the chicken or the egg."</p> - -<p>"Have it your way. But Mrs. Allerton understood."</p> - -<p>"After we worked on her night and day for three years!"</p> - -<p>"Nevertheless, she understood. Allerton is a special breed, a spaceman. -Well, isn't he?"</p> - -<p>"And Mrs. Allerton playing along with us like that, pretending she had -re-married—"</p> - -<p>"It was the best way. She knew that."</p> - -<p>"We convinced her of that. But forget it, chief. I'd rather not talk -about it. Still, Allerton wasn't a born spaceman, and you know it. -There's no such thing, except for extreme introverts, who aren't such -good workers, anyway."</p> - -<p>"We need spacemen. We need dedicated men who don't want to see their -native planet. Either we control space or our enemy does."</p> - -<p>"Then why don't you say it that way?"</p> - -<p>"Well, because—"</p> - -<p>"Because you're afraid to admit it even to yourself, that's why. -Spacemen aren't born, chief. They are made. They are not particularly -heroic or well-adjusted people. They are ordinary men with induced -traumas and they don't want to go near Earth again, and we call them -spacemen."</p> - -<p>"It's for the security of the nation," said the government psychologist -as he opened a new file....</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PARIAH ***</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. 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