“Two, you pick out one person—like a father, maybe, or in your case an older brother—and say whatever he does or whatever he expects me to do is what I’m going to do. That’s a pretty comfortable way to live, too. You’re following the footsteps of someone you respect and admire; so your orbit’s all charted for you. But again, you’re a little less Andy Marlow.
“Three—and this is the one I’m plugging for, Andy —you get this sort of image in your head of what you think Andy Marlow ought to be like, what he ought to do, and you stick to it. That isn’t necessarily a comfortable way to live. Lots of times you’ll disagree with people you love and want to agree with; lots of times you’ll feel out of step because the decisions you reach won’t always gain the approval of all the other people you come into contact with. But this way you’re your own man, Andy, and anything you decide to do with your own life, well, it comes from the inside out. It’s Andy Marlow acting on the world, and not the other way around. In the long run, if you have what it takes, you’ll be happiest that way.”
Frank picked the Academy application up and studied it for a long moment. “Would you feel better if I threw this thing away? Maybe one spaceman in the family is enough.”
“No,” Andy said. “But thanks for the speech, Frank. I won’t forget it. I just haven’t made up my mind yet.” He hadn’t forgotten the advice, but in the end he had decided on Luna Academy. Archaeology would always be his second love, but the call of space was too strong to resist. It was only after he had made the decision, completely on his own, that Frank had pointed out:
“Could be you’ll be able to mix them, Andy.”
“Mix what?”
“Space and archaeology. I didn’t want to tell you till you made up your mind. But didn’t it occur to you that every civilized world in the Galaxy has its archaeological past, just as Earth does?”
“I guess so, but you never hear of diggers visiting each other’s worlds to study alien ancient history.” “That’s true, you don’t,” Frank said soberly. “Maybe it’s one trouble with the Galaxy. Maybe it’s why we need a Star Brain to tell us what to do, because we don’t take the trouble to understand each other.”
“I think we ought to.”
Frank smiled. “Keep thinking like that, and I have a hunch one of these years I’ll sit back and watch my famous brother.”
Now in the rain at the spaceport in Mexico Andy remembered Frank’s words. You get this sort of image in your head of what you think Andy Marlow ought to be like, what he ought to do, and you stick to it.
Frank was dead, had died earthbound though his own idea of Frank Marlow had been of Frank Marlow, spaceman. And all at once nothing was as important to Andy as Frank’s advice. Whatever else you did, you had to be true to yourself—it boiled down to that.
If space was important enough to him, and it was, Andy could see himself disobeying the Edict and returning to the star trails.
But he couldn’t see himself following Reed Ballinger with his rocket guns and cobalt bombs to interstellar war.
Soaked and breathless, he reached the edge of the tarmac. In the light shed by the windows of the nearby administration building he could see a sentry patrolling, head low, body huddled under a poncho, the sheets of tropical rain bouncing off his slumped shoulders.
Andy waited until the sentry was out of sight. As nearly as he could remember, it was at about this point that the Indians and their burros had entered the jungle. Andy stumbled into the first thick undergrowth and searched for the trail that would lead to their village. He didn’t know exactly what he would do when he got there. He only knew he wanted to leave Reed Ballinger’s spaceport, return to civilization and then… .
And then what?
He couldn’t report to the authorities on Ballinger’s plans. Turk and too many of his old friends from Luna Academy had joined up with Ballinger, and if Andy betrayed the ex-Space Captain, even if Ballinger deserved it, he’d be betraying his friends as well. Yet if he didn’t, if he allowed Ballinger to go ahead with his plans, the result might well be the first … and the last … interstellar war in history.
Betrayal of his friends through action or betrayal of mankind through lack of action, it came down to that.
Andy found the jungle trail and sloshed along it. The water swirled at his feet. In places it was knee-deep. Despite that, Andy set a grueling pace for himself. He had no idea how far the village was, and there were now less than six hours till sunrise when he would he missed.
He counted cadence—walk quickstep two hundred paces, then double time two hundred paces, then quickstep again. Splashing, floundering, he made his way along the narrow jungle trail.
After half an hour he allowed himself the luxury of a five-minute break. He sat, drenched and panting, on a stump, listening to the sound of his own breathing and the steady roar of the storm.
Then he heard another sound. It was unmistakable, footsteps slogging along the trail behind him.
He was being followed.
Chapter 6 The Trail of a Spaceman
Andy stood in a crouch at the edge of the trail.
He could see nothing. The darkness was complete. He felt steamy with sweat under his sodden jumper. His own breath was loud in his ears, and he wondered whether his pursuer would hear it. For the first time he felt fear … what if it were an armed sentry splashing toward through the night? He knew he had no choice. He had to wait for whoever it was and subdue him. If he didn’t, if he were pursued all the way to the Indian village, and if the man who had followed him were armed… .
A wet branch slapped against his face. His pursuer had reached him.
Andy sprang at him, hitting him waist-high with a shoulder and bringing him down in the muddy water.
They floundered there, rolling over and over in the mud.
The man was very strong and seemed as determined as Andy was. Once Andy went over on his back, to feel himself pinned in the mud. His head was under water; he swallowed a mouthful and gagged and lashed out with arms and legs to scramble atop his still unseen antagonist. There was a gurgling sound as he forced the man’s head under water as he straddled him. Andy let go. Whoever it was, he didn’t want to drown him.
A familiar voice cried out, “Leggo, darn you!”
It was Turk.
Andy released his grip and rose shakily to his feet. His knees trembled with reaction.
Turk said, “You want to kill a guy?”
Relief flooded through Andy. It was Turk, he told himself, and Turk had followed him. Turk had decided to join him; they were still friends; together they could work out what they had to do… .
“You’re coming back with me,” Turk said.
The disappointment of those few words was like a blow. Andy didn’t answer.
“We can get back in the dorm safe and sound before dawn, and nobody but me will know what a darned fool you almost were,” Turk said.
‘‘I’m not going back, Turk.”
“Are you crazy? You’ve got to go back. Do you think I can let you go? One word out of you and the police will have us all flushed out of Captain Ballinger’s spaceport inside of twenty-four hours.”
“Maybe that would be the best thing that could happen to you.”
There was a silence. Turk sighed finally. “We used to be friends, Andy.”
“I know.”
“There’s a whole bunch of your friends back there, guys you lived with on Luna. Do you want to betray all of them?”
“I don’t know,” Andy admitted.
“Don’t you realize Reed Ballinger’s doing what he’s doing for the good of mankind?”
“That’s not the way I see it.”
“Do you see any other way?”
“No,” Andy said.
“Maybe you’d like to see over five billion Earth-men make like Yucatec Indians?”
“I wouldn’t like to see one Earthman start a war no one will finish.”
“Listen,” Turk said, “if you’re du
mb enough to kick over your one chance to get back into space, go ahead. I won’t stop you, But a lot of guys who were your friends are in this up to their ears, and a lot of guys your brother would have been proud to call his friends, too, You go to the police, and we all face prison. Go on, get out if you’re dumb enough to. But don’t turn us in, Andy, You can’t.”
“I never said I would,” Andy heard himself saying, because the plea in his old friend’s words was more than he could bear, “I just want out; that’s all.”
“You mean you won’t turn us in?”
Andy took a deep breath. “No, Turk. I couldn’t do that.”
Turk brightened. “Then come on back with me before it’s too late.”
“I couldn’t do that either.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Turk said.
“Maybe I am. But I’m the one who has to live with myself.”
The two friends were silent for a while. Andy’s throat felt sore. He hadn’t realized it, but they had both been shouting to make themselves heard over the roar of the downpour.
Suddenly Andy felt Turk’s wet hand groping for his. They stood there, in the dark, utterly drenched, unable to see each other, and shook hands.
“I hope someday… .” Turk began, and his voice trailed off.
“We’re still friends if you want to be, Turk,” Andy’s voice was choked. Turk was his best friend, and probably his last remaining friend since he’d lied from Reed Ballinger’s spaceport. He wondered whether he would ever see Turk again. And then he realized, even though he didn’t know where he would go or what he would do, that if they did meet again circumstances might make them enemies. Whatever happened, Andy wanted no part of Reed Ballinger’s schemes.
“I want to be,” Turk said and pumped Andy’s hand vigorously again. Then he was gone. Andy listened for the sound of his retreating footsteps but heard only the storm.
Head down, dispirited, Andy continued along the jungle trail.
Andy reached the Indian village at dawn. The storm had stopped, and the sun burst over the horizon to reveal a clearing several hundred yards in diameter. Crude huts dotted it, and stolid Indians in their doorways looked at Andy without interest.
He felt cut off, not merely from civilization but from any sort of life he had ever known. It was like the landing at White Sands all over again, but at least then Andy had known that the Placement Center was doing what it could for the ex-Cadets. Now Andy was completely on his own. His brother Frank was dead; he had deserted his best friend because he’d had to. There was no one who would care whether he remained in the Yucatec jungle all his life or returned to civilization, no one whose life would be touched one iota whether he lived or died.
“Hello,” an Indian called and marched from his hut to greet Andy. He had a broad square face and alert, friendly dark eyes. “You are from the spaceport?”
The unexpected sound of his own language encouraged Andy. “That’s right. I … I’d like to get back to North America.”
“It is a long way,” the Indian said gravely. Proudly he added, “I speak good English, yes? I learn it in mission school. There is a bus that goes to Merida, and from Merida the airplane.”
“I have no money for the bus,” Andy said.
The Indian flashed white teeth. “Still, you are lucky. I, Tuhalpa, am driver of the bus. For chance to speak the language English, I will take you.”
Tuhalpa told him the bus didn’t leave until late afternoon. Andy’s spirits plummeted. That meant Ballinger’s guards would come searching for him while he was still in the village.
He said, “I’ve had some trouble at the spaceport. You’d only get in trouble yourself if you …”
Tuhalpa raised a hand and told him, “Please, you are not only one. In past, three young spacemen come here to village of Tuhalpa. It is safe, young friend.”
“You mean I’m not the first who … ran away?”
“Three others,” Tuhalpa repeated, and the knowledge heartened Andy as nothing had since his return to Earth from the Academy on Luna. It meant he wasn’t the only one who didn’t believe Reed Ballinger’s way was right. But if three others had escaped, he suddenly thought, why hadn’t the police landed their jet-copters at the spaceport and put a stop to Ballinger’s illegal activities?
“Come inside, please,” Tuhalpa urged. “For speaking English.”
Three armed spaceport guards reached the little village in mid afternoon.
With Tuhalpa and his wife, a plump and cheerful woman who spoke no English but who all but force fed Andy on the simple Indian fare, Andy watched them through the chinks in the wall of the hut. They spoke to the headman; Andy couldn’t hear what they said. He saw the old headman gesturing and shrugging.
Tuhalpa smiled and said softly, “He is telling them no visitor came to village today.”
“Why?” Andy asked. “Why is he doing it?” Tuhalpa’s answer was simple and somehow encouraging. “Yucatec Indians give up warfare in time of my great-grandfather. Yucatec Indians no like men with guns.”
Andy nodded slowly. He was aware of Tuhalpa’s strong hand on his shoulder. “Now it is time you hide.”
“Hide?”
“They have great fear of trickery. They search all houses.”
There was a stuffy little storeroom in the back of the hut, and Tuhalpa’s wife led Andy in there. Crates and slats and bales of the coarse white fabric from which the Indians wove their garments were piled in the little room. Tuhalpa’s wife made a nest of logs and boards and fabric for Andy. He nestled down in it and heard her departing footsteps. After that he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat, then voices dimly, and then one voice close and loud.
“What’s in there?”
“Storeroom,” said Tuhalpa.
“Let’s have a look.”
“If the spaceman wishes.”
Andy held his breath.
Boots clamped on the clay of the storeroom floor. “Nothing in here,” a voice said.
“It’s always the same,” another voice complained. “They must go somewhere.”
“Not to this village. Come on.”
Then barely heard voices again, and then silence. After a long time, Andy felt the slats and logs and boards being lifted away. lie blinked at the light.
“Young Cadet safe now,” Tuhalpa smiled at him.
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“There is way,” Tuhalpa said gravely.
‘‘I’ll do anything I can.”
“After Merida, where will young Cadet go?”
“I don’t know. North America. White Sands, I guess.”
Tuhalpa shook his head. “As special favor to Tuhalpa, young Cadet will go to Mexico City. Young Cadet can fly without ticket, yes?”
“Yes, but … who are you?”
“Am only poor bus driver to Merida. In Mexico City, young Cadet will visit friend of Tuhalpa, yes? Name of Ruy Alvarez.”
“Alvarez?” Andy gasped. “Captain Alvarez?”
“Young Cadet knows Ruy Alvarez?” Tuhalpa asked with a mysterious smile.
“He was just one of the most famous Space Captains of them all,” Andy said eagerly.
“Good. Bus leaves in one hour.” Tuhalpa gave Andy Ruy Alvarez’s address in Mexico City.
An hour later they were on the road to Merida in an ancient, clattering bus. A dozen or so Indians, some carrying caged chickens, little bundles, and small crates, shared the bus with him. Andy sat up front near Tuhalpa. The Indian parried all his questions about Huy Alvarez.
They said good-by at the Merida airport. Tuhalpa would not accept Andy’s thanks. “It is I, young Cadet, who should thank you. Have much valuable practice of the language English, yes?” He blinked and smiled in the bright sunlight on the edge of the runway and mentioned Captain Alvarez’s name for the first time since leaving the village. “And Ruy Alvarez, he says to help young Cadets like you is to help all my people and even all mankind.”
“But how did he�
�� .”
“Good luck, Cadet.”
Tuhalpa turned and strode briskly away toward his waiting bus. A few minutes later Andy boarded a turbo-jet airliner that was as old as the bus itself. The flight stairs were withdrawn. Turbo-jets whining, the plane roared down the runway and was airborne.
The patio of Captain Ruy Alvarez’s big hacienda on the southern outskirts of Mexico City was lit by candlelight. Insects chirped in the darkness, and the scent of tropical flowers was strong in Andy’s nostrils. Distantly he could hear the roar of jet-car traffic on the big boulevard running north to the city.
“Is there anything else you wish?” Ruy Alvarez asked.
Andy shook his head. “If I eat any more, I’ll burst, Captain Alvarez.”
Ruy Alvarez was a small, dark-haired man as lean as a foil. He had olive skin and a small, serious mouth. He suddenly leaned forward across the table. Until then he’d been making only small talk, and though he was a splendid host Andy felt a growing sense of impatience.
“Now that you’ve left Ballinger’s spaceport,” Captain Alvarez asked—and looking at him Andy knew the small talk was over—“what do you intend to do?” “1 don’t know,” Andy said frankly.
“Ballinger’s activities are illegal,” Alvarez pointed out. “Why don’t you make a report to the police?”
“I can’t,” Andy said.
“No? And why can’t you?”
“I made a promise …to a friend.”
“One of Ballinger’s men?”
“Yes.”
“I see. But you couldn’t stop me from reporting what you have told me to the police, could you?” “No,” Andy admitted, “I couldn’t.”
Captain Alvarez stood up and paced back and forth on the terrazzo floor of the patio. Behind him an ornate fountain gurgled. ‘Tm not going to,” he said at last. Andy said nothing.
Spaceman Go Home Page 4