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old man knew what he was talking about. "Whydon't you try to put your information where it'll do some good? Howabout the Captain?"
"He's coocoo." The old man slapped the cover back on the periscope,tottered back to his perch on the platform. "He sure has changed thelast two years. Won't listen to reason."
Gene squatted on the steps, just beneath the old engineer's chair. Theold man seemed glad to have someone to talk to.
"It's got us trapped. And it's so well covered up from the people. Oldspacers are changed physically, changed mentally. They know they can'tgo back to normal life, because it's gone too far. They'd be freaks. Nowoman would want a monstrosity around. Besides, it don't stop, evenafter you leave the ships. God knows what we'll look like in the end."
Gene shivered. "But you're all grown men! A fight with no chance ofwinning is better than this! Why do you take it?"
"Because the mind changes along with the body. It goes dead in someways, gets more active in others. The personality shifts inside, untilyou're not sure of yourself, and can't make decisions any more. That'swhy nobody does anything. Something about those rays destroys the will.Nobody leaves the ships."
"I will!" Gene said confidently. "When the time comes, I'll go. All Hellcan't stop me."
The old man yawned. "Hope you do, son. Hope you do. I'm going to take mea nap." He propped his feet up on the platform rail and in seconds wassnoring.
Gene clenched his fists, growing despair in his thoughts.
"Tain't no worse than dying in a war," muttered the old man in hissleep.
* * * * *
The days went by and Gene learned. He understood why these men didn'tactively resent the deal they were getting. No wonder the secrecy was soeffective! The radiations deadened the mind, gave one the feeling ofnumbness, so that nothing mattered but the next meal, the next movie inthe recreation lounge, the next drink of water. Values changed andshifted, and none of them seemed important.
The chains that began to bind him were far stronger than steel. Thechains were mental deterioration, degeneration, mutation within the verycells of the mind. He knew that now he must tend this monster forever,grease and wipe the ugly metal of it, and sit and talk idly toMacNamara, its keeper. He realized it, and didn't know how to care!
The anger and hate came later. The real, abiding anger, and the livinghate. At first the numbness, the sudden incomprehensible enormity ofwhat had happened to him, then the anger. Hate churned and ground awayinside him, getting stronger by the hour. It all revolved around theCaptain who tramped eternally around the corridors bellowing orders,punching with his huge fists. He knew there was more to it; the lyingowners of the Company, the bribe-taking officials, the health officerswho failed to examine the ships and the men and the ships' papers. Butsomehow it all boiled down to the Captain.
Sometimes he was sure he must be crazy already. Sometimes he would wakeup screaming from a nightmare only to find reality more horrible.
Then he would go to Ann.
Ann was not the only woman aboard ship. There were three others, and tothe crew of twenty imprisoned, enslaved men they represented all beauty,all womanhood. They lived with the men--as the men--and nobody cared.Here, so close to the raging elementals of the pile, life itself waselemental.
As one of them expressed it to Gene: "Why worry? We're all sterile fromthe radioactivity anyway. Or didn't you know?" She had been on the shipfor years, and was covered with a fine fur, like a cat's. Her eyes werewide, placid, empty; an animal's unthinking eyes. Gene prayed Ann wouldnever turn monster before his eyes; hoped desperately they could getaway in time.
"We've got to fight, Ann," he said to her one day. "We must find a wayto get off at the end of the trip, or it will be too late for us to livenormal lives. It's then or never. Besides that, we've got to warn peopleof what's going on. They think space travel is safe. In time this couldeffect the whole race. The world must be told, so something can bedone."
Ann's young face showed signs of the strain. The fear of turning intosome hideous thing was preying on her mind. She spoke rapidly, her voicebreaking a little. "I've been talking to several of the crew, theold-timers, trying to get an understanding of why nothing is done. It'sthis way: when the ships land, guards come aboard. They're posted at thecargo locks and the passenger entrances. The only door aboard the shipthat leads to the passenger compartment is in the Captain's cabin, andit's locked from both sides. Even our Captain never meets thepassengers. There's only one chance, a mutiny. Then we could open thedoor, show the passengers."
"It wouldn't do any good. When we landed, they'd find a way to shut usall up before we got to anybody. They've had a lot of practice keepingthis quiet. They know the answers."
She stamped a foot angrily. "It was you who said we had to fight! Nowyou say it's hopeless!"
Gene leaned against the wall and passed a hand across his eyes. Helooked at Ann's flushed beauty and managed a grin. "Guess I'm getting asbad as the rest of them, baby. We'll fight. Sure we'll fight."
* * * * *
It started with Schwenky. Schwenky was a gigantic Swede. He was the bossfreight handler. It was his job to sort the cargo for the next port ofcall. He would get it into the cargo lock, then seal the doors so nobodywould try to smuggle themselves out with the freight. Schwenky wasintensely loyal and stupid enough not to understand the real reasonbehind their imprisonment--which was why he held his job. No one got bySchwenky.
But this time, in Marsport, something was missing. They'd driven thetrucks up to the cargo port, unloaded everything, and then comparedinvoices with the material. They swore some claimed machinery parts weredue them. Schwenky swore he'd placed them in the cargo lock, and thatthe truckers were trying to hold up the Company.
The Captain allowed the truckers claim and after the ship had blastedoff into space, called Schwenky in to bawl him out. They must havegotten really steamed up, because Gene and Frank Maher heard the racketclear down on the next deck where they were cleaning freight out of asealed compartment for the next stop.
Gene and Frank raced up the ladders to the top deck, and Gene found thebreak he had prayed for. Schwenky holding the Captain against the wall;beating the monstrosity that had once been a man with terrible fists.Gene felt a sudden thrill. In a situation like this you used any weaponyou could find. Schwenky was a deadly weapon.
Gene laid a hand on Schwenky's massive shoulder. "Hold it man! You'llkill him!"
Schwenky turned a face, red and popeyed, to Gene. "The Captain make amistake. He try to knock Schwenky down. No man do that to Schwenky."
"When he comes to, he'll lock you in the brig, put you on bread andwater...."
Suddenly Schwenky realized the enormity of his offense. It was obviousfrom his face that he considered himself already dead. "Nah, my friendGene! Now they kill Schwenky. Bad! But what I do?"
Gene eyed him carefully. "Put the Captain in the brig, of course. Whatelse? Then he _can't_ kill you."
"Lock him up, eh? Good idea! Then we think, you and I, what we do next.Maybe something come to us, eh?"
Gene bent over the Captain's body, found the pistol in his hip pocket,put it in his own. He took the ring of keys from the belt.
"Bring him along, Schwenky. If we meet anyone, I'll use this." Genepatted the gun. "I won't let them hurt my friend, Schwenky."
"Damn! let them come! I fix them! Don't have to shoot them. I gotfists!"
"I'd rather be shot, myself," said Gene, watching the ease with whichthe giant freight handler lifted the huge body of the Captain, tossingit over his shoulder like a sack of straw.
"I'll go ahead," said Frank Maher. "If I run into Perkins, the First,I'll whistle once. If I run into Symonds, the Second, I'll whistletwice. I don't think there's another soul aboard we need worry about.All we got to do is slap the Cap in the brig, round up Perkins andSymonds, and the ship is ours. What worries me, Gene, then what do wedo?"
"It's Schwenky's mutiny," grinned Gene. "Ask him.
"
"Nah!" said Schwenky hastily. "I don' know. Maybe we just sail on tillwe find good place, leave ship, go look for job."
Maher said, "Me with my lumpy face? And the Chief with hair on hischeekbones and double eyeballs? And Heinie with fingernails growingwhere his collar button should be? I wonder what we _can_ do, if we getfree?"
* * * * *
They got down the first stairwell, but passing along the rather lengthycompanionway to the next stairhead, they heard Maher whistle
"He's coocoo." The old man slapped the cover back on the periscope,tottered back to his perch on the platform. "He sure has changed thelast two years. Won't listen to reason."
Gene squatted on the steps, just beneath the old engineer's chair. Theold man seemed glad to have someone to talk to.
"It's got us trapped. And it's so well covered up from the people. Oldspacers are changed physically, changed mentally. They know they can'tgo back to normal life, because it's gone too far. They'd be freaks. Nowoman would want a monstrosity around. Besides, it don't stop, evenafter you leave the ships. God knows what we'll look like in the end."
Gene shivered. "But you're all grown men! A fight with no chance ofwinning is better than this! Why do you take it?"
"Because the mind changes along with the body. It goes dead in someways, gets more active in others. The personality shifts inside, untilyou're not sure of yourself, and can't make decisions any more. That'swhy nobody does anything. Something about those rays destroys the will.Nobody leaves the ships."
"I will!" Gene said confidently. "When the time comes, I'll go. All Hellcan't stop me."
The old man yawned. "Hope you do, son. Hope you do. I'm going to take mea nap." He propped his feet up on the platform rail and in seconds wassnoring.
Gene clenched his fists, growing despair in his thoughts.
"Tain't no worse than dying in a war," muttered the old man in hissleep.
* * * * *
The days went by and Gene learned. He understood why these men didn'tactively resent the deal they were getting. No wonder the secrecy was soeffective! The radiations deadened the mind, gave one the feeling ofnumbness, so that nothing mattered but the next meal, the next movie inthe recreation lounge, the next drink of water. Values changed andshifted, and none of them seemed important.
The chains that began to bind him were far stronger than steel. Thechains were mental deterioration, degeneration, mutation within the verycells of the mind. He knew that now he must tend this monster forever,grease and wipe the ugly metal of it, and sit and talk idly toMacNamara, its keeper. He realized it, and didn't know how to care!
The anger and hate came later. The real, abiding anger, and the livinghate. At first the numbness, the sudden incomprehensible enormity ofwhat had happened to him, then the anger. Hate churned and ground awayinside him, getting stronger by the hour. It all revolved around theCaptain who tramped eternally around the corridors bellowing orders,punching with his huge fists. He knew there was more to it; the lyingowners of the Company, the bribe-taking officials, the health officerswho failed to examine the ships and the men and the ships' papers. Butsomehow it all boiled down to the Captain.
Sometimes he was sure he must be crazy already. Sometimes he would wakeup screaming from a nightmare only to find reality more horrible.
Then he would go to Ann.
Ann was not the only woman aboard ship. There were three others, and tothe crew of twenty imprisoned, enslaved men they represented all beauty,all womanhood. They lived with the men--as the men--and nobody cared.Here, so close to the raging elementals of the pile, life itself waselemental.
As one of them expressed it to Gene: "Why worry? We're all sterile fromthe radioactivity anyway. Or didn't you know?" She had been on the shipfor years, and was covered with a fine fur, like a cat's. Her eyes werewide, placid, empty; an animal's unthinking eyes. Gene prayed Ann wouldnever turn monster before his eyes; hoped desperately they could getaway in time.
"We've got to fight, Ann," he said to her one day. "We must find a wayto get off at the end of the trip, or it will be too late for us to livenormal lives. It's then or never. Besides that, we've got to warn peopleof what's going on. They think space travel is safe. In time this couldeffect the whole race. The world must be told, so something can bedone."
Ann's young face showed signs of the strain. The fear of turning intosome hideous thing was preying on her mind. She spoke rapidly, her voicebreaking a little. "I've been talking to several of the crew, theold-timers, trying to get an understanding of why nothing is done. It'sthis way: when the ships land, guards come aboard. They're posted at thecargo locks and the passenger entrances. The only door aboard the shipthat leads to the passenger compartment is in the Captain's cabin, andit's locked from both sides. Even our Captain never meets thepassengers. There's only one chance, a mutiny. Then we could open thedoor, show the passengers."
"It wouldn't do any good. When we landed, they'd find a way to shut usall up before we got to anybody. They've had a lot of practice keepingthis quiet. They know the answers."
She stamped a foot angrily. "It was you who said we had to fight! Nowyou say it's hopeless!"
Gene leaned against the wall and passed a hand across his eyes. Helooked at Ann's flushed beauty and managed a grin. "Guess I'm getting asbad as the rest of them, baby. We'll fight. Sure we'll fight."
* * * * *
It started with Schwenky. Schwenky was a gigantic Swede. He was the bossfreight handler. It was his job to sort the cargo for the next port ofcall. He would get it into the cargo lock, then seal the doors so nobodywould try to smuggle themselves out with the freight. Schwenky wasintensely loyal and stupid enough not to understand the real reasonbehind their imprisonment--which was why he held his job. No one got bySchwenky.
But this time, in Marsport, something was missing. They'd driven thetrucks up to the cargo port, unloaded everything, and then comparedinvoices with the material. They swore some claimed machinery parts weredue them. Schwenky swore he'd placed them in the cargo lock, and thatthe truckers were trying to hold up the Company.
The Captain allowed the truckers claim and after the ship had blastedoff into space, called Schwenky in to bawl him out. They must havegotten really steamed up, because Gene and Frank Maher heard the racketclear down on the next deck where they were cleaning freight out of asealed compartment for the next stop.
Gene and Frank raced up the ladders to the top deck, and Gene found thebreak he had prayed for. Schwenky holding the Captain against the wall;beating the monstrosity that had once been a man with terrible fists.Gene felt a sudden thrill. In a situation like this you used any weaponyou could find. Schwenky was a deadly weapon.
Gene laid a hand on Schwenky's massive shoulder. "Hold it man! You'llkill him!"
Schwenky turned a face, red and popeyed, to Gene. "The Captain make amistake. He try to knock Schwenky down. No man do that to Schwenky."
"When he comes to, he'll lock you in the brig, put you on bread andwater...."
Suddenly Schwenky realized the enormity of his offense. It was obviousfrom his face that he considered himself already dead. "Nah, my friendGene! Now they kill Schwenky. Bad! But what I do?"
Gene eyed him carefully. "Put the Captain in the brig, of course. Whatelse? Then he _can't_ kill you."
"Lock him up, eh? Good idea! Then we think, you and I, what we do next.Maybe something come to us, eh?"
Gene bent over the Captain's body, found the pistol in his hip pocket,put it in his own. He took the ring of keys from the belt.
"Bring him along, Schwenky. If we meet anyone, I'll use this." Genepatted the gun. "I won't let them hurt my friend, Schwenky."
"Damn! let them come! I fix them! Don't have to shoot them. I gotfists!"
"I'd rather be shot, myself," said Gene, watching the ease with whichthe giant freight handler lifted the huge body of the Captain, tossingit over his shoulder like a sack of straw.
"I'll go ahead," said Frank Maher. "If I run into Perkins, the First,I'll whistle once. If I run into Symonds, the Second, I'll whistletwice. I don't think there's another soul aboard we need worry about.All we got to do is slap the Cap in the brig, round up Perkins andSymonds, and the ship is ours. What worries me, Gene, then what do wedo?"
"It's Schwenky's mutiny," grinned Gene. "Ask him.
"
"Nah!" said Schwenky hastily. "I don' know. Maybe we just sail on tillwe find good place, leave ship, go look for job."
Maher said, "Me with my lumpy face? And the Chief with hair on hischeekbones and double eyeballs? And Heinie with fingernails growingwhere his collar button should be? I wonder what we _can_ do, if we getfree?"
* * * * *
They got down the first stairwell, but passing along the rather lengthycompanionway to the next stairhead, they heard Maher whistle