Accidental Flight
Page 5
him the time until it hurt, waiting. Meanwhile he flippedon the telecom and searched the rocket dome. Nothing was moving; nogeepee was in sight. Docchi watched the screen with interest. What hethought didn't show on his face.
Still there was no reply from Vogel.
"All right," Docchi said in a low, hard voice. "Jordan, take it out.Hit the shell with the bow of the rocket."
The ship hardly quivered as it ripped through the transparent coveringof the rocket dome. The worst sound was unheard: the hiss of airescaping through the great hole in the envelope.
Jordan sat at the controls, gripping the levers. "I couldn't tell," hesaid slowly. "It happened too fast for me to be sure. Maybe Vogel didhave the inner shell out of the way. In that event, it's all rightbecause it would close immediately. The outer shell is supposed to beself-sealing, but I doubt if it could handle that much damage."
He twisted the lever and the ship leaped forward.
"Cameron I don't mind. He had enough time to get out if he wanted to.But I keep thinking that Nona might be in there."
Docchi avoided his eyes. There was no light at all in his face. Hewalked away.
Jordan rocked back and forth. The hemisphere that held what remainedof his body was well suited for that. He set the auto-controls andreduced the gravity to one-quarter Earth normal. He bent his greatarms and shoved himself into the air, deftly catching hold of a guiderail. He would have to go with Docchi. But not at the moment. He feltbad.
That is, he did until he saw a light blinking at a cabin door. He hadto investigate that first.
* * * * *
Jordan caught up before Docchi reached the cargo hold. In the lessergravity of the ship Jordan was truly at home.
Docchi turned and waited for him. Jordan still carried the weapon hehad taken from the pilot. It was clipped to the sacklike garment hewore, dangling from his midsection, which, for him was just below hisshoulders. Down the corridor he flew, swinging from the guide railslightly, though gravity on the ship was as erratic as on the asteroid.
Docchi braced himself. Locomotion was not so easy for him.
Jordan halted beside him and dangled from one hand. "We have anotherpassenger."
Docchi stiffened. "Who?"
"I could describe her," said Jordan. "But why, when a name will do atleast as well?"
"Nona!" said Docchi. He slumped in sudden relief against the wall."How did she get in the ship?"
"A good question," said Jordan. "Remind me to ask her that sometimewhen she's able to answer. But since I don't know, I'll have to use myimagination. My guess is that, after she jammed the lights andscanners in the rocket dome, she walked to the ship and tapped thepassenger lock three times in the right places, or something just asimprobable. The lock opened for her whether it was supposed to ornot."
"As good a guess as any," agreed Docchi.
"We may as well make our assumptions complete. Once inside, she felttired. She found a comfortable cabin and fell asleep in it. Sheremained asleep throughout our skirmish with the geepees."
"She deserves a rest," said Docchi.
"She does. But if she had waited a few minutes to take it, she'd havesaved you the trouble of crawling through the tubes."
"She did her part and more," Docchi argued. "We depend too much onher. Next we'll expect her to escort us personally to the stars." Hestraightened up. "Let's go. Anti is waiting for us."
The cargo hold was sizable. It had to be to contain the tank, batteredand twisted though it was. Equipment had been jarred from storageracks and lay in tangled heaps on the floor.
"Anti!" called Docchi.
"Here."
"Are you hurt?"
"Never felt a thing," came the cheerful reply.
* * * * *
Jordan scaled the side of the tank. He reached the top and peeredover. "She seems all right," he called down. "Part of the acid's gone.Otherwise no damage."
Damage enough, however. Acid was a matter of life for Anti. It hadbeen splashed from the tank and, where it had spilled, metal wascorroding rapidly. The wall against which the tank had crashed wasbent and partly eaten through. That was no reason for alarm; thescavenging system of the ship would handle acid. The real question waswhat to do for Anti.
"I've stewed in this soup for years," said Anti. "Get me out of here."
"How?"
"If you weren't as stupid as doctors pretend to be, you'd know how. Nogravity, of course. I've got muscles, more than you think. I can walkas long as my bones don't break from the weight."
No gravity would be rough on Docchi; having no arms, he would bevirtually helpless. The prospect of floating free without being ableto grasp something was terrifying.
"As soon as we can manage it," he said, forcing down his fear. "Firstwe've got to drain and store the acid."
Jordan had anticipated that. He'd swung off the tank and was busyexpelling the water from an auxiliary compartment into space. As soonas the compartment was empty, he led a hose from it to the tank.
The pumps sucked and the acid level fell slowly.
Docchi felt the ship lurch familiarly. "Hurry," he called out toJordan.
The gravital unit was acting up. Presumably it was getting ready tocut out. If it did--well, a free-floating globe of acid would be asdestructive to the ship and those in it as a high velocity meteorcluster.
Jordan jammed the lever as far as it would go and held it there. "Allout," said Jordan presently, and let the hose roll back into the wall.Done in plenty of time. The gravital unit remained in operation for afull minute.
As soon as she was weightless, Anti rose out of the tank.
In all the time Docchi had known her, he had seen no more than a faceframed in blue acid. Periodic surgery, where it was necessary, hadtrimmed the flesh from her face. For the rest, she lived submerged ina corrosive liquid that destroyed the wild tissue as fast as it grew.Or nearly as fast.
Docchi averted his eyes.
"Well, junkman, look at a real monster," snapped Anti.
* * * * *
Humans were not meant to grow that large. But it was not obscene toDocchi, merely unbelievable. Jupiter is not repulsive because it isthe bulging giant of planets; it is overwhelming, and so was Anti.
"How will you live out of the acid?" he stammered.
"How really unobservant some men are," said Anti loftily. "Ianticipated our little journey and prepared for it. If you lookclosely, you will notice I have on a special surgery robe. It's theonly thing in the Solar System that will fit me. It's fabricated froma spongelike substance and holds enough acid to last me aboutthirty-six hours."
She grasped a rail and propelled herself toward the corridor. Normallythat was a spacious passageway. For her it was a close fit.
Satellites, one glowing and the other swinging in an eccentric orbit,followed after her.
* * * * *
Nona was standing before the instrument panel when they came back.There was an impressive array of dials, lights and levers in front ofher, but she wasn't interested in these. A single small dial, separatefrom the rest, held her complete attention. She seemed disturbed bywhat she saw or didn't see. Disturbed or excited, it was difficult tosay which.
Anti stopped. "Look at her. If I didn't know she's a freak like therest of us, the only one, in fact, who was born that way, it would beeasy to hate her--she's so disgustingly normal."
Normal? True and yet not true. Surgical techniques that could take abody apart and put it back together again with a skill once reservedfor the repair of machines had made beauty commonplace. No moresagging muscles, wrinkles; even the aged were attractive andyouthful-seeming until the day they died. No more ill-formed limbs,misshapen bodies. Everyone was handsome or beautiful. No exceptions.
None to speak of, at least.
The accidentals didn't belong, of course. In another day most of themwould have been candidates for a waxworks or
the formaldehyde of aspecimen bottle.
Nona fitted neither category; she wasn't a repair job. Looking at herclosely--and why not?--she was an original work as far from the normalin one direction as Anti, for example, was in the other.
"Why is she staring at the little dial?" asked Anti as the othersslipped past her and came into the compartment. "Is there somethingwrong with it?" She shrugged. "I would be interested in the big dials.The ones with colored lights."
"That's Nona." Docchi smiled. "I'm sure she's never been in thecontrol room of a rocket before, and yet she went straight to the mostcurious thing in it. She's looking at the gravital indicator. Directlybehind it is the gravital unit."
"How do you know? Does it say so?"
"It doesn't. You have to be trained to recognize it, or else be Nona."
Anti dismissed that intellectual feat. "What are you waiting for? Youknow she can't hear us. Go stand in front of her."
"How do I get there?" Docchi had risen a few inches from the floor,now that Jordan had released him from his grip.
"A good engineer would have enough sense to put on magneslippers. Nonadid." Anti grasped his jacket. How she was able to move was uncertain.The tissues that surrounded the woman were too vast to permit theperception of individual motions. Nevertheless, she proceeded to thecenter of the compartment, and with her came Docchi.
Nona turned before they reached her.
"My poor boy," sighed Anti. "You do a very bad job of concealing youremotions, if that's what you're trying to do. Anyway, stop glowinglike a rainbow and say something."
"Hello," said Docchi.
Nona smiled at him, though it was Anti that she came to.
"No, not too close, child. Don't touch the surgery robe unless youwant your pretty face to peel off like a plastiwrapper."
Nona stopped; she said nothing.
Anti shook her head hopelessly. "I wish you would learn to read lipsor at least recognize written words. It's so difficult to communicatewith you."
"She knows facial expressions and actions, I think," said Docchi."She's good at emotions. Words are a foreign concept to her."
"What other concepts does anyone think with?" asked Anti dubiously.
"Maybe mathematical relationships," answered Docchi. "Though shedoesn't. They've tested her for that." He frowned. "I don't know whatconcepts she does think with. I wish I did."
"Save some of that worry and apply it to our present situation," saidAnti. "The object of your concern doesn't seem to be interested init."
That was true. Nona had wandered back and was staring at the gravitalindicator again. What she saw to hold her attention was a puzzle.
In some ways she seemed irresponsible and childlike. That was anelusive thought, though: whose child? Not really, of course. Herparents were obscure technicians and mechanics, descendants of a longline of mechanics and technicians. The question he had asked himselfwas this: where and how does she belong? He couldn't answer.
With an effort Docchi came back to reality. "We appealed to theMedicouncil," he said. "We asked for a ship to go to the nearest star.It would have to be a rocket, naturally. Even allowing for a betterdesign than any we now have, the journey would take a long time, fortyor fifty years going and the same length of time back. That's entirelytoo long for a normal, but it wouldn't matter to a biocompensator."
"Why a rocket?" interrupted Jordan. "Why not some form of gravitydrive?"
"An attractive idea," admitted Docchi. "Theoretically, there's nolimit to gravity drive except light speed, and even that's notcertain. If it would work, the time element could be cut to afraction. But the last twenty years have proved that gravity driveswon't work at all outside the Solar System. They function very poorlyeven when the ship is as far out as Jupiter's orbit."
"I thought the gravity drive on a ship was nearly the same as thegravital unit on the asteroid," said Jordan. "Why won't theyfunction?"
"I don't know why," answered Docchi impatiently. "If I did, I wouldn'tbe marooned on Handicap Haven. Arms or no arms, biocompensator or not,I'd be the most important scientist on Earth."
"With a multitude of pretty women competing for your affections,"added Anti.
"I think he'd settle for one. A certain one," suggested Jordan.
"Poor, unimaginative boy," said Anti. "In my youth...."
"We've heard about your youth," said Jordan.
"Youth and love are long since past, for both of you. Talk about themprivately if you want, but not now." Docchi glowered at them."Anyway," he resumed, "gravity drive is out. One time they had hopesfor it, but no longer. It should be able to drive this ship. Actually,its sole function is to provide an artificial gravity _inside_ theship, for passenger comfort. So rocket ship it is. That's what weasked for. The Medicouncil refused. Therefore we're going to appeal toa higher authority."
"Fine," said Anti. "How?"
"We've discussed it," answered Docchi. "Ultimately the Medicouncil isresponsible to the Solar Government. And in turn--"
"All right, I'm in favor of it," said Anti. "I just wanted to know."
"Mars is closer," continued Docchi. "But Earth is the seat ofgovernment. As soon as we get there...." He stopped suddenly andlistened.
Anti listened with him and waited until she could stand it no longer."What's the matter?" she asked. "I don't hear anything."
Jordan leaned forward in his seat and looked at the instrument panel."That's the trouble, Anti. You're not supposed to hear anything. Butyou should be able to _feel_ the vibration from the rocket exhaust, aslong as it's on."
"I don't feel anything, either."
"Yeah," said Jordan. He looked at Docchi. "There's plenty of fuel."
* * * * *
Momentum of the ship didn't cease when the rockets stopped, of course.They were still moving, but not very fast and not in the directionthey wanted to go. Gingerly Docchi tried out the magneslippers; hewas clumsy, but no longer helpless in the gravityless ship. He staredfutilely at the instruments as if he could wring more secrets than thepanel had electronic access to.
"It's mechanical trouble of some sort," he said uneasily. "There's oneway of finding out."
Before he could move, Anti was in the corridor that led away from thecontrol compartment.
"Stay here, Anti," he said. "I'll see what's wrong."
She reached nearly from the floor to the ceiling. She missed by scantinches the sides of the passageway. Locomotion was easy enough forher; turning around wasn't. Anti didn't turn.
"Look, honey," her voice floated back. "You brought me along for theride. That's fine, but I'm not satisfied with it. I want to earn myfare. You stay and run the ship because you know how and I don't. I'llfind out what's wrong."
"But you won't know what to do, Anti." There was no answer. "Allright," he said in defeat. "Both of us ought to go. Jordan, you stayat the controls."
Anti led the way because Docchi couldn't get around her. Determinedlyhe shuffled along. There was a trick to magneslippers that he hadnearly forgotten. Slowly it was coming back to him--shuffle instead ofstriding.
It was a dingy, poorly lighted passageway in an older ship. HandicapHaven definitely didn't rate the best equipment that was produced. Onone side was the hull of the ship; on the other, a few small cabins.None were occupied. Anti stopped. The passageway ended in a crosscorridor that led to the other side of the ship.
"We'd better check the stern rocket tubes," he said, still unable tosee around her. "Open it up and we'll take a look."
"I can't," said Anti. "There are handles, but the thing won't open.There's a red light, too. Does that mean anything?"
His heart sank. "It does. Don't try to open it. With your strength,you might be unlucky enough to do it."
"That's a man for you," said Anti sharply. "First he wants me to openit, and then he tells me not to."
"There's a vacuum in there. The combustion cap has been retracted.That's the only thing that will actuate the warning signal. You'd die
in a few seconds if you somehow managed to open the lock to the rocketcompartment."
"What are we waiting for? Let's get busy and fix it."
"Sure, fix it. You see, Anti, that didn't happen by itself. Someone,or something, was responsible."
"Who?"
"Did you see anyone when we were loading your tank in the ship?"
"Nothing. I heard Cameron shouting, a lot of noise. All I could seewas what was directly overhead. What does that have to do with it?"
"I think it has to do with a geepee. I thought they all droppedoutside. Maybe there was one that didn't."
"Why a geepee?" she asked blankly.
"In the first place, no man is strong enough to move the combustioncap. But if he should somehow manage to exert super-human effort, assoon as the cap cleared the tubes, rocket action would cease. The airin the compartment would exhaust into space and anyone in there woulddie."
"So we have a