“You have lived so long below the surface of this planet that you are in danger of losing the sense of adventure, the greatness of spirit, the willingness to take risks that is the essence of the spirit of man. I am asking you to show that the greatness of mankind is not yet lost. In the name of the first ignorant savage to discover the use of fire, I am asking you. In the name of the primitive inventor of the wheel, I am asking you. In the name of that long-dead semi-human creature who found that a log would transport him across water, I am asking you. In the name of the first man who killed himself constructing a flying machine, I am asking you. And I am asking you in the names of the illustrious dead of Earth. Of Galileo, Copernicus and Kepler, who gave you knowledge of the stars. In the names of Leonardo, Rembrandt, Michelangelo, who fixed beauty and wonder upon canvas and in stone. In the names of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, who brought the music of the spheres to men. In the names of Louis Pasteur, who helped conquer disease; Ernest Rutherford, who opened the door to atomic energy, Yuri Gagarin, who was the first man to venture into space.
“But these were Earth men, and you are Minervans, and your ancestors were Martians. So why should you be concerned with the fate of Earth? I will tell you why. Because the red blood of Earth still runs in your veins. Your ancestors lived on Mars for two thousand years. You have dug a rabbit warren here on Minerva and have survived for three thousand years. But you have only survived. You have done nothing else. And yet you carry the red blood of Earth. The blood of the first man who used fire, the blood of Leonardo, the blood of Gagarin.
“Garfield Talbot, who has his own claim to greatness, knew that there was a time to stay still and a time to go forth. Do not betray his heritage; but also do not betray the future of man.
“I will now take possession of the Amazonia. If none of you join us, we will not retaliate as threatened. We will lift from Minerva and route ourselves for Earth. I doubt that we shall arrive. But, as a poet whose name I fail to recall, once said: ‘The journey is what matters.’ Message ends.”
Mary’s eyes were wet with tears. “My love, I am so proud. You are the last Earth man, and I shall be proud to die in your company.”
“You will not die,” said Idris intensely. “You will not die. You are not allowed to die. There is something in your belly that has got to live. Now stop wasting bloody time and put on a space suit. We must lock ourselves into the Amazonia before those Triple-T characters recover their wits.”
37
IDRIS SAT IN the command chair on the navigation deck of the Amazonia. He was waiting. Mary was securely hooked to the first officer’s chair. It was going to be one hell of a lift-off, thought Idris. The Amazonia would probably turn turtle during the first ten seconds of ignition. And that would be the beginning and the end of the voyage to Earth.
Still, nothing attempted, nothing gained. It had been worth the effort. Some you win, some you lose. This one was lost. The Minervans had not responded, or the Triple-T had been too strong. Still, it had been worth the effort. And this was a better way to die than by running out of air on the surface.
He had kept the radio channels open. But so far there was nothing except static.
He glanced at the metres on the control console.
“Seven minutes to lift off,” he said professionally.
Mary was silent for a while. Then she said urgently: “Idris, they are coming.”
“Christ, woman, who is coming?”
“They are coming, look.”
He went to the observation panel, over which steel shutters would descend before ignition.
It was true. They were coming. He could see lights out on Talbot Field. Rapidly moving lights. Jet sleds.
But who was coming? A wrecking squad, most likely.
The radio gave him his answer. He heard the voice of Damaris de Gaulle.
“Hello, Jesus Freak. Hello, Jesus Freak. You have your volunteers. When one bloom dies, another is born. Do you read me?”
“I read you,” said Idris. “I liked that legend very much. Assemble your volunteers, please, at the control tower. The lock is open.”
He looked through the observation panel and saw the fairy lights—at least that is what they looked like—converging on the control tower.
He turned to Mary. “Destination, Earth?”
Perhaps, eventually, the other ships that Garfield Talbot in his wisdom had preserved would follow. Perhaps not.
But one, at least, would discover whether Earth, the third planet, would bloom again.
Suddenly, Idris had begun to believe in magic. When one flower dies, another is born.
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Also By Edmund Cooper
Collections
Jupiter Laughs
Voices in the Dark
A World of Difference
Novels
All Fool's Day (1966)
The Cloud Walker (1973)
A Far Sunset (1967)
Five to Twelve (1968)
Kronk (1970) (aka Son of Kronk)
The Last Continent (1970)
Merry Christmas Ms Minerva (1978)
The Overman Culture (1971)
Prisoner of Fire (1974)
Seahorse in the Sky (1969)
Seed of Light (1959)
The Slaves of Heaven (1975)
The Tenth Planet (1973)
Transit (1964)
Uncertain Midnight (1958) (aka Deadly Image)
Who Needs Men? (1972)
Ferry Rocket (1954) (Writing as George Kinley)
The Expendables (Writing as Richard Avery)
1. The Expendables: The Deathworms of Kratos (1975)
2. The Expendables: The Rings of Tantalus (1975)
3. The Expendables: The Wargames of Zelos (1975)
4. The Expendables: The Venom of Argus (1976)
Dedication
This one is for Daryl Cooper,
my scientific adviser
Edmund Cooper (1926 – 1982)
Edmund Cooper was born in Cheshire in 1926. He served in the Merchant navy towards the end of the Second World War and trained as a teacher after its end. He began to publish SF stories in 1951 and produced a considerable amount of short fiction throughout the ’50s, moving on, by the end of that decade, to the novels for which he is chiefly remembered. His works displayed perhaps a bleaker view of the future than many of his contemporaries’, frequently utilising post-apocalyptic settings. In addition to writing novels, Edmund Cooper reviewed science fiction for the Sunday Times from 1967 until his death in 1982.
Copyright
A Gollancz eBook
Copyright © The Edmund Cooper Literary Trust. Contact e-mail [email protected] 1973
All rights reserved.
The right of Edmund Cooper to be identified as the author
of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This eBook first published in Great Britain in 2013 by
Gollancz
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martin’s Lane
London, WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 0 575 11657 3
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher,
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The Tenth Planet Page 18
