Spaceman Go Home

by Milton Lesser

  “We’ve known what Ballinger has been doing for months. We’ve known it ever since the first disenchanted Cadet fled from his port in Arabia.”

  “Arabia?”

  “Arabia, and here in Mexico, and in Argentina,

  Japan, India, twelve in all.” Captain Alvarez smiled. “You see, we don’t want to stop Ballinger.”

  Andy stood up, too. He was shocked. “Don’t tell me you believe in what he’s trying to do?”

  ‘‘This friend of yours,” Alvarez said evasively. ‘‘You would protect him no matter what?”

  “I’m not sure. I think he’s doing the wrong thing. But I made a promise. So many of my friends are there.”

  With his back turned Alvarez said slowly, “I knew another Marlow once, a brave man who would put principle above friendship if he had to … and who made a better friend for it.”

  Andy felt a lump in his throat. “You knew Frank Marlow? You knew my brother?”

  “We rocketed down the star trails many times together, Andy.”

  “Then try to tell me. If he had a friend … if he… ,”

  “No one can tell you what to do, Andy. You yourself must decide.”

  “But you already said you won’t go to the police. Doesn’t that mean you don’t want me to go either?” “Yes, it means that.”

  “Can you tell me why?”

  Alvarez shook his head. “If you hadn’t made that promise, Andy, then I could have told you.” Alvarez stopped his pacing and asked again, “What are your plans?”

  “I guess I haven’t any. Space is closed to us forever, I don’t have to tell you that. Once 1 wanted to be an archaeologist but … 1 don’t know … who cares about the past?”

  Alvarez’s black eyes studied him. “Perhaps more people than you think.” The ex-Space Captain began pacing again. His words had been cryptic. Andy didn’t know what he possibly could have meant. “If I asked you to, would you withdraw the promise you made to your friend?” Alvarez raised a hand, for Andy was about to speak. “Wait. Before you answer. If you did withdraw it, there is much 1 could tell you.” “About what?”

  “First I have to know I can trust you. But remember this: three other Cadets left Ballinger’s Yucatec spaceport. All went to Tuhalpa’s village. All drove with Tuhalpa to Merida. All Hew from Merida to Mexico City. I saw them all.”

  Andy shook his head. “I gave Turk my word. I can’t go back on it.”

  “Your brother… .”

  “My brother is dead.”

  Captain Alvarez turned his back again. “The ramjet he was piloting crashed at Stavanger Airport in Norway.”

  “You know about that?”

  “I know … all about it. What will you do when you leave here, Andy?”

  “I don’t know. There’s nothing I… .”

  “May I make a suggestion? You have a pass to fly wherever you wish. Why don’t you fly to Stavanger?” “What good would that do? Frank’s dead.”

  “You thought a great deal of your brother?”

  Andy swallowed hard. “I was the luckiest kid in the world to have a brother like Frank”

  “Very well. Then I repeat: go to Stavanger, Andy. He Hew the New York-Stavanger run many times. The people who knew him, his friends, are in Norway. He crashed there.” Alvarez went on, again mysteriously, “Perhaps the people there who called Frank Marlow their friend could tell you things I am unable to tell you here.”

  Andy didn’t answer right away, but he knew what his answer would be. Maybe Alvarez was right, he thought. Maybe meeting the people who had known Frank in Norway would help Andy decide what to do with his own life.

  “I’ll go,” he said finally. “I guess I should have gone as soon as Captain Strayer told me Frank was dead.” Surprisingly, Alvarez disagreed. “I think not. I think it is well you saw Ballinger’s spaceport and learned Ballinger’s plans.”

  “I can’t understand you at all,” Andy said rashly. “One minute I get the impression you don’t like Reed Ballinger; the next it’s as if you admire him tremendously.”

  Alvarez’s small mouth became prim. “There is much to admire about a man like Reed Ballinger. He is a born leader of men. He is a superb pilot. He is brave and strong-willed.” Alvarez concluded, “But with his bravery and willfulness he has done humanity more harm than any man in modern history, and if he is allowed to go through with his plans it will mean war from here to Canopus, such a war as humanity and the other intelligent races of the Galaxy have never known.”

  “Then why don’t you stop him? If you know all about him, why don’t you… .”

  “We can’t because we need him.”

  “You keep saying that: we need him. Who do you mean?”

  “If you catch the night ramjet to New York,” Alvarez said, “you can be in Norway in the morning.”

  Chapter 7 Freya

  THE GREAT ramjet lines cruise in the upper stratosphere at fifty thousand feet.

  There the sky is a deep, velvety blue, as close to the black star-studded immensity of space itself as an ex-Cadet on an earthbound world can come.

  Andy sat at the window amidships in the huge liner, staring out at the deep, deep blueness. It was early morning, and the ramjet, at two thousand miles per hour, was bound from New York to what had been Stavanger Interstellar Spaceport in Norway and was now a planetary airport.

  It was late spring, and with the blossoms in full bloom along Norway’s fjords the New York-Stavanger ran was busy. Norway in late spring was a perfect vacation land.

  Of the two hundred passengers aboard the ramjet, only Andy wasn’t in a holiday mood. Almost, he felt contempt for his fellow passengers. Tourists, holiday bound, they seemed unaware of the Edict that had outlawed Earth from space. But then Andy realized his attitude wasn’t fair; the Edict hadn’t been in effect long enough for the economic pinch of isolation to be felt on Earth. Why shouldn’t they enjoy themselves? This year, or next year, or perhaps the one after that, Earth would become a poor, overcrowded planet, with not enough jobs to go around, maybe not even enough food.

  The attitude of his fellow passengers toward Andy was one of indifference, for Ruy Alvarez had given him a change of clothing in Mexico and he no longer wore the telltale Cadet jumper. Remembering the ugly scene at New Mexico Spaceport, he decided he was lucky.

  Just as he decided that, the public address system of the liner squawked on, and a voice announced, “Attention please, ladies and gentlemen. Fasten your seat belts. We are losing altitude now and approaching Sola Airport in Stavanger. We are due to land in fifteen minutes.”

  Sola Airport, Andy knew, was the old name for Stavanger Interstellar Spaceport. Now they were using it again, as if, this soon, the very thought of space was alien to them.

  He looked out the window, and far ahead under the wing where the shoal waters were pale blue he could see the green-gray of the Norwegian headlands near Stavanger. He guessed their altitude at about fifteen thousand feet; the ramjet had gone into a long descending glide.

  Perhaps Frank had come down like this, Andy thought, suddenly to lose control of the big liner and meet shattering death on the low, rugged mountains below.

  “My brother used to work here,” Andy told the uniformed man at the information desk a half hour later.

  “What as?”

  “A pilot. He was Frank Marlow. I wonder if you could… .”

  “Frank Marlow? Say, I remember. Come to think of it, he looked something like you.” The man stared down at his desk top suddenly. “Wait a minute. He … died, didn’t he?”

  “That’s right,” Andy said. “He crashed here. If I can, I want to find out exactly how it happened.” The words came with surprising ease, as if they had nothing to do with Andy Marlow and his big brother Frank who had died. But Andy’s eyes were smarting.

  “… Captain Olafson,” the man was saying.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Captain Olafson knew your brother. He’s in the ready-room now. If a
nybody can tell you what happened, Ollie can.” The man scribbled a pass for Andy and gave him directions.

  After thanking him, Andy went across the big rotunda of the terminal building, then up a ramp to the ready-room where half a dozen uniformed pilots were sitting around drinking hot coffee and smoking.

  ‘Tm looking for Captain Olafson,” Andy said to the nearest pilot.

  “You’re not just looking for ^him, you’re looking at him. What can I do for you, son?”

  Captain Olafson was a giant of a man, close to six and a half feet tall, with enormous shoulders and arms. He had a red face and an unruly thatch of white-blond hair.

  “I’m Andy Marlow. I… .”

  Captain Olafson didn’t let him finish. Instead, a huge hand pounded Andy’s back as Olafson’s voice boomed, “Frank’s brother 1 Sure, I should have known it, son. Maybe you could stand a few pounds, but except for that you’re the image of him. What brings you to Stavanger … as if I didn’t know.” For some reason, Olafson winked.

  Puzzled, Andy said: “I want to find out exactly how my brother died.”

  The expectant grin that had followed the wink on Olafson’s big red face vanished. He scowled at Andy. The big shoulders moved in a shrug. “Exactly how he died, is it?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, there isn’t much to tell. We had an engine failure on one of the big babies here in Sola. Frank flew to Oslo in a jet-copter to ferry back a spare ramjet.

  “Then there weren’t any passengers when he crashed?”

  “No, just Frank and his co-pilot. By the time they flew the ramjet in from Oslo, fog had shrouded the entire coast from Bergen south. They made an instrument landing, but something went wrong. She came down on one wing and bellied over. The co-pilot died instantly. Frank was taken to the hospital here in Stavanger, critically injured.”

  “He died there?”

  Captain Olafson looked long at Andy before answering. Finally he said, “He was badly injured, son. It was a miracle he stayed alive that long. Maybe they can tell you more at the hospital.” Olafson finished his coffee. “Matter of fact, you can see my sister Freya there. She’s a nurse, and she was on the emergency ward when they brought Frank in. That’s all I can tell you.”

  Andy nodded, and then because he’d always been outspoken and frank, and because Captain Olafson seemed at the same time both friendly and somehow lacking in sympathy, he said, “Were you Frank’s friend?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “Spaceman?”

  Olafson scowled. “I wish I had been. I washed out ten years ago, son, and took to ramjets instead, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t recognize a good spaceman when 1 saw one. Your brother was one of the best.” “You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?” “Hiding something? Why should I?”

  “I don’t know. I’m asking you.”

  “You asked me about the crash, and I told you. What else did you expect?”

  Before Andy could answer, a loudspeaker on the wall blared, “Captain Olafson, board your plane. Captain Olafson, board your plane.”

  Olafson headed for the door. He turned there to tell Andy, “See my sister at the hospital, son. See Freya.” And then he was gone.

  Freya Olafson had just completed her tour of duty when Andy reached the hospital. It was a large plasti-glass-walled building perched on a rocky bluff above the waters of the Stavanger Fjord. When Andy reached the reception desk, a voice behind him said, “You must be Andy.”

  He whirled, surprised. Coming toward him in her pale blue nurse’s uniform was a tall, pretty girl with silver-blond hair. She had big blue eyes the same deep color as the waters of the fjord. She was smiling.

  “Miss Olafson?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was low-pitched, deep for a woman’s, but musical.

  “How did you know who I was?”

  “Looking at you, anyone can tell. It is like seeing your brother all over again, a younger edition.” Though Freya Olafson’s English was excellent, her voice had the cadence and lilt of someone who felt most at home with the Norwegian language.

  “I’ve been told that before,” Andy said. “But how did you know I was coming?”

  Freya’s cheeks dimpled. “I could say my brother called me from Sola Airport.”

  “You could, except that he went to board his plane.”

  “Well then, Captain Alvarez called me from Mexico.”

  That surprised Andy. “He did? What’s so important about me?”

  “Every Cadet or ex-spaceman who defects from Reed Ballinger is important to us.”

  “I came here to find out all I could about my brother,” Andy said.

  “I can tell you everything you want to know,” Freya answered.

  Andy nodded slowly. They went outside together into the bright transparent northern sunlight.

  Stavanger Fjord was not one of the awesome chasms like Hardanger, Sogne. and Geiranger to the north. Instead, it looked almost as tranquil as a lake surrounded by wooded hills, the pines so thick on them they looked black. But Andy knew the water was sea water and incredibly deep. It mirrored the pines on its still surface. A small white hovercraft went swiftly up the fjord like a stone scaled on the water. From it Andy heard faintly the sound of singing. Except for the hovercraft, to walk along the shore of Stavanger Fjord was to open the pages of a history book to a quieter, simpler time.

  Neither of them spoke for a long time. Finally Freya said, “You asked what is so important about you, Andy, and I told you that every Cadet who defects from Reed Ballinger is important to us. Do you know what happens to every Cadet who flees from one of Ballinger’s spaceports? Through an intermediary like Ruy Alvarez, he is sent here to Norway.”

  “Then Alvarez was just humoring me when he told me to find out about my brother? He wanted me to come here anyway?”

  “I suppose … yes … you could put it that way. Because he couldn’t tell you the real reason we wanted you to come.”

  “Why not?” But Andy answered his own question. “Oh, now I get it. Because I’d made a promise to a friend that I wouldn’t betray Ballinger. Is that what you mean?”

  “Andy, listen to me. The most valuable recruits we can get are Cadets or ex-spacemen like you.”

  “There are thousands of us who’ve been exiled back to Earth. Why am I so special?”

  “Because you spent some time with Ballinger. Because you have friends at one of Ballinger’s spaceports.”

  “Now look,” Andy said, exasperated. “First Ruy Alvarez gave me the big mystery treatment, then your brother did, and now you are. What’s happening?”

  Freya stopped walking. Behind her were the waters of the fjord and the dark pine-clad hills. “What would you say, Andy, if I told you Reed Ballinger wasn’t the only one determined to return to space? What would you say if I told you we were, too?” Freya laughed. “You look shocked.”

  “I’d say you were as bad as he was. I’d say Lambert Strayer was right. I’d say anyone who tried to blast his way back into space… .”

  “But I never said anything about blasting our way back into space. For one thing, someone must go if Ballinger goes, if for no other reason, than to prevent from starting an interstellar war.”

  ‘That’s not true,” Andy bristled. “If you wanted to stop ^m, you could stop him right here on Earth.” Andy stared at her accusingly, and Freya said slowly, “But that is precisely the point. We do not want to stop him.”

  “You just said… .”

  “Perhaps someone can explain it to you better than I can. Captain Lambert Strayer is here in Norway.” That surprised Andy. “He is? Is he one of the people you and Ruy Alvarez keep talking about?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s going to explain things to me? Then why didn’t he do it in White Sands?”

  “I already told you. The more recruits we get who know Ballinger’s forces, who have worked with them, the better it is for us. But it wasn’t Lambert Strayer I was talking about.
Someone else who was in it from the very beginning can tell you what we are trying to do even better than Strayer can.”

  Andy waited. He was aware again of Freya’s smile and aware too that she was smiling and almost crying at the same time. Her eyes had filled with tears.

  And then as the tears of incredulous disbelief and joy sprang to his own eyes, too, he heard Freya’s words, “Ruy Alvarez left it to me whether to tell you or not. I am taking you north to our headquarters, Andy. Now, this afternoon. There, one of the greatest spacemen who ever lived will tell you all you want to know. His name is Frank Marlow, Andy. He isn’t dead. Your brother isn’t dead.”

  Chapter 8 Land of the Midnight Sun

  THERE were the roar of the jet-copter’s rotors and the whine of the wind past its thin-skinned fuselage. There were the deep silver fingers of the mighty fjords far below, poking into the mountainous coast of western Norway, and later the snow ridges and eternally snow-capped peaks and glaciers of the Jotunheim mountains, and still later the broad vistas of tundra country above the Arctic Circle. There was the square back of the taciturn pilot whose name Andy never learned. And most of all there was Freya, telling him about his brother.

  “The crash was just as Ollie must have told you,” she said. “Frank’s co-pilot died instantly. He was a German named Speer, who had been a Space Captain with Frank. Your brother was badly injured. When they took him to the hospital, we hardly had hope. He had lost a great deal of blood, and both his arms and one leg were fractured. Almost miraculously, there were no severe internal injuries. After a week, he was out of danger. After two …” here Freya smiled ”. . . it was hard to keep him in bed. And after three, the first man to flee from Ballinger’s spaceports contacted us. That was the first time we had heard of what Reed Ballinger wanted to do. It was what Frank had been waiting for.”

  “What was?”

  “Ballinger. If his fleet actually leaves Earth—and it will—we can leave, too.”

  “But what does that have to do with… .”