Jordan studied it in silence. "Can't make it," he said at last.
"Why not? It's not difficult."
"Yeah. But we can't manage the delivery from earth. Don't have all the parts here." Jordan scratched his chest. "Tell you what. Think I can rob nonessential stuff and put together something like this." He took a pencil and began to sketch rapidly.
"It'll do," said Docchi, finally approving it after a number of changes.
Jordan scratched in the alterations. "Why so tight?" he complained, folding the sheet and tucking it away. "The computers don't have to be controlled so tight. They never have disobeyed."
"I know, and I'm not going to give them a chance. Every watt we allot must be used on the drive and for no other purpose."
Privately Jordan doubted it was necessary. When he thought of the great nuclear pile that warmed the heart of the asteroid and drove them on he didn't see how a mere ship, no matter how efficient, could surpass them. True, the ship was travelling faster now but that was because they weren't exerting their full energies. And when they did—Jordan shrugged and creased the paper again, swinging away.
At the door he swerved to miss Jeriann. "Hi," he said, hurrying a little faster. It was none of his concern what went on but he didn't have to be around when it blew up.
Jeriann returned the greeting and stood at the entrance. "May I come in?"
"Certainly. There's no sign it's restricted to electronic technicians."
Webber winked at her and bent his head over his work. Docchi was expressionless. "I want to talk to you," she said.
"About Maureen? I've heard. Go ahead."
She'd hoped he'd suggest a more private place but it was evident he didn't want to be alone with her. She didn't altogether blame him. "What I asked for the other day wasn't very realistic. It was mostly my fault. I had at least a month to think of getting a larger power supply to the machine but I thought I could get along without it. It was my own short-sightedness and I had no reason to expect you to drop what you're doing."
"You don't have to apologize. We're all trying to do our best —and various needs do conflict. Actually I might have found some way to run the extra power line if I hadn't been sure it was an act of pure desperation, that you had no idea of what you were going to do with it when you got it."
What made it worse was that he was right. The impulse had been irrational, the feeling that there must be something that would help. He should have said he was at fault too, that he should have built the command unit months ago. It made no difference he hadn't known there was a ship behind them. He should have said it.
"It's over," she said. "We've done what we could. I thought you'd like to see her while there's time."
"I can't leave for another ten hours. None of us can. We've got to get it wrapped up if it's going to be of any use at all," said Docchi, looking at what remained to be done. "Wait. You said I can see her. Sounds to me like she's better." He scanned her face hopefully.
She shook her head. "It doesn't mean that. We've stopped using hypnotics because they're no longer effective. Heavy sedatives, extremely heavy, are the only things that keep her from jumping up and running out to die."
His face was sallow. This was one of the times his slender shoulderless body seemed frailer than it was. "Ill come as soon as I can get away. We're near the finish line on this." He turned and walked past Webber to the far end of the room, bending over a technician's work to examine it.
She was trying to tell him and all he had to do was half listen. Nobody blamed either of them. Maureen wouldn't, if she were capable of any kind of judgment. From his position among the tangled tentacles of the mechanical squid, seemingly strangled by the motionless machinery, Webber winked soberly at her. Jeriann bit her lip and hurried out. Her eyes bumed but that was all. Her body was protected against unnecessary fluid loss.
It wasn't possible to drive the technicians. They weren't very skilled and the work was delicate. From the beginning they had known the importance of what they were doing and they were already at their top speed and above that no increase in productivity could be achieved. When he said ten hours Docchi optimistically thought eighteen.
And yet they were done in nine. Not because it would help Maureen—they knew it wouldn't. But because—well, why? Nobody asked for explanations. They made no mistakes; nothing had to be torn down and built again. And the less skilled men, those who puttered from one instruction to the next, stalling between orders, now seemed to anticipate what they would be told and to complete the work before it was given to them. They learned fast and what they didn't know how to do was done right anyway.
The wires ceased to resemble tentacles and were neatly arranged in the cabinet of the command unit, formerly the librarian, which was then moved against the wall. Calling in Jordan and discussing it with him, Docchi left the remainder of the work in his capable hands.
He was tired all over, inside and out. He didn't want to see anyone die, not someone he had been partly responsible for sentencing, whatever the circumstances. He walked along in the semi-twilight, wishing there was a cool breeze. He hadn't ordered one and so it was missing. Before long there wouldn't be any power to spare for circulation of the air.
And met him at the hospital steps, going up with him. "I've been waiting. I didn't want to go in alone."
He talked to her briefly and they went on in silence. The asteroid was being diminished, perhaps already had been. They all had first hand knowledge of what death was—at one time or another they'd brushed very near to it—but they were not accustomed to losing the encounter. One of their own kind, who should live for hundreds of years, would not.
Jeriann heard them and came outside of the hushed room. "I don't know what to say," she whispered. "Oh yes I do. I wish I had your face, Docchi. You would see it shining."
Whatever she thought, her face was shining, though not in the same way. He looked into her eyes but they were not easy to read. "You did it," he whispered.
"I don't know why I'm talking so low," she said, raising her voice. "It doesn't hurt now. No, I didn't have anything to do with it. Come in and see her."
Maureen was sleeping. Her breathing was light but regular as the lung machines responded normally. Her skin was waxen but it was not unhealthy. The wrinkles of strain had fallen away and her face was relaxed in the beauty of survival.
"Go ahead and talk," said Cameron from the corner as he bent over an analyzer. "I shot her full of dope. I guess I didn't have to—she'll sleep now no matter what you do."
"Thanks, doctor," said Docchi. "We're lucky to have you."
"Not half as lucky as I am to be here. Damnedest thing I ever saw. My colleagues wouldn't believe it." Carefully he closed the analyzer and rolled it away. "I forget I no longer have colleagues."
"The more remarkable.Your efforts alone."
"I guess you don't understand. I had nothing to do with it," said Cameron. "I was an interested and awed spectator but nothing more. The person who saved Maureen was Maureen herself."
"Now how could she?" said Anti. "She lacked male hormones and the bodily processes were out of control, upset, running away with themselves." She raised a few inches from the floor to get a better glimpse of the patient. The best refutation of Anti's argument was Maureen herself.
"It couldn't happen to anyone but an accidental," began Jeri-ann, but Cameron cut her off.
His voice was cool and dry, that of a lecturer. It was the only chance he'd get to share his discovery. "You know why you're biocompensators: the severe injury, and later pulling through with the help of medical science, developing the extraordinary resistance I spoke of. You had to have it or you didn't live. And the resistance remained after the injury was gone.
"In Maureen's case every function began to be disturbed after the supply of hormones was cut off. It got worse as we were unable to manufacture what she needed. She developed a raging fever and was in a constant state of hallucination. In an earlier era she would have been
a mass of cancerous tissue. Fortunately we are now able to control cancer quite simply.
"At any rate she was rapidly reaching the state where there was no coordination at all. Death should have been the result —but the body stepped in."
"Yes, but how?" said And.
"I don't know but I'm going to find out," said Cameron. "Last time I tested all the normal hormones were present. Somehow, out of tissues that weren't adapted to it, her body built up new organs and glands that supply her with the substances she needs to live."
Cell by cell the body had refused to die. Organs and nerves and tissues had fought the enveloping chaos. The body as a whole and in parts tried to survive but it was not adapted to conditions. So it adapted.
Nerves forged new paths in places they had never gone before because there was nothing at the end which they could attach to. But by the time they arrived at their destination certain specialized cells had changed their specialty. All cells in the adult body derived from an original one and they remembered though it was long ago. In the endless cellular generations since conception, in the continual microscopic death and rebirth that constitutes the life process, the cells had changed much—but in extremity the change was not irreversible.
Here a nerve began to fatten its stringy length; it was the beginning of what was later to become a long missing gland. Elsewhere a muscle seemed to encyst, adhering to another stray cell, changing both of them, working toward the definite goal.
From the brink the body turned and began the slow march toward health. What was missing it learned to replace and what could not be replaced it found substitutes for. Cell by cell, with organs and tissues and nerves, the body had fought its own great battle—and won.
"Spontaneous reconstruction," commented the doctor, touching the forehead of the patient he had not been able to help, merely observe. "It begins where our artificial regenerative processes leave off. I think—oh never mind. There's a lot of development to be done and I don't want to promise anybody something I can't deliver." He eyed Docchi's armless body speculatively.
Webber came in, noisily clanking his mechanical arm and leg. "Heard the good news," he said cheerfully. "Finished my work so I came over." He glanced admiringly at Maureen. "Say, I didn't remember she looked like that."
She was a pleasant sight and not merely because she'd fought off death. Her hps were full and color was returning to her face and the shape under the sheets was provocatively curved.
"Tomorrow or the next day she can leave the hospital for a few hours," said Cameron. "The new functions are growing stronger by the minute. Now she needs to get out after the long confinement."
"I'll volunteer to take her for a walk," said Webber.
"You will not," said Jeriann. "For the next few weeks she sees only women. Physiologically she's sound again but mentally she's still the complete female. You'll visit her when she's normal but not before."
"Guess I'll have to wait," said Webber, but he looked pleased.
She lingered outside while Webber left, seeking an opportunity to talk to Docchi. "I wanted to see you," she said as soon as they were alone.
"Any time. You know where I'll be."
"I know, and always working too."
"It's got to be done," he said doggedly.
"Sure. I know. I'll come over when I can." But she wouldn't, not until he gave her some encouragement. He had not forgiven the scene in the lab. Cameron called then and she went inside to her patient.
Docchi went back to gravity center, thoughts crowding through his mind. Little victories, though the life or death of a woman was not insignificant, were achieved without much effort. But that which meant something to everyone on the asteroid was more difficult. Where, in relation to their own position, was the ship that was striving to reach the Centauri group before they did?
"I'M COLD," said Jeriann.
"Put on more clothes," said Docchi grimly.
"That's not a nice thing to say to a girl with a figure as pretty as hers," said Anti.
"She can go to hydroponics," suggested Jordan. "It's warmer there and we've had to allow lights."
"But it's a lot smaller than it was and too many have crowded in. I don't want to be crushed," said Jeriann. She wouldn't have left even if it hadn't been true.
"Have to cut down," said Anti. "Meanwhile, what do we eat? Synthetics." She snorted.
"Synthetics are pure," said Jordan. His enthusiasm was less than it had been. A steady diet had begun to alter his opinion.
"Pure what?" said Anti, but received no reply. She looked over the circle huddled around the scanner. Nona was curled near Cameron, sleeping peacefully. Docchi leaned forward with uncomfortable intensity. Jeriann was beside him but he didn't seem to notice her. "How long does this go on?" said Anti. "I'm getting tired of freezing in the dark." Actually she didn't mind it; cold that would kill others still bothered her hardly at all.
"Until we know," said Docchi. "All the way to Centauri if it takes that long."
"How can we know?"
"We'll find out as soon as we measure relative speeds," answered Docchi. "The scanner is similar to radar but it uses gravity, which makes things rather difficult. We can't send out an impulse and see how long it takes to get back because it travels instantaneously as far as we're concerned."
"Then there isn't any way? They seem to know how fast we're going."
"Better astronomical equipment," said Docchi. "We're a bigger object and they were able to measure our light shift, until we stopped illuminating the whole dome."
"And now they can't tell because they can seldom see us?"
"The contrary, if they're on their toes. They should guess that we're putting most of the power into the drive."
"Then how can we find out?" said Anti.
"Triangulation," said Docchi. "When we first saw them it was from the front. In past weeks they've crept up until they're nearly broadside. Now I hope they'll drop back. It may take weeks to "tell, especially if our speeds are almost evenly matched."
"And if we don't gain?"
"With our power?" interrupted Jordan, ceasing to tune the scanner. "But, all right, we don't gain. We'll get there first because we're still a little ahead of them.
"If there are no aliens there's no question of interstellar law. They'll have to hunt us down over an entire planet and maybe blast us off. I don't think sentiment will let them actually harm us. If there are aliens, what are they going to do? We've told our story first."
The asteroid seemed to leap ahead as all but the most necessary functions were curtailed and additional power was channeled into the drive. There was no sense of motion, merely of tension as the unmistakable vibration increased. In the darkness through the darkness they hurtled. Sleeping or waking Docchi remained near the scanner, as if his presence would somehow cause the ship to recede. It didn't.
Across the silence the race went on intently. Weeks passed and Anti walked with increased assurance as her weight diminished and her strength grew greater. Maureen recovered and was released from the hospital. She disappeared frequently, mostly with Webber, and no one questioned where they went.
Jeriann came when she could get away from her hospital work. She came at night because it was usually night now though occasionally lights were turned on for short periods and warmth was allowed to filter through the dome. They couldn't risk killing the plants on which they depended for part of their oxygen supply.
"Good thing you're here," said Docchi once when she entered. "I want you to make some adjustments." She followed him to the next room where the former librarian was now the command unit presiding over their destiny.
"There," he said gloomily as she changed a number of settings slightly. "That's as good as I can do."
"How good is it?"
"Faster than we've gone before. I don't know the exact speed." "Faster than with Nona?"
"I think so. Of course I don't know what she could have gotten out of it if she'd tried—but she always seemed
to hold something back."
She would rather not have asked but the answer was on his face. "But it's not good enough?"
He sat down near the command unit. "They found out what we were doing and increased their own speed. It's slightly greater than ours." *
"Well, why do we do it?" she said. "It takes more and more power to add another mile per second as we approach the speed of light. But that holds true for them too."
He tried to frown away the problem she posed. "Sure, but it doesn't matter to them as long as they can match anything we do."
"But they'd just as soon not. They're inconvenienced the same as we are when they have to divert too much power. They're better organized and it's not so bad, but still they have to do without their ordinary comforts. I don't see any point in tormenting ourselves. Let's turn on the lights and warm up the place. They'll do the same when they see it."
"Maybe they will," he said grudgingly. He was not going to accept her advice.
She tried again. "Will the scanner reach Earth?"
He shook his head. "Not quite. The range is limited. I can't give you figures but I estimate we're well over halfway to the Centauris." He got up and paced in front of the command unit. "I know what you're thinking—the appeal to the people of Earth. We tried it once. You know where it got us."
He had turned and didn't notice her. "I wasn't thinking of that at all. I was wondering how close we are. We might get in touch with the aliens."
He whirled around. "Say that again. Did you really say that?"
"Of course there may not be any aliens," murmured Jeriann.
"Doesn't matter, or I don't think it does. I'll have to figure
it out, but I'm sure it will figure." His face flashed once. "Get
Jordan, will you? I'll be at the scanner." *
Gravity center was virtually a shaft that extended underground toward the center of the asteroid. At the bottom, shielded and reshielded, sealed off and impregnable, was the nuclear pile. Nearly half way down a horizontal shaft branched off, leading to the gravity coils which were anchored to solid rock.
F. L. Wallace Page 18
