September 29, 2025 • 39 mins
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Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Faithfully yours by Lew Tabacaow. If it's too impossibly difficult
to track down and recapture an escaped criminal, there's a
worse thing one might do. July eighteenth, nineteen forty nine
a d the fugitive lay face down in the fetid undergrowth,
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drawing in spasmodic lungfuls of air through cracked and swollen lips.
Long before his blue workshirt had been ripped to ribbons,
and his exposed chest showed a spiderwork of scratches where
branches and brambles had sought to restrain him in his
frenzied flight. Across his back, from shoulder to shoulder ran
a deeper cut, around which the caked blood attested to
(00:41):
the needle sharp viciousness of a thornbush a mile to
the north. With each tortured breath, he winced as drops
of sweat ran down, following the spiderwork network and burning
like acid. Incessantly, he rubbed his bruised torso with mud
caked palms to dislodge the gnats and mosquitoes that clung
to him. Gorging shamelessly to the east, he could see
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the lights of Fort Mudge, where the railroad cut through
on its way to Jacksonville. He had planned to ride
the freight into Jacksonville, but by now they were stopping
every train and searching along every foot of the railroad
right of way. In the distance, he heard the eerie
keen of a train whistle and visualized the scene as
it was flagged down and searched from engine to caboose.
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Directly before him loomed the foreboding northern boundary of the
Okey Finochi Swamp. Unconsciously, he strained his ears, then shuddered
at the night noises that issued from the noisome wilderness,
A frenzied threshing, then a splash, then silence. What drama
of life and death was being played out in that
strange other world of perpetual shadows. In sudden panic, he
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jerked erect and cupped his palm round his ear. Far off,
muted by distance, but still unmistakable, he heard the baying
of bloodhounds. Then this was the end. A sob broke
from his throat. What was he an animal to be
hunted down as a sport? Tears of self pity welled
to his eyes as he thought back to a party
(02:09):
and a girl, and laughter and cleanliness in the scent
of magnolia's like a heady whine. But that was so
long ago, so long ago. And now he looked down
at his sweating, lacerated body, his blistered, calloused palms, the black,
broken nails, the cheap workshoes with hemp laces, the shapeless
gray cotton trousers, now wet to the knees. He pulled
(02:33):
back his shoulders and resolutely faced west toward the river,
but stopped short in horror as he heard the sudden
cacophony of barks, yelps, and howls of a pack of
bloodhounds that senses the beginning of the end. He turned
in panic. They couldn't be over half a mile away.
In panic of indecision, he turned first east, then west,
then facing due south. He hesitated a moment to take
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one last look at the clear, open skies, and with
a muffled prayer, plum into the brooding depths of the
Oke Finocchi June thirteenth, four hundred and twenty seventh year,
Galactic era. The building still hummed and vibrated with the
dying echoes of the alarm siren as The biophysicist hurried
down the corridor and without breaking stride, pushed open the
(03:18):
door to the director's office. The director shuffled the papers
before him and sighed heavily. His chair creaked protestingly as
he shifted his bulk and looked up. Well he got
clean away, said the biophysicist, and he fixed on the direction.
None at all, sir, And he's got at least two
hours start. That takes in a pretty big area of space. Hmm. Well,
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there's just a bare chance. That experimental cruiser is the
fastest thing in space, and it's equipped with the latest
Ethereo radar. If we get started right away, we just might.
That's just it, interrupted the biophysicist. That's the ship he
got away in. The director jumped angrily to his feet.
How did that happen? How can I explain it to
the board. I'm sorry, sir, he was just too You're sorry.
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He slumped back in his chair and drummed the desktop
with his fingernails, wearying his lower lip with his teeth.
He exhaled loudly and leaned forward. Well, only one thing
to do, you know, the orders The biophysicist squirmed uncomfortably,
couldn't we send a squadron of ships out to search
and and what, asked the director sarcastically. You don't think
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I'd risk a billion credits worth of equipment on a
wild goose chase like that, do you? We could use
up a year's appropriation of fuel and manpower and still
be unable to adequately search a sector one tenth that size.
If he just sat still, a thousand ships couldn't find
him in a thousand years searching at finite speeds. Add
to that the fact that the target is moving at
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ultra light speed, and the odds against locating him is
multiplied by a billion. I know, but he can't stay
in space. He'll have to land somewhere sometime. True, but
where and when? Couldn't we alert all the nearby planets?
You know better than that? He could be halfway across
the galaxy before in a therogram reached the nearest planet.
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Suppose we sent scout ships to the nearer planets and
asked them to inform their neighbors in the same way.
We'd soon have an expanding circle that he couldn't slip through.
The director smiled wrily. Maybe, but who's going to pay
for all this? By the time the circle was a
thousand light years in diameter, there would be ten thousand
ships and a million clerks working on recapturing one escaped prisoner.
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Another thing. I don't know offhand what he's been sentenced for,
but I'll wager there are ten thousand planets on which
his crime would not be a crime. Do you think
we could ever extradite him from such a planet? And
even if, by some incredible stroke of fortune, one of
our agents happened to land on the right planet in
which city would he begin his search? Or suppose our
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quarry lands only on uninhabited plane, we can't very well
alert the whole galaxy in the search for just one man.
I know. But but what, interrupted the director? Any other suggestions? No,
all right, he asked for it. You have the pattern,
I presume, feed it to Fido. Yes, sir, But well,
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I just don't Do you think I like it, asked
the director fiercely. In the silence that followed, they looked
at each other guiltily. There's nothing else we can do,
said the director. The orders are explicit. No one escapes
from hades, I know, replied the biophysicist. I'm not blaming you.
Only I wish someone else had my job. Well, said
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the director heavily. You might as well get started. He
nodded his head in dismissal. As the biophysicist went out
the door, the director looked down once more at the
pile of papers before him. He pulled the top sheet
closer and rubber stamped across its face. Case closed, yes,
he used aloud, closed for us. But he hesitated a moment,
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and then, sighing once more, signed his name in the
space provided August sixth, four hundred and thirtieth year Galactic era.
T or Mond sat morosely at the space bar and
alternately wiped his forehead with a soggy handkerchief and sipped
at his frosted rainbow, careful not to disturb the very
colored layers of liquid in the tall, narrow glass. Every
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now and then he nervously ran his fingers through his
straight black hair, which lay damply plastered to his head.
His jacket was faded and worn, and above the left
pocket was emblazoned the meteor insignia of the Spaceman. A
dark patch on his back showed where the perspiration had
seeped through. He blinked and rubbed the corner of his
eye as a drop of perspiration ran down and settled there.
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A casual look would have classified him as a very
average looking pilot, such as could be found at the
bar of any spaceport by e if space pilots can
ever be classified as average. Spacemen are the last true
adventurers in an age where the debilitating culture of a
highly mechanized civilization has pushed to the very borders of
the galaxy. While most men are fearful and indecisive outside
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their narrow specialties, the spacemen must at all times be
ready to deal with the unexpected and the unusual. The
expression steady as a spaceman's nerves had a very real origin.
A closer look at tea would have revealed the error
of a quick classification. He gripped his drink too tightly,
and his eyes darted restlessly from side to side, as
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though searching, searching, yet dreading to find the object of
their search. His expressive face contorted in a nervous tick
each time his eyes swept by the clock hanging behind
the bar. He glanced dispiritedly out the window at the
perpetually cloudy sky and idly watched a rivulet of water
race down the dirty pane. He loosened his collar and
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futilely mopped at his neck with the side handkerchief, then
irritably flung it to the floor. Hey Joe, he yelled
to the bartender. What's the matter with the air conditioning.
I'm burning up. Take it easy, soothed the bartender, consulting
a thermometer on the wall behind him. It's eighty five
in here. That's as low as the law allows. Can't
have too much difference in the temperature, or all my
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customers pass out when they go outside. Why don't you
go into town? They keep it comfortable under the dome.
Don't this planet ever cool? Off, asked ta. The bartender chuckled.
I see you don't know much about thumis. Sometimes it
drops to ninety at night, but not too often. You
ought to be here sometime when the clouds part for
a minute. If you're caught outside, it's third degree burns
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for sure. He glanced down at the nearly empty glass.
How about another rainbow. If you get enough of them, menu,
you won't notice the heat. You won't notice anything. He
laughed uproariously at the hoary joke. Tea looked at him disgustedly,
and without answering, bent to his drink once more. He
felt someone jostle his elbow and turned sideways to allow
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the newcomer access to the bar. After a moment, he
wiped his forehead on his sleeve. The bartender placed another
rainbow before him. Hey, I didn't order that, he cried.
The bartender nodded toward the next stool on him. Tea
turned and saw a barrel chested, red haired giant holding
up a drink in the immemorial bar toast. He raised
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his own glass gingerly, but his trembling hand caused the
layers to mix, and he stared ruefully at the resultant
clayey looking mess. The redhead laughed, Mix another one, Joe,
But Tea's face got red. I came in here to
talk to you anyway, said the giant. You own the
star duster, don't you? Yeah? What about it? Like to
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get her out of hock? Who says she's in hock? Look,
said the redhead. Let's not kid each other. Everybody around
this port knows you blew in from Lemmy Tea last
month and can't raise the money to pay the port charges,
much less the refueling fee. And it's no secret that
you're anxious to leave our fair planet. He winked conspiringly
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at Tea. So the Redhead glanced at the bartender, who
was busy at the other end of the bar. He
leaned closer and whispered, I know where the Ellen of
Troy is. The Ellen of Troy. Oh, that's right. You
wouldn't know about her. Eight months ago she crashed on
an uninhabited planet somewhere in this sector. So far they've
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been unable to find her. He leaned closer. She was
carrying four million in penrex crystals. What's that to me?
The Redhead looked around briefly to make sure no one
was in hearing distance, then whispered softly, without moving his lips.
I told you they can't find her, but I know
where she is. You know, But how look, said the giant, frowning.
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I didn't ask why you're so anxious to leave. Well,
i'll clear your ship and we can pick up the
crystals for the salvage fee a million each and all
nice and legal, and we can leave by the end
of the week and be back in probably six months.
Six months. Tea stood up. Sorry, the Redhead grabbed his
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arm in a ham like palm. A million each in
six months? What's wrong with that? Tea jerked out of
his grasp. I just can't do it. I don't know
what you're running from, persisted the Redhead. But with a
million credits, you can fight extradition for the rest of
your life. This is your big chance. Can't you see that? Besides,
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this planet has some interesting customs. He winked at Tea.
I can introduce you. I can't stay here, interrupted Ta.
You just don't understand, look, cried the Redhead exasperatedly. I'm
offering you a full partnership on a two million credit
salvage deal, and you want to back out because it'll
take six months. On top of that, you're broke and stranded,
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and your hanger bill gets bigger every day. If you
don't take me up on this deal, you'll still be
sitting here six months from now, wondering how to get
your ship out of hock if you don't get caught first,
What do you say? What have you got to lose?
What did he have to lose? Tea gripped the edge
of the bar, till his knuckles showed white. No, I
I just can't do it. Why don't you get some
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one else? The slow tubs around this port would take
years for the trip. I can see the star Duster
has class fastest thing in the galaxy, said Tea proudly,
then earnestly. I'm sorry, You'll just have to find some
other ship. Think it over, said the redhead. I'll wait
when you change your mind. Look me up. Names Yule Larsen.
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He slapped Tea heavily on the back and swaggered toward
the door. He turned and looked back. Better go along
with me. After six months they can auction off your
ship and pay for the port charges, you know. The
door swung shut behind him. Tea sat down again and
bent his head, nursing his drink. His eyes darted nervously
around the room and came to rect on the clock.
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A shudder ran through him, and he lowered his eyes quickly.
As he sipped his drink, his eyes returned to the
clock continually, as though drawn there against their will. As
he watched, the minute hand jerked downward, and an involuntary
gasp escaped his lips. The bartender turned quickly anything wrong,
No nothing. As he spoke, the minute hand moved again,
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and Tea started nervously upsetting his drink. He sat for
a moment watching the bartender mop up the spreading liquid,
then abruptly got up and tossed a half credit piece
on the bar. He hurried outside, stealing himself to keep
from running. He paused just outside the door, stand still,
He told himself, mustn't run, mustn't run. No use anyway.
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If I only knew when, If if I just could
stop and rest, If I had the time, time, time,
that's what I need, late years of time. But when, when,
If only I could be sure? He looked up slowly
at the murky canopy of clouds. If I only knew when,
He looked indecisively up and down the field, then, squaring
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his shoulders, resolutely, set out for the administration building. At
this hour, the office was deserted, except for a wispy
haired little man who sat at a desk fussing with
some papers. He looked up questioningly as t came in.
Is my ship recharged and provisioned? Asked, t uh, what's
the name? Please? Tea or Mond? I own the starduster?
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The clerk pulled a card from a file on the
desk and studied it. Ah, yes, the starduster. I'd like
to pay my bill and clear the starduster for immediate departure.
Uh very good, mister Ormond. He consulted the card again.
That'll be fourteen hundred and eleven credits, he beamed. We
included a case of Rukeiser's concentrate complements of the management.
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He handed a circular to Tea. This is a list
of our ports and facilities on other planets. Our accommodations
are the finest, and we carry a complete line of parts.
He smiled professionally. What about my key, asked t pulling
out his wallet. Uh, let's see number thirty seven. The
clerk started for a numbered board hanging on the wall.
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He never got there. Tea whipped a stun gun from
inside his jacket and waved it at the clerk's back.
It caught him in mid stride and unbalanced. He crashed
heavily to the floor. Te glanced briefly down as he
stepped over the paralyzed form, avoiding the accusing eyes, and
snatched the magnetic key off the hook. He forced himself
to walk calmly across the field toward the hangar that
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housed the starduster. A uniformed guard stopped him at the
hanger door. May I see you're clearance, sir, he asked politely.
Tea hesitated for a moment. Oh, I'm just going to
get something out of my ship, he said smoothly. The
clerk said it was Raj. The clerk said, but he can't.
The guard tensed. Mind if I check, sir orders, you know.
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He bent his head slightly as he pressed knob on
his wrist radio. As his eyes turned downward, Tea swung
the stun gun in an arc that ended on the
back of the guard's head. As he leaped into the
star Duster. He was sorry for a moment that he
hadn't had time to recharge the gun, and hoped he
hadn't struck too hard. October eleventh, four hundred and thirty
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third year Galactic era, Tea stepped out of the hangar
and surveyed the twin suns. The pale binaries sat stolidly
on the horizon forty degrees apart. Their mingled light washed
down dimly on the single continent of the planet Aurora.
He started as a man walked around the corner of
the hangar. The man looked at Tea searchingly for a moment,
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then asked, anything troubling you, Tea? Why? Why? No, mister Jenner,
you just startled me. That's all. Well, how's everything coming
right on schedule? We'll be ready for the final test
by the end of the week, by the way, asked
Jenner speculatively, how come you ordered the ship stocked and
provisioned for the test? Why? Why? I think she should
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be tested under exactly the same conditions as she'll encounter
in actual use. We could have done it a lot
cheaper by just using ballast, said Jenner. After this, I
want to personally see any voucher for over a hundred
credits before it's cleared. Yes, sir, but I just didn't
want to bother you with the details. An expenditure of
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over two thousand credits isn't just detail. But let it pass.
It's already done anyway. On the drawing board. She's the
fastest thing in the galaxy, he smiled. If she lives
up to expectations, she'll make your ship look like an
old freighter. We've got four millions sunk into her. So far,
so she'd better check out, Raj. He put his hand
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on T's shoulder. You're not worried about testing her, are you?
You've been jumpy lately? Oh no, nothing like that, mister Jenner.
I'm just well, I've been up all night watching them
install the gyroscopes. Think I'll get some sleep, he yawned.
Jenner cupped his chin in his palm and stood staring
after the retreating figure as T turned and looked back nervously.
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Jenner entered the hangar office. He spoke softly in the visiphone,
and in a moment, the screen led up. Is this?
The prison administrator asked Jenner? What can I do for you?
My name is Jenner Consolidated spacecraft. Yes, suppose an escaped
prisoner from Hades landed on Aurora. No one escapes from
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Hades prison. Well just suppose one did? I never receive
information about escapees. But you're the administrator here. My job,
as the title implies, is purely administrative. I merely arrange
transportation for our annual shipment of prisoners to Hades and
see that the records are kept straight. But whom would
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they contact any event of an escape? The administrator pursed
his lips in impatience. Hades has six billion prisoners at
any given time. If if one did manage to escape,
they couldn't very well alert a million planets. You mean
you wouldn't do anything. As I said before, my job
is purely administrative, out of my jurisdiction entirely. Each planet
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has its own police force and handles its internal crime
in its own way. What's legal on Aurora might very
well be illegal on ten thousand other planets, and vice versa.
I see, thank you, Jenner cut the connection slowly. He
flicked the switch open again, hesitated, and then closed it.
He walked out to where his gyro car was parked,
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and in a few minutes set it down on the
roof of Tea's hotel. Tea was just entering the lobby
as Jenner came in, and they went up to his
room together. I'll come right to the point, t he said,
as soon as the door had closed. I just talked
to the local prison administrator for Hades. He looked closely
at Tea. What's that got to do with me, asked
Tea belligerently. Wait until I finished, said Jenner curtly. I
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hired you to test hop our new ship because you
were the best pilot available. I'm not interested in your past,
but most of the company's resources are sunk in that ship.
If something goes wrong because the test pilot is disturbed
or nervous, the company will be bankrupt. I'm not saying
you're an escaped prisoner, but if you were, you'd have
nothing to worry about. What do you mean The administrator
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told me he has no jurisdiction over escaped prisoners. So
you see, if you had escaped, you'd have nothing to fear. Here,
you're out of their jurisdiction. Tea began to laugh wildly.
Out of their jurisdiction, out of their jurisdiction. So that's
the way they put it. Out of their jurisdiction. Stop it,
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said Jenner, sharply, do you want to tell me now?
Tea drew in a gasping breath and sobered. What would
I have to tell you? So? I'm the nervous type.
So you hired me to test hop your new ship,
so I'll test hop it. That's all we agreed on.
What more do you want? Jenner sighed raj t if
that's the way you want it, But I wish. The
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visiphone buzzed, and when Tea flipped the switch, the worried
face of the chief mechanic sprang into focus. Oh there
you are, mister Jenner. Glad I caught you before you left.
We've run into trouble. Well out with it, bark Jenner.
What is it? The mechanic cleared his throat nervously. We
were testing the main gyroscope when it threw a blade.
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How bad is it, asked Jenner? Pretty bad? I'm afraid
it tore up the sub ether scope unit so bad
we'll have to replace it. We can't get any on
Aurora either. We'll have to send to Lennox, and that'll
take close to a month. Raj knock off until I
get there, Bart's Jenner, He slammed over the switch viciously.
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Of all the rotten luck. Can't you get some plant
here on Aurora to hand tool one for you, asked
t No, that's just it, replied Jenner. It's a special alloy.
The owners of the process wouldn't give a any details
on the manufacture anyway. Even if we knew how, we
couldn't duplicate it without their special machine tools. Does that
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mean I'm afraid, so the ship won't be ready for
a month now, a month. I can't wait a month.
You can't wait a month. We've got four million tied
up in that ship, and you tell me you can't
wait a month. Look, mister Jenner, I'll test it without
the unit. That's impossible. The ship would vibrate into a
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billion pieces as soon as it went into subspace. No,
we'll just have to wait. I can't wait, cried Tea.
You'll have to get another pilot. Just a minute. You
can't walk out on your contract if it's a matter
of credits. T shook his head. That's not it at all.
I just can't stay that long. Jenner looked at him angrily. Well,
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your contract isn't up till the end of the week. Anyway.
We'll see what we can do about a replacement. Then,
after Jenner had left Tea, he sat smoking in the darkness.
He placed his elbow on the couch arm and cupped
his chin in his palm. Then, restlessly, he snuffed out
his cigarette and rubbed his hands together. They felt moist
and clammy. He jerked nervously as a click sounded out
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in the hall, only a door opening across the way.
He bit the fleshy part of his middle finger and
then began to worry his ring with his teeth. He
lit another cigarette and dropped it into the disposal Almost immediately,
he got up and began to pace the room six
steps forward, turned six steps back, turned six steps forward
or was it five? This time the walls seemed to
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be closing in constricting. His head felt light, and his
tongue and palate grew dry. He tried to swallow, and
a feeling of nausea came over him. His throat grew tight,
and he felt as though he were choking. Rubbing his
forehead with the back of his hand, it came away
wet with perspiration. He rushed to the window and struggled
futilely with it, forgetting it was sealed shut in the
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air condition hotel. He flung himself at the door, wrenching
it open, and took the escalator three steps at a time,
falling to his knees at the ground floor. A surface
cab was sitting outside just beyond the entrance. He flung
himself in, breathing heavily, and fumbled to drop a coin
in the slot, pulled the control lever all the way over.
Twenty minutes later, the starduster hovered for a moment over Aurora,
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then shimmered and vanished as it went into subspace. October second,
four hundred and thirty fifth year, Galactic Era, the Starduster
materialized just outside the atmosphere of the planet Elesia and
fluttered erratically downward like a wounded bird. A hundred feet
from the surface. The ship hesitated, shuddered throughout her length,
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then dropped like a plummet, crashing heavily into a grove
of trees. For Tea, there was a long period of
blessed darkness, of peace, of non remembering. Then his mind
clawed upward towards consciousness. The fear and uncertainty were with
him again, again, nagging, nibbling, gnawing at his reason. He
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fought to close his mind and drift back down into
the darkness of peace and forgetting. But contrarily, the past
marched in review before his consciousness, the twin worlds of Tholl,
revolving about each other. As he fled down the shallow
ravine before the creeping wall of lava, while the ancient
mountain grunted and belched and coughed up its insides, the
terrible pull of the uncharted black star as it tugged
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at the feeble star duster, the enervating heat and humidity
of perpetually cloudy thymus, pyramids of gleaming Penrex crystals piled
high as mountains, and yule Larsen towering above the landscape,
draining gargantuane rainbows at a single gulp, striding like Paul Bunyan,
across the land in mile long strides and kicking over
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the pyramids of crystals, laughing uproariously at the sport and
Jenner grinning idiotically, pointing a thick finger at him and
repeating over and over, out of their jurisdiction. Nothing to fear,
nothing to fear, nothing to fear. Nothing, stop it, stop it,
cried Tea, and a brilliant burst of light like a
thousand sky rockets seemed to go off in his head.
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He shrieked like an animal in agony, then fell back, sobbing,
bathed in perspiration. Something cool touched his forehead and he
pulled away violently. Then, as his head cleared, he opened
his eyes slowly. A blur of shadows and light shimmering indistinctly.
Then suddenly, like the picture on a visophone, the blurs
coalesced and formed a clear image, and everything was normal again,
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the fear still hovering close, but pushed back for the
time being. A girl stood before him, smiling rather uncertainly.
The sweetness and cleanliness of that smile, after his recent ordeal,
washed over his tortured mind like a cooling astringent, and
he smiled gratefully up at her. She put a cool
palm on his forehead, and as she started to withdraw it,
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he clutched it in an emaciated fist and mumbled indistinctly
through cracked, dry lips. She smiled down at him and
smoothed back his damp hair. She pulled up a chair
beside the bed and continued to stroke his hair until
his eyes closed in sleep. He awoke ravenous and thirsty,
but lay quietly for a time, luxuriating in the feel
(28:13):
of the clean, soft sheets. He was in a simply
but tastefully decorated room. Three of the walls were made
of transparent glass, and the warm golden rays of a
tight g sun bathed the room. Outside, he could see
rolling meadowland broken here and there by sylvan groves. A
brilliantly colored bird swooped down and preened itself for a moment,
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then raised its head and flooded the silence with melody.
Faintly from a grove of trees came an answering treble.
The songbird cocked its head to the side, listening, then
swooped upwards on wings of flashing color. A small squirrelike
creature bounded nervously up to the transparent wall and sat
on its haunches, surveying the room with bright, beady eyes.
(28:55):
As Tea's ears attuned themselves, he was suddenly aware of chirpings,
track clear pitched whistles, and from somewhere in the depths
of the grove a deep pitched gharomf gharumf. A chubby
little man with a round face and alert, twinkling eyes
entered the room. He seemed to radiate happiness and contentment. Well,
I see the patients finally come around, he said, cheerfully.
(29:19):
What happened? Asked t Your ship crashed just beyond that grove.
Tea clutched at him the ship, How bad is it?
I think you were in worse shape than your ship.
You must have had it under control almost to the end,
though how you stayed conscious with space fever is beyond me.
Space fever, so that's it. I remember getting sick and
(29:40):
light headed, and just before I passed out, I flipped
out of subspace, and the automatic finder, of course, took
the ship to the nearest planet. I must have landed
by reflex action. I sure don't remember anything about it. Well,
the man laughed. I have seen better landings, but not
when the pilot had a temperature of one oh five. Way,
You're safe, now, welcome to Alicia. There it was again
(30:05):
safe safe. Tea raised up, then fell back weakly. Is
anything wrong, asked the little man, alarmed. Nothing, I I
just nothing. The man was looking at him questioningly. Alicia mused,
t I seem to remember an old myth brought from
the original Earth. He waved towards the Sylvan setting outside.
(30:27):
The little man smiled, Yes, the old settlers named our planet. Well,
he caught himself. Oh, I'm sorry, I'm doctor Chencey. This
is my home. Tea smiled, well, at least you'll have
to admit I showed good judgment. Crashing next to a
doctor's house. Then more seriously, thanks doc, thanks for everything.
My degrees aren't in medicine, replied doctor Chencey. I'm afraid
(30:50):
I had little to do with your recovery. My daughter's
the one who nursed you. Oh here she is now,
he raised his voice. Come in, Laura, since doctor Chencey
he was using the only chair, She sat down on
the edge of the bed. Here, said the doctor teasingly.
What kind of nurse are you mussing up your patient's bed,
she pouted prettily. He's my patient, then, looking down at
(31:14):
Tea with a smile, you'll be up and around in
no time. Now time, cried Tea, raising up. What's the date.
I've got to know. You've been delirious for two weeks,
answered the doctor. Another two weeks of convalescence and you
ought to be as good as new. But two weeks.
I can't. Can't leave before then, anyway, replied the doctor, calmly.
(31:34):
I knew you'd want your ship repaired, so I had
it hauled to the port. Won't be ready for two
more weeks, so you might as well relax. Tea bit
his lip and clenched his fists to keep from trembling.
It was a moment before he could trust himself to
speak without a quaver in his voice. Nothing else I
can do, I guess thanks anyway. And by the way,
(31:54):
there's enough credits in the ships safe to pay for
the repairs. I'm sure I think we should start the
patient walking tomorrow, said Laura in a mock professional voice.
She punched the ends of Tea's pillow. Now you'd better
get some sleep. You're still very weak, you know. The
days that followed were like an idol for Tea. With Laura,
(32:15):
he wandered through the park like wooded groves. They sat
near shaded pools and ate wild berries while she told
him stories of the founding of Alicia. They held hands
and ran exuberantly across the grassy meadows and waded like
children in the clear brooks. A thousand times a word,
an endearing term sprang to his lips, and each time
the fear clamped his tongue in a visive steel. A
(32:38):
thousand times he wanted to touch her, feel the silkiness
of her hair, the warmth of her lips, But each
time the fear and uncertainty stood between them, like twin
specters of doom, pointing and saying, fool, why torture yourself.
In the daytime, when Laura was with him, it wasn't
so bad. But at night the fear and uncertainty crowded
to the fore and blanked out everything else. It was
(33:00):
then he prayed for the courage to kill himself, and
despised the weakness that made him draw back from the thought.
If only he could stop thinking, make his mind a blank,
but that was death, and death was what he feared.
How long ago was it when he first realized that
hope was an illusion, a false god that smiled and
lied and held out vain promises only to prolong the torture.
(33:23):
Then one day the word came that his ship was repaired.
As though the word were a catalyst, the terrible fear
overwhelmed him, drowning out every other thought, and he knew
he had to leave. When he had no means of
leaving the planet, he could partially close off his dread
and wait resignedly. But now that ship was ready, every
moment he remained was an agony. He led Laura to
(33:46):
their favorite spot by a quiet pool. She looked radiant
and smiled to herself, as though at a secret. He
steeled himself and finally blurted out, Laura, I'm leaving tomorrow.
He hesitated and bit his lip, and thanks for everything. Thanks.
She choked on the words. I'm sorry. He trailed off lamely.
(34:08):
But I thought. She looked down. He reached out and
gently touched her cheek. Can't you see I want to stay,
he pleaded. Then why why she was crying? Now? I
just can't. It's no good. He stood up. She reached
out and caught his hand. Then take me with you.
(34:28):
I've heard you at night, pacing in your room. I
don't know what it is that drives you on and on,
but if space is what you want, let me go
with you. I can help you, darling. You'll see, and someday,
when you grow tired of space, we can come back
to Alicia. She was babbling now. He pulled roughly away. No,
it's no good. I'm if only I could stay. He
(34:51):
brushed her hair softly with his palm, and as she
reached out toward him, he turned and walked swiftly towards
the house, pitying and hating himself. By turn. Laura sat
forlornly by the pool, looking after him. He began to
sweat before he reached the house, and his knees began
to tremble, so he had to stop for a moment
to keep his balance. Determinedly, he started forward again and
(35:13):
continued on past the house to the highway that wound
by half a kilometer away. There he held a passing
ground car and rode to the spaceport, where a few
judiciously distributed credits facilitated his immediate clearance. Before the ship
had even left the atmosphere, he rammed in the subspace
control May fourth, four hundred and thirty seventh year Galactic era,
(35:37):
Tauntalus lay far out on a spiral arm, well away
from the main stream of traffic that flowed through the galaxy.
It was a fair planet, boasting an equitable climate, at
least in the tropic zone, but as yet the population
was small, consisting mostly of administrative officials who served their
allotted time and thankfully returned to their home planets. Closer
to the center of population. Tea entered the Tawl building, and,
(36:00):
after consulting a wall directory, stepped into the antigrav chute
and was whisked high up into the heart of the building.
He stepped out before a plane door, and as he
advanced the center panel, flureessed briefly with the printed legend
Galactic prison authority Ari meffered administrator for Tauntalus. He hesitated
for a moment, then, squaring his shoulders, stepped forward, and
(36:22):
as he crossed the beam, the door swung open before him.
The gray haired man sitting at the desk studying a paper,
looked up and smiled politely. He indicated a chair with
a nod, then bent his head again. After a moment,
he shoved the paper aside and looked questioningly at Tea.
I want to give myself up, blurted Tea. I'm the
(36:43):
administrator for Hades, said the man calmly. I think you
want the local authorities. You don't understand. I escaped from Hades.
No one escapes from Hades, replied the administrator. I escaped,
insisted Tea ten years ago. You can check. I'm tired
of running. I want to go back. This is most unusual,
(37:04):
said the administrator in a disturbed voice. He looked unbelievingly
at Tea. Ten years ago. You say yes, yes, and
I'm ready to go back before it's too late. Can't
you understand. The administrator shook his head pityingly. It's already
too late. I'm sorry. He bent his head guiltily and
began to fumble with the papers on his desk. Tea
(37:27):
started to say something, but the administrator raised his head
and said slowly, it was too late the day you
left Hades. Nothing I can do. He looked down again.
Tea turned and slowly walked out the door. The administrator
didn't look up as Tea walked aimlessly down the deserted corridor.
His footsteps echoed hollowly like a dirge. A line from
(37:48):
an old poem sprang to his mind. We are the dead,
row on row we lie. He was the dead, but
still he chased the chimera of hope, yet knowing in
his heart it was hopeless. June eleventh, four hundred and
thirty seventh year, Galactic era. The star duster pocked and
(38:09):
pitted from innumerable collisions, with dust particles sped out and out.
The close packed suns of the central hub lay far behind.
Here at the rim of the galaxy, the stars lay scattered,
separated by vast distances. A gaunt, hollow eyed figure sat
in the observation bubble staring, half hopefully, half desparingly at
the unimaginable depths beyond the rim June twelfth, four hundred
(38:34):
and thirty seventh year Galactic era. On and on past
the thinning stars raced the patient electronic Bloodhound, invisible, irreversible, indestructible.
Slowly but inexorably accelerating, it flashed by the planet Damocles
at multiples of the speed of light, and, sensing the
proximity of the prey on which it was homed, spurted
(38:57):
into the intergalactic depths after the receding ship, intent on
meshing with and thereby distorting the encephalograph pattern of its target.
It was quite mindless, and the final pattern its meshing
would create would be something quite strange and not very human.
End of faithfully yours by lew Tabacau
Faithfully yours by Lew Tabacaow. If it's too impossibly difficult
to track down and recapture an escaped criminal, there's a
worse thing one might do. July eighteenth, nineteen forty nine
a d the fugitive lay face down in the fetid undergrowth,
(00:20):
drawing in spasmodic lungfuls of air through cracked and swollen lips.
Long before his blue workshirt had been ripped to ribbons,
and his exposed chest showed a spiderwork of scratches where
branches and brambles had sought to restrain him in his
frenzied flight. Across his back, from shoulder to shoulder ran
a deeper cut, around which the caked blood attested to
(00:41):
the needle sharp viciousness of a thornbush a mile to
the north. With each tortured breath, he winced as drops
of sweat ran down, following the spiderwork network and burning
like acid. Incessantly, he rubbed his bruised torso with mud
caked palms to dislodge the gnats and mosquitoes that clung
to him. Gorging shamelessly to the east, he could see
(01:03):
the lights of Fort Mudge, where the railroad cut through
on its way to Jacksonville. He had planned to ride
the freight into Jacksonville, but by now they were stopping
every train and searching along every foot of the railroad
right of way. In the distance, he heard the eerie
keen of a train whistle and visualized the scene as
it was flagged down and searched from engine to caboose.
(01:24):
Directly before him loomed the foreboding northern boundary of the
Okey Finochi Swamp. Unconsciously, he strained his ears, then shuddered
at the night noises that issued from the noisome wilderness,
A frenzied threshing, then a splash, then silence. What drama
of life and death was being played out in that
strange other world of perpetual shadows. In sudden panic, he
(01:49):
jerked erect and cupped his palm round his ear. Far off,
muted by distance, but still unmistakable, he heard the baying
of bloodhounds. Then this was the end. A sob broke
from his throat. What was he an animal to be
hunted down as a sport? Tears of self pity welled
to his eyes as he thought back to a party
(02:09):
and a girl, and laughter and cleanliness in the scent
of magnolia's like a heady whine. But that was so
long ago, so long ago. And now he looked down
at his sweating, lacerated body, his blistered, calloused palms, the black,
broken nails, the cheap workshoes with hemp laces, the shapeless
gray cotton trousers, now wet to the knees. He pulled
(02:33):
back his shoulders and resolutely faced west toward the river,
but stopped short in horror as he heard the sudden
cacophony of barks, yelps, and howls of a pack of
bloodhounds that senses the beginning of the end. He turned
in panic. They couldn't be over half a mile away.
In panic of indecision, he turned first east, then west,
then facing due south. He hesitated a moment to take
(02:55):
one last look at the clear, open skies, and with
a muffled prayer, plum into the brooding depths of the
Oke Finocchi June thirteenth, four hundred and twenty seventh year,
Galactic era. The building still hummed and vibrated with the
dying echoes of the alarm siren as The biophysicist hurried
down the corridor and without breaking stride, pushed open the
(03:18):
door to the director's office. The director shuffled the papers
before him and sighed heavily. His chair creaked protestingly as
he shifted his bulk and looked up. Well he got
clean away, said the biophysicist, and he fixed on the direction.
None at all, sir, And he's got at least two
hours start. That takes in a pretty big area of space. Hmm. Well,
(03:42):
there's just a bare chance. That experimental cruiser is the
fastest thing in space, and it's equipped with the latest
Ethereo radar. If we get started right away, we just might.
That's just it, interrupted the biophysicist. That's the ship he
got away in. The director jumped angrily to his feet.
How did that happen? How can I explain it to
the board. I'm sorry, sir, he was just too You're sorry.
(04:07):
He slumped back in his chair and drummed the desktop
with his fingernails, wearying his lower lip with his teeth.
He exhaled loudly and leaned forward. Well, only one thing
to do, you know, the orders The biophysicist squirmed uncomfortably,
couldn't we send a squadron of ships out to search
and and what, asked the director sarcastically. You don't think
(04:29):
I'd risk a billion credits worth of equipment on a
wild goose chase like that, do you? We could use
up a year's appropriation of fuel and manpower and still
be unable to adequately search a sector one tenth that size.
If he just sat still, a thousand ships couldn't find
him in a thousand years searching at finite speeds. Add
to that the fact that the target is moving at
(04:49):
ultra light speed, and the odds against locating him is
multiplied by a billion. I know, but he can't stay
in space. He'll have to land somewhere sometime. True, but
where and when? Couldn't we alert all the nearby planets?
You know better than that? He could be halfway across
the galaxy before in a therogram reached the nearest planet.
(05:12):
Suppose we sent scout ships to the nearer planets and
asked them to inform their neighbors in the same way.
We'd soon have an expanding circle that he couldn't slip through.
The director smiled wrily. Maybe, but who's going to pay
for all this? By the time the circle was a
thousand light years in diameter, there would be ten thousand
ships and a million clerks working on recapturing one escaped prisoner.
(05:36):
Another thing. I don't know offhand what he's been sentenced for,
but I'll wager there are ten thousand planets on which
his crime would not be a crime. Do you think
we could ever extradite him from such a planet? And
even if, by some incredible stroke of fortune, one of
our agents happened to land on the right planet in
which city would he begin his search? Or suppose our
(05:57):
quarry lands only on uninhabited plane, we can't very well
alert the whole galaxy in the search for just one man.
I know. But but what, interrupted the director? Any other suggestions? No,
all right, he asked for it. You have the pattern,
I presume, feed it to Fido. Yes, sir, But well,
(06:21):
I just don't Do you think I like it, asked
the director fiercely. In the silence that followed, they looked
at each other guiltily. There's nothing else we can do,
said the director. The orders are explicit. No one escapes
from hades, I know, replied the biophysicist. I'm not blaming you.
Only I wish someone else had my job. Well, said
(06:42):
the director heavily. You might as well get started. He
nodded his head in dismissal. As the biophysicist went out
the door, the director looked down once more at the
pile of papers before him. He pulled the top sheet
closer and rubber stamped across its face. Case closed, yes,
he used aloud, closed for us. But he hesitated a moment,
(07:04):
and then, sighing once more, signed his name in the
space provided August sixth, four hundred and thirtieth year Galactic era.
T or Mond sat morosely at the space bar and
alternately wiped his forehead with a soggy handkerchief and sipped
at his frosted rainbow, careful not to disturb the very
colored layers of liquid in the tall, narrow glass. Every
(07:27):
now and then he nervously ran his fingers through his
straight black hair, which lay damply plastered to his head.
His jacket was faded and worn, and above the left
pocket was emblazoned the meteor insignia of the Spaceman. A
dark patch on his back showed where the perspiration had
seeped through. He blinked and rubbed the corner of his
eye as a drop of perspiration ran down and settled there.
(07:51):
A casual look would have classified him as a very
average looking pilot, such as could be found at the
bar of any spaceport by e if space pilots can
ever be classified as average. Spacemen are the last true
adventurers in an age where the debilitating culture of a
highly mechanized civilization has pushed to the very borders of
the galaxy. While most men are fearful and indecisive outside
(08:14):
their narrow specialties, the spacemen must at all times be
ready to deal with the unexpected and the unusual. The
expression steady as a spaceman's nerves had a very real origin.
A closer look at tea would have revealed the error
of a quick classification. He gripped his drink too tightly,
and his eyes darted restlessly from side to side, as
(08:37):
though searching, searching, yet dreading to find the object of
their search. His expressive face contorted in a nervous tick
each time his eyes swept by the clock hanging behind
the bar. He glanced dispiritedly out the window at the
perpetually cloudy sky and idly watched a rivulet of water
race down the dirty pane. He loosened his collar and
(08:58):
futilely mopped at his neck with the side handkerchief, then
irritably flung it to the floor. Hey Joe, he yelled
to the bartender. What's the matter with the air conditioning.
I'm burning up. Take it easy, soothed the bartender, consulting
a thermometer on the wall behind him. It's eighty five
in here. That's as low as the law allows. Can't
have too much difference in the temperature, or all my
(09:20):
customers pass out when they go outside. Why don't you
go into town? They keep it comfortable under the dome.
Don't this planet ever cool? Off, asked ta. The bartender chuckled.
I see you don't know much about thumis. Sometimes it
drops to ninety at night, but not too often. You
ought to be here sometime when the clouds part for
a minute. If you're caught outside, it's third degree burns
(09:43):
for sure. He glanced down at the nearly empty glass.
How about another rainbow. If you get enough of them, menu,
you won't notice the heat. You won't notice anything. He
laughed uproariously at the hoary joke. Tea looked at him disgustedly,
and without answering, bent to his drink once more. He
felt someone jostle his elbow and turned sideways to allow
(10:04):
the newcomer access to the bar. After a moment, he
wiped his forehead on his sleeve. The bartender placed another
rainbow before him. Hey, I didn't order that, he cried.
The bartender nodded toward the next stool on him. Tea
turned and saw a barrel chested, red haired giant holding
up a drink in the immemorial bar toast. He raised
(10:26):
his own glass gingerly, but his trembling hand caused the
layers to mix, and he stared ruefully at the resultant
clayey looking mess. The redhead laughed, Mix another one, Joe,
But Tea's face got red. I came in here to
talk to you anyway, said the giant. You own the
star duster, don't you? Yeah? What about it? Like to
(10:48):
get her out of hock? Who says she's in hock? Look,
said the redhead. Let's not kid each other. Everybody around
this port knows you blew in from Lemmy Tea last
month and can't raise the money to pay the port charges,
much less the refueling fee. And it's no secret that
you're anxious to leave our fair planet. He winked conspiringly
(11:08):
at Tea. So the Redhead glanced at the bartender, who
was busy at the other end of the bar. He
leaned closer and whispered, I know where the Ellen of
Troy is. The Ellen of Troy. Oh, that's right. You
wouldn't know about her. Eight months ago she crashed on
an uninhabited planet somewhere in this sector. So far they've
(11:30):
been unable to find her. He leaned closer. She was
carrying four million in penrex crystals. What's that to me?
The Redhead looked around briefly to make sure no one
was in hearing distance, then whispered softly, without moving his lips.
I told you they can't find her, but I know
where she is. You know, But how look, said the giant, frowning.
(11:56):
I didn't ask why you're so anxious to leave. Well,
i'll clear your ship and we can pick up the
crystals for the salvage fee a million each and all
nice and legal, and we can leave by the end
of the week and be back in probably six months.
Six months. Tea stood up. Sorry, the Redhead grabbed his
(12:16):
arm in a ham like palm. A million each in
six months? What's wrong with that? Tea jerked out of
his grasp. I just can't do it. I don't know
what you're running from, persisted the Redhead. But with a
million credits, you can fight extradition for the rest of
your life. This is your big chance. Can't you see that? Besides,
(12:36):
this planet has some interesting customs. He winked at Tea.
I can introduce you. I can't stay here, interrupted Ta.
You just don't understand, look, cried the Redhead exasperatedly. I'm
offering you a full partnership on a two million credit
salvage deal, and you want to back out because it'll
take six months. On top of that, you're broke and stranded,
(12:57):
and your hanger bill gets bigger every day. If you
don't take me up on this deal, you'll still be
sitting here six months from now, wondering how to get
your ship out of hock if you don't get caught first,
What do you say? What have you got to lose?
What did he have to lose? Tea gripped the edge
of the bar, till his knuckles showed white. No, I
I just can't do it. Why don't you get some
(13:19):
one else? The slow tubs around this port would take
years for the trip. I can see the star Duster
has class fastest thing in the galaxy, said Tea proudly,
then earnestly. I'm sorry, You'll just have to find some
other ship. Think it over, said the redhead. I'll wait
when you change your mind. Look me up. Names Yule Larsen.
(13:40):
He slapped Tea heavily on the back and swaggered toward
the door. He turned and looked back. Better go along
with me. After six months they can auction off your
ship and pay for the port charges, you know. The
door swung shut behind him. Tea sat down again and
bent his head, nursing his drink. His eyes darted nervously
around the room and came to rect on the clock.
(14:01):
A shudder ran through him, and he lowered his eyes quickly.
As he sipped his drink, his eyes returned to the
clock continually, as though drawn there against their will. As
he watched, the minute hand jerked downward, and an involuntary
gasp escaped his lips. The bartender turned quickly anything wrong,
No nothing. As he spoke, the minute hand moved again,
(14:22):
and Tea started nervously upsetting his drink. He sat for
a moment watching the bartender mop up the spreading liquid,
then abruptly got up and tossed a half credit piece
on the bar. He hurried outside, stealing himself to keep
from running. He paused just outside the door, stand still,
He told himself, mustn't run, mustn't run. No use anyway.
(14:43):
If I only knew when, If if I just could
stop and rest, If I had the time, time, time,
that's what I need, late years of time. But when, when,
If only I could be sure? He looked up slowly
at the murky canopy of clouds. If I only knew when,
He looked indecisively up and down the field, then, squaring
(15:05):
his shoulders, resolutely, set out for the administration building. At
this hour, the office was deserted, except for a wispy
haired little man who sat at a desk fussing with
some papers. He looked up questioningly as t came in.
Is my ship recharged and provisioned? Asked, t uh, what's
the name? Please? Tea or Mond? I own the starduster?
(15:29):
The clerk pulled a card from a file on the
desk and studied it. Ah, yes, the starduster. I'd like
to pay my bill and clear the starduster for immediate departure.
Uh very good, mister Ormond. He consulted the card again.
That'll be fourteen hundred and eleven credits, he beamed. We
included a case of Rukeiser's concentrate complements of the management.
(15:50):
He handed a circular to Tea. This is a list
of our ports and facilities on other planets. Our accommodations
are the finest, and we carry a complete line of parts.
He smiled professionally. What about my key, asked t pulling
out his wallet. Uh, let's see number thirty seven. The
clerk started for a numbered board hanging on the wall.
(16:12):
He never got there. Tea whipped a stun gun from
inside his jacket and waved it at the clerk's back.
It caught him in mid stride and unbalanced. He crashed
heavily to the floor. Te glanced briefly down as he
stepped over the paralyzed form, avoiding the accusing eyes, and
snatched the magnetic key off the hook. He forced himself
to walk calmly across the field toward the hangar that
(16:34):
housed the starduster. A uniformed guard stopped him at the
hanger door. May I see you're clearance, sir, he asked politely.
Tea hesitated for a moment. Oh, I'm just going to
get something out of my ship, he said smoothly. The
clerk said it was Raj. The clerk said, but he can't.
The guard tensed. Mind if I check, sir orders, you know.
(16:58):
He bent his head slightly as he pressed knob on
his wrist radio. As his eyes turned downward, Tea swung
the stun gun in an arc that ended on the
back of the guard's head. As he leaped into the
star Duster. He was sorry for a moment that he
hadn't had time to recharge the gun, and hoped he
hadn't struck too hard. October eleventh, four hundred and thirty
(17:19):
third year Galactic era, Tea stepped out of the hangar
and surveyed the twin suns. The pale binaries sat stolidly
on the horizon forty degrees apart. Their mingled light washed
down dimly on the single continent of the planet Aurora.
He started as a man walked around the corner of
the hangar. The man looked at Tea searchingly for a moment,
(17:40):
then asked, anything troubling you, Tea? Why? Why? No, mister Jenner,
you just startled me. That's all. Well, how's everything coming
right on schedule? We'll be ready for the final test
by the end of the week, by the way, asked
Jenner speculatively, how come you ordered the ship stocked and
provisioned for the test? Why? Why? I think she should
(18:02):
be tested under exactly the same conditions as she'll encounter
in actual use. We could have done it a lot
cheaper by just using ballast, said Jenner. After this, I
want to personally see any voucher for over a hundred
credits before it's cleared. Yes, sir, but I just didn't
want to bother you with the details. An expenditure of
(18:22):
over two thousand credits isn't just detail. But let it pass.
It's already done anyway. On the drawing board. She's the
fastest thing in the galaxy, he smiled. If she lives
up to expectations, she'll make your ship look like an
old freighter. We've got four millions sunk into her. So far,
so she'd better check out, Raj. He put his hand
(18:42):
on T's shoulder. You're not worried about testing her, are you?
You've been jumpy lately? Oh no, nothing like that, mister Jenner.
I'm just well, I've been up all night watching them
install the gyroscopes. Think I'll get some sleep, he yawned.
Jenner cupped his chin in his palm and stood staring
after the retreating figure as T turned and looked back nervously.
(19:05):
Jenner entered the hangar office. He spoke softly in the visiphone,
and in a moment, the screen led up. Is this?
The prison administrator asked Jenner? What can I do for you?
My name is Jenner Consolidated spacecraft. Yes, suppose an escaped
prisoner from Hades landed on Aurora. No one escapes from
(19:27):
Hades prison. Well just suppose one did? I never receive
information about escapees. But you're the administrator here. My job,
as the title implies, is purely administrative. I merely arrange
transportation for our annual shipment of prisoners to Hades and
see that the records are kept straight. But whom would
(19:50):
they contact any event of an escape? The administrator pursed
his lips in impatience. Hades has six billion prisoners at
any given time. If if one did manage to escape,
they couldn't very well alert a million planets. You mean
you wouldn't do anything. As I said before, my job
is purely administrative, out of my jurisdiction entirely. Each planet
(20:13):
has its own police force and handles its internal crime
in its own way. What's legal on Aurora might very
well be illegal on ten thousand other planets, and vice versa.
I see, thank you, Jenner cut the connection slowly. He
flicked the switch open again, hesitated, and then closed it.
He walked out to where his gyro car was parked,
(20:35):
and in a few minutes set it down on the
roof of Tea's hotel. Tea was just entering the lobby
as Jenner came in, and they went up to his
room together. I'll come right to the point, t he said,
as soon as the door had closed. I just talked
to the local prison administrator for Hades. He looked closely
at Tea. What's that got to do with me, asked
Tea belligerently. Wait until I finished, said Jenner curtly. I
(20:58):
hired you to test hop our new ship because you
were the best pilot available. I'm not interested in your past,
but most of the company's resources are sunk in that ship.
If something goes wrong because the test pilot is disturbed
or nervous, the company will be bankrupt. I'm not saying
you're an escaped prisoner, but if you were, you'd have
nothing to worry about. What do you mean The administrator
(21:22):
told me he has no jurisdiction over escaped prisoners. So
you see, if you had escaped, you'd have nothing to fear. Here,
you're out of their jurisdiction. Tea began to laugh wildly.
Out of their jurisdiction, out of their jurisdiction. So that's
the way they put it. Out of their jurisdiction. Stop it,
(21:44):
said Jenner, sharply, do you want to tell me now?
Tea drew in a gasping breath and sobered. What would
I have to tell you? So? I'm the nervous type.
So you hired me to test hop your new ship,
so I'll test hop it. That's all we agreed on.
What more do you want? Jenner sighed raj t if
that's the way you want it, But I wish. The
(22:05):
visiphone buzzed, and when Tea flipped the switch, the worried
face of the chief mechanic sprang into focus. Oh there
you are, mister Jenner. Glad I caught you before you left.
We've run into trouble. Well out with it, bark Jenner.
What is it? The mechanic cleared his throat nervously. We
were testing the main gyroscope when it threw a blade.
(22:27):
How bad is it, asked Jenner? Pretty bad? I'm afraid
it tore up the sub ether scope unit so bad
we'll have to replace it. We can't get any on
Aurora either. We'll have to send to Lennox, and that'll
take close to a month. Raj knock off until I
get there, Bart's Jenner, He slammed over the switch viciously.
(22:47):
Of all the rotten luck. Can't you get some plant
here on Aurora to hand tool one for you, asked
t No, that's just it, replied Jenner. It's a special alloy.
The owners of the process wouldn't give a any details
on the manufacture anyway. Even if we knew how, we
couldn't duplicate it without their special machine tools. Does that
(23:08):
mean I'm afraid, so the ship won't be ready for
a month now, a month. I can't wait a month.
You can't wait a month. We've got four million tied
up in that ship, and you tell me you can't
wait a month. Look, mister Jenner, I'll test it without
the unit. That's impossible. The ship would vibrate into a
(23:28):
billion pieces as soon as it went into subspace. No,
we'll just have to wait. I can't wait, cried Tea.
You'll have to get another pilot. Just a minute. You
can't walk out on your contract if it's a matter
of credits. T shook his head. That's not it at all.
I just can't stay that long. Jenner looked at him angrily. Well,
(23:52):
your contract isn't up till the end of the week. Anyway.
We'll see what we can do about a replacement. Then,
after Jenner had left Tea, he sat smoking in the darkness.
He placed his elbow on the couch arm and cupped
his chin in his palm. Then, restlessly, he snuffed out
his cigarette and rubbed his hands together. They felt moist
and clammy. He jerked nervously as a click sounded out
(24:14):
in the hall, only a door opening across the way.
He bit the fleshy part of his middle finger and
then began to worry his ring with his teeth. He
lit another cigarette and dropped it into the disposal Almost immediately,
he got up and began to pace the room six
steps forward, turned six steps back, turned six steps forward
or was it five? This time the walls seemed to
(24:37):
be closing in constricting. His head felt light, and his
tongue and palate grew dry. He tried to swallow, and
a feeling of nausea came over him. His throat grew tight,
and he felt as though he were choking. Rubbing his
forehead with the back of his hand, it came away
wet with perspiration. He rushed to the window and struggled
futilely with it, forgetting it was sealed shut in the
(24:59):
air condition hotel. He flung himself at the door, wrenching
it open, and took the escalator three steps at a time,
falling to his knees at the ground floor. A surface
cab was sitting outside just beyond the entrance. He flung
himself in, breathing heavily, and fumbled to drop a coin
in the slot, pulled the control lever all the way over.
Twenty minutes later, the starduster hovered for a moment over Aurora,
(25:23):
then shimmered and vanished as it went into subspace. October second,
four hundred and thirty fifth year, Galactic Era, the Starduster
materialized just outside the atmosphere of the planet Elesia and
fluttered erratically downward like a wounded bird. A hundred feet
from the surface. The ship hesitated, shuddered throughout her length,
(25:43):
then dropped like a plummet, crashing heavily into a grove
of trees. For Tea, there was a long period of
blessed darkness, of peace, of non remembering. Then his mind
clawed upward towards consciousness. The fear and uncertainty were with
him again, again, nagging, nibbling, gnawing at his reason. He
(26:04):
fought to close his mind and drift back down into
the darkness of peace and forgetting. But contrarily, the past
marched in review before his consciousness, the twin worlds of Tholl,
revolving about each other. As he fled down the shallow
ravine before the creeping wall of lava, while the ancient
mountain grunted and belched and coughed up its insides, the
terrible pull of the uncharted black star as it tugged
(26:26):
at the feeble star duster, the enervating heat and humidity
of perpetually cloudy thymus, pyramids of gleaming Penrex crystals piled
high as mountains, and yule Larsen towering above the landscape,
draining gargantuane rainbows at a single gulp, striding like Paul Bunyan,
across the land in mile long strides and kicking over
(26:47):
the pyramids of crystals, laughing uproariously at the sport and
Jenner grinning idiotically, pointing a thick finger at him and
repeating over and over, out of their jurisdiction. Nothing to fear,
nothing to fear, nothing to fear. Nothing, stop it, stop it,
cried Tea, and a brilliant burst of light like a
thousand sky rockets seemed to go off in his head.
(27:09):
He shrieked like an animal in agony, then fell back, sobbing,
bathed in perspiration. Something cool touched his forehead and he
pulled away violently. Then, as his head cleared, he opened
his eyes slowly. A blur of shadows and light shimmering indistinctly.
Then suddenly, like the picture on a visophone, the blurs
coalesced and formed a clear image, and everything was normal again,
(27:31):
the fear still hovering close, but pushed back for the
time being. A girl stood before him, smiling rather uncertainly.
The sweetness and cleanliness of that smile, after his recent ordeal,
washed over his tortured mind like a cooling astringent, and
he smiled gratefully up at her. She put a cool
palm on his forehead, and as she started to withdraw it,
(27:52):
he clutched it in an emaciated fist and mumbled indistinctly
through cracked, dry lips. She smiled down at him and
smoothed back his damp hair. She pulled up a chair
beside the bed and continued to stroke his hair until
his eyes closed in sleep. He awoke ravenous and thirsty,
but lay quietly for a time, luxuriating in the feel
(28:13):
of the clean, soft sheets. He was in a simply
but tastefully decorated room. Three of the walls were made
of transparent glass, and the warm golden rays of a
tight g sun bathed the room. Outside, he could see
rolling meadowland broken here and there by sylvan groves. A
brilliantly colored bird swooped down and preened itself for a moment,
(28:34):
then raised its head and flooded the silence with melody.
Faintly from a grove of trees came an answering treble.
The songbird cocked its head to the side, listening, then
swooped upwards on wings of flashing color. A small squirrelike
creature bounded nervously up to the transparent wall and sat
on its haunches, surveying the room with bright, beady eyes.
(28:55):
As Tea's ears attuned themselves, he was suddenly aware of chirpings,
track clear pitched whistles, and from somewhere in the depths
of the grove a deep pitched gharomf gharumf. A chubby
little man with a round face and alert, twinkling eyes
entered the room. He seemed to radiate happiness and contentment. Well,
I see the patients finally come around, he said, cheerfully.
(29:19):
What happened? Asked t Your ship crashed just beyond that grove.
Tea clutched at him the ship, How bad is it?
I think you were in worse shape than your ship.
You must have had it under control almost to the end,
though how you stayed conscious with space fever is beyond me.
Space fever, so that's it. I remember getting sick and
(29:40):
light headed, and just before I passed out, I flipped
out of subspace, and the automatic finder, of course, took
the ship to the nearest planet. I must have landed
by reflex action. I sure don't remember anything about it. Well,
the man laughed. I have seen better landings, but not
when the pilot had a temperature of one oh five. Way,
You're safe, now, welcome to Alicia. There it was again
(30:05):
safe safe. Tea raised up, then fell back weakly. Is
anything wrong, asked the little man, alarmed. Nothing, I I
just nothing. The man was looking at him questioningly. Alicia mused,
t I seem to remember an old myth brought from
the original Earth. He waved towards the Sylvan setting outside.
(30:27):
The little man smiled, Yes, the old settlers named our planet. Well,
he caught himself. Oh, I'm sorry, I'm doctor Chencey. This
is my home. Tea smiled, well, at least you'll have
to admit I showed good judgment. Crashing next to a
doctor's house. Then more seriously, thanks doc, thanks for everything.
My degrees aren't in medicine, replied doctor Chencey. I'm afraid
(30:50):
I had little to do with your recovery. My daughter's
the one who nursed you. Oh here she is now,
he raised his voice. Come in, Laura, since doctor Chencey
he was using the only chair, She sat down on
the edge of the bed. Here, said the doctor teasingly.
What kind of nurse are you mussing up your patient's bed,
she pouted prettily. He's my patient, then, looking down at
(31:14):
Tea with a smile, you'll be up and around in
no time. Now time, cried Tea, raising up. What's the date.
I've got to know. You've been delirious for two weeks,
answered the doctor. Another two weeks of convalescence and you
ought to be as good as new. But two weeks.
I can't. Can't leave before then, anyway, replied the doctor, calmly.
(31:34):
I knew you'd want your ship repaired, so I had
it hauled to the port. Won't be ready for two
more weeks, so you might as well relax. Tea bit
his lip and clenched his fists to keep from trembling.
It was a moment before he could trust himself to
speak without a quaver in his voice. Nothing else I
can do, I guess thanks anyway. And by the way,
(31:54):
there's enough credits in the ships safe to pay for
the repairs. I'm sure I think we should start the
patient walking tomorrow, said Laura in a mock professional voice.
She punched the ends of Tea's pillow. Now you'd better
get some sleep. You're still very weak, you know. The
days that followed were like an idol for Tea. With Laura,
(32:15):
he wandered through the park like wooded groves. They sat
near shaded pools and ate wild berries while she told
him stories of the founding of Alicia. They held hands
and ran exuberantly across the grassy meadows and waded like
children in the clear brooks. A thousand times a word,
an endearing term sprang to his lips, and each time
the fear clamped his tongue in a visive steel. A
(32:38):
thousand times he wanted to touch her, feel the silkiness
of her hair, the warmth of her lips, But each
time the fear and uncertainty stood between them, like twin
specters of doom, pointing and saying, fool, why torture yourself.
In the daytime, when Laura was with him, it wasn't
so bad. But at night the fear and uncertainty crowded
to the fore and blanked out everything else. It was
(33:00):
then he prayed for the courage to kill himself, and
despised the weakness that made him draw back from the thought.
If only he could stop thinking, make his mind a blank,
but that was death, and death was what he feared.
How long ago was it when he first realized that
hope was an illusion, a false god that smiled and
lied and held out vain promises only to prolong the torture.
(33:23):
Then one day the word came that his ship was repaired.
As though the word were a catalyst, the terrible fear
overwhelmed him, drowning out every other thought, and he knew
he had to leave. When he had no means of
leaving the planet, he could partially close off his dread
and wait resignedly. But now that ship was ready, every
moment he remained was an agony. He led Laura to
(33:46):
their favorite spot by a quiet pool. She looked radiant
and smiled to herself, as though at a secret. He
steeled himself and finally blurted out, Laura, I'm leaving tomorrow.
He hesitated and bit his lip, and thanks for everything. Thanks.
She choked on the words. I'm sorry. He trailed off lamely.
(34:08):
But I thought. She looked down. He reached out and
gently touched her cheek. Can't you see I want to stay,
he pleaded. Then why why she was crying? Now? I
just can't. It's no good. He stood up. She reached
out and caught his hand. Then take me with you.
(34:28):
I've heard you at night, pacing in your room. I
don't know what it is that drives you on and on,
but if space is what you want, let me go
with you. I can help you, darling. You'll see, and someday,
when you grow tired of space, we can come back
to Alicia. She was babbling now. He pulled roughly away. No,
it's no good. I'm if only I could stay. He
(34:51):
brushed her hair softly with his palm, and as she
reached out toward him, he turned and walked swiftly towards
the house, pitying and hating himself. By turn. Laura sat
forlornly by the pool, looking after him. He began to
sweat before he reached the house, and his knees began
to tremble, so he had to stop for a moment
to keep his balance. Determinedly, he started forward again and
(35:13):
continued on past the house to the highway that wound
by half a kilometer away. There he held a passing
ground car and rode to the spaceport, where a few
judiciously distributed credits facilitated his immediate clearance. Before the ship
had even left the atmosphere, he rammed in the subspace
control May fourth, four hundred and thirty seventh year Galactic era,
(35:37):
Tauntalus lay far out on a spiral arm, well away
from the main stream of traffic that flowed through the galaxy.
It was a fair planet, boasting an equitable climate, at
least in the tropic zone, but as yet the population
was small, consisting mostly of administrative officials who served their
allotted time and thankfully returned to their home planets. Closer
to the center of population. Tea entered the Tawl building, and,
(36:00):
after consulting a wall directory, stepped into the antigrav chute
and was whisked high up into the heart of the building.
He stepped out before a plane door, and as he
advanced the center panel, flureessed briefly with the printed legend
Galactic prison authority Ari meffered administrator for Tauntalus. He hesitated
for a moment, then, squaring his shoulders, stepped forward, and
(36:22):
as he crossed the beam, the door swung open before him.
The gray haired man sitting at the desk studying a paper,
looked up and smiled politely. He indicated a chair with
a nod, then bent his head again. After a moment,
he shoved the paper aside and looked questioningly at Tea.
I want to give myself up, blurted Tea. I'm the
(36:43):
administrator for Hades, said the man calmly. I think you
want the local authorities. You don't understand. I escaped from Hades.
No one escapes from Hades, replied the administrator. I escaped,
insisted Tea ten years ago. You can check. I'm tired
of running. I want to go back. This is most unusual,
(37:04):
said the administrator in a disturbed voice. He looked unbelievingly
at Tea. Ten years ago. You say yes, yes, and
I'm ready to go back before it's too late. Can't
you understand. The administrator shook his head pityingly. It's already
too late. I'm sorry. He bent his head guiltily and
began to fumble with the papers on his desk. Tea
(37:27):
started to say something, but the administrator raised his head
and said slowly, it was too late the day you
left Hades. Nothing I can do. He looked down again.
Tea turned and slowly walked out the door. The administrator
didn't look up as Tea walked aimlessly down the deserted corridor.
His footsteps echoed hollowly like a dirge. A line from
(37:48):
an old poem sprang to his mind. We are the dead,
row on row we lie. He was the dead, but
still he chased the chimera of hope, yet knowing in
his heart it was hopeless. June eleventh, four hundred and
thirty seventh year, Galactic era. The star duster pocked and
(38:09):
pitted from innumerable collisions, with dust particles sped out and out.
The close packed suns of the central hub lay far behind.
Here at the rim of the galaxy, the stars lay scattered,
separated by vast distances. A gaunt, hollow eyed figure sat
in the observation bubble staring, half hopefully, half desparingly at
the unimaginable depths beyond the rim June twelfth, four hundred
(38:34):
and thirty seventh year Galactic era. On and on past
the thinning stars raced the patient electronic Bloodhound, invisible, irreversible, indestructible.
Slowly but inexorably accelerating, it flashed by the planet Damocles
at multiples of the speed of light, and, sensing the
proximity of the prey on which it was homed, spurted
(38:57):
into the intergalactic depths after the receding ship, intent on
meshing with and thereby distorting the encephalograph pattern of its target.
It was quite mindless, and the final pattern its meshing
would create would be something quite strange and not very human.
End of faithfully yours by lew Tabacau
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