Harry Harrison - To the Stars Trilogy

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Harrison, Harry - To the Stars Trilogy.txt
HOMEWORLD
Chapter One
"It's a monstrosity, a bastard combination of antique piping, worn valves-and modern
electronic technology. The whole thing should be blown up and built over from
scratch."
"Not that bad, your honor, I think, not really that bad." Radcliffe rubbed d his
reddened nose with the back of his hand, looked up guiltily when he saw it streaked
and wet. The tall engineer beside him had not noticed; Radcliffe wiped it
surreptitiously on his trouser leg. "It works, we produce a fine spirit..."
"It works~but just barely." Jan Kulozik was tired and there was a sharp edge to his
voice. "All of the packing glands should be replaced at once or it will blow itself
up without any help from me. Look at those leaks, puddles of the stuff."
"I'll have it cleaned up at once, your honor."
"That's not what I mean. Stop the leaks in the first place. Do something
constructive, man. That's an order."
'As you say, so shall it be done."
Radcliffe lowered his head obediently, trembling. Jan looked down on the man's
balding head, the dusting of dandruff on the fringe of oily hair, and could feel
only disgust. These people never learned. They could not think for themselves and
even when ordered to do the correct thing made a mess of it half of the time. This
manager was about as efficient as the collection of ancient fractioning columns,
fermenting vats, and rusty pipes that made up this vegetable-fuel plant. It seemed a
waste of time to install the automation controls.
Cold winter light from the tall windows barely outlined the dark mechanical shapes
inside the building; spotlights made pools of yellow across the floor. One of the
workmen shuffled into view, paused, and groped through his pockets. The motion
caught Jan's eye.
"That man-stop!" he shouted.
The command was sudden, startling. The workman had not known the engineer was there.
He dropped the match even before he had lit the joint-and it fell into the pool of
liquid at his feet. Sudden blue flame leaped high.
Jan shouldered the man aside roughly as he jumped for the fire extinguisher, tearing
it from the bracket, pounding the release as he ran. The workman was stamping wildly
at the pool of burning alcohol which only served to spread the flame.
Foam coughed out of the extinguisher's mouth and Jan directed it down, around. The
fire was out in a moment, but the workman's trousers were smoldering. Jan whipped
the foam across the man's legs and then, in a fit of anger, up his legs, chest,
splashing and coating his face with a white blanket.
"You're an absolute fool, a total fool!"
Jan turned off the valve and threw the extinguisher down. The workman was gasping
and wiping his eyes; Jan looked on coldly.
"You know smoking is forbidden in here. You must have been told often enough. And
you're standing right under a no smoking sign."
"I... I don't read so well, your honor." He choked and spat out the bitter liquid.
"Not so well, or probably not at all. You're fired, get out of here."
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"No, please, your honor, don't say that," the man wailed, the pain in his eyes
forgotten, his mouth a gaping o of despair. "I've worked hard-my family-the dole for
years,..
"The dole for life," Jan said coldly, the anger drained away as he looked at the man
before him, on his knees in the foam. "Just be happy that I'm not preferring
sabotage charges."
The situation was almost impossible. Jan stamped away, unaware of the staring eyes
of the manager and the silent workmen. Just impossible. But better in the control
room. Much better. He could almost relax, smile, as he looked at the shining order
of the system he had installed. Cable conduits snaked in from all sides, merging and
joining together at the control unit. He pressed the keys on the combination lock in
sequence and the cover swung open. Silent, smooth, and perfect. The microcomputer in
the heart of the machine ran everything with infinite precision. The terminal hung
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in its holster from his belt. He unclipped it and plugged it into the computer,
tapped out a message on the keys. The screen lit up in instant response. No
problems, not here. Though of course that wasn't the case elsewhere in the plant.
When he asked for a general condition report the lines of readout went marching by.
VALVE UNIT 376-L-9 LEAKING
VALVE UNIT 389-p-6 IN NEED OF REPLACEMENT
VALVE UNIT 429-p-8 LEAKING
It was all thoroughly depressing and he cleared the screen with a quick command~
Behind him Radcliffe's voice spoke quietly, respectfully from the open door.
Please excuse me, Engineer Kulozik, but it is about Simmons, the man you fired. He's
a good worker."
"I don't think he's very good." The anger was drained now and Jan wanted to be
reasonable about this. But firm. "There will be plenty of people queuing up for his
job. Any one of them will do it as well~or better."
"He studied for years, your honor. Years. To get off the dole. That shows
something."
"Lighting that match showed even more. I'm sorry. I'm not a cruel man. But I'm
thinking of you and the others here. What would you do if he burned down your jobs.
You're management, Radcliffe, and that's the way you must think. It may be hard, and
look wrong from the Qutside, but it is the only thing to do. You agree, don't you?"
There was a slight hesitation, but the answer came.
"Of course. You're right. I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll get him out of here now. We
can't have his kind around."
"That's the way to do it."
A soft buzz and a flashing red light from the control unit drew Jan's attention;
Radcliffe hesitated in the doorway~ The computer had found something wrong and
wanted Jan to know about it, displaying the information.
VALVE UNIT 928-R-9 IS NOW INOPERATIVE IN PERMANENTLE OPEN CONDITION. IT HAS BEEN
ISOLATED FOR REPLACEMENT.
"928-R. Sounds familiar." Jan tapped the information into his personal computer and
nodded. "I thought so. That thing was supposed to have been replaced last week. Was
the job completed?"
"I'll have to check the records." Radcliffe was pale.
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"Don't bother. We both know it wasn't done. So get out of here and get a valve and
we will do the job now."
Jan himself detached the motor drive unit, using a power wrench on the recalcitrant
lugnuts. They were heavy with rust. Typical. It had apparently been too much effort
to put some oil on them before they had been tightened. He stood aside and watched
closely while the sweating proles struggled to get the old valve off, splashing
through the runnels of liquid that ran from the pipe end. When the new unit had been
fitted and tightened into place under his attentive eye-no second-rate job this
time-he bolted on the motor drive. The work was done efficiently without any extra
chatter and the workmen picked up their tools and left as soon as it was finished.
Jan went back to control to open the blocked section and get the plant functioning
again. Once more he had the condition report scroll by, then had a hard copy made.
When it had emerged from the printer he dropped into a chair to go through it
carefully, ticking off the items that seemed to need the most urgent attention. He
was a tall, almost gangling man, in his late twenties. Women thought him good
looking-a number had told him so but he did not think it particularly important.
They were nice but they had their place. Which was immediately after microcircuit
engineering. Whenever he read he frowned so that an almost permanent crease was
stamped between his eyes. He frowned even more now as he went through the list a
second time-then burst into a wide grin.
"Done-just about done!"
What should have been a simple job here at the Walsoken Plant had stretched on and
on. It had been autumn when he had arrived to make the control installation, along
with Buchanan, an hydraulics engineer. But Buchanan had had the bad luck-good luck
really-to be laid low by an attack of appendicitis and had been spirited away by
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ambulance copter never to return. Nor had his replacement ever arrived. Jan had
found himself supervIsing the mechanical installation in addition to his own
electronics and autumn had stretched into winter with no end in sight.
It was in sight now. All of the major installations and repairs had been done; the
plant was up and running. And he was going to get out. For a few weeks at least-and
the manager would just have to fend for himself.
"Radcliffe, get in here. I have some interesting news for you."
The words cracked from every loudspeaker in the building, rolled and echoed. Within
seconds there was the sound of running footsteps and the panting manager came
hurrying into the room.
"Yes... your honor?"
"I'm leaving. Today. Don't gape, man, I thought you would be pleased at the
prospect. This antique vodka works is on line and should keep on running if you take
care of all the maintenance on this list. I've hooked the computer through the
network to fuelconcent where the operation will be monitored. Any problems will
bring someone here fast. But I don't expect any problems, do I, Radcliffe?"
"No, sir, of course not. Do our best, thank you, slr.
"I hope so. And may your best be a little bit better than it has been in the past.
I'll be back as soon as I am able, to check operation and to see your list of
completion. Now-unless there is anything else-I am going to get out of this place."
"No. Nothing, sir.
"Good. See that it stays that way.
Jan waved the manager out as he unclipped his termlnal and computer and stowed them
in his case. Eagerly, for the first time it seemed, he pulled on the fleece-lined
coat and driving gloves. One stop at the hotel to pack his bag and that was that! He
whistled between his teeth as he slammed out of the door into the late afternoon
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gloom. The ground was frozen hard as rock and there was the smell of snow in the
air. His car, red and shining, was the only touch of color in the drab landscape.
Blighted fields stretched away on all sides in the flat landscape, silent under the
drab gray sky. The fuel cell fired as soon as he turned the key; the heater warmed
the interior with a rush of air. He drove slowly over the frozen ruts of the yard
and out onto the paved road.
This was former fen country, now drained and plowed. But some of the old canals were
still there; Wisbech was still an inland port. He would be glad to see the last of
it. Packing took ten minutes, he believed in traveling light, and the manager held
the front door and bowed him out and wished him a safe journey.
Just outside of town the motorway began. The police at the entrance saluted and he
returned them an airy wave. Once on the automated road network he switched over to
automatic, giving LONDON EXIT 74 as his destination. This information flashed from
the transmitter under his car to the cable buried beneath the surface, to the
network computer which routed him and sent hack the command to the car computer in
microseconds. There was a slow surge of acceleration by the electric wheel motors up
to the standard 240 K.R.H., until the landscape became a blur in the gathering dusk.
Jan had no desire to look out at it. He unlocked his seat and swiveled it about to
face the rear. There was whiskey ready in the bar compartment and water at the touch
of a button. The television came on to a colorful and loud production of Peter
Grimes. Jan enjoyed it for a minute, admiring the soprano not only for her voice-and
tried to think whom she reminded him of.
'Aileen Petut of course!" He had a warm glow of memory; if she were only free now.
She had little enough to do since her divorce. She should jump at the chance to see
him. To think was to act. He punched for phone, then tapped her number quickly into
the keys. It rang only twice before she answered.
"Jan. How nice of you to call."
"How nice of you to answer. Do you have camera trouble?" He pointed at his own dark
screen.
"No, just blanked for privacy. You caught me in the sauna.
The screen came to life as she said this and she laughed at his expression. "Never
saw a nude woman before?"
"If I have I've forgotten. They don't have women where I've been. At least none
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glowing and wet like you.
Honestly, Aileen, I could almost weep for joy. You're the most beautiful
sight in the world."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
'And you're coming with me. Are you free now?"
'Always free, my love, but it depends on what you have in mind."
"Some sunshine. Some hot sun and warm ocean and good food, a case of champagne and
you. What do you say?"
"I say it sounds unspeakably lovely. My bank account or yours?"
"My treat. I deserve something after this winter in the wilderness. I know this
little hotel, right out in the desert on the shore of the Red Sea. If we leave in
the morning we can get there...
"No details, please, my sweet. I'm going to sink back into my sauna and wait there
for you. Don't be too long."
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She broke the connection with the last word and Jan laughed out loud. Yes, life was
going to be a lot better. He drained the glass of scotch and poured another one.
The frozen fen country was already gone from his mind.
He did not know that the man he had fired, Simmons, never would go back on the dole.
He committed suicide just about the time Jan reached London.
Two
The circular shadow of the great flying ship drifted slowly over the blue surface of
the Mediterranean far below, across the beach and onto the desert beyond. The
electric motors were silent, the only sound the whir of the propellers. They were
tiny, almost lost from sight under the thick, saucerlike form of the Beachy Head,
for their only work was to propel her through the air. Lift was supplied by the
helium bags concealed beneath the taut outer skin. The dirigible was a superior form
of transportation with very low fuel consumption.
Her cargo consisted of great bundles of heavy black pipes slung beneath the body.
Tonnes of them. But the Beochy Head carried passengers as well, in cabins in the
bow.
"The view is incredible," Aileen said, sitting before the angled window that made up
the entire front wall of their cabin, watching the desert move by below. Jan,
stretched out on the bed, nodded in silent agreement-but was looking at her. She was
combing her shoulder-length coppery-red hair, her raised arms lifting her bare
breasts, her back arched and lovely.
"Incredible," he said, and she laughed and put down the comb to come and sit beside
him and kiss him.
"Marry me?" Jan asked.
"Thank you, no. My divorce isn't a month old. I want to enjoy my freedom for a while
yet."
"I'll ask you next month."
"Do that,.." The chiming bell cut her off and the steward's voice broke the silence
of the cabin.
'All passengers. We will be landing in Suez in thirty minutes' time. Please have
your bags ready for the porters. Thirty minutes' time. It has been our pleasure to
have you aboard the Beachy Head and in the name of Captain Wetherby and the crew I
want to thank you for flying British Airways."
A half an hour and look at my hair! And I haven't started packing yet...
"There's no hurry. And no one will throw you out of the cabin. This is a holiday,
remember? I'm going to get dressed and see about the luggage. I'll meet you on the
ground."
"Can't you wait for me?"
"I'll be waiting-but outside. I want to see what kind of drilling gear they are
unloading."
"You care more about all those filthy pipes than you do about me.
'Absolutely correct-how did you find out? But this is a momentous occasion. If the
thermal extraction techniques work, we may be pumping oil again. For the first time
in over two-hundred years.
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"Oil? From where?" Aileen's voice was distant; she was more interested in getting
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the thin blouse over her head.
"The ground. It used to be there, a lot of it, petroleum. Pumped dry by the
Wreckers, oxidized and wasted just like everything else. A really beautiful source
of chemical hydrocarbons that they just burned up."
"I haven't the slightest idea of what you are talking about. I always failed
history."
"See you on the ground."
When Jan stepped out of the lift at the foot of the mooring tower, he felt as though
he had walked through the open door of an oven. Even in the middle of winter the sun
had a bite unknown in the north. After his exile in the frozen fens it felt good.
Bundles of pipes were being lowered now by the cable hoists. Drifting down slowly,
bobbing slightly under the buoyant airship, dropping again to clang onto the waiting
flatbed truck. For a moment Jan thought of applying for permission to visit the well
site-then changed his mind. No. Holiday first. Perhaps on the way back. For the time
being he must cleanse his mind of the glories of science and technology, and instead
explore the more fascinating glories of Aileen Pettit.
When she appeared from the lift they strolled to the customs building hand in hand,
enjoying the feel of the sun on their skin. A solemn, dark-skinned policeman stood
guard at the customs counter and watched while Jan inserted his ID card in the slot.
"Welcome to Egypt," the machine said in a contralto female voice. "We hope that your
visit will be an enjoyable one..'. Mr. Kulozik. Would you be so kind as to press
your thumb to the plate. Thank you. You may remove your card now. There is a message
for you. Will you please proceed to exit four where you will be met. Next please."
The computer dealt with Aileen just as swiftly. While the ritual welcome was being
spoken it checked her identity, verifying with her thumb print that she was the
person referred to on the ID card. Then making sure that the trip was an approved
one.
They were met at the exit by a perspiring, sunburnt man in a tight blue uniform.
"Mr. Kulozik and party? I'm from the Magna Palace, your honor. I have your bags
aboard and we can leave when you are ready." His English was good, but he had an
accent that Jan could not place.
"V e'll go now.
The airport had been built at the water's edge and the small hovercraft sat on its
pad at the end of the slipway. The driver opened the door for them and they climbed
into the air-conditioned interi(~)r. There were a dozen seats, but they were the
only passengers In a moment the craft rose up on the blast of air, then drifted down
to the water and out onto it, picking up speed.
"We are now going south in the Gulf of Suez," the driver said. "On your left you
will see the Sinai Peninsula. Ahead, on your right, you will soon be able to see the
peak of Mount Gharib which is one-thousand, seven-hundred and twenty-three meters
high ...
"I've been here before," Jan said. "You can save the guided tour.
"Thank you, your honor."
"Jan, I wanted to hear it. I don't even know where we are?"
"Did you fail geography as well as history?"
"Don't be cruel."
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"Sorry. We'll be coming out into the Red Sea soon and making a sharp left turn into
the Gulf of Aqaba where the sun always shines and it is always hot, except in the
summer when it is even hotter. And right in the middle of all that lovely sun and
water is the Magna Palace where we are going. You aren't British, are you, driver?"
"No, your honor, South African."
"You're a long way from home.
'A continent away, 5~F."
"I'm thirsty," Aileen said.
"I'll get some drinks from the bar."
"I'll do that, your honor," the driver said, flicking onto automatic and jumping to
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his feet. "What will be your pleasure?"
"Whatever you suggest... I don't know your name.
"Piet, sir. There is cold beer and-"
'Just the thing. You too, Aileen?"
"Yes, thank you."
Jan drained half of the foaming glass and sighed. He was getting into the holiday
mood at last. "Have one yourself, Piet."
"I will. Very kind of you, sir.
Aileen looked closely at the driver, the blond hair and reddened skin, and sensed a
mystery. Though the man was polite his manners were not the rough ones of a prole's.
"I hate to admit it, Piet," she said, "but I have never heard of South Africa."
"Few have," he admitted. "The city of South Africa isn't very big, just a few
thousand whites in a sea of blacks. We're a fortress built over the diamond mines,
nothing el~. I didn't like working in the mines and there is nothing else one can
d~so I got out. I like the job here and the way I can move around." A shr ill
bleeping sounded and he put down his glass and hurried to the controls.
It was late afternoon when Magna appeared on the horizon, just a blur where the
desert sand met the ocean. The shining glass towers of the holiday complex were soon
visible; bright-sailed boats dotted the sea before them.
"I know I'm going to like this," Aileen said, laughing.
The hovercraft slid up onto the beach well clear of the boats and swimmers, at the
very edge of the crumbled mud huts that made up the native town. A few burnoosed
Arabs were visible, but vanished from sight before the door of the craft was
unlocked. There was an open carriage waiting for them~rawn by a donkey. Aileen
clapped with joy at the sight, widened her eyes at the dark-skinned, turbaned
driver, and enjoyed every moment of the short ride to the hotel. The manager hurried
up to hold the door for them and greet them; porters made off with their bags. Their
room was spacious with a wide balcony facing the sea. A basket of fruit was waiting
on the table and the manager himself opened the bottle of champagne and poured the
first glassful.
"Welcome again," he said, managing to bow and pass them the glasses at the same
time.
"I love it," Aileen said, kissingJan soundly as soon as they were alone. 'And I'm
dying to get into that ocean out there."
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"So why don't we?"
It was as good as it looked. Despite the season the water was comfortable, the sun
hot on their shoulders. England and winter were a bad dream, very far away. They
swam until they were tired, then went and sat heneath the tall palm trees and had a
drink in the red glow of sunset. Dinner was served on the terrace and they did not
bother to change. To make the evening complete a brightly glowing full moon rose
above the desert.
"I just can't believe it," Aileen said. "You must have arranged the whole thing."
"I did. The moon was due to rise two hours from now but I speeded it up for you."
"Very kind of you. Jan, look, what are they doing?"
Dark shapes were moving out from the shore, changing and growing while they watched.
"Night yachting. Getting up their sails."
"Could we do it? 1)0 you know how?"
"Of course I do!" he said with authority, trying to remember the little he had
learned about sailing on his first visit here. "Come on, I'll show you."
It was a mess, of course, and they laughed as they stumbled over the tangled ropes,
and finally had to shout to the shore for aid. One of the Arab boat handlers came
out in a skiff and soon put the lines to right. A light breeze had sprung up, so
that with the mainsail set they were soon moving smoothly over the calm sea.
Moonlight showed the way clearly; the stars burned from horizon to horizon. Jan held
the tiller with one hand, the other about Aileen who leaned against him, kissed him,
her skin warm against his in her brief bathing costume.
'Almost too much," she whispered.
"Never enough."
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They did not tack and the wind carried them further from shore, until none of the
other boats were in sight and the land had vanished in the darkness of the water.
'Aren't we too far out?" Aileen asked.
"Not really. I just thought it would be nice to be alone. I can navigate by the
moon, and we can always drop sail and use the auxiliary to get back if we have to."
"I haven't the slightest idea of what you are talking about but I trust you.
A half an hour later, with the air getting cooler, Jan decided to turn around. He
managed to go all aback when he tacked, but eventually the sail filled again and
they could see the lights of the hotel on the horizon ahead. It was very quiet, the
only sound the slight rush of water under the bow and the crackling of the sail, so
that they heard the rumble of motors when they were still far away. The sound grew,
quickly.
"Someone's in a hurry," Jan said, squinting into the darkness toward the growing
whine of straining engines.
"What's out there?"
"I haven't the foggiest. But we'll know soon, they seem to be coming this way. Two
engines it sounds like. Funny time of night to go racing."
It happened quickly. The hammering exhausts grew louder and the first ship appeared.
A dark form over a froth of white sea. Growing monstrously-aiming right at them.
Aileen screamed as it loomed above them, went by them. The wake caught the boat and
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washed over the coaming, sending them rocking wildly.
"By God that was close," Jan gasped, holding to the cockpit edge with one hand,
clasping Aileen with the other.
They had turned, looking after the first ship, so they never even saw the second one
until it was too late. Jan had only a glimpse of the bow tearing down on them,
crashing into their bowsprit, crushing it, capsizing them. He had only time to grab
hard onto Aileen when the boat capsized.
As the water closed over his head something struck him on the leg, numbing it. The
sea pulled at Aileen but he held fast, both arms about her until they surfaced
again. She was sobbing and coughing as her head came above the surface and he held
her up as best he could.
They were in the midst of floating debris. The yacht was gone. So were the two
ships, the sound of their engines dying and vanishing.
In the middle of the dark night, in the black ocean, they were alone.
Three
At first Jan did not appreciate the complete danger of their position. Aileen was
crying and coughing and it was hard enough to keep his own head above the surface as
well as hers. The floating debris was black in the water around them and he pushed
away from a mass of ropes, then struck a cushion with his flailing hand. It was
floating high in the water and had obviously been designed for flotation use. He
guided Aileen to it, pulled it under her arms. Only when he saw that she was holding
fast and her head was well out of the water did he let go and look for another
cushion.
"Come back!" she called out in panic.
"It's all right. f want another float for myself."
He found it easily enough and kicked his way back toward her anxious voice.
"I'm here now. It's all right."
"What's all right? We're going to die out here, drown, I know it!"
He had no easy answer because he had the terrible sensation that she was right.
"They'll find us," he finally said. "The ships will come back or radio in for aid.
You'll see. Meanwhile, let's kick toward shore. It's not too far."
"Which way do we go?"
That was a very good question and he was far from sure of the answer. The moon was
overhead now and veiled by high clouds. And from their position, low in the water,
the hotel lights were no longer visible. "This way," he said, trying to sound
reassuring pushing her ahead of him.
The ships did not come back, the shore was miles away~ven if they were swimming in
the right direction, which he doubted very much-and he was growing cold. And tired.
Aileen was only half conscious, he had the feeling that she might have struck her
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head when they were run down, and soon he had to stop swimming in order to hold her
onto the cushion.
Could they last until morning? That was the fact he had to face. He was not going to
swim ashore. What time was It? Probably not even midnight yet. And the winter nights
were long. The water was not that warm. He kicked out again to get the blood
flowing, to warm himself a bit. But Aileen's skin was growing colder and colder in
his grasp, her breathing weaker. If she died it would be his fault, he had brought
her to this place, put her life at risk.
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But if she died he would certainly pay for his mistake. He would not last
until dawn either. And even if he did-would the searchers find them?
Dark thoughts spiraled around and around in his head and his depression was
absolute. Maybe it would be easier to let go now, to drown now, put an end to
everything. Yet even as the thought entered his mind he kicked out in anger, pushing
them through the wet darkness. Die he might-but not by suicide. However his legs
tired quickly and he stopped the futile effort andlet them float downward. Holding
Aileen's cold shoulders he pressed his face to hers. Was it going to end like this?
Something pushed up against his feet, and he bent his knees in sudden terror. The
thought of a creature unseen below him in the dark water was as terrifying as a
nightmare. Shark? Were there sharks in this ocean? He didn't know.
It touched him again, hard from below, ri~ing up inexorably. There was no escape.
There it was, in all directions, no matter how hard he thrashed to escape.
While behind him something even blacker than the night rose up like a wall, gushing
with water.
Jan struck out with his fist in pure fear-bruising his knuckles on hard metal.
Then they were out of the water, on a platform of some kind, the wind blowing coldly
on his soaked skin. There was the sudden shock of recognition~then he shouted out
loud.
'A submarine!"
The accident had been seen, must have been. Submarines do not rise up beneath one's
feet, in the night, by accident. An infrared telescope, or perhaps the new
micropulse radar. Gently, he laid Aileen on the wet planking, her head on the
pillow.
"Hello there," he called out, knocking with his fist on the conning tower. Perhaps
the door was on the other side. He was starting around it when a black opening
suddenly appeared and men began to push their way out. One of them leaped on Aileen,
stabbing her in the leg with something shining.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jan shouted, jumping at them; relief
turned to anger in the instant. The nearest figure turned swiftly, raising his hand
with something in it, bringing it down toward Jan.
He fought back, grabbed the arm and pressed hard. The man grunted in surprise as he
stabbed himself-his eyes widened with shock. He gave one immense heave, then went
limp. Jan pushed him aside, whirled toward the others, fists clenched and ready.
They were spread in a circle before him, bent to attack, grunting in guttural voices
to one another.
"Oh, hell," one of them said, standing up straight and holding the others back with
his hands. "No more fighting. We've botched this thing nicely."
"We can't stop now...
"Yes we can. Get below." He turned to Jan. "You as well."
'~What have you done to her?"
"Nothing important. An injection to make her sleep. We had one for you too, but poor
Ota got the shot instead..."
"You can't force me to go.
"Don't be a fool!" the man shouted in sudden anger. "We could have left you to
Page 10
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drown-but we surfaced to save your lives. And every moment we are exposed puts ours
in danger. Stay here if you want."
He turned and followed the others through the doorway, helping pass down the
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unconscious Aileen. Jan hesitated only an instant, then followed. He still was not
going to commit suicide.
He blinked in the fierce red glow of the compartment, figures like ruddy devils
around him. For the moment he was ignored as the hatch was sealed shut, orders
shouted, the deck tilted abruptly. When they were safely below the surface, the man
who had spoken to him on deck turned from the periscope and waved Jan toward the
door at the end of the compartment.
"Let's go to my cabin. Get some dry clothes for you, something warm to drink. The
girl will be taken care of too, don't worry."
Jan sat on the edge of the neatly made bunk, glad of the warmth of the blanket about
his shoulders, shivering strongly. He was handed a cup of sweet tea which he sipped
at gratefully. His savior~or captor?-sat in the chair opposite lighting his pipe. A
man in his fifties, gray hair and tanned skin, dressed in a worn khaki uniform with
epaulets of rank on his shoulders.
"I am Captain Tachauer," he said, blowing out a cloud of rank smoke. "Could I have
your name?"
"Kulozik. Jan Kulozik. Who are you and what are you doing here? And why the attempt
to knock us out?"
"It seemed a good idea at the time. No one wanted to leave you two up there to
drown, though it was suggested at least once with a marked lack of enthusiasm. We
are not murderers. Yet if we saved you it would reveal our presence and there could
be major repercussions. Finally the sleeping shots were suggested and approved. What
else could we do? But it's obvious we're not professionals at this sort of thing.
Ota got his own needle and is now having a good snore for himself."
"Who are you?" Jan asked again, looking at the unfamiliar uniform, at the books in a
rack on the wall printed in an alphabet he had never seen before. Captain Tachauer
sighed heavily.
"Israeli Navy," he said. "Welcome aboard."
'Thank you-and thank you as well for saving our lives. I just don't understand why
you were worried about us seeing you. If you are involved in security work for the
UNO Navy, I'll keep my mouth shut. I have a security clearance."
"Please, Mr. Kulozik, no more." The Captain raised his hand in a stopping motion.
"You speak out of ignoranceof the political situation here."
"Ignorance! I'm no prole. My education contains two graduate degrees."
The Captain's eyebrows lifted in appreciation of the degrees, but he did not seem
too excited by them. "I'm not referring to your technical expertise, which I am sure
is considerable, but to certain gaps in your knowledge of world history produced by
erro~rs of fact that are firmly implanted in your textbooks."
"I don't know what you are talking about, Captain Tachauer. We have no censorship in
our education in Britain. In the Soviet States, perhaps, but not in ours. I have
complete freedom of access to any book in our libraries, as well as computer
printouts of as many as I wish to consult."
"Very impressive," the Captain said, not looking impressed. "I have no intention of
arguing politics with you at this time of night in our present condition. I just
want to tell you as an inescapable fact that the nation of Israel is not a UNO
conclav? of factories and farms as you have been taught in your schools. It is a
Page 11
Harrison, Harry - To the Stars Trilogy.txt
free and independent nation-almost the only one left on the face of the globe. But
we can keep our independence as long as we don't leave this area or make our
position known to anyone other than the ruling powers of your world. That is the
danger we faced when we rescued you. Your knowledge of our existence, particularly
here in this body of water where we are not supposed to be, could cause us immense
damage. It might even lead to the nuclear destruction of our country. Your rulers
have never been happy with our existence. If they thought they could get away
unscathed they would obliterate us tomorrow..."
The telephone buzzed and Captain Tachatier picked it up. He listened and muttered an
answer.
"I'm needed," he said, standing. "Make yourself comfortable. There's more tea here
in the thermos:'
What on earth had he been talking about? Jan sipped the strong tea, rubbing
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unconsciously at the black and blue bruise that was beginning to appear on his leg.
The history books can't lie. Yet this submarine was here-and acting very
circumspectly-and they were obviously worried about something. He wished that he
wasn't so tired, his thoughts so clogged.
"Feeling any better?" the girl said, slipping through the curtains that covered the
doorway, then sitting in the Captain's chair. She had blond hair and green eyes and
was very attractive. She wore a khaki blouse and shorts, her legs were tanned and
smooth, and Jan drew his eyes away from them with an embarrassed start. She smiled.
"My name is Sara and you are Jan Kulozik. Anything more I can get you?"
"No, thank you. Wait, yes, some information. Do you know what those ships were doing
that ran us down? I want to report them."
"I don't know."
But she added nothing else. Just sat and looked at him calmly. The silence grew
until he realized that was all she was going to say.
"Aren't you going to tell me?" he asked.
"No. It's for your own good. If you reveal your knowledge at any time you will be
put instantly on the security suspect list and watched. For the rest of your life.
Your advancement, career, everything will be in jeopardy until the end of your
days."
"I'm afraid, Sara, that you know very little about my country. We have Security,
yes, in fact my brother-in-law is a rather high officer. But we don't have anything
like that. For proles, perhaps, if they are known troublemakers. They must be
watched. But not for someone in my position ...
"What exactly is your position?"
"I'm an engineer, from a good family. I have the best connections.
"I see. One of the oppressors. A slave master."
"I resent the implications of that..."
"I'm not implying anything, Jan. Just stating a fact. You have your kind of society
and we have ours. A democracy. Maybe it's a word you don't even know. It doesn't
matter since we are probably the last democracy in the world. We rule ourselves and
we are all equal. As opposed to your slaveocracy where all are born unequal, live
and die that way since nothing can ever change. From your point of view I'm sure it
doesn't look so bad. Since you're the one on the top. But don't rock the boat. Your
personal position could change very quickly if you were under suspicion. There is
vertical mobility in your culture in only one direction. Down."
Page 12
Harrison, Harry - To the Stars Trilogy.txt
Jan laughed aloud. "Nonsense."
"Do you really believe that? All right. I'll tell you about the ships. There is a
brisk trade in drugs through the Red Sea. The traditional trade from the east.
Heroin for the masses. Smuggled in through Egypt or Turkey. Where there is a
need-and your proles have a great need for escape-there is always money and men who
will supply it. None of these drugs goes through the areas we control, we see to
that, which is another reason why we are suffered to exist. This submarine patrol is
just one of the ways we make sure. As long as the smugglers stay away from us we
ignore them. But your state security forces have patrols as well and one of these
was after that smuggler that almost ran you down. It was the coast guard that hit
you. We doubt if they saw you in the darkness. In any case, they did take care of
the smuggler. We saw the light of the explosion, and we tracked the coast guard
returning to port alone."
Jan shook his head. "I've never heard of any of this. The proles have all the be
nnies and joints they need..."
"They need far stronger drugs to numb the existence that they lead. Now, please,
stop interrupting every minute to say you have never heard about any of this. I know
that-and that is why I am trying to tell you what is happening. The world as it
really is is not the world you have been told about. It shouldn't matter to you, in
the ruling minority, fat and rich in a hungry world. But you wanted to know. So I am
telling you that Israel is a free and independent country. When all of the Arabian
oil ran out the world turned their back on the Near East, happy at last to be free
of the burden of the rich sheikhs. But we are here permanently-and the Arabs won't
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摘要：

file:///F|/rah/Harry%20Harrison/Harrison,%20Harry%20-%20To%20The%20Stars\%20Trilogy%20(UC).txtHarrison,Harry-TotheStarsTrilogy.txtHOMEWORLDChapterOne"It'samonstrosity,abastardcombinationofantiquepiping,wornvalve\s-andmodernelectronictechnology.Thewholethingshouldbeblownupandbuiltover\fromscratch.""N...

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