Death Wish
-The space freighter Queen Dierdre was a great, squat, pockmarked vessel of the Earth-Mars run and she never gave anyone a bit of trouble. That should have been sufficient warning to Mr. Watkins, her engineer. Watkins was fond of saying that there are two kinds of equipment—the kind that fails bit by bit, and the kind that fails all at once.
+The space freighter Queen Dierdre was a great, squat, pockmarked vessel of the Earth-Mars run and she never gave anyone a bit of trouble. That should have been sufficient warning to Mr. Watkins, her engineer. Watkins was fond of saying that there are two kinds of equipment—the kind that fails bit by bit, and the kind that fails all at once.
Watkins was short and red-faced, magnificently mustached, and always a little out of breath. With a cigar in his hand, over a glass of beer, he talked most cynically about his ship, in the immemorial fashion of engineers. But in reality, Watkins was foolishly infatuated with Dierdre, idealized her, humanized her, and couldn’t conceive of anything serious ever happening.
-On this particular run, Dierdre soared away from Terra at the proper speed; Mr. Watkins signaled that fuel was being consumed at the proper rate; and Captain Somers cut the engines at the proper moment indicated by Mr. Rajcik, the navigator.
+On this particular run, Dierdre soared away from Terra at the proper speed; Mr. Watkins signaled that fuel was being consumed at the proper rate; and Captain Somers cut the engines at the proper moment indicated by Mr. Rajcik, the navigator.
As soon as Point Able had been reached and the engines stopped, Somers frowned and studied his complex control board. He was a thin and meticulous man, and he operated his ship with mechanical perfection. He was well liked in the front offices of Mikkelsen Space Lines, where Old Man Mikkelsen pointed to Captain Somers’ reports as models of neatness and efficiency. On Mars, he stayed at the Officers’ Club, eschewing the stews and dives of Marsport. On Earth, he lived in a little Vermont cottage and enjoyed the quiet companionship of two cats, a Japanese houseboy, and a wife.
His instructions read true. And yet he sensed something wrong. Somers knew every creak, rattle and groan that Dierdre was capable of making. During blastoff, he had heard something different. In space, something different had to be wrong.
-“Mr. Rajcik,” he said, turning to his navigator, “would you check the cargo? I believe something may have shifted.”
+“Mr. Rajcik,” he said, turning to his navigator, “would you check the cargo? I believe something may have shifted.”
“You bet,” Rajcik said cheerfully. He was an almost offensively handsome young man with black wavy hair, blasé blue eyes and a cleft chin. Despite his appearance, Rajcik was thoroughly qualified for his position. But he was only one of fifty thousand thoroughly qualified men who lusted for a berth on one of the fourteen spaceships in existence. Only Stephen Rajcik had had the foresight, appearance and fortitude to court and wed Helga, Old Man Mikkelsen’s eldest daughter.
Rajcik went aft to the cargo hold. Dierdre was carrying transistors this time, and microfilm books, platinum filaments, salamis, and other items that could not as yet be produced on Mars. But the bulk of her space was taken by the immense Fahrensen Computer.
Rajcik checked the positioning lines on the monster, examined the stays and turnbuckles that held it in place, and returned to the cabin.
“All in order, Boss,” he reported to Captain Somers, with the smile that only an employer’s son-in-law can both manage and afford.
-“Mr. Watkins, do you read anything?”
+“Mr. Watkins, do you read anything?”
Watkins was at his own instrument panel. “Not a thing, sir. I’ll vouch for every bit of equipment in Dierdre.”
“Very well. How long before we reach Point Baker?”
“Three minutes, Chief,” Rajcik said.
@@ -62,7 +62,7 @@Watkins, his face a mottled red, his mustache bristling, looked like a walrus about to charge. And Rajcik, eyes glittering, was waiting hopefully.
“No more of this,” Somers said. “I give the orders here.”
“Then give some!” Watkins snapped. “Tell him to plot a return curve. This is life or death!”
-“All the more reason for remaining cool. Mr. Rajcik, can you plot such a course?”
+“All the more reason for remaining cool. Mr. Rajcik, can you plot such a course?”
“First thing I tried,” Rajcik said. “Not a chance, on the fuel we have left. We can turn a degree or two, but it won’t help.”
Watkins said, “Of course it will! We’ll curve back into the Solar System!”
“Sure, but the best curve we can make will take a few thousand years for us to complete.”
@@ -82,7 +82,7 @@“Of course I can,” Somers objected, feeling very lightheaded and unreal. “I can pilot any course you lay down. That’s my only real responsibility. Plot us a course to Mars!”
“Sure!” Rajcik said, laughing. “I can! I will! Engineer, I’m going to need plenty of fuel for this course—about ten tons! See that I get it!”
“Right you are,” said Watkins. “Captain, I’d like to put in a requisition for ten tons of fuel.”
-“Requisition granted,” Somers said. “All right, gentlemen, responsibility is inevitably circular. Let’s get a grip on ourselves. Mr. Rajcik, suppose you radio Mars.”
+“Requisition granted,” Somers said. “All right, gentlemen, responsibility is inevitably circular. Let’s get a grip on ourselves. Mr. Rajcik, suppose you radio Mars.”
When contact had been established, Somers took the microphone and stated their situation. The company official at the other end seemed to have trouble grasping it.
“But can’t you turn the ship?” he asked bewilderedly. “Any kind of an orbit—”
“No. I’ve just explained that.”
@@ -114,7 +114,7 @@“That’s ridiculous,” Watkins snorted. “This problem has no solution.”
“It doesn’t seem to,” Somers agreed. “But the big computers have solved other apparently impossible problems. We can’t lose anything by trying.”
“No,” said Rajcik, “as long as we don’t pin any hopes on it.”
-“That’s right. We don’t dare hope. Mr. Watkins, I believe this is your department.”
+“That’s right. We don’t dare hope. Mr. Watkins, I believe this is your department.”
“Oh, what’s the use?” Watkins asked. “You say don’t hope—but both of you are hoping anyhow! You think the big electronic god is going to save your lives. Well, it’s not!”
“We have to try,” Somers told him.
“We don’t! I wouldn’t give it the satisfaction of turning us down!”
diff --git a/src/epub/text/final-examination.xhtml b/src/epub/text/final-examination.xhtml index c4dc30b..99bc2d6 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/final-examination.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/final-examination.xhtml @@ -11,7 +11,7 @@I suppose it started some time back, even before the astronomers discovered it, and certainly long before I found out. How far back I have no idea; thousands of years, perhaps, or more. But the first I knew about it was one March evening, when I opened the newspaper.
Jane was in the kitchen, cleaning up, and I was settled back in the easy chair, reading through the lead articles. I skimmed through all the war talk, price controls, suicides, murders, and then glanced through the rest of the paper. One small article in the back caught my eye.
Astronomers Losing Stars, the caption read. It was a human-interest story I suppose, because it went on in that maddening coy style the newspapers use for that sort of stuff.
-“Dr. Wilhelm Mentzner, at the Mount St. James Observatory, says that he has been unable, in recent weeks, to find some of the Milky Way stars. It would seem, Dr. Mentzner tells us, that they have vanished. Repeated photographs of certain portions of space do not show the presence of these dim, faraway stars. They were in place and intact in photographs made as recently as April, 1942, and …”
+“Dr. Wilhelm Mentzner, at the Mount St. James Observatory, says that he has been unable, in recent weeks, to find some of the Milky Way stars. It would seem, Dr. Mentzner tells us, that they have vanished. Repeated photographs of certain portions of space do not show the presence of these dim, faraway stars. They were in place and intact in photographs made as recently as April, 1942, and …”
The article gave the names of some of the stars—they didn’t mean a thing to me—and chided the scientists on their absentmindedness. “Imagine,” it went on, “losing something as big as a star. Although,” the writer summed up, “it doesn’t really matter. They have a few hundred billion left to play around with.”
I thought it was sort of cute at the time, although in questionable taste. I don’t know a thing about science—I’m in the dress line—but I’ve always looked upon it with the greatest respect. The way I see it, you start laughing at scientists and they come up with something like the atom bomb. Better to treat them with a little respect.
I can’t remember if I showed the article to my wife. If I did, she didn’t say anything in particular.
@@ -31,8 +31,8 @@“Look carefully,” I said. “Watch one section at a time. There was one! Did you see it?”
“No.”
“Watch for little winks,” I said. But it wasn’t until the Thomas kid came from next door and loaned her his telescope that she saw it.
-“Here, Mrs. Ostersen, use this,” the kid said. He had three or four telescopes in his hands, a pair of binoculars, and a handful of charts. Quite a kid.
-“You too, Mr. Ostersen,” he said.
+“Here, Mrs. Ostersen, use this,” the kid said. He had three or four telescopes in his hands, a pair of binoculars, and a handful of charts. Quite a kid.
+“You too, Mr. Ostersen,” he said.
Through the telescope I could really see it. One moment a pinpoint of light would be there, and then—bing! It was gone. It was downright weird. For the first time I started getting worried.
It didn’t bother Jane, though. She went back into her kitchen.
@@ -40,7 +40,7 @@
The newspapers had about a thousand different theories. There were scientific articles on the red shift, and intergalactic dust; there were articles on stellar evolution and visual hallucination; the psychologists were trying to prove that the stars hadn’t been there in the first place, or something like that.
I didn’t know what to believe. The only article that made any sense to me was one written by a social commentator, and he wasn’t even a full-fledged scientist. He said it looked as if someone was doing a big job of housecleaning in our galaxy.
The Thomas kid had his own theories. He was sure it was the work of invaders from another dimension. He told me they were sucking our galaxy into theirs, which was in another dimension, like dust into a vacuum cleaner.
-“It’s perfectly clear, Mr. Ostersen,” he told me one evening after work. “They’ve started sucking in the outside stars at the other side of the Milky Way, and they’re working through the centre. They’ll reach us last, because we’re at the far end.”
+“It’s perfectly clear, Mr. Ostersen,” he told me one evening after work. “They’ve started sucking in the outside stars at the other side of the Milky Way, and they’re working through the centre. They’ll reach us last, because we’re at the far end.”
“Well …” I said.
“After all,” he told me, “Astonishing Yarns and Weird Science Stories practically agree on it, and they’re the leaders in the sci-fic field.”
“But they’re not scientists,” I said.
@@ -77,7 +77,7 @@“Say, pardon me,” some man said to me. “Am I hearing things or did you hear—”
That’s how it was for the next hour. Everyone, it seemed, had heard it. But every woman was sure it had been a woman’s voice, and every man was sure it had been a man’s. I left finally, and went to my store.
Minnie, the salesgirl, and Frank, my stock boy, were already there. They had the radio on, but they were talking over it.
-“Say, Mr. Ostersen,” Frank called as I walked in. “Did you hear it?”
+“Say, Mr. Ostersen,” Frank called as I walked in. “Did you hear it?”
I sat down and discussed it with them, but we couldn’t tell each other much. Frank had been in the store when he heard it. Minnie had just been walking in, her hand on the doorknob. Minnie was sure it was a girl’s voice, about her own age, with just the trace of a Bronx accent. Frank and I held out for a man’s voice, but where I was sure the man was in his early forties or late thirties, Frank was positive it was a young man, about twenty or twenty-two.
We noticed the radio, finally. It had been broadcasting all that time, but we hadn’t paid any attention.
@@ -110,7 +110,7 @@The next day I went in to work, although I don’t know why. I knew that this was It, and everyone else knew it too. But it seemed right to go back to work, end of the world or not. Most of my adult life had been bound up in that store, and I wanted a day more with it. I had some idea of getting my affairs in order, although I knew it couldn’t matter.
The subway ride was murderous. New York is always a crowded city, but it seemed as though the whole United States had moved in. The subways were so tightly jammed the doors couldn’t even close. When I finally got out, the streets were filled from one curb to the other. Traffic had given up, and people were piling out of cars and buses anywhere they were stopped, adding to the jam in the streets.
In the store, Frank and Minnie were already there. I guess they had the same idea—about gathering up loose ends.
-“Gee, Mr. Ostersen,” Frank said. “What do you think He’ll do—about our sins, I mean?” Frank was twenty-one, and I couldn’t see how he could have committed an unusual number of sins. But he was worried about them. The way he frowned and paced around, he might have been the devil himself.
+“Gee, Mr. Ostersen,” Frank said. “What do you think He’ll do—about our sins, I mean?” Frank was twenty-one, and I couldn’t see how he could have committed an unusual number of sins. But he was worried about them. The way he frowned and paced around, he might have been the devil himself.
Minnie didn’t have any sins on her mind, as far as I could see. She was wearing what must have been her best dress—she hadn’t bought it in my store—and her hair was a lighter brown than it had been yesterday. I suspected she wanted to look her best in front of the Almighty, be He man or woman.
We talked about sins most of the morning, and listened to the radio. The radio had a lot to say about sins, but no two speakers agreed.
Around lunchtime, Ollie Bernstein dropped in.
@@ -132,10 +132,10 @@The next day I brought my wife into the city. With three days left to go, two really because you couldn’t count the Day itself, we figured we’d move into a good hotel, buy an armload of classical records and have our own private, quiet celebration. I thought we deserved it, although I could have been wrong.
Frank was already at the store when we got there. He was all dressed up, and he had a suitcase with him.
“What’s up, Frank?” I asked.
-“Well, Mr. Ostersen,” he said, “with only two days left, I’m going to go on my first airplane trip. I’m flying to Texas.”
+“Well, Mr. Ostersen,” he said, “with only two days left, I’m going to go on my first airplane trip. I’m flying to Texas.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“Yessir,” Frank said. He shuffled his feet, as if he knew he was doing something foolish. But his face was set. He was waiting for me to tell him not to go.
-“I’m going out where I can ride a horse. Mr. Ostersen, I’ve always dreamed of going to Texas and riding a horse. It isn’t just the horses, I want the airplane ride too, and I want to see what all that land looks like. I was figuring on doing it this summer, on my vacation, but now—well, I’m going.”
+“I’m going out where I can ride a horse. Mr. Ostersen, I’ve always dreamed of going to Texas and riding a horse. It isn’t just the horses, I want the airplane ride too, and I want to see what all that land looks like. I was figuring on doing it this summer, on my vacation, but now—well, I’m going.”
I walked to the back of the store and opened the safe. I had four thousand dollars there; the rest was in the bank. I came back and handed Frank two thousand.
“Here, kid,” I said. “Buy a horse for me.” He just stared at me for a second, then dashed out. There wasn’t much to say. Besides, it was an easy gesture. The stuff was as good as worthless. Might as well see the other fellow have a good time.
For once my wife seemed to agree with me. She smiled.
diff --git a/src/epub/text/forever.xhtml b/src/epub/text/forever.xhtml index 276a5e9..4773a71 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/forever.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/forever.xhtml @@ -77,28 +77,28 @@The hearses stopped, and somber-faced, respectable-looking men in black suits and pearl-gray neckties poured out and seized him. The briefcase was yanked out of his hand. He felt the prick of a needle in his shoulder. Then, with no transitional dizziness, he passed out.
He came to sitting in an armchair. There were armed men on either side of him. In front of him stood a small, plump, undistinguished-looking man in sedate clothing.
-“My name is Mr. Bennet,” the plump man said. “I wish to beg your forgiveness, Mr. Dennison, for the violence to which you were subjected. We found out about your invention only at the last moment and therefore had to improvise. The bullets were meant only to frighten and delay you. Murder was not our intention.”
+“My name is Mr. Bennet,” the plump man said. “I wish to beg your forgiveness, Mr. Dennison, for the violence to which you were subjected. We found out about your invention only at the last moment and therefore had to improvise. The bullets were meant only to frighten and delay you. Murder was not our intention.”
“You merely wanted to steal my discovery,” Dennison said.
-“Not at all,” Mr. Bennet told him. “The secret of immortality has been in our possession for quite some time.”
+“Not at all,” Mr. Bennet told him. “The secret of immortality has been in our possession for quite some time.”
“I see. Then you want to keep immortality from the public in order to safeguard your damned undertaking business!”
-“Isn’t that rather a naive view?” Mr. Bennet asked, smiling. “As it happens, my associates and I are not undertakers. We took on the disguise in order to present an understandable motive if our plan to capture you had misfired. In that event, others would have believed exactly—and only—what you thought: that our purpose was to safeguard our business.”
+“Isn’t that rather a naive view?” Mr. Bennet asked, smiling. “As it happens, my associates and I are not undertakers. We took on the disguise in order to present an understandable motive if our plan to capture you had misfired. In that event, others would have believed exactly—and only—what you thought: that our purpose was to safeguard our business.”
Dennison frowned and watchfully waited.
-“Disguises come easily to us,” Mr. Bennet said, still smiling. “Perhaps you have heard rumors about a new carburetor suppressed by the gasoline companies, or a new food source concealed by the great food suppliers, or a new synthetic hastily destroyed by the cotton-owning interests. That was us. And the inventions ended up here.”
+“Disguises come easily to us,” Mr. Bennet said, still smiling. “Perhaps you have heard rumors about a new carburetor suppressed by the gasoline companies, or a new food source concealed by the great food suppliers, or a new synthetic hastily destroyed by the cotton-owning interests. That was us. And the inventions ended up here.”
“You’re trying to impress me,” Dennison said.
“Certainly.”
“Why did you stop me from patenting my immortality serum?”
-“The world is not ready for it yet,” said Mr. Bennet.
+“The world is not ready for it yet,” said Mr. Bennet.
“It isn’t ready for a lot of things,” Dennison said. “Why didn’t you block the atom bomb?”
“We tried, disguised as mercenary coal and oil interests. But we failed. However, we have succeeded with a surprising number of things.”
“But what’s the purpose behind it all?”
-“Earth’s welfare,” Mr. Bennet said promptly. “Consider what would happen if the people were given your veritable immortality serum. The problems of birth rate, food production, living space all would be aggravated. Tensions would mount, war would be imminent—”
+“Earth’s welfare,” Mr. Bennet said promptly. “Consider what would happen if the people were given your veritable immortality serum. The problems of birth rate, food production, living space all would be aggravated. Tensions would mount, war would be imminent—”
“So what?” Dennison challenged. “That’s how things are right now, without immortality. Besides, there have been cries of doom about every new invention or discovery. Gunpowder, the printing press, nitroglycerin, the atom bomb, they were all supposed to destroy the race. But mankind has learned how to handle them. It had to! You can’t turn back the clock, and you can’t un-discover something. If it’s there, mankind must deal with it!”
-“Yes, in a bumbling, bloody, inefficient fashion,” said Mr. Bennet, with an expression of distaste.
+“Yes, in a bumbling, bloody, inefficient fashion,” said Mr. Bennet, with an expression of distaste.
“Well, that’s how Man is.”
-“Not if he’s properly led,” Mr. Bennet said.
+“Not if he’s properly led,” Mr. Bennet said.
“No?”
-
“Certainly not,” said Mr. Bennet. “You see, the immortality serum provides a solution to the problem of political power. Rule by a permanent and enlightened elite is by far the best form of government; infinitely better than the blundering inefficiencies of democratic rule. But throughout history, this elite, whether monarchy, oligarchy, dictatorship or junta, has been unable to perpetuate itself. Leaders die, the followers squabble for power, and chaos is close behind. With immortality, this last flaw would be corrected. There would be no discontinuity of leadership, for the leaders would always be there.”
+“Certainly not,” said Mr. Bennet. “You see, the immortality serum provides a solution to the problem of political power. Rule by a permanent and enlightened elite is by far the best form of government; infinitely better than the blundering inefficiencies of democratic rule. But throughout history, this elite, whether monarchy, oligarchy, dictatorship or junta, has been unable to perpetuate itself. Leaders die, the followers squabble for power, and chaos is close behind. With immortality, this last flaw would be corrected. There would be no discontinuity of leadership, for the leaders would always be there.”
“A permanent dictatorship,” Dennison said.
“Yes. A permanent, benevolent rule by small, carefully chosen elite corps, based upon the sole and exclusive possession of immortality. It’s historically inevitable. The only question is, who is going to get control first?”
“And you think you are?” Dennison demanded.
@@ -108,9 +108,9 @@“Count me out,” Dennison said, his heart beating fast.
“You won’t join us?”
“I’d like to see you all hanged.”
-Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully and pursed his small lips. “You have taken your own serum, have you not?”
+Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully and pursed his small lips. “You have taken your own serum, have you not?”
Dennison nodded. “I suppose that means you kill me now?”
-“We don’t kill,” Mr. Bennet said. “We merely wait. I think you are a reasonable man, and I think you’ll come to see things our way. We’ll be around a long time. So will you. Take him away.”
+“We don’t kill,” Mr. Bennet said. “We merely wait. I think you are a reasonable man, and I think you’ll come to see things our way. We’ll be around a long time. So will you. Take him away.”
Dennison was led to an elevator that dropped deep into the Earth. He was marched down a long passageway lined with armed men. They went through four massive doors. At the fifth, Dennison was pushed inside alone, and the door was locked behind him.
He was in a large, well-furnished apartment. There were perhaps twenty people in the room, and they came forward to meet him.
One of them, a stocky, bearded man, was an old college acquaintance of Dennison’s.
diff --git a/src/epub/text/meeting-of-the-minds.xhtml b/src/epub/text/meeting-of-the-minds.xhtml index 8725eac..d5175c6 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/meeting-of-the-minds.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/meeting-of-the-minds.xhtml @@ -112,7 +112,7 @@He was very tall and thin, with knobby knees and elbows. The fierce Melanesian sun had burned out but not tanned him, and his nose and cheekbones were peeling. His horn-rimmed glasses had broken at the hinge and been repaired with a piece of tape. He looked eager, boyish, and curiously naive.
One hell-of-a-looking treasure-hunter, the mate thought.
“Glad to see you!” the man called out. “We’d about given you up for lost.”
-“Not likely,” the skipper said. “Mr. Sorensen, I’d like you to meet my new mate, Mr. Willis.”
+“Not likely,” the skipper said. “Mr. Sorensen, I’d like you to meet my new mate, Mr. Willis.”
“Glad to meet you, Professor,” the mate said.
“I’m not a professor,” Sorensen said, “but thanks anyhow.”
“Where are the others?” the skipper asked.
@@ -315,7 +315,7 @@“OK,” he said. “Let’s go.”
They rowed to the beach. Sorensen was trying to reestablish contact with Eakins on the walkie-talkie, but all he could hear was static. Then, as the launch grounded on the beach, he heard Eakins’ voice.
-“I’m surrounded,” he said, very quietly. “I guess I’ll have to see what Mr. Bug wants. Maybe I can swat him first, though.”
+“I’m surrounded,” he said, very quietly. “I guess I’ll have to see what Mr. Bug wants. Maybe I can swat him first, though.”
There was a long silence. Then Eakins said, “It’s coming toward me now. Drake was right. It sure isn’t like any bug I’ve ever seen. I’m going to swat hell out of—”
They heard him scream, more in surprise than pain.
Sorensen said, “Eakins, can you hear me? Where are you? Can we help?”
diff --git a/src/epub/text/prospectors-special.xhtml b/src/epub/text/prospectors-special.xhtml index 7e6671f..1b5a6d2 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/prospectors-special.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/prospectors-special.xhtml @@ -46,7 +46,7 @@He turned the telephone so that Eddie could see the tires.
“Unrepairable,” said Eddie.
“I thought so. And I used up all my spares crossing Devil’s Grill. Look, Eddie, I’d like you to ’port me a couple of tires. Retreads are fine. I can’t move the sandcar without them.”
-“Sure,” Eddie said, “except I haven’t any retreads. I’ll have to ’port you new ones at five hundred apiece. Plus four hundred dollars ’porting charges. Fourteen hundred dollars, Mr. Morrison.”
+“Sure,” Eddie said, “except I haven’t any retreads. I’ll have to ’port you new ones at five hundred apiece. Plus four hundred dollars ’porting charges. Fourteen hundred dollars, Mr. Morrison.”
“All right.”
“Yes, sir. Now if you’ll show me the cash, or a money order which you can send back with the receipt, I’ll get moving on it.”
“At the moment,” Morrison said, “I haven’t got a cent on me.”
@@ -54,12 +54,12 @@“Stripped clean.”
“Bonds? Property? Anything you can convert into cash?”
“Nothing except this sandcar, which you sold me for eight thousand dollars. When I come back, I’ll settle my bill with the sandcar.”
-“If you get back. Sorry, Mr. Morrison. No can do.”
+“If you get back. Sorry, Mr. Morrison. No can do.”
“What do you mean?” Morrison asked. “You know I’ll pay for the tires.”
“And you know the rules on Venus,” Eddie said, his mournful face set in obstinate lines. “No credit! Cash and carry!”
“I can’t run the sandcar without tires,” Morrison said. “Are you going to strand me out here?”
-“Who in hell is stranding you?” Eddie asked. “This sort of thing happens to prospectors every day. You know what you have to do now, Mr. Morrison. Call Public Utility and declare yourself a bankrupt. Sign over what’s left of the sandcar, equipment, and anything you’ve found on the way. They’ll get you out.”
+“Who in hell is stranding you?” Eddie asked. “This sort of thing happens to prospectors every day. You know what you have to do now, Mr. Morrison. Call Public Utility and declare yourself a bankrupt. Sign over what’s left of the sandcar, equipment, and anything you’ve found on the way. They’ll get you out.”
“I’m not turning back,” Morrison said. “Look!” He held the telephone close to the ground. “You see the traces, Eddie? See those red and purple flecks? There’s precious stuff near here!”
“Every prospector sees traces,” Eddie said. “Damned desert is full of traces.”
“These are rich,” Morrison said. “These are leading straight to big stuff, a bonanza lode. Eddie, I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you could stake me to a couple of tires—”
@@ -85,7 +85,7 @@“Oh, it’s you,” Morrison said.
“Yes, sir,” the robot said, now completely clear of the field. “Williams 4 at your service with the Venus Mail.”
It was a robot of medium height, thin-shanked and flat-footed, humanoid in appearance, amiable in disposition. For twenty-three years it had been Venus’s entire postal service—sorter, deliverer, and dead storage. It had been built to last, and for twenty-three years the mails had always come through.
-“Here we are, Mr. Morrison,” Williams 4 said. “Only twice-a-month mail call in the desert, I’m sorry to say, but it comes promptly and that’s a blessing. This is for you. And this. I think there’s one more. Sandcar broke down, eh?”
+“Here we are, Mr. Morrison,” Williams 4 said. “Only twice-a-month mail call in the desert, I’m sorry to say, but it comes promptly and that’s a blessing. This is for you. And this. I think there’s one more. Sandcar broke down, eh?”
“It sure did,” Morrison said, taking his letters.
Williams 4 went on rummaging through its bag. Although it was a superbly efficient postman, the old robot was known as the worst gossip on three planets.
“There’s one more in here somewhere,” Williams 4 said. “Too bad about the sandcar. They just don’t build ’em like they did in my youth. Take my advice, young man. Turn back if you still have the chance.”
@@ -125,15 +125,15 @@“What’s the matter?” Morrison asked.
His video screen went blank. Then it cleared, and Morrison found himself staring into a man’s narrow face. The man was seated in front of a large desk. The sign in front of him read Milton P. Reade, Vice President, Accounts.
-
“Mr. Morrison,” Reade said, “your account is overdrawn. You have been obtaining water under false pretenses. That is a criminal offense.”
+“Mr. Morrison,” Reade said, “your account is overdrawn. You have been obtaining water under false pretenses. That is a criminal offense.”
“I’m going to pay for the water,” Morrison said.
“When?”
“As soon as I get back to Venusborg.”
-“With what,” asked Mr. Reade, “do you propose to pay?”
-“With goldenstone,” Morrison said. “Look around here, Mr. Reade. The traces are rich! Richer than they were for the Kirk claim! I’ll be hitting the outcroppings in another day—”
-“That’s what every prospector thinks,” Mr. Reade said. “Every prospector on Venus is only a day from goldenstone. And they all expect credit from Public Utility.”
+“With what,” asked Mr. Reade, “do you propose to pay?”
+“With goldenstone,” Morrison said. “Look around here, Mr. Reade. The traces are rich! Richer than they were for the Kirk claim! I’ll be hitting the outcroppings in another day—”
+“That’s what every prospector thinks,” Mr. Reade said. “Every prospector on Venus is only a day from goldenstone. And they all expect credit from Public Utility.”
“But in this case—”
-“Public Utility,” Mr. Reade continued inexorably, “is not a philanthropic organization. Its charter specifically forbids the extension of credit. Venus is a frontier, Mr. Morrison, a farflung frontier. Every manufactured article on Venus must be imported from Earth at outrageous cost. We do have our own water, but locating it, purifying it, then ’porting it is an expensive process. This company, like every other company on Venus, necessarily operates on a very narrow margin of profit, which is invariably plowed back into further expansion. That is why there can be no credit on Venus.”
+“Public Utility,” Mr. Reade continued inexorably, “is not a philanthropic organization. Its charter specifically forbids the extension of credit. Venus is a frontier, Mr. Morrison, a farflung frontier. Every manufactured article on Venus must be imported from Earth at outrageous cost. We do have our own water, but locating it, purifying it, then ’porting it is an expensive process. This company, like every other company on Venus, necessarily operates on a very narrow margin of profit, which is invariably plowed back into further expansion. That is why there can be no credit on Venus.”
“I know all that,” Morrison said. “But I’m telling you, I only need a day or two more—”
“Absolutely impossible. By the rules, we shouldn’t even help you out now. The time to report bankruptcy was a week ago, when your sandcar broke down. Your garage man reported, as required by law. But you didn’t. We would be within our rights to leave you stranded. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, of course,” Morrison said wearily.
@@ -224,21 +224,21 @@“Huh?”
“My name is Boyard,” the man said.
The video screen cleared, and Morrison saw a thin, sallow-faced man with a hairline mustache.
-“I’m sorry, Mr. Boyard,” Morrison said. “I must have gotten the wrong number. I was calling—”
-“It doesn’t matter who you were calling,” Mr. Boyard said. “I am District Supervisor of the Venus Telephone Company. Your bill is two months overdue.”
+“I’m sorry, Mr. Boyard,” Morrison said. “I must have gotten the wrong number. I was calling—”
+“It doesn’t matter who you were calling,” Mr. Boyard said. “I am District Supervisor of the Venus Telephone Company. Your bill is two months overdue.”
“I can pay it now,” Morrison said, grinning.
-“Excellent,” said Mr. Boyard. “As soon as you do, your service will be resumed.”
+“Excellent,” said Mr. Boyard. “As soon as you do, your service will be resumed.”
The screen began to fade.
“Wait!” Morrison cried. “I can pay as soon as I reach your office. But I must make one telephone call. Just one call, so that I—”
-“Not a chance,” Mr. Boyard said decisively. “After you have paid your bill, your service will be turned on immediately.”
+“Not a chance,” Mr. Boyard said decisively. “After you have paid your bill, your service will be turned on immediately.”
“I’ve got the money right here!” Morrison said. “Right here in my hand!”
-Mr. Boyard paused. “Well, it’s unusual, but I suppose we could arrange for a special robot messenger if you are willing to pay the expenses.”
+Mr. Boyard paused. “Well, it’s unusual, but I suppose we could arrange for a special robot messenger if you are willing to pay the expenses.”
“I am!”
“Hm. It’s irregular, but I daresay we … Where is the money?”
“Right here,” Morrison said. “You recognize it, don’t you? It’s goldenstone!”
“I am sick and tired of the tricks you prospectors think you can put over on us. Holding up a handful of pebbles—”
“But this is really goldenstone! Can’t you see it?”
-“I am a businessman,” Mr. Boyard said, “not a jeweler. I wouldn’t know goldenstone from goldenrod.”
+“I am a businessman,” Mr. Boyard said, “not a jeweler. I wouldn’t know goldenstone from goldenrod.”
The video screen went blank.
Frantically, Morrison tried to reach the operator. There was nothing, not even a dial tone. His telephone was disconnected.
@@ -285,7 +285,7 @@“I don’t have it.”
“I am very sorry.” Williams 4 turned to go.
“You can’t just go and let me die!”
-“I can and must,” Williams 4 said sadly. “I am only a robot, Mr. Morrison. I was made by men, and naturally I partake of some of their sensibilities. That’s as it should be. But I also have my limits, which, in their nature, are similar to the limits most humans have on this harsh planet. And, unlike humans, I cannot transcend my limits.”
+“I can and must,” Williams 4 said sadly. “I am only a robot, Mr. Morrison. I was made by men, and naturally I partake of some of their sensibilities. That’s as it should be. But I also have my limits, which, in their nature, are similar to the limits most humans have on this harsh planet. And, unlike humans, I cannot transcend my limits.”
The robot started to climb into the whirlpool. Morrison stared at him blankly, and saw beyond him the waiting wolfpack. He saw the soft glow of several million dollars’ worth of goldenstone shining from the ravine’s walls.
Something snapped inside him.
@@ -303,7 +303,7 @@
“Also,” the robot said hastily, “you would be destroying government property. That is a serious offense.”
Morrison laughed and swung the pistol. The robot moved its head quickly, dodging the blow. It tried to wriggle free, but Morrison’s two hundred pounds was seated firmly on its thorax.
“I won’t miss this time,” Morrison promised, hefting the revolver.
-“Stop!” Williams 4 said. “It is my duty to protect government property, even if that property happens to be myself. You may use my telephone, Mr. Morrison. Bear in mind that this offense is punishable by a sentence of not more than ten and not less than five years in the Solar Swamp Penitentiary.”
+“Stop!” Williams 4 said. “It is my duty to protect government property, even if that property happens to be myself. You may use my telephone, Mr. Morrison. Bear in mind that this offense is punishable by a sentence of not more than ten and not less than five years in the Solar Swamp Penitentiary.”
“Let’s have that telephone,” Morrison said.
The robot’s chest opened and a small telephone extruded. Morrison dialed Max Krandall and explained the situation.
@@ -319,7 +319,7 @@“And if it isn’t?”
“Perhaps we better not talk about that,” Krandall said. “I’ll get right to work on this, Tommy. Good luck!”
Morrison signed off. He stood up and helped the robot to its feet.
-“In twenty-three years of service,” Williams 4 said, “this is the first time anybody has threatened the life of a government postal employee. I must report this to the police authorities at Venusborg, Mr. Morrison. I have no choice.”
+“In twenty-three years of service,” Williams 4 said, “this is the first time anybody has threatened the life of a government postal employee. I must report this to the police authorities at Venusborg, Mr. Morrison. I have no choice.”
“I know,” Morrison said. “But I guess five or ten years in the penitentiary is better than dying.”
“I doubt it. I carry mail there, you know. You will have the opportunity of seeing for yourself in about six months.”
“What?” said Morrison, stunned.
diff --git a/src/epub/text/watchbird.xhtml b/src/epub/text/watchbird.xhtml index 0ea3561..95c88a2 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/watchbird.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/watchbird.xhtml @@ -35,10 +35,10 @@“I have an objection.” Gelsen stood up. His colleagues were glaring coldly at him. Obviously he was delaying the advent of the golden age.
“What is your objection?” the representative asked.
“First, let me say that I am one hundred percent in favor of a machine to stop murder. It’s been needed for a long time. I object only to the watchbird’s learning circuits. They serve, in effect, to animate the machine and give it a pseudo-consciousness. I can’t approve of that.”
-“But, Mr. Gelsen, you yourself testified that the watchbird would not be completely efficient unless such circuits were introduced. Without them, the watchbirds could stop only an estimated seventy percent of murders.”
+“But, Mr. Gelsen, you yourself testified that the watchbird would not be completely efficient unless such circuits were introduced. Without them, the watchbirds could stop only an estimated seventy percent of murders.”
“I know that,” Gelsen said, feeling extremely uncomfortable. “I believe there might be a moral danger in allowing a machine to make decisions that are rightfully Man’s,” he declared doggedly.
“Oh, come now, Gelsen,” one of the corporation presidents said. “It’s nothing of the sort. The watchbird will only reinforce the decisions made by honest men from the beginning of time.”
-“I think that is true,” the representative agreed. “But I can understand how Mr. Gelsen feels. It is sad that we must put a human problem into the hands of a machine, sadder still that we must have a machine enforce our laws. But I ask you to remember, Mr. Gelsen, that there is no other possible way of stopping a murderer before he strikes. It would be unfair to the many innocent people killed every year if we were to restrict watchbird on philosophical grounds. Don’t you agree that I’m right?”
+“I think that is true,” the representative agreed. “But I can understand how Mr. Gelsen feels. It is sad that we must put a human problem into the hands of a machine, sadder still that we must have a machine enforce our laws. But I ask you to remember, Mr. Gelsen, that there is no other possible way of stopping a murderer before he strikes. It would be unfair to the many innocent people killed every year if we were to restrict watchbird on philosophical grounds. Don’t you agree that I’m right?”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” Gelsen said unhappily. He had told himself all that a thousand times, but something still bothered him. Perhaps he would talk it over with Macintyre.
As the conference broke up, a thought struck him. He grinned.
A lot of policemen were going to be out of work!
@@ -332,7 +332,7 @@“Of course it will work. But I’m afraid the cure will be worse than the disease.”
The manufacturers looked as though they would have enjoyed throttling Gelsen. He didn’t hesitate.
“Haven’t we learned yet?” he asked. “Don’t you see that you can’t cure human problems by mechanization?”
-“Mr. Gelsen,” the president of Monroe said, “I would enjoy hearing you philosophize, but, unfortunately, people are being killed. Crops are being ruined. There is famine in some sections of the country already. The watchbirds must be stopped at once!”
+“Mr. Gelsen,” the president of Monroe said, “I would enjoy hearing you philosophize, but, unfortunately, people are being killed. Crops are being ruined. There is famine in some sections of the country already. The watchbirds must be stopped at once!”
“Murder must be stopped, too. I remember all of us agreeing upon that. But this is not the way!”
“What would you suggest?” the representative asked.
@@ -340,7 +340,7 @@
“Let the watchbirds run down by themselves,” Gelsen suggested.
There was a near-riot. The government representative broke it up.
“Let’s take our lesson,” Gelsen urged, “admit that we were wrong trying to cure human problems by mechanical means. Start again. Use machines, yes, but not as judges and teachers and fathers.”
-“Ridiculous,” the representative said coldly. “Mr. Gelsen, you are overwrought. I suggest you control yourself.” He cleared his throat. “All of you are ordered by the President to carry out the plan you have submitted.” He looked sharply at Gelsen. “Not to do so will be treason.”
+“Ridiculous,” the representative said coldly. “Mr. Gelsen, you are overwrought. I suggest you control yourself.” He cleared his throat. “All of you are ordered by the President to carry out the plan you have submitted.” He looked sharply at Gelsen. “Not to do so will be treason.”
“I’ll cooperate to the best of my ability,” Gelsen said.
“Good. Those assembly lines must be rolling within the week.”
Gelsen walked out of the room alone. Now he was confused again. Had he been right or was he just another visionary? Certainly, he hadn’t explained himself with much clarity.