Robert A Heinlein - Space Family Stone

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Space Family Stone
Robert Heinlein
© 1952 Robert A Heinlein
FIRST NEL PAPERBACK EDITION FEBRUARY 1971
1
THE UNHEAVENLY TWINS
The two brothers stood looking the old wreck over. ‘Junk,’ decided Castor.
‘Not junk,’ objected’ Pollux. ‘A jalopy - granted. A heap any way you look at it
A clunker possihly. But not junk.’
‘You’re an optimist, Junior.’ Both boys were fifteen; Castor was twenty
minutes older than his brother.
‘Im a believer, Grandpa - and you had better be, too. Let me point out that we
don’t have money enough for anything better. Scared to gun it?’
Castor stared up the side of the ship. ‘Not at all - because that thing will
never again rise high enough to crash. We want a ship that will take us out to
the Asteroids - right? This superannuated pogo stick wouldn’t even take us to
Earth.’
‘It will when I get through hopping it up - with your thumb-fingered help. Let’s
look through it and see what it needs.’
Castor glanced at the sky. ‘Its geting late.’ He looked not at the Sun making
long shadows on the lunar plain, but at Earth, reading the time from the
sunset line now moving across the Pacific.
Look, Grandpa, are we buying a ship or are we getting to supper on time?’
Castor shrugged. ‘As you say, Junior.’ He lowered his antenna, then started
swarming up the rope ladder left there for the accommodation of prospective
customers. He used his hands only and despite his cumbersome vacuum suit
his movements were easy and graceful. Pollux swarmed after him. Castor
cheered up a bit when they reached the control room. The ship had not been
stripped for salvage as completely as had many of the ships on the lot. True,
the ballistic computer was missisng but the rest of the astrogation
instruments were in place and the controls to the power room seemed to be
complete. The space-battered old hulk was not a wreck, but merely obsolete.
A hasty look at the power room seemed to confirm this.
Ten minutes later Castor, still mindful of supper, herded Pollux down the
ladder. When Castor reached the ground Pollux said, ‘Well?’
‘Let me do the talking.’
The sales office of the lot was a bubble dome nearly a mile away; they
moved toward it with the easy, fast lope of old Moon hands. The office airlock
was marked by a huge sign:
DEALER DAN
THE SPACESHIP MAN
CRAFT OF ALL TYPES *** SCRAP METAL *** SPARE PARTS
FUELING & SERVICE
(AEC License No. 739024)
They cycled through the lock and unclamped each other’s helmets. The outer
office was crossed by a railing; back of it sat a girl receptionist. She was
watching a newscast while buffing her nails. She spoke without taking her
eyes off the TV tank:
‘We’re not buying anything, boys - nor hiring anybody.’
Castor said ‘You sell spaceships?’
She looked up. ‘Not often enough.’
‘Then tell your boss we want to see him.’
Her eyebrows went up. ‘Whom do you think you are kidding, sonny boy? Mr
Ekizian is a busy man.’
Pollux said to Castor, ‘Let’s go over to the Hungarian, Cas. These people
don’t mean business.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’
The girl looked from one to the other, shrugged, and flipped a switch. ‘Mr
Ekizan - there are a couple of Boy Scouts out here who say they want to buy
a spaceship. Do you want to bother with them?’
A deep voice responded, ‘And why not? We got ships to sell’ Shortly a bald-
headed, portly man, dressed in a cigar and a wrinkled moonsuit’ came out of
the inner office and rested his hands on the rail. He looked them over
shrewdly but his voice was jovial. ‘You wanted to see me?’
‘You’re the owner?’ asked Castor.
2
‘Dealer Dan Ekizian, the man himself. What’s on your mind’ boys? Time is
money.’
‘Your, secretary told yon,’ Castor said ungraciously. ‘Spaceships.
Dealer Dan took his cigar out of his mouth and exammed it. ‘Really? What
would you boys want with a spacehip?’
Pollux muttered something; Castor said, ‘Do you usually do business out
here?’ He glanced at the girl.
Ekizan followed his glance. ‘My mistake. Come inside.’ He opened the gate
for them, led them into his office, and seated them. He ceremoniously offered
them cigars; the boys refused politely. ‘Now out with it kids. Let’s not joke.’
Castor repeated, ‘Spaceships.’
He pursed his lips. ‘A luxury liner, maybe? I haven’t got one on the field at the
moment but I can always broker a deal.’ Pollux stood up. ‘He’s making fun of
us, Cas. Let’s go see the Hungarian.’
‘Wait a moment Pol. Mr Ekizian, you’ve got a heap out there on the south
side of the field, a class VII, model ‘93 Detroiter. What’s your scrapmetal
price on her and what does she mass?’ The dealer looked surpised. ‘That
sweet llttle job? Why, I couldn’t afford to let that go as scrap. And anyhow,
even at scrap that would come to a lot of money. If it is metal you boys want’
I got it. Just tell me how much and what sort’
‘We were talking about that Detroiter.’
‘I don’t believe I’ve met you boys before?’
‘Sorry, sir. I’m Castor Stone. This is my brother Pollux.’
‘Glad to meet you, Mr Stone. Stone,.. Stone? Any relation to - The
“Unheavenly Twins” - that’s it.’
‘Smile when you say that,’ said Pollux.
‘Shut up, Pol. We’re the Stone twins.’
‘The frostproof rebreather valve, you invented it, didn’t you?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Say’ I got one in my own suit. A good gimmick - you boys are quite the
mechanics.’ He looked them over again. ‘Maybe you were really serious
about a ship.’
‘Of course we were.’
‘Hmm. . . you’re not looking for scrap; you want something to get around it.
I’ve got just the job for you, a General Motors Jumpbug, practically new. It’s
been out on one grubstake job to a couple of thorium prospectors and I had
to reclaim it. The hold ain’t even radiosative.’
‘Not interested.’
3
‘Better look at it. Automatic landing and three hops takes you right around the
equator. Just the thing for a couple of lively, active boys.’
‘About that Detroiter - what’s your scrap price?’
Ekizian looked hurt. ‘That’s a deepspace vessel, son - It’s no use to you, as a
ship. And I can’t let it go for scrap; that’s a clean job. It was a family yacht -
never been pushed over six g, never had an emergency landing. It’s got
hundreds of millions of miles still in it. I couldn’t let you scrap that ship, even if
you were to pay me the factory price. It would be a shame. I love ships. Now
take this Jumpbug. . .’
‘You can’t sell that Detroiter as anything but scrap,’ Castor answered. ‘It’s
been sitting there two years that I know of. If you had hoped to sell her as a
ship you wouldn’t have salvaged the computer. She’s pitted, her tubes are no
good, and an overhaul would cost more than she’s worth. Now what’s her
scrap price?’
Dealer Dan rocked back and forth in his chair; he seemed to be suffering.
‘Scrap that ship? Just fuel her up and she’s ready to go - Venus, Mars, even
the Jovian satellites.’
‘What’s your cash price?’
‘Cash?’
‘Cash.’
Ekizian hesitated, then mentioned a price. Castor stood up and said, ‘You
were right, Pollux. Let’s go see the Hungarian.’
The dealer looked pained. ‘If I were to write it off for my own use, I couldn’t
cut that price - not in fairness to my partners.’
‘Come on, Pol.’
‘Look, boys, I can’t let you go over to the Hungarian’s. He’ll cheat you.’
Pollux looked savage. ‘Maybe he’ll do it politely.’
‘Shut up, Poll!’ Castor went on, ‘Sorry, Mr Ekizian, my brother isn’t
housebroken. But we can’t do business.’ He stood up.
‘Wait a minute. That’s a good valve you boys thought up. I use it; I feel I owe
you something.’ He named another and lower sum.
‘Sorry. We can’t afford it.’ He started to follow Pollux out ‘Wait!’ Ekizian
mentioned a third price. ‘Cash,’ he added.
‘Of course. And you pay the sales tax?’ ‘Well. . . for a cash deal, yes.’
‘Good.’
‘Sit down, gentlemen. I’ll call in my girl and we’ll stat the papers.’
‘No hurry,’ answered Castor. ‘We’ve still got to see what the Hungarian has
on his lot - and the government salvage lot, too.’
4
‘Huh? That price doesn’t stand unless you deal right now. Dealer Dan, they
call me. I got no time to waste dickering twice.’
‘Nor have we. See you tomorrow. If it hasn’t sold we can take up where we
left off.’
‘If you expect me to hold that price, I’ll have to have a nominal option
payment.’
‘Oh, no, I wouldn’t expect you to pass up a sale for us. If you can sell it by
tomorrow, we wouldn’t think of standing in your way. Come on, Pol.’
Ekizian shrugged. ‘Been nice meeting you, boys.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
As they closed the lock behind them and waited for it to cycle, Pollux said
‘you should have paid him an option.’
His brother looked at him. ‘You’re retarded, Junior.’
On leaving Dealer Dan’s office the boys headed for the spaceport, intending
to catch the passenger tube back to the city, fifty miles west of the port. They
had less than thirty minutes if they were to get home for supper on time -
unimportant in itself but Castor disliked starting a family debate on the
defensive over a side issue. He kept hurrying Pollux along.
Their route took them through the grounds of General Synthetics
Corporation, square miles of giant cracking plants, sun screens, condensers,
fractionating columns, all sorts of huge machinery to take advantage of the
burning heat, the bitter cold, and the endless vacuum for industrial chemical
engineering purposes - a Dantesque jungle of unlikely shapes. The boys paid
no attention to it; they were used to it. They hurried down the company road
in the flying leaps the Moon’s low gravity permitted, making twenty miles an
hour. Half way to the port they were overtaken by a company tractor; Pollux
flagged it down.
As he ground to a stop, the driver spoke to them via his cab radio: ‘What do
you want?’
‘Are you meeting the Terra shuttle?’
‘Subject to the whims of fate - yes.’
‘It’s Jefferson,’ said Pollux. ‘Hey, Jeff - it’s Cas and Pol. Drop us at the tube
station, will you?’
‘Climb on the rack. “Mind the volcano - come up the usual way.”’ As they did
so he went on, ‘What brings you two carrot-topped accident-prones to this far
reach of culture?’
Castor hesitated and glanced at Pollux. They had known Jefferson James for
some time, having bowled against him in the city league. He was an old
5
Moon hand but not a native, having come to Luna before they were born to
gather color for a novel. The novel was still unfinished.
Pollux nodded. Castor said, ‘Jeff, can you keep a secret?’
‘Certainly - but permit me to point out that these radios are not directional.
See your attorney before admitting any criminal act or intention.’
Castor looked around; aside from two tractor trucks in the distance no one
seemed to be in line-of-sight. ‘We’re going into business.’
‘When were you out of it?’
‘This is a new line - interplanetary trade. We’re going to buy our own ship and
run it ourselves.’
The driver whistled. ‘Remind me to sell Four-Planet Export short. When does
this blitz take place?’
‘We’re shopping for a ship now. Know of a good buy?’
‘I’ll alert my spies.’ He shut up, being busy thereafter with the heavier traffic
near the spaceport. Presently he said, ‘Here’s your stop.’ As the boys
climbed down from the rack of the truck he added, ‘If you need a crewman,
keep me in mind.’
‘Okay, Jeff. And thanks for the lift.’
Despite the lift they were late. A squad of marine M.P.s heading into the city
on duty pre-empted the first tube car; by the time the next arrived the ship
from Earth had grounded and its passengers took priority Thereafter they got
tangled with the changing shift from the synthetics plant. It was well past
suppertime when they arrived at their family’s apartment a half mile down
inside Luna city
Mr Stone looked up as they came in ‘Well! the star boarders,’ he announced.
He was sitting with a small recorder in his lap, a throat mike clipped to his
neck.
‘Dad’ it was unavoidable,’ Castor began. ‘We -‘
‘It always is,’ his father cut in. ‘Never mind the details. Your dinner is in the
cozy. I wanted to send it back but your mother went soft and didn’t let me.’
Dr Stone looked up from the far end of the living room, where she was
modelling a head of their older sister, Meade. ‘Correction’, she said. ‘Your
father went soft; I would have let you starve. Meade, quit turning your head.’
‘Check,’ announced their four-year old brother and got up from the floor
where he had been playing chess with their grand mother. He ran towards
them. ‘Hey, Cas, Pol - where you been? Did you go to the port? Why didn’t
you take me? Did you bring me anything?’
6
Castor swung him up by his heels and held him upside down. ‘Yes. No.
Maybe. And why should we? Here, Pol - catch.’ He sailed the child through
the air; his twin reached out and caught him, still by the heels.
‘Check yourself,’ announced Grandmother, ‘and mate in three moves.
Shouldn’t let your social life distract you from your gaane, Lowell.’
The youngster looked back at the board from his upside down position.
‘Wrong, Hazel. Now I let you take my queen, then - Blammie!’
His grandmother looked again at the board. ‘Huh? Wait a minute - suppose I
refuse your queen, then - Why, the little scamp! He’s trapped me again.
Meade said, ‘Souldn’t let him beat you so often, Hazel. It’s not good for him.’
‘Meade, for the ninth time, quit turning your head!’
‘Sorry, Mother. Let’s take a rest.’
Grandmother snorted. ‘You don’t think I let him beat me on purpose, do you?
You play him; I am giving up the game for good.’
Meade answered just as her mother spoke; at the same time Pollux chucked
the boy back at Castor. ‘You - take him. I want to eat.’ The child squealed. Mr
Stone shouted, ‘QUIET!’
‘And stay quiet,’ he went on, while unfastening the throat mike. ‘How is a man
to make a living in all this racket? This episode has to be done over
completely, sent to New York. tomorrow, shot, canned, distributed, and on
the channels by the end of the week. It’s not possible.’
‘Then don’t do it,’ Dr Stone answered serenely. ‘Or work in your room - it’s
soundproof.’
Mr Stone turned to his wife. ‘My dear, I’ve explained a thousand times that I
can’t work in there by myself. I get no stimulation. I fall asleep.’
Castor said, ‘How’s it going, Dad? Rough?’
‘Well, now that you ask me, the villains are way ahead and I don’t see a
chance for our heroes.’
‘I thought of a gimmick while Pol and I were out. You have this young kid you
introduced into the story slide into the control room while everybody is
asleep. They don’t suspect him, see? - he’s too young so they haven’t put
him in irons. Once in the control room - ‘ Castor stopped and looked
crestfallen. ‘No, it won’t do; he’s too young to handle the ship. He wouldn’t
know how.’
‘Why do you say that?’ his father objected. ‘All I have to do is to plant that he
has had a chance to. . . let me see -‘ He stopped; his face went blank. ‘No,’
he said presently.
7
‘No good, huh?’
‘Eh? What? It smells - but I think I can use it. Stevenson did something like it
in Treasure Island - and I think he got it from Homer. Let’s see; if we - ‘ He
again went into his trance.
Pollux had opened the warming cupboard Castor dropped his baby brother
on the floor and accepted a dinner pack from his twin. He opened it. ‘Meat
pie again,’ he stated bleakly and sniffed it. ‘Synthetic, too.’
‘Say that over again and louder,’ his sister urged him. ‘I’ve been trying for
weeks to get Mother to subscribe to another restaurant.’
‘Don’t talk, Meade,’ Dr Stone answered. ‘I’m modelling your mouth.’
Grandmother Stone snorted. ‘You youngsters have it too easy. When I came
to the Moon there was a time when we had nothing but soya beans and
coffee powder for three months.’
Meade answered, ‘Hazel, the last time you told us about that it was two
months and it was tea instead of coffee.’
‘Young lady, who’s telling this lie? You, or me?’ Hazel stood up and came
over to her twin grandsons. ‘What were you two doing on Dan Ekizian’s lot?’
Castor looked at Pollux, who looked back. Castor said cautiously, ‘Who told
you that we were there?’
‘Don’t try to kid your grandmother. When you have been on -‘
The entire family joined her in chorus: ‘”- on the Moon as long as I have!”’
Hazel sniffed. ‘Sometimes I wonder why I married!’ Her son said, ‘Don’t try to
answer that question,’ then continued to his sons, ‘Well, what were you doing
there?’ Castor consulted Pollux by eye, then answered, ‘Well, Dad, it’s like
this -‘
His father nodded. ‘Your best flights of imagination always start that way.
Attend carefully, everybody.’
‘Well, you know that money you are holding for us?’
‘What about it?’ ‘Three per cent isn’t very much.’ Mr Stone shook his head
vigorously. ‘I will not invest your royalties in some wildcat stock. Financial
genius may have skipped my generation but when I turn that money over to
you, it will be intact’
‘That’s just it. It worries you. You could turn it over to us now and quit
worrying about it.’
‘No. You are too young.’
‘We weren’t too young to earn it’
8
摘要：

SpaceFamilyStoneRobertHeinlein©1952RobertAHeinleinFIRSTNELPAPERBACKEDITIONFEBRUARY19711THEUNHEAVENLYTWINSThetwobrothersstoodlookingtheoldwreckover.‘Junk,’decidedCastor.‘Notjunk,’objected’Pollux.‘Ajalopy-granted.AheapanywayyoulookatitAclunkerpossihly.Butnotjunk.’‘You’reanoptimist,Junior.’Bothboyswe...

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