A. Bertram Chandler - The Ship From Outside

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THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE

Scanned by Aristotle

it was on Stree that Calver, Master of the star-tramp Rimfire, received the news. He was in his day

cabin at the time and he and Jane Calver, who was both his wife and his Catering Officer, were trying to

enter-tain the large, not unhandsome lizard who acted as Rim Runners' local agent. It had been heavy

going; the saurians of Stree are avid for new knowledge and delight in long-winded and woolly

philosophical dis-cussions. Both Jane and Calver tried hard not to show their relief when there was a

sharp rapping at the cabin door.

"Excuse me, Treeth," Calver said.

"Most certainly, Captain," replied the agent. "Doubtless one of your officers bears tidings of great

import."

"I doubt it," said Jane Calver, with a slight shrug of her shapely shoulders. "It'll be no more than some

minor problem of stowage, or something."

"Or something," agreed her husband. He raised his voice. "Come in."

167

168

A. BERTRAM CHANDLER

The agent, who had been sitting on the deck, rose gracefully to his feet, his long tail skimming the

after-noon tea crockery on the low coffee table with a scant millimeter of clearance. Jane, when the

expected crash failed to eventuate, heaved an audible sigh of relief. Treeth looked at Calver and grinned,

showing all his needle teeth. Calver said nothing but wished that a childish sense of humor did not, as it so

often and too often does, go hand in hand with super in-telligence.

Levine, the little Psionic Radio Officer, bounced into the cabin. For a moment Calver thought that the

man had been drinking, then rejected the idea; Levine was well known for his abstemious ways. But

there are other euphoriacs than alcohol.

"Captain," he babbled, "I've picked up a mes-sage. An important one. Really important. Donaldson, the

P.R.O. at Port Farewell, must have hooked up every telepath and every dog's brain amplifier on the

whole damn planet to punch it through at this range."

"And what is this news?" asked Calver.

"The Thermopylae salvage case," cried Levine. "It's been settled at last."

"So Rim Runners get their new ship," said Calver. "So what?"

"To hell with Rim Runners!" exploded Levine. We get our whack-all of us who were in the poor old

Lorn Lady at the time."

Treeth sat down again. He showed that he was interested by forgetting to repeat his infantile joke with his

tail and the tea things. He said, in the well-modulated voice that held only the suggestion of a croak, the

merest hint of a hiss, "I trust that you will

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forgive my curiosity, Captain. But we, as you know, were utterly ignorant of commercial matters until

your Commodore Grimes made his first landing on our planet. What is salvage?"

"Putting it briefly," Calver told him, "roughly and

briefly, it's this. If you come across another ship in

distress you do all that you can to save life and prop-

erty. The lifesaving is, after all, it's own reward. It's

when property - the other vessel, or her cargo, or

both - is saved that the legal complications creep in.

* There are so many interested parties - the owners of

; the ships involved, the owners of the cargo and, last

j but not least, Lloyds of London, who carry the

insurance. ..."

i "Last but not least," corrected Jane, "the crew of

the ship that carries out the act of salvage, the people

I who've done all the work."

; "Anyhow," went on Calver, "the whole mess is

dumped on the lap of an Admiralty court. The court

i decides who gets paid how much for doing what."

> "And this Thermopylae?" asked Treeth. "We heard

| something about her from Captain Vickery, of the

k Sundowner. It happened shortly after Lorn Lady's last

\ visit here, if I remember rightly. I shall be obliged if

; you will apprise me of the relevant facts."

"All right," said Calver. "Thermopylae was - and, so far as I know, still is - one of the Trans-Galactic

Clippers, a large passenger liner. She was making a cruising voyage out along the Rim. She got into

trou-ble off Eblis ____ "

; "A most unpleasant world," said Treeth. "I have

seen pictures of it."

"As you say, a most unpleasant world. Anyhow, Thermopylae was putting herself into orbit around

170 A. BERTRAM CHANDLER

Eblis so that her passengers could admire the scenery and-things always seem to happen at the worst

pos-sible times-she blew her tube linings. As a result of this she was doomed to make a series of grazing

el-lipses until such time as she crashed to the surface. We, in Lorn Lady, picked up her distress calls and

just about busted a gut getting there in time. We tried to tow her into a stable orbit. We succeeded-but

wrecked our own ship in the process. Then Thermopylae used our tube linings to make temporary

repairs to her own reaction drive units. As you can see, it was the sort of case that brings joy to the

hearts of the lawyers and large wads of folding mon-ey into their pockets; in addition to the

straight-forward salvage there was the sacrifice of one ship to save the other."

"And you have, at last, been rewarded by the owners of Thermopylae?" asked Treeth.

"So it would appear," answered Calver.

"And how!" cried Levine, who had been waiting for a chance to get a word in. "And by Lloyds! A cool

three quarters of a million to Lorn Lady's crew! I haven't got the individual figures yet, but ..."

"This," said Jane, "calls for a celebration. Luckily we're well stocked with liquor. ..."

The agent got to his feet again. "And now I must depart," he said gently. "For me, a stranger, an

out-sider, to be present at your thanksgiving would not be fitting. But there is one thing about you beings

that never ceases to mystify me-the need that you feel to deaden the effects of the exhilaration that comes

with good news by the ingestion of alcohol. ..." He paused. "Good afternoon to you, Captain and

Captain's lady, and to you, Mr. Levine.

THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE 171

I am sufficiently familiar with your vessel to be able to find my own way ashore.

"Good afternoon-and my sincere congratula-tions."

There was Calver, tall and gangling, and there was Jane Calver who, as "Calamity Jane" Arlen, had been

Catering Officer of the lost Lorn Lady. Calver sat at the head of the table in Rim/ire's saloon and Jane,

tall and slim, and with the silver streak in her glossy dark hair gleaming like a slender coronet, sat at his

right hand. Very much Captain and Captain's lady they had been when the other officers had been with

them, the officers who had not served in Lorn Lady. But now these others had retired to their several

cabins and the party was for Lorn Lady's people only.

There was the painfully thin Bendix, with the few remaining strands of black hair brushed carefully over

his shining scalp, who had been Interstellar Drive Engineer in T.G. Clippers before coming out to the Rim

for reasons known only to himself. There was Renault, the Rocket King, swarthy, always in need of

depilation, Reaction Drive Engineer-he, like Jane and Calver, was out of the Interstellar Transport

Commission's ships. There Was little Brentano, in charge of Electronic Radio Com-munications, highly

competent and capable of stand-ing a watch in the control room or in either of the two engine rooms

should the need arise. There was Levine, another small man and also competent-ex-tremely so-but only

in his own field. There was old Doc Malone, looking like a jovial monk who had, somehow, put on a

uniform in mistake for his habit.

The decanter was passed around the table.

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"A toast," said Bendix harshly. "A toast. We'll drink to you, Calver. It's thanks to you that this good

fortune has come our way."

"No," demurred the Captain. "No. We'll drink to us, to all of us. We were all in it together, and we all of

us did"our best." He raised his glass. "To us," he repeated quietly.

"And to hell with the Rim!" Brentano almost shouted. "To hell with Lorn and Faraway, Ultimo and Thule

and the whole damned Eastern Circuit!"

"And are you going home, Brentano?" asked Doc Malone. "And are you going home? To the warm

Cluster Worlds, to the swarming suns and their at-tendant planets? Won't you feel confined, shut in?

Won't you miss the empty sky, the call of it, the mys-tery of it? Won't you miss this freemasonry of

ours?"

"And what about you, Doc?" countered Brentano. "Aren't you going home?"

The old man was silent for what could have been only seconds, but it seemed longer. He said at last, very

softly, ". . . and home there's no returning."

"I'm afraid he's right," murmured Bendix, break-ing the sudden silence.

"He is right," Renault said.

And Calver remembered how he and Jane had stood in the Captain's cabin aboard Thermopylae, and

how her hand had found his, and how he had said, "But we belong on the Rim."

He said it again.

"So we belong on the Rim," said Jane briskly. "We seem to be in complete agreement on that point, with

the exception of friend Brentano. ..."

"Why make an exception of me?" demanded the Radio Officer plaintively. "I'm as much a Rim Runner as

any of you."

THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE 173

"But you said-." began Jane.

"What I say isn't always what I think, or feel." His face clouded. "Old Doc put it in a nutshell. And home

there's no returning-not unless we want to face what we ran away from, not unless we want to reopen

old wounds. All the same, there must be more in life than running the Eastern Circuit."

"What if we ran it on our own behalf?" asked Calver.

"You mean . . .?" queried Renault.

"What I said. With what we've got we shall be able to buy an obsolescent Epsilon Class tramp and have

enough left over for the refit. We know the trade, and there's quite a deal of goodwill on the Eastern

Circuit planets that's ours rather than the Company's."

"The Sundown Line didn't last long," quibbled Levine.

"Perhaps not," said Bendix, "but they didn't lose any money when.Rim Runners bought them out."

"It was never in my thoughts," said old Doc Malone, "that I should be a shipowner in the evening of my

days."

"You aren't one yet," remarked Brentano.

"Perhaps not. But the idea is not without its charm. Now, just supposing that we do buy ourselves a ship,

what do we call ourselves?"

"The Outsiders," said Calver.

calver was relieved that it was not necessary to make a voyage all the way to Terra to pick up a suit-able

ship. The return to Terra would have brought back too many memories-for Jane as well as for himself.

When he had come out to the Rim he had said goodbye to Earth, and he liked his farewells to be

permanent.

It was Levine who, spending his watches gossiping with his opposite numbers in ships within telepathic

range, learned that the Commission's Epsilon Aurigae had been delivered to Nova Caledon for sale to a

small local company, and that the sale had broken down. It was Levine who succeeded in getting in

touch with the P.R.O. at Port Caledon and per-suading him to pass word to the Commission's agent

there that buyers would shortly be on the way.

The stickiest part of it all, of course, was the mass resignation of all Rimfire's senior officers when she set

down at Port Faraway. Commodore Grimes-back

174

mt SHIP FROM OUTSIDE 175

in harness as Astronautical Superintendent after his exploratory jaunts-stormed and blustered,

threat-ened to sue Calver and the others for breach of con-tract. Then, when he saw that it was

hopeless, he softened.

"You're all good men," he said. "Yes-and one good woman. I don't like to see you go. But, with all that

money coming to you, you'd be fools to stay on the Rim."

"But we are staying on the Rim, sir," said Calver quietly.

"What? If you intend to live on the interest of your salvage money, Captain, there are far better places to

do it."

"Commodore," said Calver, "you're an astronaut, not a businessman. I'm talking to you now as one

spaceman to another, and I'll be grateful if you re-spect the confidence. We intend to set up shop as

shipowners. You've often said yourself that there's a grave shortage of tonnage on the Eastern Circuit."

Grimes laughed. "You know, Calver, if I were in your shoes I'd probably be doing the same myself. But I

warn you, there won't always be a shortage of ships, Rim Runner ships, out here."

"But there is now," said Calver.

"There is now. We may be willing to charter you. But when there's no longer a shortage. ..."

"You'll run us out of space," finished Calver.

"Too right," promised Grims. "We will. . . Meanwhile, Calver, the best of luck. Let me know when

you're due back out here and I'll see what I can do for you-provided that it doesn't conflict with Rim

Runners' interests, of course."

"Thank you, sir," said Calver, shaking hands.

So they booked passage for Nova Caledon, all of them, making the lengthy, roundabout voyage that was

inevitable in this poorly serviced sector of the Galaxy. From Faraway to Elsinore they traveled in the

Shakespearean Lines' Miranda, and from Elsinore to van Diemen's Planet in the Commission's ' Delta

Sagittarius. On van Diemen's Planet they were lucky enough to find that the Waverley Royal Mail's

Countess of Arran had been delayed by engineroom re-pairs, otherwise they would have been obliged

to wait a month on that world for the next connection.

At last they dropped down through the inevitable misty drizzle to Port Caledon. Calver, as a ship-master,

could have enjoyed the freedom of the Countess's control room, but he preferred to stay in the

observation lounge with his own officers and, of course, with Jane.

There was, they saw, only one other ship in the port-obviously an Epsilon Class vessel.

"Ours," Jane murmured.

"Ours," repeated Bendix.

"She looks a mess," said Brentano glumly.

"No more a mess than the poor old Lorn Lady was," said Bendix.

"She's a ship," said Calver. "She'll do. She'll have to do."

"She's our ship," stated Jane firmly. "Of course she'll do."

Conversation lapsed as they settled down into the acceleration chairs, adjusting their seat belts. Calver

felt the apprehension that he always felt when he was traveling as passenger, knew that the others were

feeling it too. It was not that'he was a better ship handler than Countess of Arran's Captain, it was just

THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE 177

that unless he knew what was happening he was acutely unhappy.

There was the usual slight jar and quiver, the sub-dued creaking and whispering of the shock absorbing

springs and cylinders. There was the usual spate of instruction and information from the bulkhead

speakers. And, shortly thereafter, there were the dragging customs and immigration formalities, the filling

in of forms and the answering of questions. And then, when this was finished, there was the problem of

the disposal of their not inconsiderable baggage. The Master of the Countess was very helpful and

introduced Calver to the Deputy Port Captain who, in his turn, arranged temporary stowage in the

spaceport's gear store and also put through a call to the Commission's agent.

When the agent arrived,' Calver and his people were already aboard the ship and had commenced their

inspection of her instruments and machinery. And she was, Calver had decided, a good ship. She was

overage, and obsolescent, but the Commission looks after its vessels well. After the weeks of neglect at

Port Caledon there was much to be done before she would be habitable, but there was no doubt as to

her spaceworthiness.

Finally Calver stood with the agent and Jane in the control room.

"You're getting a good ship here, Captain," said the agent. "It was lucky for you that Caledonian

Spaceships folded before they ever got off the ground."

"I know," said Calver.

"There's one thing that I don't like about her," said Jane.

"And what is that, Mrs. Calver?"

"Her name. As you know, most ships have fancy names and their crews are able to twist them round into

something amusing and affectionate. But Epsilon Aurigae ..."

"Don't listen to her," said Calver. "In any case, we shall be changing the name."

"Of course," agreed the agent. "And what are you calling her?"

"The Outsider," said Jane.

"And how in the galaxy can you twist that into something affectionate and amusing?" asked the puzzled

agent.

So The Outsider she was.

When the new, shining, golden letters of her new name had been welded to the sharp prow-a

roman-ticizing of the drab legalities involved in changing name and port of registry-Jane went up in the

cage to the top of the scaffolding and there, with the others watching from below-smashed a bottle of

cham-pagne over the gleaming characters. And then, with this last ritual performed, The Outsider was

ready for space. She was fueled and provisioned. Hydroponic tanks and yeast and tissue culture vats

were function-ing perfectly. She had, even, already begun to earn her keep. Her cargo compartments

were tightly stowed with casks of whisky and bales of tweed for the Rim Worlds.

Manning the ship had been the biggest problem.

There is no shortage of spacemen at the Centre; neither, oddly enough, is the shortage really acute out on

the Rim. It is on halfway worlds such as Nova Caledon that it is hard to find qualified personnel. In the

end, however, Calver was able to engage a Chief

THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE 179

Officer of sorts, a drunken derelict who had missed his ship on Nova Caledon. He found a Seco.nd

.Officer -a Nova Caledonian who, tired of space, had come ashore to raise sheep and who now, tired of

sheep, was willing to make the voyage out to the Rim pro-vided that repatriation was guaranteed. Then

there were two junior professors-one of physics and the other of mathematics-from the University of

Nova Caledon who wanted to see something of the Galaxy and who were willing to sign on as junior

engineers. There were no pursers available-but Jane and the two communications officers would be able

to cope with that side of things quite easily.

After the brief christening ceremony Jane returned to ground level and the scaffolding was wheeled away.

Slowly, with dignity, a parade in miniature, The Outsider's people marched up the ramp to the air-lock,

Calver in the lead. Once inside the ship, they dispersed to their stations. Spaceport Control gave the final

clearance, the conventional good wishes. Renault's rockets coughed and sighed gently, then gave tongue

to the familiar screaming roar. The Out-sider lifted, slowly at first, delicately balanced atop the

lengthening column of her incandescent exhaust. Faster and faster she climbed through the misty skies of

Nova Caledon until the pearly overcast was be-neath her and ahead of her was the star-spangled

blackness of space.

Once she was well clear of the atmosphere Calver put her through her paces. She was a good ship and

responded sweetly to her controls. She was a good ship and, with one exception, she had a good crew

to serve her. The two scientists made up in intelligence and enthusiasm for what they lacked in practical

en-

iou A. BCKIKAAA (.HANDLER

gineering experience. The ex-sheepman demon-strated that he had forgotten very little about ships in his

years ashore. Of the capabilities of the old crew of Lorn Lady there was, of course, no doubt. The Mate

was the weak link in the chain; his reactions were painfully slow and he seemed to have no interest

whatever in his duties. Calver decided to have Bren-tano rig up duplicate, tell-tale instruments in the

Master's cabin at the first opportunity. There is little risk of mishap to a well-found, well-organized ship in

deep space-but on the rare occasions that mishaps do occur they are liable to be disastrous unless the

officer of the watch is alert. Calver also made up his mind to instruct Jane to keep Maudsley's liquor

ra-tion to the bare minimum and to impress upon old Doc Malone not to give the Mate any of his

home-made Irish whisky. Furthermore, he would read the Riot Act to the Mate on the first suitable

occasion.

The first thing to be done, however, was to set course for the Rim. Her rocket drive silent, The

Out-sider rotated around her humming gyroscopes to the correct heading, checked and steadied. For

the last time the rockets flared and she pushed off into the black infinity, the pale-gleaming sphere that

was Nova Caledon dwindling astern of her. There was free fall again as the Reaction Drive was cut,

there was the familiar-yet never familiar-gut-and-mind-wrenching twist, the uncanny feeling of deja vu as

the Mannschenn Drive built up its temporal precession fields.

And then, outside the control room ports, the hard, brilliant stars flickered and faded, and were re-placed

by the hypnotically coiling whorls of lumi-nosity, the shifting colors known only to those who

have made the Long Drop, who have ridden to the stars on a crazy contraption of precessing gyroscopes

through the warped fabric of the continuum.

time-objective and subjective-passed.

It passed fast and not unpleasantly for most of The Outsider's people. There was much to do, many

things that were not quite right and that could be, and were tinkered with until they were brought to the

state of perfection that gladdens the heart of an effi-cient officer-especially an efficient officer who is also

an owner. CappeH, the Second Mate, and Lloyd and Ritter, the two junior engineers, had no shares in

the ship but were infected, nonetheless, by the gener-al enthusiasm. Maudsley was the odd man out, the

malcontent. He refused to mix with the others, bolt-ing his meals in silence and then retiring immediate-ly

to his own cabin.

Calver discussed him with Jane. He said. "I'm

182

THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE 183

sorry that we had to ship that unsociable bastard. Unluckily, Cappell has only a Second Pilot's ticket, and

Maudsley's a Master Astronaut. Even so. ..."

"We were stuck on Nova Caledon until we could find two certificated officers," said Jane. "We had to

take what we could get. In any case, Maudsley's im-proving."

"Is he?" asked Calver. "Is he? I can't say that I've noticed it. He's as much a mournful bloodhound

walking on two legs as he was when we signed him on. More so, in fact. Then he was able to maintain

the normal alcoholic blood content, and it did give him a little sparkle."

"But he is improving," insisted Jane. "He's look-ing healthier. He's putting on weight."

"All right, all right. We know that you're a good cook. It's his manner that I don't like."

"And I didn't like yours when I first met^oM. Re-member? There you were, an ex-Chief Officer out of

the Commission's big ships, joining a scruffy little Rim Runners' tramp as Second Mate and hating ev-ery

moment of it. After all, Derek, Maudsley has come down in the world too. He has sailed as Master. ..."

"And he lost his ship, and was very lucky not to lose his Certificate."

"You lost your ship."

"In rather different circumstances, my dear. And nobody-neither Rim Runners nor ourselves-lost out on

the deal."

"What about Lloyds' and Trans-Galactic Clip-pers?" quibbled Jane.

"They can afford it," Calver told her. He carefully filled and lit his pipe. "Anyhow, we shall be getting

184

A. BERTRAM CHANDLER

rid of our Mr. Maudsley as soon as we make Port Faraway."

"Even though you are Master and part owner," she flared, "there's no need to be so hard. With the

exception of Cappell and Lloyd and Ritter-and, I suppose, Levine-we're all of us outsiders here,

throw-outs from the Centre and the big ships, out-siders on the Rim. Maudsley's like us-or, if you pre-fer

it, like what we used to be. He's had his troubles, and he's running away from them, and he's just about

hit rock bottom. This is his chance of re-habilitation. Would you deny it to him?"

"This," said Calver evenly, "happens to be a ship-ping company-even though it is only a one ship

company-not a charitable organization. When and if Mr. Maudsley stops behaving like a first trip cadet

with a bad fit of the sulks and starts behaving like a Chief Officer, I'll consider keeping him on. Until then.

"I still think that you're far too harsh," she told him.

"And I still think," he said, "that I have the best interests of the ship and her owners at heart."

That was all that was said then-but more, much more, was said later. That was when Maudsley- who

possessed other attributes of the bloodhound beside the appearance-discovered old Doc Malone's

secret cache of whisky and drank himself into insensibility. Calver's first reaction was an-noyance, his

second was disgust. He did not start to get worried until Malone came to see him in the con-trol room

where, because of the incapacitation of the Chief Officer, Calver was keeping a watch.

me anir i-k<->/v\ vjuiaiuc

"Captain," said Malone, "we've a very sick man on our hands."

"Doctor," said Calver coldly, "we have a drunken, irresponsible wastrel on our hands and I, personally,

shall see to it that he is first out of the airlock when we reach port."

"He'll be first out of the airlock all right," said Malone, "but it'll be long before we reach port."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that he's dying. He was as weak as a kit-ten when we pushed off from Port Caledon and this last

bout, coming as it did after a period of enforced abstinence, has been too much for his system. "

"In this day and age?" scoffed Calver.

"Yes. In this day and age. In any day and age all that the physician has ever done has been to help the

patient to recover. When there's no will to live, what can any doctor do? Jane's with him now, but I think

that you'd better come along yourself."

"Wait till I call Brentano up to Control," said Calver, reaching for the telephone. And then, when the

indispe'nsable little Radio Officer was in charge of the watch, he followed Malone to the officers' flat.

Maudsley's cabin reeked of vomit and 'decay and stale liquor. Maudsley was strapped in his bunk and

Jane, quietly and efficiently, was cleaning the air of the disgusting globules of fluid with an absorbent cloth.

She looked around as her husband and the doctor entered. She said, "He's unconscious again." She

grimaced. "Just as well - although I'm sure that there's nothing left in his stomach now."

Calver looked at Maudsley. The man no longer re-sembled a bloodhound. He no longer resembled any-

ioo A. btKIKAM CHANDLER

thing living. His head was a skull over which dirty white parchment had been stretched. The rise and fall

of his chest was barely perceptible.

"He talked," said Jane briefly. "He had a lucid moment, and he talked. He told me that he was run-ning

away. But-and this was the odd part-he said that he was running from the Rim."

Calver saw Maudsley's eyes flicker open, saw the dry lips twitch, heard the creaking, almost inaudible

whisper. "Yes, damn you all. From the Rim, and from the Outsiders. If I'd been sober, I'd never have

signed on aboard your stinking ship. You're taking me back, you bastard, but I'll not go." His voice rose

to a shriek. "I'll not go! You can't force me." He laughed then, wildly and frighteningly, and his voice

dropped again, to a low, confidential whisper. "There's wealth there, and power and knowledge, and it

was almost in my grasp, but I was afraid. I'm still afraid. If you take me back to the Rim I shall know, all

the time, that it's out there, waiting for me, and I'll be afraid to go and find it again, and that will be the

worst of all, knowing that it's there. . ." He looked at Calver and Jane and Malone with burning, pleading

eyes. "You must see that. Even you must see that. . ."

"What is it that's out there?" asked Calver quietly.

A cunning expression flickered over Maudsley's ravaged face. "I'll see you in hell before I tell you. It's

mine, mine! If I told you, you might get past the Out-siders and then it would be yours. It wouldn't be

fair. I lost my ship, and I lost my commission. I lost the Polar Queen and that was the price I paid. Yes I

paid, and I paid too much, and I'm still paying. But I shall go back to the Rim when I'm ready, and not

before,

THE SHIP FROM OUTSIDE 187

i and I'll go back Outside to find again what I've paid for, but I shan't go until / want to go. You can't car-

s ry me back against my will. You can't. Doctor, tell

I him that he can't. Tell him!"

{ "You'd better leave him to me," said Malone to

Calver. "He's frightened of you, and he hates you." "What about getting Levine in here?" whispered

Calver.

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THESHIPFROMOUTSIDEScannedbyAristotle1itwasonStreethatCalver,Masterofthestar-trampRimfire,receivedthenews.HewasinhisdaycabinatthetimeandheandJaneCalver,whowasbothhiswifeandhisCateringOfficer,weretryingtoentertainthelarge,notunhandsomelizardwhoactedasRimRunners'localagent.Ithadbeenheavygoing;thesauri...

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A. Bertram Chandler - The Ship From Outside

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