feeling of being on his own, of having made thebreak with his tame past as complete as possible. Earth-beef tasted toostrong; Venus seaweed stew had a pungency that he didn't like.
He finished his plate only because he had been taught that to leave foodover was wasteful. And for the first time he began to wonder what theywould feed him on the spaceship. Suppose he got on one that wasn'tscheduled to make port for five years--and all he received to eat wasstuff like this? The thought made him shudder. Here was a hardship ofspace travel that the books he read had never mentioned.
After eating, he slumped back in his chair. He hadn't realized he was socompletely exhausted until a hand shook his shoulder. Then he awokewith a start.
A waiter said, "This is no place to sleep, youngster."
"I'm sorry, sir. I was tired and I didn't realize."
"You been here for a long time. Waiting for someone?"
"Yes, sir. Something must have held him up."
"Seems to me that I noticed you walk in here about three hours ago.That's a long time to wait."
"That's what I thought, sir. I can't understand what happened."
"Well, you can't hang around here. I'll tell you what I'll do, though.I'll turn you over to the matron in our Lost and Found room, and she'lllook out for you. Follow me."
* * * * *
In a daze, Plato followed. But as his feet were set into motion, so washis brain. By now, of course, the search for him must be well on. Theymust have traced him to the station, and perhaps, despite his clevertrick with the ticket, they had found the flight he had taken. For allhe knew, they might be waiting for him in the Lost and Found room, readyto seize him the moment he showed his face there.
He hadn't gone so far to be recaptured so easily. As they passed an exitdoor, Plato darted out. He heard the waiter's surprised shout, but hedidn't wait to reply. In a second, he had lost himself in the crowd.
He knew now that if he was going to get aboard an interstellar vessel,he would have to do so soon. What would Comets Carter have done inPlato's place--if Comets had been in one of his brighter moods? And thenhe had it. He saw a messenger coming down the street, gleaming in hisuniform, and, somewhat nervously, approached him.
"May I speak to you?" asked Plato, with school-taught politeness.
"What about, bud? I'm busy."
"Well, I've been wanting to get Captain Halverson's autograph. He's onthe _Space Symphony_--"
"So what?"
"Well, the thing is, they won't let me past the gate. So I thought thatif I wore a messenger's uniform--"
The other boy glared at him. "Are you off your Norbert? I wouldn't letyou wear this uniform for a zillion credits."
Plato swallowed nervously, and said in desperation, "I don't have azillion credits, but I've got eight, and I'll give them to you if youlet me wear it. Just half an hour, that's all it'll take. It's the lastchance I'll have to ask him. He's bound for Rigel, and he won't be backfor five years, and you see--"
His voice tapered to a thin, tearful squeak as the messenger looked athim.
"You're offering me eight space-lousy credits?"
"It's all I have. We'll just change clothes for a few minutes, andthat'll be all. Please, I've got to see him. I know that if I do, he'llgive me his autograph."
"Okay," said the messenger unexpectedly. "But hurry back. I'll be at thegate waiting for you."
* * * * *
As they exchanged clothes, Plato was almost feverish with excitement.But he knew that if he expected to get past the guard, he would have tocontrol himself. The clothes didn't fit too well, even though themessenger was small, and he must do nothing that would arouse theguard's suspicion.
He said to the messenger, "Gee, thanks. You don't know how much thismeans to me." And then, with a mental grip on himself so tense that ithurt physically, he approached the guard, and said casually, "Earth'gram for Captain Halverson."
The guard hardly looked at him. He was past the gate!
He had been tricky again. Once out of sight of the guard, he made notfor the _Space Symphony_, but for the _Long Ranger_, bound forAldebaran.
"Earth 'gram for Captain Brinjar," he muttered, doing his best to lookbored, as if delivering 'grams to ships was an old thing to him. Andthen he was aboard!
It was not quite what he expected. The smooth walls were such as hemight have found in his own dormitory. The quarters, he saw, werecramped, although for someone his size they were at least adequate. Andthe passageways, although brilliantly lighted, were mere narrow tunnels.
From the main passageway, other tunnels branched off bewilderingly, andPlato hesitated until he realized that his very confusion gave him anexcuse for poking his nose into all sorts of places. He followed one ofthe tunnels until he came to a door: ENGINE ROOM--KEEP OUT.
He entered. A mechanic looked up.
"Earth 'gram for Captain Brinjar. They said he was around here."
"Not here," replied the mechanic. "Try the cargo hold."
Plato backed out and set off down the corridor again, noting thedirection arrows and signs. TO MAIN LOUNGE--no good. TO CAPTAIN'SCABIN--worse. He didn't want to find the captain and lose his excuse forbeing there.
And then he saw TO FOOD STORAGE and knew that he need look no further.This was a place both to hide and to eat, until the ship took off, andthe crew found him, and had to accept him as one of themselves.
He opened the door to the food storage hold with an elaborate cautionthat turned out to be unnecessary. There was no one inside. He settleddown between two packing cases and let out his breath. He had made it.He had stowed away successfully, and in a few hours he would be out inspace, traveling between the stars, fighting, adventuring--
A yawn almost wiped the smile off his face.
* * * * *
He awoke to disaster. The captain and Plato's dorm master were standingthere, staring down at him, and the dorm master was saying, "All right,Plato, you've had your adventure, and now I'm afraid you'll have to payfor it. It's time to go home."
Plato couldn't move. It was impossible, after he had been so clever, soingenious, and had thrown them off the trail in so many ways, for themto have found him!
"You shouldn't have bought a ticket to the wrong station," said the dormmaster, somewhat amusedly. "When the conductor turned it in, the onlyone of its kind on his flight, it naturally attracted attention. Wehadn't even suspected you had taken a glider-train until the flightpeople came to us."
Now he would never adventure on strange planets of unknown suns. Hewould never course through space like Comets Carter. He would never havethe adventures which alone made life seem worth living.
Unable to control himself, he burst into tears. It was a completelyunmanly thing to do, but he couldn't help himself. The tears flowed downover his cheeks, washing away all his shattered illusions. He wouldnever dream such dreams again. From now on, it would be useless. Theywould be watching him carefully to make sure that he didn't leave theplanet.
He heard the captain say in astonishment, "I didn't know these youngones could cry like that."
"Of course they cry," replied the dorm master. "They eat, sleep,cry--almost like you and me, Captain. And worst of all, they even havetheir dreams. That's why I sometimes wonder, Captain, if it isn't amistake to send them to school."
"They have to learn."
"Granted," agreed the dorm master somberly. "But not to dream of beinghuman when they're only androids."
--WILLIAM MORRISON
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ November 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
ends
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