Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
THE STUTTERER
BY R. R. MERLISS
_A man can be killed by a toy gun--he can die of fright, for heart attacks can kill. What, then, is the deadly thing that must be sealed away, forever locked in buried concrete--a thing or an idea?_
Illustrated by Riley
Out of the twenty only one managed to escape the planet. And he did itvery simply, merely by walking up to the crowded ticket window at one ofthe rocket ports and buying passage to Earth. His Army identificationpapers passed the harassed inspection of the agent, and he gratefullyand silently pocketed the small plastic stub that was handed him inexchange for his money.
He picked his way with infinite care through the hordes of ex-soldiersclamoring for passage back to the multitudinous planets from which theyhad come. Then he slowly climbed the heavy ramp into the waiting rocket.
He saw with relief that the seats were strongly constructed, built tosurvive the pressure of many gravities and he chose one as far removedas possible from the other passengers.
He was still very apprehensive, and, as he waited for the rocket to takeoff, he tried hard to remember the principles of the pulse drive thatpowered the ship, and whether his additional weight would upset itsefficiency enough to awaken suspicion.
The seats filled quickly with excited hurrying passengers. Soon he heardthe great door clang shut, and saw the red light flicker on, warning ofthe take-off. He felt a slow surge of pressure as the ship arose fromthe ground, and his chair creaked ominously with the extra weight. Hebecame fearful that it might collapse, and he strained forward trying toshift some of the pressure through his feet to the floor. He sat thatway, tense and immobile, for what seemed a long time until abruptly thestrain was relieved and he heard the rising and falling whine of therockets that told him the ship was in pulse drive, flickering back andforth across the speed of light.
He realized that the pilots had not discovered his extra weight, andthat the initial hazards were over. The important thing was to look likea passenger, a returning soldier like the others, so that no one wouldnotice him and remember his presence.
His fellow travelers were by this time chatting with one another, someplaying cards, and others watching the teledepth screens. These were theadventurers who had flocked from all corners of the galaxy to fight inthe first national war in centuries. They were the uncivilized few whohad read about battle and armed struggle in their history books andfound the old stories exciting.
They paid no attention to their silent companion who sat quietly lookingthrough the quartz windows at the diamond-bright stars, tacked againstthe blackness of infinity.
The fugitive scarcely moved the entire time of the passage. Finally whenEarth hung out in the sky like a blue balloon, the ship cut itspulsations and swung around for a tail landing.
The atmosphere screamed through the fins of the rocket, and thecontinents and the countries, and then the rivers and the mountains tookshape. The big ship settled down as gently as a snowflake, shuddered afew times and was quiet.
* * * * *
The passengers hurriedly gathered up their scattered belongings andpushed toward the exit in a great rush to be out and back on Earth.
The fugitive was the last to leave. He stayed well away from the others,being fearful that, if he should touch or brush up against someone, hisidentity might be recognized.
When he saw the ramp running from the ship to the ground, he wasdismayed. It seemed a flimsy structure, supported only by tubular steel.Five people were walking down it, and he made a mental calculation oftheir weight--about eight hundred pounds he thought. He weighed fivetimes that. The ramp was obviously never built to support such a load.
He hesitated, and then he realized that he had caught the eye of thestewardess waiting on the ground. A little panicky, he stepped out withone foot and he was horrified to feel the steel buckle. He drew backhastily and threw a quick glance at the stewardess. Fortunately at themoment she was looking down one field and waving at someone.
The ramp floor was supported by steel tubes at its edges and in itsexact center. He tentatively put one foot in the middle over the supportand gradually shifted his weight to it. The metal complained creakily,but held, and he slowly trod the exact center line to Earth. Thestewardess' back was turned toward him as he walked off across the fieldtoward the customhouse.
He found it comforting to have under his feet what felt like at leastone yard of cement. He could step briskly and not be fearful ofbetraying himself.
There was one further danger: the customs inspector.
He took his place at the end of the line and waited patiently until itled him up to a desk at which a uniformed man sat, busily checking andstamping declarations and traveling papers. The official, however, didnot even look up when he handed him his passport and identification.
"Human. You don't have to go through immigration," the agent said. "Doyou have anything to declare?"
"N-no," the traveler said. "I d-didn't bring anything in."
"Sign the affidavit," the agent said and pushed a sheet of paper towardhim.
The traveler picked up a pen from the desk and signed "Jon Hall" in aclear, perfect script.
The agent gave it a passing glance and tossed it into a wire basket.
Then he pushed his uniform cap back exposing a bald head. "You're mylast customer for a while, until the rocket from Sirius comes in. GuessI might as well relax for a minute." He reached into a drawer of thedesk and pulled out a package of cigarettes, of which he lit one.
"You been in the war, too?" he asked.
Hall nodded. He did not want to talk any more than he had to.
The agent studied his face.
"That's funny," he said after a minute. "I never would have picked youfor one of these so-called adventurers. You're too quiet and peacefullooking. I would have put you down as a doctor or maybe a writer."
"N-no," Hall said. "I w-was in the war."
"Well, that shows you can't tell by looking at a fellow," the agent saidphilosophically. He handed Hall his papers. "There you are. The leftdoor leads out to the copter field. Good luck on Earth!"
Hall pocketed the stamped documents. "Thanks," he said. "I'm glad to behere."
He walked down the wide station room to a far exit and pushed the dooropen. A few steps farther and he was standing on a cement path dug intoa hillside.
* * * * *
Across the valley, bright in the noon sun lay the pine covered slopes ofthe Argus mountains, and at his feet the green Mojave flowering withorchards stretched far to the north and south. Between the trees, in thecenter of the valley, the Sacramento River rolled southward in aman-made bed of concrete and steel giving water and life to what had acentury before been dry dead earth.
There was a small outcropping of limestone near the cement walk, and hestepped over to it and sat down. He would have been happy to rest andenjoy for a few moments his escape and his triumph, but he had to letthe others know so that they might have hope.
He closed his eyes and groped across the stars toward Grismet. Almostimmediately he felt an impatient tug at his mind, strong because therewere many clamoring at once to be heard. He counted them. There wereseventeen. So one more had been captured since he had left Grismet.
"Be quiet," the told them. "I'll let you see, after a while. First Ihave to reach the two of us that are still free."
Obediently, the seventeen were still, and he groped some more and foundanother of his kind deep in an ice cave in the polar regions of Grismet.
"How goes it?" he asked.
The figure on Grismet lay stret
ched out at full length on the blue ice,his eyes closed. He answered without moving: "They discovered myradiation about an hour ago. Pretty soon, they'll start blasting throughthe ice."
The one on Earth felt the chill despair of his comrade and let go. Hegroped about again until he found the last one, the only other one left.He was squatting in the cellar of a warehouse in the main city ofGrismet.
"Have they picked up your trail yet?" he asked.
"No," answered the one in the cellar. "They won't for a while. I'vescattered depots of radiation all through the town. They'll be some timetracking them all down, before they can get to me."
In a flash of his mind, Hall revealed his escape and the one on Grismetnodded and said: "Be careful. Be very careful. You are our only hope."
Hall returned then to the seventeen, and he said with his thoughts: "Allright, now you can look." Immobile in their
The Stutterer Page 1