Derelict

by Alan Edward Nourse

say--"

  "All right, all right," the captain breathed impatiently. "You can writeit up and hand it to me. It isn't really important where they came from,or whether they breathe oxygen or fluorine." He turned his eyes to theengineer, and lit a cigar with trembling fingers. "The important thingis _how_ they got here. The drive, Brownie. You went over the enginescarefully? What did you find?"

  Brownie twitched uneasily, and looked at the floor. "Oh, yes, I examinedthem carefully. Wasn't too hard. I examined every piece of drivemachinery on the ship, from stem to stern."

  Sabo nodded, slowly, watching the little man with a carefully blankface. "That's right. You gave it a good going over."

  Brownie licked his lips. "It's a derelict, like Johnny told you. Theywere dead. All of them. Probably had been dead for a long time. Icouldn't tell, of course. Probably nobody could tell. But they must havebeen dead for centuries--"

  The captain's eyes blinked as the implication sank in. "Wait a minute,"he said. "What do you mean, _centuries_?"

  Brownie stared at his shoes. "The atomic piles were almost dead," hemuttered in an apologetic whine. "The ship wasn't going any place,captain. It was just wandering. Maybe it's wandered for thousands ofyears." He took a deep breath, and his eyes met the captain's for abrief agonized moment. "They don't have Interstellar, sir. Just plain,simple, slow atomics. Nothing different. They've been traveling forcenturies, and it would have taken them just as long to get back."

  The captain's voice was thin, choked. "Are you trying to tell me thattheir drive is no different from our own? That a ship has actuallywandered into Interstellar space _without a space drive_?"

  Brownie spread his hands helplessly. "Something must have gone wrong.They must have started off for another planet in their own system, andsomething went wrong. They broke into space, and they all died. And theship just went on moving. They never intended an Interstellar hop. Theycouldn't have. They didn't have the drive for it."

  The captain sat back numbly, his face pasty gray. The light had faded inhis eyes now; he sat as though he'd been struck. "You--you couldn't bewrong? You couldn't have missed anything?"

  Brownie's eyes shifted unhappily, and his voice was very faint. "No,sir."

  The captain stared at them for a long moment, like a stricken child.Slowly he picked up one of the charts, his mouth working. Then, with abitter roar, he threw it in Sabo's face. "Get out of here! Take thisgarbage and get out! And get the men to their stations. We're here towatch Saturn, and by god, we'll watch Saturn!" He turned away, a handover his eyes, and they heard his choking breath as they left thecabin.

  Slowly, Brownie walked out into the corridor, started down toward hiscabin, with Sabo silent at his heels. He looked up once at the mate'sheavy face, a look of pleading in his dark brown eyes, and then openedthe door to his quarters. Like a cat, Sabo was in the room before him,dragging him in, slamming the door. He caught the little man by the neckwith one savage hand, and shoved him unceremoniously against the door,his voice a vicious whisper. "_All right, talk! Let's have it now!_"

  Brownie choked, his eyes bulging, his face turning gray in the dim lightof the cabin. "Johnny! Let me down! What's the matter? You're chokingme, Johnny--"

  The mate's eyes were red, with heavy lines of disgust and bitternessrunning from his eyes and the corners of his mouth. "You stinking littleliar! _Talk_, damn it! You're not messing with the captain now, you'remessing with _me_, and I'll have the truth if I have to cave in yourskull--"

  "I told you the truth! I don't know what you mean--"

  Sabo's palm smashed into his face, jerking his head about like an appleon a string. "That's the wrong answer," he grated. "I warn you, don'tlie! The captain is an ambitious ass, he couldn't think his way througha multiplication table. He's a little child. But I'm not quite so dull."He threw the little man down in a heap, his eyes blazing. "You sillyfool, your story is so full of holes you could drive a tank through it.They just up and died, did they? I'm supposed to believe that? Smashedup against the panels the way they were? Only one thing could crush themlike that. Any fool could see it. Acceleration. And I don't mean atomicacceleration. Something else." He glared down at the man quivering onthe floor. "They had Interstellar drive, didn't they, Brownie?"

  Brownie nodded his head, weakly, almost sobbing, trying to pull himselferect. "Don't tell the captain," he sobbed. "Oh, Johnny, for god's sake,listen to me, don't let him know I lied. I was going to tell you anyway,Johnny, really I was. I've got a plan, a good plan, can't you see it?"The gleam of excitement came back into the sharp little eyes. "They hadit, all right. Their trip probably took just a few months. They had adrive I've never seen before, non-atomic. I couldn't tell the principle,with the look I had, but I think I could work it." He sat up, his wholebody trembling. "Don't give me away, Johnny, listen a minute--"

  Sabo sat back against the bunk, staring at the little man. "You're outof your mind," he said softly. "You don't know what you're doing. Whatare you going to do when His Nibs goes over for a look himself? He'sstupid, but not that stupid."

  Brownie's voice choked, his words tumbling over each other in hiseagerness. "He won't get a chance to see it, Johnny. He's got to takeour word until he sees it, and we can stall him--"

  Sabo blinked. "A day or so--maybe. But what then? Oh, how could you beso stupid? He's on the skids, he's out of favor and fighting for hislife. That drive is the break that could put him on top. Can't you seehe's selfish? He has to be, in this world, to get anything. Anything oranyone who blocks him, he'll destroy, if he can. Can't you see that?When he spots this, your life won't be worth spitting at."

  Brownie was trembling as he sat down opposite the big man. His voice washarsh in the little cubicle, heavy with pain and hopelessness. "That'sright," he said. "My life isn't worth a nickle. Neither is yours.Neither is anybody's, here or back home. Nobody's life is worth anickle. Something's happened to us in the past hundred years,Johnny--something horrible. I've seen it creeping and growing up aroundus all my life. People don't matter any more, it's the Government, whatthe Government thinks that matters. It's a web, a cancer that grows inits own pattern, until it goes so far it can't be stopped. Men likeLoomis could see the pattern, and adapt to it, throw away all theworthwhile things, the love and beauty and peace that we once had in ourlives. Those men can get somewhere, they can turn this life into aclimbing game, waiting their chance to get a little farther toward thetop, a little closer to some semblance of security--"

  "Everybody adapts to it," Sabo snapped. "They have to. You don't see memoving for anyone else, do you? I'm for _me_, and believe me I know it.I don't give a hang for you, or Loomis, or anyone else alive--just me. Iwant to stay alive, that's all. You're a dreamer, Brownie. But until youpull something like this, you can learn to stop dreaming if you wantto--"

  "No, no, you're wrong--oh, you're horribly wrong, Johnny. Some of us_can't_ adapt, we haven't got what it takes, or else we have somethingelse in us that won't let us go along. And right there we're beat beforewe start. There's no place for us now, and there never will be." Helooked up at the mate's impassive face. "We're in a life where we don'tbelong, impounded into a senseless, never-ending series of fights andskirmishes and long, lonely waits, feeding this insane urge of theGovernment to expand, out to the planets, to the stars, farther andfarther, bigger and bigger. We've got to go, seeking newer and greaterworlds to conquer, with nothing to conquer them with, and nothing toconquer them for. There's life somewhere else in our solar system, so itmust be sought out and conquered, no matter what or where it is. We livein a world of iron and fear, and there was no place for me, and otherslike me, _until this ship came_--"

  Sabo looked at him strangely. "So I was right. I read it on your facewhen we were searching the ship. I knew what you were thinking...." Hisface darkened angrily. "You couldn't get away with it, Brownie. Wherecould you go, what could you expect to find? You're talking death,Brownie. Nothing else--"

  "No, no. Listen, Johnny." Brownie leaned closer, his eyes bright
andintent on the man's heavy face. "The captain has to take our word forit, until he sees the ship. Even then he couldn't tell for sure--I'mthe only drive engineer on the Station. We have the charts, we couldwork with them, try to find out where the ship came from;