April 26, 2022 • 23 mins
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(00:00):
Death Wish by Robert Sheckley. Comparedwith a spaceship in distress, going to
Hell in a handbasket is roomy andslow. The space freighter Queen Deardree was
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a great, squat pockmarked vessel ofthe earth Mars run, and she never
gave any one a bit of troublethat should have been sufficient warning to mister
Watkins. Her engineer. Watkins wasfond of saying that there are two kinds
of equipment, the kind that failsbit by bit and the kind that fails
all at once. Watkins was shortand red faced, magnificently mustachhed, and
(00:45):
always a little out of breath.With a cigar in his hand over a
glass of beer. He talked mostcynically about his ship in the immemorial fashion
of engineers, But in reality Watkinswas foolishly infatuated with Deardree, idealized her,
humanized her, and couldn't conceive ofanything serious ever happening on this particular
(01:07):
underdre. Soared away from Terra atthe proper speed, mister Watkins signaled that
fuel was being consumed at the properrate, and Captain Somers cut the engines
at the proper moment, indicated bymister Radgick, the navigator. As soon
as Point Abel had been reached andthe engine stopped, Summers frowned and studied
his complex control board. He wasa thin and meticulous man, and he
(01:32):
operated his ship with mechanical perfection.He was well liked in the front offices
of Michelson's Space Lines, where oldMan Michelson pointed to Captain Summers reports as
models of neatness and efficiency. OnMars, he stayed at the Officers Club,
eschewing the stews and dives of Marsport. On Earth, he lived in
(01:53):
a little Vermont cottage and enjoyed thequiet companionship of two cats, a Japanese
houseboy and a wife. His instructionsread true, and yet he sensed something
was wrong. Summers knew every creekrattle and groan that Deirdre was capable of
making during blast off. He hadheard something different in space. Something different
(02:16):
had to be wrong, mister Ratchick, he said, turning to his navigator,
would you check the cargo. Ibelieve something may have shifted you,
bet, Ratchik said, cheerfully.He was an almost offensively handsome young man
with black wavy hair, blaze,blue eyes, and a cleft chin.
(02:37):
Despite his appearance, Ratchick was thoroughlyqualified for his position, But he was
only one of fifty thousand thoroughly qualifiedmen who lusted for a berth on one
of the fourteen spaceships in existence.Only Stephen Ratchik had had the foresight,
appearance, and fortitude to court andwed Helga old man Michelson's eldest daughter.
(02:59):
Ratcheck went aft to the cargo hold. Deardree was carrying transistors this time,
and microfilm, books and platinum filaments, salamis, and other items that could
not as yet be produced on Mars, but the bulk of her space was
taken by the immense force and computer. Ratgick checked the positioning lines on the
monster, examined the stays and turnbucklesthat held it in place, and returned
(03:23):
it to the cabin. While anorder boss, he reported to Captain Somers
with a smile that only an employer'sson in law can both manage and afford.
Mister Watkins, do you read anything? Watkins was at his own instrument
panel, Not a thing, sir. I'll vouch for every bit of equipment
(03:44):
in Deardree very well. How longbefore we reach Point Baker. Three minutes.
Chief Ratchick said, good. Thespaceship hung in the void, all
sensation of speed lost for a lackof a reference point. Beyond the portholes
was darkness, the true color ofthe universe, perforated by the brilliant lost
(04:05):
points of the stars. Captain Somersturned away from the disturbing reminder of his
extreme finitude and wondered if he couldland Deardree without shifting the computer. It
was by far the largest, heaviestand most delicate piece of equipment ever transported
in space. He worried about thatmachine. Its value ran into the billions
(04:28):
of dollars for Mars Colony had orderedthe best possible, a machine whose utility
would offset the immense transportation charge acrossspace. As a result, the first
in computer was perhaps the most complexand advanced machine ever built by man.
Ten seconds to point Baker, Ragicannounced very well. Summers readied himself at
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the control board four three two one. Fire activated the engines. Acceleration pressed
the three men back into their couches, and more acceleration, and shockingly,
still more acceleration the fuel. Watkinsyelped, watching his indicators spinning the course.
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Ratchet gasped, fighting for breath.Captain Somers cut the engine switch.
The engines continued firing, pressing themen deeper into their couches. The cabin
lights flickered, went out, cameon again, and still the acceleration mounted,
and Deardrey's engines howled in agony.Thrusting the ship forward, Summers raised
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one leaden hand and inched it towardthe emergency cut off switch. With a
fantastic expenditure of energy, he reachedthe switch and pressed it. The engines
stopped with dramatic suddenness, while torturedmetal creaked and groaned. The lights flickered
rapidly, as though Deardree were blinkingin pain. They steadied, and then
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there was silence. Watkins hurried tothe engine room. He returned morosely.
Of all the damned things, hemuttered, what was it? Captain Sommers
asked, main firing circuit? Itfused on us? He shook his head
metal fatigue. I'd say it musthave been flawed for years. When was
(06:23):
it last checked out? Well,it's a sealed unit, supposed to outlast
the ship, absolutely foolproof unless it'sflawed don't blame it on me. Those
circuits are supposed to be x rayed, he treated, fluoroscope. You just
can't trust machinery. At last,Watkins believed that engineering axiom. How are
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we on fuel? Captain Sommers asked, Not enough left to push a kiddy
car down main street? Watkins said, gloomily, if I could get my
hands on that factory inspector. CaptainSummers turned to Ratchick, who was seated
at the navigator's desk, conched overhis charts. How does this affect our
course? Ratchick finished the computation hewas working on, a nod thoughtfully at
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his pencil. It kills us.We're going to cross the orbit of Mars
before Mars gets there? How long? Before too long? Captain? We're
flying out of the Solar system likea proverbial bat out of hell. Ratchick
smiled, a courageous, devil maycare smile, which Watkins found singularly inappropriate.
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Damn it, man, he roared, don't just leave it there.
We've got a little feel left.We can turn her, can't we.
You are a navigator, aren't youI am? Ragick said icily. And
if I computed my course the wayyou maintain your engines, we'd be plowing
through Australia, now, why youlittle company toady. At least I got
(07:56):
my job legitimately, not by marrying. That's enough off, Captain Summers cut
in. Watkins, his face amodeled red, his mustache bristling, looked
like a walrus about to charge,and Ratchick, eyes glittering, was waiting
hopefully no more of this, Summerssaid, I give the orders here,
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then give some Watkins snapped, tellhim to plot a return curve. This
is life for death, all themore reason for remaining cool, mister Ratchick.
Can you plot such a course?First thing? I tried? Ratchick
said, not a chance. Though, on the fuel we have left,
we can turn a degree or two, but it won't help. Watkins said,
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of course, it will curve backinto the Solar System. Sure,
but the best curve we can makewill take a few thousand years for us
to complete, perhaps a landfall onsome other planet neptune Uranus. Ratchick shook
his head. Even if an outerplanet were in the right place at the
right time, we'd need fuel,a lot of fuel to get into a
(09:05):
breaking orbit. And if we could, who'd come get us? No ship
has gone past Mars yet. Atleast we'd have a chance, Watkins said.
Maybe. Ragick agreed indifferently, butwe can't swing it. I'm afraid
you'll have to kiss the Solar system. Goodbye. Captain Somers wiped his forehead
(09:28):
and tried to think of a plan. He found it difficult to concentrate.
There was too great a discrepancy betweenhis knowledge of the situation and its appearance.
He knew intellectually that his ship wastraveling out of the Solar System at
a tremendous rate of speed, butin appearance they were stationary hung in the
Abyss, three men trapped in asmall hot room, breathing the smell of
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hot metal and perspiration. What shallwe do, Captain Watkins asked. Summers
frowned at the engineer. Did theman expect him to pull a solution out
of the air? How was heeven supposed to concentrate on the problem.
He had to slow the ship,turn it, but his senses told him
that the ship was not moving.How then, could speed constitute a problem?
(10:16):
He couldn't help but feel that thereal problem was to get away from
these high strung, squabbling men.To escape from this hot, smelly little
room. Captain, you must havesome idea. Somers tried to shake his
feeling of unreality. The problem,the real problem, he told himself,
was how to stop the ship.He looked around the fixed cabin and out
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of the porthole at the unmoving stars. We are moving very rapidly, he
thought. Unconvinced, Ratchick said,disgustedly, our noble captain can't face the
situation. Of course I can,Somers objected, feeling very light headed and
(11:00):
unreal. I can pilot any courseyou lay down. That's my only real
responsibility plot us, of course toMars. Sure, Radchick said, laughing,
I can. I will engineer.I'm going to need plenty of fuel
for this course, about ten tons. See that I get it right,
you are, said Watkinson, Captain, I'd like to put in a requisition
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for ten tons of fuel. Requisitiongranted, Somers said, all right,
gentlemen, responsibility is inevitably circular.Let's get a grip on ourselves, mister
Radgick, suppose you radio Mars.When contact had been established, Somers took
the microphone and stated their situation.The company official at the other end seemed
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to have trouble grasping it. Butcan't you turn the ship, he asked,
bewilderedly, any kind of orbit.No, I've just explained that.
Then what do you propose to do, Captain, That's exactly what I'm asking
you. There was a babble ofvoices from the loudspeaker, punctuated by bursts
(12:07):
of static. The lights flickered andreception began to fade. Ratchick, working
frantically, managed to re establish thecontact Captain. The official on Mars said,
we can't think of a thing.If you could swing into any sort
of orbit, I can't under thecircumstances. You have the right to try
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anything at all, anything, CaptainSummer's groaned. Listen, I can think
of just one thing. We couldbail out in space suits as near Mars
as possible, link ourselves together,take the portable transmitter. It wouldn't give
much of a signal, but you'dknow our approximate position. Everything would have
to be figured pretty closely. Thosesuits just carry twelve hours here, but
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it's a chance. There was aconfusion of voices from the other end.
Then the official said, I'm sorry, captain, what I'm telling you it's
our one chance. Captain. Theonly ship on Mars now is the Diana.
Her engines are being overhauled. Howlong before she can be space born?
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Three weeks at least, and aship from Earth would take too long,
Captain, I wish we could thinkof something about the only thing we
can suggest. The reception suddenly failed. Ratchick cursed frustratedly as he worked over
the radio. Watkins gnawed at hismustache. Summers glanced out of a porthole
and looked hurriedly away for the stars. Their destination were impossibly distant. They
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heard static again, faintly. NowI can't get much more, Ratchik said,
this damned reception. What could theyhave been suggesting? Whatever it was,
said Watkins. They didn't think itwould work. What the hell does
that matter, Ratchick asked, annoyed. It had give us something to do.
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They heard the official's voice, awhisper across space. Can you hear
suggest? At full amplification? Thevoice faded, then returned. Can only
suggest most unlikely? But try,calculator, try The voice was gone,
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and then even the static was gone. That does it, Ratchik said,
the calculator Did he mean the Farrisoncomputer in our hold, I see what
he meant, said Captain Sommers.The Farison is a very advanced job.
No one knows the limits of itspotential. He suggests we present our problem
to it. That's ridiculous, Watkinssnorted. This problem has no solution.
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It doesn't seem to Summers agreed.But the big computers have solved other apparently
impossible problems. We can't lose anythingby trying, no, said Ratchick.
As long as we don't pin anyhopes on it, that's right. We
don't dare hope, mister Watkins.I believe this is your department. Oh
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what's the use, Watkins asked,You say, don't hope, but both
of you are hoping anyhow. Youthink the big electronic god is going to
save your lives. Well, it'snot. We have to try, Somers
told him. We don't. Iwouldn't give it the satisfaction of turning us
down. They stared at him invacant astonishment. Now you're implying that machines
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think, said Ratgick. Of courseI am, Watkins said, because they
do. No, I'm not outof my head. Any engineer will tell
you that a complex machine has apersonality. All its own. Do you
know what that personality is like?Cold, withdrawn, uncaring, unfeeling.
A machine's only purpose is to frustratedesire and produce two problems for every one
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it solves. And do you knowwhy a machine feels this way? You're
hysterical, Summers told him, Iam not. A machine feels this way
because it knows it is an unnaturalcreation in nature's domain. Therefore it wishes
to reach entropy and cease a mechanicaldeath wish. I've never heard such gibberish
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in my life, Summers said,are you going to hook up that computer?
Of course, I'm human. Ikeep trying. I just wanted you
to understand fully that there is nohope. He went to the cargo hauld.
After he had gone, Ratchick grinnedand shook his head. We'd better
watch him. He'll be all right, Summers said, maybe, maybe not.
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Ratchick pursed his lips thoughtfully. He'sblaming the situation on a machine personality
now trying to absolve himself of guilt, and it is his fault that we're
in this spot. An engineer isresponsible for all equipment. I don't believe
you can put the blame on him. So dogmatically, Summers replied, sure
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I can. Ragick said, Ipersonally don't care, though this is as
good a way to die as anyother, and better than most kept in
Summer's perspiration from his face. Again, the notion came to him that the
problem, the real problem, wasto find a way out of this hot,
smelly, motionless little box. Ragicksaid, death in space is an
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appealing idea in certain ways. Imaginean entire spaceship for your tomb, and
you have a variety of ways ofactually dying. Thirst and starvation I rule
out as unimaginative, but there arepossibilities in heat, cold, implosion,
explosion. This is pretty morbid,Summers said, I'm a pretty morbid fellow.
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Ratchick said carelessly, But at leastI'm not blaming inanimate objects the way
Watkins is, or permitting myself theluxury of shock like you. He studied
Summer's face. This is your firstreal emergency, isn't it, Captain?
I suppose so, Summers answered,vaguely, And you're responding to it like
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a stunned ox. Ratchick said,wake up, captain. If you can't
live with joy, at least tryto extract some pleasure from your dying.
Shut up, Summers said, withno heat. Why don't you read a
book or something. I've read allthe books on board. I have nothing
to distract me except an analysis ofyour character. Watkins returned to the cabin.
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Well, I've activated your big electronicgod. Would anyone care to make
up burnt offering in front of it? Have you given it the problem?
Not yet? I decided to conferwith the High Priest. What shall I
request of the demons? Sir,give it all the data you can,
Summers said, fuel, oxygen,water, food, that sort of thing.
(19:14):
Then tell it we want to returnto Earth alive. He added,
it'll love that, Watkins said,It'll get such pleasure out of rejecting our
problem as unsolvable or better yet insufficientdata. In that way, it can
hint that a solution is possible,but just outside our reach. It can
keep us hoping. Summers and Ratchickfollowed him into the cargo hold. The
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computer activated, now hummed softly.Lights flashed swiftly over its panels, blue
and white and red. Watkins punchedbuttons and turned dials for fifteen minutes,
then moved back. What's for thered light on tub. He said,
that means the problem is rejected.Don't say it, Ratchick warned. Quickly,
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Watkins laughed, superstitious, little fellow, aren't you but not incompetent?
Ratchick said, smiling, can't youtwo quitted? Summers demanded, and both
men turned startledly to face him.Behold, Ratchick said, the sleeper has
awakened after a fashion, said Watkins, snickering. Summers suddenly felt that if
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death or rescue did not come quickly, they would kill each other or drive
each other crazy. Look, Ratchicksaid. A light on the computer's panel
was flashing green. Must be amistake, said Watkins. Green means the
problem is solvable within the conditions setdown. Solvable, Ratchick said, But
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it's impossible, Watkins argued, it'sfooling us, leading us on. Don't
be superstitious, Ratchick mocked, howsoon do we get the solution? It's
coming now. Watkins pointed to apaper tape inching out of a slot in
the machine's face. But there mustbe something wrong. They watched as millimeter
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by millimeter, the tape crept down. The computer hummed, its lights flashing
green. Then the hums stopped.The green lights blazed once more and faded.
What happened? Ratchick wanted to knowit's finished? Watkins said, pick
it up, read it. Youread it, you won't get me to
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play its game. Ratchick laughed nervouslyand rubbed his hands together, but didn't
move. Both men turned to Somers. Captain, it's your responsibility. Go
ahead. Captain Somers looked with loathingat his engineer and navigator. His responsibility,
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everything was his responsibility. Would theynever leave him alone? He went
up to the machine, pulled thetape free read it with slow deliberation.
What does it say, Sir?Rajick asked, is it possible? Watkins
urged, Oh yes, Smers saidit's possible. He laughed and looked around
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the hot, smelly, low ceilingedlittle room with its locked doors and windows.
What is it? Ragick shouted.Summers said, you figured a few
thousand years to return to the solarsystem. Ragic, Well, the computer
agrees with you, twenty three hundredyears to be precise. Therefore, it
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has given us a suitable longevity serumtwenty three hundred years. Ragick mumbled,
I suppose we hibernate or something ofthe sort. Not at all, Summers
said calmly. As a matter offact, this serum does away quite nicely
with the need for sleep. Westay awake and watch each other. The
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three men looked at one another andat the sickeningly familiar room, smelling of
metal and perspiration, its sealed doorsand windows that stared at an unchanging spectacle
of stars. Watkins said, yes, that's the sort of thing it would
do. And of death Wish byRobert Sheckley
Death Wish by Robert Sheckley. Comparedwith a spaceship in distress, going to
Hell in a handbasket is roomy andslow. The space freighter Queen Deardree was
(00:20):
a great, squat pockmarked vessel ofthe earth Mars run, and she never
gave any one a bit of troublethat should have been sufficient warning to mister
Watkins. Her engineer. Watkins wasfond of saying that there are two kinds
of equipment, the kind that failsbit by bit and the kind that fails
all at once. Watkins was shortand red faced, magnificently mustachhed, and
(00:45):
always a little out of breath.With a cigar in his hand over a
glass of beer. He talked mostcynically about his ship in the immemorial fashion
of engineers, But in reality Watkinswas foolishly infatuated with Deardree, idealized her,
humanized her, and couldn't conceive ofanything serious ever happening on this particular
(01:07):
underdre. Soared away from Terra atthe proper speed, mister Watkins signaled that
fuel was being consumed at the properrate, and Captain Somers cut the engines
at the proper moment, indicated bymister Radgick, the navigator. As soon
as Point Abel had been reached andthe engine stopped, Summers frowned and studied
his complex control board. He wasa thin and meticulous man, and he
(01:32):
operated his ship with mechanical perfection.He was well liked in the front offices
of Michelson's Space Lines, where oldMan Michelson pointed to Captain Summers reports as
models of neatness and efficiency. OnMars, he stayed at the Officers Club,
eschewing the stews and dives of Marsport. On Earth, he lived in
(01:53):
a little Vermont cottage and enjoyed thequiet companionship of two cats, a Japanese
houseboy and a wife. His instructionsread true, and yet he sensed something
was wrong. Summers knew every creekrattle and groan that Deirdre was capable of
making during blast off. He hadheard something different in space. Something different
(02:16):
had to be wrong, mister Ratchick, he said, turning to his navigator,
would you check the cargo. Ibelieve something may have shifted you,
bet, Ratchik said, cheerfully.He was an almost offensively handsome young man
with black wavy hair, blaze,blue eyes, and a cleft chin.
(02:37):
Despite his appearance, Ratchick was thoroughlyqualified for his position, But he was
only one of fifty thousand thoroughly qualifiedmen who lusted for a berth on one
of the fourteen spaceships in existence.Only Stephen Ratchik had had the foresight,
appearance, and fortitude to court andwed Helga old man Michelson's eldest daughter.
(02:59):
Ratcheck went aft to the cargo hold. Deardree was carrying transistors this time,
and microfilm, books and platinum filaments, salamis, and other items that could
not as yet be produced on Mars, but the bulk of her space was
taken by the immense force and computer. Ratgick checked the positioning lines on the
monster, examined the stays and turnbucklesthat held it in place, and returned
(03:23):
it to the cabin. While anorder boss, he reported to Captain Somers
with a smile that only an employer'sson in law can both manage and afford.
Mister Watkins, do you read anything? Watkins was at his own instrument
panel, Not a thing, sir. I'll vouch for every bit of equipment
(03:44):
in Deardree very well. How longbefore we reach Point Baker. Three minutes.
Chief Ratchick said, good. Thespaceship hung in the void, all
sensation of speed lost for a lackof a reference point. Beyond the portholes
was darkness, the true color ofthe universe, perforated by the brilliant lost
(04:05):
points of the stars. Captain Somersturned away from the disturbing reminder of his
extreme finitude and wondered if he couldland Deardree without shifting the computer. It
was by far the largest, heaviestand most delicate piece of equipment ever transported
in space. He worried about thatmachine. Its value ran into the billions
(04:28):
of dollars for Mars Colony had orderedthe best possible, a machine whose utility
would offset the immense transportation charge acrossspace. As a result, the first
in computer was perhaps the most complexand advanced machine ever built by man.
Ten seconds to point Baker, Ragicannounced very well. Summers readied himself at
(04:50):
the control board four three two one. Fire activated the engines. Acceleration pressed
the three men back into their couches, and more acceleration, and shockingly,
still more acceleration the fuel. Watkinsyelped, watching his indicators spinning the course.
(05:16):
Ratchet gasped, fighting for breath.Captain Somers cut the engine switch.
The engines continued firing, pressing themen deeper into their couches. The cabin
lights flickered, went out, cameon again, and still the acceleration mounted,
and Deardrey's engines howled in agony.Thrusting the ship forward, Summers raised
(05:38):
one leaden hand and inched it towardthe emergency cut off switch. With a
fantastic expenditure of energy, he reachedthe switch and pressed it. The engines
stopped with dramatic suddenness, while torturedmetal creaked and groaned. The lights flickered
rapidly, as though Deardree were blinkingin pain. They steadied, and then
(06:00):
there was silence. Watkins hurried tothe engine room. He returned morosely.
Of all the damned things, hemuttered, what was it? Captain Sommers
asked, main firing circuit? Itfused on us? He shook his head
metal fatigue. I'd say it musthave been flawed for years. When was
(06:23):
it last checked out? Well,it's a sealed unit, supposed to outlast
the ship, absolutely foolproof unless it'sflawed don't blame it on me. Those
circuits are supposed to be x rayed, he treated, fluoroscope. You just
can't trust machinery. At last,Watkins believed that engineering axiom. How are
(06:46):
we on fuel? Captain Sommers asked, Not enough left to push a kiddy
car down main street? Watkins said, gloomily, if I could get my
hands on that factory inspector. CaptainSummers turned to Ratchick, who was seated
at the navigator's desk, conched overhis charts. How does this affect our
course? Ratchick finished the computation hewas working on, a nod thoughtfully at
(07:12):
his pencil. It kills us.We're going to cross the orbit of Mars
before Mars gets there? How long? Before too long? Captain? We're
flying out of the Solar system likea proverbial bat out of hell. Ratchick
smiled, a courageous, devil maycare smile, which Watkins found singularly inappropriate.
(07:32):
Damn it, man, he roared, don't just leave it there.
We've got a little feel left.We can turn her, can't we.
You are a navigator, aren't youI am? Ragick said icily. And
if I computed my course the wayyou maintain your engines, we'd be plowing
through Australia, now, why youlittle company toady. At least I got
(07:56):
my job legitimately, not by marrying. That's enough off, Captain Summers cut
in. Watkins, his face amodeled red, his mustache bristling, looked
like a walrus about to charge,and Ratchick, eyes glittering, was waiting
hopefully no more of this, Summerssaid, I give the orders here,
(08:18):
then give some Watkins snapped, tellhim to plot a return curve. This
is life for death, all themore reason for remaining cool, mister Ratchick.
Can you plot such a course?First thing? I tried? Ratchick
said, not a chance. Though, on the fuel we have left,
we can turn a degree or two, but it won't help. Watkins said,
(08:41):
of course, it will curve backinto the Solar System. Sure,
but the best curve we can makewill take a few thousand years for us
to complete, perhaps a landfall onsome other planet neptune Uranus. Ratchick shook
his head. Even if an outerplanet were in the right place at the
right time, we'd need fuel,a lot of fuel to get into a
(09:05):
breaking orbit. And if we could, who'd come get us? No ship
has gone past Mars yet. Atleast we'd have a chance, Watkins said.
Maybe. Ragick agreed indifferently, butwe can't swing it. I'm afraid
you'll have to kiss the Solar system. Goodbye. Captain Somers wiped his forehead
(09:28):
and tried to think of a plan. He found it difficult to concentrate.
There was too great a discrepancy betweenhis knowledge of the situation and its appearance.
He knew intellectually that his ship wastraveling out of the Solar System at
a tremendous rate of speed, butin appearance they were stationary hung in the
Abyss, three men trapped in asmall hot room, breathing the smell of
(09:50):
hot metal and perspiration. What shallwe do, Captain Watkins asked. Summers
frowned at the engineer. Did theman expect him to pull a solution out
of the air? How was heeven supposed to concentrate on the problem.
He had to slow the ship,turn it, but his senses told him
that the ship was not moving.How then, could speed constitute a problem?
(10:16):
He couldn't help but feel that thereal problem was to get away from
these high strung, squabbling men.To escape from this hot, smelly little
room. Captain, you must havesome idea. Somers tried to shake his
feeling of unreality. The problem,the real problem, he told himself,
was how to stop the ship.He looked around the fixed cabin and out
(10:39):
of the porthole at the unmoving stars. We are moving very rapidly, he
thought. Unconvinced, Ratchick said,disgustedly, our noble captain can't face the
situation. Of course I can,Somers objected, feeling very light headed and
(11:00):
unreal. I can pilot any courseyou lay down. That's my only real
responsibility plot us, of course toMars. Sure, Radchick said, laughing,
I can. I will engineer.I'm going to need plenty of fuel
for this course, about ten tons. See that I get it right,
you are, said Watkinson, Captain, I'd like to put in a requisition
(11:22):
for ten tons of fuel. Requisitiongranted, Somers said, all right,
gentlemen, responsibility is inevitably circular.Let's get a grip on ourselves, mister
Radgick, suppose you radio Mars.When contact had been established, Somers took
the microphone and stated their situation.The company official at the other end seemed
(11:43):
to have trouble grasping it. Butcan't you turn the ship, he asked,
bewilderedly, any kind of orbit.No, I've just explained that.
Then what do you propose to do, Captain, That's exactly what I'm asking
you. There was a babble ofvoices from the loudspeaker, punctuated by bursts
(12:07):
of static. The lights flickered andreception began to fade. Ratchick, working
frantically, managed to re establish thecontact Captain. The official on Mars said,
we can't think of a thing.If you could swing into any sort
of orbit, I can't under thecircumstances. You have the right to try
(12:28):
anything at all, anything, CaptainSummer's groaned. Listen, I can think
of just one thing. We couldbail out in space suits as near Mars
as possible, link ourselves together,take the portable transmitter. It wouldn't give
much of a signal, but you'dknow our approximate position. Everything would have
to be figured pretty closely. Thosesuits just carry twelve hours here, but
(12:52):
it's a chance. There was aconfusion of voices from the other end.
Then the official said, I'm sorry, captain, what I'm telling you it's
our one chance. Captain. Theonly ship on Mars now is the Diana.
Her engines are being overhauled. Howlong before she can be space born?
(13:16):
Three weeks at least, and aship from Earth would take too long,
Captain, I wish we could thinkof something about the only thing we
can suggest. The reception suddenly failed. Ratchick cursed frustratedly as he worked over
the radio. Watkins gnawed at hismustache. Summers glanced out of a porthole
and looked hurriedly away for the stars. Their destination were impossibly distant. They
(13:43):
heard static again, faintly. NowI can't get much more, Ratchik said,
this damned reception. What could theyhave been suggesting? Whatever it was,
said Watkins. They didn't think itwould work. What the hell does
that matter, Ratchick asked, annoyed. It had give us something to do.
(14:05):
They heard the official's voice, awhisper across space. Can you hear
suggest? At full amplification? Thevoice faded, then returned. Can only
suggest most unlikely? But try,calculator, try The voice was gone,
(14:26):
and then even the static was gone. That does it, Ratchik said,
the calculator Did he mean the Farrisoncomputer in our hold, I see what
he meant, said Captain Sommers.The Farison is a very advanced job.
No one knows the limits of itspotential. He suggests we present our problem
to it. That's ridiculous, Watkinssnorted. This problem has no solution.
(14:54):
It doesn't seem to Summers agreed.But the big computers have solved other apparently
impossible problems. We can't lose anythingby trying, no, said Ratchick.
As long as we don't pin anyhopes on it, that's right. We
don't dare hope, mister Watkins.I believe this is your department. Oh
(15:16):
what's the use, Watkins asked,You say, don't hope, but both
of you are hoping anyhow. Youthink the big electronic god is going to
save your lives. Well, it'snot. We have to try, Somers
told him. We don't. Iwouldn't give it the satisfaction of turning us
down. They stared at him invacant astonishment. Now you're implying that machines
(15:41):
think, said Ratgick. Of courseI am, Watkins said, because they
do. No, I'm not outof my head. Any engineer will tell
you that a complex machine has apersonality. All its own. Do you
know what that personality is like?Cold, withdrawn, uncaring, unfeeling.
A machine's only purpose is to frustratedesire and produce two problems for every one
(16:04):
it solves. And do you knowwhy a machine feels this way? You're
hysterical, Summers told him, Iam not. A machine feels this way
because it knows it is an unnaturalcreation in nature's domain. Therefore it wishes
to reach entropy and cease a mechanicaldeath wish. I've never heard such gibberish
(16:27):
in my life, Summers said,are you going to hook up that computer?
Of course, I'm human. Ikeep trying. I just wanted you
to understand fully that there is nohope. He went to the cargo hauld.
After he had gone, Ratchick grinnedand shook his head. We'd better
watch him. He'll be all right, Summers said, maybe, maybe not.
(16:53):
Ratchick pursed his lips thoughtfully. He'sblaming the situation on a machine personality
now trying to absolve himself of guilt, and it is his fault that we're
in this spot. An engineer isresponsible for all equipment. I don't believe
you can put the blame on him. So dogmatically, Summers replied, sure
(17:15):
I can. Ragick said, Ipersonally don't care, though this is as
good a way to die as anyother, and better than most kept in
Summer's perspiration from his face. Again, the notion came to him that the
problem, the real problem, wasto find a way out of this hot,
smelly, motionless little box. Ragicksaid, death in space is an
(17:40):
appealing idea in certain ways. Imaginean entire spaceship for your tomb, and
you have a variety of ways ofactually dying. Thirst and starvation I rule
out as unimaginative, but there arepossibilities in heat, cold, implosion,
explosion. This is pretty morbid,Summers said, I'm a pretty morbid fellow.
(18:03):
Ratchick said carelessly, But at leastI'm not blaming inanimate objects the way
Watkins is, or permitting myself theluxury of shock like you. He studied
Summer's face. This is your firstreal emergency, isn't it, Captain?
I suppose so, Summers answered,vaguely, And you're responding to it like
(18:26):
a stunned ox. Ratchick said,wake up, captain. If you can't
live with joy, at least tryto extract some pleasure from your dying.
Shut up, Summers said, withno heat. Why don't you read a
book or something. I've read allthe books on board. I have nothing
to distract me except an analysis ofyour character. Watkins returned to the cabin.
(18:51):
Well, I've activated your big electronicgod. Would anyone care to make
up burnt offering in front of it? Have you given it the problem?
Not yet? I decided to conferwith the High Priest. What shall I
request of the demons? Sir,give it all the data you can,
Summers said, fuel, oxygen,water, food, that sort of thing.
(19:14):
Then tell it we want to returnto Earth alive. He added,
it'll love that, Watkins said,It'll get such pleasure out of rejecting our
problem as unsolvable or better yet insufficientdata. In that way, it can
hint that a solution is possible,but just outside our reach. It can
keep us hoping. Summers and Ratchickfollowed him into the cargo hold. The
(19:38):
computer activated, now hummed softly.Lights flashed swiftly over its panels, blue
and white and red. Watkins punchedbuttons and turned dials for fifteen minutes,
then moved back. What's for thered light on tub. He said,
that means the problem is rejected.Don't say it, Ratchick warned. Quickly,
(20:00):
Watkins laughed, superstitious, little fellow, aren't you but not incompetent?
Ratchick said, smiling, can't youtwo quitted? Summers demanded, and both
men turned startledly to face him.Behold, Ratchick said, the sleeper has
awakened after a fashion, said Watkins, snickering. Summers suddenly felt that if
(20:26):
death or rescue did not come quickly, they would kill each other or drive
each other crazy. Look, Ratchicksaid. A light on the computer's panel
was flashing green. Must be amistake, said Watkins. Green means the
problem is solvable within the conditions setdown. Solvable, Ratchick said, But
(20:48):
it's impossible, Watkins argued, it'sfooling us, leading us on. Don't
be superstitious, Ratchick mocked, howsoon do we get the solution? It's
coming now. Watkins pointed to apaper tape inching out of a slot in
the machine's face. But there mustbe something wrong. They watched as millimeter
(21:11):
by millimeter, the tape crept down. The computer hummed, its lights flashing
green. Then the hums stopped.The green lights blazed once more and faded.
What happened? Ratchick wanted to knowit's finished? Watkins said, pick
it up, read it. Youread it, you won't get me to
(21:33):
play its game. Ratchick laughed nervouslyand rubbed his hands together, but didn't
move. Both men turned to Somers. Captain, it's your responsibility. Go
ahead. Captain Somers looked with loathingat his engineer and navigator. His responsibility,
(21:55):
everything was his responsibility. Would theynever leave him alone? He went
up to the machine, pulled thetape free read it with slow deliberation.
What does it say, Sir?Rajick asked, is it possible? Watkins
urged, Oh yes, Smers saidit's possible. He laughed and looked around
(22:19):
the hot, smelly, low ceilingedlittle room with its locked doors and windows.
What is it? Ragick shouted.Summers said, you figured a few
thousand years to return to the solarsystem. Ragic, Well, the computer
agrees with you, twenty three hundredyears to be precise. Therefore, it
(22:40):
has given us a suitable longevity serumtwenty three hundred years. Ragick mumbled,
I suppose we hibernate or something ofthe sort. Not at all, Summers
said calmly. As a matter offact, this serum does away quite nicely
with the need for sleep. Westay awake and watch each other. The
(23:02):
three men looked at one another andat the sickeningly familiar room, smelling of
metal and perspiration, its sealed doorsand windows that stared at an unchanging spectacle
of stars. Watkins said, yes, that's the sort of thing it would
do. And of death Wish byRobert Sheckley
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