man versus alien situations. An Earthman must adjust or die in the
Martian desert or the Venusian swamp. A young boy encounters enemy
Outsiders disguised as men in a play. ground. A human corresponds with a
citizen of Aurigae 11 (surface temperature 500 degrees Fahrenheit) . . .
van Vogt must be credited with plot ingenuity, skill in mysti. fixation,
and a certain poignance at his best, which is frequent in this
collection." Chicago Tribune ". . .
an outstanding collection of imaginative fiction, vigorous, believable
and (one of the rarest of all virtues in current science fiction)
economical." Fantasy and Science fiction
CONTENTS
FAR CENTAURUS.......................... 7
THE MONSTER............................26
DORMANT 42
THE ENCHANTED VILLAGE 58
A CAN OF Paint.........................71
DEFENSE . . 85
THE RULERS . 86
DEAR PEN PAL o 104
THE SOUND 110
THE SEARCH 132
FAR CENTAURUS
I WAKENED with a start, and thought: How was Renfrew taking it? I must
have moved physically, for blackness edged with pain closed over me. How
long I lay in that agonized faint, I have no means of knowing. My next
awareness was of the thrusting of the engines that drove the spaceship.
Slowly this time, consciousness returned. I lay very quiet, feeling the
weight of my years of sleep, determined to follow the routine prescribed
so long ago by Pelham.
I didn't want to faint again.
I lay there, and I thought: It was silly to have worried about Jim
Renfrew. He wasn't due to come out of his state of suspended animation
for another fifty years. I began to watch the illuminated face of the
clock in the ceiling. It has registered 23:12; now it was 23:22. The ten
minutes Pelham had suggested for a time lapse between passivity and
initial action was up. Slowly, I pushed my hand toward the edge of the
bed. Click! My fingers pressed the button that was there. There was a
faint hum. The automatic massager began to fumble gently over my naked
form. First, it rubbed my arms; then it moved to my legs, and so on over
my body. As it progressed, I could feel the fine slick of oil that oozed
from it working into my dry skin. A dozen times I could have screamed
from the pain of life returning. But in an hour I was able to sit up and
turn on the lights. The small, sparsely furnished, familiar room
couldn't hold my attention for more than an instant. I stood up. The
movement must have been too abrupt I swayed, caught on to the metal
column of the bed, and retched discolored stomach juices. The nausea
passed. But it required an effort of will for me to walk to the door,
open it, and head along the narrow corridor that led to the control
room. I wasn't supposed to so much as pause there, but a spasm of
absolutely dreadful fascination seized me; and I couldn't help it. I
leaned over the control chair, and glanced at the chronometer.
It said: 53 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, 0 days, 0 hours and 27 minutes.
Fifty-three years! A little blindly, almost blankly, I thought: Back on
Earth, the people we had known, the young men we'd gone to college with,
that girl who had kissed me at the party given us the night we left they
were all dead. Or dying of old age. I remembered the girl very vividly.
She was pretty, vivacious, a complete stranger. She had laughed as she
offered her red lips, and she had said "A kiss for the ugly one, too."
She'd be a grandmother now, or in her grave.
Tears came to my eyes. I brushed them away, and began to heat the can of
concentrated liquid that was to be my first food. Slowly, my mind
calmed. Fifty-three years and seven and one half months, I thought
drably. Nearly four years over my allotted time. I'd have to do some
figuring before I took another dose of Eternity drug. Twenty grains had
been calculated to preserve my flesh and my life for exactly fifty
years. The stuff was evidently more potent than Pelham had been able to
estimate from his short period advance tests. I sat tense, narrow-eyed,
thinking about that. Abruptly, I grew conscious of what I was doing.
Laughter spat from my lips. The sound split the silence like a series of
pistol shots, startling me.
But it also relieved me. Was I sitting here actually being critical?
A miss of only four years was bull's-eye across that span of years. Why,
I was alive and still young. Time and space had been conquered. The
universe belonged to man. I ate my "soup," sipping each spoonful
deliberately. I made the bowl last every second of thirty minutes. Then,
greatly refreshed, I made my way back to the control room. This time I
paused for a long look through the plates. It took only a few moments to
locate Sol, a very brightly glowing star in the approximate center of
the rearview plate. Alpha Centauri required longer to locate. But it
shone finally, a glow point in a light sprinkled darkness. I wasted no
time trying to estimate their distances. They looked right. In
fifty-four years we had covered approximately one tenth of the four and
one third light years to the famous nearest star system.
Satisfied, I threaded my way back to the living quarters. Take them in a
row, I thought. Pelham first. As I opened the airtight door of Pelham's
room, a sickening odor of decayed flesh tingled in my nostrils. With a
gasp I slammed the door, stood there in the narrow hallway, shuddering.
After a minute, there was still nothing but the reality.
Pelham was dead. I cannot clearly remember what I did then. I ran; I
know that. I flung open Renfrew's door, then Blake's. The clean, sweet
smell of their rooms, the sight of their silent bodies on their beds
brought back a measure of my sanity. A great sadness came to me. Poor,
brave Pelham. In- ventor of the Eternity drug that had made the great
plunge into interstellar space possible, he lay dead now from his own
invention. What was it he had said: "The chances are greatly against any
of us dying. But there is what I am calling a death factor of about ten
percent, a by-product of the first dose. If our bodies survive the
initial shock, they will survive additional doses." The death factor
must be greater than ten percent. That extra four years the drug had
kept me asleep Gloomily, I went to the storeroom, and procured my
personal space suit and a tarpaulin. But even with their help, it was a
horrible business. The drug had preserved the body to some extent, but
pieces kept falling off as I lifted it. At last, I carried the tarpaulin
and its contents to the air lock, and shoved it into space. I felt
pressed now for time. These waking periods were to be brief affairs, in
which what we called the "current" oxygen was to be used up, but the
main reserves were not to be touched. Chemicals in each room Lowly
refreshed the "current" air over the years, readying it for the next to
awaken. In some curious defensive fashion, we had neglected to allow for
an emergency like the death of one of our members; even as I climbed out
of the space suit, I could feel the difference in the air I was
breathing. I went first to the radio. It had been calculated that half a
light year was the limit of radio reception, and we were -approaching
that limit now. Hurriedly, though carefully, I wrote my report out, then
read it into a transcription record, and started sending. I set the
record to repeat a hundred times. In a little more than five months
hence, headlines would be flaring on Earth. I clamped my written report
into the ship log book, and added a note for Renfrew at the bottom. It
was a brief tribute to Pelham. My praise was heartfelt, but there was
an- other reason behind my note. They had been pals, Renfrew, the
engineering genius who built the ship, and Pelharn, the great
chemist-doctor, whose Eternity drug had made it possible for men to take
this fantastic journey into vastness. It seemed to me that Renfrew,
waking up into the great silence of the hurtling ship, would need my
tribute to his friend and colleague. It was little enough for me to do,
who loved them both. The note written, I hastily examined the glowing
engines, made notations of several instrument readings, and then counted
out fifty-five grains of Eternity drug. That was as close as I could get
to the amount I felt would be required for one hundred and fifty years.
For a long moment before sleep came, I thought of Ren- frew and the
terrible shock that was coming to him on top of all the natural
reactions to his situations, that would strike deep into his peculiar,
sensitive nature
I stirred uneasily at the picture.
The worry was still in my mind when darkness came. Almost instantly, I
opened my eyes. I lay thinking: The drug! It hadn't worked. The craggy
feel of my body warned me of the truth. I lay very still watching the
clock overhead. This time it was easier to follow the routine except
that, once more, I could not refrain from examining the chronometer as I
passed through the galley.
It read: 201 years, 1 month, 3 weeks, 5 days, 7 hours, 8 minutes.
I sipped my bowl of that super soup, then went eagerly to the big log
book. It is utterly impossible for me to describe the thrill that
coursed through me, as I saw the familiar handwriting of Blake, and
then, as I turned back the pages, of Renfrew. My excitement drained
slowly, as I read what Renfrew had written. It was a report; nothing
more: gravitometric readings, a careful calculation of the distance
covered, a detailed report on the performance of the engines, and,
finally, an estimate of our speed variations, based on the seven
consistent factors. It was a splendid mathematical job, a first-rate
scientific analysis. But that was all there was. No mention of Pelham,
not a word of comment on what I had written or on what had happened.
Renfrew had wakened; and, if his report was any criterion, he might as
well have been a robot. I knew better than that. SoI saw as I began to
read Blake's reportdid Blake.
Bill:
TEAR THIS SHEET OUT WHEN YOU'VE READ it. Well, the worst has happened. We
couldn't have asked fate to give us any Kindlier kick in the pants. I
hate to think of Pelham being dead. What a man he was, what a friend!
But we all knew the risk we were taking, he more than any of us. So all
we can say is, 'Sleep well, good friend. We'll never forget you.' But
Renfrew's case i now serious. After all, we were worried, wondering how
he'd take his first awakerung, let alone a bang between the eyes like
Pelham's death. And I think that the first anxiety was justified. As you
and I have always known, Renfrew was one of Earth's fair-haired boys.
Just imagine any one human being born with his combination of looks,
money and intelligence. His great fault was that he never let the future
trouble him. With that dazzling personality of his, and the crew of
worshipping women and yes-men around him, he didn't have much time for
anything but the pres-Realities always struck him like a thunderbolt.
He could leave those three ex-wives of his and they weren't so ex, if you
ask me without grasping that it was forever. That good-by party was
enough to put anyone into a sort of mental haze when it came to
realities. To wake up a hundred years later, and realize that those he
loved had withered, died and been eaten by worms well- (I deliberately
put it as baldly as that, because the human mind thinks of awfully
strange angles, no matter how it censures speech ) I personally counted
on Pelham acting as a sort of psychological support to Renfrew; and we
both know that Pelham recognized the extent of his influence over Ren-
frew. That influence must be replaced. Try to think of
something, Bill, while you're charging around doing the
routine work. We've got to live with that guy after we all
wake up at the end of five hundred years.
Tear out this sheet. What follows is routine. I burned the letter in the
incinerator, examined the two sleeping bodies how deathly quiet they
lay!and then re- turned to the control room. In the plate, the sun was a
very bright star, a jewel set in black velvet, a gorgeous, shining
brilliant. Alpha Centauri was brighter. It was a radiant light in that
panoply of black and glitter. It was still impossible to make out the
separate suns of Alpha A, B. C, and Proxima, but their combined light
brought a sense of awe and majesty. Excitement blazed inside me; and
consciousness came of the glory of this trip we were making, the first
men to head for far Centaurus, the first men to dare aspire to the
stars. Even the thought of Earth failed to dim that surging tide of
wonder; the thought that seven, possibly eight generations, had been
born since our departure; the thought that the girl who had given me the
sweet remembrance of her red lips, was now known to her descendants as
their great-great- great-great-grandmotherif she were remembered at all.
The immense time involved, the whole idea, was too meaningless for
emotion. I did my work, took my third dose of the drug, and went to bed.
The sleep found me still without a plan about Ren- frew.
When I woke up, alarm bells were ringing.
I lay still. There was nothing else to do. If I had moved, consciousness
would have slid from me. Though it was mental torture even to think it,
I realized that, no matter what the danger, the quickest way was to
follow my routine to the second and in every detail. Somehow I did it.
The bells clanged and barred, but I lay there until it was time to get
up. The clamor was hideous, as I passed through the control room. But I
passed through and sat for half an hour sipping my soup. The conviction
came to me that if that sound continued much longer, Blake and Renfrew
would surely waken from their sleep. At last, I felt free to cope with
the emergency. Breathing hard, I eased myself into the control chair,
cut off the mind- wrecking alarms, and switched on the plates. A fire
glowed at me from the rear-view plate. It was a colossal white fire,
longer than it was wide, and filling nearly a quarter of the whole sky.
The hideous thought came to me that we must be within a few million
miles of some monstrous sun that had recently roared into this part of
space. PranticaUy, I manipulated the distance estimatorsand then for a
moment stared in blank disbelief at the answers that clicked
metallically onto the product plate. Seven miles! Only seven miles!
Curious is the human mind. A moment before, when I had thought of it as
an abnormally shaped sun, it hadn't resembled anything but an
incandescent mass. Abruptly, now, I saw that it had a solid outline, an
unmistakable material shape.
Stunned, I leaped to my feet because
It was a spaceship! An enormous, mile-long ship. Rather I sank back into
my seat, subdued by the catastrophe I was witnessing, and consciously
adjusting my mindthe flaming hell of what had been a spaceship. Nothing
that had been alive could possibly still be conscious in that horror of
ravenous fire. The only possibility was that the crew had succeeded in
launching lifeboats. Like a madman, I searched the heavens for a light,
a glint of metal that would show the presence of survivors. There was
nothing but the night and the stars and the hell of burning ship. After
a long time, I noticed that it was farther away, and seemed to be
receding. Whatever drive forces had matched its velocity to ours must be
yielding to the fury of the energies that were consuming the ship. I
began to take pictures, and I felt justified in turning on the oxygen
reserves. As it withdrew into distance, the miniature nova that had been
a torpedo-shaped space liner began to change color, to lose its white
intensity. It became a red fire silhouetted against darkness. My last
glimpse showed it as a long, dull glow that looked like nothing else
than a cherry colored nebula seen edge on, like a blaze reflecting from
the night beyond a far horizon. I had already, in between observations,
done everything else required of me, and now, I re-connected the alarm
system and, very reluctantly, my mind seething with speculation,
returned to bed. As I lay waiting for my final dosage of the trip to
take effect, I thought: the great star system of Alpha Centauri must
have inhabited planets. If my calculations were correct, we were only
one point six light years from the main Alpha group of suns, slightly
nearer than that to red Proximal Here was proof that the universe had at
least one other supremely intelligent race. Wonders beyond our wildest
expectation were in store for us. Thrill on thrill of anticipation raced
through me. It was only at the last instant, as sleep was already
grasping at my brain, that the realization struck that I had completely
forgotten about the problem of Renfrew. I felt no alarm. Surely, even
Renfrew would come alive in that great fashion of his when confronted by
a complex alien civilization.
Our troubles were over.
Excitement must have bridged that final one hundred fifty years of time.
Because, when I wakened, I thought: "We're herel It's over, the hug
night, the incredible journey. We'll all be waking, seeing each other,
as well as the civilization out there. Seeing, too, the great Centauri
suns." The strange thing, it struck me as I lay there exulting, was that
the time seemed long. And yet . . . yet I had been awake only three
times, and only once f to change color, to lose its white intensity.
It became a red fire silhouetted against darkness. My last glimpse
showed it as a long, dull glow that looked like nothing else than a
cherry colored nebula seen edge on, like a blaze reflecting from the
night beyond a far horizon. I had already, in between observations, done
everything else required of me, and now, I re-connected the alarm system
and, very reluctantly, my mind seething with speculation, returned to
bed. As I lay waiting for my final dosage of the trip to take effect, I
thought: the great star system of Alpha Centauri must have inhabited
planets. If my calculations were correct, we were only one point six
light years from the main Alpha group of suns, slightly nearer than that
to red Proximal Here was proof that the universe had at least one other
supremely intelligent race. Wonders beyond our wildest expectation were
in store for us. Thrill on thrill of anticipation raced through me. It
was only at the last instant, as sleep was already grasping at my brain,
that the realization struck that I had completely forgotten about the
problem of Renfrew. I felt no alarm. Surely, even Renfrew would come
alive in that great fashion of his when confronted by a complex alien
civilization.
times, and only once for the equivalent of a full day. In the truest
...
widez2