The Ninth Science Fiction Megapack

by Arthur C. Clarke

  A few people called to him, but he went on until he reached the church steps. The door was still in ruins and the bell was gone. Amos stood quietly waiting, his mind focusing slowly as he stared at the people, who were just beginning to recognize him and to spread hasty words from mouth to mouth. Then he saw little Angela Anduccini, and motioned for her to come to him. She hesitated briefly, before following him inside and to the organ.

  The little Hammond still functioned. Amos climbed to the pulpit, hearing the old familiar creak of the boards. He put his hands on the lectern, seeing the heavy knuckles and blue veins of age as he opened the Bible and made ready for his Sunday morning congregation. He straightened his shoulders and turned to face the pews, waiting as they came in.

  There were only a few at first. Then more and more came, some from old habit, some from curiosity, and many only because they had heard that he had been captured in person, probably. The camera crew came to the back and set up their machines, flooding him with bright lights and adjusting their telelens. He smiled on them, nodding.

  He knew his decision now. It had been made in pieces and tatters. It had come from Kant, who had spent his life looking for a basic ethical principle, and had boiled it down in his statement that men must be treated as ends, not as means. It had come from Rover’s passive acceptance of the decision of a god who could do nothing for him, and from the one rebellious act that had won Anne his respect. It had been distilled from Doc’s final challenge, and from the old man sitting in his doorway, ready to face any challenger.

  There could be no words with which to give his message to those who waited. No orator had ever possessed such a command of language. But men with rude speech, and limited use of what they had, had fired the world before. Moses had come down from a mountain with a face that shone, and had overcome the objections of a stiff-necked people. Peter the Hermit had preached a thankless crusade to all of Europe, without radio or television. It was more than words or voice.

  He looked down at them when the church was filled and the organ hushed.

  “My text for today,” he announced, and the murmurs below him hushed as his voice reached out to the pews. “Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make men free!”

  He stopped for a moment, studying them, feeling the decision in his mind, and knowing he could make no other. The need of him lay here, among those he had always tried to serve while believing he was serving God through them. He was facing them as an end, not as a means, and he found it good.

  Nor could he lie to them now, or deceive them with false hopes. They would need all the facts if they were to make an end to their bickerings and to unite themselves in the final struggle for the fullness of their potential glory.

  “I have come back from captivity among the aliens,” he began. “I have seen the hordes who have no desire but to erase the memory of man from the dust of the earth that bore him. I have stood at the altar of their God. I have heard the voice of God proclaim that He is also our God, and that He has cast us out. I have believed Him, as I believe Him now.”

  He felt the strange, intangible something that was greater than words or oratory flow out of him as it had never flowed in his envied younger days. He watched the shock and the doubt arise and disappear slowly as he went on, giving them the story and the honest doubts he still had. He could never know many things, or even whether the God worshipped on the alien altar was wholly the same God who had been in the hearts of men for a hundred generations. No man could understand enough. They were entitled to all his doubts, as well as to all of which he knew.

  He paused at last, in the utter stillness of the chapel. He straightened and smiled down at them, drawing the smile out of some reserve that had lain dormant since he had first tasted inspiration as a boy. He saw a few smiles answer him, and then more—uncertain, doubtful smiles that grew more sure as they spread.

  He could feel himself reach them, while the television camera went on recording it all. He could feel his regained strength welding them together. He could feel them suddenly one and indivisible as he went on.

  But there was something else. Over the chapel there was a glow, a feeling of deepening communion. It lifted and enshrouded him with those below him. He opened himself up to it without reserve. Once he had thought it came only from God. Now he knew it came from the men and women in front of him. Like a physical force, he could sense it emanating from them and from himself, uniting them and dedicating them.

  He accepted it, as he had once accepted God. The name no longer mattered, when the thing was the same.

  “God has ended the ancient covenants and declared Himself an enemy of all mankind,” Amos said, and the chapel seemed to roll with his voice. “I say to you: He has found a worthy opponent.”

  LUVVER, by Mack Reynolds

  “APPROACHING A RESTRICTED ZONE. LANDING FORBIDDEN.”

  Donald Macbride continued to fight the controls of the sport cruiser, but his facial muscles were less tense now, and his eyes had lost some of the hopelessness. They were going to make it.

  The radio blared again. “APPROACHING A RESTRICTED ZONE. LANDING FORBIDDEN.”

  Macbride grimaced wryly. “It’s like telling a man who’s just come through a desert not to drink.” He wrenched hard at a control lever. “The worst part’s over. We’ll make it, honey.” He wiped perspiration from his forehead. “I didn’t tell you back there, but I was convinced we were goners.”

  She shivered. “You didn’t have to tell me, Father. Actually. Looking at you was enough…”

  The televisor screen lit up, and an angry-faced, red-headed young man was pictured.

  He spoke curtly. “Haven’t you received our warnings? You’re entering a restricted zone. For security reasons it’s forbidden…”

  Macbride flared back. “You young fool. Can’t you see we’re in distress? It’s all I’ve been able to do to wrestle this blasted thing through the last half million miles. And you tell us we can’t land!”

  The face in the televisor scowled worriedly. “Can’t you make it to some other port? Only an extreme emergency…”

  The older man glared. “We’ll be lucky if we make it to your field. This is an extreme emergency. My daughter and I are fortunate to have made it this far.”

  “Daughter?” The young man’s eyes went back over Macbride’s shoulder and widened when they took in the trim blonde. “I’ll be a makron, a girl!” He caught what he’d said, began to redden. The screen suddenly went dead.

  Patricia Macbride laughed. “Why, he blushed, father. Actually. I didn’t know it happened anymore.”

  Her father scowled at her, still fighting his controls. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that there were still some young fellows raised with the old common decency to be ashamed to swear before a lady?”

  She giggled. “Not any more.”

  He snorted and began to answer, but the televisor screen brightened again. The face was that of a newcomer. His expression was somewhat startled, and his Space Forces cap and his tie gave the impression of having been hurriedly located and donned. His voice was formal, but his eyes were wide, and although he spoke to Macbride, he kept them on Patricia.

  “Lieutenant Steve Benton, sir. Officer in command of Security Base 1645-R. I must warn you that only in extreme emergency can you be permitted to land, and that if you do land there is a possibility that you may never leave.”

  The owner of the crippled space craft growled indignantly. “Nonsense. Climb down off your military high-horse. Can’t you see what we are? A man and his daughter in a sport cruiser that’s gone haywire. We must land. It’ll be easy enough to check my credentials. Do we look like spies or something?”

  The lieutenant stiffened slightly under the tongue lashing. “You don’t understand, sir. It’s unsafe for human beings. This is not a military base. We’re here to warn off all spaceships. You might say that this is the equivalent of a lighthouse.”

  Macbride was impatient. “Whatever it is, we’re co
ming in for a landing. Stand by.”

  “Just one thing, sir. After landing, don’t leave your ship—and don’t look out your ports. You’ll be in considerable danger every moment you’re on this planet. We’ll do what we can to protect you.”

  * * * *

  Half an hour later, the small cruiser had safely landed on the tiny planet’s sole field. Now that the strain of bringing the damaged craft through so many miles of space was over, the reaction set in. The middle-aged Macbride slumped into an acceleration chair, dragging away at a cigarette.

  “Where the devil are they? Don’t land! Don’t leave the ship! Don’t look out the ports! The place is probably populated by the insane, and I’m about ready to join them.”

  Patricia giggled. “They didn’t look insane. The red-headed one was cute. Actually.”

  They heard a tapping at the inner door of the space lock, and with a grunt Macbride went to open it. The visitors had already closed the outer lock and the view beyond them couldn’t be seen.

  They were correctly arrayed in Space Force uniforms, but it obviously was strange to them. Lieutenant Benton’s collar was too tight, his tie askew. The other wore a regulation tunic, but it looked as though it had been packed away in a musty trunk for many a year while its owner had gone in less formal attire. Both of them seemed ill at ease.

  Lieutenant Steve Benton stiffened. “May I present Lieutenant Dave Malone, my assistant?”

  Macbride rumbled, “I’m Donald Macbride, of Terra; this is my daughter, Patricia. I must say, our treatment thus far on the part of representatives of my planet’s Space Forces has been cavalier, to say the least.”

  The eyes of the two lieutenants were on the daughter, not the father, but Benton managed to fumble through an answer. “More than sorry, sir…but, er, orders. I’m afraid that this is an extremely dangerous place to land.”

  Patricia giggled. “It’s monstrously thrilling. So adventurous. Actually.”

  Her father snorted. “Undoubtedly, the Space Forces have sufficient strength to protect any civilians present on the planet. Lieutenant, I assume you’ve the mechanics and repair facilities to patch up this cursed cruiser of mine?”

  Benton dragged his eyes back to Macbride. “Lieutenent Malone and I are alone here. However, both of us have had considerable experience on space craft. We should be able to have your sporter in space again within a few days. Unfortunately, you’ll have to spend the full time cooped up in our quarters… I’m afraid it won’t be too comfortable.”

  Patricia bubbled, “You mean the air here can’t be breathed? You must stay inside all of the time? How utterly dreadful. You must become dreadfully bored. Actually!”

  Lieutenant Dave Malone finally found his tongue. He’d been standing, almost open-mouthed, looking at this luscious product of Earth’s most expensive beauty salons. “It’s not that, Miss Macbride. The air’s all right. It’s just that we can’t let you be exposed to the animal life here.”

  She giggled. “But, Lieutenant, I’m sure you could protect us.”

  Her father snorted. “If these animals are so dangerous, why is it that you men don’t find it necessary to carry weapons?”

  Benton took over. “You don’t understand, sir. The danger isn’t of the type from which a gun could protect you.” He shivered slightly, as though the very idea was repugnant. “At any rate, the thing to do now is get you to our quarters, where you can rest. Lieutenant Malone and I will look over your ship and see what is needed. I’m afraid you’ll have to wear blindfolds for the short walk to our place.”

  They ran into protests on that, but Lieutenant Benton was adamant. Blindfolds must be worn. Regulations. Finally, they submitted and were led carefully from the space cruiser, across what seemed to be a grassy field, to the residence of the two Space Forces officers. A moment later, the blindfolds were removed and they were free to examine their surroundings.

  The quarters were ample in size, and seemingly the two men had all they needed in their lonely exile, but it could be seen that the isolated life had seduced them from army trimness. The place was a bachelor shambles.

  “What you need around here is a woman,” Patricia giggled.

  “You ain’t just a-whistlin’ Dixie,” Malone breathed.

  Macbride crushed him with a stare.

  “To keep the place neat,” the redhead added quickly. “Let’s see, it’s been nearly six years since anybody’s been here but us.”

  “Six years!” Macbride protested. “Do you mean to say that you men haven’t been relieved in six years? Why, that’s unbelievable.”

  “It’s been more than ten years for Steve,” Malone said wryly.

  “That’s enough, Dave,” Steve Benton rapped. “You’ve said too much.”

  “He hasn’t said enough,” Macbride retorted belligerently. “I know the Space Forces. Put three years in myself during the Martian war. And leaving men alone at an isolated base for six years, not to mention ten, without relief, is unnecessary hardship. You boys are being called upon for sacrifices beyond the call of duty.”

  Steve Benton walked wearily over to a portable bar and pressed various buttons. Four frosted glasses emerged. He motioned the others to chairs and handed around the drinks.

  “You’ll recall, Mr. Macbride, that just before you landed I warned you that possibly you would never be able to leave. That’s the position in which Lieutenant Malone and I find ourselves.”

  The older man’s face reddened. “You mean we’d be forced to remain on this unknown, unpopulated planet for a lengthy time?”

  Dave Malone grinned and took a sip of his drink. “Not for a lengthy time, sir. Forever.”

  Macbride turned his glare from Benton to Malone. “What kind of a fantastic threat is that?”

  Benton raised his hand. “Don’t misunderstand, Mr. Macbride. We have no desire to force you to remain here. And, if proper precautions continue to be maintained, there will be no reason for your staying. Just remember, you must stay inside this building until your craft is repaired and you are ready to leave.

  “I might also add that Lieutenant Malone seems to have given you an incorrect impression. The Space Forces haven’t forced us to remain here. We stay of our own will. Twice a year a transport is sent to drop us our requirements.” He pointed out the portable bar and various other conveniences usually not seen in a military establishment. “We receive a good deal more than commonly comes under the heading of rations. Our life is quite comfortable.”

  “I think it’s all perfectly mysterious. Actually.” Patricia giggled. “You forbid us to land, claiming it’s too dangerous, but when we do, we find nobody here except you boys. You make us wear blindfolds so we can’t see anything, and tell us you’ve been here six years without any relief. You even draw the curtains so we can’t see out your windows. Actually. It’s so mysterious. I just know I’ll love staying for awhile—really, I will.”

  Dave Malone was gazing at her with the worshipful eyes of an adoring puppy. Steve Benton looked over at him and snapped, “Come on Dave. We’d better take a look at the cruiser. I hope we have all the materials necessary for its repair.”

  He turned back to the two civilians. “You’ll find everything you need. Food, drinks, books, music—movies, if you want. Make yourselves at home. We’ll be back shortly. I’m afraid I must ask your word that you won’t either leave the building nor look out its windows.”

  “All right,” Macbride snorted.

  “Miss Macbride?”

  “I promise.” Patricia giggled.

  * * * *

  When they found themselves in the open and walking toward the damaged ship, Steve Benton eyed the other worriedly. “You’d better watch yourself, Dave, or you’ll be in an emotional mess. You know she can’t stay here and you can’t leave.”

  Malone answered quickly. “Why not? Why couldn’t she stay? It’s not so bad here. We get along fine, don’t we? Why not fix it so they’d have to remain, too? We’d have company, Steve. Why, it’
d even be a relief to have the old man around. Somebody new.”

  The muscles twitched in the senior officer’s face. “You know better than that, Dave. Being stationed here means more than just doing the usual spaceman’s duty. We’ve got a trust. In a way, the race depends on us. If we start letting down on the job just a fraction, it’ll be a precedent that’ll make it that much easier next time.”

  “There’d never need be another time. And nobody would have to know we did it deliberately, not even them.”

  Steve Benton’s grin was wry. “I see. When you get this girl for yourself, that ends it. Suppose I want one later on? And suppose that Macbride decides he wants a wife to share his exile? It could pile up, Dave, until the whole project would be a failure.”

  The redhead was depressed. “I suppose you’re right, Steve.” They walked in silence for a moment, and his natural exuberance reasserted itself. “Maybe she’ll see a luvver by accident,” he said hopefully.

  * * * *

  At the beginning, dinner that night was pleasant enough. For the two exiles, Macbride’s crusty nature and snorting comments were more than counterbalanced by his daughter’s accentuated feminine charm. It evidently hadn’t occured to either of them that her giggling would lose its charm given a period of years—if not months. It was obvious that they thought her wonderful.

  “What’s the report on the ship?” Macbride growled. “How soon can we leave?”

  “Perhaps late tomorrow,” Benton told him. There was an air of hopefulness in his reply.

  “Why, I never,” Patricia objected. “You actually sound as though you’re in a hurry to have us leave. Actually. I’ll bet Lieutenant Malone doesn’t feel that way.”

  She turned her limpid blue eyes on that love-sick worthy.

  The redhead gulped. “Golly, no. But Steve doesn’t mean it that way, Miss Macbride…”

  She giggled. “Call me Patricia.”

  He gulped again. “Er…Patricia. It’s just that it isn’t safe for you to stay. Every hour is as dangerous as the last, and neither of us will be able to rest until we get you safely away.”