Harry Harrison - To the Stars 1 - Homeworld

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 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

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

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 pock-ets. 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.”

“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 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

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

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

door-way~ 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 PER-MANENTLE 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.

“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

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

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 installa-tion, 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 ambulance copter never to return. Nor had his replacement ever arrived.

Jan had found himself supervIs-ing 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 terml-nal 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 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.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

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 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.”

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

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 propel-lers. 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.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

'Absolutely correct-how did you find out? But this is a momentous occasion. If the thermal extraction

tech-niques work, we may be pumping oil again. For the first time in over two-hundred years.

“Oil? From where?” Aileen's voice was distant; she was more interested in getting the thin blouse over

her head.

“The ground. It used to be there, a lot of it, petro-leum. Pumped dry by the Wreckers, oxidized and

wasted just like everything else. A really beautiful source of chem-ical 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 identi-ty, 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 ...

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

“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.”

“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 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.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

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 mo-ment 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.”

“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, chang-ing 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.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

“Never enough.”

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 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

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Harry Harrison - To the Stars 1 - Homeworld

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: