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Semanticate
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acabal committed Dec 6, 2023
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2 changes: 1 addition & 1 deletion src/epub/text/beyond-the-door.xhtml
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<p>“Fine.” Bob gazed at her slim legs below the hem of the robe. “How nice you look today.”</p>
<p>She laughed. “Be careful! Maybe I shouldn’t let you in after all.”</p>
<p>They looked at one another, half amused half frightened. Presently Bob said, “If you want, I’ll⁠—”</p>
<p>“No, for God’s sake.” She caught hold of his sleeve. “Just get out of the doorway so I can close it. <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Peters across the street, you know.”</p>
<p>“No, for God’s sake.” She caught hold of his sleeve. “Just get out of the doorway so I can close it. <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Peters across the street, you know.”</p>
<p>She closed the door. “And I want to show you something,” she said. “You haven’t seen it.”</p>
<p>He was interested. “An antique? Or what?”</p>
<p>She took his arm, leading him toward the dining-room. “You’ll love it, Bobby.” She stopped, wide-eyed. “I hope you will. You must; you must love it. It means so much to me⁠—<em>he</em> means so much.”</p>
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10 changes: 5 additions & 5 deletions src/epub/text/mr-spaceship.xhtml
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<body epub:type="bodymatter z3998:fiction">
<article id="mr-spaceship" epub:type="se:short-story">
<header>
<h2 epub:type="title"><abbr>Mr.</abbr> Spaceship</h2>
<h2 epub:type="title"><abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Spaceship</h2>
<p epub:type="bridgehead">A human brain-controlled spacecraft would mean mechanical perfection. This was accomplished, and something unforeseen: a strange entity called⁠—</p>
</header>
<p>Kramer leaned back. “You can see the situation. How can we deal with a factor like this? The perfect variable.”</p>
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<p>“I’ll take it,” the pilot said. He eased Winter out of the way and strapped himself in place. The ship began to move away from the moon as he manipulated the controls. Down below them they could see the observation stations dotting the surface, and the tiny squares that were the openings of the underground factories and hangars. A red blinker winked up at them and the pilot’s fingers moved on the board in answer.</p>
<p>“We’re past the moon,” the pilot said, after a time. The moon had fallen behind them; the ship was heading into outer space. “Well, we can go ahead with it.”</p>
<p>Kramer did not answer.</p>
<p>“<abbr>Mr.</abbr> Kramer, we can go ahead any time.”</p>
<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Kramer, we can go ahead any time.”</p>
<p>Kramer started. “Sorry. I was thinking. All right, thanks.” He frowned, deep in thought.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Gross asked.</p>
<p>“The wiring changes. Did you understand the reason for them when you gave the okay to the workmen?”</p>
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<p>Kramer got out of bed. He put on his bathrobe and began to search for a cigarette. While he was searching, the vidphone rang.</p>
<p>He snapped the vidphone on.</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>The face of the immediate monitor appeared. “A call from Terra, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Kramer. An emergency call.”</p>
<p>The face of the immediate monitor appeared. “A call from Terra, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Kramer. An emergency call.”</p>
<p>“Emergency call? For me? Put it through.” Kramer came awake, brushing his hair back out of his eyes. Alarm plucked at him.</p>
<p>From the speaker a strange voice came. “Philip Kramer? Is this Kramer?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Go on.”</p>
<p>“This is General Hospital, New York City, Terra. <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Kramer, your wife is here. She has been critically injured in an accident. Your name was given to us to call. Is it possible for you to⁠—”</p>
<p>“This is General Hospital, New York City, Terra. <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Kramer, your wife is here. She has been critically injured in an accident. Your name was given to us to call. Is it possible for you to⁠—”</p>
<p>“How badly?” Kramer gripped the vidphone stand. “Is it serious?”</p>
<p>“Yes, it’s serious, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Kramer. Are you able to come here? The quicker you can come the better.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it’s serious, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Kramer. Are you able to come here? The quicker you can come the better.”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Kramer nodded. “I’ll come. Thanks.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The screen died as the connection was broken. Kramer waited a moment. Then he tapped the button. The screen relit again. “Yes, sir,” the monitor said.</p>
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6 changes: 3 additions & 3 deletions src/epub/text/piper-in-the-woods.xhtml
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<hr/>
<p>Harris snapped off the light. The room was pitch black. “I’ll run this first reel for you. The subject is one of the best biologists stationed at the Garrison. Robert Bradshaw. He came in yesterday. I got a good run from the shock box because Bradshaw’s mind is so highly differentiated. There’s a lot of repressed material of a non-rational nature, more than usual.”</p>
<p>He pressed a switch. The projector whirred, and on the far wall a three-dimensional image appeared in color, so real that it might have been the man himself. Robert Bradshaw was a man of fifty, heavyset, with iron grey hair and a square jaw. He sat in the chair calmly, his hands resting on the arms, oblivious to the electrodes attached to his neck and wrist. “There I go,” Harris said. “Watch.”</p>
<p>His film-image appeared, approaching Bradshaw. “Now, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Bradshaw,” his image said, “this won’t hurt you at all, and it’ll help us a lot.” The image rotated the controls on the shock box. Bradshaw stiffened, and his jaw set, but otherwise he gave no sign. The image of Harris regarded him for a time and then stepped away from the controls.</p>
<p>“Can you hear me, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Bradshaw?” the image asked.</p>
<p>His film-image appeared, approaching Bradshaw. “Now, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Bradshaw,” his image said, “this won’t hurt you at all, and it’ll help us a lot.” The image rotated the controls on the shock box. Bradshaw stiffened, and his jaw set, but otherwise he gave no sign. The image of Harris regarded him for a time and then stepped away from the controls.</p>
<p>“Can you hear me, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Bradshaw?” the image asked.</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“What is your name?”</p>
<p>“Robert C. Bradshaw.”</p>
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<p>“The Pipers.”</p>
<p>“Who? The Pipers? Who are the Pipers?”</p>
<p>There was no answer.</p>
<p>“<abbr>Mr.</abbr> Bradshaw, who are the Pipers?”</p>
<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Bradshaw, who are the Pipers?”</p>
<p>After a long, agonized pause, the heavy lips parted. “They live in the woods.⁠ ⁠…”</p>
<p>Harris snapped off the projector, and the lights came on. He and Cox blinked. “That was all I could get,” Harris said. “But I was lucky to get that. He wasn’t supposed to tell, not at all. That was the thing they all promised not to do, tell who taught them to become plants. The Pipers who live in the woods, on Asteroid Y-3.”</p>
<p>“You got this story from all twenty?”</p>
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<p>A third sphere leaped up the Russian’s leg, clicking and whirring. It jumped to the shoulder. The spinning blades disappeared into the Russian’s throat.</p>
<p>Eric relaxed. “Well, that’s that. God, those damn things give me the creeps. Sometimes I think we were better off before.”</p>
<p>“If we hadn’t invented them, they would have.” Leone lit a cigarette shakily. “I wonder why a Russian would come all this way alone. I didn’t see anyone covering him.”</p>
<p><abbr>Lt.</abbr> Scott came slipping up the tunnel, into the bunker. “What happened? Something entered the screen.”</p>
<p><abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Lt.</abbr> Scott came slipping up the tunnel, into the bunker. “What happened? Something entered the screen.”</p>
<p>“An Ivan.”</p>
<p>“Just one?”</p>
<p>Eric brought the view screen around. Scott peered into it. Now there were numerous metal spheres crawling over the prostrate body, dull metal globes clicking and whirring, sawing up the Russian into small parts to be carried away.</p>
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10 changes: 5 additions & 5 deletions src/epub/text/the-crystal-crypt.xhtml
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<p>“Whiskey and water for me, also,” Erickson said. The robot attendant went off. It returned at once with the drinks, setting them on the table. Each took his own. “Well,” Erickson said, holding his glass up. “To our mutual success.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>All drank, Thacher and the three of them, heavyset Erickson, Mara, her eyes nervous and alert, Jan, who had just come. Again a look passed between Mara and Erickson, a look so swift that he would not have caught it had he not been looking directly at her.</p>
<p>“What line do you represent, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Erickson?” Thacher asked.</p>
<p>“What line do you represent, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Erickson?” Thacher asked.</p>
<p>Erickson glanced at him, then down at the sample case on the floor. He grunted. “Well, as you can see, I’m a salesman.”</p>
<p>Thacher smiled. “I knew it! You get so you can always spot a salesman right off by his sample case. A salesman always has to carry something to show. What are you in, sir?”</p>
<p>Erickson paused. He licked his thick lips, his eyes blank and lidded, like a toad’s. At last he rubbed his mouth with his hand and reached down, lifting up the sample case. He set it on the table in front of him.</p>
<p>“Well?” he said. “Perhaps we might even show <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Thacher.”</p>
<p>“Well?” he said. “Perhaps we might even show <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Thacher.”</p>
<p>They all stared down at the sample case. It seemed to be an ordinary leather case, with a metal handle and a snap lock. “I’m getting curious,” Thacher said. “What’s in there? You’re all so tense. Diamonds? Stolen jewels?”</p>
<p>Jan laughed harshly, mirthlessly. “Erick, put it down. We’re not far enough away, yet.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” Erick rumbled. “We’re away, Jan.”</p>
<p>“Please,” Mara whispered. “Wait, Erick.”</p>
<p>“Wait? Why? What for? You’re so accustomed to⁠—”</p>
<p>“Erick,” Mara said. She nodded toward Thacher. “We don’t know him, Erick. Please!”</p>
<p>“He’s a Terran, isn’t he?” Erickson said. “All Terrans are together in these times.” He fumbled suddenly at the catch lock on the case. “Yes, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Thacher. I’m a salesman. We’re all salesmen, the three of us.”</p>
<p>“He’s a Terran, isn’t he?” Erickson said. “All Terrans are together in these times.” He fumbled suddenly at the catch lock on the case. “Yes, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Thacher. I’m a salesman. We’re all salesmen, the three of us.”</p>
<p>“Then you do know each other.”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Erickson nodded. His two companions sat rigidly, staring down. “Yes, we do. Here, I’ll show you our line.”</p>
<p>He opened the case. From it he took a letter-knife, a pencil sharpener, a glass globe paperweight, a box of thumb tacks, a stapler, some clips, a plastic ashtray, and some things Thacher could not identify. He placed the objects in a row in front of him on the table top. Then he closed the sample case.</p>
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<p>“And why didn’t you speak to each other until we left Deimos?” He leaned toward Erickson, smiling at him. “Two men and a woman. Three of you. Sitting apart in the ship. Not speaking, not until the check-station was past. I find myself thinking over what the Martian said. Three saboteurs. A woman and two men.”</p>
<p>Erickson put the things back in the sample case. He was smiling, but his face had gone chalk white. Mara stared down, playing with a drop of water on the edge of her glass. Jan clenched his hands together nervously, blinking rapidly.</p>
<p>“You three are the ones the Leiter was after,” Thacher said softly. “You are the destroyers, the saboteurs. But their lie detector⁠—Why didn’t it trap you? How did you get by that? And now you’re safe, outside the check-station.” He grinned, staring around at them. “I’ll be damned! And I really thought you were a salesman, Erickson. You really fooled me.”</p>
<p>Erickson relaxed a little. “Well, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Thacher, it’s in a good cause. I’m sure you have no love for Mars, either. No Terran does. And I see you’re leaving with the rest of us.”</p>
<p>Erickson relaxed a little. “Well, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Thacher, it’s in a good cause. I’m sure you have no love for Mars, either. No Terran does. And I see you’re leaving with the rest of us.”</p>
<p>“True,” Thacher said. “You must certainly have an interesting account to give, the three of you.” He looked around the table.</p>
<p>“We still have an hour or so of travel. Sometimes it gets dull, this Mars⁠–⁠Terra run. Nothing to see, nothing to do but sit and drink in the lounge.” He raised his eyes slowly. “Any chance you’d like to spin a story to keep us awake?”</p>
<p>Jan and Mara looked at Erickson. “Go on,” Jan said. “He knows who we are. Tell him the rest of the story.”</p>
<p>“You might as well,” Mara said.</p>
<p>Jan let out a sigh suddenly, a sigh of relief. “Let’s put the cards on the table, get this weight off us. I’m tired of sneaking around, slipping⁠—”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Erickson said expansively. “Why not?” He settled back in his chair, unbuttoning his vest. “Certainly, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Thacher. I’ll be glad to spin you a story. And I’m sure it will be interesting enough to keep you awake.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Erickson said expansively. “Why not?” He settled back in his chair, unbuttoning his vest. “Certainly, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Thacher. I’ll be glad to spin you a story. And I’m sure it will be interesting enough to keep you awake.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>They ran through the groves of dead trees, leaping across the sunbaked Martian soil, running silently together. They went up a little rise, across a narrow ridge. Suddenly Erick stopped, throwing himself down flat on the ground. The others did the same, pressing themselves against the soil, gasping for breath.</p>
<p>“Be silent,” Erick muttered. He raised himself a little. “No noise. There’ll be Leiters nearby, from now on. We don’t dare take any chances.”</p>
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<p>“They’ve been defeated. The Bible is an account of their defeats. They make gains⁠—but finally they’re defeated.”</p>
<p>“Why defeated?”</p>
<p>“They can’t get everyone. They didn’t get me. And they never got the Hebrews. The Hebrews carried the message to the whole world. The realization of the danger. The two men on the bus. I think they understood. Had escaped, like I did.” He clenched his fists. “I killed one of them. I made a mistake. I was afraid to take a chance.”</p>
<p>The Commissioner nodded. “Yes, they undoubtedly had escaped, as you did. Freak accidents. But the rest of the town was firmly in control.” He turned from the window. “Well, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Loyce. You seem to have figured everything out.”</p>
<p>The Commissioner nodded. “Yes, they undoubtedly had escaped, as you did. Freak accidents. But the rest of the town was firmly in control.” He turned from the window. “Well, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Loyce. You seem to have figured everything out.”</p>
<p>“Not everything. The hanging man. The dead man hanging from the lamppost. I don’t understand that. <em>Why?</em> Why did they deliberately hang him there?”</p>
<p>“That would seem simple.” The Commissioner smiled faintly. “<em>Bait.</em>”</p>
<p>Loyce stiffened. His heart stopped beating. “Bait? What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“To draw you out. Make you declare yourself. So they’d know who was under control⁠—and who had escaped.”</p>
<p>Loyce recoiled with horror. “Then they <em>expected</em> failures! They anticipated⁠—” He broke off. “They were ready with a trap.”</p>
<p>“And you showed yourself. You reacted. You made yourself known.” The Commissioner abruptly moved toward the door. “Come along, Loyce. There’s a lot to do. We must get moving. There’s no time to waste.”</p>
<p>Loyce started slowly to his feet, numbed. “And the man. <em>Who was the man?</em> I never saw him before. He wasn’t a local man. He was a stranger. All muddy and dirty, his face cut, slashed⁠—”</p>
<p>There was a strange look on the Commissioner’s face as he answered. “Maybe,” he said softly, “you’ll understand that, too. Come along with me, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Loyce.” He held the door open, his eyes gleaming. Loyce caught a glimpse of the street in front of the police station. Policemen, a platform of some sort. A telephone pole⁠—and a rope! “Right this way,” the Commissioner said, smiling coldly.</p>
<p>There was a strange look on the Commissioner’s face as he answered. “Maybe,” he said softly, “you’ll understand that, too. Come along with me, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Loyce.” He held the door open, his eyes gleaming. Loyce caught a glimpse of the street in front of the police station. Policemen, a platform of some sort. A telephone pole⁠—and a rope! “Right this way,” the Commissioner said, smiling coldly.</p>
<hr/>
<p>As the sun set, the vice-president of the Oak Grove Merchants’ Bank came up out of the vault, threw the heavy time locks, put on his hat and coat, and hurried outside onto the sidewalk. Only a few people were there, hurrying home to dinner.</p>
<p>“Good night,” the guard said, locking the door after him.</p>
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