Not in Solitude [Revised Edition]

by Kenneth F. Gantz

  He was documented. In any event he was documented. He crawled on his bunk, thinking. If certainly not Pembroke, then who? Which was what he had said all the time. Only without any proof to make them listen. Finally he went to sleep.

  27

  THE BUZZER wasp-buzzed. Dane climbed up on one elbow and looked at the 0747 hours on his watch.

  “No breakfast,” he yelled, remembering very well the confinement practice of waking you up to feed you whether you wanted to eat or not. “I don’t want any breakfast”.

  He let himself go backward on the pillow. At least he could sleep all he wanted to.

  The buzzer came on again and stayed on. Muttering about fools who insisted on ordering life to their own time, he got out of bed and slid the door panel back from its latch.

  Major Noel stood outside. “Greetings,” he said cheerfully. “Just getting up?”

  Dane said, “No. I just got back from a swim off the pier.”

  Noel grinned. “How about getting on some clothes? There’s things to do.”

  Dane said, “I had the impression from your boss man that I was supposed to stay put until he changed his mind. You got new news about that?” He stood back and let Noel inside.

  “It’s changed. We’re getting messages.”

  “This early!” How did it fit in?

  Noel pre-empted the armchair. “Yeah. They don’t make any sense. The Old Man wants you to take them over.”

  Dane followed his eyes to the envelope he had sealed the night before. He got out fresh undershorts and pulled on his coveralls.

  “I got to thank you for pulling me in last night,” Noel began again. “I hear you were kind of terrific.”

  Dane fumbled under the bunk for his gravity footgear. “How you feeling this morning?”

  “Good as ever except for my shoulder muscles.” Noel flexed his arms indolently. “That piggy-back ride they say you gave me must have stretched them a real stretch.”

  “If I’d had enough sense to shuck your weights, it might have helped.”

  “Hot damn about it! It took plenty of guts to deal the hand at all. Let alone remember to turn trumps.”

  Dane stood up and stamped his feet, clumsy with the weighted boots. “Forget it.”

  Noel twitched off his familiar shrug. “Anyway, I owe you one. A big one. Nothing changes that.”

  “How about time out to brush the teeth? I can’t go far if I escape.”

  Lieutenant Yudin had photo record prints scattered over the chart table. “These are the best.” He shuffled them a little. “Still scrambled, it looks like. The table’s been dead for a long time.”

  It wasn’t scrambling, Dane decided at once. It was more like a distortion of the code symbols, as if their shapes had been imperfectly transmitted. Their characteristics were bent and portions of them were suppressed.

  “No can do?” Noel asked.

  “I don’t see anything yet,” Dane admitted. “Maybe their transmitter is out of tune.”

  Noel said, “One thing is for sure. Don’t you send out any messages yourself. The colonel gave strict orders about that.” He stepped over the hatch. “Things are shaping up for take-off,” he went on. “We’re scheduled to go off at 1100 hours, but there’s a chance we might be able to move it up to 1030.”

  “Major,” Yudin spoke up, “what do you think?”

  “What do I think about what?” Noel asked.

  Yudin fumbled. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “About the take-off,” he blurted. “Does it look to you like we’ll make it? Get off the ground, I mean.”

  “It won’t be a take-off if we don’t,” Noel said coldly. “I’ve got work to do. Stand by your equipment.” He let himself down out of sight.

  Yudin wiped his glasses with care. Dane felt the man’s embarrassed fury. “How’s things look outside?” he asked him conversationally.

  Yudin put on the glasses. He felt around in a pocket and pulled out his curved pipe and tobacco pouch. Dane had gone to the ports before he answered. “They’re all around us. The same as they were last night, as well as I can see.” He made an effort to speak lightly. “How does it feel to be a hero?”

  Dane laughed briefly. “I don’t think running like hell makes a hero.” He was going to have to kick this sort of thing around all day.

  “Go ahead. Be modest. Isn’t that the way you newspaper fellows always write it up? Modest hero bashfully denies he did anything but his duty?”

  Dane swung around and looked at him.

  Yudin shook his head. “Forget I said it, will you? That guy gets me sore. You got plenty of credit coming for what you did.”

  “Skip it,” Dane said. “We’re all on edge. Bound to be. Everybody in this teakettle is on edge. Why wouldn’t they be?”

  The Far Venture sat within the tip of a broad tongue of lichens at least three hundred yards wide and pushed a good hundred yards past the spacecraft to a round terminus on the western side. The vegetation didn’t look fresh-grown. It was brown-green and moribund, laced with streaks of fibrous gray, like plants that awaited a killing frost. Looking directly down on it, or at least as directly down as the rounded ball of the Far Venture would permit, Dane could see a suggestion of red, but the sweep of bare sand, friendly in contrast, was now far removed from the spacecraft.

  Dane fiddled with the record prints, dealing them out one by one. The early hour of the reception was a puzzle in itself. No previous messages had come in earlier than 1000 hours. The early transmittal didn’t jibe at all with his theory. Unless, he thought suddenly, it came from far over the horizon! That would fit. Perfectly! It could also explain the distortion. Now he couldn’t doubt it! He had to be right!

  He got on the telephone and called the command post for Major Noel. Major Noel was on 2-low, the main drive deck. The voice that answered there told him the major couldn’t be interrupted. It promised that the major would call him back as soon as he could. No, it couldn’t call him now, he was inside the generator block with Major Beloit.

  His eagerness cooling a little, he thought of calling Colonel Cragg. Might as well forget that. Noel was the better bet for this story. At first, at least. Especially with little more than two hours’ time left before the take-off trial.

  He went over to the ports. It was already a bright day. Very little high-altitude haze. Yellow sunlight poured over the lichens, warming them. The ice crystals would have already melted in their intercellular spaces, photosynthesis would soon be in process and their metabolism flourishing—in short, they would be living and growing. Seeping acid.

  “Lieutenant,” he said, “if you ordered them, do you suppose they would bring us up some sandwiches and milk?”

  Yudin looked up from the papers he incessantly scribbled on watch. “Yeah. Why not? Hungry?” He picked up the phone and called the mess. After he had hung up, he said, “Good idea. I could stand one myself.”

  “You must be writing a book,” Dane said on impulse. Yudin was an uncommunicative sort, until you got him started. Then he could talk you out of all patience. So you didn’t often start him.

  Yudin looked startled. “Journal,” he said. “Two sections. One technical; one personal. It passes the time and I might be glad to have it someday.” He gathered up the penciled sheets and carefully folded them away in his pocket, as if he were afraid Dane might ask to read a sample.

  After they had eaten their sandwiches, there didn’t seem much use in more talk. Until the phone rang.

  Yudin picked it up. He listened for a minute and said, “Jesus.” He listened again and said, “Yessir.” He let the phone drop on its cord. “The lichens are beginning to cover the spacecraft. We’re going to take off at 1000. He wants to speak to you.”

  Dane glanced at the clock. It stood at 0937. “Noel?” He grabbed up the instrument.

  Noel came on briskly, with a tone of confident command. “If you like, you are welcome at the command post during take-off. Journalist’s press pass, so to speak.”
r />   “Lichens on the outside of the hull?” Dane demanded.

  “About a third of the way up to the midline. Colonel Cragg just now advanced the take-off to 1000 on account of them. Check in at the command post about five minutes before if you are coming down.”

  “I’ve got something important——”

  “Can’t it keep until we get in the air? I’m crowded for time, man.”

  It might as well keep, Dane admitted. Certainly no time for it now. “How about sending a message?” he tried.

  Noel didn’t hesitate. “No. Absolutely not.” He rang off.

  Dane quickly dialed the control operator. “I’ve got to speak to Colonel Cragg. Urgent.”

  The man was doubtful. After a moment he came back on and wanted to know what was the nature of the urgency.

  “I’ll tell the colonel,” Dane insisted.

  The operator was sorry, but the colonel could not be interrupted unless they knew what the message concerned.

  “Tell them to tell him John Dane is certain he has discovered the Martians and wants to send a message before we leave. For confirmation. We’ve got to make as sure as we can before we leave.”

  “What’s that? What did you say?” the operator demanded.

  “I’ve got it,” another voice said. “This is McDonald. You mean what you said or you gagging to get through to the colonel?”

  Dane referred him to an apt place to go.

  “From here?” McDonald laughed, not too brightly. “Hold on.”

  In a minute he was back. “The colonel just chewed me out for even giving him your message. He says no transmitting. Absolutely none. Now I’ve got to speak to Yudin.”

  “Okay, it’ll have to wait.” Dane handed the phone to Yudin, who listened a minute and hung up.

  “The idea is that you’re not to send any messages to Martians or anybody else,” Yudin told him. “I’m not supposed to let you even get close to the switch.” He frowned. “Say, whatever goes on with you, I don’t know. You’ve been a good guy to me and damn nice. I hope you don’t try anything. That is, if you’ve got anything in mind. I just had orders to shoot you if you do. I don’t want to have to do that. Not to you.”

  Dane whistled. “That guy’s really got Tong Asia on the brain!”

  “Look!” Yudin exclaimed. He pointed dramatically at the photo plane table.

  The message stood forth bold and clear, the symbols as steady as vibrating light could make them.

  “One arrives at spacecraft,” Dane read aloud. While they watched, it faded and the familiar symbols came on for One is good. These faded immediately. The next that came read, Death to men. Abruptly it disappeared, to be followed by the first symbols, One arrives at spacecraft.

  Yudin rushed to the port. “Damned if I see anything!”

  “Don’t be too sure,” Dane said. Though he was sure himself that he knew, he went to the glassite panels. Outside was nothing to be seen but the lichens and beyond them the red sand.

  Yudin was checking his revolver.

  “I don’t think that will do you any good,” Dane told him.

  Yudin looked him in the eye. “It’ll take more than words, whoever sent it,” he said with a dignity not at all absurd. Dane thought with surprise that the man had become confident and sure of himself. “If it’s Tong Asia, it’s a bluff,” Yudin went on. “If it’s Martians, they’re up against the first team. Whatever they are, they’re going to get a going over they’ll not forget in a hurry.”

  He gestured at the far ports. “You, my friend, will stand over there, back to me. You will keep your hands on the guard rail. You can look out——”

  “What in hell’s eating on you?” Dane demanded.

  “Do what I’m telling you,” Yudin said. “I’m sorry but I can’t take any chances. Get over there with your back to me and don’t let go of the rail. If you’re clean, it won’t do any harm. You can watch the take-off just the same.” A burr came into his voice. “I mean it. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a good guy, but you’re under suspicion. If you turn around, I’ll have to fire. If you’re clean, just stand there and you won’t get hurt. It won’t do any harm, and I’ll apologize later.”

  Dane continued to stare.

  “I mean it, Dane,” Yudin said. He flourished the pistol purposely. “Turn around now and you can complain all you want to later. Take it to Colonel Cragg, and I’ll apologize all you want. Right now, turn around! Like I just told you.”

  Dane saw the little beads of sweat under his temples. He said, “Okay.” He went to the east port and took hold of the handrail below it, as if the game were cops and robbers. Behind him, he heard Yudin call down the message.

  The phone clicked into its hook. “They say take-off is under way,” Yudin said.

  “I’ll be sorry about this,” he went on, “but I’d be a lot sorrier if I didn’t do it. Right or wrong, I haven’t got much choice. You agree with that?”

  Dane said, “I suppose so. From your point of view.”

  “You see,” Yudin said, “I’ve always admired you in a way. You’ve got a lot on the ball and you’ve made a name for yourself in your business. I always liked to read your stuff. It’s not half baked like most of the newspaper stuff when it comes to any kind of technology. You always write like you really know something, instead of picking up a few facts and some of the words in a couple of quick interviews.”

  Dane laughed. “You’re the first admirer I’ve ever met at gun point. As a matter of fact I haven’t had too many.”

  The alarm buzzers sounded three shorts, followed by two longs, then repeated. A dull roaring made itself known below.

  Dane eased his grip on the handrail. He shifted his palms slightly, feeling their stickiness. Earth, he thought. Home. In a few minutes the red landscape with its hostile lichens would fall out from beneath them, and soon they would pass out into the void, with the great mystery only guessed at. He knew the fear of death was deep inside him, as it was in everyone, but...well, there was no use thinking about that.

  Yudin said, “One more minute!”

  Dane braced himself for the application of lift thrust while the seconds ticked away. There would come only a gentle trembling of the Far Venture and a barely perceptible floating of the deck on which he stood. Still he couldn’t keep from bracing himself.

  It was happening before he noticed it. The rocket tubes were whispering like piny wind. Now metal quivered underfoot, and the whisper changed to a sullen humming as the power stepped up. Dane recalled the full-throated change of key to a whistling, whining blast when the Far Venture had repelled the weight of Earth and risen into the night sky of Arizona. Ears tuned for the rising pitch, he stared out at the lichens, waiting for them to sink away below when the Far Venture shook itself free.

  “Here we go!” Yudin shouted above the mounting rocket song.

  It was immediately obvious that they were not going. A hush sliced through the spacecraft. All power had been cut off.

  There was a full minute of the unnatural silence before the speakers came on. A voice boomed harshly. “Colonel Cragg to crew. The take-off has failed. We have not been able to mount enough thrust. Work is being resumed on the drive, and another attempt will be made after further adjustments. All crew members and all civilian party will be kept equally informed. Periodic announcements will be made. You will all know any developments as soon as they occur.”

  Yudin cursed mildly. “And that, my friend, is our death warrant. He doesn’t know anything more to do. That’s what he really means. Since there isn’t any hope, he’ll tell us everything but that one thing. That he hasn’t any real hope we’ll ever leave this goddamn planet.”

  “Look,” Dane reminded him. “Let’s you and I forget about this game we’re playing and put up that popgun. I’ve got something to tell him that may make a big difference.”

  He turned around slowly. Yudin managed a sheepish grin. He shoved the pistol back in his holster. Then his face hardened. “Now th
at I think of it, you just might at that. By any chance Vining wouldn’t be involved in it, would he? Maybe you know something about why the drive won’t move us?”

  “Don’t be a damn fool,” Dane told him. “I think maybe I do know something about what’s the matter with it. But if I’m right, Vining didn’t do anything to keep the drive from working. And neither did I.”

  “A few days ago there was a pretty big think that maybe you did.”

  Dane went over to the photo plane table. “You think I want to rot here anymore than you do? Take a look at this,” he added conversationally. He was not surprised.

  The message stood forth again. One arrives at spacecraft. Death to men. He read it off. “I think I’ve got the answer to that too.”

  Yudin grabbed up the phone and spoke rapidly. After a moment he stopped and listened. When he had hung up, he looked quizzically at Dane. “He says your ideas are probably as good as anybody’s. That was Colonel Cragg himself,” he explained. “He wants you to come down.” He went over to the chart table and sat down. “The Old Man must really be stumped.”

  “Command post?” Dane was already on his way.

  “Yeah,” Yudin said.

  28

  CRAGG SWUNG the wheel chair around sharply. “So now you’re ready to talk.”

  “I’m pretty sure about the Martians,” Dane said. “And I’ve got an idea that may work to get us away.”

  The hard eyes did not deviate. “So it’s still Martians. We have Martians in the drive, you think?”

  “I think,” Dane said. “I think the messages we have been receiving are genuine, so I think we have Martians right here at the spacecraft. Just as they say they are. I also think they are preventing us from a take-off.”

  “Just a minute.” Cragg rolled his wheel chair to the bench and toggled a switch. “I want to record this.”

  “Suit yourself,” Dane said. “Maybe I’m wrong and maybe I’m right, but it won’t cost you anything to try out my idea.”

  At least Lieutenant McDonald and Sergeant Peeney were all attention, their headsets cocked up off one ear. “For days now we’ve received messages. The evidence is unescapable that there is knowledgeable life on Mars. Unless we go back to your Tong Asia theory. Then what are the Martians? Where are they?”