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What role does the snoll doper play in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Girls from Fieu Dayol by Robert F. Young.
Relevant chunks:
The Girls From Fieu Dayol
By ROBERT F. YOUNG
They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the background for both had been bedrooms and bars, not libraries.
On page 21 of the Taine tome he happened upon a sheet of yellow copy paper folded in four. Unfolding it, he read:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Sities towms copeis wotnid. Gind snoll doper nckli! Wilbe Fieu Dayol fot ig habe mot toseo knwo—te bijk weil en snoll doper—Klio, asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Since when, Quidley wondered, refolding the paper and putting it back in the book, had high-school typing students taken to reading Taine? Thoughtfully he replaced the book on the shelf and moved deeper into the literature section.
He had just taken down Xenophon's Anabasis when he saw the girl walk in the door.
Let it be said forthwith that old books were not the only item on Herbert Quidley's penchant-list. He liked old wood, too, and old paintings, not to mention old wine and old whiskey. But most of all he liked young girls. He especially liked them when they looked the way Helen of Troy must have looked when Paris took one gander at her and started building his ladder. This one was tall, with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes, and she had a Grecian symmetry of shape that would have made Paris' eyes pop had he been around to take notice. Paris wasn't, but Quidley's eyes, did the job.
After coming in the door, the girl deposited a book on the librarian's desk and headed for the literature section. Quickly Quidley lowered his eyes to the Anabasis and henceforth followed her progress out of their corners. When she came to the O's she paused, took down a book and glanced through it. Then she replaced it and moved on to the P's ... the Q's ... the R's. Barely three feet from him she paused again and took down Taine's History of English Literature .
He simply could not believe it. The odds against two persons taking an interest in so esoteric a volume on a single night in a single library were ten thousand to one. And yet there was no gainsaying that the volume was in the girl's hands, and that she was riffling through it with the air of a seasoned browser.
Presently she returned the book to the shelf, selected another—seemingly at random—and took it over to the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone.
He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time?
He returned Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got
"Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing.
By whom—her boy friend?
Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word
"fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while.
Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine, The Zeitgeist , Quidley watched her take a seemingly haphazard route to the shelf where Taine's History reposed, take the volume down, surreptitiously slip a folded sheet of yellow paper between its pages and return it to the shelf.
After she left he wasted no time in acquainting himself with the second message. It was as unintelligible as the first:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Habe wotnid ig ist ending ifedererer te. T'lide sid Fieu Dayol po jestig toseo knwo, bijk weil en snoll doper entling—Yoolna. asdf ;lkj asdf
;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Well, perhaps not quite as unintelligible. He knew, at least, who Cai was, and he knew—from the reappearance of the words wotnid , Fieu Dayol and snoll doper —that the two communications were in the same code. And certainly it was reasonable to assume that the last word— Yoolna —was the name of the girl he had just seen, and that she was a different person from the Klio whose name had appended the first message.
He refolded the paper, replaced it between the pages, returned the book to the shelf and went back to the reading table and The Zeitgeist .
Kay didn't show up till almost closing time, and he was beginning to think that perhaps she wouldn't come around for the pickup till tomorrow when she finally walked in the door. She employed the same tactics she had employed the previous night, arriving, as though by chance, at the T-section and transferring the message with the same undetectable legerdemain to her purse. This time, when she walked out the door, he was not far behind her.
She climbed into a sleek convertible and pulled into the street. It took him but a moment to gain his hardtop and start out after her. When, several blocks later, she pulled to the curb in front of an all-night coffee bar, he followed suit. After that, it was merely a matter of following her inside.
He decided on Operation Spill-the-sugar. It had stood him in good stead before, and he was rather fond of it. The procedure was quite simple. First you took note of the position of the sugar dispensers, then you situated yourself so that your intended victim was between you and the nearest one, then you ordered coffee without sugar in a low voice, and after the counterman or countergirl had served you, you waited till he/she was out of earshot and asked your i.v. to please pass the sugar. When she did so you let the dispenser slip from your fingers in such a way that some of its contents spilled on her lap—
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, righting it. "Here, let me brush it off."
"It's all right, it's only sugar," she said, laughing.
"I'm hopelessly clumsy," he continued smoothly, brushing the gleaming crystals from her pleated skirt, noting the clean sweep of her thighs.
"I beseech you to forgive me."
"You're forgiven," she said, and he noticed then that she spoke with a slight accent.
"If you like, you can send it to the cleaners and have them send the bill to me. My address is 61 Park Place." He pulled out his wallet, chose an appropriate card, and handed it to her—
Herbert Quidley: Profiliste
Her forehead crinkled. " Profiliste? "
"I paint profiles with words," he said. "You may have run across some of my pieces in the Better Magazines. I employ a variety of pseudonyms, of course."
"How interesting." She pronounced it "anteresting."
"Not famous profiles, you understand. Just profiles that strike my fancy." He paused. She had raised her cup to her lips and was taking a dainty sip. "You have a rather striking profile yourself, Miss—"
"Smith. Kay Smith." She set the cup back on the counter and turned and faced him. For a second her eyes seemed to expand till they preoccupied his entire vision, till he could see nothing but their disturbingly clear—and suddenly cold—blueness. Panic touched him, then vanished when she said, "Would you really consider word-painting my profile, Mr. Quidley?"
Would he! "When can I call?"
She hesitated for a moment. Then: "I think it will be better if I call on you. There are quite a number of people living in our—our house. I'm afraid the quarters would be much too cramped for an artist like yourself to concentrate."
Quidley glowed. Usually it required two or three days, and sometimes a week, to reach the apartment phase. "Fine," he said. "When can I expect you?"
She stood up and he got to his feet beside her. She was even taller than he had thought. In fact, if he hadn't been wearing Cuban heels, she'd have been taller than he was. "I'll be in town night after next," she said. "Will nine o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Good-by for now then, Mr. Quidley."
He was so elated that when he arrived at his apartment he actually did try to write a profile. His own, of course. He sat down at his custom-built chrome-trimmed desk, inserted a blank sheet of paper in his custom-built typewriter and tried to arrange his thoughts. But as usual his mind raced ahead of the moment, and he saw the title, Self Profile , nestling noticeably on the contents page of one of the Better Magazines, and presently he saw the piece itself in all its splendid array of colorful rhetoric, sparkling imagery and scintillating wit, occupying a two-page spread.
It was some time before he returned to reality, and when he did the first thing that met his eyes was the uncompromisingly blank sheet of paper. Hurriedly he typed out a letter to his father, requesting an advance on his allowance, then, after a tall glass of vintage wine, he went to bed.
In telling him that she would be in town two nights hence, Kay had unwittingly apprised him that there would be no exchange of messages until that time, so the next evening he skipped his vigil at the library. The following evening, however, after readying his apartment for the forthcoming assignation, he hied himself to his reading-table post and took up The Zeitgeist once again.
He had not thought it possible that there could be a third such woman.
And yet there she was, walking in the door, tall and blue-eyed and graceful; dark of hair and noble of mien; browsing in the philosophy section now, now the fiction section, now moving leisurely into the literature aisle and toward the T's....
The camouflage had varied, but the message was typical enough:
fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; Cai: Gind en snoll doper nckli! Wotnid antwaterer Fieu Dayol hid jestig snoll doper ifedererer te. Dep gogensplo snoll dopers ensing!—Gorka. fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl;
Judging from the repeated use of the words, snoll dopers were the topic of the day. Annoyed, Quidley replaced the message and put the book back on the shelf. Then he returned to his apartment to await Kay.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her point-blank what a snoll doper was; whether she would reveal the nature of the amateur secret society to which she and Klio and Yoolna and Gorka belonged. It virtually had to be an amateur secret society. Unless, of course, they were foreigners. But what on earth foreign organization would be quixotic enough to employ Taine's History of English Literature as a communications medium when there was a telephone in every drugstore and a mailbox on every corner?
Somehow the words "what on earth foreign organization" got turned around in his mind and became "what foreign organization on earth" and before he could summon his common sense to succor him, he experienced a rather bad moment. By the time the door chimes sounded he was his normal self again.
He straightened his tie with nervous fingers, checked to see if his shirt cuffs protruded the proper length from his coat sleeves, and looked around the room to see if everything was in place. Everything was—the typewriter uncovered and centered on the chrome-trimmed desk, with the sheaf of crinkly first-sheets beside it; the reference books stacked imposingly nearby; Harper's , The Atlantic and The Saturday Review showing conspicuously in the magazine rack; the newly opened bottle of bourbon and the two snifter glasses on the sideboard; the small table set cozily for two—
The chimes sounded again. He opened the door.
She walked in with a demure, "Hello." He took her wrap. When he saw what she was wearing he had to tilt his head back so that his eyes wouldn't fall out of their sockets.
Skin, mostly, in the upper regions. White, glowing skin on which her long hair lay like forest pools. As for her dress, it was as though she had fallen forward into immaculate snow, half-burying her breasts before catching herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired.
He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it."
"It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's the present company, Miss Smith." "Call me Kay."
They touched glasses: "Your liquor is as exquisite as your living room, Herbert. I shall have to come here more often." "I hope you will, Kay."
"Though such conduct, I'm told, is morally reprehensible on the planet Earth." "Not in this particular circle. Your hair is lovely." "Thank you.... You haven't mentioned my perfume yet. Perhaps I'm standing too far away.... There!" "It's—it's as lovely as your hair, Kay." "Um, kiss me again." "I—I never figured—I mean, I engaged a caterer to serve us dinner at 9:30." "Call him up. Make it 10:30."
The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place.
He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of—
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form:
a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj
Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications!
You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though.
Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb.
He remembered Kay's odd accent. Was that the way a person would speak English if her own language ran something like " ist ifedereret, hid jestig snoll doper adwo ?"
He remembered the way she had looked at him in the coffee bar.
He remembered the material of her dress.
He remembered how she had come to his room.
"I didn't know you had a taste for Taine."
Her voice seemed to come from far away, but she was standing right beside him, tall and bewitching; Helenesque as ever. Her blue eyes became great wells into which he found himself falling. With an effort, he pulled himself back. "You're early tonight," he said lamely.
She appropriated the message, read it. "Put the book back," she said presently. Then, when he complied: "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka. After that I'm going to take you home to meet my folks."
The relieved sigh he heard was his own.
They climbed into her convertible and she nosed it into the moving line of cars. "How long have you been reading my mail?" she asked.
"Since the night before I met you."
"Was that the reason you spilled the sugar?"
"Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?"
She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet."
He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?"
"Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back."
He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on the seat, lit a cigarette and exhaled a mixture of smoke and relief. On the way to meet her folks. So it was just an ordinary secret society after all. And here he'd been thinking that she was the key figure in a Martian plot to blow up Earth—
Her folks !
Abruptly the full implication of the words got through to him, and he sat bolt-up-right on the seat. He was starting to climb out of the car when he saw Kay coming down the walk. Anyway, running away wouldn't solve his problem. A complete disappearing act was in order, and a complete disappearing act would take time. Meanwhile he would play along with her.
A station wagon came up behind them, slowed, and matched its speed with theirs. "Someone's following us," Quidley said.
"Probably Jilka."
Five minutes later the station wagon turned down a side street and disappeared. "She's no longer with us," Quidley said.
"She's got to pick someone up. She'll meet us later."
"At your folks'?"
"At the ship."
The city was thinning out around them now, and a few stars were visible in the night sky. Quidley watched them thoughtfully for a while. Then:
"What ship?" he said.
"The one we're going to Fieu Dayol on."
" Fieu Dayol? "
"Persei 17 to you. I said I was going to take you home to meet my folks, didn't I?"
"In other words, you're kidnapping me."
She shook her head vehemently. "I most certainly am not! Neither according to interstellar law or your own. When you compromised me, you made yourself liable in the eyes of both."
"But why pick on me? There must be plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Why don't you marry one of them?"
"For two reasons: one, you're the particular man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications services and forbidding us to appear in public places. It was devised to facilitate the prosecution of interstellar black marketeers, but we're subject to it, too, and have to contrive communications systems of our own."
"But why were all the messages addressed to you?"
"They weren't messages. They were requisitions. I'm the ship's stock girl."
April fields stretched darkly away on either side of the highway. Presently she turned down a rutted road between two of them and they bounced and swayed back to a black blur of trees. "Here we are," she said.
Gradually he made out the sphere. It blended so flawlessly with its background that he wouldn't have been able to see it at all if he hadn't been informed of its existence. A gangplank sloped down from an open lock and came to rest just within the fringe of the trees.
Lights danced in the darkness behind them as another car jounced down the rutted road. "Jilka," Kay said. "I wonder if she got him."
Apparently she had. At least there was a man with her—a rather woebegone, wilted creature who didn't even look up as they passed. Quidley watched them ascend the gangplank, the man in the lead, and disappear into the ship.
"Next," Kay said.
Quidley shook his head. "You're not taking me to another planet!"
She opened her purse and pulled out a small metallic object "A little while ago you asked me what a snoll doper was," she said.
"Unfortunately interstellar law severely limits us in our choice of marriageable males, and we can take only those who refuse to conform to the sexual mores of their own societies." She did something to the object that caused it to extend itself into a long, tubular affair.
" This is a snoll doper ."
She prodded his ribs. "March," she said.
He marched. Halfway up the plank he glanced back over his shoulder for a better look at the object pressed against his back.
It bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun.
Question:
What role does the snoll doper play in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Snoll doper appears in every letter that is hidden in History of English Literature by Hippolyte Adolphe Taine, a book favored by Hebert Quidley, from which he finds these letters and starts his observation. Quidley finds these words several times when he secretly reads the letters in the book whenever a girl comes to put a new letter in the book. He is fascinated by the first girl called Kay Smith who takes the first letter after he notices it. From then on, he has been guessing the meaning of snoll doper. At first, Quidley thinks that snoll doper means a person who has close relationships with Kay, like a boyfriend or a husband. He is annoyed by this possibility after having sexual behaviors with Kay, which causes him to secretly read the fourth letter before Kay comes to pick it up. When Kay finds out that Quidley has been reading her letter, she tells him to come with her to deliver the snoll doper to Jilka, where Quidley is relieved because he realizes that snoll doper is the name of an object, not an identity. On their way to Jilka’s place, Quidley keeps asking Kay what the meaning of snoll doper is, but Kay doesn’t tell him. At the end of the story, snoll doper turns out to be the name of a shotgun, which is what the letters are for, a requisition for the shotgun. Those letters are sent toward Kay because she is the ship’s stock girl who delivers the guns. In conclusion, snoll doper is a word that puzzles Quidley throughout the whole story and causes him to be caught by Kay, the purpose of those secret letters transmitted between Kay and other girls through the book, and an object that forces Quidley to go into the ship.",
"The snoll doper is an important part of the story because it was a part of all of the messages. When Herbert read all of the different messages scribbled in bookmarks, he saw that the names of the girls repeated in every message, as well as the words: snoll doper. He was very curious to understand what they meant, so he decided to meet Kay. After Kay tells Herbet who she is, Herbert asks her whan snoll dopers are. She responds by taking out a shotgun-like weapon and forcing him onto their ship. ",
"The snoll doper is mentioned in the very first message that Quidley reads. It is also this message that motivates him to investigate further into who Kay is and what exactly is a snoll doper. Most of the story revolves around him trying to crack the meaning behind snoll doper, and he wonders if he could just ask Kay directly about it when she comes to his apartment. The snoll dopper is also largely relevant in helping him figure out what the next The snoll doper is still relevant either, after he finds out Kay’s identity and has to go back to her planet with her. ",
"Snoll doper is one of the phrases that Quidley finds in the unintelligible messages from the library. It intrigues him because he doesn’t understand what it means. It makes him think about its potential meaning. Eventually, it leads to his mini-relationship with Kay. When he asks her about this term, she says she will share its meaning later. Thus, she brings him to the ship without any trouble and knows she can use her snoll doper in case Quidley refuses to go. When he does, she presses a snoll doper - a tool similar to a shotgun - against his back and orders him to enter the ship. "
] |
61048
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The Girls From Fieu Dayol
By ROBERT F. YOUNG
They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the background for both had been bedrooms and bars, not libraries.
On page 21 of the Taine tome he happened upon a sheet of yellow copy paper folded in four. Unfolding it, he read:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Sities towms copeis wotnid. Gind snoll doper nckli! Wilbe Fieu Dayol fot ig habe mot toseo knwo—te bijk weil en snoll doper—Klio, asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Since when, Quidley wondered, refolding the paper and putting it back in the book, had high-school typing students taken to reading Taine? Thoughtfully he replaced the book on the shelf and moved deeper into the literature section.
He had just taken down Xenophon's Anabasis when he saw the girl walk in the door.
Let it be said forthwith that old books were not the only item on Herbert Quidley's penchant-list. He liked old wood, too, and old paintings, not to mention old wine and old whiskey. But most of all he liked young girls. He especially liked them when they looked the way Helen of Troy must have looked when Paris took one gander at her and started building his ladder. This one was tall, with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes, and she had a Grecian symmetry of shape that would have made Paris' eyes pop had he been around to take notice. Paris wasn't, but Quidley's eyes, did the job.
After coming in the door, the girl deposited a book on the librarian's desk and headed for the literature section. Quickly Quidley lowered his eyes to the Anabasis and henceforth followed her progress out of their corners. When she came to the O's she paused, took down a book and glanced through it. Then she replaced it and moved on to the P's ... the Q's ... the R's. Barely three feet from him she paused again and took down Taine's History of English Literature .
He simply could not believe it. The odds against two persons taking an interest in so esoteric a volume on a single night in a single library were ten thousand to one. And yet there was no gainsaying that the volume was in the girl's hands, and that she was riffling through it with the air of a seasoned browser.
Presently she returned the book to the shelf, selected another—seemingly at random—and took it over to the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone.
He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time?
He returned Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got
"Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing.
By whom—her boy friend?
Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word
"fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while.
Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine, The Zeitgeist , Quidley watched her take a seemingly haphazard route to the shelf where Taine's History reposed, take the volume down, surreptitiously slip a folded sheet of yellow paper between its pages and return it to the shelf.
After she left he wasted no time in acquainting himself with the second message. It was as unintelligible as the first:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Habe wotnid ig ist ending ifedererer te. T'lide sid Fieu Dayol po jestig toseo knwo, bijk weil en snoll doper entling—Yoolna. asdf ;lkj asdf
;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Well, perhaps not quite as unintelligible. He knew, at least, who Cai was, and he knew—from the reappearance of the words wotnid , Fieu Dayol and snoll doper —that the two communications were in the same code. And certainly it was reasonable to assume that the last word— Yoolna —was the name of the girl he had just seen, and that she was a different person from the Klio whose name had appended the first message.
He refolded the paper, replaced it between the pages, returned the book to the shelf and went back to the reading table and The Zeitgeist .
Kay didn't show up till almost closing time, and he was beginning to think that perhaps she wouldn't come around for the pickup till tomorrow when she finally walked in the door. She employed the same tactics she had employed the previous night, arriving, as though by chance, at the T-section and transferring the message with the same undetectable legerdemain to her purse. This time, when she walked out the door, he was not far behind her.
She climbed into a sleek convertible and pulled into the street. It took him but a moment to gain his hardtop and start out after her. When, several blocks later, she pulled to the curb in front of an all-night coffee bar, he followed suit. After that, it was merely a matter of following her inside.
He decided on Operation Spill-the-sugar. It had stood him in good stead before, and he was rather fond of it. The procedure was quite simple. First you took note of the position of the sugar dispensers, then you situated yourself so that your intended victim was between you and the nearest one, then you ordered coffee without sugar in a low voice, and after the counterman or countergirl had served you, you waited till he/she was out of earshot and asked your i.v. to please pass the sugar. When she did so you let the dispenser slip from your fingers in such a way that some of its contents spilled on her lap—
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, righting it. "Here, let me brush it off."
"It's all right, it's only sugar," she said, laughing.
"I'm hopelessly clumsy," he continued smoothly, brushing the gleaming crystals from her pleated skirt, noting the clean sweep of her thighs.
"I beseech you to forgive me."
"You're forgiven," she said, and he noticed then that she spoke with a slight accent.
"If you like, you can send it to the cleaners and have them send the bill to me. My address is 61 Park Place." He pulled out his wallet, chose an appropriate card, and handed it to her—
Herbert Quidley: Profiliste
Her forehead crinkled. " Profiliste? "
"I paint profiles with words," he said. "You may have run across some of my pieces in the Better Magazines. I employ a variety of pseudonyms, of course."
"How interesting." She pronounced it "anteresting."
"Not famous profiles, you understand. Just profiles that strike my fancy." He paused. She had raised her cup to her lips and was taking a dainty sip. "You have a rather striking profile yourself, Miss—"
"Smith. Kay Smith." She set the cup back on the counter and turned and faced him. For a second her eyes seemed to expand till they preoccupied his entire vision, till he could see nothing but their disturbingly clear—and suddenly cold—blueness. Panic touched him, then vanished when she said, "Would you really consider word-painting my profile, Mr. Quidley?"
Would he! "When can I call?"
She hesitated for a moment. Then: "I think it will be better if I call on you. There are quite a number of people living in our—our house. I'm afraid the quarters would be much too cramped for an artist like yourself to concentrate."
Quidley glowed. Usually it required two or three days, and sometimes a week, to reach the apartment phase. "Fine," he said. "When can I expect you?"
She stood up and he got to his feet beside her. She was even taller than he had thought. In fact, if he hadn't been wearing Cuban heels, she'd have been taller than he was. "I'll be in town night after next," she said. "Will nine o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Good-by for now then, Mr. Quidley."
He was so elated that when he arrived at his apartment he actually did try to write a profile. His own, of course. He sat down at his custom-built chrome-trimmed desk, inserted a blank sheet of paper in his custom-built typewriter and tried to arrange his thoughts. But as usual his mind raced ahead of the moment, and he saw the title, Self Profile , nestling noticeably on the contents page of one of the Better Magazines, and presently he saw the piece itself in all its splendid array of colorful rhetoric, sparkling imagery and scintillating wit, occupying a two-page spread.
It was some time before he returned to reality, and when he did the first thing that met his eyes was the uncompromisingly blank sheet of paper. Hurriedly he typed out a letter to his father, requesting an advance on his allowance, then, after a tall glass of vintage wine, he went to bed.
In telling him that she would be in town two nights hence, Kay had unwittingly apprised him that there would be no exchange of messages until that time, so the next evening he skipped his vigil at the library. The following evening, however, after readying his apartment for the forthcoming assignation, he hied himself to his reading-table post and took up The Zeitgeist once again.
He had not thought it possible that there could be a third such woman.
And yet there she was, walking in the door, tall and blue-eyed and graceful; dark of hair and noble of mien; browsing in the philosophy section now, now the fiction section, now moving leisurely into the literature aisle and toward the T's....
The camouflage had varied, but the message was typical enough:
fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; Cai: Gind en snoll doper nckli! Wotnid antwaterer Fieu Dayol hid jestig snoll doper ifedererer te. Dep gogensplo snoll dopers ensing!—Gorka. fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl;
Judging from the repeated use of the words, snoll dopers were the topic of the day. Annoyed, Quidley replaced the message and put the book back on the shelf. Then he returned to his apartment to await Kay.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her point-blank what a snoll doper was; whether she would reveal the nature of the amateur secret society to which she and Klio and Yoolna and Gorka belonged. It virtually had to be an amateur secret society. Unless, of course, they were foreigners. But what on earth foreign organization would be quixotic enough to employ Taine's History of English Literature as a communications medium when there was a telephone in every drugstore and a mailbox on every corner?
Somehow the words "what on earth foreign organization" got turned around in his mind and became "what foreign organization on earth" and before he could summon his common sense to succor him, he experienced a rather bad moment. By the time the door chimes sounded he was his normal self again.
He straightened his tie with nervous fingers, checked to see if his shirt cuffs protruded the proper length from his coat sleeves, and looked around the room to see if everything was in place. Everything was—the typewriter uncovered and centered on the chrome-trimmed desk, with the sheaf of crinkly first-sheets beside it; the reference books stacked imposingly nearby; Harper's , The Atlantic and The Saturday Review showing conspicuously in the magazine rack; the newly opened bottle of bourbon and the two snifter glasses on the sideboard; the small table set cozily for two—
The chimes sounded again. He opened the door.
She walked in with a demure, "Hello." He took her wrap. When he saw what she was wearing he had to tilt his head back so that his eyes wouldn't fall out of their sockets.
Skin, mostly, in the upper regions. White, glowing skin on which her long hair lay like forest pools. As for her dress, it was as though she had fallen forward into immaculate snow, half-burying her breasts before catching herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired.
He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it."
"It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's the present company, Miss Smith." "Call me Kay."
They touched glasses: "Your liquor is as exquisite as your living room, Herbert. I shall have to come here more often." "I hope you will, Kay."
"Though such conduct, I'm told, is morally reprehensible on the planet Earth." "Not in this particular circle. Your hair is lovely." "Thank you.... You haven't mentioned my perfume yet. Perhaps I'm standing too far away.... There!" "It's—it's as lovely as your hair, Kay." "Um, kiss me again." "I—I never figured—I mean, I engaged a caterer to serve us dinner at 9:30." "Call him up. Make it 10:30."
The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place.
He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of—
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form:
a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj
Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications!
You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though.
Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb.
He remembered Kay's odd accent. Was that the way a person would speak English if her own language ran something like " ist ifedereret, hid jestig snoll doper adwo ?"
He remembered the way she had looked at him in the coffee bar.
He remembered the material of her dress.
He remembered how she had come to his room.
"I didn't know you had a taste for Taine."
Her voice seemed to come from far away, but she was standing right beside him, tall and bewitching; Helenesque as ever. Her blue eyes became great wells into which he found himself falling. With an effort, he pulled himself back. "You're early tonight," he said lamely.
She appropriated the message, read it. "Put the book back," she said presently. Then, when he complied: "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka. After that I'm going to take you home to meet my folks."
The relieved sigh he heard was his own.
They climbed into her convertible and she nosed it into the moving line of cars. "How long have you been reading my mail?" she asked.
"Since the night before I met you."
"Was that the reason you spilled the sugar?"
"Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?"
She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet."
He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?"
"Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back."
He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on the seat, lit a cigarette and exhaled a mixture of smoke and relief. On the way to meet her folks. So it was just an ordinary secret society after all. And here he'd been thinking that she was the key figure in a Martian plot to blow up Earth—
Her folks !
Abruptly the full implication of the words got through to him, and he sat bolt-up-right on the seat. He was starting to climb out of the car when he saw Kay coming down the walk. Anyway, running away wouldn't solve his problem. A complete disappearing act was in order, and a complete disappearing act would take time. Meanwhile he would play along with her.
A station wagon came up behind them, slowed, and matched its speed with theirs. "Someone's following us," Quidley said.
"Probably Jilka."
Five minutes later the station wagon turned down a side street and disappeared. "She's no longer with us," Quidley said.
"She's got to pick someone up. She'll meet us later."
"At your folks'?"
"At the ship."
The city was thinning out around them now, and a few stars were visible in the night sky. Quidley watched them thoughtfully for a while. Then:
"What ship?" he said.
"The one we're going to Fieu Dayol on."
" Fieu Dayol? "
"Persei 17 to you. I said I was going to take you home to meet my folks, didn't I?"
"In other words, you're kidnapping me."
She shook her head vehemently. "I most certainly am not! Neither according to interstellar law or your own. When you compromised me, you made yourself liable in the eyes of both."
"But why pick on me? There must be plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Why don't you marry one of them?"
"For two reasons: one, you're the particular man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications services and forbidding us to appear in public places. It was devised to facilitate the prosecution of interstellar black marketeers, but we're subject to it, too, and have to contrive communications systems of our own."
"But why were all the messages addressed to you?"
"They weren't messages. They were requisitions. I'm the ship's stock girl."
April fields stretched darkly away on either side of the highway. Presently she turned down a rutted road between two of them and they bounced and swayed back to a black blur of trees. "Here we are," she said.
Gradually he made out the sphere. It blended so flawlessly with its background that he wouldn't have been able to see it at all if he hadn't been informed of its existence. A gangplank sloped down from an open lock and came to rest just within the fringe of the trees.
Lights danced in the darkness behind them as another car jounced down the rutted road. "Jilka," Kay said. "I wonder if she got him."
Apparently she had. At least there was a man with her—a rather woebegone, wilted creature who didn't even look up as they passed. Quidley watched them ascend the gangplank, the man in the lead, and disappear into the ship.
"Next," Kay said.
Quidley shook his head. "You're not taking me to another planet!"
She opened her purse and pulled out a small metallic object "A little while ago you asked me what a snoll doper was," she said.
"Unfortunately interstellar law severely limits us in our choice of marriageable males, and we can take only those who refuse to conform to the sexual mores of their own societies." She did something to the object that caused it to extend itself into a long, tubular affair.
" This is a snoll doper ."
She prodded his ribs. "March," she said.
He marched. Halfway up the plank he glanced back over his shoulder for a better look at the object pressed against his back.
It bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun.
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Who is Herbert Quidley, and what are his characteristics?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Girls from Fieu Dayol by Robert F. Young.
Relevant chunks:
The Girls From Fieu Dayol
By ROBERT F. YOUNG
They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the background for both had been bedrooms and bars, not libraries.
On page 21 of the Taine tome he happened upon a sheet of yellow copy paper folded in four. Unfolding it, he read:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Sities towms copeis wotnid. Gind snoll doper nckli! Wilbe Fieu Dayol fot ig habe mot toseo knwo—te bijk weil en snoll doper—Klio, asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Since when, Quidley wondered, refolding the paper and putting it back in the book, had high-school typing students taken to reading Taine? Thoughtfully he replaced the book on the shelf and moved deeper into the literature section.
He had just taken down Xenophon's Anabasis when he saw the girl walk in the door.
Let it be said forthwith that old books were not the only item on Herbert Quidley's penchant-list. He liked old wood, too, and old paintings, not to mention old wine and old whiskey. But most of all he liked young girls. He especially liked them when they looked the way Helen of Troy must have looked when Paris took one gander at her and started building his ladder. This one was tall, with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes, and she had a Grecian symmetry of shape that would have made Paris' eyes pop had he been around to take notice. Paris wasn't, but Quidley's eyes, did the job.
After coming in the door, the girl deposited a book on the librarian's desk and headed for the literature section. Quickly Quidley lowered his eyes to the Anabasis and henceforth followed her progress out of their corners. When she came to the O's she paused, took down a book and glanced through it. Then she replaced it and moved on to the P's ... the Q's ... the R's. Barely three feet from him she paused again and took down Taine's History of English Literature .
He simply could not believe it. The odds against two persons taking an interest in so esoteric a volume on a single night in a single library were ten thousand to one. And yet there was no gainsaying that the volume was in the girl's hands, and that she was riffling through it with the air of a seasoned browser.
Presently she returned the book to the shelf, selected another—seemingly at random—and took it over to the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone.
He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time?
He returned Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got
"Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing.
By whom—her boy friend?
Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word
"fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while.
Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine, The Zeitgeist , Quidley watched her take a seemingly haphazard route to the shelf where Taine's History reposed, take the volume down, surreptitiously slip a folded sheet of yellow paper between its pages and return it to the shelf.
After she left he wasted no time in acquainting himself with the second message. It was as unintelligible as the first:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Habe wotnid ig ist ending ifedererer te. T'lide sid Fieu Dayol po jestig toseo knwo, bijk weil en snoll doper entling—Yoolna. asdf ;lkj asdf
;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Well, perhaps not quite as unintelligible. He knew, at least, who Cai was, and he knew—from the reappearance of the words wotnid , Fieu Dayol and snoll doper —that the two communications were in the same code. And certainly it was reasonable to assume that the last word— Yoolna —was the name of the girl he had just seen, and that she was a different person from the Klio whose name had appended the first message.
He refolded the paper, replaced it between the pages, returned the book to the shelf and went back to the reading table and The Zeitgeist .
Kay didn't show up till almost closing time, and he was beginning to think that perhaps she wouldn't come around for the pickup till tomorrow when she finally walked in the door. She employed the same tactics she had employed the previous night, arriving, as though by chance, at the T-section and transferring the message with the same undetectable legerdemain to her purse. This time, when she walked out the door, he was not far behind her.
She climbed into a sleek convertible and pulled into the street. It took him but a moment to gain his hardtop and start out after her. When, several blocks later, she pulled to the curb in front of an all-night coffee bar, he followed suit. After that, it was merely a matter of following her inside.
He decided on Operation Spill-the-sugar. It had stood him in good stead before, and he was rather fond of it. The procedure was quite simple. First you took note of the position of the sugar dispensers, then you situated yourself so that your intended victim was between you and the nearest one, then you ordered coffee without sugar in a low voice, and after the counterman or countergirl had served you, you waited till he/she was out of earshot and asked your i.v. to please pass the sugar. When she did so you let the dispenser slip from your fingers in such a way that some of its contents spilled on her lap—
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, righting it. "Here, let me brush it off."
"It's all right, it's only sugar," she said, laughing.
"I'm hopelessly clumsy," he continued smoothly, brushing the gleaming crystals from her pleated skirt, noting the clean sweep of her thighs.
"I beseech you to forgive me."
"You're forgiven," she said, and he noticed then that she spoke with a slight accent.
"If you like, you can send it to the cleaners and have them send the bill to me. My address is 61 Park Place." He pulled out his wallet, chose an appropriate card, and handed it to her—
Herbert Quidley: Profiliste
Her forehead crinkled. " Profiliste? "
"I paint profiles with words," he said. "You may have run across some of my pieces in the Better Magazines. I employ a variety of pseudonyms, of course."
"How interesting." She pronounced it "anteresting."
"Not famous profiles, you understand. Just profiles that strike my fancy." He paused. She had raised her cup to her lips and was taking a dainty sip. "You have a rather striking profile yourself, Miss—"
"Smith. Kay Smith." She set the cup back on the counter and turned and faced him. For a second her eyes seemed to expand till they preoccupied his entire vision, till he could see nothing but their disturbingly clear—and suddenly cold—blueness. Panic touched him, then vanished when she said, "Would you really consider word-painting my profile, Mr. Quidley?"
Would he! "When can I call?"
She hesitated for a moment. Then: "I think it will be better if I call on you. There are quite a number of people living in our—our house. I'm afraid the quarters would be much too cramped for an artist like yourself to concentrate."
Quidley glowed. Usually it required two or three days, and sometimes a week, to reach the apartment phase. "Fine," he said. "When can I expect you?"
She stood up and he got to his feet beside her. She was even taller than he had thought. In fact, if he hadn't been wearing Cuban heels, she'd have been taller than he was. "I'll be in town night after next," she said. "Will nine o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Good-by for now then, Mr. Quidley."
He was so elated that when he arrived at his apartment he actually did try to write a profile. His own, of course. He sat down at his custom-built chrome-trimmed desk, inserted a blank sheet of paper in his custom-built typewriter and tried to arrange his thoughts. But as usual his mind raced ahead of the moment, and he saw the title, Self Profile , nestling noticeably on the contents page of one of the Better Magazines, and presently he saw the piece itself in all its splendid array of colorful rhetoric, sparkling imagery and scintillating wit, occupying a two-page spread.
It was some time before he returned to reality, and when he did the first thing that met his eyes was the uncompromisingly blank sheet of paper. Hurriedly he typed out a letter to his father, requesting an advance on his allowance, then, after a tall glass of vintage wine, he went to bed.
In telling him that she would be in town two nights hence, Kay had unwittingly apprised him that there would be no exchange of messages until that time, so the next evening he skipped his vigil at the library. The following evening, however, after readying his apartment for the forthcoming assignation, he hied himself to his reading-table post and took up The Zeitgeist once again.
He had not thought it possible that there could be a third such woman.
And yet there she was, walking in the door, tall and blue-eyed and graceful; dark of hair and noble of mien; browsing in the philosophy section now, now the fiction section, now moving leisurely into the literature aisle and toward the T's....
The camouflage had varied, but the message was typical enough:
fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; Cai: Gind en snoll doper nckli! Wotnid antwaterer Fieu Dayol hid jestig snoll doper ifedererer te. Dep gogensplo snoll dopers ensing!—Gorka. fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl;
Judging from the repeated use of the words, snoll dopers were the topic of the day. Annoyed, Quidley replaced the message and put the book back on the shelf. Then he returned to his apartment to await Kay.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her point-blank what a snoll doper was; whether she would reveal the nature of the amateur secret society to which she and Klio and Yoolna and Gorka belonged. It virtually had to be an amateur secret society. Unless, of course, they were foreigners. But what on earth foreign organization would be quixotic enough to employ Taine's History of English Literature as a communications medium when there was a telephone in every drugstore and a mailbox on every corner?
Somehow the words "what on earth foreign organization" got turned around in his mind and became "what foreign organization on earth" and before he could summon his common sense to succor him, he experienced a rather bad moment. By the time the door chimes sounded he was his normal self again.
He straightened his tie with nervous fingers, checked to see if his shirt cuffs protruded the proper length from his coat sleeves, and looked around the room to see if everything was in place. Everything was—the typewriter uncovered and centered on the chrome-trimmed desk, with the sheaf of crinkly first-sheets beside it; the reference books stacked imposingly nearby; Harper's , The Atlantic and The Saturday Review showing conspicuously in the magazine rack; the newly opened bottle of bourbon and the two snifter glasses on the sideboard; the small table set cozily for two—
The chimes sounded again. He opened the door.
She walked in with a demure, "Hello." He took her wrap. When he saw what she was wearing he had to tilt his head back so that his eyes wouldn't fall out of their sockets.
Skin, mostly, in the upper regions. White, glowing skin on which her long hair lay like forest pools. As for her dress, it was as though she had fallen forward into immaculate snow, half-burying her breasts before catching herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired.
He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it."
"It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's the present company, Miss Smith." "Call me Kay."
They touched glasses: "Your liquor is as exquisite as your living room, Herbert. I shall have to come here more often." "I hope you will, Kay."
"Though such conduct, I'm told, is morally reprehensible on the planet Earth." "Not in this particular circle. Your hair is lovely." "Thank you.... You haven't mentioned my perfume yet. Perhaps I'm standing too far away.... There!" "It's—it's as lovely as your hair, Kay." "Um, kiss me again." "I—I never figured—I mean, I engaged a caterer to serve us dinner at 9:30." "Call him up. Make it 10:30."
The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place.
He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of—
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form:
a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj
Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications!
You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though.
Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb.
He remembered Kay's odd accent. Was that the way a person would speak English if her own language ran something like " ist ifedereret, hid jestig snoll doper adwo ?"
He remembered the way she had looked at him in the coffee bar.
He remembered the material of her dress.
He remembered how she had come to his room.
"I didn't know you had a taste for Taine."
Her voice seemed to come from far away, but she was standing right beside him, tall and bewitching; Helenesque as ever. Her blue eyes became great wells into which he found himself falling. With an effort, he pulled himself back. "You're early tonight," he said lamely.
She appropriated the message, read it. "Put the book back," she said presently. Then, when he complied: "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka. After that I'm going to take you home to meet my folks."
The relieved sigh he heard was his own.
They climbed into her convertible and she nosed it into the moving line of cars. "How long have you been reading my mail?" she asked.
"Since the night before I met you."
"Was that the reason you spilled the sugar?"
"Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?"
She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet."
He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?"
"Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back."
He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on the seat, lit a cigarette and exhaled a mixture of smoke and relief. On the way to meet her folks. So it was just an ordinary secret society after all. And here he'd been thinking that she was the key figure in a Martian plot to blow up Earth—
Her folks !
Abruptly the full implication of the words got through to him, and he sat bolt-up-right on the seat. He was starting to climb out of the car when he saw Kay coming down the walk. Anyway, running away wouldn't solve his problem. A complete disappearing act was in order, and a complete disappearing act would take time. Meanwhile he would play along with her.
A station wagon came up behind them, slowed, and matched its speed with theirs. "Someone's following us," Quidley said.
"Probably Jilka."
Five minutes later the station wagon turned down a side street and disappeared. "She's no longer with us," Quidley said.
"She's got to pick someone up. She'll meet us later."
"At your folks'?"
"At the ship."
The city was thinning out around them now, and a few stars were visible in the night sky. Quidley watched them thoughtfully for a while. Then:
"What ship?" he said.
"The one we're going to Fieu Dayol on."
" Fieu Dayol? "
"Persei 17 to you. I said I was going to take you home to meet my folks, didn't I?"
"In other words, you're kidnapping me."
She shook her head vehemently. "I most certainly am not! Neither according to interstellar law or your own. When you compromised me, you made yourself liable in the eyes of both."
"But why pick on me? There must be plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Why don't you marry one of them?"
"For two reasons: one, you're the particular man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications services and forbidding us to appear in public places. It was devised to facilitate the prosecution of interstellar black marketeers, but we're subject to it, too, and have to contrive communications systems of our own."
"But why were all the messages addressed to you?"
"They weren't messages. They were requisitions. I'm the ship's stock girl."
April fields stretched darkly away on either side of the highway. Presently she turned down a rutted road between two of them and they bounced and swayed back to a black blur of trees. "Here we are," she said.
Gradually he made out the sphere. It blended so flawlessly with its background that he wouldn't have been able to see it at all if he hadn't been informed of its existence. A gangplank sloped down from an open lock and came to rest just within the fringe of the trees.
Lights danced in the darkness behind them as another car jounced down the rutted road. "Jilka," Kay said. "I wonder if she got him."
Apparently she had. At least there was a man with her—a rather woebegone, wilted creature who didn't even look up as they passed. Quidley watched them ascend the gangplank, the man in the lead, and disappear into the ship.
"Next," Kay said.
Quidley shook his head. "You're not taking me to another planet!"
She opened her purse and pulled out a small metallic object "A little while ago you asked me what a snoll doper was," she said.
"Unfortunately interstellar law severely limits us in our choice of marriageable males, and we can take only those who refuse to conform to the sexual mores of their own societies." She did something to the object that caused it to extend itself into a long, tubular affair.
" This is a snoll doper ."
She prodded his ribs. "March," she said.
He marched. Halfway up the plank he glanced back over his shoulder for a better look at the object pressed against his back.
It bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun.
Question:
Who is Herbert Quidley, and what are his characteristics?
Answer:
|
[
"Herbert Quidley is a profiliste who often stays in the library. He has a variety of pseudonyms for his career, each of which has its own card in his wallet. He owns a hardtop. He lives at 61 Park Place. He often wears Cuban heels. His favorite little magazine is The Zeitgeist. He likes everything old, such as old books, old wines, old woods, and old paintings. But most of all, he likes young girls, which is why he starts his observations on Kay’s behavior, a girl who exchanges letters through the book in the library. Quidley is a very thoughtful and careful person because whenever he reads the mysterious letters in the book, he always puts the letters back in the book and replaces the book on the shelf. He always sits at the reading table to observe the girls. He knows very well about romantic stuff and how to have sexual relationships with girls as he has his own skill called Operation Spill-the-sugar to start a conversation with a stranger woman. However, Quidley has little moral on sexual relationships because whether the targeted girl has a boyfriend would not deter his intention to conquer her.",
"Herbert Quidley is a Profiliste who loves books. He is very intelligent, and he uses his smarts to pick up women. Being a profiliste entails writing profiles with words. He loves to meet different women, but he never likes to commit to one woman. He likes to spend a lot of his time at a library, which is where he met Kay. He is also very curious, as he wanted to figure out what the messages in the bookmarks meant. At the end, Herbert gets kidnapped by Kay because of his disagreement with marriage, because Kay could only take a man who didn’t fit his planet’s sexual mores. ",
"Herbert Quidley is a man who enjoys old books and always reads at the library. He is described as someone who does not only like old items but also young girls. Although Quidley tends to keep to himself, he is courageous enough to snoop through Kay’s messages in the Taine book. He also becomes more and more interested in solving the mystery behind the messages, even though he cannot understand what any of them say. Quidley is strategic as well, using Operation-Spill-the-sugar as a means to talk to Kay. He also does his best to get to know her, in hopes of trying to figure out more about the mystery behind the messages. When Kay tells him to come with her, he is a little nervous and even says that she is kidnapping him. He does, however, feel a little scared once Kay threatens him.",
"Herbert Quidley is a profiliste who likes young women, old books, and old whiskey. He is a dreamer and can indulge in fantasizing about his future novel and the success it could bring. He is a romantic and loves conventionally beautiful things. He doesn’t enjoy commitment - we understand that when he thinks about marriage as the most terrifying thing ever and almost runs away from Kay when he thinks that she’s taking him to meet her parents. He loves mysteries, like the coded messages he finds in the library. As Kay says, he doesn’t conform to the sexual mores of society - he likes relationships with no obligations. He also considers it normal to follow a woman without talking to her first and peer at her messages. "
] |
61048
|
The Girls From Fieu Dayol
By ROBERT F. YOUNG
They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the background for both had been bedrooms and bars, not libraries.
On page 21 of the Taine tome he happened upon a sheet of yellow copy paper folded in four. Unfolding it, he read:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Sities towms copeis wotnid. Gind snoll doper nckli! Wilbe Fieu Dayol fot ig habe mot toseo knwo—te bijk weil en snoll doper—Klio, asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Since when, Quidley wondered, refolding the paper and putting it back in the book, had high-school typing students taken to reading Taine? Thoughtfully he replaced the book on the shelf and moved deeper into the literature section.
He had just taken down Xenophon's Anabasis when he saw the girl walk in the door.
Let it be said forthwith that old books were not the only item on Herbert Quidley's penchant-list. He liked old wood, too, and old paintings, not to mention old wine and old whiskey. But most of all he liked young girls. He especially liked them when they looked the way Helen of Troy must have looked when Paris took one gander at her and started building his ladder. This one was tall, with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes, and she had a Grecian symmetry of shape that would have made Paris' eyes pop had he been around to take notice. Paris wasn't, but Quidley's eyes, did the job.
After coming in the door, the girl deposited a book on the librarian's desk and headed for the literature section. Quickly Quidley lowered his eyes to the Anabasis and henceforth followed her progress out of their corners. When she came to the O's she paused, took down a book and glanced through it. Then she replaced it and moved on to the P's ... the Q's ... the R's. Barely three feet from him she paused again and took down Taine's History of English Literature .
He simply could not believe it. The odds against two persons taking an interest in so esoteric a volume on a single night in a single library were ten thousand to one. And yet there was no gainsaying that the volume was in the girl's hands, and that she was riffling through it with the air of a seasoned browser.
Presently she returned the book to the shelf, selected another—seemingly at random—and took it over to the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone.
He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time?
He returned Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got
"Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing.
By whom—her boy friend?
Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word
"fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while.
Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine, The Zeitgeist , Quidley watched her take a seemingly haphazard route to the shelf where Taine's History reposed, take the volume down, surreptitiously slip a folded sheet of yellow paper between its pages and return it to the shelf.
After she left he wasted no time in acquainting himself with the second message. It was as unintelligible as the first:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Habe wotnid ig ist ending ifedererer te. T'lide sid Fieu Dayol po jestig toseo knwo, bijk weil en snoll doper entling—Yoolna. asdf ;lkj asdf
;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Well, perhaps not quite as unintelligible. He knew, at least, who Cai was, and he knew—from the reappearance of the words wotnid , Fieu Dayol and snoll doper —that the two communications were in the same code. And certainly it was reasonable to assume that the last word— Yoolna —was the name of the girl he had just seen, and that she was a different person from the Klio whose name had appended the first message.
He refolded the paper, replaced it between the pages, returned the book to the shelf and went back to the reading table and The Zeitgeist .
Kay didn't show up till almost closing time, and he was beginning to think that perhaps she wouldn't come around for the pickup till tomorrow when she finally walked in the door. She employed the same tactics she had employed the previous night, arriving, as though by chance, at the T-section and transferring the message with the same undetectable legerdemain to her purse. This time, when she walked out the door, he was not far behind her.
She climbed into a sleek convertible and pulled into the street. It took him but a moment to gain his hardtop and start out after her. When, several blocks later, she pulled to the curb in front of an all-night coffee bar, he followed suit. After that, it was merely a matter of following her inside.
He decided on Operation Spill-the-sugar. It had stood him in good stead before, and he was rather fond of it. The procedure was quite simple. First you took note of the position of the sugar dispensers, then you situated yourself so that your intended victim was between you and the nearest one, then you ordered coffee without sugar in a low voice, and after the counterman or countergirl had served you, you waited till he/she was out of earshot and asked your i.v. to please pass the sugar. When she did so you let the dispenser slip from your fingers in such a way that some of its contents spilled on her lap—
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, righting it. "Here, let me brush it off."
"It's all right, it's only sugar," she said, laughing.
"I'm hopelessly clumsy," he continued smoothly, brushing the gleaming crystals from her pleated skirt, noting the clean sweep of her thighs.
"I beseech you to forgive me."
"You're forgiven," she said, and he noticed then that she spoke with a slight accent.
"If you like, you can send it to the cleaners and have them send the bill to me. My address is 61 Park Place." He pulled out his wallet, chose an appropriate card, and handed it to her—
Herbert Quidley: Profiliste
Her forehead crinkled. " Profiliste? "
"I paint profiles with words," he said. "You may have run across some of my pieces in the Better Magazines. I employ a variety of pseudonyms, of course."
"How interesting." She pronounced it "anteresting."
"Not famous profiles, you understand. Just profiles that strike my fancy." He paused. She had raised her cup to her lips and was taking a dainty sip. "You have a rather striking profile yourself, Miss—"
"Smith. Kay Smith." She set the cup back on the counter and turned and faced him. For a second her eyes seemed to expand till they preoccupied his entire vision, till he could see nothing but their disturbingly clear—and suddenly cold—blueness. Panic touched him, then vanished when she said, "Would you really consider word-painting my profile, Mr. Quidley?"
Would he! "When can I call?"
She hesitated for a moment. Then: "I think it will be better if I call on you. There are quite a number of people living in our—our house. I'm afraid the quarters would be much too cramped for an artist like yourself to concentrate."
Quidley glowed. Usually it required two or three days, and sometimes a week, to reach the apartment phase. "Fine," he said. "When can I expect you?"
She stood up and he got to his feet beside her. She was even taller than he had thought. In fact, if he hadn't been wearing Cuban heels, she'd have been taller than he was. "I'll be in town night after next," she said. "Will nine o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Good-by for now then, Mr. Quidley."
He was so elated that when he arrived at his apartment he actually did try to write a profile. His own, of course. He sat down at his custom-built chrome-trimmed desk, inserted a blank sheet of paper in his custom-built typewriter and tried to arrange his thoughts. But as usual his mind raced ahead of the moment, and he saw the title, Self Profile , nestling noticeably on the contents page of one of the Better Magazines, and presently he saw the piece itself in all its splendid array of colorful rhetoric, sparkling imagery and scintillating wit, occupying a two-page spread.
It was some time before he returned to reality, and when he did the first thing that met his eyes was the uncompromisingly blank sheet of paper. Hurriedly he typed out a letter to his father, requesting an advance on his allowance, then, after a tall glass of vintage wine, he went to bed.
In telling him that she would be in town two nights hence, Kay had unwittingly apprised him that there would be no exchange of messages until that time, so the next evening he skipped his vigil at the library. The following evening, however, after readying his apartment for the forthcoming assignation, he hied himself to his reading-table post and took up The Zeitgeist once again.
He had not thought it possible that there could be a third such woman.
And yet there she was, walking in the door, tall and blue-eyed and graceful; dark of hair and noble of mien; browsing in the philosophy section now, now the fiction section, now moving leisurely into the literature aisle and toward the T's....
The camouflage had varied, but the message was typical enough:
fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; Cai: Gind en snoll doper nckli! Wotnid antwaterer Fieu Dayol hid jestig snoll doper ifedererer te. Dep gogensplo snoll dopers ensing!—Gorka. fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl;
Judging from the repeated use of the words, snoll dopers were the topic of the day. Annoyed, Quidley replaced the message and put the book back on the shelf. Then he returned to his apartment to await Kay.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her point-blank what a snoll doper was; whether she would reveal the nature of the amateur secret society to which she and Klio and Yoolna and Gorka belonged. It virtually had to be an amateur secret society. Unless, of course, they were foreigners. But what on earth foreign organization would be quixotic enough to employ Taine's History of English Literature as a communications medium when there was a telephone in every drugstore and a mailbox on every corner?
Somehow the words "what on earth foreign organization" got turned around in his mind and became "what foreign organization on earth" and before he could summon his common sense to succor him, he experienced a rather bad moment. By the time the door chimes sounded he was his normal self again.
He straightened his tie with nervous fingers, checked to see if his shirt cuffs protruded the proper length from his coat sleeves, and looked around the room to see if everything was in place. Everything was—the typewriter uncovered and centered on the chrome-trimmed desk, with the sheaf of crinkly first-sheets beside it; the reference books stacked imposingly nearby; Harper's , The Atlantic and The Saturday Review showing conspicuously in the magazine rack; the newly opened bottle of bourbon and the two snifter glasses on the sideboard; the small table set cozily for two—
The chimes sounded again. He opened the door.
She walked in with a demure, "Hello." He took her wrap. When he saw what she was wearing he had to tilt his head back so that his eyes wouldn't fall out of their sockets.
Skin, mostly, in the upper regions. White, glowing skin on which her long hair lay like forest pools. As for her dress, it was as though she had fallen forward into immaculate snow, half-burying her breasts before catching herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired.
He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it."
"It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's the present company, Miss Smith." "Call me Kay."
They touched glasses: "Your liquor is as exquisite as your living room, Herbert. I shall have to come here more often." "I hope you will, Kay."
"Though such conduct, I'm told, is morally reprehensible on the planet Earth." "Not in this particular circle. Your hair is lovely." "Thank you.... You haven't mentioned my perfume yet. Perhaps I'm standing too far away.... There!" "It's—it's as lovely as your hair, Kay." "Um, kiss me again." "I—I never figured—I mean, I engaged a caterer to serve us dinner at 9:30." "Call him up. Make it 10:30."
The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place.
He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of—
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form:
a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj
Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications!
You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though.
Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb.
He remembered Kay's odd accent. Was that the way a person would speak English if her own language ran something like " ist ifedereret, hid jestig snoll doper adwo ?"
He remembered the way she had looked at him in the coffee bar.
He remembered the material of her dress.
He remembered how she had come to his room.
"I didn't know you had a taste for Taine."
Her voice seemed to come from far away, but she was standing right beside him, tall and bewitching; Helenesque as ever. Her blue eyes became great wells into which he found himself falling. With an effort, he pulled himself back. "You're early tonight," he said lamely.
She appropriated the message, read it. "Put the book back," she said presently. Then, when he complied: "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka. After that I'm going to take you home to meet my folks."
The relieved sigh he heard was his own.
They climbed into her convertible and she nosed it into the moving line of cars. "How long have you been reading my mail?" she asked.
"Since the night before I met you."
"Was that the reason you spilled the sugar?"
"Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?"
She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet."
He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?"
"Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back."
He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on the seat, lit a cigarette and exhaled a mixture of smoke and relief. On the way to meet her folks. So it was just an ordinary secret society after all. And here he'd been thinking that she was the key figure in a Martian plot to blow up Earth—
Her folks !
Abruptly the full implication of the words got through to him, and he sat bolt-up-right on the seat. He was starting to climb out of the car when he saw Kay coming down the walk. Anyway, running away wouldn't solve his problem. A complete disappearing act was in order, and a complete disappearing act would take time. Meanwhile he would play along with her.
A station wagon came up behind them, slowed, and matched its speed with theirs. "Someone's following us," Quidley said.
"Probably Jilka."
Five minutes later the station wagon turned down a side street and disappeared. "She's no longer with us," Quidley said.
"She's got to pick someone up. She'll meet us later."
"At your folks'?"
"At the ship."
The city was thinning out around them now, and a few stars were visible in the night sky. Quidley watched them thoughtfully for a while. Then:
"What ship?" he said.
"The one we're going to Fieu Dayol on."
" Fieu Dayol? "
"Persei 17 to you. I said I was going to take you home to meet my folks, didn't I?"
"In other words, you're kidnapping me."
She shook her head vehemently. "I most certainly am not! Neither according to interstellar law or your own. When you compromised me, you made yourself liable in the eyes of both."
"But why pick on me? There must be plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Why don't you marry one of them?"
"For two reasons: one, you're the particular man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications services and forbidding us to appear in public places. It was devised to facilitate the prosecution of interstellar black marketeers, but we're subject to it, too, and have to contrive communications systems of our own."
"But why were all the messages addressed to you?"
"They weren't messages. They were requisitions. I'm the ship's stock girl."
April fields stretched darkly away on either side of the highway. Presently she turned down a rutted road between two of them and they bounced and swayed back to a black blur of trees. "Here we are," she said.
Gradually he made out the sphere. It blended so flawlessly with its background that he wouldn't have been able to see it at all if he hadn't been informed of its existence. A gangplank sloped down from an open lock and came to rest just within the fringe of the trees.
Lights danced in the darkness behind them as another car jounced down the rutted road. "Jilka," Kay said. "I wonder if she got him."
Apparently she had. At least there was a man with her—a rather woebegone, wilted creature who didn't even look up as they passed. Quidley watched them ascend the gangplank, the man in the lead, and disappear into the ship.
"Next," Kay said.
Quidley shook his head. "You're not taking me to another planet!"
She opened her purse and pulled out a small metallic object "A little while ago you asked me what a snoll doper was," she said.
"Unfortunately interstellar law severely limits us in our choice of marriageable males, and we can take only those who refuse to conform to the sexual mores of their own societies." She did something to the object that caused it to extend itself into a long, tubular affair.
" This is a snoll doper ."
She prodded his ribs. "March," she said.
He marched. Halfway up the plank he glanced back over his shoulder for a better look at the object pressed against his back.
It bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun.
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Girls from Fieu Dayol by Robert F. Young.
Relevant chunks:
The Girls From Fieu Dayol
By ROBERT F. YOUNG
They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the background for both had been bedrooms and bars, not libraries.
On page 21 of the Taine tome he happened upon a sheet of yellow copy paper folded in four. Unfolding it, he read:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Sities towms copeis wotnid. Gind snoll doper nckli! Wilbe Fieu Dayol fot ig habe mot toseo knwo—te bijk weil en snoll doper—Klio, asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Since when, Quidley wondered, refolding the paper and putting it back in the book, had high-school typing students taken to reading Taine? Thoughtfully he replaced the book on the shelf and moved deeper into the literature section.
He had just taken down Xenophon's Anabasis when he saw the girl walk in the door.
Let it be said forthwith that old books were not the only item on Herbert Quidley's penchant-list. He liked old wood, too, and old paintings, not to mention old wine and old whiskey. But most of all he liked young girls. He especially liked them when they looked the way Helen of Troy must have looked when Paris took one gander at her and started building his ladder. This one was tall, with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes, and she had a Grecian symmetry of shape that would have made Paris' eyes pop had he been around to take notice. Paris wasn't, but Quidley's eyes, did the job.
After coming in the door, the girl deposited a book on the librarian's desk and headed for the literature section. Quickly Quidley lowered his eyes to the Anabasis and henceforth followed her progress out of their corners. When she came to the O's she paused, took down a book and glanced through it. Then she replaced it and moved on to the P's ... the Q's ... the R's. Barely three feet from him she paused again and took down Taine's History of English Literature .
He simply could not believe it. The odds against two persons taking an interest in so esoteric a volume on a single night in a single library were ten thousand to one. And yet there was no gainsaying that the volume was in the girl's hands, and that she was riffling through it with the air of a seasoned browser.
Presently she returned the book to the shelf, selected another—seemingly at random—and took it over to the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone.
He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time?
He returned Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got
"Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing.
By whom—her boy friend?
Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word
"fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while.
Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine, The Zeitgeist , Quidley watched her take a seemingly haphazard route to the shelf where Taine's History reposed, take the volume down, surreptitiously slip a folded sheet of yellow paper between its pages and return it to the shelf.
After she left he wasted no time in acquainting himself with the second message. It was as unintelligible as the first:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Habe wotnid ig ist ending ifedererer te. T'lide sid Fieu Dayol po jestig toseo knwo, bijk weil en snoll doper entling—Yoolna. asdf ;lkj asdf
;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Well, perhaps not quite as unintelligible. He knew, at least, who Cai was, and he knew—from the reappearance of the words wotnid , Fieu Dayol and snoll doper —that the two communications were in the same code. And certainly it was reasonable to assume that the last word— Yoolna —was the name of the girl he had just seen, and that she was a different person from the Klio whose name had appended the first message.
He refolded the paper, replaced it between the pages, returned the book to the shelf and went back to the reading table and The Zeitgeist .
Kay didn't show up till almost closing time, and he was beginning to think that perhaps she wouldn't come around for the pickup till tomorrow when she finally walked in the door. She employed the same tactics she had employed the previous night, arriving, as though by chance, at the T-section and transferring the message with the same undetectable legerdemain to her purse. This time, when she walked out the door, he was not far behind her.
She climbed into a sleek convertible and pulled into the street. It took him but a moment to gain his hardtop and start out after her. When, several blocks later, she pulled to the curb in front of an all-night coffee bar, he followed suit. After that, it was merely a matter of following her inside.
He decided on Operation Spill-the-sugar. It had stood him in good stead before, and he was rather fond of it. The procedure was quite simple. First you took note of the position of the sugar dispensers, then you situated yourself so that your intended victim was between you and the nearest one, then you ordered coffee without sugar in a low voice, and after the counterman or countergirl had served you, you waited till he/she was out of earshot and asked your i.v. to please pass the sugar. When she did so you let the dispenser slip from your fingers in such a way that some of its contents spilled on her lap—
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, righting it. "Here, let me brush it off."
"It's all right, it's only sugar," she said, laughing.
"I'm hopelessly clumsy," he continued smoothly, brushing the gleaming crystals from her pleated skirt, noting the clean sweep of her thighs.
"I beseech you to forgive me."
"You're forgiven," she said, and he noticed then that she spoke with a slight accent.
"If you like, you can send it to the cleaners and have them send the bill to me. My address is 61 Park Place." He pulled out his wallet, chose an appropriate card, and handed it to her—
Herbert Quidley: Profiliste
Her forehead crinkled. " Profiliste? "
"I paint profiles with words," he said. "You may have run across some of my pieces in the Better Magazines. I employ a variety of pseudonyms, of course."
"How interesting." She pronounced it "anteresting."
"Not famous profiles, you understand. Just profiles that strike my fancy." He paused. She had raised her cup to her lips and was taking a dainty sip. "You have a rather striking profile yourself, Miss—"
"Smith. Kay Smith." She set the cup back on the counter and turned and faced him. For a second her eyes seemed to expand till they preoccupied his entire vision, till he could see nothing but their disturbingly clear—and suddenly cold—blueness. Panic touched him, then vanished when she said, "Would you really consider word-painting my profile, Mr. Quidley?"
Would he! "When can I call?"
She hesitated for a moment. Then: "I think it will be better if I call on you. There are quite a number of people living in our—our house. I'm afraid the quarters would be much too cramped for an artist like yourself to concentrate."
Quidley glowed. Usually it required two or three days, and sometimes a week, to reach the apartment phase. "Fine," he said. "When can I expect you?"
She stood up and he got to his feet beside her. She was even taller than he had thought. In fact, if he hadn't been wearing Cuban heels, she'd have been taller than he was. "I'll be in town night after next," she said. "Will nine o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Good-by for now then, Mr. Quidley."
He was so elated that when he arrived at his apartment he actually did try to write a profile. His own, of course. He sat down at his custom-built chrome-trimmed desk, inserted a blank sheet of paper in his custom-built typewriter and tried to arrange his thoughts. But as usual his mind raced ahead of the moment, and he saw the title, Self Profile , nestling noticeably on the contents page of one of the Better Magazines, and presently he saw the piece itself in all its splendid array of colorful rhetoric, sparkling imagery and scintillating wit, occupying a two-page spread.
It was some time before he returned to reality, and when he did the first thing that met his eyes was the uncompromisingly blank sheet of paper. Hurriedly he typed out a letter to his father, requesting an advance on his allowance, then, after a tall glass of vintage wine, he went to bed.
In telling him that she would be in town two nights hence, Kay had unwittingly apprised him that there would be no exchange of messages until that time, so the next evening he skipped his vigil at the library. The following evening, however, after readying his apartment for the forthcoming assignation, he hied himself to his reading-table post and took up The Zeitgeist once again.
He had not thought it possible that there could be a third such woman.
And yet there she was, walking in the door, tall and blue-eyed and graceful; dark of hair and noble of mien; browsing in the philosophy section now, now the fiction section, now moving leisurely into the literature aisle and toward the T's....
The camouflage had varied, but the message was typical enough:
fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; Cai: Gind en snoll doper nckli! Wotnid antwaterer Fieu Dayol hid jestig snoll doper ifedererer te. Dep gogensplo snoll dopers ensing!—Gorka. fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl;
Judging from the repeated use of the words, snoll dopers were the topic of the day. Annoyed, Quidley replaced the message and put the book back on the shelf. Then he returned to his apartment to await Kay.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her point-blank what a snoll doper was; whether she would reveal the nature of the amateur secret society to which she and Klio and Yoolna and Gorka belonged. It virtually had to be an amateur secret society. Unless, of course, they were foreigners. But what on earth foreign organization would be quixotic enough to employ Taine's History of English Literature as a communications medium when there was a telephone in every drugstore and a mailbox on every corner?
Somehow the words "what on earth foreign organization" got turned around in his mind and became "what foreign organization on earth" and before he could summon his common sense to succor him, he experienced a rather bad moment. By the time the door chimes sounded he was his normal self again.
He straightened his tie with nervous fingers, checked to see if his shirt cuffs protruded the proper length from his coat sleeves, and looked around the room to see if everything was in place. Everything was—the typewriter uncovered and centered on the chrome-trimmed desk, with the sheaf of crinkly first-sheets beside it; the reference books stacked imposingly nearby; Harper's , The Atlantic and The Saturday Review showing conspicuously in the magazine rack; the newly opened bottle of bourbon and the two snifter glasses on the sideboard; the small table set cozily for two—
The chimes sounded again. He opened the door.
She walked in with a demure, "Hello." He took her wrap. When he saw what she was wearing he had to tilt his head back so that his eyes wouldn't fall out of their sockets.
Skin, mostly, in the upper regions. White, glowing skin on which her long hair lay like forest pools. As for her dress, it was as though she had fallen forward into immaculate snow, half-burying her breasts before catching herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired.
He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it."
"It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's the present company, Miss Smith." "Call me Kay."
They touched glasses: "Your liquor is as exquisite as your living room, Herbert. I shall have to come here more often." "I hope you will, Kay."
"Though such conduct, I'm told, is morally reprehensible on the planet Earth." "Not in this particular circle. Your hair is lovely." "Thank you.... You haven't mentioned my perfume yet. Perhaps I'm standing too far away.... There!" "It's—it's as lovely as your hair, Kay." "Um, kiss me again." "I—I never figured—I mean, I engaged a caterer to serve us dinner at 9:30." "Call him up. Make it 10:30."
The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place.
He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of—
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form:
a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj
Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications!
You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though.
Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb.
He remembered Kay's odd accent. Was that the way a person would speak English if her own language ran something like " ist ifedereret, hid jestig snoll doper adwo ?"
He remembered the way she had looked at him in the coffee bar.
He remembered the material of her dress.
He remembered how she had come to his room.
"I didn't know you had a taste for Taine."
Her voice seemed to come from far away, but she was standing right beside him, tall and bewitching; Helenesque as ever. Her blue eyes became great wells into which he found himself falling. With an effort, he pulled himself back. "You're early tonight," he said lamely.
She appropriated the message, read it. "Put the book back," she said presently. Then, when he complied: "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka. After that I'm going to take you home to meet my folks."
The relieved sigh he heard was his own.
They climbed into her convertible and she nosed it into the moving line of cars. "How long have you been reading my mail?" she asked.
"Since the night before I met you."
"Was that the reason you spilled the sugar?"
"Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?"
She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet."
He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?"
"Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back."
He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on the seat, lit a cigarette and exhaled a mixture of smoke and relief. On the way to meet her folks. So it was just an ordinary secret society after all. And here he'd been thinking that she was the key figure in a Martian plot to blow up Earth—
Her folks !
Abruptly the full implication of the words got through to him, and he sat bolt-up-right on the seat. He was starting to climb out of the car when he saw Kay coming down the walk. Anyway, running away wouldn't solve his problem. A complete disappearing act was in order, and a complete disappearing act would take time. Meanwhile he would play along with her.
A station wagon came up behind them, slowed, and matched its speed with theirs. "Someone's following us," Quidley said.
"Probably Jilka."
Five minutes later the station wagon turned down a side street and disappeared. "She's no longer with us," Quidley said.
"She's got to pick someone up. She'll meet us later."
"At your folks'?"
"At the ship."
The city was thinning out around them now, and a few stars were visible in the night sky. Quidley watched them thoughtfully for a while. Then:
"What ship?" he said.
"The one we're going to Fieu Dayol on."
" Fieu Dayol? "
"Persei 17 to you. I said I was going to take you home to meet my folks, didn't I?"
"In other words, you're kidnapping me."
She shook her head vehemently. "I most certainly am not! Neither according to interstellar law or your own. When you compromised me, you made yourself liable in the eyes of both."
"But why pick on me? There must be plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Why don't you marry one of them?"
"For two reasons: one, you're the particular man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications services and forbidding us to appear in public places. It was devised to facilitate the prosecution of interstellar black marketeers, but we're subject to it, too, and have to contrive communications systems of our own."
"But why were all the messages addressed to you?"
"They weren't messages. They were requisitions. I'm the ship's stock girl."
April fields stretched darkly away on either side of the highway. Presently she turned down a rutted road between two of them and they bounced and swayed back to a black blur of trees. "Here we are," she said.
Gradually he made out the sphere. It blended so flawlessly with its background that he wouldn't have been able to see it at all if he hadn't been informed of its existence. A gangplank sloped down from an open lock and came to rest just within the fringe of the trees.
Lights danced in the darkness behind them as another car jounced down the rutted road. "Jilka," Kay said. "I wonder if she got him."
Apparently she had. At least there was a man with her—a rather woebegone, wilted creature who didn't even look up as they passed. Quidley watched them ascend the gangplank, the man in the lead, and disappear into the ship.
"Next," Kay said.
Quidley shook his head. "You're not taking me to another planet!"
She opened her purse and pulled out a small metallic object "A little while ago you asked me what a snoll doper was," she said.
"Unfortunately interstellar law severely limits us in our choice of marriageable males, and we can take only those who refuse to conform to the sexual mores of their own societies." She did something to the object that caused it to extend itself into a long, tubular affair.
" This is a snoll doper ."
She prodded his ribs. "March," she said.
He marched. Halfway up the plank he glanced back over his shoulder for a better look at the object pressed against his back.
It bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun.
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"Herbert Quidley finds a yellow paper with unintelligible words folded in the book called History of English Literature by Hippolyte Adolphe Taine. After he continues to work, he sees a girl come in, browse randomly, and take Taine’s book. The girl quickly riffles through the book, puts it back on the shelf, and leaves the library. After the girl leaves, Quidley checks the book, noticing the disappearance of the yellow paper. He learns the girl’s name, Kay Smith, from the librarian and goes home. On his way home, he guesses that the paper is a kind of message transmitted through an esoteric book. He guesses the identity of the person who might do this message job with Kay, none of which pleases him as he has a liking for the girl, so he decides to observe this messaging action for a while.\n\nThe following day, when Quidley waits at the library, a girl different from Kay comes to the library, puts another paper in Taine’s book, and leaves. Quidley sees the paper and finds another batch of unintelligible words, from which he finds two common words, Fieu Dayol and snoll doper. He puts back the letter and goes back to his seat. When the library is about to close, Kay comes to take the paper and leaves. Quidley follows behind her into a coffee bar. He intentionally spills the sugar on her, which allows him to start talking to her. Throughout the conversation, Quidley reveals his identity as a profiliste and accepts Kay’s request to make her a profile. They set up a time to meet next time. After they separate, Quidley goes home and writes a letter to his father for the allowance.\n\nTwo days later, Quidley goes to the library again and sits at his reading-table post with his favorite magazine. He sees the third woman come in and do the same thing as the previous girls. He reads the new message and returns to his apartment waiting for Kay. He thinks about the meaning of snoll doper. When Kay comes, they do something sexually. The following day, puzzled by the secret of the snoll doper, Quidley decides to read the message before the exchange happens. Kay finds out that Quidley is reading the message. She tells him to come with her to deliver the snoll doper to Jilka and meet her folks. When Quidley waits in the car, he realizes the possible true identity of Kay and what may happen next. Quidley learns from the conversation with Kay that they are heading to the ship to Fieu Dayol. He also learns that Kay is the ship’s stock girl, and all the messages are actually requisitions for the snoll dopers. He realizes that he is kidnapped to another planet, Fieu Dayol, where women outnumber men. He sees a man with Jilka ascend the ship and disappear. Kay forces Quidley to go into the ship by pointing him with a shotgun, which is called snoll doper in Kay’s language.\n",
"The plot follows Herbert Quidley. Herbert is a man who loves to engage with women. One day, he was in the public library when he saw a weird message scribbled on a bookmark in a random book. He then saw a very beautiful lady enter the library, and go to the book which had weird writing. Herbert learnt that her name was Kay. Herbert thought this was weird, but he thought it was even weirder when the next day another girl came and left another bookmark in the same book. Herbert understood that the girls were using the book as a means of communication, but he didn’t understand the messages. After the original girl came back, Herbert decided to follow her to a bar in order to meet her. Herbert uses a trick in order to first approach her, and they end up getting to know each other. They agree to meet in a few days at Herbert’s house. Herbert was very surprised to learn that there was a third woman communicating with the other two girls. After Herbert and Kay get to know each other more on their date, Herbert decides to confront Kay about her book in their next outing. When he confronts Kay, Kay tells him that she was in fact from an alien species, and that she used the books to communicate with her crew. Kay tells Herbert that he wants to take her to her home planet and mate with him, but when Herbert tries to refuse Kay takes out a shotgun and forces him onto their ship. ",
"Herbert Quidley’s penchant for old books has never been much of a problem for him. He finds a sheet of yellow paper in one of his Taine tomes and unfolds it, making him wonder what high school students read. He notices a girl walk through the door, noting that she deposits a book at the librarian’s desk and heads towards the literature section. Although Quidley lowers his eyes, he finds that she also has picked up the book that he had earlier. When he goes to see the book again later, he notes that the makeshift bookmark is now gone. He thinks back to the message again and wonders who could have left it for her. Quidley later finds out that the girl’s friend is another girl, and he tries to figure out what the second message means. Kay shows up again to leave another message, and Quidley follows her out to an all-night coffee shop to get her attention by spilling sugar. He introduces himself to her, and she responds that her name is Kay Smith. He feels intimidated by the girl for a moment, before she asks if he is really willing to word-paint her profile. She asks if they can meet at his place, and he agrees. A date is set up, and Quidley goes home. Although Kay is not in town for the next two days, he notices that there is now a third woman involved. The message is impossible to understand again, and he wonders if they are part of some secret society. When Kay comes, she is wearing a beautiful dress. Later, as Quidley is coming up with a new novel idea, he finds the fourth message again. As he thinks about her, Kay suddenly appears and tells him to put the book back. He is curious as to why she can’t just give Jilka a snoll doper, but Kay says it is because of regulations. Soon, she tells him that she is planning to take him back to Fieu Dayol because he had compromised her and because there are not enough men back on the planet. Kay also reveals that all of the messages were requisitions because she is the ship’s stock girl. The two arrive at the ship, and Quidley watches as Jilka and another man board the ship. Quidley tries to protest against boarding the ship himself, but Kay points a snoll doper at him. He notices that the object looks strikingly like a shotgun. ",
"Herbert Quidley is at a library. He opens Taine's History of English Literature and finds a sheet of paper with unintelligible text. He picks up another book. While reading it, he sees a beautiful young girl enter the library, take the sheet of paper from Taine's book, get another random book from the shelf, and leave. The next day, he notices another girl who slips a piece of paper between the book’s pages. When she leaves, he looks at the sheet of paper - it also has some unintelligible message. Later, the first girl - he calls her Kay - shows up and takes the message from the book. He follows her into a coffee bar. Quidley spills sugar on her lap, which helps him start a conversation with her. He tells her she can send him the cleaners’ bill and gives her his business card with his name, address, and profession - profiliste. He explains that he paints profiles with words. She introduces herself and asks if we can paint her profile. They decide to meet two days later at his place. Before meeting with her, he spends some time in the library and sees another girl who leaves the third coded message. He is confused and doesn’t understand why these girls are using this medium of communication. Quidley comes back home and waits for Kay. She arrives in a pretty white dress - he is mesmerized. They drink some bourbon and soon kiss. She tells him to postpone the dinner. The following evening Quidley goes to the library. He fantasizes about his future novel and finds a new message. Kay finds him reading the message. She look at the paper and then tells him to follow her. They get in her convertible, and Kay says that she has to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka, and then she will take Quidley to meet her folks. He admits to reading all their messages. She stops the car near a brick apartment building and leaves for several minutes. Quidley thinks of running away, but Kay comes back quickly. They drive to some ship which is supposed to take them to Fieu Dayol or Persei 17. She explains that she can and has to marry him now because he compromised her and because there are very few men on Fieu Dayol. She also tells him that those papers were requisitions, not messages - Kay is the ship’s stock girl. They pull up to a ship, parked somewhere among country fields. Jilka arrives with some man who slowly walks to the ship. When Quidley refuses to go with them, Kay tells him that the Interstellar law allows them to take only the ones who do not conform to the sexual mores of their society. She presses a snoll doper - a term he saw in the messages and later asked about - against his back. He realizes it’s something similar to a shotgun and starts marching up the plank. "
] |
61048
|
The Girls From Fieu Dayol
By ROBERT F. YOUNG
They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the background for both had been bedrooms and bars, not libraries.
On page 21 of the Taine tome he happened upon a sheet of yellow copy paper folded in four. Unfolding it, he read:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Sities towms copeis wotnid. Gind snoll doper nckli! Wilbe Fieu Dayol fot ig habe mot toseo knwo—te bijk weil en snoll doper—Klio, asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Since when, Quidley wondered, refolding the paper and putting it back in the book, had high-school typing students taken to reading Taine? Thoughtfully he replaced the book on the shelf and moved deeper into the literature section.
He had just taken down Xenophon's Anabasis when he saw the girl walk in the door.
Let it be said forthwith that old books were not the only item on Herbert Quidley's penchant-list. He liked old wood, too, and old paintings, not to mention old wine and old whiskey. But most of all he liked young girls. He especially liked them when they looked the way Helen of Troy must have looked when Paris took one gander at her and started building his ladder. This one was tall, with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes, and she had a Grecian symmetry of shape that would have made Paris' eyes pop had he been around to take notice. Paris wasn't, but Quidley's eyes, did the job.
After coming in the door, the girl deposited a book on the librarian's desk and headed for the literature section. Quickly Quidley lowered his eyes to the Anabasis and henceforth followed her progress out of their corners. When she came to the O's she paused, took down a book and glanced through it. Then she replaced it and moved on to the P's ... the Q's ... the R's. Barely three feet from him she paused again and took down Taine's History of English Literature .
He simply could not believe it. The odds against two persons taking an interest in so esoteric a volume on a single night in a single library were ten thousand to one. And yet there was no gainsaying that the volume was in the girl's hands, and that she was riffling through it with the air of a seasoned browser.
Presently she returned the book to the shelf, selected another—seemingly at random—and took it over to the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone.
He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time?
He returned Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got
"Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing.
By whom—her boy friend?
Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word
"fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while.
Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine, The Zeitgeist , Quidley watched her take a seemingly haphazard route to the shelf where Taine's History reposed, take the volume down, surreptitiously slip a folded sheet of yellow paper between its pages and return it to the shelf.
After she left he wasted no time in acquainting himself with the second message. It was as unintelligible as the first:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Habe wotnid ig ist ending ifedererer te. T'lide sid Fieu Dayol po jestig toseo knwo, bijk weil en snoll doper entling—Yoolna. asdf ;lkj asdf
;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Well, perhaps not quite as unintelligible. He knew, at least, who Cai was, and he knew—from the reappearance of the words wotnid , Fieu Dayol and snoll doper —that the two communications were in the same code. And certainly it was reasonable to assume that the last word— Yoolna —was the name of the girl he had just seen, and that she was a different person from the Klio whose name had appended the first message.
He refolded the paper, replaced it between the pages, returned the book to the shelf and went back to the reading table and The Zeitgeist .
Kay didn't show up till almost closing time, and he was beginning to think that perhaps she wouldn't come around for the pickup till tomorrow when she finally walked in the door. She employed the same tactics she had employed the previous night, arriving, as though by chance, at the T-section and transferring the message with the same undetectable legerdemain to her purse. This time, when she walked out the door, he was not far behind her.
She climbed into a sleek convertible and pulled into the street. It took him but a moment to gain his hardtop and start out after her. When, several blocks later, she pulled to the curb in front of an all-night coffee bar, he followed suit. After that, it was merely a matter of following her inside.
He decided on Operation Spill-the-sugar. It had stood him in good stead before, and he was rather fond of it. The procedure was quite simple. First you took note of the position of the sugar dispensers, then you situated yourself so that your intended victim was between you and the nearest one, then you ordered coffee without sugar in a low voice, and after the counterman or countergirl had served you, you waited till he/she was out of earshot and asked your i.v. to please pass the sugar. When she did so you let the dispenser slip from your fingers in such a way that some of its contents spilled on her lap—
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, righting it. "Here, let me brush it off."
"It's all right, it's only sugar," she said, laughing.
"I'm hopelessly clumsy," he continued smoothly, brushing the gleaming crystals from her pleated skirt, noting the clean sweep of her thighs.
"I beseech you to forgive me."
"You're forgiven," she said, and he noticed then that she spoke with a slight accent.
"If you like, you can send it to the cleaners and have them send the bill to me. My address is 61 Park Place." He pulled out his wallet, chose an appropriate card, and handed it to her—
Herbert Quidley: Profiliste
Her forehead crinkled. " Profiliste? "
"I paint profiles with words," he said. "You may have run across some of my pieces in the Better Magazines. I employ a variety of pseudonyms, of course."
"How interesting." She pronounced it "anteresting."
"Not famous profiles, you understand. Just profiles that strike my fancy." He paused. She had raised her cup to her lips and was taking a dainty sip. "You have a rather striking profile yourself, Miss—"
"Smith. Kay Smith." She set the cup back on the counter and turned and faced him. For a second her eyes seemed to expand till they preoccupied his entire vision, till he could see nothing but their disturbingly clear—and suddenly cold—blueness. Panic touched him, then vanished when she said, "Would you really consider word-painting my profile, Mr. Quidley?"
Would he! "When can I call?"
She hesitated for a moment. Then: "I think it will be better if I call on you. There are quite a number of people living in our—our house. I'm afraid the quarters would be much too cramped for an artist like yourself to concentrate."
Quidley glowed. Usually it required two or three days, and sometimes a week, to reach the apartment phase. "Fine," he said. "When can I expect you?"
She stood up and he got to his feet beside her. She was even taller than he had thought. In fact, if he hadn't been wearing Cuban heels, she'd have been taller than he was. "I'll be in town night after next," she said. "Will nine o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Good-by for now then, Mr. Quidley."
He was so elated that when he arrived at his apartment he actually did try to write a profile. His own, of course. He sat down at his custom-built chrome-trimmed desk, inserted a blank sheet of paper in his custom-built typewriter and tried to arrange his thoughts. But as usual his mind raced ahead of the moment, and he saw the title, Self Profile , nestling noticeably on the contents page of one of the Better Magazines, and presently he saw the piece itself in all its splendid array of colorful rhetoric, sparkling imagery and scintillating wit, occupying a two-page spread.
It was some time before he returned to reality, and when he did the first thing that met his eyes was the uncompromisingly blank sheet of paper. Hurriedly he typed out a letter to his father, requesting an advance on his allowance, then, after a tall glass of vintage wine, he went to bed.
In telling him that she would be in town two nights hence, Kay had unwittingly apprised him that there would be no exchange of messages until that time, so the next evening he skipped his vigil at the library. The following evening, however, after readying his apartment for the forthcoming assignation, he hied himself to his reading-table post and took up The Zeitgeist once again.
He had not thought it possible that there could be a third such woman.
And yet there she was, walking in the door, tall and blue-eyed and graceful; dark of hair and noble of mien; browsing in the philosophy section now, now the fiction section, now moving leisurely into the literature aisle and toward the T's....
The camouflage had varied, but the message was typical enough:
fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; Cai: Gind en snoll doper nckli! Wotnid antwaterer Fieu Dayol hid jestig snoll doper ifedererer te. Dep gogensplo snoll dopers ensing!—Gorka. fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl;
Judging from the repeated use of the words, snoll dopers were the topic of the day. Annoyed, Quidley replaced the message and put the book back on the shelf. Then he returned to his apartment to await Kay.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her point-blank what a snoll doper was; whether she would reveal the nature of the amateur secret society to which she and Klio and Yoolna and Gorka belonged. It virtually had to be an amateur secret society. Unless, of course, they were foreigners. But what on earth foreign organization would be quixotic enough to employ Taine's History of English Literature as a communications medium when there was a telephone in every drugstore and a mailbox on every corner?
Somehow the words "what on earth foreign organization" got turned around in his mind and became "what foreign organization on earth" and before he could summon his common sense to succor him, he experienced a rather bad moment. By the time the door chimes sounded he was his normal self again.
He straightened his tie with nervous fingers, checked to see if his shirt cuffs protruded the proper length from his coat sleeves, and looked around the room to see if everything was in place. Everything was—the typewriter uncovered and centered on the chrome-trimmed desk, with the sheaf of crinkly first-sheets beside it; the reference books stacked imposingly nearby; Harper's , The Atlantic and The Saturday Review showing conspicuously in the magazine rack; the newly opened bottle of bourbon and the two snifter glasses on the sideboard; the small table set cozily for two—
The chimes sounded again. He opened the door.
She walked in with a demure, "Hello." He took her wrap. When he saw what she was wearing he had to tilt his head back so that his eyes wouldn't fall out of their sockets.
Skin, mostly, in the upper regions. White, glowing skin on which her long hair lay like forest pools. As for her dress, it was as though she had fallen forward into immaculate snow, half-burying her breasts before catching herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired.
He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it."
"It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's the present company, Miss Smith." "Call me Kay."
They touched glasses: "Your liquor is as exquisite as your living room, Herbert. I shall have to come here more often." "I hope you will, Kay."
"Though such conduct, I'm told, is morally reprehensible on the planet Earth." "Not in this particular circle. Your hair is lovely." "Thank you.... You haven't mentioned my perfume yet. Perhaps I'm standing too far away.... There!" "It's—it's as lovely as your hair, Kay." "Um, kiss me again." "I—I never figured—I mean, I engaged a caterer to serve us dinner at 9:30." "Call him up. Make it 10:30."
The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place.
He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of—
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form:
a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj
Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications!
You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though.
Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb.
He remembered Kay's odd accent. Was that the way a person would speak English if her own language ran something like " ist ifedereret, hid jestig snoll doper adwo ?"
He remembered the way she had looked at him in the coffee bar.
He remembered the material of her dress.
He remembered how she had come to his room.
"I didn't know you had a taste for Taine."
Her voice seemed to come from far away, but she was standing right beside him, tall and bewitching; Helenesque as ever. Her blue eyes became great wells into which he found himself falling. With an effort, he pulled himself back. "You're early tonight," he said lamely.
She appropriated the message, read it. "Put the book back," she said presently. Then, when he complied: "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka. After that I'm going to take you home to meet my folks."
The relieved sigh he heard was his own.
They climbed into her convertible and she nosed it into the moving line of cars. "How long have you been reading my mail?" she asked.
"Since the night before I met you."
"Was that the reason you spilled the sugar?"
"Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?"
She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet."
He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?"
"Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back."
He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on the seat, lit a cigarette and exhaled a mixture of smoke and relief. On the way to meet her folks. So it was just an ordinary secret society after all. And here he'd been thinking that she was the key figure in a Martian plot to blow up Earth—
Her folks !
Abruptly the full implication of the words got through to him, and he sat bolt-up-right on the seat. He was starting to climb out of the car when he saw Kay coming down the walk. Anyway, running away wouldn't solve his problem. A complete disappearing act was in order, and a complete disappearing act would take time. Meanwhile he would play along with her.
A station wagon came up behind them, slowed, and matched its speed with theirs. "Someone's following us," Quidley said.
"Probably Jilka."
Five minutes later the station wagon turned down a side street and disappeared. "She's no longer with us," Quidley said.
"She's got to pick someone up. She'll meet us later."
"At your folks'?"
"At the ship."
The city was thinning out around them now, and a few stars were visible in the night sky. Quidley watched them thoughtfully for a while. Then:
"What ship?" he said.
"The one we're going to Fieu Dayol on."
" Fieu Dayol? "
"Persei 17 to you. I said I was going to take you home to meet my folks, didn't I?"
"In other words, you're kidnapping me."
She shook her head vehemently. "I most certainly am not! Neither according to interstellar law or your own. When you compromised me, you made yourself liable in the eyes of both."
"But why pick on me? There must be plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Why don't you marry one of them?"
"For two reasons: one, you're the particular man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications services and forbidding us to appear in public places. It was devised to facilitate the prosecution of interstellar black marketeers, but we're subject to it, too, and have to contrive communications systems of our own."
"But why were all the messages addressed to you?"
"They weren't messages. They were requisitions. I'm the ship's stock girl."
April fields stretched darkly away on either side of the highway. Presently she turned down a rutted road between two of them and they bounced and swayed back to a black blur of trees. "Here we are," she said.
Gradually he made out the sphere. It blended so flawlessly with its background that he wouldn't have been able to see it at all if he hadn't been informed of its existence. A gangplank sloped down from an open lock and came to rest just within the fringe of the trees.
Lights danced in the darkness behind them as another car jounced down the rutted road. "Jilka," Kay said. "I wonder if she got him."
Apparently she had. At least there was a man with her—a rather woebegone, wilted creature who didn't even look up as they passed. Quidley watched them ascend the gangplank, the man in the lead, and disappear into the ship.
"Next," Kay said.
Quidley shook his head. "You're not taking me to another planet!"
She opened her purse and pulled out a small metallic object "A little while ago you asked me what a snoll doper was," she said.
"Unfortunately interstellar law severely limits us in our choice of marriageable males, and we can take only those who refuse to conform to the sexual mores of their own societies." She did something to the object that caused it to extend itself into a long, tubular affair.
" This is a snoll doper ."
She prodded his ribs. "March," she said.
He marched. Halfway up the plank he glanced back over his shoulder for a better look at the object pressed against his back.
It bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun.
|
Who is Kay Smith, and what are her characteristics?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Girls from Fieu Dayol by Robert F. Young.
Relevant chunks:
The Girls From Fieu Dayol
By ROBERT F. YOUNG
They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the background for both had been bedrooms and bars, not libraries.
On page 21 of the Taine tome he happened upon a sheet of yellow copy paper folded in four. Unfolding it, he read:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Sities towms copeis wotnid. Gind snoll doper nckli! Wilbe Fieu Dayol fot ig habe mot toseo knwo—te bijk weil en snoll doper—Klio, asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Since when, Quidley wondered, refolding the paper and putting it back in the book, had high-school typing students taken to reading Taine? Thoughtfully he replaced the book on the shelf and moved deeper into the literature section.
He had just taken down Xenophon's Anabasis when he saw the girl walk in the door.
Let it be said forthwith that old books were not the only item on Herbert Quidley's penchant-list. He liked old wood, too, and old paintings, not to mention old wine and old whiskey. But most of all he liked young girls. He especially liked them when they looked the way Helen of Troy must have looked when Paris took one gander at her and started building his ladder. This one was tall, with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes, and she had a Grecian symmetry of shape that would have made Paris' eyes pop had he been around to take notice. Paris wasn't, but Quidley's eyes, did the job.
After coming in the door, the girl deposited a book on the librarian's desk and headed for the literature section. Quickly Quidley lowered his eyes to the Anabasis and henceforth followed her progress out of their corners. When she came to the O's she paused, took down a book and glanced through it. Then she replaced it and moved on to the P's ... the Q's ... the R's. Barely three feet from him she paused again and took down Taine's History of English Literature .
He simply could not believe it. The odds against two persons taking an interest in so esoteric a volume on a single night in a single library were ten thousand to one. And yet there was no gainsaying that the volume was in the girl's hands, and that she was riffling through it with the air of a seasoned browser.
Presently she returned the book to the shelf, selected another—seemingly at random—and took it over to the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone.
He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time?
He returned Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got
"Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing.
By whom—her boy friend?
Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word
"fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while.
Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine, The Zeitgeist , Quidley watched her take a seemingly haphazard route to the shelf where Taine's History reposed, take the volume down, surreptitiously slip a folded sheet of yellow paper between its pages and return it to the shelf.
After she left he wasted no time in acquainting himself with the second message. It was as unintelligible as the first:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Habe wotnid ig ist ending ifedererer te. T'lide sid Fieu Dayol po jestig toseo knwo, bijk weil en snoll doper entling—Yoolna. asdf ;lkj asdf
;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Well, perhaps not quite as unintelligible. He knew, at least, who Cai was, and he knew—from the reappearance of the words wotnid , Fieu Dayol and snoll doper —that the two communications were in the same code. And certainly it was reasonable to assume that the last word— Yoolna —was the name of the girl he had just seen, and that she was a different person from the Klio whose name had appended the first message.
He refolded the paper, replaced it between the pages, returned the book to the shelf and went back to the reading table and The Zeitgeist .
Kay didn't show up till almost closing time, and he was beginning to think that perhaps she wouldn't come around for the pickup till tomorrow when she finally walked in the door. She employed the same tactics she had employed the previous night, arriving, as though by chance, at the T-section and transferring the message with the same undetectable legerdemain to her purse. This time, when she walked out the door, he was not far behind her.
She climbed into a sleek convertible and pulled into the street. It took him but a moment to gain his hardtop and start out after her. When, several blocks later, she pulled to the curb in front of an all-night coffee bar, he followed suit. After that, it was merely a matter of following her inside.
He decided on Operation Spill-the-sugar. It had stood him in good stead before, and he was rather fond of it. The procedure was quite simple. First you took note of the position of the sugar dispensers, then you situated yourself so that your intended victim was between you and the nearest one, then you ordered coffee without sugar in a low voice, and after the counterman or countergirl had served you, you waited till he/she was out of earshot and asked your i.v. to please pass the sugar. When she did so you let the dispenser slip from your fingers in such a way that some of its contents spilled on her lap—
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, righting it. "Here, let me brush it off."
"It's all right, it's only sugar," she said, laughing.
"I'm hopelessly clumsy," he continued smoothly, brushing the gleaming crystals from her pleated skirt, noting the clean sweep of her thighs.
"I beseech you to forgive me."
"You're forgiven," she said, and he noticed then that she spoke with a slight accent.
"If you like, you can send it to the cleaners and have them send the bill to me. My address is 61 Park Place." He pulled out his wallet, chose an appropriate card, and handed it to her—
Herbert Quidley: Profiliste
Her forehead crinkled. " Profiliste? "
"I paint profiles with words," he said. "You may have run across some of my pieces in the Better Magazines. I employ a variety of pseudonyms, of course."
"How interesting." She pronounced it "anteresting."
"Not famous profiles, you understand. Just profiles that strike my fancy." He paused. She had raised her cup to her lips and was taking a dainty sip. "You have a rather striking profile yourself, Miss—"
"Smith. Kay Smith." She set the cup back on the counter and turned and faced him. For a second her eyes seemed to expand till they preoccupied his entire vision, till he could see nothing but their disturbingly clear—and suddenly cold—blueness. Panic touched him, then vanished when she said, "Would you really consider word-painting my profile, Mr. Quidley?"
Would he! "When can I call?"
She hesitated for a moment. Then: "I think it will be better if I call on you. There are quite a number of people living in our—our house. I'm afraid the quarters would be much too cramped for an artist like yourself to concentrate."
Quidley glowed. Usually it required two or three days, and sometimes a week, to reach the apartment phase. "Fine," he said. "When can I expect you?"
She stood up and he got to his feet beside her. She was even taller than he had thought. In fact, if he hadn't been wearing Cuban heels, she'd have been taller than he was. "I'll be in town night after next," she said. "Will nine o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Good-by for now then, Mr. Quidley."
He was so elated that when he arrived at his apartment he actually did try to write a profile. His own, of course. He sat down at his custom-built chrome-trimmed desk, inserted a blank sheet of paper in his custom-built typewriter and tried to arrange his thoughts. But as usual his mind raced ahead of the moment, and he saw the title, Self Profile , nestling noticeably on the contents page of one of the Better Magazines, and presently he saw the piece itself in all its splendid array of colorful rhetoric, sparkling imagery and scintillating wit, occupying a two-page spread.
It was some time before he returned to reality, and when he did the first thing that met his eyes was the uncompromisingly blank sheet of paper. Hurriedly he typed out a letter to his father, requesting an advance on his allowance, then, after a tall glass of vintage wine, he went to bed.
In telling him that she would be in town two nights hence, Kay had unwittingly apprised him that there would be no exchange of messages until that time, so the next evening he skipped his vigil at the library. The following evening, however, after readying his apartment for the forthcoming assignation, he hied himself to his reading-table post and took up The Zeitgeist once again.
He had not thought it possible that there could be a third such woman.
And yet there she was, walking in the door, tall and blue-eyed and graceful; dark of hair and noble of mien; browsing in the philosophy section now, now the fiction section, now moving leisurely into the literature aisle and toward the T's....
The camouflage had varied, but the message was typical enough:
fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; Cai: Gind en snoll doper nckli! Wotnid antwaterer Fieu Dayol hid jestig snoll doper ifedererer te. Dep gogensplo snoll dopers ensing!—Gorka. fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl;
Judging from the repeated use of the words, snoll dopers were the topic of the day. Annoyed, Quidley replaced the message and put the book back on the shelf. Then he returned to his apartment to await Kay.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her point-blank what a snoll doper was; whether she would reveal the nature of the amateur secret society to which she and Klio and Yoolna and Gorka belonged. It virtually had to be an amateur secret society. Unless, of course, they were foreigners. But what on earth foreign organization would be quixotic enough to employ Taine's History of English Literature as a communications medium when there was a telephone in every drugstore and a mailbox on every corner?
Somehow the words "what on earth foreign organization" got turned around in his mind and became "what foreign organization on earth" and before he could summon his common sense to succor him, he experienced a rather bad moment. By the time the door chimes sounded he was his normal self again.
He straightened his tie with nervous fingers, checked to see if his shirt cuffs protruded the proper length from his coat sleeves, and looked around the room to see if everything was in place. Everything was—the typewriter uncovered and centered on the chrome-trimmed desk, with the sheaf of crinkly first-sheets beside it; the reference books stacked imposingly nearby; Harper's , The Atlantic and The Saturday Review showing conspicuously in the magazine rack; the newly opened bottle of bourbon and the two snifter glasses on the sideboard; the small table set cozily for two—
The chimes sounded again. He opened the door.
She walked in with a demure, "Hello." He took her wrap. When he saw what she was wearing he had to tilt his head back so that his eyes wouldn't fall out of their sockets.
Skin, mostly, in the upper regions. White, glowing skin on which her long hair lay like forest pools. As for her dress, it was as though she had fallen forward into immaculate snow, half-burying her breasts before catching herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired.
He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it."
"It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's the present company, Miss Smith." "Call me Kay."
They touched glasses: "Your liquor is as exquisite as your living room, Herbert. I shall have to come here more often." "I hope you will, Kay."
"Though such conduct, I'm told, is morally reprehensible on the planet Earth." "Not in this particular circle. Your hair is lovely." "Thank you.... You haven't mentioned my perfume yet. Perhaps I'm standing too far away.... There!" "It's—it's as lovely as your hair, Kay." "Um, kiss me again." "I—I never figured—I mean, I engaged a caterer to serve us dinner at 9:30." "Call him up. Make it 10:30."
The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place.
He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of—
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form:
a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj
Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications!
You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though.
Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb.
He remembered Kay's odd accent. Was that the way a person would speak English if her own language ran something like " ist ifedereret, hid jestig snoll doper adwo ?"
He remembered the way she had looked at him in the coffee bar.
He remembered the material of her dress.
He remembered how she had come to his room.
"I didn't know you had a taste for Taine."
Her voice seemed to come from far away, but she was standing right beside him, tall and bewitching; Helenesque as ever. Her blue eyes became great wells into which he found himself falling. With an effort, he pulled himself back. "You're early tonight," he said lamely.
She appropriated the message, read it. "Put the book back," she said presently. Then, when he complied: "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka. After that I'm going to take you home to meet my folks."
The relieved sigh he heard was his own.
They climbed into her convertible and she nosed it into the moving line of cars. "How long have you been reading my mail?" she asked.
"Since the night before I met you."
"Was that the reason you spilled the sugar?"
"Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?"
She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet."
He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?"
"Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back."
He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on the seat, lit a cigarette and exhaled a mixture of smoke and relief. On the way to meet her folks. So it was just an ordinary secret society after all. And here he'd been thinking that she was the key figure in a Martian plot to blow up Earth—
Her folks !
Abruptly the full implication of the words got through to him, and he sat bolt-up-right on the seat. He was starting to climb out of the car when he saw Kay coming down the walk. Anyway, running away wouldn't solve his problem. A complete disappearing act was in order, and a complete disappearing act would take time. Meanwhile he would play along with her.
A station wagon came up behind them, slowed, and matched its speed with theirs. "Someone's following us," Quidley said.
"Probably Jilka."
Five minutes later the station wagon turned down a side street and disappeared. "She's no longer with us," Quidley said.
"She's got to pick someone up. She'll meet us later."
"At your folks'?"
"At the ship."
The city was thinning out around them now, and a few stars were visible in the night sky. Quidley watched them thoughtfully for a while. Then:
"What ship?" he said.
"The one we're going to Fieu Dayol on."
" Fieu Dayol? "
"Persei 17 to you. I said I was going to take you home to meet my folks, didn't I?"
"In other words, you're kidnapping me."
She shook her head vehemently. "I most certainly am not! Neither according to interstellar law or your own. When you compromised me, you made yourself liable in the eyes of both."
"But why pick on me? There must be plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Why don't you marry one of them?"
"For two reasons: one, you're the particular man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications services and forbidding us to appear in public places. It was devised to facilitate the prosecution of interstellar black marketeers, but we're subject to it, too, and have to contrive communications systems of our own."
"But why were all the messages addressed to you?"
"They weren't messages. They were requisitions. I'm the ship's stock girl."
April fields stretched darkly away on either side of the highway. Presently she turned down a rutted road between two of them and they bounced and swayed back to a black blur of trees. "Here we are," she said.
Gradually he made out the sphere. It blended so flawlessly with its background that he wouldn't have been able to see it at all if he hadn't been informed of its existence. A gangplank sloped down from an open lock and came to rest just within the fringe of the trees.
Lights danced in the darkness behind them as another car jounced down the rutted road. "Jilka," Kay said. "I wonder if she got him."
Apparently she had. At least there was a man with her—a rather woebegone, wilted creature who didn't even look up as they passed. Quidley watched them ascend the gangplank, the man in the lead, and disappear into the ship.
"Next," Kay said.
Quidley shook his head. "You're not taking me to another planet!"
She opened her purse and pulled out a small metallic object "A little while ago you asked me what a snoll doper was," she said.
"Unfortunately interstellar law severely limits us in our choice of marriageable males, and we can take only those who refuse to conform to the sexual mores of their own societies." She did something to the object that caused it to extend itself into a long, tubular affair.
" This is a snoll doper ."
She prodded his ribs. "March," she said.
He marched. Halfway up the plank he glanced back over his shoulder for a better look at the object pressed against his back.
It bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun.
Question:
Who is Kay Smith, and what are her characteristics?
Answer:
|
[
"She is tall with hyacinth long hair and blue eyes. Her skin is glowingly white. Her body shape is Grecian symmetric. She fascinates Herbert Quidley, a man who finds out the secret letter in Taine’s book, when she walks in the library. She is the receiver of secret messages in the book, and she goes to the library almost every day to pick up the letter in the book. She wears a pleated skirt when Herbert Quidley spills the sugar on her thighs. She speaks with a slight accent that she pronounces “interesting” with “anteresting.” She walks demurely. She wears a dress that exposes a lot of her skin when she goes to Quidley’s apartment, which indicates her intention to have sexual behaviors with him. She owns a convertible, and her purse hides a gun. She is the stock girl on the ship to Fieu Dayol, and her job is to deliver guns to her members, which is why she goes to the library to pick up the secret letters, the requisitions for the guns. It is revealed at the end that she comes to the Earth to bring men to her planet.",
"Kay Smith is a beautiful girl who is pursued by Herbert. Kay uses a bookmark and a book to communicate with her friends. At the end we learn that Kay comes from an alien planet, and that she uses the books to communicate with her crew of women who also came from her planet. We also learn that Kay is looking for a mate to take to her planet, as there aren’t enough men for each woman in her home planet. Kay ends up taking Herbert hostage into her ship in order to make him her mate.",
"\nKay Smith is a tall woman with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes. She also has the Grecian symmetry of shape that instantly caught Quidley’s attention. Kay is described as a mysterious person, going to the library to leave messages in the Taine book. Later, when she meets Quidley at the coffee shop, Kay is shown to be very polite. She is also straightforward as well, telling him that they will be meeting at his apartment even though Quidley does not usually make this exception. Although Kay is a pleasant person, she does become more assertive once she is found out. She forces Quidley to come with her, calling him the man who compromised her. When Quidley does not want to go back to Fieu Dayol with her, she threatens him with her snoll doper. ",
"Kay Smith is a young girl from Fieu Dayol. She came to Earth to get a male partner and is the ship’s stock girl. She is quite confident when she talks to Quidley. She is determined and charming - Kay manages to seduce Quidley very quickly and then orders him to reschedule the dinner. She is pragmatic and sly - we understand that after noticing how she can change the way she converses with Quidley and be both talkative and secretive, depending on her personal goal. Kay is good at planning and manages to almost lure Quidley into the ship by just concealing the information that can alienate him. She knows how to use a weapon. "
] |
61048
|
The Girls From Fieu Dayol
By ROBERT F. YOUNG
They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the background for both had been bedrooms and bars, not libraries.
On page 21 of the Taine tome he happened upon a sheet of yellow copy paper folded in four. Unfolding it, he read:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Sities towms copeis wotnid. Gind snoll doper nckli! Wilbe Fieu Dayol fot ig habe mot toseo knwo—te bijk weil en snoll doper—Klio, asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Since when, Quidley wondered, refolding the paper and putting it back in the book, had high-school typing students taken to reading Taine? Thoughtfully he replaced the book on the shelf and moved deeper into the literature section.
He had just taken down Xenophon's Anabasis when he saw the girl walk in the door.
Let it be said forthwith that old books were not the only item on Herbert Quidley's penchant-list. He liked old wood, too, and old paintings, not to mention old wine and old whiskey. But most of all he liked young girls. He especially liked them when they looked the way Helen of Troy must have looked when Paris took one gander at her and started building his ladder. This one was tall, with hyacinth hair and liquid blue eyes, and she had a Grecian symmetry of shape that would have made Paris' eyes pop had he been around to take notice. Paris wasn't, but Quidley's eyes, did the job.
After coming in the door, the girl deposited a book on the librarian's desk and headed for the literature section. Quickly Quidley lowered his eyes to the Anabasis and henceforth followed her progress out of their corners. When she came to the O's she paused, took down a book and glanced through it. Then she replaced it and moved on to the P's ... the Q's ... the R's. Barely three feet from him she paused again and took down Taine's History of English Literature .
He simply could not believe it. The odds against two persons taking an interest in so esoteric a volume on a single night in a single library were ten thousand to one. And yet there was no gainsaying that the volume was in the girl's hands, and that she was riffling through it with the air of a seasoned browser.
Presently she returned the book to the shelf, selected another—seemingly at random—and took it over to the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone.
He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time?
He returned Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got
"Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing.
By whom—her boy friend?
Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word
"fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while.
Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine, The Zeitgeist , Quidley watched her take a seemingly haphazard route to the shelf where Taine's History reposed, take the volume down, surreptitiously slip a folded sheet of yellow paper between its pages and return it to the shelf.
After she left he wasted no time in acquainting himself with the second message. It was as unintelligible as the first:
asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj Cai: Habe wotnid ig ist ending ifedererer te. T'lide sid Fieu Dayol po jestig toseo knwo, bijk weil en snoll doper entling—Yoolna. asdf ;lkj asdf
;lkj asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj
Well, perhaps not quite as unintelligible. He knew, at least, who Cai was, and he knew—from the reappearance of the words wotnid , Fieu Dayol and snoll doper —that the two communications were in the same code. And certainly it was reasonable to assume that the last word— Yoolna —was the name of the girl he had just seen, and that she was a different person from the Klio whose name had appended the first message.
He refolded the paper, replaced it between the pages, returned the book to the shelf and went back to the reading table and The Zeitgeist .
Kay didn't show up till almost closing time, and he was beginning to think that perhaps she wouldn't come around for the pickup till tomorrow when she finally walked in the door. She employed the same tactics she had employed the previous night, arriving, as though by chance, at the T-section and transferring the message with the same undetectable legerdemain to her purse. This time, when she walked out the door, he was not far behind her.
She climbed into a sleek convertible and pulled into the street. It took him but a moment to gain his hardtop and start out after her. When, several blocks later, she pulled to the curb in front of an all-night coffee bar, he followed suit. After that, it was merely a matter of following her inside.
He decided on Operation Spill-the-sugar. It had stood him in good stead before, and he was rather fond of it. The procedure was quite simple. First you took note of the position of the sugar dispensers, then you situated yourself so that your intended victim was between you and the nearest one, then you ordered coffee without sugar in a low voice, and after the counterman or countergirl had served you, you waited till he/she was out of earshot and asked your i.v. to please pass the sugar. When she did so you let the dispenser slip from your fingers in such a way that some of its contents spilled on her lap—
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, righting it. "Here, let me brush it off."
"It's all right, it's only sugar," she said, laughing.
"I'm hopelessly clumsy," he continued smoothly, brushing the gleaming crystals from her pleated skirt, noting the clean sweep of her thighs.
"I beseech you to forgive me."
"You're forgiven," she said, and he noticed then that she spoke with a slight accent.
"If you like, you can send it to the cleaners and have them send the bill to me. My address is 61 Park Place." He pulled out his wallet, chose an appropriate card, and handed it to her—
Herbert Quidley: Profiliste
Her forehead crinkled. " Profiliste? "
"I paint profiles with words," he said. "You may have run across some of my pieces in the Better Magazines. I employ a variety of pseudonyms, of course."
"How interesting." She pronounced it "anteresting."
"Not famous profiles, you understand. Just profiles that strike my fancy." He paused. She had raised her cup to her lips and was taking a dainty sip. "You have a rather striking profile yourself, Miss—"
"Smith. Kay Smith." She set the cup back on the counter and turned and faced him. For a second her eyes seemed to expand till they preoccupied his entire vision, till he could see nothing but their disturbingly clear—and suddenly cold—blueness. Panic touched him, then vanished when she said, "Would you really consider word-painting my profile, Mr. Quidley?"
Would he! "When can I call?"
She hesitated for a moment. Then: "I think it will be better if I call on you. There are quite a number of people living in our—our house. I'm afraid the quarters would be much too cramped for an artist like yourself to concentrate."
Quidley glowed. Usually it required two or three days, and sometimes a week, to reach the apartment phase. "Fine," he said. "When can I expect you?"
She stood up and he got to his feet beside her. She was even taller than he had thought. In fact, if he hadn't been wearing Cuban heels, she'd have been taller than he was. "I'll be in town night after next," she said. "Will nine o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Good-by for now then, Mr. Quidley."
He was so elated that when he arrived at his apartment he actually did try to write a profile. His own, of course. He sat down at his custom-built chrome-trimmed desk, inserted a blank sheet of paper in his custom-built typewriter and tried to arrange his thoughts. But as usual his mind raced ahead of the moment, and he saw the title, Self Profile , nestling noticeably on the contents page of one of the Better Magazines, and presently he saw the piece itself in all its splendid array of colorful rhetoric, sparkling imagery and scintillating wit, occupying a two-page spread.
It was some time before he returned to reality, and when he did the first thing that met his eyes was the uncompromisingly blank sheet of paper. Hurriedly he typed out a letter to his father, requesting an advance on his allowance, then, after a tall glass of vintage wine, he went to bed.
In telling him that she would be in town two nights hence, Kay had unwittingly apprised him that there would be no exchange of messages until that time, so the next evening he skipped his vigil at the library. The following evening, however, after readying his apartment for the forthcoming assignation, he hied himself to his reading-table post and took up The Zeitgeist once again.
He had not thought it possible that there could be a third such woman.
And yet there she was, walking in the door, tall and blue-eyed and graceful; dark of hair and noble of mien; browsing in the philosophy section now, now the fiction section, now moving leisurely into the literature aisle and toward the T's....
The camouflage had varied, but the message was typical enough:
fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; Cai: Gind en snoll doper nckli! Wotnid antwaterer Fieu Dayol hid jestig snoll doper ifedererer te. Dep gogensplo snoll dopers ensing!—Gorka. fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl; fdsa jkl;
Judging from the repeated use of the words, snoll dopers were the topic of the day. Annoyed, Quidley replaced the message and put the book back on the shelf. Then he returned to his apartment to await Kay.
He wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her point-blank what a snoll doper was; whether she would reveal the nature of the amateur secret society to which she and Klio and Yoolna and Gorka belonged. It virtually had to be an amateur secret society. Unless, of course, they were foreigners. But what on earth foreign organization would be quixotic enough to employ Taine's History of English Literature as a communications medium when there was a telephone in every drugstore and a mailbox on every corner?
Somehow the words "what on earth foreign organization" got turned around in his mind and became "what foreign organization on earth" and before he could summon his common sense to succor him, he experienced a rather bad moment. By the time the door chimes sounded he was his normal self again.
He straightened his tie with nervous fingers, checked to see if his shirt cuffs protruded the proper length from his coat sleeves, and looked around the room to see if everything was in place. Everything was—the typewriter uncovered and centered on the chrome-trimmed desk, with the sheaf of crinkly first-sheets beside it; the reference books stacked imposingly nearby; Harper's , The Atlantic and The Saturday Review showing conspicuously in the magazine rack; the newly opened bottle of bourbon and the two snifter glasses on the sideboard; the small table set cozily for two—
The chimes sounded again. He opened the door.
She walked in with a demure, "Hello." He took her wrap. When he saw what she was wearing he had to tilt his head back so that his eyes wouldn't fall out of their sockets.
Skin, mostly, in the upper regions. White, glowing skin on which her long hair lay like forest pools. As for her dress, it was as though she had fallen forward into immaculate snow, half-burying her breasts before catching herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired.
He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it."
"It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's the present company, Miss Smith." "Call me Kay."
They touched glasses: "Your liquor is as exquisite as your living room, Herbert. I shall have to come here more often." "I hope you will, Kay."
"Though such conduct, I'm told, is morally reprehensible on the planet Earth." "Not in this particular circle. Your hair is lovely." "Thank you.... You haven't mentioned my perfume yet. Perhaps I'm standing too far away.... There!" "It's—it's as lovely as your hair, Kay." "Um, kiss me again." "I—I never figured—I mean, I engaged a caterer to serve us dinner at 9:30." "Call him up. Make it 10:30."
The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place.
He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of—
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form:
a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj
Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications!
You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though.
Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb.
He remembered Kay's odd accent. Was that the way a person would speak English if her own language ran something like " ist ifedereret, hid jestig snoll doper adwo ?"
He remembered the way she had looked at him in the coffee bar.
He remembered the material of her dress.
He remembered how she had come to his room.
"I didn't know you had a taste for Taine."
Her voice seemed to come from far away, but she was standing right beside him, tall and bewitching; Helenesque as ever. Her blue eyes became great wells into which he found himself falling. With an effort, he pulled himself back. "You're early tonight," he said lamely.
She appropriated the message, read it. "Put the book back," she said presently. Then, when he complied: "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to deliver a snoll doper to Jilka. After that I'm going to take you home to meet my folks."
The relieved sigh he heard was his own.
They climbed into her convertible and she nosed it into the moving line of cars. "How long have you been reading my mail?" she asked.
"Since the night before I met you."
"Was that the reason you spilled the sugar?"
"Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?"
She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet."
He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?"
"Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back."
He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on the seat, lit a cigarette and exhaled a mixture of smoke and relief. On the way to meet her folks. So it was just an ordinary secret society after all. And here he'd been thinking that she was the key figure in a Martian plot to blow up Earth—
Her folks !
Abruptly the full implication of the words got through to him, and he sat bolt-up-right on the seat. He was starting to climb out of the car when he saw Kay coming down the walk. Anyway, running away wouldn't solve his problem. A complete disappearing act was in order, and a complete disappearing act would take time. Meanwhile he would play along with her.
A station wagon came up behind them, slowed, and matched its speed with theirs. "Someone's following us," Quidley said.
"Probably Jilka."
Five minutes later the station wagon turned down a side street and disappeared. "She's no longer with us," Quidley said.
"She's got to pick someone up. She'll meet us later."
"At your folks'?"
"At the ship."
The city was thinning out around them now, and a few stars were visible in the night sky. Quidley watched them thoughtfully for a while. Then:
"What ship?" he said.
"The one we're going to Fieu Dayol on."
" Fieu Dayol? "
"Persei 17 to you. I said I was going to take you home to meet my folks, didn't I?"
"In other words, you're kidnapping me."
She shook her head vehemently. "I most certainly am not! Neither according to interstellar law or your own. When you compromised me, you made yourself liable in the eyes of both."
"But why pick on me? There must be plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Why don't you marry one of them?"
"For two reasons: one, you're the particular man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications services and forbidding us to appear in public places. It was devised to facilitate the prosecution of interstellar black marketeers, but we're subject to it, too, and have to contrive communications systems of our own."
"But why were all the messages addressed to you?"
"They weren't messages. They were requisitions. I'm the ship's stock girl."
April fields stretched darkly away on either side of the highway. Presently she turned down a rutted road between two of them and they bounced and swayed back to a black blur of trees. "Here we are," she said.
Gradually he made out the sphere. It blended so flawlessly with its background that he wouldn't have been able to see it at all if he hadn't been informed of its existence. A gangplank sloped down from an open lock and came to rest just within the fringe of the trees.
Lights danced in the darkness behind them as another car jounced down the rutted road. "Jilka," Kay said. "I wonder if she got him."
Apparently she had. At least there was a man with her—a rather woebegone, wilted creature who didn't even look up as they passed. Quidley watched them ascend the gangplank, the man in the lead, and disappear into the ship.
"Next," Kay said.
Quidley shook his head. "You're not taking me to another planet!"
She opened her purse and pulled out a small metallic object "A little while ago you asked me what a snoll doper was," she said.
"Unfortunately interstellar law severely limits us in our choice of marriageable males, and we can take only those who refuse to conform to the sexual mores of their own societies." She did something to the object that caused it to extend itself into a long, tubular affair.
" This is a snoll doper ."
She prodded his ribs. "March," she said.
He marched. Halfway up the plank he glanced back over his shoulder for a better look at the object pressed against his back.
It bore a striking resemblance to a shotgun.
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Describe the setting of this story.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Captain Midas by Alfred Coppel.
Relevant chunks:
CAPTAIN MIDAS
By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at the torn derelict floating against the velvet void. Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course, there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure....
These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot....
I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask. The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot—wait for the weight of years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things my eyes have seen.
I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe, thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of that. We did it for us ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror.
If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship, so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had ever been found ... then.
My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different. That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe. There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that pushes the frontier outward.
I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and gimme.
I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure of that.
In those days the asteroid belt was the primary danger and menace to astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics never panned out because of the weight problem.
So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval blackness is where we found the derelict.
I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass, but I could see that the hulk was big—bigger than any ship I'd ever seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer, and showed him my figures.
"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to you?"
Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures. It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct, Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of those figures on the chart.
"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon they were assembled in Control.
"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's Space Regulations and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to claim it as salvage."
"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ... you think it came from the stars , Captain?"
"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be worth money ... lots of money.
Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
"Certainly!"
The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some strange and alien way.
It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away again into the inter-stellar deeps.
Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ... but of what?
We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank. Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things figured.
The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and crossed to her.
In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their faces.
"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives. She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage compartments that are still unbroken."
She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull alone was left.
He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this stuff...."
"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When it's done report to me in my quarters."
I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff is worth anything...."
The metal was heavy—too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that distant world where this metal was made?
Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver; those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. It had a yellowish tinge, and it was heavier ....
Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm. Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of metallic lustre.
For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal—the stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was built—was now....
Gold!
I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my table-top. Gold!
I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps, from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ... drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element—wonderfully, miraculously gold!
And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table. He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my quarters!"
Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last two words.
I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me, Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is that clear?"
"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like him to let it go at that.
Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering about Spinelli.
Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that there was no double-cross.
I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk. That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls on automatic.
Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance against Zaleski.
When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come between him and that mountain of gold.
Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked. Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't seemed likely before, but now—
The gun-pointer remained as it was.
As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would have when the starship was cut up and sold.
My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no telling what can happen to a man in space....
Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal. Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an animal suspicion.
"They're faking!"
"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey my orders. You told him about the gold!"
"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? I found her, and she's mine!"
I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the image of the starship on the viewplate.
A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
"Get this down, Spinelli!"
The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ... sir."
The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were failing.
"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ... WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ... CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly, in mid-word.
"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in sight.
"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing console of the supersonic rifle.
I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
" Spinelli! "
My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him away from the panel.
"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go. My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face and lay still.
I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.
Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
felt sick inside, and dizzy.
I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
on that same aged look.
I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
of my men. It would have been better if I had!
I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
hole.
I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
metal.
The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
claw-like hands. They were old, old!
I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
from ... us !
My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
veins, ghastly and sure....
I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
load of ancient evil....
On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
all of it.
But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
nickname. Have you heard it?
It's ... Captain Midas.
Question:
Describe the setting of this story.
Answer:
|
[
"This story takes place in the Holcomb Foundation aboard Martian Maid. The Martian Maid is a grand ship that took off from Solis Lacus on its last flight; the ship spanned 200 feet in its length and despite its sleek exterior, was an armed ship as well. The Maid was on an orbit in a region strewn with asteroids between the outer systems and the EMV triangle. \n\nAboard the spaceship, interactions between the characters in the story largely took place in the Control room. It also takes place in Captain Midas’ quarters, where he investigates the mystery metal. The setting also changes to include the derelict ship the crewmates had found, which presented itself as a shell of a vessel with torn interiors and yellow-tinged walls. \n",
"After the character’s inner monologue finishes, Midas starts talking about the day his team took off on the Martian Maid spaceship. He watched the lights of Canalopolis: gin mills and houses reflected on the ancient canal’s water, the bright moons cast their shadows across the banks. They were leaving the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle and moving towards the outer systems, specifically the planet called Callisto. Midas spent most of his time in the Control room. He gathered the crew there to tell them about the derelict. At his quarters, Midas examined the metal samples sitting at his work-table. Days later, in the control room with a control panel, a radar finder, and a firing console, Midas killed Spinelli, who had attacked him. He then decided to find his team. He entered the living quarters of the prize crew. The walls were gleaming. Then, Midas swiftly reached the Maid and flew to Callisto. Now he’s in a hospital cot.\n\n",
"The story happens on two spaceships. One is Martian Maid, which is a two hundred feet long spaceship. It is sleek, chemical-fueled, and spherical. It is equipped with weapons, such as turrets. There is a telescope, radar, and a book rack above the desk in the captain’s room. The other is the derelict. It is tremendously gigantic. It has a sleek torpedo shape with unknown alienness. Its flanks are constituted with glittering whorls. It is torn apart severely. There are a few storage compartments inside.",
"The story is primarily set in space. When the Martian Maid first takes off, it leaves from Solis Lacus after being taken out of the Foundation Yards. The ship is headed towards Callisto, where everybody will be receiving a fat paycheck. There is a Earth-Mars-Venus triangle that provides relative security for space travel. However, the outer systems are much more dangerous. The Captain also watches Canalopolis from a distance before he has to leave. The Maid has a scope position and living quarters for the crew. There is also an area called Control, where everybody is called to meet. The golden ship they find is made fully out of gold. The treasure ship has yellowish decks and an airlock compartment set aside for the crew. The entire ship gleams, but it is made out of devil metal. After the captain escapes to Callisto, he is subjected to a hospital cot for the rest of his life. "
] |
63867
|
CAPTAIN MIDAS
By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at the torn derelict floating against the velvet void. Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course, there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure....
These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot....
I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask. The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot—wait for the weight of years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things my eyes have seen.
I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe, thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of that. We did it for us ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror.
If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship, so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had ever been found ... then.
My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different. That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe. There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that pushes the frontier outward.
I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and gimme.
I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure of that.
In those days the asteroid belt was the primary danger and menace to astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics never panned out because of the weight problem.
So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval blackness is where we found the derelict.
I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass, but I could see that the hulk was big—bigger than any ship I'd ever seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer, and showed him my figures.
"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to you?"
Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures. It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct, Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of those figures on the chart.
"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon they were assembled in Control.
"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's Space Regulations and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to claim it as salvage."
"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ... you think it came from the stars , Captain?"
"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be worth money ... lots of money.
Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
"Certainly!"
The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some strange and alien way.
It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away again into the inter-stellar deeps.
Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ... but of what?
We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank. Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things figured.
The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and crossed to her.
In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their faces.
"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives. She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage compartments that are still unbroken."
She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull alone was left.
He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this stuff...."
"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When it's done report to me in my quarters."
I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff is worth anything...."
The metal was heavy—too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that distant world where this metal was made?
Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver; those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. It had a yellowish tinge, and it was heavier ....
Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm. Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of metallic lustre.
For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal—the stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was built—was now....
Gold!
I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my table-top. Gold!
I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps, from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ... drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element—wonderfully, miraculously gold!
And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table. He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my quarters!"
Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last two words.
I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me, Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is that clear?"
"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like him to let it go at that.
Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering about Spinelli.
Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that there was no double-cross.
I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk. That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls on automatic.
Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance against Zaleski.
When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come between him and that mountain of gold.
Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked. Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't seemed likely before, but now—
The gun-pointer remained as it was.
As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would have when the starship was cut up and sold.
My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no telling what can happen to a man in space....
Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal. Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an animal suspicion.
"They're faking!"
"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey my orders. You told him about the gold!"
"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? I found her, and she's mine!"
I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the image of the starship on the viewplate.
A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
"Get this down, Spinelli!"
The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ... sir."
The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were failing.
"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ... WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ... CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly, in mid-word.
"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in sight.
"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing console of the supersonic rifle.
I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
" Spinelli! "
My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him away from the panel.
"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go. My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face and lay still.
I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.
Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
felt sick inside, and dizzy.
I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
on that same aged look.
I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
of my men. It would have been better if I had!
I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
hole.
I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
metal.
The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
claw-like hands. They were old, old!
I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
from ... us !
My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
veins, ghastly and sure....
I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
load of ancient evil....
On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
all of it.
But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
nickname. Have you heard it?
It's ... Captain Midas.
|
Describe the relationship between Captain Midas and Mister Spinelli.
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Captain Midas by Alfred Coppel.
Relevant chunks:
CAPTAIN MIDAS
By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at the torn derelict floating against the velvet void. Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course, there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure....
These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot....
I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask. The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot—wait for the weight of years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things my eyes have seen.
I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe, thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of that. We did it for us ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror.
If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship, so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had ever been found ... then.
My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different. That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe. There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that pushes the frontier outward.
I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and gimme.
I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure of that.
In those days the asteroid belt was the primary danger and menace to astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics never panned out because of the weight problem.
So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval blackness is where we found the derelict.
I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass, but I could see that the hulk was big—bigger than any ship I'd ever seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer, and showed him my figures.
"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to you?"
Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures. It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct, Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of those figures on the chart.
"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon they were assembled in Control.
"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's Space Regulations and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to claim it as salvage."
"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ... you think it came from the stars , Captain?"
"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be worth money ... lots of money.
Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
"Certainly!"
The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some strange and alien way.
It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away again into the inter-stellar deeps.
Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ... but of what?
We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank. Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things figured.
The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and crossed to her.
In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their faces.
"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives. She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage compartments that are still unbroken."
She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull alone was left.
He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this stuff...."
"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When it's done report to me in my quarters."
I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff is worth anything...."
The metal was heavy—too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that distant world where this metal was made?
Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver; those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. It had a yellowish tinge, and it was heavier ....
Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm. Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of metallic lustre.
For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal—the stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was built—was now....
Gold!
I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my table-top. Gold!
I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps, from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ... drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element—wonderfully, miraculously gold!
And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table. He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my quarters!"
Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last two words.
I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me, Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is that clear?"
"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like him to let it go at that.
Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering about Spinelli.
Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that there was no double-cross.
I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk. That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls on automatic.
Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance against Zaleski.
When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come between him and that mountain of gold.
Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked. Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't seemed likely before, but now—
The gun-pointer remained as it was.
As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would have when the starship was cut up and sold.
My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no telling what can happen to a man in space....
Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal. Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an animal suspicion.
"They're faking!"
"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey my orders. You told him about the gold!"
"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? I found her, and she's mine!"
I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the image of the starship on the viewplate.
A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
"Get this down, Spinelli!"
The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ... sir."
The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were failing.
"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ... WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ... CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly, in mid-word.
"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in sight.
"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing console of the supersonic rifle.
I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
" Spinelli! "
My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him away from the panel.
"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go. My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face and lay still.
I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.
Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
felt sick inside, and dizzy.
I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
on that same aged look.
I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
of my men. It would have been better if I had!
I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
hole.
I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
metal.
The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
claw-like hands. They were old, old!
I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
from ... us !
My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
veins, ghastly and sure....
I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
load of ancient evil....
On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
all of it.
But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
nickname. Have you heard it?
It's ... Captain Midas.
Question:
Describe the relationship between Captain Midas and Mister Spinelli.
Answer:
|
[
"Mister Spinelli is Third Officer under the command of Captain Midas and was the first to report the derelict ship and observe its potential to be claimed by the Maid. Spinelli is the first and only crew member to identify the metal from the abandoned ship as gold when he saw Captain Midas with it. The tension between Midas and Spinelli escalates and their relationship becomes antagonistic as both of them desire to benefit the most from this valuable gold and with Midas constantly pulling his authority over Spinelli. After Midas barrs him from being a part of the investigative crew, suspicion arises between the two as Spinelli suspects Midas wishes to keep the pot of gold for himself and Midas thinks that Spinelli may be telling others. This tension further escalates as Midas sees Spinelli nearly hit the trigger of the gun and in rage, the two end up fighting each other before Midas aimed a kick at his temple and killed him. \n",
"Captain Midas knows about Mister Spinelli’s hunger for money and gold. When the officer noticed the chunk of gold on Midas’ table, the captain started analyzing what the crewman could do. He refused to allow Spinelli to go aboard the derelict, and from this point, their relationship became tense. The crewman suspected the captain of an intention to take all the gold. Midas saw that Spinelli told Zaleski about gold and sent several other crew members to the derelict with Zaleski and Cohn to avoid double-crossing or mutiny. When they left, he realized that Spinelli aimed the Maid’s firing projector at the derelict and the crew members there in case they decided to betray Spinelli. Midas got angry but decided to leave this way. When their colleagues sent a message about the lost control and then stopped answering, Spinelli became mad. Midas attempted to keep Spinelli in control, but the man was already approaching the firing panel. Spinelli got an order to leave the control room, but he exploded and attacked his superior. In an aggressive fight, Midas killed his team member. ",
"The relationship between Captain Midas and Mister Spinelli changes from supportive to hostile throughout the story. When Mister Spinelli finds the massive derelict in the space, he reports back to Captain Midas. He actively suggests searching over the hulk, where his relationship with Captain Midas is superior-subordinate and obeying. However, when Captain Midas finds out that the mysterious metal sought from the derelict can somehow turn into gold, which Mister Spinelli witnesses, their greed sprouts the tension and suspicion between them as they start to suspect each other of trying to have the gold by themselves. The first tension arises when Captain Midas does not allow Mister Spinelli to move the hulk. In addition, Mister Spinelli disobeys Captain Midas’s order not to tell other crew members about the metal. The second tension arises when Mister Spinelli uses the weapon on the spaceship pointing toward the derelict to ensure no one can steal his share of the metal. Captain Midas is raged about his action at first, but he accepts that. The last tension arises when they lose the signal from other crew members, causing them to suspect the betrayal of other members. From then on, Mister Spinelli attacks Captain Midas, and they fight until Captain Midas kills Mister Spinelli. Until this point, their relationship is hostile and competitive in the sense of the ownership of the metal.",
"Captain Midas and Mister Spinelli initially get along fine. Spinelli listens to all of his orders, and the Captain considers him to be a reliable member of the crew. There is no sense of hostility between them, and he even agrees with Spinelli’s proposal to look the ship over. However, this relationship later sours once Spinelli finds out that the discovered ship is made out of gold. The captain is wary because Spinelli is big and dangerous, preferring to keep an eye on him in case anything goes wrong. Spinelli, on the other hand, is suspicious of the captain and goes off to tell Zaleski even though the captain said to not mention the gold to any of the rest of the crew. The captain threatens to clap Spinelli to irons, but this threat does not work because the Third Officer chooses to disobey his orders anyways. Later, Spinelli and the captain get into conflict again, with Spinelli accusing the captain that he was planning to keep all of the treasure for himself. Spinelli assumes that everybody is faking it to keep the ship, but the captain knocks him away. The two of them fight brutally, and Captain Midas has to end up killing Spinelli. "
] |
63867
|
CAPTAIN MIDAS
By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at the torn derelict floating against the velvet void. Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course, there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure....
These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot....
I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask. The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot—wait for the weight of years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things my eyes have seen.
I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe, thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of that. We did it for us ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror.
If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship, so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had ever been found ... then.
My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different. That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe. There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that pushes the frontier outward.
I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and gimme.
I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure of that.
In those days the asteroid belt was the primary danger and menace to astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics never panned out because of the weight problem.
So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval blackness is where we found the derelict.
I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass, but I could see that the hulk was big—bigger than any ship I'd ever seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer, and showed him my figures.
"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to you?"
Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures. It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct, Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of those figures on the chart.
"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon they were assembled in Control.
"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's Space Regulations and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to claim it as salvage."
"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ... you think it came from the stars , Captain?"
"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be worth money ... lots of money.
Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
"Certainly!"
The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some strange and alien way.
It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away again into the inter-stellar deeps.
Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ... but of what?
We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank. Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things figured.
The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and crossed to her.
In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their faces.
"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives. She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage compartments that are still unbroken."
She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull alone was left.
He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this stuff...."
"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When it's done report to me in my quarters."
I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff is worth anything...."
The metal was heavy—too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that distant world where this metal was made?
Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver; those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. It had a yellowish tinge, and it was heavier ....
Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm. Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of metallic lustre.
For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal—the stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was built—was now....
Gold!
I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my table-top. Gold!
I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps, from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ... drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element—wonderfully, miraculously gold!
And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table. He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my quarters!"
Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last two words.
I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me, Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is that clear?"
"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like him to let it go at that.
Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering about Spinelli.
Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that there was no double-cross.
I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk. That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls on automatic.
Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance against Zaleski.
When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come between him and that mountain of gold.
Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked. Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't seemed likely before, but now—
The gun-pointer remained as it was.
As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would have when the starship was cut up and sold.
My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no telling what can happen to a man in space....
Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal. Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an animal suspicion.
"They're faking!"
"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey my orders. You told him about the gold!"
"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? I found her, and she's mine!"
I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the image of the starship on the viewplate.
A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
"Get this down, Spinelli!"
The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ... sir."
The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were failing.
"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ... WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ... CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly, in mid-word.
"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in sight.
"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing console of the supersonic rifle.
I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
" Spinelli! "
My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him away from the panel.
"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go. My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face and lay still.
I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.
Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
felt sick inside, and dizzy.
I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
on that same aged look.
I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
of my men. It would have been better if I had!
I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
hole.
I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
metal.
The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
claw-like hands. They were old, old!
I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
from ... us !
My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
veins, ghastly and sure....
I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
load of ancient evil....
On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
all of it.
But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
nickname. Have you heard it?
It's ... Captain Midas.
|
Who is Captain Midas and what are some of his characteristics?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Captain Midas by Alfred Coppel.
Relevant chunks:
CAPTAIN MIDAS
By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at the torn derelict floating against the velvet void. Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course, there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure....
These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot....
I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask. The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot—wait for the weight of years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things my eyes have seen.
I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe, thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of that. We did it for us ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror.
If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship, so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had ever been found ... then.
My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different. That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe. There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that pushes the frontier outward.
I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and gimme.
I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure of that.
In those days the asteroid belt was the primary danger and menace to astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics never panned out because of the weight problem.
So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval blackness is where we found the derelict.
I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass, but I could see that the hulk was big—bigger than any ship I'd ever seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer, and showed him my figures.
"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to you?"
Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures. It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct, Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of those figures on the chart.
"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon they were assembled in Control.
"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's Space Regulations and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to claim it as salvage."
"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ... you think it came from the stars , Captain?"
"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be worth money ... lots of money.
Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
"Certainly!"
The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some strange and alien way.
It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away again into the inter-stellar deeps.
Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ... but of what?
We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank. Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things figured.
The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and crossed to her.
In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their faces.
"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives. She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage compartments that are still unbroken."
She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull alone was left.
He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this stuff...."
"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When it's done report to me in my quarters."
I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff is worth anything...."
The metal was heavy—too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that distant world where this metal was made?
Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver; those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. It had a yellowish tinge, and it was heavier ....
Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm. Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of metallic lustre.
For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal—the stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was built—was now....
Gold!
I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my table-top. Gold!
I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps, from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ... drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element—wonderfully, miraculously gold!
And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table. He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my quarters!"
Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last two words.
I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me, Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is that clear?"
"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like him to let it go at that.
Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering about Spinelli.
Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that there was no double-cross.
I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk. That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls on automatic.
Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance against Zaleski.
When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come between him and that mountain of gold.
Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked. Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't seemed likely before, but now—
The gun-pointer remained as it was.
As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would have when the starship was cut up and sold.
My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no telling what can happen to a man in space....
Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal. Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an animal suspicion.
"They're faking!"
"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey my orders. You told him about the gold!"
"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? I found her, and she's mine!"
I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the image of the starship on the viewplate.
A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
"Get this down, Spinelli!"
The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ... sir."
The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were failing.
"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ... WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ... CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly, in mid-word.
"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in sight.
"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing console of the supersonic rifle.
I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
" Spinelli! "
My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him away from the panel.
"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go. My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face and lay still.
I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.
Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
felt sick inside, and dizzy.
I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
on that same aged look.
I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
of my men. It would have been better if I had!
I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
hole.
I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
metal.
The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
claw-like hands. They were old, old!
I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
from ... us !
My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
veins, ghastly and sure....
I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
load of ancient evil....
On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
all of it.
But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
nickname. Have you heard it?
It's ... Captain Midas.
Question:
Who is Captain Midas and what are some of his characteristics?
Answer:
|
[
"Captain Midas is the captain of the spaceship Martian Maid, who unknowingly takes the spaceship on its last flight in this story. He is described to be relatively young at 32 years old, but after interacting with the metal and at the end of the story, has the physical appearance of an eighty year old man with wrinkles and veiny hands. \n\nHe is a greedy man. In the beginning of the story, he honestly admits that he would do quite a few things for a few solar dollars, which we see throughout the story. In addition to his greed, he is a selfish man, as in discovering the gold he threatens Spinelli to secrecy in order to keep the highest gains for himself. It is also this greed that allows Spinelli to get away with initially aiming the gun at the derelict ship and their fellow shipmates on board in case those shipmates try to escape with the gold. \n\nThere are brief moments where he is shown to be an honorable man. For one, he fights Spinelli over blasting their fellow shipmates, and ends up killing Spinelli instead by accident. At the end of the story, he becomes terrified of the derelict ship and its devil metal, and yet still chooses to go aboard it to seek out his shipmates. \n",
"Captain Midas is a spaceman, a skipper of the Martian Maid spaceship. He is confident, experienced, and a natural leader - he can feel how the mood of his crew changes and what they are able to do. He knows how Spinelli and Zaleski can act if they find out about the gold and tries to be cautious. He is greedy - Midas gets blinded by the prospect of getting lots of money for the metal parts of the derelict and initially doesn’t notice the metal’s unique feature. Still, he values his team and finds it disgusting that Spinelli would be ready to kill his own colleagues for some gold. Midas also attempts to learn what happened to them when Spinelli gets out of control and thinks that the other members of the team betrayed him and stole his gold. He doesn’t feel normal after killing Spinelli - Midas doesn’t enjoy violence. ",
"Captain Midas is the captain of the spaceship Martian Maid. He looks bony, wrinkled, and weary. He looks eighty when he is thirty-two. He is greedy for money as he and the whole crew search every possibility in space to find treasure or things that can be traded for money. His greed also makes him not report to the interplanetary base when the crew finds the derelict. He prioritizes his lust for treasure over his duty as a captain, suspecting everyone on the ship to steal the derelict, but he also maintains his reason in the situation where the lust for treasure may surpass his duty as a captain. This can be shown when Mister Spinelli and the captain find it hard to read the message from the crewmembers on the derelict; he senses the danger while Mister Spinelli only thinks about his treasure. He is rational that all his actions have a reason, such as letting Mister Spinelli set the weapon pointing toward the derelict to ensure the rest of the crew members do not steal the treasure and flee. He has the moral that he feels guilty when he kills Mister Spinelli.",
"The captain of the Martian Maid, nicknamed Captain Midas, is the skipper of the boat. He works alongside the rest of the crew, consisting of Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, and Zaleski. The captain is only thirty-two, but he looks eighty by the end of the story. Physically, he is described as having gray hair, flesh hanging off of his bone like a yellow cloth, and face a mask. He is a hard-working man, willing to go to any means to earn his share of money. He is also poor, which is why he was so driven to keep the treasure ship when he found it. Captain Midas, however, is a lot more level-headed than the rest of the crew. He is aware of the dangers of being gold-hungry, which is why he keeps this finding to himself. The captain is also observant, figuring out the ship had come from beyond the stars based on his charts. However, even though he is a lot more level-headed, the captain is also susceptible to the idea of becoming insanely rich off of the golden ship. He is not against taking the ship with them and even sleeps with the gold chunk underneath his bed. Midas is also not afraid to use brute force, considering how he killed Spinelli when the other man attacked. "
] |
63867
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CAPTAIN MIDAS
By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at the torn derelict floating against the velvet void. Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course, there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure....
These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot....
I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask. The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot—wait for the weight of years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things my eyes have seen.
I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe, thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of that. We did it for us ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror.
If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship, so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had ever been found ... then.
My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different. That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe. There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that pushes the frontier outward.
I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and gimme.
I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure of that.
In those days the asteroid belt was the primary danger and menace to astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics never panned out because of the weight problem.
So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval blackness is where we found the derelict.
I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass, but I could see that the hulk was big—bigger than any ship I'd ever seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer, and showed him my figures.
"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to you?"
Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures. It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct, Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of those figures on the chart.
"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon they were assembled in Control.
"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's Space Regulations and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to claim it as salvage."
"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ... you think it came from the stars , Captain?"
"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be worth money ... lots of money.
Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
"Certainly!"
The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some strange and alien way.
It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away again into the inter-stellar deeps.
Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ... but of what?
We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank. Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things figured.
The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and crossed to her.
In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their faces.
"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives. She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage compartments that are still unbroken."
She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull alone was left.
He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this stuff...."
"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When it's done report to me in my quarters."
I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff is worth anything...."
The metal was heavy—too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that distant world where this metal was made?
Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver; those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. It had a yellowish tinge, and it was heavier ....
Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm. Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of metallic lustre.
For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal—the stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was built—was now....
Gold!
I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my table-top. Gold!
I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps, from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ... drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element—wonderfully, miraculously gold!
And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table. He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my quarters!"
Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last two words.
I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me, Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is that clear?"
"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like him to let it go at that.
Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering about Spinelli.
Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that there was no double-cross.
I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk. That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls on automatic.
Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance against Zaleski.
When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come between him and that mountain of gold.
Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked. Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't seemed likely before, but now—
The gun-pointer remained as it was.
As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would have when the starship was cut up and sold.
My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no telling what can happen to a man in space....
Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal. Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an animal suspicion.
"They're faking!"
"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey my orders. You told him about the gold!"
"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? I found her, and she's mine!"
I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the image of the starship on the viewplate.
A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
"Get this down, Spinelli!"
The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ... sir."
The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were failing.
"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ... WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ... CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly, in mid-word.
"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in sight.
"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing console of the supersonic rifle.
I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
" Spinelli! "
My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him away from the panel.
"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go. My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face and lay still.
I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.
Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
felt sick inside, and dizzy.
I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
on that same aged look.
I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
of my men. It would have been better if I had!
I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
hole.
I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
metal.
The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
claw-like hands. They were old, old!
I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
from ... us !
My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
veins, ghastly and sure....
I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
load of ancient evil....
On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
all of it.
But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
nickname. Have you heard it?
It's ... Captain Midas.
|
What is the plot of the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Captain Midas by Alfred Coppel.
Relevant chunks:
CAPTAIN MIDAS
By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at the torn derelict floating against the velvet void. Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course, there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure....
These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot....
I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask. The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot—wait for the weight of years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things my eyes have seen.
I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe, thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of that. We did it for us ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror.
If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship, so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had ever been found ... then.
My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different. That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe. There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that pushes the frontier outward.
I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and gimme.
I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure of that.
In those days the asteroid belt was the primary danger and menace to astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics never panned out because of the weight problem.
So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval blackness is where we found the derelict.
I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass, but I could see that the hulk was big—bigger than any ship I'd ever seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer, and showed him my figures.
"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to you?"
Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures. It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct, Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of those figures on the chart.
"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon they were assembled in Control.
"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's Space Regulations and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to claim it as salvage."
"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ... you think it came from the stars , Captain?"
"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be worth money ... lots of money.
Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
"Certainly!"
The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some strange and alien way.
It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away again into the inter-stellar deeps.
Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ... but of what?
We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank. Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things figured.
The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and crossed to her.
In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their faces.
"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives. She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage compartments that are still unbroken."
She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull alone was left.
He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this stuff...."
"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When it's done report to me in my quarters."
I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff is worth anything...."
The metal was heavy—too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that distant world where this metal was made?
Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver; those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. It had a yellowish tinge, and it was heavier ....
Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm. Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of metallic lustre.
For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal—the stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was built—was now....
Gold!
I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my table-top. Gold!
I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps, from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ... drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element—wonderfully, miraculously gold!
And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table. He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my quarters!"
Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last two words.
I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me, Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is that clear?"
"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like him to let it go at that.
Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering about Spinelli.
Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that there was no double-cross.
I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk. That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls on automatic.
Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance against Zaleski.
When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come between him and that mountain of gold.
Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked. Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't seemed likely before, but now—
The gun-pointer remained as it was.
As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would have when the starship was cut up and sold.
My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no telling what can happen to a man in space....
Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal. Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an animal suspicion.
"They're faking!"
"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey my orders. You told him about the gold!"
"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? I found her, and she's mine!"
I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the image of the starship on the viewplate.
A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
"Get this down, Spinelli!"
The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ... sir."
The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were failing.
"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ... WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ... CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly, in mid-word.
"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in sight.
"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing console of the supersonic rifle.
I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
" Spinelli! "
My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him away from the panel.
"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go. My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face and lay still.
I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.
Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
felt sick inside, and dizzy.
I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
on that same aged look.
I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
of my men. It would have been better if I had!
I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
hole.
I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
metal.
The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
claw-like hands. They were old, old!
I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
from ... us !
My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
veins, ghastly and sure....
I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
load of ancient evil....
On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
all of it.
But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
nickname. Have you heard it?
It's ... Captain Midas.
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
|
[
"This story follows the Martian Maid’s journey and features its crew members: a captain nicknamed ‘Captain Midas’, Mister Spinelli the Third Officer, and various other shipmates. It is revealed that many of the crew members have a lust for making money, and an apt opportunity to do so is discovered when Mister Spinelli spots a derelict ship amongst the asteroids that could be claimed by them. After a first exploration, Midas ends up with a mystery metal collected from the starship. In his further investigation, he finds that this mystery metal transforms into a heavier metal with a yellow tinge - gold. At the same time, he finds that holding the metal evokes fatigue in him, particularly in his arms. This initial investigation was interrupted by Spinelli barging into Midas’ quarters and spotting the gold. Fearful of the other shipmates knowing and hence collecting it for themselves, Midas threatens Spinelli’s silence. \n\nMidas continues the acquisition of this derelict ship by sending a crew, led by Cohn, to further investigate and take control of the ship. With Midas and Spinelli left behind, they watch their shipmates enter the alien ship. While waiting to hear back from the crew, Midas notices that Spinelli has arranged the Maid’s gun to point at the derelict ship and their crew mates. Initially enraged, Midas soon calms down as he begins to suspect that the rest of the crew knows about the gold and may be hatching an alternate plan. Two days past the check-in time, the pair receives a garbled message from the crew. Midas orders them to disembark and depart, but the starship begins to divert its course. In arguing between something being wrong and Spinelli telling the crew about the gold, Spinelli begins to inch towards the firing panel for the gun and a tussle emerges between the two with Midas killing him. \n\nAfter re-catching the derelict ship, Midas boards the ship to look for the rest of his crew mates. He finds the walls to turn into yellow metal and the decks to have a yellowish cast as well. Inside the ship, he sees skeletal and rusty versions of his crew, and comes to the horrifying realization that the transformation of the metal into gold comes at the expense of him and his crew member’s youth and strength. Running from the ship, Midas reboards the Maid and quickly throws the alien ship back into space. Back on Callisto, the Foundation relieves him of his command as the illness spreads to the rest of his body. \n",
"This story is about the last spatial flight of Captain Midas. He lives in a time when humans have explored and deemed safe the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle. At the beginning, he talks about greedy human nature and what it can cause. Years ago, he was a skipper of the Martian Maid spaceship flying to Callisto. His crew - Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski - people with love for money, not noble pioneers. They detected a derelict in the supra-solar void between the EMV Triangle and the outer systems. First, they thought it was The Holcomb Foundation ship, but this one was the largest craft they had ever seen. It was on a near-collision course and probably came in from the direction of Coma Berenices - the stars. He gathered the crew and informed them that they were entitled to claim this derelict as salvage. Everyone got excited and started thinking about the money they could get for this craft. The skipper was supposed to report their finding to the EMV base. But Midas decided to do that after receiving the money for its parts. When they got near the craft, Midas noticed that the metal of its flanks was grained with glittering whorls. They realized it was a starship, and it probably had been roaming through space for millennia. It was gashed deeply by something. Cohn and three other men came back disappointed, saying there was nothing valuable inside. He brought two samples of the ship’s metal. Midas examined the chunks at his work-table, and soon the metal grew yellower. He spent some time testing the sample, and it became stable, drawing the necessary energy from somewhere, and turned into gold. Spinelli unexpectedly came into his office and noticed the piece of gold. He volunteers to go onboard the derelict, but Midas refuses. He also orders Spinelli not to say anything about the precious stone. Captain then saw Spinelli murmuring something to Zaleski and also felt inexplicably tired. He assigned Marvin and Chelly to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk in case of mutiny. With time, the number of messages from Cohn started decreasing, and they came through garbled. They sent a strange message that stated that they had lost control. Spinelli got infuriated and almost fired at the big ship from the supersonic rifle. Midas aggressively ordered him to stop, and Spinelli attacked him. After a short fight, Midas killed the officer and immediately noticed that his hands were sickly purple. He put on a pressure suit and decided to go onboard the derelict. Inside he saw his crewmates, their skeletal bodies, and old faces. The walls around them were gold. Midas realized that the ship’s metal was taking the energy required to make it stable from people who touched it. He ran and threw all the gold away. Midas landed on Callisto and was relieved of his command. The illness slowly spread from his hands to other body parts. Now he’s in a hospital and looks eighty though he’s thirty two. \n\n\n",
"Captain Midas lives on the spacemen’s pension from Holcomb Foundation. He starts a story about his experience of once having a tremendous amount of treasure. The story begins with him and the crew members on the spaceship Martian Maid when they find a massive derelict in the outer system of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle in space. Mister Spinelli is the first one to find the derelict. After he reports to the captain, and the captain measures the course of the derelict, they decide to search over the hulk based on the Space Regulation that any derelict belongs to the discoverer. They sense the chance of treasure in the derelict, searching over it without reporting to the nearest EMV base. At first, they do not find anything valuable inside the ship, so they decide to bring the whole derelict. Mister Cohn brings two pieces of the metal constituting the derelict to the captain. When the captain examines the metal, he finds his hand grows bony and old while the metal becomes gold. He realizes that the metal can somehow transmute the energy to the property of metal, stabilizing itself to become gold. Mister Spinelli witnesses this discovery when the captain is trying in his room. When Mister Spinelli asks the captain whether he can help take the derelict abroad, the captain denies his request and orders him not to leak the information about the metal. Mister Spinelli tells Zaleski, who will take care of the derelict, about the metal. The captain orders the rest of the members to help Zaleski, ensuring that he cannot take the derelict himself. The captain sets the radar finder to watch the derelict. While Spinelli and the captain watch over the derelict with a turret pointing toward it, the message from Mister Cohn, who takes charge of the crew on the derelict, starts to decrease. When they find the derelict begins to get out of sight, Spinelli suspects them of betraying and attacks the captain, while the captain senses the danger of the decreasing message and fights back. The captain kills Mister Spinelli. As the captain examines his hand’s condition, he realizes something goes wrong. The captain controls the Maid to catch up with the derelict, attempting to shoot it but fails. He wears the pressure suit and goes to the derelict, finding the prize crew aged and caress the metal. He realizes that the energy the metal draws comes from organic life, which in this situation is humans. He runs to the Maid, throws away any alien metals, and flees. And now, he lives on the spacemen’s pension, old and weary when he should be young and strong.",
"The captain of the Martian Maid starts off describing gold and the greatness of the treasure. He begins to mention how old he is, and he is also poor because he would not be here otherwise. The man goes further on to describe how people of his generation did not let anything go because they were entitled to keep whatever they found. He begins talking about how he is the skipper of the Martian Maid, and the rest of the crew ride a golden ship that they paid for with their lives. He begins to talk about the experience not too long ago, how none of the crew would have known that this was their last flight. He thinks about the sweet payload they would pick up in Callisto from delivering all of the cargo. The captain also mentions how dangerous the asteroid belt was for astrogation at the time. The story then cuts to Spinelli reporting a derelict to the rest of the crew. Once they are near the collision, an abandoned spacer is found. However, even though they have claim over the ship, the captain’s calculations show that it came from beyond the stars. Everybody becomes excited at the prospect of money; the derelict is much bigger than anything the Foundation Yards have ever built. It is also damaged too, as there is a gash from the stem to the stern with a jagged rip in its bare mangled innards. Some of the men are sent to go explore the ship, but they come back disappointed that there is nothing worthy left inside. The ship itself was never built to carry humans, but the crew still decides to take her along. When the captain puts the metal through the metallurgical testing kit, however, he discovers that it is gold. Spinelli tells him that the derelict is ready, but the captain makes him stay on the Maid with him. A few other members of the crew seem to be planning something, and the captain wonders if there is a chance that they will take off with the treasure ship. Spinelli reveals later that he did tell Zaleski about the gold, but they receive a message about losing control on the ship. Spinelli leaps at the captain, and the two of them fight. When the captain realizes that Spinelli is dead, he suddenly looks at his arms and sees how old he has become. He goes to the gold ship and sees the rest of the crew as almost skeletal beings. Realizing that the gold draws energy from them, he discards all of it and speeds away in the Maid. He is relieved of his duty on Callisto, and the Foundation refuses him another ship. The captain is thirty-two, but he looks eighty and is stuck on a hospital cot. The bitterest part is people laugh and call him Captain Midas when he tells this story. "
] |
63867
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CAPTAIN MIDAS
By ALFRED COPPEL, JR.
The captain of the Martian Maid stared avidly at the torn derelict floating against the velvet void. Here was treasure beyond his wildest dreams! How could he know his dreams should have been nightmares?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Gold! A magic word, even today, isn't it? Lust and gold ... they go hand in hand. Like the horsemen of the Apocalypse. And, of course, there's another word needed to make up the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure....
These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot....
I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face ... my face is a mask. The flesh hangs on my bones like a yellow cloth on a rickety frame. I am old, old. And I wait here on my hospital cot—wait for the weight of years I never lived to drag me under and let me forget the awful things my eyes have seen.
I'm poor, too, or else I wouldn't be here in this place of dying for old spacemen. I haven't a dime except for the pittance the Holcomb Foundation calls a spaceman's pension. Yet I had millions in my hands. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Cursed treasure....
You smile. You are thinking that I'm just an old man, beached earthside, spinning tall tales to impress the youngsters. Maybe, thinking about the kind of spacemen my generation produced, you have the idea that if ever we'd so much as laid a hand on anything of value out in space we'd not let go until Hell froze over! Well, you're right about that. We didn't seek the spaceways for the advancement of civilization or any of that Foundation bushwah, you can be certain of that. We did it for us ... for Number One. That's the kind of men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror.
If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for.
It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember her class of ship, so many advances have been made in the last few years. The Maid was two hundred feet from tip to tail, and as sleek a spacer as ever came out of the Foundation Yards. Chemical fueled, she was nothing at all like the spherical hyperdrives we see today. She was armed, too. The Foundation still thought of space as a possible stamping ground for alien creatures though no evidence of any extra-terrestrial life had ever been found ... then.
My crew was a rough bunch, like all those early crews. I remember them so well. Lean, hungry men with hell in their eyes and a great lust for high pay and hard living. Spinelli, Shelley, Cohn, Marvin, Zaleski. There wasn't a man on board who wouldn't have traded his immortal soul for a few solar dollars, and I don't claim that I was any different. That's the kind of men that opened up the spaceways, too. Don't believe all this talk about the noble pioneering spirit of man. That's tripe. There never has been such a thing as a noble pioneer. Not in space or anywhere else. It is the malcontent and the adventuring mercenary that pushes the frontier outward.
I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System.
I stood there, watching the lights of Canalopolis in the distance. For just a moment I was ... well, touched. It looked beautiful and unreal under the racing moons. The lights of the gin mills and houses made a sparkling filigree pattern on the dark waters of the ancient canal, and the moons cast their shifting shadows across the silted banks. I was too far away to see the space-fevered bums and smell the shanties, and for a little while I felt the wonder of standing on the soil of a world that man had made his own with his rapacity and his sheer guts and gimme.
I thought of our half empty cargo hold and the sweet payload we would pick up on Callisto. And I counted the extra cash my packets of snow would bring from those lonely men up there on the barren moonlets of the outer Systems. There were plenty of cargoes carried on the Maid that the Holcomb Foundation snoopers never heard about, you can be sure of that.
In those days the asteroid belt was the primary danger and menace to astrogation. For a long while it held men back from deep space, but as fuels improved a few ships were sent out over the top. A few million miles up out of the ecliptic plane brings you to a region of space that's pretty thinly strewn with asteroids, and that's the way we used to make the flight between the outer systems and the EMV Triangle. It took a long while for hyperdrives to be developed and of course atomics never panned out because of the weight problem.
So that's the orbit the Maid took on that last trip of mine. High and clear into the supra-solar void. And out there in that primeval blackness is where we found the derelict.
I didn't realize it was a derelict when Spinelli first reported it from the forward scope position. I assumed it was a Foundation ship. The Holcomb Foundation was founded for the purpose of developing spaceflight, and as the years went by it took on the whole responsibility for the building and dispatching of space ships. Never in history had there been any real evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligent life, and when the EMV Triangle proved barren, we all just assumed that the Universe was man's own particular oyster. That kind of unreasoning arrogance is as hard to explain as it is to correct.
There were plenty of ships being lost in space, and immediately that Spinelli's report from up forward got noised about the Maid every one of us started mentally counting up his share of the salvage money. All this before we were within ten thousand miles of the hulk!
All spaceships look pretty much alike, but as I sat at the telescope I saw that there was something different about this one. At such a distance I couldn't get too much detail in our small three inch glass, but I could see that the hulk was big—bigger than any ship I'd ever seen before. I had the radar fixed on her and then I retired with my slide rule to Control. It wasn't long before I discovered that the derelict ship was on a near collision course, but there was something about its orbit that was strange. I called Cohn, the Metering Officer, and showed him my figures.
"Mister Cohn," I said, chart in hand, "do these figures look right to you?"
Cohn's dark eyes lit up as they always did when he worked with figures. It didn't take him long to check me. "The math is quite correct, Captain," he said. I could see that he hadn't missed the inference of those figures on the chart.
"Assemble the ship's company, Mister Cohn," I ordered.
The assembly horn sounded throughout the Maid and I could feel the tug of the automatics taking over as the crew left their stations. Soon they were assembled in Control.
"You have all heard about Mister Spinelli's find," I said, "I have computed the orbit and inspected the object through the glass. It seems to be a spacer ... either abandoned or in distress...." Reaching into the book rack above my desk I took down a copy of the Foundation's Space Regulations and opened it to the section concerning salvage.
"Sections XVIII, Paragraph 8 of the Code Regulating Interplanetary Astrogation and Commerce," I read, "Any vessel or part of vessel found in an abandoned or totally disabled condition in any region of space not subject to the sovereignty of any planet of the Earth-Venus-Mars Triangle shall be considered to be the property of the crew of the vessel locating said abandoned or disabled vessel except in such cases as the ownership of said abandoned or disabled vessel may be readily ascertained...." I looked up and closed the book. "Simply stated, that means that if that thing ahead of us is a derelict we are entitled to claim it as salvage."
"Unless it already belongs to someone?" asked Spinelli.
"That's correct Mister Spinelli, but I don't think there is much danger of that," I replied quietly. "My figures show that hulk out there came in from the direction of Coma Berenices...."
There was a long silence before Zaleski shifted his two hundred pounds uneasily and gave a form to the muted fear inside me. "You think ... you think it came from the stars , Captain?"
"Maybe even from beyond the stars," Cohn said in a low voice.
Looking at that circle of faces I saw the beginnings of greed. The first impact of the Metering Officer's words wore off quickly and soon every man of my crew was thinking that anything from the stars would be worth money ... lots of money.
Spinelli said, "Do we look her over, Captain?"
They all looked at me, waiting for my answer. I knew it would be worth plenty, and money hunger was like a fever inside me.
"Certainly we look it over, Mister Spinelli," I said sharply.
"Certainly!"
The first thing about the derelict that struck us as we drew near was her size. No ship ever built in the Foundation Yards had ever attained such gargantuan proportions. She must have stretched a full thousand feet from bow to stern, a sleek torpedo shape of somehow unspeakable alienness. Against the backdrop of the Milky Way, she gleamed fitfully in the light of the faraway sun, the metal of her flanks grained with something like tiny, glittering whorls. It was as though the stuff were somehow unstable ... seeking balance ... maybe even alive in some strange and alien way.
It was readily apparent to all of us that she had never been built for inter-planetary flight. She was a starship. Origin unknown. An aura of mystery surrounded her like a shroud, protecting the world that gave her birth mutely but effectively. The distance she must have come was unthinkable. And the time it had taken...? Aeons. Millennia. For she was drifting, dead in space, slowly spinning end over end as she swung about Sol in a hyperbolic orbit that would soon take her out and away again into the inter-stellar deeps.
Something had wounded her ... perhaps ten million years ago ... perhaps yesterday. She was gashed deeply from stem to stern with a jagged rip that bared her mangled innards. A wandering asteroid? A meteor? We would never know. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling of things beyond the ken of men as I looked at her through the port. I would never know what killed her, or where she was going, or whence she came. Yet she was mine. It made me feel like an upstart. And it made me afraid ... but of what?
We should have reported her to the nearest EMV base, but that would have meant that we'd lose her. Scientists would be sent out. Men better equipped than we to investigate the first extrasolar artifact found by men. But I didn't report her. She was ours. She was money in the bank. Let the scientists take over after we'd put a prize crew aboard and brought her into Callisto for salvage.... That's the way I had things figured.
The Maid hove to about a hundred yards from her and hung there, dwarfed by the mighty glistening ship. I called for volunteers and we prepared a boarding party. I was thinking that her drives alone would be worth millions. Cohn took charge and he and three of the men suited up and crossed to her.
In an hour they were back, disappointment largely written on their faces.
"There's nothing left of her, Captain," Cohn reported, "Whatever hit her tore up the innards so badly we couldn't even find the drives. She's a mess inside. Nothing left but the hull and a few storage compartments that are still unbroken."
She was never built to carry humanoids he told us, and there was nothing that could give us a hint of where she had come from. The hull alone was left.
He dropped two chunks of metal on my desk. "I brought back some samples of her pressure hull," he said, "The whole thing is made of this stuff...."
"We'll still take her in," I said, hiding my disappointment. "The carcass will be worth money in Callisto. Have Mister Marvin and Zaleski assemble a spare pulse-jet. We'll jury-rig her and bring her down under her own power. You take charge of provisioning her. Check those compartments you found and install oxy-generators aboard. When it's done report to me in my quarters."
I picked up the two samples of gleaming metal and called for a metallurgical testing kit. "I'm going to try and find out if this stuff is worth anything...."
The metal was heavy—too heavy, it seemed to me, for spaceship construction. But then, who was to say what conditions existed on that distant world where this metal was made?
Under the bright fluorescent over my work-table, the chunks of metal torn from a random bulkhead of the starship gleamed like pale silver; those strange little whorls that I had noticed on the outer hull were there too, like tiny magnetic lines of force, making the surface of the metal seem to dance. I held the stuff in my bare hand. It had a yellowish tinge, and it was heavier ....
Even as I watched, the metal grew yellower, and the hand that held it grew bone weary, little tongues of fatigue licking up my forearm. Suddenly terrified, I dropped the chunk as though it were white hot. It struck the table with a dull thud and lay there, a rich yellow lump of metallic lustre.
For a long while I just sat and stared. Then I began testing, trying all the while to quiet the trembling of my hands. I weighed it on a balance. I tested it with acids. It had changed unquestionably. It was no longer the same as when I had carried it into my quarters. The whorls of force were gone. It was no longer alive with a questing vibrancy ... it was inert, stable. From somewhere, somehow, it had drawn the energy necessary for transmutation. The unknown metal—the stuff of which that whole mammoth spaceship from the stars was built—was now....
Gold!
I scarcely dared believe it, but there it was staring at me from my table-top. Gold!
I searched my mind for an explanation. Contra-terrene matter, perhaps, from some distant island universe where matter reacted differently ... drawing energy from somewhere, the energy it needed to find stability in its new environment. Stability as a terrene element—wonderfully, miraculously gold!
And outside, in the void beyond the Maid's ports there were tons of this metal that could be turned into treasure. My laughter must have been a wild sound in those moments of discovery....
A slight sound behind me made me spin around in my chair. Framed in the doorway was the heavy figure of my Third Officer, Spinelli. His black eyes were fastened hungrily on the lump of yellow metal on the table. He needed no explanation to tell him what it was, and it seemed to me that his very soul reached out for the stuff, so sharp and clear was the meaning of the expression on his heavy face.
"Mister Spinelli!" I snapped, "In the future knock before entering my quarters!"
Reluctantly his eyes left the lump of gold and met mine. "From the derelict, Captain?" There was an imperceptible pause between the last two words.
I ignored his question and made a mental note to keep a close hand on the rein with him. Spinelli was big and dangerous.
"Speak your piece, Mister," I ordered sharply.
"Mister Cohn reports the derelict ready to take aboard the prize crew ... sir," he said slowly. "I'd like to volunteer for that detail."
I might have let him go under ordinary circumstances, for he was a first class spaceman and the handling of a jury-rigged hulk would need good men. But the gold-hunger I had seen in his eyes warned me to beware. I shook my head. "You will stay on board the Maid with me, Spinelli. Cohn and Zaleski will handle the starship."
Stark suspicion leaped into his eyes. I could see the wheels turning slowly in his mind. Somehow, he was thinking, I was planning to cheat him of his rightful share of the derelict treasure ship.
"We will say nothing to the rest of the crew about the gold, Mister Spinelli," I said deliberately, "Or you'll go to Callisto in irons. Is that clear?"
"Aye, sir," murmured Spinelli. The black expression had left his face and there was a faintly scornful smile playing about his mouth as he turned away. I began wondering then what he had in mind. It wasn't like him to let it go at that.
Suddenly I became conscious of being very tired. My mind wasn't functioning quite clearly. And my arm and hand ached painfully. I rubbed the fingers to get some life back into them, still wondering about Spinelli.
Spinelli talked. I saw him murmuring something to big Zaleski, and after that there was tension in the air. Distrust.
For a few moments I pondered the advisability of making good my threat to clap Spinelli into irons, but I decided against it. In the first place I couldn't prove he had told Zaleski about the gold and in the second place I needed Spinelli to help run the Maid.
I felt that the Third Officer and Zaleski were planning something, and I was just as sure that Spinelli was watching Zaleski to see to it that there was no double-cross.
I figured that I could handle the Third Officer alone so I assigned the rest, Marvin and Chelly, to accompany Cohn and Zaleski onto the hulk. That way Zaleski would be outnumbered if he tried to skip with the treasure ship. But, of course, I couldn't risk telling them that they were to be handling a vessel practically made of gold.
I was in agony. I didn't want to let anyone get out of my sight with that starship, and at the same time I couldn't leave the Maid. Finally I had to let Cohn take command of the prize crew, but not before I had set the radar finder on the Maid's prow squarely on the derelict.
Together, Spinelli and I watched the Maid's crew vanish into the maw of the alien ship and get her under way. There was a flicker of bluish fire from her jury-rigged tubes astern, and then she was vanishing in a great arc toward the bright gleam of Jupiter, far below us. The Maid followed under a steady one G of acceleration with most of her controls on automatic.
Boats of the Martian Maid's class, you may remember, carried a six inch supersonic projector abaft the astrogation turret. These were nasty weapons for use against organic life only. They would reduce a man to jelly at fifty thousand yards. Let it be said to my credit that it wasn't I who thought of hooking the gun into the radar finder and keeping it aimed dead at the derelict. That was Spinelli's insurance against Zaleski.
When I discovered it I felt the rage mount in me. He was willing to blast every one of his shipmates into pulp should the hulk vary from the orbit we'd laid out for her. He wasn't letting anything come between him and that mountain of gold.
Then I began thinking about it. Suppose now, just suppose, that Zaleski told the rest of the crew about the gold. It wouldn't be too hard for the derelict to break away from the Maid, and there were plenty of places in the EMV Triangle where a renegade crew with a thousand tons of gold would be welcomed with open arms and no questions asked. Suspicion began to eat at me. Could Zaleski and Cohn have dreamed up a little switch to keep the treasure ship for themselves? It hadn't seemed likely before, but now—
The gun-pointer remained as it was.
As the days passed and we reached turn-over with the hulk still well within visual range, I noticed a definite decrease in the number of messages from Cohn. The Aldis Lamps no longer blinked back at the Maid eight or ten times a day, and I began to really regret not having taken the time to equip the starship with UHF radio communicators.
Each night I slept with a hunk of yellow gold under my bunk, and ridiculously I fondled the stuff and dreamed of all the things I would have when the starship was cut up and sold.
My weariness grew. It became almost chronic, and I soon wondered if I hadn't picked up a touch of space-radiation fever. The flesh of my hands seemed paler than it had been. My arms felt heavy. I determined to report myself to the Foundation medics on Callisto. There's no telling what can happen to a man in space....
Two days past turn-over the messages from the derelict came through garbled. Spinelli cursed and said that he couldn't read their signal. Taking the Aldis from him I tried to raise them and failed. Two hours later I was still failing and Spinelli's black eyes glittered with an animal suspicion.
"They're faking!"
"Like hell they are!" I snapped irritably, "Something's gone wrong...."
"Zaleski's gone wrong, that's what!"
I turned to face him, fury snapping inside of me. "Then you did disobey my orders. You told him about the gold!"
"Sure I did," he sneered. "Did you expect me to shut up and let you land the ship yourself and claim Captain's share? I found her, and she's mine!"
I fought to control my temper and said: "Let's see what's going on in her before deciding who gets what, Mister Spinelli."
Spinelli bit his thick lips and did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the image of the starship on the viewplate.
A light blinked erratically within the dark cut of its wounded side.
"Get this down, Spinelli!"
The habit of taking orders was still in him, and he muttered: "Aye ... sir."
The light was winking out a message, but feebly, as though the hand that held the lamp were shaking and the mind conceiving the words were failing.
"CONTROL ... LOST ... CAN'T ... NO ... STRENGTH ... LEFT ... SHIP ... WALLS ... ALL ... ALL GOLD ... GOLD ... SOMETHING ... HAPPENING ... CAN'T ... UNDERSTAND ... WHA...." The light stopped flashing, abruptly, in mid-word.
"What the hell?" demanded Spinelli thickly.
"Order them to heave to, Mister," I ordered.
He clicked the Aldis at them. The only response was a wild swerve in the star-ship's course. She left the orbit we had set for her as though the hands that guided her had fallen away from the control.
Spinelli dropped the Aldis and rushed to the control panel to make the corrections in the Maid's course that were needed to keep the hulk in sight.
"Those skunks! Double crossing rats!" he breathed furiously. "They won't shake loose that easy!" His hands started down for the firing console of the supersonic rifle.
I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
" Spinelli! "
My shout hung in the still air of the control room as I knocked him away from the panel.
"Get to your quarters!" I cracked.
He didn't say a thing, but his big shoulders hunched angrily and he moved across the deck toward me, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. His eyes were wild with rage and avarice.
"You'll hang for mutiny, Spinelli!" I said.
He spat out a foul name and leaped for me. I side-stepped his charge and brought my joined fists down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbled against the bulkhead and his eyes were glazed. He charged again, roaring. I stepped aside and smashed him in the mouth with my right fist, then crossing with an open-handed left to the throat. He staggered, spun and came for me again. I sank a hard left into his stomach and nailed him on the point of the jaw with a right from my shoe-tops. He straightened up and sprawled heavily to the deck, still trying to get at me. I aimed a hard kick at his temple and let it go. My metal shod boot caught him squarely and he rolled over on his face and lay still.
I nailed him with a right from my shoe-tops.
Breathing heavily, I rolled him back face up. His eyes were open,
glassy with an implacable hate. I knelt at his side and listened for
his breathing. There was none. I knew then that I had killed him. I
felt sick inside, and dizzy.
I wasn't myself as I turned away from Spinelli's body there on the
steel deck. Some of the greed died out of me, and my exertions had
increased my sense of fatigue to an almost numbing weariness. My arms
ached terribly and my hands felt as though they had been sucked dry of
their substance. Like a man in a nightmare, I held them up before my
face and looked at them. They were wrinkled and grey, with the veins
standing out a sickly purple. And I could see that my arms were taking
on that same aged look.
I was suddenly fully aware of my fear. Nothing fought against the
flood of terror that welled through me. I was terrified of that yellow
gold in my cabin, and of that ship of devil's metal out there in space
that held my shipmates. There was something unnatural about that
contra-terrene thing ... something obscene.
I located the hulk in the radar finder and swung the Maid after it,
piling on acceleration until my vision flickered. We caught her, the
Maid and I. But we couldn't stop her short of using the rifle on her,
and I couldn't bring myself to add to my depravity by killing the rest
of my men. It would have been better if I had!
I laid the Maid alongside the thousand foot hull of the derelict and
set the controls on automatic. It was dangerous, but I was beyond
caring. Then I was struggling to get myself into a pressure suit with
my wrinkled, failing hands.... Then I was outside, headed for that dark
hole.
I sank down into the stillness of her interior, my helmet light casting
long, fey shadows across the littered decks. Decks that had a yellowish
cast ... decks that no longer danced with tiny questing force-whorls....
As I approached the airlock of the compartment set aside as living
quarters for the prize crew, the saffron of the walls deepened. Crazy
little thoughts began spinning around in my brain. Words out of the
distant past loomed up with a new and suddenly terrifying
perspective ... alchemy ... transmutation ... energy. I'm a spaceman,
not a scientist. But in those moments I think I was discovering what
had happened to my crew and why the walls were turning into yellow
metal.
The lock was closed, but I swung it open and let the pressure in the
chamber rise. I couldn't wait for it to reach fourteen pounds ...
at eleven, I swung the inner door and stumbled eagerly through. The
brilliant light, reflected from gleaming walls blinded me for a moment.
And then I saw them! They huddled, almost naked in a corner, skeletal
things with skull-like faces that leered at me with the vacuous
obscenity of old age. Even their voices were raw and cracked with the
rusty decay of years. They babbled stupidly, caressing the walls with
claw-like hands. They were old, old!
I understood then. I knew what my wrinkled aged hands meant. That
devil-metal from beyond the stars had drawn the energy it needed
from ... us !
My laughter was a crazy shriek inside my helmet. I looked wildly at the
gleaming walls that had sucked the youth and strength from these men.
The walls were stable, at rest. They were purest gold ... gold ... gold!
I ran from that place still screaming with the horror of it. My hands
burned like fire! Age was in them, creeping like molten lead through my
veins, ghastly and sure....
I reached the Maid and threw every scrap of that alien metal into space
as I streaked madly away from that golden terror in the sky and its
load of ancient evil....
On Callisto I was relieved of my command. The Admiralty Court acquitted
me of the charges of negligence, but the Foundation refused me another
ship. It was my ... illness. It spread from my hands, as you can see.
Slowly, very slowly. So what remains for me? A hospital cot and a
spaceman's pension. Those tons of gold in the sky are cursed, like most
great treasures. Somewhere, out in the deeps between the stars, the
dust of my crew guards that golden derelict. It belongs to them now ...
all of it.
But the price we pay for treasure is this. Look at me. I look eighty!
I'm thirty two. And the bitterest part of the story is that people
laugh at me when I tell what happened. They laugh and call me my
nickname. Have you heard it?
It's ... Captain Midas.
|
What is the significance of the Misty Ones in the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Raiders of the Second Moon by Basil Wells.
Relevant chunks:
the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure.... These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot.... I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face
strands in the dark tide that bore it. Everything was pain-bright or dead black, and it wheeled around you, and you went nuts trying to figure which way was down. In fact, it took you months to teach your body that all ways were down and that the pit was bottomless. He became conscious of a plaintive sound in the wind, and froze to listen. It was a baby crying. It was nearly a minute before he got the significance of it. It hit him where he lived, and he began jerking frantically at his encased feet and sobbing low
stinging forehead on his arms, cursing softly and crying. Finally he rolled over, pulled his foot out of the mess, and took off his shoes. They were full of mud—sticky sandy mud. The dark world was reeling about him, and the wind was dragging at his breath. He fell back against the sand pile and let his feet sink in the mud hole and wriggled his toes. He was laughing soundlessly, and his face was wet in the wind. He couldn't think. He couldn't remember where he was and why, and he stopped caring, and after a while he felt
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
time lately? The ocean. He'd seen the ocean. Not a reservoir or lake made by flooding and by damming, but salt water and enormous. An ocean, where there could be no ocean. The Pangborns and Elvertons had been where that ocean was now. And after the Elvertons had come the Dobsons. And after them the new plastics plant. And after that the city of Crossville. And after that.... He was passing his own farm. He hadn't come through town, and yet here he was at his own farm. Could he have forgotten where town was? Could it be north of
Question:
What is the significance of the Misty Ones in the story?
Answer:
|
[
"The Misty Ones are a group of highly feared beings, thought to be supernatural in some way at the beginning of the story because of their ability to remain unseen. Noork, however, is able to catch a glimpse of the bottom of one of their feet from his vantage point high in a tree and begins to pelt the area where he believes they are with fruit. After this, he can see their outlines and that they are wearing robes with hoods, and he ceases to be afraid and attacks with arrows, killing one of the Misty Ones. He disrobes this man, who is described as heavily scarred on his face, having a low forehead, with more hair on his body and less golden skin than other men of Zuran. Once Noork is sure that the Misty Ones are not supernatural, he decides to pursue them in an attempt to rescue Sarna, sister of his friend Gurn, who has been kidnapped by them.\n\nNoork spreads the word to his friend Ud that the Misty Ones are not demons and can be trapped and skinned and lets Ud know of his rescue mission for Sarna. He also tells Rold, an enslaved man on the island of the Misty Ones and the priests of Uzdon (the god who demands sacrifice of young women). Rold decides he will help Noork with his rescue mission in exchange for Noork's promise to rescue him as well--realizing that he is imprisoned by men and not demons has allowed him to dream that he can kill his captors and be free.\n\nWhen Noork fights a priest of Uzdon in order to free Sarna, he learns that the priests not only have the robes of concealment the Misty Ones have, they also have transparent masks that allow them to see through that concealment. It allows him to anticipate their ambush at the end of the story, though not quite soon enough to stop it. Gurn, though, has received his message and acted on it. He has been capturing and \"skinning\" Misty Ones who have crossed the lake and he and his warriors ambush the Misty Ones and priests in return, freeing Noork and his friends. With the realization that the Misty Ones are men with special cloaks rather than demons with supernatural powers, their mystique evaporates and everyone they have terrorized is willing to attack them. Characters unwilling to battle demons are unafraid to attack men.",
"The Misty Ones are significant for several reasons. They are creatures that come from the island in the lake of Uzdon, and they look like mist and are therefore nearly invisible to most (other than the priests). They are thought to be demons and perhaps invincible, but Noork discovers otherwise when he gets close enough to see that they look like him. He passes a message along to Gurn that they can be trapped and skinned. Noork’s discovery of this allows him to rescue Sarna and allows Gurn and the other warriors to rescue them from Doctor Von Mark. \n",
"The Misty Ones are mysterious beings who are invisible and cause problems for others. With so little is known about them other than their devious acts, they are considered demons. They live on an island in the Lake of Uzdon and have a giant skull known as the Temple of the Skull that represents their god, Uzdon, to whom they over living female sacrifices. The Misty Ones wear cloaks that make them invisible, and until Noork shoots and kills one with an arrow, no one knows that they are flesh and bone beings underneath their robes. Noork discovers they look very much like he does but with a low, sloping forehead and more body hair. When the Misty Ones kidnap Tholon, Noork notices he can see a foot of one of them because it was covered with mud. He throws overripe fruit at the group, and the fruit stains their cloaks, enabling Noork to see them. The Misty Ones capture girls to be slave sacrifices to their god, but they also capture men who work for them in their fields and gardens and others who move through the skull all chained together. They are led by priests who also wear cloaks that make them invisible and colorful feathers along with a face shield that enables them to see the other Misty Ones in their cloaks. Once Noork discovers that the Misty Ones are like everyone else, the Misty Ones lose the advantage of the fear they engender in others and risk death at their hands.\n",
"The Misty Ones are a group of people who mostly dwell on the island of Manak. They control a group of slaves on the island and manage the sacrificial rituals for the gods they worship, Uzdon and Lornu. To complete these sacrifices, they habitually capture and imprison young women from around the land of Zura, and they choose the youngest and most beautiful to sacrifice. The Misty Ones inspire fear in the hearts of the Vasads and other peoples of Zura due to their mysterious nature and their ability to move about invisibly. However, their weakness is revealed when Noork discovers they are not completely invisible after all, and their “skin” (an invisibility robe) can be easily removed. Noork has his friend Ud pass this message along to Gurn and his Vasads to encourage them to no longer fear the Misty Ones. This tactic works, and the Vasads show up just in time to save the day."
] |
63521
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the trilogy. You don't get any thing for nothing. So add this: Cost. Or you might call it pain, sorrow, agony. Call it what you like. It's what you pay for great treasure.... These things were true when fabled Jason sailed the Argo beyond Colchis seeking the Fleece. They were true when men sailed the southern oceans in wooden ships. And the conquest of space hasn't changed us a bit. We're still a greedy lot.... I'm a queer one to be saying these things, but then, who has more right? Look at me. My hair is gray and my face
strands in the dark tide that bore it. Everything was pain-bright or dead black, and it wheeled around you, and you went nuts trying to figure which way was down. In fact, it took you months to teach your body that all ways were down and that the pit was bottomless. He became conscious of a plaintive sound in the wind, and froze to listen. It was a baby crying. It was nearly a minute before he got the significance of it. It hit him where he lived, and he began jerking frantically at his encased feet and sobbing low
stinging forehead on his arms, cursing softly and crying. Finally he rolled over, pulled his foot out of the mess, and took off his shoes. They were full of mud—sticky sandy mud. The dark world was reeling about him, and the wind was dragging at his breath. He fell back against the sand pile and let his feet sink in the mud hole and wriggled his toes. He was laughing soundlessly, and his face was wet in the wind. He couldn't think. He couldn't remember where he was and why, and he stopped caring, and after a while he felt
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
time lately? The ocean. He'd seen the ocean. Not a reservoir or lake made by flooding and by damming, but salt water and enormous. An ocean, where there could be no ocean. The Pangborns and Elvertons had been where that ocean was now. And after the Elvertons had come the Dobsons. And after them the new plastics plant. And after that the city of Crossville. And after that.... He was passing his own farm. He hadn't come through town, and yet here he was at his own farm. Could he have forgotten where town was? Could it be north of
|
What is the significance of enslavement in the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Raiders of the Second Moon by Basil Wells.
Relevant chunks:
THE GIRLS FROM EARTH By FRANK M. ROBINSON Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction January 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Problem: How can you arrange marriages with men in one solar system, women in another—and neither willing to leave his own world? I "The beasts aren't much help, are they?" Karl Allen snatched a breath of air and gave another heave on the line tied to the raft of parampa logs bobbing in the middle of the river. "No," he grunted,
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
I, the Unspeakable By WALT SHELDON Illustrated by LOUIS MARCHETTI [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "What's in a name?" might be very dangerous to ask in certain societies, in which sticks and stones are also a big problem! I fought to be awake. I was dreaming, but I think I must have blushed. I must have blushed in my sleep. " Do it! " she said. " Please do it! For me! " It was the voice
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
nicked jaws? And where had he heard them? Digging ore on Pluto; talk in the pits? Secretive suspicions voiced in smoke-laden saloons of Mars? In the labor gangs of Uranus? Where? Shano smoked and didn't know. But he knew there was a rumor, and that it was the talk of ignorant men. The captain had evaded it. Shano smoked and coughed and stared at the steel bulkhead and waited. The ship's alarm clanged. Shano jerked from his bunk like a broken watch spring. He crouched, trembling, on arthritic joints, as a loud-speaker blared throughout the ship. " All hands! We
Question:
What is the significance of enslavement in the story?
Answer:
|
[
"Enslavement and freedom as themes run throughout the story. When Noork and Sarna first meet each other in the opening scene, one of the ways they decide to trust one another is because of their mutual relationships with Gurn, a third character. Gurn has been exiled from the city of Grath because he says that his people should no longer enslave the captured Zurans from other valleys of Sekk. In the next scene, we learn that Sarna, Gurn's sister, was kidnapped by one group of slavers, escaped them with four others, and only narrowly escaped capture by a second group of slavers, the Misty Ones from the Temple of the Skull, who captured the other four of her group. Noork tells her that one day he will visit the island of Misty Ones who took her friends. At this time, he realizes that Sarna has disappeared, and he is attacked by the Misty Ones, though he is able to fight them off.\n\nDuring Noork's travels to the island of the Misty Ones, we learn his backstory: he is American pilot Stephen Dietrich, and he arrived on the moon of Sekk by following Doctor Karl Von Mark, last of the Nazi criminals at large. Dietrich's ship had crashed on Sekk, robbing him of his memory. In the conflict between the Allies and Nazis, we again see the conflict between enslavement and freedom: the Nazis forced those they considered racially \"impure\" into prison camps where they were either murdered outright or forced to engage in labor under inhumane conditions until they died; the Allied forces were a hope of freedom for these imprisoned, enslaved people.\n\nNoork spies on enslaved men in the fields outside the temple of the Misty Ones and hears them gossiping about Sarna. The older man suggests that their life is not so bad, but the younger man protests and states that one day he plans to escape. Noork approaches the younger man to find out where Sarna is being held and promises to take him along when he and Sarna escape. Noork then fights off multiple guards and a priest in order to free Sarna from the pit where she is held, which is dank and full of rotting grass mats and little light.\n\nWhile the story touches on themes of enslavement and freedom, it does not engage with them fully. The dungeon where the enslaved young women is held is described in foul terms, but Noork does not seem to free all the young women from their prison. That may happen as a result of Gurn's final attack on Doctor Von Mark and the Misty Ones, but Noork escapes only with Sarna and Rold. Rold is unhappy with being enslaved, not because he is being harmed or others are, but because he is not free to mate with attractive young women like Sarna. While the story should not need to spell out every reason why enslavement is wrong, it takes a very superficial approach to a deeply painful issue.",
"Enslavement is a major theme throughout the story. Gurn has been exiled for speaking out against the slavery that his people have inflicted on others, which is how he a Noork find one another. Noork’s travels during the action of the story are undertaken in an effort to save Sarna, who has now been enslaved twice. The person he enlists to help him, Rold, is also a slave. When Doctor Von Mark and the Misty Ones ambush Noork and the doctor recognizes him as Stephen Dietrich, he mentions that the trapper has now become the trapped. A moment later, Gurn and the other warriors free Noork from the doctor’s enslavement. Most of the story involves various people being enslaved or feeling a certain way about enslavement, and the element of Nazism in the story also lends it a broader theme of the enslavement that that regime inflicted and tried to inflict, and the continued possession of the Earth that Von Mark is working toward. \n",
"Enslavement seems to be the preferred way to deal with enemies on Sekk, and when Gurn speaks out against enslaving their Zuran captives, the city rulers label him a traitor and exile him from the city. His sister, Tholon, was captured by slavers but managed to escape with four others. However, when they passed near the Lake of Uzdon, the Misty Ones captured her four fellow escapees. And while Tholon is telling her story to Noork, she is kidnapped by the Misty Ones and spirited away to their city of Uzdon. The Misty Ones offer beautiful slave girls chosen by their priests as sacrifices to their god Uzdon, binding them to the altar and removing their hearts while still alive. The Misty Ones also enslave others to be workers. Slaves work in their cultivated fields and gardens, and in the skull, slaves are chained together with heavy chains. ",
"Enslavement is an important topic in the story as many of the Zuran peoples are enslaved by various groups. The men of Kanto are enemies of the Vasads and the people of Grath, but the city of Grath also enslaves people. When Gurn speaks out against the practice, he is exiled from Grath and becomes transient with his group of Vasads. When Noork first meets Tholon Sarna, she has fled her initial enslavement, narrowly avoided enslavement by the men of Kanto, and is then captured by the Misty Ones, who also have slaves working on the island of Manak. Noork frees Rold from his enslavement, and enlists his help to prevent Tholon Sarna from becoming a human sacrifice to Uzdon. When the Vasads defeat the Misty Ones and Dr. Von Mark, they are free to live in their own society without the constraints of slavery."
] |
63521
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THE GIRLS FROM EARTH By FRANK M. ROBINSON Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction January 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Problem: How can you arrange marriages with men in one solar system, women in another—and neither willing to leave his own world? I "The beasts aren't much help, are they?" Karl Allen snatched a breath of air and gave another heave on the line tied to the raft of parampa logs bobbing in the middle of the river. "No," he grunted,
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
I, the Unspeakable By WALT SHELDON Illustrated by LOUIS MARCHETTI [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "What's in a name?" might be very dangerous to ask in certain societies, in which sticks and stones are also a big problem! I fought to be awake. I was dreaming, but I think I must have blushed. I must have blushed in my sleep. " Do it! " she said. " Please do it! For me! " It was the voice
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
nicked jaws? And where had he heard them? Digging ore on Pluto; talk in the pits? Secretive suspicions voiced in smoke-laden saloons of Mars? In the labor gangs of Uranus? Where? Shano smoked and didn't know. But he knew there was a rumor, and that it was the talk of ignorant men. The captain had evaded it. Shano smoked and coughed and stared at the steel bulkhead and waited. The ship's alarm clanged. Shano jerked from his bunk like a broken watch spring. He crouched, trembling, on arthritic joints, as a loud-speaker blared throughout the ship. " All hands! We
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What is the plot of the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Raiders of the Second Moon by Basil Wells.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
|
[
"Noork is in a tree on a moon named Sekk, watching a woman walk through the jungle. When they speak, they learn that Noork has been living with her brother, Gurn. With this introduction, they begin to travel together.\n\nThe woman explains that she had been captured by slavers in the past but had escaped. The escapees were then followed by the Misty Ones, and the woman was the only one who made a complete escape. Noork states that he will visit the island where the Misty Ones live one day, but the woman does not answer. When Noork turns back to her, she has disappeared, and Noork is attacked. He hides in the trees and spies the Misty Ones below. He throws fruit down on them until he can easily see them by the stains the fruit makes on their clothing, then attacks with arrows. The Misty Ones flee except for one who has been killed with an arrow. Noork takes the robe of this one and sets off toward the Temple of the Skull, the home of the Misty Ones, to free the woman.\n\nNoork encounters Ud, his friend, near the lake, and tells him to tell Gurn that the MIsty Ones can be trapped and skinned. He asks Ud to tell Gurn that Noork is going to save Gurn's \"father's woman woman\" called Sarna.\n\nNoork paddles across the lake and sneaks close to the Temple of the Skull. He falls asleep in a tree and is awakened by the conversation of two slaves talking about Sarna. After one slave leaves, he speaks with the other slave, Rold, and tells him that he is there to rescue Sarna. Rold, realizing that the Misty Ones are only mortal men, tells Noork that Sarna is held in a pit beneath the temple with the other young women slaves.\n\nNoork finds the entrance to the pit but is blocked by two guards, whom he kills.He then proceeds to the cage where the young women are held, where he is confronted by a priest. He fights the priest, kills him, and frees Sarna. They go back to the field, get Rold, and the three of them flee into the jungle. They plan to go for a boat and leave, but are caught by Misty Ones waiting to trap them. At this time, Dr. Von Mark, a Nazi from Earth, confronts Noork, who is also Stephen Dietrich, an American pilot who has been hunting him and had tracked him through space to Sekk. Due to Dietrich/Noork's amnesia, he remembers none of this. Just as Von Mark is about to kill him, Gurn and other men from Wari kill the Misty Ones with arrows and Noork and the others are freed. Noork states that he can now live in peace with Gurn and Sarna in the jungle.",
"Noork, a man from Earth who doesn’t remember who he is, lives in the jungle on a second moon. He knows he was brought there by what he remembers as a huge bird and that he was taken in by a man named Gurn and the Vasad people of the jungle. He meets a woman named Sarna with whom he shares a mutual attraction, and it turns out that she is Gurn’s sister. Shortly after they discover this, they are attacked. Sarna vanishes and Noork hides, eventually discovering that the “Misty Ones” who attacked them, thought to be demons, look similar to him and can be “skinned”; this is important because their skins or coverings allow the wearer to be nearly invisible like them. \n\nNoork passes a message along via another Vasad to tell Gurn what he has learned about the Misty Ones, and to say that Noork has gone to rescue Sarna. He sneaks into the walled temple where the slaves are being kept, and enlists the help of another slave, Rold, to help them get out if he can get Sarna. Noork goes down to the cavern and, after fighting a priest to the death, rescues Sarna. They escape with Rold, only to be captured by more Misty Ones, one of whom turns out to be a Nazi from Noork’s previous life. \n\nThough Noork can’t remember him (but knows he dislikes him), Doctor Von Mark remembers him. Noork’s name was Stephen Dietrich, and he was an American flier who had chased down one of the last nazi criminals: Doctor Von Mark. Von Mark had then flown one of his shuttles to Sekk and landed successfully, while Stephen had pursued him in another of his shuttles and crashed on Sekk, resulting in his amnesia. “Noork” was the name given to him by the Vasad based on the only sounds he could make: “New York”. \n\nDoctor Von Mark asks if Noork knows the secret to the invisibility of the Misty One’s skins, since this would allow him to return to Earth and take it over for the Fatherland. When he realizes that Noork knows nothing, he moves to kill him but is shot by an arrow just in time. Gurn has rallied warriors based on Noork’s message. Noork now knows his real name and that he got where he is by hunting down an evil man. He is now happy to live safely in the jungle with Gurn and Sarna, and she says she is happy, too. \n",
"Noork is a man from Earth whose real name is Stephen Dietrich; he was pursuing the Nazi Dr. Karl Von Mark, the last of the Axis criminals at large. Dietrich followed Von Mark to Africa where Von Mark took off in a spaceship, and Dietrich followed. Both landed on Sekk, a second moon past Luna, but Dietrich’s landing was so rough that he lost his memory. When the locals found him, he said, “New York,” which they didn’t understand and named him Noork. Noork lives among the Vasads and learns their language. \n\nNoork and Tholon Sarna meet in the jungle and become friends. One day as they are talking, Noork hears feet scuffing, and Tholon disappears. Noork climbs a tree to find out where the Misty Ones are (They are invisible.). He detects movement and throws overripe fruit, which stains the cloaks of the Misty Ones. Noork shoots arrows toward the creatures and kills one. He takes that one’s robe, which is what makes the Misty Ones invisible. \n\nNoork tells one of his colleagues to take the message to Gurn, their leader and Tholon’s brother, that the Misty Ones are flesh and blood, not demons as they believe. He tells Ud that he is going to the island of the Misty Ones to save Tholon. He reaches the wall surrounding the Misty Ones’ village and overhears two slaves talking before they separate. Noork approaches the slave in the field, Rold, and asks for his help in exchange for helping Rold escape. Rold explains that the large skull is the god Uzdon, and the priests make sacrifices by taking the heart out of a living slave girl. He also tells Noork that the slave girls are held in a pit beneath the skull guarded by Misty Ones.\n\nNoork moves among the Misty Ones in anonymity since he is wearing one of their robes. He enters the skull and kills the guards who are in charge of the slave girls. Just as he is about to release Tholon, a priest catches him, and they fight until Noork kills him, too. Noork takes more robes and the priest’s face shield and leaves with Tholon and Rold. The face shield enables him to see the Misty Ones who are invisible to everyone else, so he can see when they are waiting to trap them. They capture the escape party, and one of the Misty Ones reveals that he is Dr. Von Mark after recognizing Dietrich. Von Mark reveals his plans to use the cloaks of invisibility to conquer Earth and make Germany invincible. Von Mark prepares to shoot Dietrich but is shot by an arrow first. Misty Ones close in on the group and lower their hoods, revealing Tholon’s brother Gurn and his men. Noork now remembers who he is and says he will live in peace with Gurn and his sister.\n",
"Noork searches for the bird that dropped him on a cliff (as well as another bird) when he is discovered by the Vasads. He repeated the word \"New York\", and so the Vasads call him Noork. From his perch, he now watches a girl—Tholon Sarna--moving along a trail below. She is the sister of Gurn, the Vasad leader. Gurn has been exiled from their home city of Grath because he doesn't believe in the enslavement of the Zuran, and Tholon Sarna has recently evaded capture by her enemies, the men of Konto. The Misty Ones--slavers dwellling at the Temple of the Skull and feared deeply by the Vasads--follow her. As Tholon Sarna and Noork walk, she is captured by a Misty One made invisible by a special robe. A Misty One clubs Noork, injuring his arm. Thanks to their blurry outlines, Noork realizes the Misty Ones are not entirely invisible, and he uses his legs to pelt them with fruit. Upon seeing their true form--closer to his own human shape--Noork loses his fear of them and begins attacking them with arrows. He takes the invisibility robe of a fallen Misty One and uses it to disguise himself as he makes his way to the Temple of the Skull. Along the way, he reunites with his friend Ud, a jungle-dwelling beast-man. He sends Ud to inform Gurn of the Misty Ones' newfound weakness. We then learn that Noork's real name is Stephen Dietrich, and he had been hunting Dr. Karl Von Mark, a criminal scientist attempting to revivify the Nazi power structure. Von Mark manages to evade Dietrich by landing on Sekk, and Dietrich crashes and succumbs to amnesia. The bird that had carried him to the cliff was his own plane, and the bird he had been seeking was Von Mark's. Now, Noork descends upon a slave named Rold near the Temple of the Skull. He enlists Rold to help him free Tholon Sarna. Rold informs Noork of the High Priest's plan to choose a sacrifice to their god, Uzdon, from the female slaves caged in a pit beneath the Skull. Noork promises a robe to Rold if his plan to rescue Tholon Sarna succeeds. In disguise, Noork approaches the Skull, heavily guarded by Misty Ones, and makes his way toward the pit. Along the way, he defeats guards and pockets two robes. Before freeing Tholon Sarna, Noork battles the High Priest, kills him, and they make their escape. Soon after, they are again trapped by a group of Misty Ones--this time led by none other than Dr. Karl Von Mark himself. Von Mark tells Noork of his desire to use the secret of invisibility to make Germany all-powerful, and he pulls out a gun to kill him. Suddenly, Gurn emerges with the Vasads, and they kill Von Mark with arrows. Noork recalls his true identify as Captain Dietrich and looks forward to a life of peace amongst the Vasads with Tholon Sarna."
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
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Describe the setting of the story
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Raiders of the Second Moon by Basil Wells.
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started to rise, the wave of blackness warned me, and I restrained my ambition. "I will walk soon." "We will have much to talk about. Your friend has pointed to the stars and told me a strange story of your coming. We have walked around the ship. He has told me how it rides through the sky. I can hardly make myself believe." Tomboldo's eyes cast upward under the strong ridge of forehead where the eyebrows should have been. He was evidently trying to visualize the flight of a space ship. "We will have much to tell each other." "I
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
to kill it. It wouldn't do to go home with a bottle sticking out of his pocket. He stood there in the night wind, sipping at it, and watching the reddish moon come up in the east. The moon looked as phoney as the setting sun. He straightened in sudden determination. It had to be sometime. Get it over with, get it over with now. He opened the fence-gap, slipped through, and closed it firmly behind him. He retrieved his bag, and waded quietly through the tall grass until he reached the hedge which divided an area of sickly peach
men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror. If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
Question:
Describe the setting of the story
Answer:
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[
"The story begins in thick jungle on Sekk, which we are told is a \"second moon\" which retains a \"breathable atmosphere\" around a lake surrounded by eleven jungled valleys. In this way, it is implied that Sekk is a second moon of Earth.\n\nIn the jungle, we meet Noork and a young woman named Sarna. They begin traveling together through the jungle, but soon Sarna disappears and Noork is attacked. This is our first encounter with the Misty Ones, who blend in with the jungle foliage. Noork defeats the Misty Ones and continues toward the lake and island where they make their home.\n\nNoork briefly encounters his friend Ud near the marshy lowlands that lie between the jungled valleys on Sekk and the central Lake of Uzdon, but this area is not described. When Noork reaches the central island in the lake, we encounter a non-jungle landscape for the first time. Noork finds himself in a cultivated field, and sees the shape of a huge white skull about half a mile away. After speaking with an enslaved man and learning where Sarna is being held, Noork continues toward the skull.\n\nThe skull is a dome of white stone, with black stone for eye-sockets and nose-holes. The interior contains a raised altar made of precious metals--gold, silver, and brass--and precious stones, as well as stone images of the two gods the Misty Ones worship. Below the altar is the caged area where the young women are held; Noork detects the entrance to this area by its foul odor. The room where the young women are kept is dimly lit by only two torches, very damp with pools of dirty water all around, and holds at least twenty young women. They have nothing to sit on but rotten grass mats. In contrast to the enslaved men who are out in the cultivated fields and open air, the young women are in a desperate situation indeed. They can only sit in their foul, rotting prison and wait to be sacrificed.",
"The story takes place sometime after World War II on a second moon that is obscured by the moon we know and is known as Sekk. The moon Sekk has a diameter of less than five-hundred miles and a thirty-two-hour revolution, and it has a breathable atmosphere that sustains life. Life on Sekk is concentrated within a star-shaped cavity that features a lake and eleven valleys branching out from it, all of which contain jungles. The action of the story happens in the jungle areas, the lake, a walled temple, and the cavern prison beneath it. \n",
"The story is set on Sekk, the second moon, beyond Luna and blocked from Earth’s view by Luna. Sekk is less than 500 miles in diameter and has a revolution period of 32 hours. It has a breathable atmosphere and features a star-shaped center surrounded by twelve valleys thick with jungle growth. Some trees are over forty feet tall; Noork uses these trees to surveil the area around him. Several groups live on Sekk in different villages, and there are dangerous wild animals called spotted narls. There is a mysterious group of beings, believed to be demons, called the Misty Ones because they are invisible. They live on an island in the middle of a lake and have a huge skull that represents their god, Uzdon. Female slaves are held captive in a pit beneath the skull. The story takes place after World War II, when the Allies were searching for Nazi officers to stand trial for their war crimes. Dr. Karl Von Mark is one of the Nazi officials, and he makes his way to Africa, pursued by the American Stephen Dietrich. They both fly into space and land on Sekk where Von Mark works on his scheme to return and take over the Earth, and Dietrich loses his memory and becomes known as Noork.",
"The story takes place on a small moon called Sekk, five hundred miles wide with a thirty-two-hour day. The atmosphere on Sekk supports life, which exists in rich abundance within a star-like depression in its earth. Deep in this depression is a lake surrounded by twelve vast, green valleys and jungles. The jungles are dense and covered with massive trees that look like giants. Many of these trees have sticky fruits that Noork later uses to help him see the Misty Ones. Noork paddles across the lake in order to reach the island of Manak, which is home to the Temple of Skull where the Misty Ones make their sacrifices to the gods Uzdon and Lornu. The Temple is comprised mostly of stone, and the sacrificial altar is made of brass, gold, and silver. After navigating through the Temple to find Tholon Sarna, he eventually ends up in “the pit”—a cavern dimly lit with torches and peppered with dark standing water. After their escape from the Temple, they are once again stopped by Misty Ones in a grassy inlet back on the mainland. This is where Dr. Von Mark reveals Noork’s true identity to him and is killed by Gurn and the Vasads."
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started to rise, the wave of blackness warned me, and I restrained my ambition. "I will walk soon." "We will have much to talk about. Your friend has pointed to the stars and told me a strange story of your coming. We have walked around the ship. He has told me how it rides through the sky. I can hardly make myself believe." Tomboldo's eyes cast upward under the strong ridge of forehead where the eyebrows should have been. He was evidently trying to visualize the flight of a space ship. "We will have much to tell each other." "I
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
to kill it. It wouldn't do to go home with a bottle sticking out of his pocket. He stood there in the night wind, sipping at it, and watching the reddish moon come up in the east. The moon looked as phoney as the setting sun. He straightened in sudden determination. It had to be sometime. Get it over with, get it over with now. He opened the fence-gap, slipped through, and closed it firmly behind him. He retrieved his bag, and waded quietly through the tall grass until he reached the hedge which divided an area of sickly peach
men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror. If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Galactic Ghost by Walter Kubilius.
Relevant chunks:
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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"John Willard and Larry Dobbin are astronauts who have been in space for four years on the rocket Mary Lou, and as Dobbin is dying, he regrets that he will not see Earth again. Willard assures him that they will make it back, but he knows that they will never make it back because their ship was damaged by a meteor. Although the ship can still carry out functions to support life, it is not navigable. After Willard helps Dobbin look at the stars one more time, Dobbin cries out that it’s true—when an astronaut is dying, the Ghost Ship comes for him. \n\nWillard recycles Dobbin’s body but feels regretful about it. He longs to see the Earth again and walk on it, but he knows this will never happen and feels intensely lonely. After two years, a strange thing happens. Willard is looking at the stars, and it seems that they are winking at him. Something seems to be moving toward him, and it turns out to be an ancient ship. Willard’s gauges do not register the ship’s presence although he sees it with his own eyes, and Willard realizes that it is the Ghost Ship coming for him. Strangely enough, however, the ship turns away and moves away from him.\n\nSeven years later, a newspaper on Earth publishes a story that Willard’s son, J. Willard II, plans to build a larger version of his father’s ship, the Mary Lou II, in memory of his father, but Willard Sr. is unaware of this. He continues to experience excruciating loneliness and dreams about his life on Earth—the people he knew, the sounds, and the cities. One day a giant rocket ship comes alongside the Mary Lou, and Willard is thrilled that he has been discovered. But the vessel turns away and leaves. Willard notices that he can see starlight through the ship and realizes it is the Ghost Ship. \n\nOne day he sees another ship and, at first, fears the Ghost Ship has returned. The new ship looks solid, though, and it contacts him, addressing the Mary Lou by name. Willard believes that this ship will take him back to Earth and eagerly boards it. Willard is kept drugged for a while but eventually is alert enough to speak with the captain. When Willard asks when they will return to Earth, the captain explains that they cannot return because matter in space loses its mass and energy until nothing is left. If they tried to return to Earth, they would pass through it. Willard then realizes he is on the Ghost Ship, and he is one of its Ghosts. \n\n",
"Galactic Ghost begins with death. John Willard is taking care of his co-pilot and best friend, Larry Dobbin as he dies. A meteor struck their rocket ship, the Mary Lou, and damaged both her and Dobbin. As Dobbin dies, Willard gently takes care of him and lifts him up to the port so he can see the stars one last time. Just before he passes, Dobbin cries out and says he saw the infamous ghost ship. It steals dying spacemen who have no hope of returning to Earth, cursing them to spend the rest of their lives as ghosts in space. \nAfter Dobbin passes, Willard watches over him for two days before removing his body and turning it into energy for the useless engine in the Mary Lou. Although the ship is livable, it is not flyable. Taking careful diligence to check every part of the ship, Willard manages to keep the Mary Lou from completely shutting down. He transforms waste into food and learns to survive. \nTwo years of great loneliness and despair pass. As Willard looks out the port, he sees blinking stars. Excited, he investigates and realizes that it was an old-fashioned spaceship from decades ago. He soon sees that half of it is invisible, hence the blinking star phenomenon. As the ship gets closer, his sensors remain quiet. Putting it all together, he concludes that this is the Ghost Ship, but pushes the thought away, claiming it’s impossible. Slowly, the ship turns around and travels away from him. \nFlash forward seven more years and a newspaper published a story about Willard and Dobbin on Earth. Sadly, he would never get to see it. Willard’s son was about to create his own ship called Mary Lou II to honor his father. Willard spends his years alone trying to survive and also trying to fight off his memories of home, as they torture him. He kept up with the days and nights of Earth for many years and made his bed. But the memories of his old friends, the cities he lived in, and the crunch of snow beneath his feet drove him mad. Quickly, he lost track of the days. Another ship came and went, torturing him with hope yet again. \nAlmost twenty years passed and he grew more anguished every day. A ship came toward him and asked if he wanted to board, seeing as his ship was unlivable. Grateful he had checked the space suit beforehand, Willard traveled to the other ship and quickly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted by his years of solitude. After being drugged and evaded, Willard finally gets to speak to the captain of the ship on the third week who reveals that this is the Ghost Ship. Willard was only able to perceive the Ghost Ship because he and the Mary Lou were already ghosts, faded to the human eye. They are only shells on the Ghost Ship, and Willard is doomed to join them forever. ",
"John Willard's and Larry Dobbin's ship the \"Mary Lou\" had been damaged by a meteor during its mission to explore a small planet beyond Pluto, and Willard and Dobbin are waiting to die in space. Eventually, Dobbin dies, and he claims to see the fabled \"Ghost Ship\" seconds before his passing. After Dobbin's death, Willard manages to stay alive thanks to the machines that could convert waste into food and air. Willard spends two years alone, lost in hopeless thought and agony. Eventually, he sees a blinking shape in the distance, which he soon determines is an old-fashioned rocket ship. However, his instruments indicate there is no ship despite what he sees. Willard oscillates between doubting his own vision and believing there must be a scientific explanation for it. As he struggles with these thoughts, the ship leaves, and Willard spends seven years alone. Meanwhile, back on Earth, a newspaper from his hometown of Arden publishes an obituary of Willard and Dobbin indicating Willard’s son’s intention to build a “Mary Lou II.” Willard recalls memories with his wife and co-workers and the feeling of walking around Arden. He thinks about the legend of the Ghost Ship, which is said to come for the spacemen who die in space alone. A few years pass, and Willard sees the Ghost Ship pass close to him and turn away again, appearing to taunt him. He begins to lose track of time and guesses that as many as twenty years pass; he spends his days going through the motions of managing the ship as he feels himself aging physically. Then, he sees a ship approach, and this time it is a real ship. The ship sends out a rescue calls and retrieves Willard from the “Mary Lou.” Willard spends the next few days reacquainting himself with human interaction and struggling with the horrible memories of his decades in solitude. Then, he starts to realize something is off about the crew of the ship that rescued him. They will not engage him in any conversation other than the operations of the ship. When Willard meets the captain later, he reveals he actually is on the Ghost Ship after all. It only appeared solid to Willard the more the “Mary Lou” lost its mass and energy and itself became a kind of “ghost ship” through its aimless wandering through space. Willard realizes he is dead and will never again return to Earth. ",
"John Willard and Larry Dobbin are the lone space explorers aboard the Mary Lou, a ship that can’t move due to meteor damage. As the story begins, WIllard tries to comfort Dobbin as Dobbin dies. Before passing away, Dobbin sees what he believes to be “The Ghost Ship”, a fabled ship that comes for dying spacemen. Willard believes Ghost Ships are just fairy tales and that Dobbin was delirious. \n\nTwo years later, Willard sees what looks like a partially invisible rocket ship, though his ship’s control board shows no sign of anything. As the ship turns away and disappears, Willard wonders if he imagined it or if it could be The Ghost Ship, but decides that is impossible. \n\nSeven more years go by, and we read a small article from Willard and Dobbin’s hometown newspaper (that we are told Willard will never see), about the thirteenth anniversary of Willard and Dobbin embarking on their mission, how they have never been heard from again, and how Willard’s son is having a large spaceship manufactured in his father’s honor. \n\nBack on the Mary Lou, Willard can’t help but dream of his Earth days each night. He grows more and more despondent and thinks about Ghost Ships. He stops looking out the window, and isn’t sure if fifteen or twenty years have passed. He wonders if he has gone mad when he sees a ship coming. Everything changes when he realizes that it’s a real ship that taps out a real message on his space-telegrapher.\n\nThe other ship invites him to come aboard and he gratefully accepts, boarding it and immediately falling asleep. Over the next few weeks he drifts in and out of consciousness, knowing that he must be being drugged but also realizing it would be difficult for him to acclimate to being around others so soon. His memories start to come back and his mind starts to clear, and he notices that none of the men caring for him want to give him any information or answer his questions. \n\nAfter Willard awakens fully, one of the men says he’ll get the captain, who wanted to see Willard when he came to. The captain comes to see him, and Willard notices that he is very old. He tells the captain that he can’t wait to get to Earth and asks when they’ll go. The captain explains that after floating around in space for as long as they and Willard have, things and people lose their mass and energy. Willard hadn’t yet lost his twenty years ago, which is why their ship didn’t look fully formed to him then. Now that he has, he is just a shell like them and can see them fully. \n\nAs Willard puts the pieces together, the captain explains that they can’t go to Earth because they would pass right through it. Willard realizes that this is, in fact, a Ghost Ship, and that they are the ghosts, and the captain confirms this. \n"
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and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
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What is the significance of memories in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Galactic Ghost by Walter Kubilius.
Relevant chunks:
somewhere, with the dust between my toes. Or was it a dream?" "I guess when the past is old enough," she said, "it becomes a dream." He watched her footprints in the dust. "God, listen to the quiet." "I can't seem to remember so much quiet around me. There's always been the sound of a space ship, or the pumps back in the cities." He did not answer but continued to watch her footsteps and to feel the dust squishing up between his toes. Then suddenly: "Mary!" She stopped, whirling around. He was staring down at her feet. She followed
touched the water to his lips. It was cool and satisfying. He drank it, convinced completely. Eric asked, "And I am to destroy the City?" "Yes. The time has come." "But why?" Eric demanded. For an instant he could see the twinkling beauty as clearly as if he had stood outside the walls of this building. Kroon said, "There are difficulties. The machine builds according to the mass will of the people, though it is sensitive to the individual in areas where it does not conflict with the imagination of the mass. We have had strangers, visitors, and even our
know! Walton wavered, then abruptly made his decision. He sucked in a deep breath and walked briskly toward the big room where the euthanasia files were kept. The room was large, as rooms went nowadays—thirty by twenty, with deck upon deck of Donnerson micro-memory-tubes racked along one wall and a bank of microfilm records along the other. In six weeks of life Popeek had piled up an impressive collection of data. While he stood there, the computer chattered, lights flashed. New facts poured into the memory banks. It probably went on day and night. "Can I help—oh, it's you, Mr.
lived to remember it. Until hospitals are built on this forlorn world, humans like you who haven't been properly conditioned will have to stay right at home." "How about these men that live and work here?" "They never get here until they've been through the mill first. Adenoids, appendix', all the extra parts they can get along without." "Well," Judith said. "I've certainly learned my lesson!" Gray didn't answer, but from out of the darkness surrounding her came a sound remarkably resembling a snort. "Gray?" Judith asked fearfully. "Yes?" "Hasn't the pilot been gone an awfully long time?" Rat himself
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
Question:
What is the significance of memories in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Both Dobbin and Willard have memories of Earth that sadden them and make them lonely. As Dobbin is dying, he remembers his life on Earth, and his greatest regret is that he will never see it again. Dobbin is satisfied with his life and experiences, but his Earth-loneliness prevents him from dying a happy man. Willard is also pained by his memories of Earth and what he has lost and will never have again. Alone in space, Willard considers his memories the only things of value to him. Because his memories cause him so much pain, Willard tries to ignore them or remove them, but they return in his dreams. His memories in his dreams are full of sensory details and other details that he did not notice when he was on Earth. However, when Willard is drugged and sleeping on the Ghost Ship, his dreams are of memories from the years he spent on the Mary Lou, and his dreams about people that he knew are unpleasant. Willard believes that if he could walk on Earth one more time, he would die a happy man.",
"Memories are both joys for Willard as well as his greatest anguish. The memories of his time on Earth, the sound of his friend’s voices, the feel of the ground beneath his feet, and even the sounds of the buildings and the city torture him since it gives him something to hope for. \nHe is not able to let go of his life because he longs to survive and live out the rest of his days on Earth. He spends almost 20 years alone while in space, holding on to his memories to keep him going. Unlike Dobbin, memories became Willard’s constant companion and the only thing that lasted with him throughout his time aboard the Mary Lou. \nIn the end, though, his memories basically haunted and tormented him. He would push them away, only to dream of them at night. His memories broke him and, without anyone beside him, Willard slowly faded away into nothing more than a shell of a man. \n",
"Memories function as a link to reality for Willard. The more he struggles to stay sane during his long periods of isolation, the more he relies on his vivid memories of Earth—walking along the streets of Arden, hearing the voices of his co-workers and scientists he used to know, the voices of his friends and wife–to keep him alive. Even as the “Mary Lou” slowly begins to lose its energy and shape and become a “ghost ship”, Willard is not aware that this process is even happening because his memories keep him grounded in a kind of reality. In this reality, his memories keep Willard alive because Willard believes he is alive and that a real ship has come to save him. The idea of returning to Earth and seeing those memories come to life again keeps Willard going for all those decades.",
"Memories are very significant in the story, because they both sustain Willard’s will to keep going and torment him when he is at his lowest points. He dreams of his Earth days at night and longs to hear the voices of his friends, family, and coworkers, and to see Earth again. When he is rescued by The Ghost Ship, he tells the Captain that the idea of seeing Earth is all that has kept him going. His Earth memories have also made him feel even lonelier as he has floated through space, and now on The Ghost Ship his memories of being stranded on the Mary Lou haunt him in his nightmares. His memories have alternately been a struggle and a lifeline, but are ultimately what have kept him connected to his humanity. \n"
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somewhere, with the dust between my toes. Or was it a dream?" "I guess when the past is old enough," she said, "it becomes a dream." He watched her footprints in the dust. "God, listen to the quiet." "I can't seem to remember so much quiet around me. There's always been the sound of a space ship, or the pumps back in the cities." He did not answer but continued to watch her footsteps and to feel the dust squishing up between his toes. Then suddenly: "Mary!" She stopped, whirling around. He was staring down at her feet. She followed
touched the water to his lips. It was cool and satisfying. He drank it, convinced completely. Eric asked, "And I am to destroy the City?" "Yes. The time has come." "But why?" Eric demanded. For an instant he could see the twinkling beauty as clearly as if he had stood outside the walls of this building. Kroon said, "There are difficulties. The machine builds according to the mass will of the people, though it is sensitive to the individual in areas where it does not conflict with the imagination of the mass. We have had strangers, visitors, and even our
know! Walton wavered, then abruptly made his decision. He sucked in a deep breath and walked briskly toward the big room where the euthanasia files were kept. The room was large, as rooms went nowadays—thirty by twenty, with deck upon deck of Donnerson micro-memory-tubes racked along one wall and a bank of microfilm records along the other. In six weeks of life Popeek had piled up an impressive collection of data. While he stood there, the computer chattered, lights flashed. New facts poured into the memory banks. It probably went on day and night. "Can I help—oh, it's you, Mr.
lived to remember it. Until hospitals are built on this forlorn world, humans like you who haven't been properly conditioned will have to stay right at home." "How about these men that live and work here?" "They never get here until they've been through the mill first. Adenoids, appendix', all the extra parts they can get along without." "Well," Judith said. "I've certainly learned my lesson!" Gray didn't answer, but from out of the darkness surrounding her came a sound remarkably resembling a snort. "Gray?" Judith asked fearfully. "Yes?" "Hasn't the pilot been gone an awfully long time?" Rat himself
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
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Who is Larry Dobbin, and what happens to him?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Galactic Ghost by Walter Kubilius.
Relevant chunks:
fact and presented him as neat and fresh. "I have some work to do now." His voice was barely audible. "I won't keep you any longer, then," Fred said. The screen went dead. Walton killed the contact at his end, got up, walked to the window. He nudged the opaquer control and the frosty white haze over the glass cleared away, revealing the fantastic beehive of the city outside. Idiot! he thought. Fool! He had risked everything to save one baby, one child probably doomed to an early death anyway. And FitzMaugham knew—the old man could see through Walton with
... and life. "Hello, Mr. Walton. What brings you down here?" Walton smiled affably. "Just a routine investigation, Doctor. I try to keep in touch with every department we have, you know." "Mr. FitzMaugham was down here to look around a little while ago. We're really getting a going-over today, Mr. Walton!" "Umm. Yes." Walton didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd have to rely on the old man's abiding faith in his protégé to pull him out of any possible stickiness that arose. "Seen my brother around?" he asked. "Fred? He's working in
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
an education in the law, a short spell as Senator FitzMaugham's private secretary, followed last month by his sudden elevation to assistant administrator of the newly-created Popeek Bureau. For Fred, medicine, unsuccessful private practice, finally a job in the Happysleep section of Popeek, thanks to Roy.
open. A tall, dark-haired man in an open jacket came rushing through and paused dramatically just over the threshold. Immediately behind him came three unsmiling men in the gray silk-sheen uniforms of security. They carried drawn needlers. "Are you Administrator Walton?" the big man asked, in an astonishingly deep, rich voice. "I have to see you. I'm Lyle Prior." The three security men caught up and swarmed all over Prior. One of them turned apologetically to Walton. "We're terribly sorry about this, sir. He just broke away and ran. We can't understand how he got in here, but he did."
Question:
Who is Larry Dobbin, and what happens to him?
Answer:
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[
"John Willard considers Larry Dobbin his best friend. They are both astronauts in a rocket ship that was on a voyage past Pluto to explore a possible planetoid. Their ship was struck by a meteor and can no longer fly, so they are drifting through space. When the story opens, Dobbin is dying. His breathing is erratic, and his fingertips are black. Dobbin has accepted his impending death, but Willard tries to convince Dobbin that he is not dying and that they will return to Earth. Dobbin longs to return to Earth and regrets that he will not see it again. He remembers his first space flight as Willard raises him to look out the port window at the stars. Before he dies, Dobbin declares that the Ghost Ship has come for him. He points to it out the window, but Willard does not see it. Willard believes that Dobbin has gone mad. Dobbin then dies. Dobbin is mentioned in a newspaper account thirteen years after the men left on their voyage when Willard’s son builds a larger version of their ship called the Mary Lou II. The article indicates they were never heard from again. \n",
"Larry Dobbin is John Willard’s right-hand man abroad the space ship Mary Lou. They blasted off from Rocket Port nine years before the beginning of the story. They went to space to explore the possibility of another planetoid hidden beyond Pluto. \nLarry Dobbin, as Willard’s companion and confidante, operated the Mary Lou from the control board, possibly co-piloting with Willard. \nHowever, less than five years into their adventure, the Mary Lou was struck by a meteor, which damaged the Mary Lou to no repair but only in certain areas. The meteor did not damage the assimilators and convertors, which meant the ship was livable, but not moveable. However, assumedly during the meteor strike, Dobbin was severely injured. At the beginning of the story, he is dying and sees a ship far in the distance. He claims it’s the ghost ship coming to take him away. After spotting the ship, Dobbin quickly passes. Willard mourns respectfully and follows the vigil ritual. Two days later, Willard disposed of Dobbin’s body, and his atoms were converted into pure energy for the Mary Lou. ",
"Larry Dobbin is Willard’s closest friend and fellow explorer who joins Willard on the “Mary Lou.” Their mission is to journey to a small planet that lies beyond Pluto. At some point in their expedition, a meteor hits their ship and damages it, causing the “Mary Lou” to drift through unknown space, unable to return to Earth. Dobbin becomes sick during this period, and Willard realizes he is going to die. Dobbin hopes to return to Earth prior to his death, and Willard entertains this fantasy in order to give him some hope and peace before his passing. Dobbin remembers his first journey into space, and as he peers out into the abyss towards the end of his life, he exclaims that he sees the Ghost Ship—a legend amongst sailors and spacemen who claim people see such a ship in the moments before death. Dobbin dies shortly after announcing his vision, and Willard is left alone.",
"Larry Dobbin (called “Harry Dobbin” by Willard) is the other space explorer on the Mary Lou with Willard. They embarked on a voyage to explore a planetoid beyond Pluto, and were never heard from on Earth again. As the story begins, they are four years into the mission and Dobbin is dying of an unspecified illness that has turned his finger tips black and made it difficult for him to breathe or speak. Willard lifts him to the window of the ship so he can see the stars one last time, and Dobbin says he sees The Ghost Ship and that it has come for him because he is dying. Willard assures him that isn’t the case as Dobbin passes away. Willard keeps vigil over Dobbin’s remains for two days before disposing of them in the ship’s engine. \n"
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fact and presented him as neat and fresh. "I have some work to do now." His voice was barely audible. "I won't keep you any longer, then," Fred said. The screen went dead. Walton killed the contact at his end, got up, walked to the window. He nudged the opaquer control and the frosty white haze over the glass cleared away, revealing the fantastic beehive of the city outside. Idiot! he thought. Fool! He had risked everything to save one baby, one child probably doomed to an early death anyway. And FitzMaugham knew—the old man could see through Walton with
... and life. "Hello, Mr. Walton. What brings you down here?" Walton smiled affably. "Just a routine investigation, Doctor. I try to keep in touch with every department we have, you know." "Mr. FitzMaugham was down here to look around a little while ago. We're really getting a going-over today, Mr. Walton!" "Umm. Yes." Walton didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd have to rely on the old man's abiding faith in his protégé to pull him out of any possible stickiness that arose. "Seen my brother around?" he asked. "Fred? He's working in
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
an education in the law, a short spell as Senator FitzMaugham's private secretary, followed last month by his sudden elevation to assistant administrator of the newly-created Popeek Bureau. For Fred, medicine, unsuccessful private practice, finally a job in the Happysleep section of Popeek, thanks to Roy.
open. A tall, dark-haired man in an open jacket came rushing through and paused dramatically just over the threshold. Immediately behind him came three unsmiling men in the gray silk-sheen uniforms of security. They carried drawn needlers. "Are you Administrator Walton?" the big man asked, in an astonishingly deep, rich voice. "I have to see you. I'm Lyle Prior." The three security men caught up and swarmed all over Prior. One of them turned apologetically to Walton. "We're terribly sorry about this, sir. He just broke away and ran. We can't understand how he got in here, but he did."
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What is the relationship between Dobbin and Willard?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Galactic Ghost by Walter Kubilius.
Relevant chunks:
I, the Unspeakable By WALT SHELDON Illustrated by LOUIS MARCHETTI [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "What's in a name?" might be very dangerous to ask in certain societies, in which sticks and stones are also a big problem! I fought to be awake. I was dreaming, but I think I must have blushed. I must have blushed in my sleep. " Do it! " she said. " Please do it! For me! " It was the voice
he wrote exactly that, in small, neat script. It was unfortunate for his curiosity that Don could not see the contents of the three envelopes that were mailed from the offices of POSAT the following week. For this time they differed. Bill Evans was once again disappointed. The pamphlet that was enclosed gave what apparently meant to be final answers to life's problems. They were couched in vaguely metaphysical terms and offered absolutely no help to him. His disappointment was tempered, however, by the knowledge that he had unexpectedly found a job. Or, rather, it had fallen into his lap.
THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN By BRYCE WALTON Illustrated by BOB HAYES [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] First one up this tallest summit in the Solar System was a rotten egg ... a very rotten egg! Bruce heard their feet on the gravel outside and got up reluctantly to open the door for them. He'd been reading some of Byron's poems he'd sneaked aboard the ship; after that he had been on the point of dozing off, and now
Wanderers of the Wolf Moon By NELSON S. BOND They were marooned on Titan, their ship wrecked, the radio smashed. Yet they had to exist, had to build a new life on a hostile world. And the man who assumed command was Gregory Malcolm, the bespectacled secretary—whose only adventures had come through the pages of a book. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1944. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Sparks snapped off the switches and followed him to the door of the radio turret. Sparks
What is POSAT? By PHYLLIS STERLING SMITH Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Of course coming events cast their shadows before, but this shadow was 400 years long! The following advertisement appeared in the July 1953 issue of several magazines: MASTERY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE CAN BE YOURS! What is the secret source of those profound principles that can solve the problems of life? Send for our FREE booklet of explanation. Do not be a
Question:
What is the relationship between Dobbin and Willard?
Answer:
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[
"Larry Dobbin and John Willard are astronauts together in space on a mission to explore a planetoid beyond Pluto. When a meteor damages their rocket, they both realize they will never return to Earth. Willard considers Dobbin the best friend he has ever had friend, and when Dobbin is dying, Willard tries to keep his spirits up by telling him that he has a new plan for a way for them to return to Earth. When Dobbin wants to see the stars one last time before he dies, Willard raises him so that he can see them out the port window. When Dobbins sees the Ghost Ship and says that it has come for him, Willard assures him that nothing is there. After Dobbin dies, Willard holds a wake for him for two days before he recycles Dobbin’s body because the ship can still break down waste and refuse to create food and air. Afterward, Willard regrets disposing of Dobbin’s body. With Dobbin gone, Willard experiences great pain and loneliness. Eventually, Willard sees the Ghost Ship and knows that his friend was right about it.",
"Dobbin and Willard are close friends, companions, and colleagues. As they co-pilot and run the Mary Lou together in outer space, their relationship continued to develop. Willard even said that Dobbin was his sole friend in space. Being the only two people on board the Mary Lou brought them closer together and helped their relationship evolve. \nAlthough the reader does not see them together much, the effects of Dobbin on Willard are very evident and show how close the two of them were. Willard watched over his body for two Earth days before respectfully disposing of it. This dedication to his brethren shows how close the two of them became. \n",
"John Willard and Larry Dobbin are both spacemen piloting the “Mary Lou” on a mission to explore a small planet far away from Earth, past Pluto. Due to their isolation and sheer amount of time spent together, they become close friends. In fact, they are the only friends each other has ever had in outer space. Following the meteor strike that disables their ship, Willard understands Dobbin’s desire to return to Earth as well as the importance of having hope that such a return would one day be possible. Willard offers Dobbin support in his dying moments, holding him up so he can see out the window. This is when Dobbin sees the Ghost Ship right before passing away. Dobbin’s vision would influence Willard’s struggle between belief and disbelief throughout the remainder of his time in space.",
"Dobbin and Willard are the two space explorers aboard the Mary Lou, a ship bound to explore past Pluto. At the beginning of the story, Willard describes Dobbin as his only friend in space, and the best friend he ever had. The loss of Dobbin sends Willard into a spiral of loneliness and depression that lasts decades, as Dobbin was his only companion and connection to Earth. Dobbin only survives the first few paragraphs of the story, but he continues to have an influence on his colleague and friend. Dobbin believed he saw The Ghost Ship before he died, and the idea of that sticks with Willard throughout the rest of his journey aboard the Mary Lou and beyond, despite his skepticism. \n"
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I, the Unspeakable By WALT SHELDON Illustrated by LOUIS MARCHETTI [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "What's in a name?" might be very dangerous to ask in certain societies, in which sticks and stones are also a big problem! I fought to be awake. I was dreaming, but I think I must have blushed. I must have blushed in my sleep. " Do it! " she said. " Please do it! For me! " It was the voice
he wrote exactly that, in small, neat script. It was unfortunate for his curiosity that Don could not see the contents of the three envelopes that were mailed from the offices of POSAT the following week. For this time they differed. Bill Evans was once again disappointed. The pamphlet that was enclosed gave what apparently meant to be final answers to life's problems. They were couched in vaguely metaphysical terms and offered absolutely no help to him. His disappointment was tempered, however, by the knowledge that he had unexpectedly found a job. Or, rather, it had fallen into his lap.
THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN By BRYCE WALTON Illustrated by BOB HAYES [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] First one up this tallest summit in the Solar System was a rotten egg ... a very rotten egg! Bruce heard their feet on the gravel outside and got up reluctantly to open the door for them. He'd been reading some of Byron's poems he'd sneaked aboard the ship; after that he had been on the point of dozing off, and now
Wanderers of the Wolf Moon By NELSON S. BOND They were marooned on Titan, their ship wrecked, the radio smashed. Yet they had to exist, had to build a new life on a hostile world. And the man who assumed command was Gregory Malcolm, the bespectacled secretary—whose only adventures had come through the pages of a book. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1944. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Sparks snapped off the switches and followed him to the door of the radio turret. Sparks
What is POSAT? By PHYLLIS STERLING SMITH Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Of course coming events cast their shadows before, but this shadow was 400 years long! The following advertisement appeared in the July 1953 issue of several magazines: MASTERY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE CAN BE YOURS! What is the secret source of those profound principles that can solve the problems of life? Send for our FREE booklet of explanation. Do not be a
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Summarize the Fustian life cycle and culture.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Aide Memoire by Keith Laumer.
Relevant chunks:
man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications
expedition would find them. They found the truth hard to take, but they're eager to enjoy the fruits of Terran assimilation." Stryker, grinning, brought Farrell a frosted drink that tinkled invitingly. "An unusually fortunate ending to a Hymenop experiment," he said. "These people progressed normally because they've been let alone. Reorienting them will be a simple matter; they'll be properly spoiled colonists within another generation." Farrell sipped his drink appreciatively. "But I don't see why the Bees should go to such trouble to deceive these people. Why did they sit back and let them grow as they pleased, Gib? It
3000, but the Bees invaded before we could colonize. And that means we'll have to rule out any resurgent colonial group down there, because Six never had a colony in the beginning." "The Bees have been gone for over a hundred years," Stryker said. "Colonists might have migrated from another Terran-occupied planet." Gibson disagreed. "We've touched at every inhabited world in this sector, Lee, and not one surviving colony has developed space travel on its own. The Hymenops had a hundred years to condition their human slaves to ignorance of everything beyond their immediate environment—the motives behind that conditioning usually
much about them." "But how could a man alive today buy paintings from an artist of the Renaissance?" "He is not alive today. POSAT is actually what our advertisements claim—an ancient secret society. Our founder has been dead for over four centuries." "But you said that he designed your atomic reactor." "Yes. This particular one has been in use for only twenty years, however." Don's confusion was complete. Crandon looked at him kindly. "Let's start at the beginning," he said, and Don was back again in the classroom with the deep voice of Professor Crandon unfolding the pages of knowledge
doesn't make sense!" "But it does, for once," Gibson said. "The Bees set up this colony as a control unit to study the species they were invading, and they had to give their specimens a normal—if obsolete—background in order to determine their capabilities. The fact that their experiment didn't tell them what they wanted to know may have had a direct bearing on their decision to pull out." Farrell shook his head. "It's a reverse application, isn't it of the old saw about Terrans being incapable of understanding an alien culture?" "Of course," said Gibson, surprised. "It's obvious enough, surely—hard
Question:
Summarize the Fustian life cycle and culture.
Answer:
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[
"Fustians somewhat resemble gigantic, intelligent snapping turtles, and like turtles, start life as eggs. During their youth and adolescence, they are relatively agile and have no shells (unlike turtles). It is notable how many Fustian elders take a dim view of adolescents, with the Minister of Fust himself saying that the Youth should be “kept penned with the livestock until they grow a carapace to tame their irresponsibility.”\nWhen Fustians mature, they develop an enormous, horny carapace which they are obliged to carry around on their backs for the rest of their lives, which last over a thousand years. The carapaces cause the adult Fustians to be slow-moving, and they take up a lot of space – hence their public transportation consists of flat-cars instead of buses with seats. Unfortunately, not much is known by off-worlders of Fustian females.\nLike most intelligent races, Fustians enjoy music. The frequencies at which their music is played are subsonic, and therefore not audible to the human ear. Likewise, their ears are quite sensitive to high frequencies, such as those produced by tapping on a crystal glass with a spoon. This is not just unpleasant, but painful to Fustian ears.\n",
"Fustians are similar to tortoises in build, with yellow eyes, scales, and very thick hides that leak purple blood when cut. They have a much longer life-cycle than humans, as those that are 75 years of age are still considered to be teenagers or even youths. \n\nAs Faustians age, they grow larger, their voices get deeper, and they eventually acquire very heavy shells. It is past their current medical knowledge to safely remove the shells, though we find out at the end of the story that the Groaci have discovered a technique that allows them to do this. This is important because the shells slow the older Fustians down and are often considered a nuisance. When they are young, they are very secretive, and wary of strangers from other groups and species. The older Fustians do not seem to mind the humans (and aliens in general) as much, and sometimes apologize for the behavior of the younger ones. It seems that they wish they could do more to control their behavior, but the younger ones are physically much faster and can escape attempts at control. It also seems to be the case that this difference in behavior is more acute now than it has been in the past, perhaps due to social pressures from other groups. \n\nSleep is very important to them, and regular greetings in day-to-day life include well wishes for a long rest, as well as specific types of dreams. When they are angry or want to insult someone, they wish nightmares upon them. They have regular siesta times during the work day. Sleep is so important to them that they have a National Dirge called the Lament of Hatching. Ceremonial revenge is also important to them: although the older Fustians are not necessarily quick to anger, they follow through once they have been wronged. ",
"Fustians are a species turtle-like in their appearance. They have very long lives; in fact, the average age of a Fustian youth is seventy-five years old. As they age, they develop a hard-shell on their backs, which is quite heavy and hard. This causes them to move slower as they get older. The younger Fustians can move quite fast in comparison. However, the older Fustians appear to be a great deal stronger and can hold their own in combat, as demonstrated by Whonk when he defends himself against Slock’s cronies and eventually captures Slock. The elderly Fustians also grow thicker skin, which is what ultimately prevents Whonk from being decapitated when he is first attacked. Fustians have turtle-like mouths that snap when they are angry. Steel manufacturing fuels their economy. While older Fustians are generally hospitable and patient, the younger Fustians have become frustrated with the ways of the elderly Fustian leadership, and their drive to change things blinds them to being manipulated by the Groaci. Although weapons are illegal on Fust, the younger Fustians seem willing to break this rule by accepting weapons from the Groaci in exchange for their knowledge of the ships.",
"The Fustians look like turtles and have extremely long lifespans. Younger Fustians do not have a carapace, but older ones do, which can be quite heavy. Seventy-five-year-olds are considered youths, like teenagers, because they can live for about two thousand years. The 75-year-olds have a reputation as being at a trying age. As Whonk explains to Retief, the youth have a reputation for “shame” and “discourtesy.” The Elders feel that there is little they can do about the youths' misbehavior since the Elders are so much slower with their carapaces. They have no police and have never needed them until the youth became so unruly. They have a youth group, the Sexual, Cultural, and Athletic Recreational Society (SCARS), that needs a sponsor and wants someone to provide them a clubhouse, uniforms, equipment, and so forth. The Fustians’ dwellings have a fishy odor and are found along a broad cobbled street. They have a caste system; the driver of a flat car is a member of the labor caste. Their greetings relate to peaceful sleep: “Long-may-you-sleep” and “May-you-dream-of-the-deeps.” Likewise, their insults related to unpleasant sleep: “May you toss in nightmares!” The oldest Fustians are forced into retirement and given once-daily feedings; Whonk says this is nothing to look forward to for his next thousand years. They have a strong sense of right and wrong and carry out ceremonial revenge when wronged."
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man who compromised me. Two, there are not plenty of men on Fieu Dayol . Our race is identical to yours in everything except population-balance between the sexes. At periodic intervals the women on Fieu Dayol so greatly outnumber the men that those of us who are temperamentally and emotionally unfitted to become spinsters have to look for wotnids —or mates—on other worlds. It's quite legal and quite respectable. As a matter of fact, we even have schools specializing in alien cultures to expedite our activities. Our biggest problem is the Interstellar statute forbidding us the use of local communications
expedition would find them. They found the truth hard to take, but they're eager to enjoy the fruits of Terran assimilation." Stryker, grinning, brought Farrell a frosted drink that tinkled invitingly. "An unusually fortunate ending to a Hymenop experiment," he said. "These people progressed normally because they've been let alone. Reorienting them will be a simple matter; they'll be properly spoiled colonists within another generation." Farrell sipped his drink appreciatively. "But I don't see why the Bees should go to such trouble to deceive these people. Why did they sit back and let them grow as they pleased, Gib? It
3000, but the Bees invaded before we could colonize. And that means we'll have to rule out any resurgent colonial group down there, because Six never had a colony in the beginning." "The Bees have been gone for over a hundred years," Stryker said. "Colonists might have migrated from another Terran-occupied planet." Gibson disagreed. "We've touched at every inhabited world in this sector, Lee, and not one surviving colony has developed space travel on its own. The Hymenops had a hundred years to condition their human slaves to ignorance of everything beyond their immediate environment—the motives behind that conditioning usually
much about them." "But how could a man alive today buy paintings from an artist of the Renaissance?" "He is not alive today. POSAT is actually what our advertisements claim—an ancient secret society. Our founder has been dead for over four centuries." "But you said that he designed your atomic reactor." "Yes. This particular one has been in use for only twenty years, however." Don's confusion was complete. Crandon looked at him kindly. "Let's start at the beginning," he said, and Don was back again in the classroom with the deep voice of Professor Crandon unfolding the pages of knowledge
doesn't make sense!" "But it does, for once," Gibson said. "The Bees set up this colony as a control unit to study the species they were invading, and they had to give their specimens a normal—if obsolete—background in order to determine their capabilities. The fact that their experiment didn't tell them what they wanted to know may have had a direct bearing on their decision to pull out." Farrell shook his head. "It's a reverse application, isn't it of the old saw about Terrans being incapable of understanding an alien culture?" "Of course," said Gibson, surprised. "It's obvious enough, surely—hard
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Who is Whonk, and what is his relevance to the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Aide Memoire by Keith Laumer.
Relevant chunks:
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
provided the answer by alighting at the lip with a jar that shook the ship. He was breathing heavily and lugging something in his arms. The burden groaned. "Gladney!" Nurse Gray exclaimed. "I got." Rat confirmed. "Yes, Gladney. Damn heavy, Gladney." "But how?" she demanded. "What of Roberds and Peterson?" "Trick," he sniggered. "I burn down my shack. Boss run out. I run in. Very simple." He packed Gladney into the remaining hammock and snapped buckles. "And Peterson?" she prompted. "Oh yes. Peterson. So sorry about Peterson. Had to fan him." " Fan him? I don't understand." "Fan. With chair.
Get away before your body becomes a husk, a soulless husk to walk the low canals with sightless eyes, like those who came before you. He strained to push back from the edge, trying to get that fantastic beauty out of his sight. He fought the lids of his eyes, fought to close them while he pushed himself back, but they remained open, staring at the jeweled towers, and borne on the little winds the thin wail of music reached him, saying, Come into the city, come down into the fabled city . He slid over the edge, sliding down
she guiltily told herself, and it was his tremendous vitality.... It was like meeting a movie hero in the flesh, or a hero out of the pages of a book—Deer-slayer, John Clayton, Lord Greystoke. She waited in the doorway to the laboratory and made no move to join them, merely acknowledged the two with a nod and a smile and a casual lift of the hand. They nodded and smiled back. "Hello, June," said Pat and continued telling his tale, but as they passed he lightly touched her arm. "Oh, pioneer!" she said mockingly and softly to his passing profile,
Question:
Who is Whonk, and what is his relevance to the story?
Answer:
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[
"Whonk is a very old Fustian who works as a clerk at the shipyards. He meets Retief when Retief comes to to inquire about seeing plans for the new passenger liner. Whonk is neutral and correct, but not especially friendly. His partnership, and it seems fair to say, friendship with Retief really begins when Retief returns to the shipyard to look for Whonk and finds that the Fustian thugs who tried and failed to kill him, due to his thick, mature skin and shell, have left him tied up, in an undignified position on his back.\nRetief apologizes for putting him in danger, and gets the old Fustian back on his feet. Whonk is so grateful that he tells Retief, “My cows are yours,” a heartfelt, traditional Fustian expression of gratitude. \nWhonk is extremely angry about what the Fustian Slock and his gang have done to him, and throws in his lot with Retief. Thereafter, every time Retief is in physical danger from Fustians, Whonk is right there to help. \nAt the end of the story, Whonk steps in again to help Retief capture Yith, a member of the Groaci diplomatic mission, and Slock the rebel adult Fustian with no carapace. His desire for vengeance against these two nearly overwhelms his good sense. He puts Slock on the Moss Rose with the titanite that Slock had intended to use against Fustian politicians, and sets the rocket to blast off to Groaci, knowing that it would below up before it got there. \nBut Retief manages to settle him down enough not to take Yith apart piece by piece, by getting the Groaci to do something that would make Whonk’s life a lot easier and more pleasant: surgically remove his carapace. \nWhonk is steadfast, reliable, implacable – a good sidekick for Retief.\n",
"Whonk is the older Fustian who helps Retief uncover the Groacian plot. He is looking after papers when Retief asks to see the plans of the new ship being built, but is hurt by the gang members and Youths that come in after Retief leaves. He is still willing to help Retief after this, and the two of them work together to piece together their evidence. Being older means that Whonk has a very heavy shell that keeps him from moving quickly, but he is very strong--he manages to capture a number of characters throughout the story to keep them from running away. Not only is Whonk the reason Retief was able to confirm that the new ship was indeed meant to be a battle cruiser, helping to uncover the plot, but the two of them become friends and go on a fishing trip together at the end of the story.",
"Whonk is an elderly Fustian who works managing documents at the shipyard where Retief goes to investigate the new passenger ship being built there. Whonk shares the documents with Retief, who notices its similarities to a defunct ship design that had been previously used in combat. Whonk educates Retief on the rebellious ways of the younger Fustians before they witness a Groaci military attache consulting with some youth outside his office. The youth attack Whonk after Retief’s departure, nearly severing his head. When Retief returns to help him, Whonk is very grateful and continues to help Retief on his mission to discover the real connection between the Groaci and SCARS. Whonk guides Retief to the “Moss Rock” and helps Retief defeat yet another group of attacking youth. Whonk discovers that one of the youths is not a youth at all but rather an older Fustian with a detached shell. He is baffled by this. After a fracas at the sponsorship ceremony, Retief captures the Groaci attaché, and Whonk apprehends Slock, whom he quickly discovers is also an older Fustian with a surgically-removed shell. Retief convinces Whonk to forego his act of vengeance on the Groaci, and in exchange the Groaci would provide the elders of Fust with the same surgical procedure provided to the SCARS members. Pleased with this arrangement, Whonk agrees, but he is still seeking vengeance. He places Slock aboard the “Moss Rock” and sends it on a path to Groaci. The ship explodes on the way, killing Slock, and sending a message to the Groaci to stay away from Fust.",
"Whonk is an older Fustian who is very polite and helpful to Retief. He lets Retief look at the blueprints for the passenger ship that the younger Fustians are building with the Groacis and then apologizes for the rudeness of the younger Fustian who confronts Retief for looking at the plans. Whonk becomes Retief’s ally right away; he holds off the younger Fustians who come back to confront Retief, giving Retief a chance to sneak out the back door. After two younger Fustians tell Retief they want his films from his pictures of the plans, he realizes they must have gotten the information about the pictures from Whonk and knew Whonk wouldn’t have given it to them freely. When he checks on Whonk, he finds him tied up. The younger Fustians had tried to kill him. From then on, the two work together, checking the Moss Rock for explosives that have been removed from the storage area. When attackers come, Whonk protects Retief and blocks the attackers with his carapace. Whonk provides Retief with information that he needs to determine who is involved in criminal activity and what that criminal activity is. At the end of the story, he provides justice for Slock by putting him aboard the Moss Rock before it blows up so that he gets his just rewards. When everything settles, Whonk offers to take Retief on a fishing vacation."
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and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
provided the answer by alighting at the lip with a jar that shook the ship. He was breathing heavily and lugging something in his arms. The burden groaned. "Gladney!" Nurse Gray exclaimed. "I got." Rat confirmed. "Yes, Gladney. Damn heavy, Gladney." "But how?" she demanded. "What of Roberds and Peterson?" "Trick," he sniggered. "I burn down my shack. Boss run out. I run in. Very simple." He packed Gladney into the remaining hammock and snapped buckles. "And Peterson?" she prompted. "Oh yes. Peterson. So sorry about Peterson. Had to fan him." " Fan him? I don't understand." "Fan. With chair.
Get away before your body becomes a husk, a soulless husk to walk the low canals with sightless eyes, like those who came before you. He strained to push back from the edge, trying to get that fantastic beauty out of his sight. He fought the lids of his eyes, fought to close them while he pushed himself back, but they remained open, staring at the jeweled towers, and borne on the little winds the thin wail of music reached him, saying, Come into the city, come down into the fabled city . He slid over the edge, sliding down
she guiltily told herself, and it was his tremendous vitality.... It was like meeting a movie hero in the flesh, or a hero out of the pages of a book—Deer-slayer, John Clayton, Lord Greystoke. She waited in the doorway to the laboratory and made no move to join them, merely acknowledged the two with a nod and a smile and a casual lift of the hand. They nodded and smiled back. "Hello, June," said Pat and continued telling his tale, but as they passed he lightly touched her arm. "Oh, pioneer!" she said mockingly and softly to his passing profile,
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What is the setting for this story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Aide Memoire by Keith Laumer.
Relevant chunks:
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
edge, and birds as delicate as colored glass wavered down the wind. He opened the shelter door and went out. The shelter looked the same, but useless now. How did the shelter of that bleak world get into this one, where the air was warm and fragrant, where there was no cold, from that world into this one of his dreams? The girl—Helene—was standing there leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. He walked toward her, and stopped. In the dream it had been easy, but now he was embarrassed, in spite of the intimacy that had grown between them.
at his own wife and child. This day was an eighth part of his total life! He must enjoy every second of it. He must search his parents' thoughts for knowledge. Because in a few hours they'd be dead. This was so impossibly unfair. Was this all of life? In his prenatal state hadn't he dreamed of long lives, valleys not of blasted stone but green foliage and temperate clime? Yes! And if he'd dreamed then there must be truth in the visions. How could he seek and find the long life? Where? And how could he accomplish a life
it," said father. "Do not watch him, woman. It's not a good thing to watch." They turned away. All except Sim, whose eyes had caught a glint of metal far away. His heart hammered in him, and his eyes blurred. Far away, atop a low mountain, one of those metal seeds from space reflected a dazzling ripple of light! It was like one of his intra-embryo dreams fulfilled! A metal space seed, intact, undamaged, lying on a mountain! There was his future! There was his hope for survival! There was where he would go in a few days, when he
Question:
What is the setting for this story?
Answer:
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[
"The story is set entirely on the planet Fust. The native inhabitants of Fust are described as something similar to snapping turtles that walk on their hind legs, and much of the imagery used by Fustians when speaking revolves around themes of the sea and mud. Fust is a peaceful enough world that they don’t even really have much of a police force, despite the rowdy and rebellious behavior of Fustian youths. \nNot much is known about the physical characteristics of the planet, such as the proportion of sea and dry land. We know there must be oceans, because the warehouse where Wonk was tied up and left was full of bales of kelp, a sea product. The city of the story is also near a sea, whose breezes make it a bit cool at certain times of day.\nThe city where all the action takes place is an important city, perhaps the capitol. It is full of diplomatic missions from all planets, and is apparently a place of some Fustian learning and culture, given that it has musicians for hire. There is a space ship building operation right outside the city, which can be reached by public transport that consists of flat open wagons. This is practical for the unwieldy shape of the adult Fustian, if not too comfortable for a human.\nOne of the most interesting things about Fust, and the hardest for an outsider to understand, is their assorted suns and moons. Fust is lit by a blue sun called Alpha and a yellow sun known as Beta, and three moons orbit Fust. There is also a third sun, unnamed, so that there are three “noons” on Fust.\n",
"The story takes place on the planet whose native species is a turtle-like race known as the Fustians. It is usually a peaceful planet, and does not have a police force like humans are used to--in fact, weapons are currently illegal. There are at least two other species living here as well: the Terrestrials and the Groaci. More specifically, the story takes place near the coastline, with many events taking place either in political buildings or at the docks. The sea that lines this area has strong tides controlled by a number of celestial objects: there are three moons and multiple sons. The major sun is referred to as Beta, and is yellow, but there is a blue sun called Alpha as well. This has strong impacts on the weather as well: it can be very chilly while there are no suns in the sky, but very hot when the light is at its strongest. Besides the Terrestrial Embassy, its technical library, and the banquet hall, the protagonist Retief spends most of his time near the docks. At the port, he spends some time in the new ship being built where he asks Whonk to see the plans. He also does some investigation on the Moss Rock, the luxury ship where he found false evidence planted.",
"The story takes place on the planet Fust, where a chancery houses the Terrestrial Embassy where Retief works. Fust has several suns and moons that regulate the tides of the ocean nearby. The Fustians regularly nap There is a large city surrounded by shipyards, where Retief conducts the majority of his investigation into the development of the new passenger barge. When Retief meets Whonk, they pore over blueprints for the barge in Whonk’s work hut and look out the window to see the Groaci attaché consulting with the Fustian youth that had harassed them earlier. Later, a pair of youth attack Retief at the bus station, and he returns to the shipyard to inquire after Whonk. He enters the warehouse behind Whonk’s shack and finds him injured in the midst of some hay bales. From there, Whonk and Retief go to the “Moss Rock”—a ship where the Groaci barrels filled with titanite had been taken earlier—to investigate. The “Moss Rock” is a luxurious ship dimly lit and meant for VIP guests. This is where Retief begins to uncover the plot of the Groaci to implicate SCARS in the ship’s destruction. Retief then attends the sponsorship ceremony, which is held in a banquet hall with a low-ceiling. Fustian music plays, which is inaudible to the human ear. After Slock escapes the ceremony, Retief goes back to the “Moss Rock”, and this is where Whonk ultimately apprehends Slock once more.",
"The story's setting is in the future on a space world named Fust, inhabited by creatures who look similar to turtles. Fust has oceans or seas large enough for passenger ships and barges which provide fish for the Fustians. Aliens come to Fust; Magnan and Retief work at the Terrestrial Embassy; the Groacis also have members on Fust. The planet has two suns: Beta, which is yellow, and Alpha, which is blue. There are also three moons. Part of the action in the story takes place in the Terrestrial Embassy. In contrast, other parts occur in the shipyard where the passenger ship is being built, its warehouse where Whonk is hidden after he is beaten, and where the explosive had been stored, aboard the barge the Moss Rock where the explosive has been moved and where Whonk puts Slock at the end of the story, and a low-ceiling banquet hall where the dinner is being held. Magnan announces Retief’s sponsorship of SCARS.\n\n"
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mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
edge, and birds as delicate as colored glass wavered down the wind. He opened the shelter door and went out. The shelter looked the same, but useless now. How did the shelter of that bleak world get into this one, where the air was warm and fragrant, where there was no cold, from that world into this one of his dreams? The girl—Helene—was standing there leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. He walked toward her, and stopped. In the dream it had been easy, but now he was embarrassed, in spite of the intimacy that had grown between them.
at his own wife and child. This day was an eighth part of his total life! He must enjoy every second of it. He must search his parents' thoughts for knowledge. Because in a few hours they'd be dead. This was so impossibly unfair. Was this all of life? In his prenatal state hadn't he dreamed of long lives, valleys not of blasted stone but green foliage and temperate clime? Yes! And if he'd dreamed then there must be truth in the visions. How could he seek and find the long life? Where? And how could he accomplish a life
it," said father. "Do not watch him, woman. It's not a good thing to watch." They turned away. All except Sim, whose eyes had caught a glint of metal far away. His heart hammered in him, and his eyes blurred. Far away, atop a low mountain, one of those metal seeds from space reflected a dazzling ripple of light! It was like one of his intra-embryo dreams fulfilled! A metal space seed, intact, undamaged, lying on a mountain! There was his future! There was his hope for survival! There was where he would go in a few days, when he
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Aide Memoire by Keith Laumer.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"As the story opens, Ambassador Magnan briefs Councillor Retief on the Terrestrial Embassy’s request for sponsorship of youth groups on the planet Fust. Councillor Retief is not interested. Magnan specifically suggests that Retief sponsor the group SCARS (Sexual, Cultural and Athletic Recreational Society), and warns Retief that the rival Groaci may fill any void. Retief suggests researching the youth groups before giving them money. Magnan is dismissive. Retief is still not interested, and leaves to go look at plans for a new passenger liner being built by the Fustians. \nRetief takes a flat-car to the ship yard and meets Whonk, who is a shipyard clerk. He asks to see the blueprints, which he photographs. He and Whonk chat about the attitude of the youth, and Whonk blames it on their new leader, Slock, who hangs around with Yith, a member of the Groaci embassy.\nLater, while Retief is on his way home to dress for a dinner and press event organized by Magnan, two Fustian youths threaten him on the bus. Retief realizes that they were after his photos, which showed that the ship under construction was a battle cruiser, not a passenger liner. He also realizes that Whonk may be in danger. Retief escapes the youths and races back to the shipyard to find that Whonk has been dragged off and tied up in a warehouse. From the Fustian’s wounds, Retief realized that they had tried to kill him.\nRetief figures out that the Fustian youths have taken some titanite, an explosive, over to a ship called the Moss Rock, which would be full of dignitaries later. He and Whonk race over there and encounter more Fustians, and win a fight with them, effectively breaking up the Groaci-backed plot to blow up the ship. \nRetief arrives at the banquet a little late, and exchanges a few words with Magnan, who proceeds to make the Fustians miserable with his cultural insensitivity. A few minutes later, the SCARS leader, Slock, arrives. Retief reveals Slock’s plan: Slock, backed by the Groaci, was planning to take over Fust. The Groaci tried to frame the Terrestrial Embassy for the plot.\nSlock escaped. Retief went back toward the Moss Rock, where Whonk tackled Slock, and Retief accosted Yith. Whonk wanted to take revenge on Yith for attacking him earlier, but Retief instead negotiated a deal in which Yith, who had mastered removing the Fustian carapace surgically, which would be a great relief to Whonk and other elders, would agree to do so in return for not being ritually dismembered. Just as this agreement was completed, Slock tried to escape again, but Whonk dumped him on the Moss Rock, and set the autopilot for Groaci, still full of titanite. It blew up on the way there.\nMagnan wrested what he could, diplomatically speaking, from the wreckage of the youth sponsorship program and moved on to plans to sponsor Senior Citizens Groups.\n",
"This story follows Retief, a Terrestrial diplomat working on the surface of the Fustian planet, where these two species co-exist with the Groaci. At the start of the story, Retief is talking to the Terrestrial Ambassador about a new program that the Fustians are looking for sponsorship for, that the Ambassador wants Retief to take care of. Retief, the Councillor, does not seem interested, and heads out to the shipyards to ask the people there some questions about a new ship being built. An older Fustian named Whonk allows him to see the plans for the ship and tells Retief about Slock, one of the local leaders of the Youths that seems to be a bad influence. These troublesome characters showed up to talk to Whonk and scare Retief off of the docks as Retief slips out unnoticed. He finds plans in the Embassy's library for an old battle cruiser that match the plans for the new ship, pointing him towards a plot to re-introduce weapons into the society. He finds Whonk, injured from the others' attempt to extract information from him, and the two of them piece together the clues: there was titanite, a dangerous explosive, that is going to be placed on the fanciest boat at the docks, the Moss Rock. When they get to that ship to take a look, they find a variety of items emblazoned with the logo of SCARS, the Youth Group that Ambassador Magnan wanted Retief to sponsor at the beginning. Retief figures that these items are here as planted false evidence, so that the explosion would be pinned on the Youth Group, and thus the Terrestrials by extension. Retief's goal is to destroy this plot--Whonk captures a Fustian who they realize has had his shell surgically removed, something that they thought impossible. Retief takes this to mean that the Groaci have more medical knowledge than they realized, and that they are responsible for this plot. In order to expose this plan, he heads to the banquet where the sponsorship of the Youth Group is being announced. He interrupts the Ambassador's grand announcement, exposing the plot to the press that was already gathered there. He knew Slock to be a gang leader, told everyone of the plan to blow up the Moss Rock and his deal with the Groaci, and then runs toward the boat with Whonk and the Ambassador. Whonk wanted to follow through with his society's classic ceremonial revenge against Yith, the Groaci at the ship, but Retief convinces them to have a sort of trade: Yith would share the medical knowledge to remove Whonk's heavy outer shell so that it would no longer be a nuisance and a heavyweight, and Slock is thrown onto the Moss Rock as it leaves the docks and explodes. With the plot exposed, the Ambassador wants to move on to more social projects, but Retief heads out for a fishing vacation with his new friend Whonk.",
"The story begins with a meeting between Ambassador Magnan and Councillor Retief, who represents the Terrestrial Embassy on the planet Fust. The planet is populated with turtle-like creatures called Fustians (the younger Fustians lack the hard shell of the mature ones). Magnan assigns Retief the mission of sponsoring a new youth movement there called the Sexual, Cultural, Athletic Recreational Society (SCARS). Instead, Retief prefers to investigate a new passenger ship being built by the Fustians. Upon his arrival at the shipyard, Retief meets Whonk, an elderly Fustian who maintains documents, and he shows Retief the blueprints for the new ship. A young Fustian named Slock enters and arouses Retief’s suspicions by inquiring what he wants with the plans. After he leaves the shipyard, Retief is attacked by two young Fustians, and he returns to find Whonk has been attacked as well. Retief notices a stain on the ground that Whonk tells him is a remnant of four drums belonging to the Groaci—an alien species that operated a competing embassy. Retief had seen interacting a Groaci attache interacting with the youth that had attacked him earlier. The drums had been loaded onto a boat called \"Moss Rock.\" After identifying the smelly stain as an explosive called titanite, Retief and Whonk go to \"Moss Rock\" and discover a box containing a SCARS uniform. While there, they are attacked by an older-looking youth Fustian and discover that he is not a youth at all; rather, his shell has been removed by some mysterious method. They ward off another attack by his friends, and Retief decides to head to the sponsorship ceremony, realizing that the Groaci are likely taking advantage of the SCARS group's distaste for Fustian leadership to advance their plot to bomb \"Moss Rock\". At the sponsorship ceremony, Ambassador Magnan introduces Slock as guest of honor, and Retief and Whonk seize the opportunity to apprehend him and explain his deal with the Groaci to the press: The Groaci would supply weapons, and Slock would make sure they were installed on the ship. The SCARS uniforms found at the scene of the exploded ship would implicate them along with the Terrestrial Embassy, because of its sponsorship of SCARS. Magnan notes that Slock was scheduled to be on the ship, and Retief rebuts that this reveals the Groaci's intention to get rid of Slock after he'd done their bidding. Thus, the disaster at \"Moss Rock\" would cement the Groaci's control of Fust. Retief returns to the \"Moss Rock\" and captures the Groaci diplomat Yith, and Whonk captures Slock, whom they both discover has also had his shell surgically removed to appear younger. Retief makes a deal with Whonk to spare Yith's life in exchange for the same shell-removal surgery. Whonk takes his revenge on Slock by placing him back on the \"Moss Rock\" and exploding the ship with the titanite barrels on its course to Groaci. Retief informs Magnan that this display will prevent the Groaci from pursuing any further action against Fust.",
"Ambassador Magnan wants Retief, the Councillor working with him at the Terrestrial Embassy, to sponsor the Fustian youth group the Sexual, Cultural, and Athletic Recreational Society (SCARS), but Retief isn’t interested. Instead, he wants to check out the new passenger liner that the Fustians are building, but he does express concern about the Groaci’s interest in Fust, which has a steel-age manufacturing economy while Groaci is into crude atomics. At the shipyards, an old Fustian named Whonk shows him the blueprints for the new passenger liner. Retief takes photographs of the blueprints to study them later. Slock, a young Fustian, comes with a Groaci Embassy military attache and beats up on Whonk while Retief sneaks out the back.\n\nLater in the day, Retief has to attend a dinner where the sponsor for the SCARS youth group will be announced. On the way, he is accosted by two Fustain youth who tell him they want the films for the pictures he took of the blueprints. Retief manages to elude them. He has looked at pictures and realized they are plans for a replica of a battlecruiser used two hundred years ago and has gun placements. Retief realizes that Whonk must have told them about his pictures and knows that he wouldn’t tell them willingly, so he goes to Whonk’s office to look for him. He sees signs of a struggle and finds Whonk tied up behind some bales where he is out of sight. Whonk reveals he was attacked by a Groaci, Slock, and his cohorts, and they tried to kill him. Retief recognizes the smell of an explosive, and Whonk tells him drums of it have been placed on a barge called Moss Rock. \n\nRetief and Whonk decide to go back to the Embassy but are attacked by one of the young Fustians who attacked Whonk earlier that day. As they wrestle with him, they pull off his cloak to discover that his carapace has been removed, so he isn’t really a youth. Whonk is stunned because he believed it wasn’t possible to remove a carapace without killing the Fustian. \n\nAt the dinner, Magnan announces that Retief has won the “bidding” to sponsor the SCARS. Retief sneaks up on Slock and tells Magnan that he has figured out that the Groaci are planning to take over a local world and then branch out to more worlds. They have been using the young Fustians to help them set up their attack but planned to kill them after everything was ready. Retief catches a Groaci, and Whonk wants to kill him, but Retief gets him to promise to have the Groaci surgeon remove the carapaces from the older Fustians like Whonk. When Retief reports the scheme to Magnan, he tells his superior that the Moss Rock is headed for Groaci and will explode there, ending their problems with the Groaci.\n"
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
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What is the significance of Janis's character on the rest of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Plague by Teddy Keller.
Relevant chunks:
"Michael." Her voice trembled. "I—I don't know how to say this." He waited, frowning, watching her intently. "I'm—going to have a child." His face went blank. Then he stepped forward and took her by the shoulders. He saw the softness there in her face; saw her eyes bright as though the sun were shining in them; saw a flush in her cheeks, as though she had been running. And suddenly his throat was full. "No," he said thickly. "I can't believe it." "It's true." He held her for a long time, then he turned his eyes aside. "Yes, I can
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
to watching Pat Mead. She felt disloyal. Pat was only a superb animal. Max was the man she loved. Or—was he? Of course he was, she told herself angrily. They had gone colonizing together because they wanted to spend their lives together; she had never thought of marrying any other man. Yet the sense of dissatisfaction persisted, and along with it a feeling of guilt. Len Marlow, the protein tank-culture technician responsible for the mushroom steaks, had wormed his way into the group and asked Pat a question. Now he was saying, "I don't dig you, Pat. It sounds like
was wearing nothing but a loin cloth and his weapons, and the wind ruffled his hair. He looked comfortable, and they longed to take off the stuffy spacesuits and feel the wind against their own skins. Minos was like home, like Earth.... But they were strangers. "Plague," Pat Mead said thoughtfully. "We had one here. It came two years after the colony arrived and killed everyone except the Mead families. They were immune. I guess we look alike because we're all related, and that's why I grew up thinking that it is the only way people can look." Plague. "What
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
Question:
What is the significance of Janis's character on the rest of the story?
Answer:
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[
"In short, without Janis, Sergeant Andrew McCloud would not have discovered the cause of the epidemic as quickly or at all. \n\tNear the end of the story, Janis, an attractive blonde woman, enters Sergeant Andy’s office to deliver another stack of reports before him and Corporal Bettijean. The two of them had been analyzing the reports and statistics for several hours now, desperate to find a trend amongst those infected. So far, they had come up with nothing concrete, except for the types of people who were getting infected. Working people, artists, poets, newly engaged women, and small office workers were all turning up sick. Bigger offices, postal workers, doctors, dentists, and government workers were all fine. So, what’s the connection? \n\tAfter nervously delivering the reports, Janis quickly scurries out of the office and back to her desk elsewhere. Bettijean and Andy notice that the adult population in Aspen, Colorado; Taos; and Santa Fe, New Mexico is rapidly falling ill, all towns with prominent artistic industries. \n\tThey keep pouring over the reports, making new discoveries but still not coming up with any answers. Suddenly, a girl cries out from beyond his office. They hear a body fall to the floor, and they quickly rush out as the sounds of screaming emerge. Andy sends Bettijean to retrieve a doctor and a chemist, while he runs to help. Janis was lying on the floor, in pain and scared. Luckily, the virus is not contagious, so Andy and the others were able to help her. \n\tAndy interrogates her, asking detailed questions about her day and the past 12 hours. He tries to ascertain all the moments of her life, so he can pinpoint where and how she got infected. Her symptoms match up with the epidemic at hand (a fever and feeling dizzy), so Andy knows this is his best shot to find the origin. \n\tSlowly, she recounts her day and tells them all about what she did, where she was, and what she ate. She hides one thing though, which Andy quickly forces out of her. She wrote a letter to her mother, telling her about the epidemic and how scary it was. This is against regulations, as shown through Andy’s grunt of disapproval. She mailed it with her own stamps, not with a government envelope. \n\tAndy puts all the puzzle pieces together in his mind and realizes that all those people, Janis included, had one thing in common: writing letters. The poison was in the stamp. Without Janis, Andy would have struggled far longer to discover the illness and halt the production and sale of all stamps nationwide. \n\t\n",
"Janis is the first person to fall sick with the mysterious disease in the Office of Civil Health and Germ Warfare Protection. She had been one of the people delivering reports to Andy’s office, and head seemed nervous when she had entered last. She had fallen at her desk, and was shivering and horrified at what had happened. Once she was able to talk with Andy, he was able to ask her questions about her day. This was important because Andy had not yet found a connection that tied the victims of the epidemic together. He insisted that he tell her everything, and the fact that she sent a letter to her mother was the crucial fact that allowed Andy to put the story together. He was able to have Janis’ postage stamps tested for a toxin on the glued side, allowing him to finally find the root of the sickness and start the nationwide response, including giving the lab enough information to find out what was needed for a treatment. ",
"Janis is the phone operator who falls ill as they are working to solve the mystery of the pandemic. She becomes the key to unlocking the mystery as she describes her day to Andy. She informs him that she sent a letter to her mother earlier in the day. This, along with the trends that are becoming apparent in the sick populations allows Andy to deduce that licking stamp adhesive is what is making people sick.",
"Janis is the first person in McCloud’s office to become sick. First, she comes in to give him a report, and she fidgets and moves like she is nervous. Only a few minutes later, she collapses in the hallway. She is feverish and dizzy. \n\nWhen McCloud pressures her to tell him everything that she has consumed and done in the last day or so, Janis admits that she broke government regulations when she mailed a letter to her mother that detailed the epidemic. McCloud points out that she hardly let out a secret. The news of the epidemic has spread far and wide at this point. \n\nHe contemplates her story for several minutes and realizes that in order to send the letter, Janis must have licked a stamp. Janis’s illness turned out to be the essential clue. Without her explanation of the steps she took before she became sick, McCloud would not have the information he needed to solve the puzzle. \n"
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"Michael." Her voice trembled. "I—I don't know how to say this." He waited, frowning, watching her intently. "I'm—going to have a child." His face went blank. Then he stepped forward and took her by the shoulders. He saw the softness there in her face; saw her eyes bright as though the sun were shining in them; saw a flush in her cheeks, as though she had been running. And suddenly his throat was full. "No," he said thickly. "I can't believe it." "It's true." He held her for a long time, then he turned his eyes aside. "Yes, I can
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
to watching Pat Mead. She felt disloyal. Pat was only a superb animal. Max was the man she loved. Or—was he? Of course he was, she told herself angrily. They had gone colonizing together because they wanted to spend their lives together; she had never thought of marrying any other man. Yet the sense of dissatisfaction persisted, and along with it a feeling of guilt. Len Marlow, the protein tank-culture technician responsible for the mushroom steaks, had wormed his way into the group and asked Pat a question. Now he was saying, "I don't dig you, Pat. It sounds like
was wearing nothing but a loin cloth and his weapons, and the wind ruffled his hair. He looked comfortable, and they longed to take off the stuffy spacesuits and feel the wind against their own skins. Minos was like home, like Earth.... But they were strangers. "Plague," Pat Mead said thoughtfully. "We had one here. It came two years after the colony arrived and killed everyone except the Mead families. They were immune. I guess we look alike because we're all related, and that's why I grew up thinking that it is the only way people can look." Plague. "What
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
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Describe the relationship between Corporal Bettiejean and Sergeant Andy.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Plague by Teddy Keller.
Relevant chunks:
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
It would take hours to explain. However, I'll just sum it up in one word: politics. Politics, with which Rat had no connection saved him." The girl shook her head, more in sympathy than condemnation. "Are you expecting the others in soon?" she asked. "It wouldn't be right to leave Peterson." "They will be in, in a day or two. Peterson will beat it over to Base station for repairs, and to notify Earth we're coming. He'll be all right." Abruptly she stood up. "Goodnight gentlemen. Call me if I'm needed." Roberds nodded acknowledgement. The door to the side room
his tired eyes expressively. "Tasted punk," he grinned at her. She sat down on the floor suddenly and buried her face. "Rat," she said presently, "I want to ask you something, rather personal? Your ... name. 'Rat'? Roberds told me something about your record. But ... please tell me, Rat. You didn't know the attack was coming, did you?" He grinned again and waggled his head at her. "No. Who tell Rat?" Suddenly he was deadly serious as he spoke to her. "Rat a.w.o.l., go out to help sick man alone in desert. Rat leave post. Not time send call
affect you at last? Back to the torture room." "Like R-dust," Jon growled. He pressed the firing stud on the stubray gun. One of Steel-Blue's tentacles broke off and fell to the rocky sward. Steel-Blue jerked out the box he'd used once before. A tentacle danced over it. Abruptly Jon found himself standing on a pinnacle of rock. Steel-Blue had cut a swath around him 15 feet deep and five feet wide. "Back to the room," Steel-Blue commanded. Jon resheathed the stubray pistol, shrugged non-committally and leaped the trench. He walked slowly back and reentered the torture chamber. The Steel-Blues
afraid to wait until daylight. And ... well, we want you to pilot it! She refuses to risk Mr. Roberds' job. She favors you." Rat stepped back, astonished. "She?" Nurse Gray moved from the window and Rat saw the second form in the room, a slight, quiet figure on a small cot. "My patient," Nurse Gray explained. "She overheard our conversation awhile ago. Quick, please, can you?" Rat looked at her and then at the girl on the cot. He vanished from the window. Almost immediately, he was back again. "When?" he whispered. "As soon as possible. Yes. Do you
Question:
Describe the relationship between Corporal Bettiejean and Sergeant Andy.
Answer:
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[
"Sergeant Andrew McCloud is Corporal Bettijean Baker’s superior, both in rank and position at the Germ War office. They have worked together before, perhaps for the two years that Andy has been stationed there. Their relationship ranges from colleagues to lovers, sharing kisses at work or gentle shoulder touches, while still maintaining a professional atmosphere. \n\tThey begin the story extremely stressed, due to the sudden epidemic, and use their combined brain power to find the root cause of the disease. After hours of working together and defending each other to their higher-ups, they are able to identify different groups of people that have been infected, all of which are random and don’t show a clear trend. After the truth is discovered, that the disease is being spread through licking stamps, Corporal Bettijean and Sergeant Andrew are granted a 30-day vacation together, with the promises of getting to know each other better. They accept gratefully, and stare into each other’s eyes. \n\tThough their relationship may be inappropriate in the modern office, it’s clear through their constant defense of the other and dedication to the cause, that their romance is just as strong as their professional relationship. \n",
"Corporal Bettiejean and Sergeant Andy are colleagues at the Office of Civil Health and Germ Warfare Protection. When Andy is suddenly in charge as the Co-ordinator of the office, Bettiejean is his assistant. The two of them work together to comb through the reports about various aspects of infrastructure that could be responsible for the transmission of the epidemic. Part of this process involves a lot of brainstorming, and throwing ideas back and forth about what the problem could be. When their superior officers come by, and the colonel starts yelling at Andy, Bettiejean defends him and tries to make the colonel realize his rude behavior is entirely unhelpful, which is eventually escalated into an emotional discussion as her grip on Andy’s shoulder grows tighter. She supports him in other ways, too, including handing Andy a match when he tries to light a cigarette, which he does often. The two of them kept the hope for a solution in mind as they worked through more piles of reports, and when Andy develops his theory about the postage stamps being the culprit, it is Bettijean that he sends to call in their superiors. She comes into his office to check on him, and is there while Andy explains that they have a solution. Apparently their interactions have been visible to the rest of the staff in the office, as the general gives them a month of furlough after the root of the problem has been identified, teasing them a bit about the chance to get to know each other. As the story ends, they are looking into each other’s eyes longingly, ready to take the month off. ",
"Bettijean and Andy are in a professional relationship with Andy as Bettijean's superior. They are also on close personal terms with romantic overtones.\n\nAs the crisis intensifies, Andy and Bettijean work together to pour through the details of the illness. They view each other as a team although with Bettijean clearly subordinate to Andy. She follows Andy's orders but is also valued for her contribution and viewed as an equal.\n\nAs the crisis is averted, the pair are rewarded with a vacation furlough and pending promotion. The pair are only excited about the furlough and it is implied that they will spend it together as lovers. ",
"Corporal Bettlejean and Sargeant McCloud have a friendly and important relationship. Bettlejean shows her intense interest in McCloud when she checks in on him about how he’s feeling and how their colleagues are treating him. She tries her best to help Andy in his work and set him up to be successful at his job. When McCloud wants to fire back at colonel chicken for what he sees as mistreatment, Bettlejean gently reminds him to keep his composure with only a small and silent gesture. \n\nMcCloud looks at the various groups of people who have come down with the sickness and compares them to those that are fine, and he realizes that the illness is most likely caused by licking postage stamps. Bettlejean beams with pride as he makes his announcement. She is not jealous of his sharp wit and hard work. She supports his reasoning and immediately congratulates him on his brilliant idea. \n\nThroughout the story, McCloud and Bettlejean work together to solve the mystery, and they are quietly flirtatious, even in front of their coworkers. It is clear that the general has picked up on their attraction to one another when he suggests that they use their much deserved time off to get to know each other better. The two confirm that they will in fact be seeing more of each other when they hold hands at the news. \n\n"
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asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
It would take hours to explain. However, I'll just sum it up in one word: politics. Politics, with which Rat had no connection saved him." The girl shook her head, more in sympathy than condemnation. "Are you expecting the others in soon?" she asked. "It wouldn't be right to leave Peterson." "They will be in, in a day or two. Peterson will beat it over to Base station for repairs, and to notify Earth we're coming. He'll be all right." Abruptly she stood up. "Goodnight gentlemen. Call me if I'm needed." Roberds nodded acknowledgement. The door to the side room
his tired eyes expressively. "Tasted punk," he grinned at her. She sat down on the floor suddenly and buried her face. "Rat," she said presently, "I want to ask you something, rather personal? Your ... name. 'Rat'? Roberds told me something about your record. But ... please tell me, Rat. You didn't know the attack was coming, did you?" He grinned again and waggled his head at her. "No. Who tell Rat?" Suddenly he was deadly serious as he spoke to her. "Rat a.w.o.l., go out to help sick man alone in desert. Rat leave post. Not time send call
affect you at last? Back to the torture room." "Like R-dust," Jon growled. He pressed the firing stud on the stubray gun. One of Steel-Blue's tentacles broke off and fell to the rocky sward. Steel-Blue jerked out the box he'd used once before. A tentacle danced over it. Abruptly Jon found himself standing on a pinnacle of rock. Steel-Blue had cut a swath around him 15 feet deep and five feet wide. "Back to the room," Steel-Blue commanded. Jon resheathed the stubray pistol, shrugged non-committally and leaped the trench. He walked slowly back and reentered the torture chamber. The Steel-Blues
afraid to wait until daylight. And ... well, we want you to pilot it! She refuses to risk Mr. Roberds' job. She favors you." Rat stepped back, astonished. "She?" Nurse Gray moved from the window and Rat saw the second form in the room, a slight, quiet figure on a small cot. "My patient," Nurse Gray explained. "She overheard our conversation awhile ago. Quick, please, can you?" Rat looked at her and then at the girl on the cot. He vanished from the window. Almost immediately, he was back again. "When?" he whispered. "As soon as possible. Yes. Do you
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What happens to the "chicken colonel" throughout the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Plague by Teddy Keller.
Relevant chunks:
"Sure I'm drunk! Why not? If you're smart you'll get drunk, too. The whole damn lot of you!" He flicked a derisive hand toward Greg. "You too, Boy Scout! What were you trying to do—hide the bad news from them? Well, it's no use. Everybody might as well know the worst. We're gone gooses ... geeses ... aw, what the hell! Dead ducks!" He fell into a chair, sprawled there laughing mirthlessly with fear riding the too-high notes of his laughter. J. Foster turned to his secretary slowly. His ire had faded; there was only deep concern in his voice.
monthly realfood day. You go to the store, your mouth already watering in anticipation. You take your place in line and wait for your package. The distributor takes your coupon book and is all ready to reach for your package—and then he sees the fatal letters N/P. Non-Producer. A drone, a drain upon the State. You can see his stare curdle. He scowls at the book again. "Not sure this is in order. Better go to the end of the line. We'll check it later." You know what happens before the end of the line reaches the counter. No more
this is a Hymenop experiment that really paid off? The Bees did some weird and wonderful things with human guinea pigs—what if they've created the ultimate booby trap here, and primed it with conditioned myrmidons in our own form? Suppose, he thought—and derided himself for thinking it—one of those suicidal old interstellar ventures did succeed? Xavier's voice, a mellow drone from the helihopper's Ringwave-powered visicom, cut sharply into his musing. "The ship has discovered the scouter and is training an electronic beam upon it. My instruments record an electromagnetic vibration pattern of low power but rapidly varying frequency. The operation
Brotherhood?" his shelf companion wanted to know. "Trouble over a female?" Michael shook his head, smiling. "No, I have been a member of the Angeleno Brotherhood since I was an infant. My father brought me when he entered." The other man clucked sympathetically. "No doubt he was grieved over the death of your mother." Michael closed his eyes to shut out the sight of a baby protruding its fat face at him three-dimensionally, but he could not shut out its lisping voice: "Does your child refuse its food, grow wizened like a monkey? It will grow plump with oh-so-good Mealy
others. "Good morning, Mrs. Andrews ... Miss Andrews ... Mr. Breadon...." "Oh, sit down!" snapped J. Foster. "Sit down here and stop bobbing your head like a teetotum! Had your breakfast? The honey's no good; it's bitter." He glared at his sister challengingly. "Where have you been, anyway? What kind of secretary are you? Have you been up to the radio turret? How's the market today? Is Galactic up or down?" Malcolm said, "I don't know, sir." "Fine! Fine!" Andrews rattled on automatically before the words registered. Then he started, his face turning red. "Eh? What's that? Don't know! What
Question:
What happens to the "chicken colonel" throughout the story?
Answer:
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[
"From the start, the colonel does not approve of Sergeant Andrew McCloud. His gray eyes carry disapproval and irritation in them. As a member of the brass, the colonel strives for everything to be official and approved of, unlike the sergeant’s recent promotion. The replacement for the retired colonel had not yet arrived, and the chicken colonel is not thrilled. To have a noncom, defined as a noncommissioned officer, in charge of this office while in the midst of a national epidemic is ludicrous, in his eyes. \n\tDespite voicing his doubts and grievances, Sergeant Andy is allowed to continue working as the head-of-office, at least for the time being. The colonel steals away and plots his next move. \n\tSeveral hours later, he returns, this time with two officers in tow. He walks into Sergeant Andy’s office where he and Corporal Bettijean were looking through a stack of papers. With a defiant stride, the colonel tosses a newspaper onto the Sergeant’s desk. Andy reads it and quickly throws it across the room. The article tells the tale of a red plague taking over America, a possible plot from Russia, and baffled government officials. The colonel brought in the article--and possibly helped write it--to convey the seriousness of the situation, but Andy takes it as an offense instead. \n\tHis colleague, Corporal Bettijean, defends Andy and reprimands the colonel at the same time. The captain behind him scolds her in return. After Sergeant Andy recites a list of excuses for his office, the colonel tells him that his insubordination will not be allowed. He calls for his removal, as well as Corporal Bettijean's, and promotes the two officers from the surgeon general’s office to take their positions. \n\tAfter some fight, Andy relents and stands up, releasing himself of his duty. He kisses his colleague once, before she tries to fight back again. The general walks in and quickly demotes the colonel and his men to working at the switchboard, where the reader can assume they stay for the rest of the story. \n",
"Andy’s first impression of the colonel (at least in terms of this story) is of the colonel whining about Andy being in charge, insistent that only officers in combat roles should be in charge of a situation as large as a nationwide epidemic. After Andy is able to work through some reports with Bettiejean, the colonel returns to throw a newspaper on Andy’s desk to show the headlines, proving that the public panic has started. In this very tense encounter, the colonel continued to insist that Andy needed to understand the gravity of the situation, without recognizing that of course Andy knew that the issue was serious. He and a young captain overreacted to Bettiejean trying to calm the situation, citing insubordination, and the colonel tries to relieve Andy and Bettiejean of their duties before he is interrupted by a general. This general then assigns the colonel to report to Andy and Bettiejean for the remainder of the crisis, which makes the colonel even more upset. Near the end of the story, after the lab has a report about the toxin on the stamps, the colonel is already trying to take charge again. He reaches for Andy’s phone to start making calls even though Andy is the one in charge of the office, and is the point-person for the epidemic. The colonel is again put in his place by his general, and is eventually sent out of the building with the rest of the officers.",
"The chicken colonel (slang for a full colonel--an officer with an eagle as an insignia) is an individual who is preoccupied with rank and traditional military chain-of-command formality. The fact that Andy is a noncommissioned officer operating without direct commissioned officer oversight is unacceptable to him.\n\nWhile the brigadier general sees Andy's expertise and places him in charge of the investigation, the chicken colonel immediately acts to try to undermine Andy's command. He arrives with two young officers to take over the Germ Protection Division but is stopped by an even higher ranking officer--the brigadier. The chicken colonel and his subordinates are assigned to work the phones in a humiliating defeat.",
"Chicken colonel comes into McCloud’s office and demonstrates his dismay with McCloud’s handling of the crisis thus far by slamming a newspaper on the desk. When McCloud and Bettlejean dismiss his criticisms and explain that they have been awake for days, working around the clock, chicken does not bat an eye. Instead, he excuses them from their work to discipline them. \n\nHowever, he is swiftly interrupted by the general who insists that McCloud be in charge of the entire operation, regardless of his rank. He sends chicken colonel to man the phone lines with the rest of his staff. \n\nWhen McCloud announces that he believes American postage stamps have been poisoned, chicken colonel immediately picks up his phone and tries to take the lead once more. The general tells him to stop because McCloud is in charge of what the next steps are. \n\n\n\n\n\n"
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"Sure I'm drunk! Why not? If you're smart you'll get drunk, too. The whole damn lot of you!" He flicked a derisive hand toward Greg. "You too, Boy Scout! What were you trying to do—hide the bad news from them? Well, it's no use. Everybody might as well know the worst. We're gone gooses ... geeses ... aw, what the hell! Dead ducks!" He fell into a chair, sprawled there laughing mirthlessly with fear riding the too-high notes of his laughter. J. Foster turned to his secretary slowly. His ire had faded; there was only deep concern in his voice.
monthly realfood day. You go to the store, your mouth already watering in anticipation. You take your place in line and wait for your package. The distributor takes your coupon book and is all ready to reach for your package—and then he sees the fatal letters N/P. Non-Producer. A drone, a drain upon the State. You can see his stare curdle. He scowls at the book again. "Not sure this is in order. Better go to the end of the line. We'll check it later." You know what happens before the end of the line reaches the counter. No more
this is a Hymenop experiment that really paid off? The Bees did some weird and wonderful things with human guinea pigs—what if they've created the ultimate booby trap here, and primed it with conditioned myrmidons in our own form? Suppose, he thought—and derided himself for thinking it—one of those suicidal old interstellar ventures did succeed? Xavier's voice, a mellow drone from the helihopper's Ringwave-powered visicom, cut sharply into his musing. "The ship has discovered the scouter and is training an electronic beam upon it. My instruments record an electromagnetic vibration pattern of low power but rapidly varying frequency. The operation
Brotherhood?" his shelf companion wanted to know. "Trouble over a female?" Michael shook his head, smiling. "No, I have been a member of the Angeleno Brotherhood since I was an infant. My father brought me when he entered." The other man clucked sympathetically. "No doubt he was grieved over the death of your mother." Michael closed his eyes to shut out the sight of a baby protruding its fat face at him three-dimensionally, but he could not shut out its lisping voice: "Does your child refuse its food, grow wizened like a monkey? It will grow plump with oh-so-good Mealy
others. "Good morning, Mrs. Andrews ... Miss Andrews ... Mr. Breadon...." "Oh, sit down!" snapped J. Foster. "Sit down here and stop bobbing your head like a teetotum! Had your breakfast? The honey's no good; it's bitter." He glared at his sister challengingly. "Where have you been, anyway? What kind of secretary are you? Have you been up to the radio turret? How's the market today? Is Galactic up or down?" Malcolm said, "I don't know, sir." "Fine! Fine!" Andrews rattled on automatically before the words registered. Then he started, his face turning red. "Eh? What's that? Don't know! What
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What happens to Sergeant Andy McCloud throughout the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Plague by Teddy Keller.
Relevant chunks:
the cadets for endurance in such artificial conditions. “Describe some of the things you see, Marshall,” General Forsythe said over Marsh’s helmet receiver. “I’ve just cut in a recorder.” “It’s a scene almost beyond description, sir,” Marsh said into the helmet mike. “The sky is thickly powdered with stars. The Milky Way is very distinct, and I can make out lots of fuzzy spots that must be star clusters and nebulae and comets. Mars is like an extremely bright taillight, and the moon is so strong it hurts my eyes as much as the direct sun does on earth.” Marsh
that portion of the structure which housed Sparks' radio turret. And the shooting? That could only be— He did not have to name its reason, even to himself. For at that moment, there came racing around the curve of the Dome a pair of figures, Patrolmen clad in fatigue drab. Roberts and Brown. Roberts was staggering, one foot dragged awkwardly as he ran; Brown's left arm, bloodstained from shoulder to elbow, hung limply at his side, but in his good right fist he held a spitting Haemholtz with which he tried to cover his comrade's sluggish retreat. And behind these
Tea Tray in the Sky By EVELYN E. SMITH Illustrated by ASHMAN [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Visiting a society is tougher than being born into it. A 40 credit tour is no substitute! The picture changed on the illuminated panel that filled the forward end of the shelf on which Michael lay. A haggard blonde woman sprawled apathetically in a chair. "Rundown, nervous, hypertensive?" inquired a mellifluous voice. "In need of mental therapy? Buy Grugis juice;
two, grim, grey, gaunt figures that moved with astonishing speed despite their massive bulk, came three ... six ... a dozen of those lunarites whom all men feared. The Grannies! III Simultaneously with his recognition of the pair, Joe Roberts saw him. A gasp of relief escaped the wounded man. "Jones! Thank the Lord! Then you picked up our cry for help? Quick, man—where is it? Theres not a moment to waste!" "W-where," faltered Isobar feebly, "is what ?" "The tank, of course! Didn't you hear our telecast? We can't possibly make it back to the gate without an armored
right away. He knew every cop in Pikeville. A man couldn't own a store, operate a business in a small town for twenty-five years without getting to know all the cops. They weren't cops—and there hadn't been any explanation. Potter, Fergusson, Jenkins, none of them knew why it was there. They didn't know—and they didn't care. That was the strange part. Loyce ducked into a hardware store. He raced toward the back, past the startled clerks and customers, into the shipping room and through the back door. He tripped over a garbage can and ran up a flight of concrete
Question:
What happens to Sergeant Andy McCloud throughout the story?
Answer:
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[
"Ten days prior to the epidemic, Colonel Patterson retired. He was Sergeant Andy McCloud’s superior, and his replacement has yet to show up. Andy theorizes that the replacement for the lieutenant got caught up in all the red tape, but, at the end of the day, the newly-coined Germ War Protection needed a leader. And Andy was stepping up to the job. \n\tHe had worked at the Office of the Civil Health and Germ Warfare Protection Coordinator for two years prior to the epidemic. He knew the ins and outs of the place, so, despite being a noncom, he was truly the best for the job. \n\tOne of his colleagues, Corporal Bettijean Baker, had picked up the phone two days prior, and suddenly their whole words changed. An epidemic was sweeping the nation, infecting random people left and right with no underlying cause or trend, and, despite the absence of fatalities, panic was ensuing. Though some of the officers disapprove of Andy’s noncom position, he continues working tirelessly with his colleagues to try and figure out the cause of this terrifying disease. \n\tHe and Corporal Bettijean Baker brainstorm throughout the story, desperately searching for a trend or place of infection. They realize that artists, poets, college students, and workers are the ones being infected; not necessarily doctors, dentists, and government employees. They try to figure out what activities each group does that could possibly have been the cause of their infection. They quickly rule out the disease traveling through water, wind, and food. And, later on, it’s revealed that the disease is not contagious. Bettijean and Andy put their heads together and think. \n\tTheir time spent together brainstorming was also filled with flirtatious moments. Andy, with his freckles and messy hair, and Bettijean with her jet-black hair, share a kiss or two throughout the story. \n\tAfter exhausting themselves, Andy orders all the girls to redirect all calls to go out, not in. They are to focus on hospitals and relief crews, to discover more on who the virus is infecting. He and Bettijean are almost fired by the disgruntled colonel, who came with two replacements. Thankfully, just as Andy kisses Bettijean, the general walks in and dismisses the colonel. He reinstates Andy and Bettijean to their former and rightful positions, before telling them that the Iron Curtain has gone silent, except for one coded message from two days before, possibly hinting at the epidemic. \n\tAfter the brass left, Bettijean and Andy brainstormed some more, looking through new reports brought in by Janis, a colleague. Janis soon collapses, and it is revealed that she’s been infected. Andy questions her and soon discovers the transmitter of the virus. Stamps! He relates the news to his higher-ups, and rejoices with Bettijean. They are given a 30-day furloughed vacation together, leaving the reader with a future of romance and hope. \n",
"Sergeant Andy McCloud was the highest-ranking officer in the Office of Civil Health and Germ Warfare protection when the retired Co-ordinator’s replacement didn’t show up, so he found himself in charge of the office just as a nationwide epidemic was surging. He is berated by some of his superior officers who couldn’t fathom the idea of an officer not in a combat role being in charge of such a large issue, but pushed through and continued trying to work on a solution. He goes through piles of reports with Corporal Bettijean Baker, his assistant, trying to find something that connects the victims. The two of them work through a variety of emotions, including frustration, exhaustion, confusion, and exasperation. When the colonel comes back into Andy’s office to yell more about the severity of the situation that he doesn’t seem to think Andy is the right person to handle, Andy acknowledges him curtly, which makes the colonel relieve Andy of his duties. This whole time, Bettiejean is standing with him, gripping his shoulder in his defense. The threat doesn’t stick, even though Andy was somewhat relieved to have a chance to sleep, as a captain walks in and tells him to continue working. The captain tells the colonel that he and his captains have to report to Andy for the remainder of the crisis. During each of these interactions with superior officers, Andy relies on smoking a cigarette to find some focus, and tries to listen to the captain’s report about possible influence from the Soviet Union. He is upset, and in his exhaustion, loses hope for a moment as the general asks him what Andy can do about the situation, but then finds the courage to stand up and say that he’ll get the job done as long as people work with him on it. He worked through more reports with Bettijean until they were interrupted by a scream as Janis, one of the office workers, fell sick at her desk. Andy called for a doctor and a chemist, asked Janis everything that had happened to her that day, and pondered over the new evidence over another cigarette. He has an epiphany, frantically looks for Janis’ book of stamps in her purse, and sends a stamp with a lab technician. His hunch was right: the toxin that spreads the disease is on the adhesive side of the stamps. As he works on a response plan with the general, he calls out a few orders and then defers to the general to make the rest of the decisions in his exhaustion. The general then offers Andy and Bettiejean a month of furlough so that they can spend time with one another, and they look into each other’s eyes excited to explore their connection. ",
"Andy begins the story as a non-commissioned officer running the Germ Warfare Protection division during a crisis. He was never assigned a commanding officer after his previous colonel's retirement 10 days prior. As a result he continually has to defend his standing and prove that he is the right individual to solve the mystery of the illness.\n\nHe works doggedly to try and establish a pattern or trend for the illness and calls tirelessly every hospital in the country until his hand cramps from writing and his voice verges on giving out.\n\nHe has to navigate an attempted takeover by the chicken colonel and his young officers. Eventually he pieces the mystery together by speaking to Janis, a phone operator who falls ill after licking a stamp. Finally he provides his recommendation on how to stop the illness and is rewarded with a long vacation and promotion.\n\n",
"Andy has been working at the Office of the Civil Health and Germ Warfare Protection for two years when all hell breaks loose. He is put in charge of finding out how the new American plague is spreading, and he is deeply stressed. Chicken colonel attempts to discipline him for insubordination, but the two star general shoots down that idea and asks McCloud to keep working the case with everything he’s got.\n\nMcCloud and Bettlejean look through reports and gather that the disease is not communicable, and it is not only affecting people of a certain class or geographical area. The only clues that they can piece together are that the illness is affecting people who work in small offices rather than large buildings. They also recognize that artists and poets are becoming sick when doctors and dentists are not. \n\nMcCloud’s subordinate, a woman named Janis, suddenly becomes ill. After he questions her about her day and activities, he realizes that the culprit behind the outbreak must be postage stamps. He locates one of the stamps that Janis had in her work desk and sends it to be tested in the lab. \n\nWhen his boss, the general, comes in to hear about McCloud’s findings, he says with confidence that the postage stamps are behind the epidemic. When the lab confirms his suspicions, he is hailed as the hero. The general gives him time off to relax and recuperate from this entire ordeal, and he suggests that McCloud spend some of that time with Bettlejean. McCloud is so excited to get some alone time with his coworker that he barely hears the general detail the awards and accolades that McCloud will receive for his job well done. \n\n"
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the cadets for endurance in such artificial conditions. “Describe some of the things you see, Marshall,” General Forsythe said over Marsh’s helmet receiver. “I’ve just cut in a recorder.” “It’s a scene almost beyond description, sir,” Marsh said into the helmet mike. “The sky is thickly powdered with stars. The Milky Way is very distinct, and I can make out lots of fuzzy spots that must be star clusters and nebulae and comets. Mars is like an extremely bright taillight, and the moon is so strong it hurts my eyes as much as the direct sun does on earth.” Marsh
that portion of the structure which housed Sparks' radio turret. And the shooting? That could only be— He did not have to name its reason, even to himself. For at that moment, there came racing around the curve of the Dome a pair of figures, Patrolmen clad in fatigue drab. Roberts and Brown. Roberts was staggering, one foot dragged awkwardly as he ran; Brown's left arm, bloodstained from shoulder to elbow, hung limply at his side, but in his good right fist he held a spitting Haemholtz with which he tried to cover his comrade's sluggish retreat. And behind these
Tea Tray in the Sky By EVELYN E. SMITH Illustrated by ASHMAN [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Visiting a society is tougher than being born into it. A 40 credit tour is no substitute! The picture changed on the illuminated panel that filled the forward end of the shelf on which Michael lay. A haggard blonde woman sprawled apathetically in a chair. "Rundown, nervous, hypertensive?" inquired a mellifluous voice. "In need of mental therapy? Buy Grugis juice;
two, grim, grey, gaunt figures that moved with astonishing speed despite their massive bulk, came three ... six ... a dozen of those lunarites whom all men feared. The Grannies! III Simultaneously with his recognition of the pair, Joe Roberts saw him. A gasp of relief escaped the wounded man. "Jones! Thank the Lord! Then you picked up our cry for help? Quick, man—where is it? Theres not a moment to waste!" "W-where," faltered Isobar feebly, "is what ?" "The tank, of course! Didn't you hear our telecast? We can't possibly make it back to the gate without an armored
right away. He knew every cop in Pikeville. A man couldn't own a store, operate a business in a small town for twenty-five years without getting to know all the cops. They weren't cops—and there hadn't been any explanation. Potter, Fergusson, Jenkins, none of them knew why it was there. They didn't know—and they didn't care. That was the strange part. Loyce ducked into a hardware store. He raced toward the back, past the startled clerks and customers, into the shipping room and through the back door. He tripped over a garbage can and ran up a flight of concrete
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Describe the dynamic between Herbert and his wife
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about A BOTTLE OF Old Wine by Richard O. Lewis.
Relevant chunks:
the cabinet door closing brought Jack back to reality. He realized that he no longer had the photograph. Against the gloom by the cabinet, Mrs. Kesserich's white face looked at him with what seemed a malicious eagerness. "Sit down," she said, "and I'll tell you about it." Without a thought as to why she hadn't asked him a single question—he was much too dazed for that—he obeyed. Mrs. Kesserich resumed her position on the edge of the sofa. "You must understand, Mr. Barr, that Mary Alice Pope was the one love of Martin's life. He is a man of very
know Martin, but year by year, month by month. This winter, he'd plan, they would visit Buenos Aires, next summer they would sail down the inland passage and he would teach Mary Hungarian for their trip to Buda-Pesth the year after, where he would occupy a chair at the university for a few months ... and so on. Finally the time for their marriage drew near. Martin had been away. His research was keeping him very busy—" Jack broke in with, "Wasn't that about the time he did his definitive work on growth and fertilization?" Mrs. Kesserich nodded with solemn
PRIME DIFFERENCE By ALAN E. NOURSE Illustrated by SCHOENHEER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Being two men rolled out of one would solve my problems—but which one would I be? I suppose that every guy reaches a point once in his lifetime when he gets one hundred and forty per cent fed up with his wife. Understand now—I've got nothing against marriage or any thing like that. Marriage is great. It's a good old red-blooded American Institution.
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
fist at him. Then he turned and gratefully followed the dark, wide, fanlike sterns and age-yellowed sails. II The exterior of Martin Kesserich's home—a weathered white cube with narrow, sharp-paned windows, topped by a cupola—was nothing like its lavish interior. In much the same way, Mrs. Kesserich clashed with the darkly gleaming furniture, persian rugs and bronze vases around her. Her shapeless black form, poised awkwardly on the edge of a huge sofa, made Jack think of a cow that had strayed into the drawing room. He wondered again how a man like Kesserich had come to marry such a
Question:
Describe the dynamic between Herbert and his wife
Answer:
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[
"The relationship Herbert and his wife have seems to have an infantilizing or patronizing tone to it. His wife seems to be fairly cold towards him, at least from the way she interacts with his death in the last scene of the story, but Herbert is harboring a large amount of hate and anger. A lot of this dynamic is driven by the control of money in the household, as Herbert's wife is in charge of these decisions, and Herbert does not agree with her on how much money he should have access to. His anger increases as he works on a plan to get away from her, as he spends what little he has to maintain access to the Riverside Club, paying rent on a cabin, buying a teleporter suit, and similar expenses. He is finally pushed to make the choice to finally want to kill her when he finds he does not have the spending money to be able to buy nice drinks or private rooms for himself and the woman he meets at the club, who turns out to be his wife. ",
"Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Hyrel have a constant struggle for power within their domestic relationship. Mrs. Hyrel’s family wealth insults Herbert, seeing as he has none. When she comes to the realization that he may only be with her because of her money, she starts to hide it from him and only gives him a monthly allowance. At that moment, Mrs. Hyrel took control and took most of Herbert’s power away from him. \nIt’s clear that Hyrel wants to be the man of the relationship or the one that wears the pants. So this action made him feel weak and unimportant. This further aggravated their marriage and led to a build-up of long-term resentment. \nMrs. Hyrel practically ignores Herbert, spending her evenings watching the televois. She doesn’t want to be bothered during this time either, since it would ruin the show. It’s later revealed that she also has a teleporter suit, so she may have been in the Riverside Club in other instances, not just watching the televois. This power struggle and wealth inequity led to Herbert’s murderous fantasies and his eventual murder. \n",
"The story never shows the Hyrels communicating outside of their shadowy selves; this emphasizes their dysfunction as a couple and highlights their mutual disdain. Herbert thinks his wife hates him because she believes he married her for her money, and he lives off the allowances she gives him. In turn, Herbert feels emasculated, and blames this on her, despite the fact that he does nothing but take her money and use it to attempt to seduce women at the Riverside Club. Herbert compares the thought of killing his wife to a bottle of old wine; the longer one marvels at a nice, expensive bottle of wine, the better it tastes when one finally drinks it. In the same way, he relishes his scheme, almost becoming intoxicated by it. When Herbert reunites with the woman at the Riverside Club, he cannot stop worrying that his wife will remove her telovis and discover him, and he continuously obsesses over his plan with increasing urgency. Herbert is so blinded by his rage and insecurities, that he fails to realize the woman is actually Mrs. Hyrel in disguise. ",
"The Hyrels have an unhappy marriage. In the evenings, they escape from each other, Mrs. Hyrel to her telovis shows and he to the Riverside Club. Herbert first resented Mrs. Hyrel’s hours-long escape each night that left him lonely in the evenings, but then he gets his teleporter suit and can’t wait for her to get wrapped up in her shows so that he can escape to the club. His resentment of his wife grew into hatred. Herbert does not have money of his own; his wife has money and gives him a “paltry” allowance as if he were a child. She seems to resent him, too, because he thinks she feels like she got a bad deal in marrying him and that she was trapped into marrying him without knowing what he was really like. Herbert has been thinking of killing his wife for some time, but he doesn’t want to do it right away because thinking about it is like the anticipation of enjoying an old bottle of wine. As long as the bottle is there, he can enjoy the hope of drinking it just as he can enjoy the hope of killing his wife. Even in her altered identity as the can-can dancer at the club, Mrs. Hyrel treats Herbert as inferior. She refuses to let him take her outside until he has bought her a glass of champagne; then she makes him wait a long time while she sips it. When he finally does take her outside, she refuses to do what he wants unless he can show her he has the money for a private room and to entertain her properly. Mrs. Hyrel knows that this will frustrate him even more and probably suspected that he wanted to kill her. In any case, she has planned to kill him because she brought her gun with her. When he states that he will kill his wife to have the money to entertain the girl, Mrs. Hyrel promptly shoots him. Her plan is well-thought-out because she has a hidden back to her medicine cabinet where she hides her teleporter suit before the police come. This hidden compartment has allowed her to keep her visits to the Riverside Club from Herbert and will prevent the police from suspecting her role in Herbert’s death.\n\n"
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the cabinet door closing brought Jack back to reality. He realized that he no longer had the photograph. Against the gloom by the cabinet, Mrs. Kesserich's white face looked at him with what seemed a malicious eagerness. "Sit down," she said, "and I'll tell you about it." Without a thought as to why she hadn't asked him a single question—he was much too dazed for that—he obeyed. Mrs. Kesserich resumed her position on the edge of the sofa. "You must understand, Mr. Barr, that Mary Alice Pope was the one love of Martin's life. He is a man of very
know Martin, but year by year, month by month. This winter, he'd plan, they would visit Buenos Aires, next summer they would sail down the inland passage and he would teach Mary Hungarian for their trip to Buda-Pesth the year after, where he would occupy a chair at the university for a few months ... and so on. Finally the time for their marriage drew near. Martin had been away. His research was keeping him very busy—" Jack broke in with, "Wasn't that about the time he did his definitive work on growth and fertilization?" Mrs. Kesserich nodded with solemn
PRIME DIFFERENCE By ALAN E. NOURSE Illustrated by SCHOENHEER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Being two men rolled out of one would solve my problems—but which one would I be? I suppose that every guy reaches a point once in his lifetime when he gets one hundred and forty per cent fed up with his wife. Understand now—I've got nothing against marriage or any thing like that. Marriage is great. It's a good old red-blooded American Institution.
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
fist at him. Then he turned and gratefully followed the dark, wide, fanlike sterns and age-yellowed sails. II The exterior of Martin Kesserich's home—a weathered white cube with narrow, sharp-paned windows, topped by a cupola—was nothing like its lavish interior. In much the same way, Mrs. Kesserich clashed with the darkly gleaming furniture, persian rugs and bronze vases around her. Her shapeless black form, poised awkwardly on the edge of a huge sofa, made Jack think of a cow that had strayed into the drawing room. He wondered again how a man like Kesserich had come to marry such a
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about A BOTTLE OF Old Wine by Richard O. Lewis.
Relevant chunks:
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"The story begins in a living room where a husband and wife sit in their respective chairs, the wife wearing a headset called a telovis. The husband, Herbert Hyrel, figures she is watching a sex-opera as her escapist entertainment of choice, and waits a few minutes to start his own entertainment. As we waits, he considers his anger towards his wife: he no longer resented the time she spent not talking to him, while utilizing her telovis, but he did hate that she controlled the purse-strings in the household and gave him a small allowance. His anger had been pent up for some time, enough that he wanted to kill his wife, but for now he was satisfied with the idea of killing her. Once enough time had passed, he flicked a switch on the teleporter suit he was wearing and a version of his body appeared in a cabin in the woods that he was renting, where he had left himself a fresh outfit. He headed to the Riverside Club where he hoped to encounter a woman he had met recently, and when he got there he sat down and drank some cheap whiskey. He encountered a costumed woman who teased him, pulled away to dance with someone else, but came back to dance with him once the man she was with disappeared. This man had flipped the switch on his suit, disappearing and leaving behind a pile of clothes, presumably because he would have been discovered wherever his original body was. As Herbert danced and moved outside, he spotted the woman he had been looking for, wearing a suggestive costume and a platinum wig, her body and her purse all covered in jewels. She asked him for champagne, which he was upset about because he did not have much money, but he obliged and tried to move the night forward after he had had something to drink. Again, though, she requested he spend more money on her--this time, for a private room at the club so they did not have to be outside. She said she was asking him to prove to her that she could be spoiled, but this pressure reminded him how angry he was that he had to spend the little money he had trying to escape from his wife, budgeting in a way that limited his nights out just to have some privacy. He started yelling about how he would have more money soon, and eventually admitted that he would kill his wife to get it. Hearing this, the woman he was with pulled a gun out of her purse and shot him--it was his wife all along. The scene jumps back to the house, where the wife pulls off her telovis set, smugly turns off her husband's teleporter suit, and watches him gasp for air and die. She called the police to call for a doctor, hid her own teleporter suit, and waited for the police to show.",
"Herbert Hyrel finds himself in a loveless and difficult marriage. His wife has withdrawn herself, sticking to her televois or 3-D TV, and only gives him a monthly allowance. Her generational wealth makes him feel emasculated and weak, which only strengthens his hatred for her. Hyrel has recently invested in a teleporter suit, one that took him six months of saving to put the down payment on. This suit allows him to leave his corporeal body and travel to a shadow realm, where his conscious spirit can roam free. He uses this to drink, party, meet women, and escape from his wife and true reality. \nHe’s looking forward to traveling again, because of the woman he met last time in the flapper outfit. He hopes that this night will be the night she gives herself to him. After soaking in the wonderful thoughts of murdering his wife--which he plans to do as soon as the thought no longer brings him joy--Hyrel flicks the switch on his teleporter suit and arrives naked in a small cabin. Quickly, he changes into his cheap satin suit and makes his way to Riverside Club by taking the bus and walking. Once there, he orders a bottle of cheap whiskey, thanks to his depleting funds, and watches the masked dancers around him. A woman in a Persian-themed costume kisses him on the cheek but leaves him for another man. That man suddenly disappears, leaving only his costume behind. Hyrel reveals that those who get hurt in the shadow realm carry the hurt back with them in the real world. For example, he cut his hand in Riverside Club, and the pain traveled with him, but not the scar. \nThe Persian dancer joins him again, and they start to leave the club. He’s drawn to another woman the same from the night before. He swaps ladies and dances with her instead. She asks for champagne, which he reluctantly purchases. \nThey drink, and then he forces her out of the club. Feeling less-than, he forces himself on her, trying to kiss and grope her. She keeps asking him if he has enough money for her, where his private room is, and if he’ll be coming back soon. This only emasculates him more and he soon explodes, telling her that he’s going to kill his wife so he can finally have her money and do what he wants. \nThe flapper pulls out a gun and shoots him in the head and brain. She flicks the switch, and Mrs. Hyrel wakes up in her chair. She flicks the switch on Herbert, and he comes back in a vegetative state since his body brought back the pain, but not the scar. She calls the police, alibi in check, then removes and hides her teleporter suit. She puts on a pair of blue pajamas then meets the police at the door. \n",
"Herbert Hyrel is a man in an unhappy marriage who plots to murder his wife in order to be rid of her and inherit her money. Herbert despises the way his wife looks at him, and he imagines her denigrating him as a gold-digger with nothing to offer a woman, so he privately purchases a telporter suit--a thin, mesh body cover that can be worn under one's clothes and is used to transport the wearer's \"shadowy self\" to a receiver previously set in secret. While he believes his wife is watching a sex-opera using her telovis (a 3-D imaging device), Herbert engages the telporter and transports himself to a cabin situated between a highway and a river. There, he changes clothes and walks to the Riverside Club (a place where owners of telporter suits can gather to escape their dreary outer lives) where he plans to meet a girl he had met the previous night. Because telporting oneself is illegal, rooms at the club are very expensive in order to cover the costs of police protection and Herbert cannot afford a private room there with the allowance his wife gives him. The club is colorful and full of costumed, masked partyers, dancing together and drinking champagne. Herbert purchases a bottle of whiskey because he cannot afford the expensive champagne. As Herbert drinks, he becomes more relaxed and confident, and he watches a woman dressed in a Persian costume dancing with a man dressed as a bullfighter. Soon after, the bullfighter disappears, and Herbert is reminded that sometimes people at the club vanish suddenly when there is a threat they will be discovered in their outer lives. He also notices a scar on his hand and is reminded that when someone's shadow self is injured, their outer husk retains the feeling of pain but not the scar. Herbert dances with the Persian-costumed woman and becomes steadily more intoxicated by drink and by the atmosphere of revelry. Eventually, he finds the girl he had met the night before, recognizing her by her long, stockinged legs. She wears a platinum wig, a white mask, and green contact lenses, and they dance together and kiss. The drunker Herbert becomes, the more insecure he feels about his ability to satisfy the woman, and he begins lashing out at her, accidentally revealing his plans to kill his wife in order to take her money so he can start a new life with the mysterious woman. The woman laughs at him, and she withdraws a gun from her purse and shoots Herbert twice--once in the heart and then in the head. The woman is actually Mrs. Herbert Hyrel, and she has been using her own telporter suit to expose Herbert and dispose of him herself. Because Herbert’s gunshot wounds do not transfer with his shadowy self back to his outer body, it appears as if Herbert simply died. Mrs. Herbert Hyrel calls the police, hides the telporter suits, and awaits their arrival.",
"Herbert Hyrel and his wife have an unhappy marriage. Herbert hates his wife and feels as if she thinks she is better than he is. She has money but only gives him a small allowance, and he resents her for this. She isn’t fond of him either. Every night, she puts on her telovis for about three hours. Herbert thinks she is watching black-market sex-operas. Once she is caught up in the program, he uses his teleporter suit to escape to the Riverside Club. This is an exclusive club for people with teleporter suits, money, and a desire for self-abandonment. People go there to escape their boring, unpleasant lives and wear costumes to hide their identities while they engage in drunken, sexually-abandoned activities. Herbert has met a girl there and wants to see her again. He looks for her when he first arrives but doesn’t see her, so he is interested in a Persian dancing girl who flirts with him. She is with a man dressed as a toreador. Herbert catches a glimpse of the scar on his hand where he had cut it at the club three weeks ago. In his unteleported body, he feels the pain of the cut but has no cut. \n\tLater in the evening, the toreador disappears from the dance floor, leaving behind a pool of his clothes. This means that he had to teleport back to his real life immediately; it is something that has happened many times at the club. Emboldened by his whiskey, Herbert moves in and embraces the Persian dancing girl. He draws her toward the exit to the gardens when he sees a long leg wearing a black mesh stocking protruding from a private booth. That is what the girl from the previous evening was wearing. He pulls the stockinged girl from the booth and dances with her. The stockinged girl is wearing a can-can dancer costume. She insists on having a glass of champagne before Herbert takes her outside. While she drinks, he worries that he won’t be able to see her again until he gets his next allowance in two weeks and that she will find someone else in the meantime. He decides that he is going to kill his wife so he can have her money. When he tries to take the girl outside, she resists. She lets him know she wants him to have the money for a private room, show her a good time, and come see her often. He tells her he’ll have plenty of money after tonight and that he will kill his wife to get it. The dancer pulls a gun from her purse and shoots him. \n\tMrs. Hyrel removes her telovis and pushes Herbert’s teleport button to bring him back. His eyes open, and then he dies. She calls the police, saying something horrible has happened to her husband. Then she changes clothes, removing her teleporter suit, and hiding it behind a hidden door at the back of the medicine cabinet.\n"
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"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
|
Who is Herbert's wife and what is her role in the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about A BOTTLE OF Old Wine by Richard O. Lewis.
Relevant chunks:
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
an education in the law, a short spell as Senator FitzMaugham's private secretary, followed last month by his sudden elevation to assistant administrator of the newly-created Popeek Bureau. For Fred, medicine, unsuccessful private practice, finally a job in the Happysleep section of Popeek, thanks to Roy.
was form and technique, and you got the Melling Prize. Now it's message, political content that counts. That's not poetry, Mr. Prior—and there are still a few of us who recognize what poetry is. Take Yeats, for instance—" Walton was ready to launch into a discussion of every poet from Prior back to Surrey and Wyatt; anything to keep from the job at hand, anything to keep his mind from Popeek. But Prior interrupted him. "Mr. Walton...." "Yes?" "My son Philip ... he's two weeks old now...." Walton understood. "No, Prior. Please don't ask." Walton's skin felt cold; his hands,
Walton," a white-smocked technician said. Popeek employed a small army of technicians, each one faceless and without personality, but always ready to serve. "Is there anything I can do?" "I'm simply running a routine checkup. Mind if I use the machine?" "Not at all, sir. Go right ahead." Walton grinned lightly and stepped forward. The technician practically backed out of his presence. No doubt I must radiate charisma , he thought. Within the building he wore a sort of luminous halo, by virtue of being Director FitzMaugham's protégé and second-in-command. Outside, in the colder reality of the crowded metropolis, he
... and life. "Hello, Mr. Walton. What brings you down here?" Walton smiled affably. "Just a routine investigation, Doctor. I try to keep in touch with every department we have, you know." "Mr. FitzMaugham was down here to look around a little while ago. We're really getting a going-over today, Mr. Walton!" "Umm. Yes." Walton didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd have to rely on the old man's abiding faith in his protégé to pull him out of any possible stickiness that arose. "Seen my brother around?" he asked. "Fred? He's working in
Question:
Who is Herbert's wife and what is her role in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Herbert's wife controls the financial affairs in their household. She is a fan of her telovis set, her preferred medium for escapist entertainment, and Herbert is under the impression that she likes to watch sex-operas, which are a longer experience that rely on emotional build-up. She makes most of the money but also controls it all, which Herbert resents her for--he thinks she is keeping it from him, and feels looked down upon when she gives him his allowance. This infantilizing attitude makes him extremely angry. She is devious and cunning, and hatches a plan to catch him in his act. It is her, after all, that drove him to want to escape. Either to confirm suspicions of a murder plot or to disrupt his own escapist time, she has her own teleporter suit that she uses to position herself to seduce her husband in the one place he figured he would be free from her. She dresses up covered in jewels and insists that he spend money on her to pressure him to admitting that he has none, which eventually pushes him to admit his plan. She kills him once she hears this, and calmly puts everything back in order as she reports something being wrong with her husband to the police, clearly not upset that her husband is dead. ",
"Mrs. Herbert Hyrel is the daughter of a wealthy family. Although she and Herbert most likely originally married for love, their relationship quickly spiraled out of control and soon their disparity in wealth became a pressing issue. \nMrs. Hyrel withdrew herself from her husband once she felt that he was only with her for her money. She allotted him a monthly allowance, but that was all. Since Herbert was not the breadwinner, he felt emasculated and out of control in his own home. She is the instigator for his violent fantasies of killing her, and the woman that draws him back to Riverside Club. \nHer jewel-studded flapper dress that reveals her legs reveals her wealth and status at the Riverside Club. She wears green contacts and a platinum wig to further disguise herself from Herbert. Despite being married, he fails to recognize her, and, after tempting him and berating him, he reveals to her his plans to murder his wife. She then murders him in the shadow realm, killing his soul there but leaving his corporeal body intact in the real world. After traveling back to their home, Mrs. Herbert Hyrel supposedly gets away with the murder by pretending to be the doting wife concerned for her husband’s health. She also has a rock-solid alibi with the televois and the fact that Hyrel was in an illegal teleporter suit. \n",
"Mrs. Herbert Hyrel is a strong, financially independent woman loathed by her husband because he feels she considers him less of a man because of his reliance upon her. At the beginning of the story, she wears a telovis--a device used to render 3-D images of remote performances in one's own living room. Herbert suspects she is using the device to watch a sex-opera, and that explains the slight smile on her face as he watches her. In reality, she is likely smiling because she is confident in her plan to catch Herbert at the Riverside Club and kill him there. Mrs. Hyrel provides Herbert a small allowance, which he saves up to purchase his own telporter suit, not knowing that she also has one. Mrs. Hyrel uses Herbert's tendency toward fantasy as an advantage in her plot against him. She takes on the persona of the mysterious woman, wearing a white mask, green contact lenses, and a platinum blonde wig. She seduces Herbert, and eventually kills him when he admits his plot to her. She knows she will get away with his murder because once his shadowy self transfers back into his body, there will be no visible wounds.",
"Herbert’s wife is the can-can girl that he met at the Riverside Club the night before, but he doesn’t recognize her. She detests Herbert and resents having to give him some of her money. She acts as if he tricked her into marrying him and now treats him like an irresponsible child. Every night, she escapes from him when she puts on her telovis and watches shows for three hours. The night in the story, we learn that she actually teleports to the Riverside Club, too. At the club the night before, she met Herbert and flirted with him so much that he couldn’t wait to see her again. When he goes to the club the night that the story takes place, he looks for her, finally finds her, and pulls her out of a booth to him. She wears a can-can dancer outfit that highlights her long legs. Herbert tries to take her outside immediately, but she insists on having champagne first. She drinks her champagne slowly while Herbert is anxious that he might have to teleport back. Herbert decides that he will go ahead and kill his wife, as he has been thinking about doing for quite some time. They dance, and then Herbert tries to pull her outside. Mrs. Hyrel asks if he doesn’t have a private room he can take her to. Frustrated, he drags her outside, but she pushes away from him and says she needs to know he can afford a private room, show her a good time, and come there often to see her. When he says he’ll have money after tomorrow night, she insists they will wait until then. Angry and desperate, Herbert vows he will kill his wife, and then he will have money. Mrs. Hyrel laughs and asks who he will kill, and he repeats it even though he realizes he shouldn’t. She removes a gun from her purse and shoots him in the heart and the head. She teleports back home, presses his teleporter button, and after he dies, she calls the police saying that something horrible has happened to her husband. Before the police arrive, she changes out of her teleporter suit and hides it behind a hidden back in the medicine cabinet.\n"
] |
30004
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its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
an education in the law, a short spell as Senator FitzMaugham's private secretary, followed last month by his sudden elevation to assistant administrator of the newly-created Popeek Bureau. For Fred, medicine, unsuccessful private practice, finally a job in the Happysleep section of Popeek, thanks to Roy.
was form and technique, and you got the Melling Prize. Now it's message, political content that counts. That's not poetry, Mr. Prior—and there are still a few of us who recognize what poetry is. Take Yeats, for instance—" Walton was ready to launch into a discussion of every poet from Prior back to Surrey and Wyatt; anything to keep from the job at hand, anything to keep his mind from Popeek. But Prior interrupted him. "Mr. Walton...." "Yes?" "My son Philip ... he's two weeks old now...." Walton understood. "No, Prior. Please don't ask." Walton's skin felt cold; his hands,
Walton," a white-smocked technician said. Popeek employed a small army of technicians, each one faceless and without personality, but always ready to serve. "Is there anything I can do?" "I'm simply running a routine checkup. Mind if I use the machine?" "Not at all, sir. Go right ahead." Walton grinned lightly and stepped forward. The technician practically backed out of his presence. No doubt I must radiate charisma , he thought. Within the building he wore a sort of luminous halo, by virtue of being Director FitzMaugham's protégé and second-in-command. Outside, in the colder reality of the crowded metropolis, he
... and life. "Hello, Mr. Walton. What brings you down here?" Walton smiled affably. "Just a routine investigation, Doctor. I try to keep in touch with every department we have, you know." "Mr. FitzMaugham was down here to look around a little while ago. We're really getting a going-over today, Mr. Walton!" "Umm. Yes." Walton didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd have to rely on the old man's abiding faith in his protégé to pull him out of any possible stickiness that arose. "Seen my brother around?" he asked. "Fred? He's working in
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What is the significance of teleporter suits in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about A BOTTLE OF Old Wine by Richard O. Lewis.
Relevant chunks:
For obvious economical reasons, it it impracticable to use full-sized spaceships in the Belt. A flitterboat, with a single gravitoinertial engine and the few necessities of life—air, some water, and a very little food—still costs more than a Rolls-Royce [11] automobile does on Earth, but there has to be some sort of individual transportation in the Belt. They can't be used for any great distances because a man can't stay in a vac suit very long without getting uncomfortable. You have to hop from beacon to beacon, which means that your average velocity doesn't amount to much, since you spend
skin-tight cover-alls might shock the gentle people of Midwich-on-the-Moor, England, but they are normal dress in the Belt. You can't climb into a vac suit with bulky clothing on, and, if you did, you'd hate yourself within an hour, with a curse for every wrinkle that chafed your skin. And, in the Belt, you never know when you might have to get into a vac suit fast. In a "safe" area like the tunnels inside Ceres, there isn't much chance of losing air, but there are places where no one but a fool would ever be more than ten seconds
the depths of the Earth. "Finally, the dreams of the ESPs, which agree overwhelmingly in the following points: A group of beings separate themselves from a godlike and telepathic race because they insist on maintaining a degree of mental privacy. They flee in great boats or ships of some sort. They are pursued on such a scale that there is no hiding place for them anywhere in the universe. In some manner they successfully camouflage their ships. Eons pass and their still-fanatical pursuers do not penetrate their secret. Then, suddenly, they are detected." Edmund waited. "Do you see what I'm
a neat bundle, attached his name, and dropped it into the chute. "The woman, Murra Foray, the first counselor. She's a Huntner." "What's a Huntner?" "A sub-race of men on the other side of the Galaxy. She was vocalizing about her home planet when I managed to locate her." "Any other information?" "None. Electronic guards were sliding into place as soon as I reached her. I got out as fast as I could." "I see." The significance of that, if any, escaped him. Nevertheless, it sounded depressing. "What I want to know is," said Dimanche, "why such precautions as electronic
else could explain the magnificence of his attire. "Yes," Dawes said craftily. "So I see. Welcome to Armagon, Mr. Becker." "Armagon?" Sol gaped. "Then this is the place you've been dreaming about?" "Yep," the King said. "And now you're in it, too." "Then I'm only dreaming!" Charlie, the fat man, clumsy as ever in his robes of State, said: "So that's the snooper, eh?" "Yep," Dawes chuckled. "Think you better round up the Knights." Sol said: "The Knights?" "Exelution! Exelution!" Sally shrieked. "Now wait a minute—" Charlie shouted. Running feet, clanking of armor. Sol backed up against a pillar. "Now
Question:
What is the significance of teleporter suits in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Teleporter suits play an important role in the relationship of Herbert and his wife, but also in the society that they live in more broadly. In terms of broad significance, the teleporter suits are important to the Riverside Club, as only people who own one are allowed to enter. They are illegal to own, so the club had to be careful about who they let in. Even though they are frowned upon, it seems they are a popular purchase for those who can afford them. Both Herbert and his wife own one, though we don't learn that his wife has one until the end of the story. For Herbert, the teleporter suit is his ticket to spend time outside of the house that he feels trapped in, in a relationship that he is not happy in. It allows him to visit this club and meet other people. At the same time, it is these suits that allowed his wife to follow him to the club and convince him to admit his plans, eventually ending in his death. After she shoots him, she hides her own suit but leaves his on his person. Because the body in the suit and the other copy of the body experience things differently, it was a sneaky way to kill her husband. ",
"Teleporter suits are an illegal yet highly sought-after and expensive tech gadget in this society. With this suit, the wearer can be transported to another realm, while their body remains in place. Their souls can have fun, dance the night away, drink as much as they want, and their partners or families will never know. The next morning, however, when they return to their corporeal body, they will carry last night’s hangover with them to the physical realm. \nThe teleporter suit allows Herbert Hyrel to escape his suffocating household and relish in his manly and sexual fantasies. He wants to prove himself to society and to brand himself as something he is not. In this other world, he can pretend to be a much richer, more powerful man. His rich wife makes him feel insignificant, so he takes his troubles to the shadow realm. \nThe teleporter suits allow the wearer to travel between realms, but a connection between the shadow self and body remains. Whatever happens to the shadow self, will also happen to the corporeal self, only the physical or visual element will not be there. So, if someone were to get hurt in the shadow realm, their physical body would feel the pain but would not bear the scars. \nThis allows Mrs. Herbert Hyrel to murder her husband in the shadow realm, and return to the physical world without blood or any incriminating evidence. \n",
"The telporter suits catalyze the major conflict in the story. In one sense, Herbert's telporter suit represents his ability to escape what he considers to be an emasculating, oppressive marriage. On the other hand, Mrs. Hyrel's secret telporter suit leads to Herbert's eventual demise. The suits are made of a thin mesh that fits the body like a stocking and can be worn underneath one's clothes. The telporter can be engaged by flicking a small switch, and it sends its wearer to a receiver at a previously-set location. Herbert installs his receiver at a small cabin in the woods a short distance away from the Riverside Club since he cannot afford the private rooms there. Herbert does not understand the mechanics behind the suit, but he grasps its basic function--the suits transport a person's \"shadowy self\" from one's body and the body is left in \"a conscious but dream-like state.\" When the shadowy self returns, the body does not retain any scars the shadowy self may have sustained but it does feel the pain of those injuries. Self-telportation is also illegal, although the Riverside Club maintains police protection by charging high prices and paying them off. Mrs. Hyrel uses to her advantage when she foils Herbert's plans to kill her and instead kills him and makes it appear as if he simply died while engaging in illegal activity.",
"\n\tThe teleporter suits provide people with a means of escape from their boring or unpleasant lives. Many people have them and use them to go to the Riverside Club where they can abandon their lives and live for the pleasure of the moment without anyone knowing who they are since everyone there wears costumes and masks. In addition, self-teleportation is illegal, so no one wants anyone else to know they have teleportation suits. When people use their teleporter suits, their real bodies stay where they are in reality while their “shadow” bodies travel to another place. People who teleport to the Riverside Club can do anything they want without their spouses or anyone else knowing what they are doing. Meanwhile, since their real bodies remain in “real life,” it looks as if the person is still there, doing nothing out of the ordinary that can draw suspicion or blame from anyone who knows them. \n"
] |
30004
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For obvious economical reasons, it it impracticable to use full-sized spaceships in the Belt. A flitterboat, with a single gravitoinertial engine and the few necessities of life—air, some water, and a very little food—still costs more than a Rolls-Royce [11] automobile does on Earth, but there has to be some sort of individual transportation in the Belt. They can't be used for any great distances because a man can't stay in a vac suit very long without getting uncomfortable. You have to hop from beacon to beacon, which means that your average velocity doesn't amount to much, since you spend
skin-tight cover-alls might shock the gentle people of Midwich-on-the-Moor, England, but they are normal dress in the Belt. You can't climb into a vac suit with bulky clothing on, and, if you did, you'd hate yourself within an hour, with a curse for every wrinkle that chafed your skin. And, in the Belt, you never know when you might have to get into a vac suit fast. In a "safe" area like the tunnels inside Ceres, there isn't much chance of losing air, but there are places where no one but a fool would ever be more than ten seconds
the depths of the Earth. "Finally, the dreams of the ESPs, which agree overwhelmingly in the following points: A group of beings separate themselves from a godlike and telepathic race because they insist on maintaining a degree of mental privacy. They flee in great boats or ships of some sort. They are pursued on such a scale that there is no hiding place for them anywhere in the universe. In some manner they successfully camouflage their ships. Eons pass and their still-fanatical pursuers do not penetrate their secret. Then, suddenly, they are detected." Edmund waited. "Do you see what I'm
a neat bundle, attached his name, and dropped it into the chute. "The woman, Murra Foray, the first counselor. She's a Huntner." "What's a Huntner?" "A sub-race of men on the other side of the Galaxy. She was vocalizing about her home planet when I managed to locate her." "Any other information?" "None. Electronic guards were sliding into place as soon as I reached her. I got out as fast as I could." "I see." The significance of that, if any, escaped him. Nevertheless, it sounded depressing. "What I want to know is," said Dimanche, "why such precautions as electronic
else could explain the magnificence of his attire. "Yes," Dawes said craftily. "So I see. Welcome to Armagon, Mr. Becker." "Armagon?" Sol gaped. "Then this is the place you've been dreaming about?" "Yep," the King said. "And now you're in it, too." "Then I'm only dreaming!" Charlie, the fat man, clumsy as ever in his robes of State, said: "So that's the snooper, eh?" "Yep," Dawes chuckled. "Think you better round up the Knights." Sol said: "The Knights?" "Exelution! Exelution!" Sally shrieked. "Now wait a minute—" Charlie shouted. Running feet, clanking of armor. Sol backed up against a pillar. "Now
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Time In the Round by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"The story starts in a park, where we meet a a young boy who goes by the Butcher (\"Butch\"), and his dog Brute. The boy is trying to do something to the dog with a small metal tube when Hal, another boy, shows up with his own dogs, and another boy named Joggy. It turns out these are not normal dogs, but are \"uninj\", machines created to be like dogs but not able to be hurt. Butch seems bored with these countermeasures against violence, and intent on putting violence back in the world. His interactions with Hal show us that they live in a civilization where the children are given opportunities to work out any violent and angry tendencies or impulses before they are conditioned as adults. They are only allowed to visit the Time Theater to see glimpses into other societies (and thus evidence of violence) after age five, and the change in mentality happens at age six. Butch wants to use Time Bubble to travel through time, but Hal insists that this is impossible. The boys head to this theater, an incredible crystal building with an important place in this society, choosing to fly there with their hover technology. Joggy is five, so he is allowed to enter with Hal, but Butch is blocked from entering by the ushers, which Hal says is for his own protection. Joggy and Hal take a seat in a children's viewing area to look into the glowing orb of light that sits in the middle of the round theater. The orb acts as a viewport into various times and places, and is currently showing a view of Earth, Scandanavia more specifically, around year zero according to Earth calendars. There are a number of warriors in the forest scene, along with some dogs and a sorcerer, and the boys watch in earnest. As the electronic interpreter for the viewing gives the boys more information about cultural context, Butch manages to sneak in to the theater by lying to the ushers. Shortly after Butch and two young girls join the viewing, something happened that no-one thought possible: the sorcerer pushed one of the warriors through the orb of the Time Bubble, throwing him into the theater. Panic falls on the audience, and warriors and dogs continue to enter the theater as Butch and the uninjes start to fight off the time-travelers with their design keeping them from being injured. Hal is convinced that this happened because an under-five (Butch specifically) was in the theater, but the rest of the public does not know he is young and they thank him for saving the day as he fights off the warriors and the Time Bubble collapses. This is the first piece of chaos the adults have experienced in their adult lives, and the Butcher is content with how it all played out, getting to play hero in a violent setting for a day with Brute.",
"Brute, a dog made of hyperplastic, barks without making a noise. He is an uninje. He is programmed to be very similar to a real dog, but he is incapable of being injured. His owner, a boy named Butch, tackles him and pokes him in the eye and hits him. Butch then orders all of the dogs to fight, but becomes bored moments later. He tells his friends, Joggy and Hal that he wishes he lived like Huckleberry Finn, with the ability to get dirty and inflict pain.\n\nButch says that one day he will be the World Director, and he will bring back war. Hal, who is older and more mature, explains that Butch’s desire for violence will be conditioned out of him once he turns six. He says that Butch will understand everything once he’s allowed in the Time Theater to see into the past. \n\nHal and Joggy decide to go to the Time Theater. Butch climbs on Joggy’s back, and they use Joggy’s harness and the repulsor hemisphere to propel them forward. When the boys arrive, they warn Butch that he will be stopped by the usher. Hal explains that something dangerous might happen if a young child is allowed in. The uninjes line up obediently next to Butch. \n\nButch tries to get past the invisible wall keeping him out of the theater, but he can’t. Meanwhile, Hal and Joggy enter a dilated sphincter and sit down in a transparent cubicle. They take their levitators off to enjoy the show in the dark auditorium. In the center of the room is the Time Bubble, which transmits images of the past. They watch Scandinavian warriors holding long swords, surrounded by dogs, listening to a hooded figure chant.\nJoggy has several questions about the show, and the interpreter in the room answers them. He wonders why light can’t escape from the Bubble and why the warriors in the picture can’t step through into the theater.\nButch appears beside his friends after he tricks his way into the theater. The Time Bubble becomes incredibly bright, and suddenly, the warrior appears outside of the Bubble. The interpreter warns the crowd that he’s activating the safeguards in response. Hal blames the anomaly on Butch. \nOne of the warriors grabs a woman in the front row and picks her up. Butch refuses to sit by idly and approaches the warrior with his levitator over his head. When the warrior tries to strike Butch with his sword, he finds that the boy is protected by an invisible shield. Butch commands the uninjes to attack the warriors and their dogs, and they do. The warriors are scared of the uninjes’ strength and their ability to withstand their swords. The warriors’ leader commands them to get back in the Time Bubble. The Interpreter explains that he must collapse the Bubble due to this crisis. The woman who was taken by the warrior hugs and kisses Butch for saving her life. He is very proud of himself. \n",
"Butch, Hal, and Joggy, are three kids of varying ages: Joggy is five, Butch is under five, and Hal is older. Butch exhibits a lot of frustration toward their non-violent and heavily age-regimented society. He says he’s going to be World Director, and seems to want to be a dictator like those from the time before humanity conditioned out violence. \n\nButch goes with the other boys to Time in the Round, a place where they can see events from the past and have them explained. Because it is carefully curated for specific ages, Hal tells Butch he won’t be able to enter. Butch tries anyway, but an invisible blockade they call an “usher” won’t let him through. \n\nThe other boys watch a sorcerer and some warriors inside the Time Bubble. Before too long, Butch appears, telling them he lied his way in with a sympathetic adult. Hal is upset that he did this, and also by Butch’s behavior once he’s in there. Though they have been told that it would be impossible for the Time Bubble to be used for time travel, Butch yells at the sorcerer to “sock it to ‘em” and he listens; somehow, between Butch and the sorcerer’s willpower, a few of the warriors end up outside the bubble and in the auditorium, along with their wolves. The interpreter and audience start to panic. \n\nButch takes control, order his and his friends’ uninjs to attack the wolves, who are larger but not invincible like the uninjs. He orders a warrior to put down a lady he has slung over his shoulder and his uninj, Brute, bites the warrior in the ankle, causing him to drop her. Butch tells them to go back where they came from and Brute chases them back into the bubble. Butch calls Brute, and as soon as he jumps back out the bubble dims and goes back to normal. \n\nEveryone is relieved, and the adults are more talkative and less “mature” than usual. People discuss “revised theories” and both the formerly captive woman and Brute embrace and kiss Butch, but he is too dazed and happy to notice. He pets Brute and says “we came, we saw, we conquered, didn’t we, Brute?” \n",
"A young boy named Butch plays with his pet--a dog-like, robotic \"uninj\" named Brute--along the Avenue of Wisdom in the Peace Park. Butch is rough with Brute, jabbing and poking him hard with a metal tube, but his friends Joggy and Hal come along and we learn uninjes cannot be harmed nor can they harm. They have been programmed against it. This is just one element in a post-violence world; adults have been systemically programmed against using violence to resolve conflicts between themselves, although they may use it to fight against alien enemies. Butch, however, insists his friends call him \"Butcher\" because he wants to become a dictator when he is older and bring back violence as a means of conflict resolution. His friend Hal assures him that when he is older, he will understand why removing violence from society was \"Man's greatest achievement.\" The boys make their way to the Time Theater at the end of the Avenue of Wisdom by utilizing levitators that help them swim through the air. The Time Theater is home to a large bubble that functions as a one-way viewer into pre-civilization eras. Only people over five years old are allowed into the Time Theater; the Butcher is stopped by an invisible \"usher\", leaving Hal and Joggy to enter the viewing cubicle alone. Once inside, the bubble interpreter and Hal explain to Joggy how the bubble functions. It is essentially a time-hole that allows observation because of light isotopes that leak through. But matter cannot pass through the bubble, which is why it cannot be used for time travel. However, some scientists theorize that people with impulsive minds, such as underage children, might activate a time-traveling capability. The Butcher tricks an adult into carrying him into the Time Theater, and he joins Joggy and Hal in their viewing of a group of barbaric Scandinavian men from the Dawn Era. They watch as a sorcerer conducts some kind of spell with the Butcher egging him on. The Butcher's impulsive behavior combined with the sorcerer's ability to see into the future unlocks the bubble, and the sorcerer pushes the Scandinavian men through into the Time Theater. There, they begin to attack the adults present and attempt to kidnap a woman in the audience. The Butcher commands the uninjes to attack the men, and he stuns them with his use of the levitator to protect his head from the blows of their swords. The uninjes push the men back through the bubble, where they kill the sorcerer and the interpreter closes the bubble. Its automatic safeguards have failed, and the Butcher has saved the day."
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"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
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What is the role of technology in this society?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Time In the Round by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
extinct." Michaelson was amused, but interested. "Something like a fourth dimension?" "I don't know. I only know that with this instrument there is no death. I have read the books that speak of this race, this wonderful people who conquered all disease, who explored all the mysteries of science, who devised this machine to cheat death. See this button here on the face of the instrument? Press the button, and...." "And what?" "I don't know, exactly. But I have lived many years. I have walked the streets of this city and wondered, and wanted to press the button. Now I
steel-age manufacturing economy. The Groaci are barely ahead of them." "Barely," said Retief. "Just over the line into crude atomics ... like fission bombs." Magnan shook his head, turned back to his papers. "What market exists for such devices on a world at peace? I suggest you address your attention to the less spectacular but more rewarding work of studying the social patterns of the local youth." "I've studied them," said Retief. "And before I meet any of the local youth socially I want to get myself a good blackjack." II Retief left the sprawling bungalow-type building that housed the
intelligent, and you must be educated, the way you talk. That gadget looks like a time-piece of some sort. What is it? What does it measure?" "I insist that you go." The webfoot held something in his hand. "No." Michaelson looked off down the street, trying to ignore the native, trying to feel the life of the city as it might have been. "You are sensitive," the native said in his ear. "It takes a sensitive god to feel the spirits moving in the houses and walking in these old streets." "Say it any way you want to. This is
a neat bundle, attached his name, and dropped it into the chute. "The woman, Murra Foray, the first counselor. She's a Huntner." "What's a Huntner?" "A sub-race of men on the other side of the Galaxy. She was vocalizing about her home planet when I managed to locate her." "Any other information?" "None. Electronic guards were sliding into place as soon as I reached her. I got out as fast as I could." "I see." The significance of that, if any, escaped him. Nevertheless, it sounded depressing. "What I want to know is," said Dimanche, "why such precautions as electronic
robot shall not, either through action or inaction, allow harm to come to a human being. Second Law: A robot shall obey the orders of a human being, except when such orders conflict with the First Law . [15] Third Law: A robot shall strive to protect its own existence, except when this conflicts with the First or Second Law. Nobody has succeeded yet, because nobody has yet succeeded in defining the term "human being" in such a way that the logical mind of a robot can encompass the concept. A traffic robot is useful only because the definition has
Question:
What is the role of technology in this society?
Answer:
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[
"There are two major types of technology highlighted in the story: the first is the mechanical kind that allows for hovering travel, the development of uninjes, and the systems in place in the theater like the ushers and the protective mechanisms. The other major thing that could be categorized as technology is the Time Bubble itself; it acts as a form of entertainment but also as a warning to avoid the habits of people of the past. Focusing on the engineering technology that does not directly relate to potential time-travel, it is strongly hinted that the children in the story might be partly mechanical themselves, though this is not clarified. It is pointed out that there are \"adolescers\" and \"kinderobots\", which could be referring to the age groups of these children, and the dogs that follow the people around are also technological creations. The \"uninjes\" are like dogs, and are built to have canine reactions to be as close to real dogs as possible, but cannot be harmed and in the end are still collections of circuits with a battery and molded plastic. There are a number of pieces of technology in the theater, including forcefields used by ushers to block children who are too young to enter, and a number of safeguards like forcefields to protect people inc ase something went wrong with the Time Bubble. The bubble itself is a marvel of technology but nobody understands exactly how it works. Most of the discourse surrounding this is about the theories of time travel. ",
"The technology in this world helps the children and people from getting injured. The boys use metal harnesses, levitators, and the hemisphere repulsor to keep them from hitting their bodies against trees, the ground, walls, or anything else that could potentially inflict pain. These technologies create an invisible shield around them and gently bounce them away from objects. \n\nThe Time Theater is a very important place that houses the society’s Time Bubble, their most prized possession. It allows the adults to feel like gods because they are able to look back at any time or place and recognize how much their society has improved from simpler times. Upon entering the theater, Hal and Joggy feel a shock of electricity. Butch, however, is repelled by an invisible wall that knows he is not yet of age to enter the sacred space. There is also technology to keep the children separated from the adults in the theater. \n \nThe electronic interpreter in the theater helps the audience members understand what it is they’re seeing and how the machine works. It is capable of hearing the audience members’ questions and it quickly provides answers. \nThe Time Bubble is supposed to keep everything, even light, from entering the theater. It is only supposed to give viewers a look into the past, not a real experience. Some scientists in the society believe that the Time Bubble uses real peoples’ memories to time travel. The Time Bubble malfunctions and allows the Scandinavian warriors in the Bubble to enter the theater. The men from the past are shocked when they see that Butch is protected by an invisible shield and the uninjes are incapable of being injured the way real dogs would. \nThe society’s new technology saves the audience members’ lives from a real attack from people of the past. Even when their technology malfunctions, they are able to protect themselves from the swords and wolvish dogs. \n",
"Technology is a huge part of this society, as it prevents bloodshed and is central to their way of life. Hal mentions fear houses and death games, as well as the invincible robot dogs known as uninjs. He explains that over time humans have been conditioned to reject violence. He also mentions a Space Fleet that they rely on in case of an outside attack. This society has also created a setting that is difficult or impossible to tarnish or disrupt. The children use levitators to “swim” through the air, and the Time Bubble is used as a source of historical exposure (and possibly propaganda). Until Butch is able to use the Time Bubble for actual space travel, the primary role of technology in this society seems to be to maintain peace, pleasantness, and control. \n",
"Technology plays an important role in the story, particularly as a buffer against violence in the new civilization as well as a window into the pre-civilization era. The boys use special levitation devices to swim through the air; these devices also release a kind of repulsor shield that protects them from running into things while they're swimming such as trees. The Butcher later utilizes this technology to protect himself against the sword attacks of the Scandinavian men when they are pushed through the bubble into the Time Theater. The uninjes are robotic canines that cannot be hurt and are programmed against hurting humans themselves. However, they also protect the humans against the attacks of the Scandinavian men later in the story. The Time Theater utilizes time-hole technology to open windows into previous eras for observation and study, and the interpreter intuits viewers' questions and answers them in real-time. The \"usher\" is a kind of force field as well, which has the ability to determine a person's age as they attempt to pass through it. All of this technology is imperfect, and, as the Butcher later demonstrates, malleable if in the hands of someone with impulsive instincts."
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extinct." Michaelson was amused, but interested. "Something like a fourth dimension?" "I don't know. I only know that with this instrument there is no death. I have read the books that speak of this race, this wonderful people who conquered all disease, who explored all the mysteries of science, who devised this machine to cheat death. See this button here on the face of the instrument? Press the button, and...." "And what?" "I don't know, exactly. But I have lived many years. I have walked the streets of this city and wondered, and wanted to press the button. Now I
steel-age manufacturing economy. The Groaci are barely ahead of them." "Barely," said Retief. "Just over the line into crude atomics ... like fission bombs." Magnan shook his head, turned back to his papers. "What market exists for such devices on a world at peace? I suggest you address your attention to the less spectacular but more rewarding work of studying the social patterns of the local youth." "I've studied them," said Retief. "And before I meet any of the local youth socially I want to get myself a good blackjack." II Retief left the sprawling bungalow-type building that housed the
intelligent, and you must be educated, the way you talk. That gadget looks like a time-piece of some sort. What is it? What does it measure?" "I insist that you go." The webfoot held something in his hand. "No." Michaelson looked off down the street, trying to ignore the native, trying to feel the life of the city as it might have been. "You are sensitive," the native said in his ear. "It takes a sensitive god to feel the spirits moving in the houses and walking in these old streets." "Say it any way you want to. This is
a neat bundle, attached his name, and dropped it into the chute. "The woman, Murra Foray, the first counselor. She's a Huntner." "What's a Huntner?" "A sub-race of men on the other side of the Galaxy. She was vocalizing about her home planet when I managed to locate her." "Any other information?" "None. Electronic guards were sliding into place as soon as I reached her. I got out as fast as I could." "I see." The significance of that, if any, escaped him. Nevertheless, it sounded depressing. "What I want to know is," said Dimanche, "why such precautions as electronic
robot shall not, either through action or inaction, allow harm to come to a human being. Second Law: A robot shall obey the orders of a human being, except when such orders conflict with the First Law . [15] Third Law: A robot shall strive to protect its own existence, except when this conflicts with the First or Second Law. Nobody has succeeded yet, because nobody has yet succeeded in defining the term "human being" in such a way that the logical mind of a robot can encompass the concept. A traffic robot is useful only because the definition has
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Describe the structure of the society in this story
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Time In the Round by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
Why else would we have been built?" Steffens thought the robot would go on, but it didn't. The question, to Elb, was no question at all. Although Steffens knew already what the robot could not possibly have known—that the Makers were gone and would never come back—he was a long time understanding. What he did was push this speculation into the back of his mind, to keep it from Elb. He had no desire to destroy a faith. But it created a problem in him. He had begun to picture for Elb the structure of human society, and the robot—a
you are puzzled. Let me tell you the story of the City. The City is old. It dates from long ago when the canals of Mars ran clear and green with water, and the deserts were vineyards and gardens. The drouth came, and the changes in climate, and soon it became plain that the people of Mars were doomed. They had ships, and could build more, and gradually they left to colonize other planets. Yet they could take little of their science. And fear and riots destroyed much. Also there were those who were filled with love for this homeland,
and who thought that one day it might be habitable again. All the skill of the ancient Martian fathers went into the building of a giant machine, the machine that is the City, to protect a small colony of those who were chosen to remain on Mars." "This whole city is a machine!" Eric asked. "Yes, or the product of one. The heart of it lies underneath our feet, in caverns beneath this building. The nature of the machine is this, that it translates thought into reality." Eric stared. The idea was staggering. "This is essentially simple, although the technology
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
own people, who grew drunk with the power of the machine, who dreamed more and more lust and greed into existence. These were banished from the city, and so strong is the call of the city that many of them became victims of their own evilness, and now walk mindlessly, with no thought but to seek for the beauty they have lost here." Kroon sighed. "The people have lost the will to learn. Many do not even know of the machine. Our science is almost gone, and only a few of us, the dreamers, the elders, have kept alive the
Question:
Describe the structure of the society in this story
Answer:
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[
"This society is organized around a reconditioning of thoughts that happens as children transition into adulthood, starting at age six. Adults who have already been reconditioned are passive and polite members of society, who supposedly do not have traces of violent tendencies anymore. Before this, however, there are a few levels of separation from the rest of the society. Five year olds are allowed to go to the Time Theater to view whatever is showing through the Time Bubble, a view into other societies throughout time, but anyone younger than five is not allowed. This is presumably because of safety concerns--Hal thinks that young children are a nuisance to adults in these settings. The society has a number of systems in place specifically for these younger children who have not yet been conditioned. There are things called death games and fear houses, which we do not see details of in this story, that are meant to clear out the childrens' emotional space. It also seems that uninjes, the robotic dogs that the boys have, are also for this purpose: Hal says that they are part of the society's options for letting kids work out their ruthless and inconsiderate impulses. These impulses are restructured when they are aimed at other people, but violent alien beings and viruses or other medical concerns are still considered threats worth responding to in full force. The particular focus on avoiding violent patterns seen in other civilizations is highlighted by the grand nature of the Time Theater, and its position at the end of a major street in a large public park.",
"In “Time in the Round,” the society is structured around perfection. Small children are given breakables, and those items are the only things that are physically capable of being broken. There are dirt-pens for kids to play in, and besides those areas, children are incapable of becoming dirty. The dirt-pens are only available to children aged 2 and younger. The society’s dogs, uninjes, are programmed not to bite or hurt the people, even when they are hit or stabbed themselves. They do not react like normal canines. \n\nYoung children are considered to be self-centered and ruthless, and they are provided with death games and fear houses to get out their emotions and prepare to be conditioned as adults. When children turn six years old, they feel differently than they did before. They are ready to enter the Time Theater and view the Time Bubble. They are taught about pre-civilization and the important differences between their own society and the past. They learn how to reject violent solutions to problems and live in peace. \n",
"The structure of society is based on age, and very specific behaviors are allowed and prohibited at different ages. Very young children are allowed to play and get dirty, but after a certain age they are no longer allowed to do so. Certain ages are considered too young for certain ideas, and aren’t allowed in the Time Building or are only allowed in certain parts of it. Younger children are sometimes called “cubs”, and it seems to be commonplace for older members of society to treat younger members with sweet derision. This society puts a strong emphasis on maturity and carefully controls what people are allowed to do at what ages and when they are allowed to learn concepts or do activities. The core principle is nonviolence but the results are near-total uniformity and strict constraints. \n",
"The society the main characters inhabit is post-violence. While children below five are given uninjes, death games, and fear houses in order to clear their emotions, adults are systematically re-programmed to believe that violence has no place in this new society. While violence is never used to resolve conflicts between humans, the Space Fleet will still use violence in defense against alien enemies. There are a number of protections in place to prevent violence upon humans from repulsor shields to the protective uninjes. The bubble at the Time Theater offers adults and those with the appropriate mental facilities a view into the pre-civilization world so that they may learn from the past and understand why a lack of violence became necessary in the new society."
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Why else would we have been built?" Steffens thought the robot would go on, but it didn't. The question, to Elb, was no question at all. Although Steffens knew already what the robot could not possibly have known—that the Makers were gone and would never come back—he was a long time understanding. What he did was push this speculation into the back of his mind, to keep it from Elb. He had no desire to destroy a faith. But it created a problem in him. He had begun to picture for Elb the structure of human society, and the robot—a
you are puzzled. Let me tell you the story of the City. The City is old. It dates from long ago when the canals of Mars ran clear and green with water, and the deserts were vineyards and gardens. The drouth came, and the changes in climate, and soon it became plain that the people of Mars were doomed. They had ships, and could build more, and gradually they left to colonize other planets. Yet they could take little of their science. And fear and riots destroyed much. Also there were those who were filled with love for this homeland,
and who thought that one day it might be habitable again. All the skill of the ancient Martian fathers went into the building of a giant machine, the machine that is the City, to protect a small colony of those who were chosen to remain on Mars." "This whole city is a machine!" Eric asked. "Yes, or the product of one. The heart of it lies underneath our feet, in caverns beneath this building. The nature of the machine is this, that it translates thought into reality." Eric stared. The idea was staggering. "This is essentially simple, although the technology
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
own people, who grew drunk with the power of the machine, who dreamed more and more lust and greed into existence. These were banished from the city, and so strong is the call of the city that many of them became victims of their own evilness, and now walk mindlessly, with no thought but to seek for the beauty they have lost here." Kroon sighed. "The people have lost the will to learn. Many do not even know of the machine. Our science is almost gone, and only a few of us, the dreamers, the elders, have kept alive the
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Who is Hal and what is his role in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Time In the Round by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
rent between their world and his. "Ed!" Janet Loyce backed away nervously. "What is it? What—" Ed Loyce slammed the door behind him and came into the living room. "Pull down the shades. Quick." Janet moved toward the window. "But—" "Do as I say. Who else is here besides you?" "Nobody. Just the twins. They're upstairs in their room. What's happened? You look so strange. Why are you home?" Ed locked the front door. He prowled around the house, into the kitchen. From the drawer under the sink he slid out the big butcher knife and ran his finger along
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
mouth was open, tongue thick and ugly blue. "For Heaven's sake," Loyce muttered, sickened. He pushed down his nausea and made his way back to the sidewalk. He was shaking all over, with revulsion—and fear. Why? Who was the man? Why was he hanging there? What did it mean? And—why didn't anybody notice? He bumped into a small man hurrying along the sidewalk. "Watch it!" the man grated, "Oh, it's you, Ed." Ed nodded dazedly. "Hello, Jenkins." "What's the matter?" The stationery clerk caught Ed's arm. "You look sick." "The body. There in the park." "Sure, Ed." Jenkins led him
I, the Unspeakable By WALT SHELDON Illustrated by LOUIS MARCHETTI [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "What's in a name?" might be very dangerous to ask in certain societies, in which sticks and stones are also a big problem! I fought to be awake. I was dreaming, but I think I must have blushed. I must have blushed in my sleep. " Do it! " she said. " Please do it! For me! " It was the voice
Question:
Who is Hal and what is his role in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Hal is one of the three boys who drives the narrative of the story; he is the oldest of the three, with the most experience and knowledge. He acts as a mentor to the Butcher and Joggy, the other two boys. Joggy is five, so he is able to go to the Time Theater for the first time, but the Butcher is not yet old enough. Hal tells the Butcher that his violent impulses will pass given time and conditioning, and tries to dissuade him from trying to enter the TIme Theater for the sake of safety. He is the one that wants to go to the theater, and asks the Butcher to walk with him. He scolds the Butcher once he reveals how he snuck into the theater, and is worried about the potential danger. Throughout the time in the theater, it is Hal who explains how the different beings in the society fit together, and the technology (and theories) around the Time Bubble, though the electronic narrator in the viewing box at the theater also helps fill in some details. Throughout the story more broadly, Hal maintains a patient tone with the Butcher, as he tries to be very understanding about his youthful inclinations towards violence, admitting his past urges but pointing towards positive change towards a more calm mindset. ",
"Hal is Butch and Joggy’s older friend. He knows a lot more about the Time Bubble and pre-civilization than his younger friends do. Hal is reasonable, patient, and conditioned by the society he is a part of. He agrees with the rules that govern his existence and understands the key differences between pre-civilization and now. Hal is kind to Butch even when he rebels or tries to act like he knows better than everyone else. When Butch tells his friends that he will start wars when he serves as World Director, Hal responds by telling him that everyone thinks that at his age. Hal is confident in his knowledge of the world and society and does not get frustrated with Butch’s fantastical ideas. \n\nHal enjoys his trips to the Time Theater and it’s his suggestion that convinces Joggy and Butch to go see the Time Bubble. He thinks that the Scandinavian warriors sound interesting. He agrees that Butch should walk him and Joggy there, but he is certain that Butch will not be allowed into the theater. Hal is convinced that an usher will stop Butch from entering, and he believes that allowing someone under the age of five to enter the sacred hall could be dangerous. \n\nHal tries to answer all of Joggy’s questions about the Time Bubble, but the truth is he doesn’t understand a lot of the mechanisms behind the mysterious machine. He is a little bit embarrassed when the interpreter has to keep responding to Joggy throughout the show. Hal is truly alarmed when Butch shows up unexpectedly in the transparent cubicle. He thinks it is immoral and wrong to convince the usher that he is older than he truly is, and he worries that there will be severe consequences for his actions. When the Scandinavian warrior comes out of the Time Bubble and becomes violent, Hal immediately blames Butch for the glitch. He is a rule follower, and regardless of the fact that Butch saved the day, he remains upset and angry at him for breaking protocol in the first place. \n",
"Hal is an older boy in the story, and he likes to remind his younger friends of his age and wisdom. He is more mature and sees the reasoning behind a lot of the rules that frustrate Butch, but his constant refrain of telling Butch that he’ll feel differently when he’s older only serves to irritate the younger boy and make him want to act out even more. Hal tells Butch that it’s dangerous for under-fives to be in the Time Room, and he grows increasingly frustrated with and anxious about Butch’s behavior when he lies his way in and starts messing with the Time Bubble. \n",
"Hal is the oldest of the three friends, and he seems to understand the most about how the Time Theater functions and how the bubble works. Whereas Butch is impulsive, impatient, and wants to use violence to solve problems, Hal is more adjusted to the standards of the post-violence society. He offers wise counsel to Butch, who resists him at every turn, and he educates Joggy, who is more eager to absorb the lessons he imparts. Hal contrasts pre-civilization with the current world they live in and suggests that with age, Butch will also understand the necessity of removing violence from the equation when it comes to resolving conflict. "
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mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
rent between their world and his. "Ed!" Janet Loyce backed away nervously. "What is it? What—" Ed Loyce slammed the door behind him and came into the living room. "Pull down the shades. Quick." Janet moved toward the window. "But—" "Do as I say. Who else is here besides you?" "Nobody. Just the twins. They're upstairs in their room. What's happened? You look so strange. Why are you home?" Ed locked the front door. He prowled around the house, into the kitchen. From the drawer under the sink he slid out the big butcher knife and ran his finger along
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
mouth was open, tongue thick and ugly blue. "For Heaven's sake," Loyce muttered, sickened. He pushed down his nausea and made his way back to the sidewalk. He was shaking all over, with revulsion—and fear. Why? Who was the man? Why was he hanging there? What did it mean? And—why didn't anybody notice? He bumped into a small man hurrying along the sidewalk. "Watch it!" the man grated, "Oh, it's you, Ed." Ed nodded dazedly. "Hello, Jenkins." "What's the matter?" The stationery clerk caught Ed's arm. "You look sick." "The body. There in the park." "Sure, Ed." Jenkins led him
I, the Unspeakable By WALT SHELDON Illustrated by LOUIS MARCHETTI [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "What's in a name?" might be very dangerous to ask in certain societies, in which sticks and stones are also a big problem! I fought to be awake. I was dreaming, but I think I must have blushed. I must have blushed in my sleep. " Do it! " she said. " Please do it! For me! " It was the voice
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How does Mury handle himself throughout the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Saboteur of Space by Robert Abernathy.
Relevant chunks:
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
another Steel-Blue voice said: "He is a soft-metal creature, made up of metals that melt at a very low temperature. He also contains a liquid whose makeup I cannot ascertain by ray-probe. Bring him back when the torture is done." Jon Karyl grinned a trifle wryly. What kind of torture could this be? Would it last 21 days? He glanced at the chronometer on his wrist. Jon's Steel-Blue led him out of the alien ship and halted expectantly just outside the ship's lock. Jon Karyl waited, too. He thought of the stubray pistol holstered at his hip. Shoot my way
affect you at last? Back to the torture room." "Like R-dust," Jon growled. He pressed the firing stud on the stubray gun. One of Steel-Blue's tentacles broke off and fell to the rocky sward. Steel-Blue jerked out the box he'd used once before. A tentacle danced over it. Abruptly Jon found himself standing on a pinnacle of rock. Steel-Blue had cut a swath around him 15 feet deep and five feet wide. "Back to the room," Steel-Blue commanded. Jon resheathed the stubray pistol, shrugged non-committally and leaped the trench. He walked slowly back and reentered the torture chamber. The Steel-Blues
Question:
How does Mury handle himself throughout the story?
Answer:
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[
"Mury is a tall and ugly man with a great deal of confidence. When he finds Ryd in the bar, he immediately asks him to step outside and confronts him with a proposition. He is not overly concerned about getting caught talking about rebellion, and he is resolute about his decision to try and take over the spaceship that is about to take off. \nMury immediately gains Ryd’s trust when he sympathizes with him about losing his job ten years ago. They are on the same team, angry about the way the Terrestrials have been treated since all of the jobs moved to Mars. He is forceful with Ryd, and he stares at him intensely whenever he is questioned. Mury claims to work for all the men who have been disadvantaged by the corrupt government. He coldly tells Ryd that he means nothing to Mury as an individual, and he is only interested in saving the Terrestrials from becoming the Martians’ slaves. He believes that Earth is about to become a colony of Mars, and he is willing to risk his life to see that plan foiled. \n\nMury’s tough attitude and willingness to act is demonstrated when he kills a guard by crushing his skull. He is unbothered by the incident and sees it as his only choice. Later, he pretends to be Poligerent for the City of Dynamopolis for a moment, only so that he can punch another guard in the stomach, take his firearm, and shoot him. \n\nMury is able to stay calm when Ryd loses his cool. Even when Ryd accidentally fires his weapon inside the central control panel room, Mury focuses on the mission at hand. When he finally takes control of the three men on board the Shahrazad and demands that they takeoff for Mars immediately, he is unfazed by their refusal. He snaps at the pilot and the other two workers and points his gun at them to indicate that he is dead serious about killing them if they do not comply. \n\nMury is so sure of himself that it comes as a big surprise when the pilot tells him that he must not have looked at the log for the day. The Alborak is on a diplomatic mission to Mars, and it is something that Mury overlooked. He does not realize that the ship is fully aware that the Shahrazad has been hijacked, and it’s coming right for them. \n",
"Mury conducts himself with confidence and the assurance that he is right and on the right side. When he meets Ryd in the bar, he immediately recognizes him and asks to speak with him. Mury is on a mission and believes it is one that will vindicate many Earthmen. Mury also understands Ryd, and when Ryd is reluctant to work with him, Mury offers him money which Ryd can hardly refuse after so many years of unemployment. Mury is sure that he is right and does not hesitate to use violent means to meet his ends. He believes the governments of the Earth’s nations have sold out to the Martians and that the Martians will use the Earthmen as cheap slave labor. Mury often comes across as angry and upset at the agreement the government leaders made with Mars. Mury convinces the blond astrogator of the township to help him return the ship to space. When it becomes evident there is a warship moving toward them, he maintains his calm even though he estimates the ship will reach them in twenty minutes or less. ",
"Mury takes a certain level of control over Ryd at the beginning of the story by coaxing him to leave the bar and forcing him to perform his bidding by maintaining a fear that he will have Ryd killed if he does not obey.\n\nMury is not forthcoming with his plan, preferring to play a controlling mastermind role - only telling Ryd details as they are necessary for him to know. Mury is willing to kill to accomplish his plan which he does to obtain a guards uniform to carry out his plan.\n\nMury maintains a sense of control through the whole story until the very end when he unexpectedly sees a Martian warship which clearly startles him.\n",
"Mury, which may not be his real name, is a revolutionary man. He makes himself clear at the beginning; he doesn’t care about individuals, but Earthmen as a whole. With a bony face, large nose, and expensive clothing, Mury makes an impression. He’s confident and sure of himself, until the last moment of the story when he is thwarted by the young pilot. \nWhen he picks up Ryd, he uses intimidation tactics and more to influence his decision. He killed one guard along the way up the mountain and possibly another one on the ship. He pretends to be a higher-up of society to sneak onto the ship and succeeds. He believes in Earthmen and revivifying Dynamopolis. He’s driven by halting this power deal between Dynamopolis and Mars to prevent any Earthmen from becoming nothing more than cheap labor. \n"
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and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
another Steel-Blue voice said: "He is a soft-metal creature, made up of metals that melt at a very low temperature. He also contains a liquid whose makeup I cannot ascertain by ray-probe. Bring him back when the torture is done." Jon Karyl grinned a trifle wryly. What kind of torture could this be? Would it last 21 days? He glanced at the chronometer on his wrist. Jon's Steel-Blue led him out of the alien ship and halted expectantly just outside the ship's lock. Jon Karyl waited, too. He thought of the stubray pistol holstered at his hip. Shoot my way
affect you at last? Back to the torture room." "Like R-dust," Jon growled. He pressed the firing stud on the stubray gun. One of Steel-Blue's tentacles broke off and fell to the rocky sward. Steel-Blue jerked out the box he'd used once before. A tentacle danced over it. Abruptly Jon found himself standing on a pinnacle of rock. Steel-Blue had cut a swath around him 15 feet deep and five feet wide. "Back to the room," Steel-Blue commanded. Jon resheathed the stubray pistol, shrugged non-committally and leaped the trench. He walked slowly back and reentered the torture chamber. The Steel-Blues
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Describe the setting of the story.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Saboteur of Space by Robert Abernathy.
Relevant chunks:
started to rise, the wave of blackness warned me, and I restrained my ambition. "I will walk soon." "We will have much to talk about. Your friend has pointed to the stars and told me a strange story of your coming. We have walked around the ship. He has told me how it rides through the sky. I can hardly make myself believe." Tomboldo's eyes cast upward under the strong ridge of forehead where the eyebrows should have been. He was evidently trying to visualize the flight of a space ship. "We will have much to tell each other." "I
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
to kill it. It wouldn't do to go home with a bottle sticking out of his pocket. He stood there in the night wind, sipping at it, and watching the reddish moon come up in the east. The moon looked as phoney as the setting sun. He straightened in sudden determination. It had to be sometime. Get it over with, get it over with now. He opened the fence-gap, slipped through, and closed it firmly behind him. He retrieved his bag, and waded quietly through the tall grass until he reached the hedge which divided an area of sickly peach
men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror. If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
Question:
Describe the setting of the story.
Answer:
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[
"The story takes place in Dynamopolis, a city in North America, in the year 819. The city is flooded with searchlights, although there is very little power to go around. The Terrestrials must gather at the local bar, Stumble Inn, if they do not want to freeze to death. At one point, Dynamopolis was a wealthy city, known as the Port of Ten Thousand Ships. About ten years ago, the Power Company of North America and the Triplanet Freighting Company were shut down, and the majority of the Terrestrials lost their jobs. The only people with political power are the Poligerents, and unless a Terrestrial knows one of them, he or she is likely left without a way to make ends meet. The Terrestrials were recently told that the power will be restored once the power shell is put on Earth. The air is thin, but the Terrestrials have become accustomed to it.\n\nPi Mesa is the spaceport that hovers over the city. There are still unused ships hovering there from the days where it was an important port with lots of action. Just outside of Pi Mesa there are hundreds of low buildings that are abandoned because they are no longer useful. They contain fuel pumps and servicing equipment, and they serve as a constant reminder of the life the Terrestrials once lived. \n\nWhen Ryd and Mury break into the land patrolled by the guards in blue in the spaceport, they find narrow passages, spiral staircases, and cool metal walls covered in dust. The Communications Tower is nearby, and it is guarded by signal-men. The soldier robots that are on patrol are about as tall as the average Terrestrial, and they are scarlet colored. They are unarmed and are mostly there to scare intruders away. \n\nMury and Ryd aim to get on a ship called Shahrazad, which rests on the Number Two Runway, waiting for takeoff. When they enter the ship, they find that the cabin is very hot and full of dials and needles. There is a curved control panel in front, and the ship makes a humming sound because of all of the air-purifiers onboard. \n\nMars is an important setting in the story, although the characters do not actually travel there. Mars is almost airless, so it is very easy to run a helio-dynamic engine. On Mars, they use robots for labor, and due to a law that has been passed, Terrestrials are forced to stay on Earth. \n",
"The story is set in the city of Dynamopolis on Earth in the historic year 819. Dynamopolis was built to be the power center of North America. Earth is in a deep recession with many men out of work for almost a decade because Earth can no longer produce power for the whole planet. Ryd Randl sees a spaceship landing at the unused airstrip just as he enters Burshis’ Stumble Inn. This bar is one of the few businesses with power and is filled with men trying to keep from freezing to death outside because it is freezing at an elevation of 14,000 feet. The bar owner expresses optimism for Earth’s economy with the power cylinder from Mars allowing Earth to turn the power back on for many people. The people on Earth have endured years of unemployment and have lost hope after so many years. ",
"In the future, Earth is a desolate planet reliant on aid from Mars to continue existing. The atmosphere seems to be controlled by technology, as there is reference to a “man-made dawn” rising over the desert. \n\nThe main settings of the story are:\n\nA dark, smoky bar at the Stumble Inn owned by Burshis, located in the city of Dynamopolis which was once the power center of North America.\n\nPi Mesa, a busy spaceport in the desert on Earth that has many runways and a Control Tower. It serves as a place for supply ships to land with aid from Mars. \n\nAboard the martian space towship called Shahrazad that blasts off from Pi Mesa and enters outer space. It has a small crew and is suggested to be a small ship used for towing other cargo.\n\n",
"Saboteur of Space by Robert Abernathy takes place in Dynamopolis in the year 819. Dynamopolis was built to act as the largest power center in North America. But the real question was where they would put it. Humanity had already conquered and filled much of Earth’s territory. So, they built Dynamopolis in the sky, specifically at an altitude of 14,000 feet. \nAround the early 800s, Dynamopolis took a turn for the worse. Despite being the largest power center in North America, Dynamopolis lost its power. Businesses, companies, and factories started shutting down and resources dwindled. Dynamopolis is now desolate and freezing, due to the high altitude and lack of power. The street lamps don’t work and only a few businesses--including Burshis’ Stumble Inn--are allowed to keep the lights and heat on.\n"
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started to rise, the wave of blackness warned me, and I restrained my ambition. "I will walk soon." "We will have much to talk about. Your friend has pointed to the stars and told me a strange story of your coming. We have walked around the ship. He has told me how it rides through the sky. I can hardly make myself believe." Tomboldo's eyes cast upward under the strong ridge of forehead where the eyebrows should have been. He was evidently trying to visualize the flight of a space ship. "We will have much to tell each other." "I
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
to kill it. It wouldn't do to go home with a bottle sticking out of his pocket. He stood there in the night wind, sipping at it, and watching the reddish moon come up in the east. The moon looked as phoney as the setting sun. He straightened in sudden determination. It had to be sometime. Get it over with, get it over with now. He opened the fence-gap, slipped through, and closed it firmly behind him. He retrieved his bag, and waded quietly through the tall grass until he reached the hedge which divided an area of sickly peach
men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror. If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
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Describe the character of Ryd.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Saboteur of Space by Robert Abernathy.
Relevant chunks:
It would take hours to explain. However, I'll just sum it up in one word: politics. Politics, with which Rat had no connection saved him." The girl shook her head, more in sympathy than condemnation. "Are you expecting the others in soon?" she asked. "It wouldn't be right to leave Peterson." "They will be in, in a day or two. Peterson will beat it over to Base station for repairs, and to notify Earth we're coming. He'll be all right." Abruptly she stood up. "Goodnight gentlemen. Call me if I'm needed." Roberds nodded acknowledgement. The door to the side room
provided the answer by alighting at the lip with a jar that shook the ship. He was breathing heavily and lugging something in his arms. The burden groaned. "Gladney!" Nurse Gray exclaimed. "I got." Rat confirmed. "Yes, Gladney. Damn heavy, Gladney." "But how?" she demanded. "What of Roberds and Peterson?" "Trick," he sniggered. "I burn down my shack. Boss run out. I run in. Very simple." He packed Gladney into the remaining hammock and snapped buckles. "And Peterson?" she prompted. "Oh yes. Peterson. So sorry about Peterson. Had to fan him." " Fan him? I don't understand." "Fan. With chair.
looked into the far future. She said, "He is Eric the Bronze. I have no doubt." Eric asked, "And what is this Legend of Eric the Bronze? Why am I so despised in the city?" Kroon answered, "According to the Ancient Legend you will destroy the city. This, and other things." Eric gaped. No wonder the crowd had shown such hatred. But why were the elders so friendly? They were obviously the governing body, and if there was strife between them and the people it had not shown in the respect the crowd had accorded Nolette. Kroon said, "I see
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
blue leopard skin, and he wore a belt with a jeweled short sword. He drew the sword from its scabbard, and bowed forward until the point of the sword touched the street of blue fur. He said, "I give you the welcome of my sword, and the welcome of the city. Speak your name so that it may be set in the records of the dreamers." The music sang, and the spires twinkled, and Eric said, "I am Eric North!" The sword point jerked, and the sentinel straightened. His face was white. He cried aloud, "It is Eric the Bronze.
Question:
Describe the character of Ryd.
Answer:
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[
"Ryd is a resentful and skeptical person because he has been without a job for at least ten years. His only solace comes from drinking at Burshis’ Stumble Inn, where he can pretend that no one knows him and have a nice chat with the bar owner. \n\nHe knows he was a good helio engineer, and he is fully aware that he did not deserve to have his job ripped from his hands. When the bartender suggests that he will have a new job soon, Ryd thinks to himself that anyone who wants to give him a job can screw off. He has been without one for too long to even know how to manage it. \n\nRyd is also skeptical of people around him. When Mury approaches him at the bar, he notices right away that Mury seems out of place in the way that he’s dressed. He also gives Mury an attitude when the man starts a conversation with him. He has learned not to trust many people, so he acts contrary to his natural intuition when he listens to Mury and almost immediately believes he has his best interest in mind.\n\nRyd is not a trained spy or someone who has a lot of experience with committing crimes, so he is very out of place on his mission with Mury. He is jumpy, anxious, and concerned for his safety throughout the job. He is so uncomfortable holding a weapon that he actually drops his flame pistol in a control room and nearly starts a fire. He leaves the dirty work to Mury, and he does not offer to shoot anyone or engage in combat or do anything that isn’t directly asked of him. Ryd goes along for the ride because he is afraid that Mury will kill him if he backs out of the mission, and he also realizes that Mury’s plan may be the only thing that saves men like him from becoming slaves. \n",
"Ryd is a man who lost his job a decade ago and still feels badly about it since he hasn’t been able to find a job since then. He is somewhat angry about losing his job because it wasn’t lost through any wrongdoing on his part but because he was a helio operator, and helios worked much better on Mars. He has a reputation now for asking people for loans, so when they see him, no one wants to look him in the eye for fear that he will ask for yet more money. When the owner of Burshis points out that the power cylinder from Mars will bring back jobs, Ryd acknowledges to himself that there won’t be any jobs for him; he is out of the habit of working now. Ryd has a mostly fearful outlook on life now. When Mury wants to speak with him outside the bar, Ryd is suspicious and worries that Mury might be a police officer. Ryd also feels that no one is sympathetic with him; when he did try to get another job, he was turned down because he wasn’t allied with the Poligerents. After Ryd mentions the power cylinder as the salvation of Earth, Mury lets him know that this view is based on lies because the deal is based on Earth becoming a colony of Mars. When Ryd is reluctant to help Mury, the mention of money helps sway him to help as does the thought that they will kill him now that he knows so much if he doesn’t help. At the same time, Ryd wants to help Mury to win his approval. Ryd goes along with Mury’s plans, not because he believes in the cause but because he is afraid. Ryd remains fearful and uncertain in each part of the plan as they carry it out, and he relies on Mury’s calm, cool demeanor and assurances to keep from falling apart.\n",
"Ryd Randl was a helio operator, who lost his job some time ago. He is struggling like many other people on Earth because of the black out power outages and inability to find work. His eagerness to get new work causes him to take risks, and get involved with Mury’s revolutionary plan. Ryd comes across as a law-abiding Earth citizen who is deeply uncomfortable with the crimes Mury ropes him into, but goes along with them in order to be paid.\n\n",
"Ryd is an Earthman who has been out of work for the past decade. His struggles with finding another job, making enough money to get by, and general hardships have made him somewhat bitter and static. Ryd is first introduced on cold Dynamopolis when he’s entering a pub, knowing he can’t pay for anything. He’s lucky to get his first free drink of the month, and he savors his alcohol. \nAlthough Ryd looked for a new job at first, he soon grew to resent the institution and men that had forced him out of his position. He was a helio operator, and a damn good one according to him, and enjoyed his job. Now, after being out of work for 10 years, he’d rather stick it to the man than beg for a new position. \nThroughout his adventure with Mury, Ryd falters on the occasion. He is not cowardly, but he is certainly not as experienced or as dangerous as Mury. However, since Ryd has nothing to lose--truly, no house, no job, no family--he can do whatever Mury asks him to, though he will pester him with questions along the way. \n"
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It would take hours to explain. However, I'll just sum it up in one word: politics. Politics, with which Rat had no connection saved him." The girl shook her head, more in sympathy than condemnation. "Are you expecting the others in soon?" she asked. "It wouldn't be right to leave Peterson." "They will be in, in a day or two. Peterson will beat it over to Base station for repairs, and to notify Earth we're coming. He'll be all right." Abruptly she stood up. "Goodnight gentlemen. Call me if I'm needed." Roberds nodded acknowledgement. The door to the side room
provided the answer by alighting at the lip with a jar that shook the ship. He was breathing heavily and lugging something in his arms. The burden groaned. "Gladney!" Nurse Gray exclaimed. "I got." Rat confirmed. "Yes, Gladney. Damn heavy, Gladney." "But how?" she demanded. "What of Roberds and Peterson?" "Trick," he sniggered. "I burn down my shack. Boss run out. I run in. Very simple." He packed Gladney into the remaining hammock and snapped buckles. "And Peterson?" she prompted. "Oh yes. Peterson. So sorry about Peterson. Had to fan him." " Fan him? I don't understand." "Fan. With chair.
looked into the far future. She said, "He is Eric the Bronze. I have no doubt." Eric asked, "And what is this Legend of Eric the Bronze? Why am I so despised in the city?" Kroon answered, "According to the Ancient Legend you will destroy the city. This, and other things." Eric gaped. No wonder the crowd had shown such hatred. But why were the elders so friendly? They were obviously the governing body, and if there was strife between them and the people it had not shown in the respect the crowd had accorded Nolette. Kroon said, "I see
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
blue leopard skin, and he wore a belt with a jeweled short sword. He drew the sword from its scabbard, and bowed forward until the point of the sword touched the street of blue fur. He said, "I give you the welcome of my sword, and the welcome of the city. Speak your name so that it may be set in the records of the dreamers." The music sang, and the spires twinkled, and Eric said, "I am Eric North!" The sword point jerked, and the sentinel straightened. His face was white. He cried aloud, "It is Eric the Bronze.
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Saboteur of Space by Robert Abernathy.
Relevant chunks:
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"It’s the year 819, and a man named Ryd Randl who lives in Dynamopolis, a city in North America, goes to a dive bar. The place is crowded with many men because Dynamopolis is experiencing a power shortage, and they would freeze outside. Burshis, the owner of the bar, gives Ryd a free drink and explains that a ship from Mars just brought power back. He is expecting there to be a big boom in the economy soon, which will lead to jobs for people like Ryd. Ryd is not easily convinced of this good news. \nThe ugly and tall man sitting next to Ryd recognizes him. Once outside, Mury introduces himself and asks Ryd if he wants to make some money. He explains that he can offer Ryd a comeback. Ryd has been jobless for ten years, but before that he was a helio operator. Since then, Mars has become fully independent, and all the work moved there. Mury says that he is working for the hundreds of men who have been put out by the corrupt government on Mars. Although Ryd and all the other Earthmen have been told that the new power cylinder being installed will create jobs and bring back the power, Mury argues that isn’t truly the case. He insists that Earthmen are essentially slaves to Mars’s landowners, and in order to stop that from happening, they must stop the power cylinder from landing on Earth. \nThe two men arrive at Pi Mesa, and Mury kills a guard. Ryd steals his clothing and his flame pistol so that they can get on the ship unnoticed. Ryd must pretend to be a guard escorting Mury, the Poligerent of Dynamopolis aboard the Shahrazad. The two men sneak into the controlled area through a metal door, make it to the Communications Tower, and speak with a guard. Mury offers to show his credentials as Poligerent, and surprises the guard with a punch to the gut. Mury takes the officer’s gun, points it at him, and demands he accompany them. \n\nRyd nervously points his flame pistol at the guard and drops his weapon. The weapon goes off and its flame hits some machinery. This gives the pilot pause, and Mury hurries to the control room and takes over the situation. There are three workers there who become his hostages. He explains to the men that he’s taking Shahrazad into space to meet the power shell. \n\nWhen the ship takes off, Ryd passes out from the pressure of the acceleration. When he wakes, Mury assures him that they are on the right path, somewhere near the orbit of the Moon. However, Mury quickly finds out that his masterful plan has been foiled when one of his prisoners, the astrogator, informs him that a ship named the Alboroak is approaching, and it’s about to intercept them. \n",
"The story begins with the landing of a Martian ship on Earth, where electrical power has reached a critical shortage. The Martian ship reportedly carries a power cylinder that will restore power on Earth, enabling businesses to reopen and people to regain their jobs. Ryd Randl sees the ship landing just before he enters the Burshis’ Stumble Inn which has power and where many men are staying to keep from freezing to death outside. Ryd lost his job ten years ago, and apparently, he has asked for loans from many people in the bar because they will not look him in the eye. The bar owner gives him a free drink but refuses to offer him a loan if Ryd asks him for one. A stranger approaches Ryd and seems to know, although Ryd does not know the stranger. The stranger asks Ryd to step outside with him and offers Ryd a way to make money. The stranger’s name is Mury, and he is a Poligerent. Mury claims to be working for all the Earthmen who lost their jobs when the government made a deal with Mars. The Martians have sent a power cylinder to Earth that is supposed to restore power to Earth; however, Mury explains that the people who rule Earth’s nations have sold the planet in exchange for the device because Earth will become a colony of Mars. He claims that the Martians view Earth as a ready labor pool of slaves. Mury wants Ryd to help him prevent the power shell from reaching Earth. Ryd doesn’t want to agree to help but knows that if he doesn’t, Mury will kill him.\n\tMury and Ryd go to the airstrip where the Martian ship and its township have landed. Mury kills a guard and orders Ryd to don the uniform; he plans for Ryd to act as his escort to the towship so that he can go aboard. In their guises, Ryd and Mury make their way to the township unaccosted until one guard becomes suspicious and confronts them. When Mury offers to show him his credentials, Mury hits him in the stomach and brings him aboard the towship. The pilots and an astrogator are in the cockpit when Mury enters and sends the pilots out. The ship takes off, and when it nears the orbit of the Moon, Ryd comes to and asks where they are. Mury and the astrogator notice a bright light on the radar screen which indicates a ship. The astrogator claims it is a ship on a diplomatic mission for Mars, but Mury claims it is a warship because of its speed. He says the ship is looking for them and will intercept them in twenty minutes.\n",
"Some time in the future, Earth has sold the planet to Mars and become a colony of the Red Planet. This causes unrest for laborers who feel Mars is allowing Earth to degrade so that they can export human labor to Mars at very low cost. In the city of Dynamopolis, their main industry is distributing power, which once made them the power center of North America. \n\nThere is a spaceport, Pi Mesa, that receives essential supplies for Earth to continue existing, such as the power cylinder send from Mars as aid to Earth that is rumored to have landed there. The power shell means an end to an electrical blackout the people of Earth are currently suffering from and the creation of jobs for the people of Dynamopolis.\n\nA scary figure named Mury meets Ryd Randl, a helio operator currently out of work, at the Stumble Inn bar in Dynamopolis. Mury forces Ryd into a grand plan to board a Martian spaceship on Pi Mesa to intercept a power shell in outer space and stop it from being delivered to Earth. Mury wishes to start a sort of revolution on Earth for it to become independent from Mars again, and describes that there is an “inescapable conflict” coming between Earth and Mars.\n\nMury and Ryd invade the Pi Mesa spaceport by killing a guard, and taking his clothes to disguise Ryd as a guard escorting Mury. This disguise works for a time until one of the Martian guards senses something is wrong and tries to stop them. They narrowly make it aboard a towship called Shahrazad which they believe is going into space to retrieve a power shell to bring down to Earth. They force the captain and crew into an airlock, except for the astronavigator named Arliess, who Mury forces to continue working by holding their planned course. \n\nWhen they blast off into outer space, Mury spots a Martian warship which may confirm his suspicion that Mars was about to begin a war with Earth. This is where the story ends.\n\n",
"Set in the 800s 14,000 feet in the sky, Ryd Randl gets his first free drink of the month. He walks into Burshis’ Stumble Inn where the bartender, Burshis, hands him a drink. There’s buzz about the arrival of power from Mars. Dynamopolis has been desolate for at least a decade. This center lacked power and many lost their jobs over it. So, this new deal struck with Mars is giving people hope again. Randl laughs it off, however. He was laid off 10 years ago and gave up on finding another job. \nThe beak-nosed, scary man next to him drags Randl outside, after paying for his drink and offering him money. He introduces himself as Mury and proposes a deal. A revolutionary, Mury wants to stop the shipment to protect Earthmen from becoming Martian slaves. He needs Randl’s help, and he’ll pay 50,000 credits. Ryd agrees, and they make the trek to Pi Mesa. Mury kills a guard on the way up, and Ryd changes into his clothes, flame pistol included. Now Mury will pretend to be a Poligerent of Dynamopolis so they can board the Shahrazad. \nThey break into the spaceport successfully and continue on. Their disguises work for the most part, though Ryd’s nervous behavior makes them suspicious. Making their way down the runways, they finally arrive at the Communications Tower. On the tarmac lay Shahrazad, but guards both human and robot were everywhere. They made it onto the airlock before another guard took notice. He rushes after them and asks them who they are. Mury turns and tells him his credentials, then offers to show him ID. He then punches him and disarms him. The guard comes onboard as their captive. At first, the switches don’t work, but Mury calms Ryd down. When the central control panel is cut, then the ship will take off. \nRyd is supposed to be covering the guard when he slips and drops his weapon. The guard picks it up but is soon defeated. Mury forces the young pilot, Yet Arliess, to take off, while he sends the other two men to the airlock. The pilot does as he says, and all is well until Mury notices something on the map. There’s a bright light, one that wasn’t there before. A warship was coming for them, and although Arliess tried to lie, Mury saw straight through it. \n"
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and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
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Who is Captain Linden and what happens to him throughout the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Serpent River by Don Wilcox.
Relevant chunks:
Before they sent him out on this trip they had made him a captain. Well, that was nice. After thirty years he was a captain. For thirty years he had bummed all over the west end of space, had scraped his way along the outer edges of Mankind, had waited and dozed and patrolled and got drunk, waiting always for something to happen. There were a lot of ways to pass the time while you waited for something to happen, and he had done them all. Once he had even studied military tactics. He could not help smiling at that,
appeal about two months ago, Earth reckoning. Since then, no less than a dozen spacecraft—freighters, liners, even one Patrolship—have fallen prey to her wiles. Their crews have been brutally murdered, their cargos stolen." "Wait a minute!" interrupted Chip shrewdly. "How do you know about her if the crews have been murdered?" "She has a habit of locking the controls," explained Haldane, "and setting ravaged ships adrift. Apparently there is no room on her hideout—wherever it is—for empty hulks. One of these ships was salvaged by a courageous cabin-boy who hid from the Lorelei and her pirate band beneath a closetful
and then went out to the ship and joined the men in lightening her. About the ship at least, he knew something and he was able to tell them what partitions and frames could go and what would have to stay or the ship would never get off the planet. But even stripped down, it couldn't take them all. When he knew that, he realized that he himself would have to stay here, for it was only then that he thought of Bossio. Three was dead. Bossio had gone down there some time ago and, if Three was dead and
illusion, and wonder about flappers and hidden traps. When he finally looked back at the island, he was amazed to see how tiny it had grown, as distant as the mainland. Then he saw a gray motorboat astern. He watched it as it slowly overtook him. It was built like a lifeboat, with a sturdy low cabin in the bow and wheel amidship. Whoever was at the wheel had long gray hair that whipped in the wind. The longer he looked, the surer he was that it was a woman wearing a lace dress. Something that stuck up inches over
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
Question:
Who is Captain Linden and what happens to him throughout the story?
Answer:
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[
"Captain Linden is the leader of the first manned expedition from Earth to the planet that is inhabited by the Benzendella people. His sponsorship is from the Earth-Galaxy Good Will Expeditions, \"EGGWE\" for short. Because a previous rover had discovered a mysterious silver river and some humanoid creatures, Linden and his lieutenant were sent to discover more. He hoped that interacting with the humanoids would allow him to learn some cultural significance behind what he referred to as the Serpent River, which he also planned on studying scientifically. After he landed, while Campbell was monitoring the humanoids, he noticed that trees were moving towards the people, and sensed an incoming attack. He ordered Campbell to start a siren from their ship to distract the attackers, and later led the two of them to meet the local Benzendella people. He presented their leader with a token of friendship, a medallion that played music. As another attack started, and a guard fell, Linden tried to tend to the guard but was knocked out and did not regain consciousness for a few weeks. As he slowly healed and felt more normal, he had to warn himself to be careful around Vauna, the Benzendella leader's daughter, who had been watching him at his bedside. She was very beautiful, and he knew it was against mission code to marry locals. ",
"Captain Linden is the leader of the first expedition to the planet. The trip is sponsored by the Earth-Galaxy Good Will Expeditions (EGGWE). From images brought back to Earth by a roving camera, they know that humanoids live on the planet, and there is a huge rope or serpent-like object or creature moving continuously across the surface. He and Split Campbell cautiously land a good distance from the rope-like object in case it is dangerous. Although he is in command, Linden has a good sense of humor and likes to joke with and poke fun at Split; in fact, Linden is the one who gave him his nickname. Linden allows some gray area in following the Code, for example, encouraging Campbell to look through the telescope at the rope before Campbell has finished writing his reports. After exclaiming rather unprofessionally at what he sees, Linden “orders” him to take it easy. The two men are on their first voyage together, and Linden has entertained himself on the journey of millions of miles by teasing Campbell. Linden has been to six other planets, but none of them had beings that were so similar to humans; the ones on the current planet look like the human ancestors from one million years ago, and Linden is very excited about this. Linden senses that the humanoids are friendly and trusts his intuition; this is why he decides to help them when the other group attacks them. He tries to befriend the leader by offering him a singing medallion on a chain, but what really impresses them is the way he and Campbell help them when the attackers return. After the battle, Linden is hit in the head by a rock attached to the club that Gravgak used when Gravgak jumps up after being roused to consciousness. Linden suffers a head injury and is unconscious for several days. While he is recuperating, the humanoid leader’s daughter Vauna cares for him, and he falls in love with her. Linden reminds Campbell of Clause D of the EGGWE Code, which states that none of their agents can marry a native but then admits he is reminding himself of this, not Campbell. When Gravgak states he is ready to talk to Vauna alone, Linden reaches for her hand, letting her know his feelings about her. Her father orders them to come back to the group, and when Tomboldo announces the group is ready to move back to the other part of the world, he invites Linden and Campbell to go with them.\n",
"Captain Jim Linden leads a fact-finding mission on behalf of the EGGWE to discover the identity of a large, silvery, rope-like entity on a planet earmarked for the establishment of an inter-planetary trade agreement. Jim and his partner Split work together to observe the object, and, while doing so, they meet the local people called the Benzendella. Jim is a calm and effective leader; he has captained six similar missions in the past and is experienced in interacting with native populations in order to establish strong relationships for the EGGWE. This experience comes to bear when a hostile group attacks the Benzendellas, and Jim uses this as an opportunity to assist them with his ship's siren. This interaction establishes trust with the Benzendellas, and he moves to deepen that trust by giving a peace gift-- a music-playing medallion. After Jim and Split help save the Benzendellas from a second attack and revive Gravgak when he is wounded, the Benzendellas provide Jim and Split a place to stay as Jim recovers from his own injury. During his state of unconsciousness, Jim learns the Benzendella language and falls in love with Vauna, Tomboldo's daughter.",
"Captain Linden is a member of the Earth-Galaxy Good Will Expeditions (EGGWE) and Lieteuant “Split” Campbell’s superior officer. He is a confident man and loves teasing Split. After having been on one expedition before, Linden and Split were ready to arrive on this planet and investigate the Serpent River. As they look out at the seemingly-barren world through their telescope, Linden notices people emerging from underground. He watches in awe as they all gather around one man and a woman, seemingly about to perform some sort of ritual. The shadows of the trees move, but he sees nothing abnormal about this. Warriors rush out of the trees to attack the Benzendella, so Captian Linden saves them by having Split press the siren button, #16. He uses the EGGWE code of conduct when addressing the leader, Tomboldo, and offers him a gift. They are invited underground to their home but are attacked by the warriors again before they can descend. Gravgak is injured, so Linden and Split try to take care of him. When he awakens, he smashes his club into Linden’s head, possibly on purpose. \nLinden wakes, days later, underground with Vauna by his side. Vauna is Tomboldo’s daughter, and Linden quickly develops feelings for her. The EGGWE code forbids its members to marry any natives, and he reminds himself of that. \nHe speaks with Tomboldo and Gravgak, the latter of which explains that it was an accident, though the look in his eyes and his tone of voice says otherwise. Tomboldo invites Linden and Split to join them on their journey aboard the Serpent River, as they travel across the planet looking for safety. \n"
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Before they sent him out on this trip they had made him a captain. Well, that was nice. After thirty years he was a captain. For thirty years he had bummed all over the west end of space, had scraped his way along the outer edges of Mankind, had waited and dozed and patrolled and got drunk, waiting always for something to happen. There were a lot of ways to pass the time while you waited for something to happen, and he had done them all. Once he had even studied military tactics. He could not help smiling at that,
appeal about two months ago, Earth reckoning. Since then, no less than a dozen spacecraft—freighters, liners, even one Patrolship—have fallen prey to her wiles. Their crews have been brutally murdered, their cargos stolen." "Wait a minute!" interrupted Chip shrewdly. "How do you know about her if the crews have been murdered?" "She has a habit of locking the controls," explained Haldane, "and setting ravaged ships adrift. Apparently there is no room on her hideout—wherever it is—for empty hulks. One of these ships was salvaged by a courageous cabin-boy who hid from the Lorelei and her pirate band beneath a closetful
and then went out to the ship and joined the men in lightening her. About the ship at least, he knew something and he was able to tell them what partitions and frames could go and what would have to stay or the ship would never get off the planet. But even stripped down, it couldn't take them all. When he knew that, he realized that he himself would have to stay here, for it was only then that he thought of Bossio. Three was dead. Bossio had gone down there some time ago and, if Three was dead and
illusion, and wonder about flappers and hidden traps. When he finally looked back at the island, he was amazed to see how tiny it had grown, as distant as the mainland. Then he saw a gray motorboat astern. He watched it as it slowly overtook him. It was built like a lifeboat, with a sturdy low cabin in the bow and wheel amidship. Whoever was at the wheel had long gray hair that whipped in the wind. The longer he looked, the surer he was that it was a woman wearing a lace dress. Something that stuck up inches over
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Serpent River by Don Wilcox.
Relevant chunks:
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"Captain Linden and his lieutenant \"Split\" Campbell make up the first manned expedition from Earth to this particular planet, aiming to investigate a large silver river on its surface. The seemingly-endless silvery strip that traveled the planet's surface was unidentifiable as of yet. They see the river-like thing early on, but Campbell spots a humanoid through his telescope--this being is much like a human man, including the fact that he wore clothing. Captain Linden decides it's time for introductions, as if he senses he can trust this being, but they watch as a female and then many other people join the first man on the surface, seemingly coming out of an underground city. Linden and Campbell think their ship is out of sight, and watch a ritual that the man is performing to the setting sun. The crowd of people continues to increase, and Linden notices that the landscape is moving: trees are shifting in the ground. He and Campbell stay in the ship and observe the various types of clothing and the ritual itself, as well as the moving trees which seemed to be moving to attack the people. They are indeed warriors starting an attack, and started swinging weapons. Linden tells Campbell to start the siren on their ship to scare away the attackers, and the first man they'd seen, presumably the leader, starts towards the ship. Once they are close enough, it is obvious that the humanoids don't have eyebrows or eye lashes. Captain Linden hands the leader a medallion that plays a song, as a token of friendship. Tomboldo, the leader, starts a round of introductions through a lot of gesturing. Linden hopes to learn about the Serpent River through the people to understand its cultural significance, and these people start to ask about the siren noises. The warriors attack again and panic ensues, pushing the humans to use weapons this time. Gravgak, the guard who had been escorting the humans, is knocked down. As Linden tries to tend to him, Gravgak knocks him out with his club. Linden is unconscious for a few weeks, and Vauna, Tomboldo's daughter, spends a lot of time by the Captian's side. Linden reminds Campbell that they weren't allowed to marry anyone from this planet, but mostly in an effort to warn himself to be careful around Vauna. He learns that these people are called the Benzendellas. Tomboldo is baffled by the technology that the humans have, but Linden is not able to communicate his questions about the Serpent River. He sees Gravgak, who apologizes for the accidental injury, but from Vauna's reaction Linden is not sure if he is telling the truth. Gravgak insists on talking to Vauna in private, but Vauna's father calls them back. It is Tomboldo's thanks to the humans that gives a glimpse into the meaning of the Serpent River: he says the humans will ride with them on the rope of life, which they call Kao-Wagwattl.",
"The story relates the experience of two agents who travel to an unnamed planet for Earth-Galaxy Good Will Expeditions (EGGWE). An unmanned camera has brought pictures from the planet back to Earth, showing two features of particular interest: 1) a human-like species, the Benzendella, living there, and 2) a rope-like, silvery undulating river. Captain Linden is the commander of the mission; his lieutenant is “Split” Campbell. After traveling millions of miles to reach the planet, the men land and use their telescope to check their surroundings before alighting from the spaceship. They see the river and the human-like beings who look like human ancestors from a million years ago. As they watch, the leader of the humans seems to perform a kind of ritual, but then, Linden notices some trees moving uphill and watches in horror as warriors toss the trees aside and launch an attack on the humans using clubs or whips with stones tied to the ends. To avert a massacre, Linden orders Campbell to hit the siren, which startles the attackers so that they retreat. Linden and Campbell then approach the people and give the leader, Tomboldo, a musical medallion on a chain. Introductions are exchanged, and some of the humans make the siren sound, indicating they want to hear it again, but the attackers return. Linden throws a capsule bomb at them, making them fall back briefly, but they quickly resume their attack. Finally, Linden and Campbell throw fire at the attackers, wounding many of them, and they retreat. One of the Benzendella men who acts as a guard, Gravgak, is injured, and Linden and Campbell treat and wrap his wounds; when they finish, they use smelling salts to rouse him, and he jumps up swinging one of the clubs he has picked up. The rock on the end of it hits Linden, causing a head injury and knocking him unconscious. While he is recuperating, Tomboldo’s daughter Vauna takes care of him, and when Linden regains consciousness, he falls in love with her and has to remind himself of Clause D of the EGGWE Code that restricts marriage between agents and natives. Gravgak visits him to say that he did not intentionally hit Linden with the rock, but Linden doubts his sincerity. Gravgak then orders Vauna to speak with him in private, but her father stops them to announce that the council has decided they will move back to the other part of their world. They will travel on the rope river and want Linden and Campbell to go with them.\n",
"Captain Jim Linden and \"Split\" Campbell travel to a planet previously photographed by unmanned rovers as representatives of the EGGWE, the Earth-Galaxy Good Will Expeditions. Thier purpose is to study new planets and forge peaceful relationships with native inhabitants in order to establish trade partnerships. The Keynes-Roy cameras had captured images of humanoid natives as well as a massive, silvery \"rope\" that appeared to move along the planet's surfaces, so Linden and Campbell hope to identify the \"rope.\" They station at a safe distance from it, since they are unsure of its purpose, and, during their observations, they witness a group of native Benzendella emerge from their underground city for some kind of sunset ritual. As the group gathers around their leader--a muscular individual clothed in a cream-colored robe and red headdress--Jim and Split notice a group of trees drifting slowly over the sand towards the Benzendellas. They quickly realize the trees disguise a hostile group intending to ambush the natives. When they throw off their disguises and begin to charge, Split triggers one of the ship's sirens, and the attackers retreat back to the trees. Jim and Split walk to meet the group's leader, Tomboldo, and they offer a gift as a gesture of good will. Tomboldo has a guard, Gravgak, protect them as they make their way back to the city, and Gravgak tells them to mimic the ship's siren in order to keep the attackers at bay. However, the antagonists attack again, and Jim deploys one of his capsule bombs. Gravgak retrieves one of the attacker's clubs and runs towards them. Jim cannot decide if this is a bold move to protect the Benzendellas or a kind of warning about Jim's weapons, which would reveal Gravgak's loyalties might not be completely steadfast. When Gravgak is injured in the ensuing battle, Jim and Split revive him, and Gravgak impulsively grabs the club again and whacks Jim with it, leaving him in a state of unconsciousness. For a length of time, Jim remains in this comatose state, drifting in and out of consciousness as Split plays records of the Benzendella language and Tomboldo's daughter, Vauna, helps nurse him back to health. During this period, Jim realizes he has developed strong feelings for Vauna, and she seems to share these emotions. He tells Split to remind him of the EGGWE's Code of Conduct which bars adherents from marrying natives on planets they explore. When he awakens, Gravgak apologizes although Jim suspects the apology is insincere, and that he is either jealous of his relationship to Vauna or he is, in fact, a traitor to the Benzendellas. Tomboldo announces that because of the threat to their people, they will use the silvery \"rope of life\" called Kao-Wagwattl to find another spot to live on the planet and bring Jim and Split with them.",
"Captain Linden and his awkward and studious lieutenant “Split” Campbell arrive as the first human expedition on a strange planet. They are members of the Earth-Galaxy Good Will Expeditions (EGGWE) and Split followed their rules dutifully. Thanks to photographs, they are aware that this planet is inhabited by human-like creatures and that there is a large, serpent-like thing running through it. They land on the planet and peer through the telescope. Soon, a man and a woman rise up from the earth and stand on top of the flat, empty rock to watch the sunset. They are joined by more and more people, around 40 eventually. Split and Linden watch in awe as the leader, a man in robes and a headdress, performs some sort of ritual. Linden notices that the trees are moving towards them, nothing too unusual. He’d seen sponge-trees before on other planets. However, these trees were being used as a cover for an attack. A horde of naked warriors rushes out with clubs and circles the ceremony. Linden orders Split to hit #16, and a siren wails out from their spaceship. It shakes the warriors to their core, and they retreat. Split and Linden gather up their supplies and exit the ship. The leader, having noticed their ship during the wailing, makes his way towards them. With 10-minutes left on the wailing, Linden believes they should be safe, but they carry small bombs (specifically special-purpose capsule bombs) with them as well. \nAs they get closer, Split notices how human these creatures look, aside from the lack of eyebrows and eyelashes. Linden offers their leader a gift, a singing necklace in the shape of a coin that plays “Trail of Stars” when pressed. The leader introduces himself as Tomboldo, and each member follows. Gravgak is introduced, a large, muscular alien covered in green and black painted diamonds, and he is tasked with protecting Linden and Split. Tomboldo invites them underground, where they can speak safely. They agree, needing to know more about the Serpent River. \nThey start wailing, just like the siren, in the hopes that it would keep the attackers at bay. However, the sponge-trees started moving again and danger struck. Linden and Split threw their bombs at the warriors and took them down, but not quick enough. Gravgak was injured and lay on the ground. Split and Linden bandaged him, and when he woke up, he “accidentally” hit Linden over the head with his club. \nLinden is taken care of by Vauna, Tomboldo’s daughter, and her assistant, Omosla. He was very injured, even needing surgery performed by Split. Eventually, his health is restored and he’s caught feelings for Vauna, despite Section Four Clause D of the conduct of EGGWE. Vauna and Gravgak are potentially in a relationship, but Tomboldo does not approve. The Benzendella are sleep-singers and their song echoes in the night. Tomboldo invites Linden and Split to accompany his people on a journey to safety aboard the Kao-Wagwattl, or the Serpent River. "
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and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
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What is the significance of the siren?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Serpent River by Don Wilcox.
Relevant chunks:
disaster or death. He sent out the call letters. "AX to SP-101 ... AX to SP-101 ... AX to SP-101 ..." Three times he sent the call, then began sending his message, hoping that his signal was reaching the ship. He couldn't know if they answered. Though the power pack could get out a message over a vast distance, it could not pick up messages even when backed by an SP ship's power unless the ship was only a few hundred miles away. The power pack was strictly a distress signal. He didn't know how long he'd been sending, nor
touched the water to his lips. It was cool and satisfying. He drank it, convinced completely. Eric asked, "And I am to destroy the City?" "Yes. The time has come." "But why?" Eric demanded. For an instant he could see the twinkling beauty as clearly as if he had stood outside the walls of this building. Kroon said, "There are difficulties. The machine builds according to the mass will of the people, though it is sensitive to the individual in areas where it does not conflict with the imagination of the mass. We have had strangers, visitors, and even our
A pause. "Please come in!" The voice was silent. The air screamed against the hull of the ship. "I can't tell them," said the man. "Please come in!" said the radio. "Do you hear me?" The woman looked up at the man. "You've got to Michael!" "Two thousand years. From one end of the galaxy to the other. Not one grain of dust we can live on. Just Earth. And it's burned to a cinder." A note of hysteria stabbed into the radio voice. "Are you all right? Stand by! We're sending a rescue ship." "They've got a right to
across the front of the robot, all the way down to the base of the trunk. If they were numbers, Steffens thought, then it was a remarkably complicated system. But he noticed the same pattern on the nearer robots, all apparently identical. He was forced to conclude that the symbols were merely decoration and let it go tentatively at that, although the answer seemed illogical. It wasn't until he was on his way home that Steffens remembered the symbols again. And only then did he realized what they were. After a while, convinced that there was no danger, Steffens had
Orphans of the Void By MICHAEL SHAARA Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Finding a cause worth dying for is no great trick—the Universe is full of them. Finding one worth living for is the genuine problem! In the region of the Coal Sack Nebula, on the dead fourth planet of a star called Tyban, Captain Steffens of the Mapping Command stood counting buildings. Eleven. No, twelve. He wondered if there was any significance in
Question:
What is the significance of the siren?
Answer:
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[
"When Linden and Campbell arrive at the planet, they are primarily interested in the snaking silver rope that travels around the continent like a river, but they notice some people seemingly coming from underground. As these people were performing a ritual, the humans noticed an impending attack from a different group, but didn't want to use weapons so they started a siren on their ship to distract the attackers. This siren did scare these attackers off for a while, and when Linden and Campbell started trying to communicate with the Benzendella people the only thing the Benzendellas could say was an imitation of the siren noise. It was this siren that saved the people from the initial attack, and thus made these people trust the humans, but was also the beginning of their attempts at communication. In an indirect way, using this siren is how the humans ended up with a chance to ask the Benzendella people about the Serpent River that they came to learn more about. ",
"Captain Linden and Split Campbell use the sirens to scare away the attackers in the sponge trees to protect the Benzendella people. Because the people on the planet don’t have advanced technology, they don’t know what causes the sound of the siren, and it startles them so much that they pull back their attack. Linden and Campbell likely avert a massacre because the attackers in the trees are armed with clubs and whips with stones tied to the ends; taking their quarry by surprise with these weapons would put them at a distinct advantage. The Benzendella were engaged in some type of ritual and were unarmed when the attackers surprised them. Once the Benzendella realize the two men were responsible for the siren that saved them from the attack, they are willing to meet them close up. When the Benzendella speak to them, they make the siren sounds and seem to want the men to cause them to sound again. When the warriors launch another attack, Linden and Campbell throw a capsule bomb at them, making them drop back again, but once again, they push forward. Linden and Campbell throw fire at the warriors, making the rock break and fly up and hit them. Some of the warriors are killed or disabled, and the rest flee. So the siren is the start of a friendship between the two men on the expedition and the native people of the planet.\n",
"When the tree-disguised attackers descend upon the Benzendellas, Jim orders Split to trigger the \"number sixteen siren\", which emits a loud wail and causes the attackers to retreat. Jim and Split set the siren to ten minutes as they begin their half-mile hike to meet Tomboldo and his party. This offers them some security as they walk in addition to their stash of capsule bombs. Fearing another attack, Tomboldo and his crew of guards and officials mimic the siren sound as they make their way back to their city in order to ward off their enemies. While the legitimate siren sound keeps the attackers away, the copycat sound made by Tomboldo's people does not fool them, and they attack once more. This gives Jim the opportunity to deploy his capsule bombs, and Gravgak's actions in response lead him to further question the loyalty of Tomboldo's guard. Jim also winds up in a state of unconsciousness as a result of the attack, and this is how he meets and falls in love with Tomboldo's daughter Vauna.",
"The siren saves the lives of the Benzendella people. As the sponge-tree warriors attacked them, Captain Linden ordered Split to hit #16, the siren. The sound pierced the sunset and caused the warriors to retreat. After saving the Benzendella, Tomboldo is indebted to Linden and Split. He invites them to their home underground and eventually on a trip across the Serpent River. \nThe siren is the beginning of the relationship between the humans and the Benzendella. Their gratitude allows Linden and Split to become their friends and acquaintances. The siren also showed how vulnerable the Benzendella are to attack when on the surface of the planet. Later, the Benzedella attempt to mimic the siren in an attempt to keep the warriors at bay. \n"
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disaster or death. He sent out the call letters. "AX to SP-101 ... AX to SP-101 ... AX to SP-101 ..." Three times he sent the call, then began sending his message, hoping that his signal was reaching the ship. He couldn't know if they answered. Though the power pack could get out a message over a vast distance, it could not pick up messages even when backed by an SP ship's power unless the ship was only a few hundred miles away. The power pack was strictly a distress signal. He didn't know how long he'd been sending, nor
touched the water to his lips. It was cool and satisfying. He drank it, convinced completely. Eric asked, "And I am to destroy the City?" "Yes. The time has come." "But why?" Eric demanded. For an instant he could see the twinkling beauty as clearly as if he had stood outside the walls of this building. Kroon said, "There are difficulties. The machine builds according to the mass will of the people, though it is sensitive to the individual in areas where it does not conflict with the imagination of the mass. We have had strangers, visitors, and even our
A pause. "Please come in!" The voice was silent. The air screamed against the hull of the ship. "I can't tell them," said the man. "Please come in!" said the radio. "Do you hear me?" The woman looked up at the man. "You've got to Michael!" "Two thousand years. From one end of the galaxy to the other. Not one grain of dust we can live on. Just Earth. And it's burned to a cinder." A note of hysteria stabbed into the radio voice. "Are you all right? Stand by! We're sending a rescue ship." "They've got a right to
across the front of the robot, all the way down to the base of the trunk. If they were numbers, Steffens thought, then it was a remarkably complicated system. But he noticed the same pattern on the nearer robots, all apparently identical. He was forced to conclude that the symbols were merely decoration and let it go tentatively at that, although the answer seemed illogical. It wasn't until he was on his way home that Steffens remembered the symbols again. And only then did he realized what they were. After a while, convinced that there was no danger, Steffens had
Orphans of the Void By MICHAEL SHAARA Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Finding a cause worth dying for is no great trick—the Universe is full of them. Finding one worth living for is the genuine problem! In the region of the Coal Sack Nebula, on the dead fourth planet of a star called Tyban, Captain Steffens of the Mapping Command stood counting buildings. Eleven. No, twelve. He wondered if there was any significance in
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Who is Gravgak and what is his importance to the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Serpent River by Don Wilcox.
Relevant chunks:
own far flung kind to return." Eric nodded. He asked, "What happens now?" "Nothing. Dwell here with us and you will be safe from our people. If the prediction is not soon fulfilled and you are not the Eric of the Legend, you may stay or go as you desire." "My brother, Garve. What about him?" "He loves the city. He will also stay, though he will be outside this building." Kroon clasped his hands. "Nolette, will you show Eric his quarters?"
Everything all right. I apologized." Rat finished up and was walking back to the lock. They heard a slight rustling of wings as he padded away. He was back instantly, duplicating his feat of a short time ago. Cursing shouts were slung on the night air, and the deadly spang of bullets bounced on the hull! Some entered the lock. The Centaurian snapped it shut. Chunks of lead continued to pound the ship. Rat leaped for the pilot's chair, heavily, a wing drooping. "You've been hurt!" Gray cried. A small panel light outlined his features. She tried to struggle up.
affect you at last? Back to the torture room." "Like R-dust," Jon growled. He pressed the firing stud on the stubray gun. One of Steel-Blue's tentacles broke off and fell to the rocky sward. Steel-Blue jerked out the box he'd used once before. A tentacle danced over it. Abruptly Jon found himself standing on a pinnacle of rock. Steel-Blue had cut a swath around him 15 feet deep and five feet wide. "Back to the room," Steel-Blue commanded. Jon resheathed the stubray pistol, shrugged non-committally and leaped the trench. He walked slowly back and reentered the torture chamber. The Steel-Blues
she guiltily told herself, and it was his tremendous vitality.... It was like meeting a movie hero in the flesh, or a hero out of the pages of a book—Deer-slayer, John Clayton, Lord Greystoke. She waited in the doorway to the laboratory and made no move to join them, merely acknowledged the two with a nod and a smile and a casual lift of the hand. They nodded and smiled back. "Hello, June," said Pat and continued telling his tale, but as they passed he lightly touched her arm. "Oh, pioneer!" she said mockingly and softly to his passing profile,
for breaking the Law of Contact or for dereliction of duty. And there was also the possibility, which abruptly occurred to him, that the robots might well be prepared to blow his ship to hell and gone. He stopped in the center of the deck. A whole new line of thought opened up. If the robots were armed and ready ... could this be an outpost? An outpost! He turned and raced for the bridge. If he went in and landed and was lost, then the League might never know in time. If he went in and stirred up trouble....
Question:
Who is Gravgak and what is his importance to the story?
Answer:
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[
"Gravgak is a guard who serves under Tomboldo, the leader of the Benzendella people, and escorts the humans after they meet. He is tall and muscular, with piercing eyes, and his limbs are painted with diamonds in green and black. He is knocked down during the second attack, and when Linden tries to tend to him, Gravgak knocks him out with his club. After Linden comes to a few weeks later, Gravgak apologizes for accidentally knocking him out, but it's not clear if he is being sincere about it being an accident. Linden's suspicions primarily come from Vauna's reaction, but Gravgak seems to hold some power over Vauna and Linden is not able to learn what Gravgak's true intentions are. ",
"Gravgak is one of the native Benzendella people. He is a tall guard with green and black diamonds painted on his legs. Tomboldo, the leader of the Benzendella, relies on Gravgak to make sure the group can travel safely to their dwellings after the initial attack, but Gravgak is more interested in the siren and trying to communicate with Linden and Campbell. When the sponge-tree warriors regroup and attack again, he grabs one of their clubs and confronts them as they advance—either rushing to fight them or to warn them to back away. When Linden and Campbell throw fire at the enemy, he is so close that the fire and blasts of rock knock him down. He looks suspiciously at Linden as he and Campbell minister to his wounds and use smelling salts to make Gravgak fully conscious, making him jump up while holding the club and sending the rock attached to the club flying into Linden’s head. Several days later after Linden comes to, Gravgak comes to see him and tells him the blow to Linden’s head was not intentional. Vauna appears not to believe him. As Gravgak leaves, he tells Vauna he wants to speak to her alone. Linden stops her until Gravgak yells at her, and she starts to leave with him; this time, her father stops them. Linden wonders if Gravgak and Vauna have a relationship, but he also considers the possibility that Gravgak is a traitor. \n\n",
"Gravgak is one of Tomboldo's most important guards. He is tall and muscular, and his legs and arms are covered with green and black diamond paintings. Jim notices his eyes first, which appear piercing and suspicious to him, and Gravgak continues to arouse his suspicions throughout the story. Gravgak keeps watch for the tree-disguised warriors and guards Jim and Split on their way back to the underground city. However, he shows signs of agitation and distraction and commands the two men to mimic the siren sounds along with the rest of Tomboldo's party. When the attackers once again descend upon their party and Jim throws a capsule bomb at them, Gravgak retrieves one of their clubs and charges. Jim interprets this behavior to mean one of two things--either Gravgak bravely defends his people or he intends to warn the attackers of Jim and Split's advanced weaponry. After another of Jim's capsule bombs injures Gravgak, Jim and Split attempt to attend to his wounds and resuscitate him. When he regains consciousness, he clubs Jim and knocks him out. After Jim recovers, Gravgak visits him to apologize, but Jim isn't sure if the attack was accidental, especially because Vauna doesn't seem to trust Gravgak. Vauna appears to be in some kind of relationship with Gravgak, whether as a lover or some kind of subservient. While this is not completely clear to Jim, he is certain that Vauna's distrust of Gravgak strengthens his feeling that Gravgak is a traitor.",
"Gravgak is one of the main sources of conflict and betrayal in this story. Gravgak is a very large warrior of the Benzendella people. He is strong and muscular. His arms and legs are painted with green and black diamonds. When Captain Linden first meets him, he describes Gravgak’s piercing eyes as suspicious. His motives are never truly known, but his actions betray him. \nAfter Linden and Split meet Tomboldo, Gravgak is sent to guard them. He rushes into battle and gets injured. Linden and Split heal him, but when he wakes up, he hits Linden over the head with a club. Whether or not he did that on purpose is up in the air. The injury Linden sustained required surgery and days of bed rest. It could have killed him. \nOnce Linden wakes up, Gravgak returns and aggressively demands Linden to get better. He claims that he did not mean to hit him on the head, but everyone doubts his sincerity and integrity. Even Vauna, Tomboldo’s daughter and Linden’s crush, does not believe Gravgak. However, she is bound to him in some way, perhaps by marriage, but her father comes first. Possibly a traitor, Linden will forever question Gravgak’s actions. \n"
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own far flung kind to return." Eric nodded. He asked, "What happens now?" "Nothing. Dwell here with us and you will be safe from our people. If the prediction is not soon fulfilled and you are not the Eric of the Legend, you may stay or go as you desire." "My brother, Garve. What about him?" "He loves the city. He will also stay, though he will be outside this building." Kroon clasped his hands. "Nolette, will you show Eric his quarters?"
Everything all right. I apologized." Rat finished up and was walking back to the lock. They heard a slight rustling of wings as he padded away. He was back instantly, duplicating his feat of a short time ago. Cursing shouts were slung on the night air, and the deadly spang of bullets bounced on the hull! Some entered the lock. The Centaurian snapped it shut. Chunks of lead continued to pound the ship. Rat leaped for the pilot's chair, heavily, a wing drooping. "You've been hurt!" Gray cried. A small panel light outlined his features. She tried to struggle up.
affect you at last? Back to the torture room." "Like R-dust," Jon growled. He pressed the firing stud on the stubray gun. One of Steel-Blue's tentacles broke off and fell to the rocky sward. Steel-Blue jerked out the box he'd used once before. A tentacle danced over it. Abruptly Jon found himself standing on a pinnacle of rock. Steel-Blue had cut a swath around him 15 feet deep and five feet wide. "Back to the room," Steel-Blue commanded. Jon resheathed the stubray pistol, shrugged non-committally and leaped the trench. He walked slowly back and reentered the torture chamber. The Steel-Blues
she guiltily told herself, and it was his tremendous vitality.... It was like meeting a movie hero in the flesh, or a hero out of the pages of a book—Deer-slayer, John Clayton, Lord Greystoke. She waited in the doorway to the laboratory and made no move to join them, merely acknowledged the two with a nod and a smile and a casual lift of the hand. They nodded and smiled back. "Hello, June," said Pat and continued telling his tale, but as they passed he lightly touched her arm. "Oh, pioneer!" she said mockingly and softly to his passing profile,
for breaking the Law of Contact or for dereliction of duty. And there was also the possibility, which abruptly occurred to him, that the robots might well be prepared to blow his ship to hell and gone. He stopped in the center of the deck. A whole new line of thought opened up. If the robots were armed and ready ... could this be an outpost? An outpost! He turned and raced for the bridge. If he went in and landed and was lost, then the League might never know in time. If he went in and stirred up trouble....
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Describe the setting of the story.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about What is POSAT? by Phyllis Sterling Smith.
Relevant chunks:
started to rise, the wave of blackness warned me, and I restrained my ambition. "I will walk soon." "We will have much to talk about. Your friend has pointed to the stars and told me a strange story of your coming. We have walked around the ship. He has told me how it rides through the sky. I can hardly make myself believe." Tomboldo's eyes cast upward under the strong ridge of forehead where the eyebrows should have been. He was evidently trying to visualize the flight of a space ship. "We will have much to tell each other." "I
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
to kill it. It wouldn't do to go home with a bottle sticking out of his pocket. He stood there in the night wind, sipping at it, and watching the reddish moon come up in the east. The moon looked as phoney as the setting sun. He straightened in sudden determination. It had to be sometime. Get it over with, get it over with now. He opened the fence-gap, slipped through, and closed it firmly behind him. He retrieved his bag, and waded quietly through the tall grass until he reached the hedge which divided an area of sickly peach
men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror. If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
Question:
Describe the setting of the story.
Answer:
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[
"“What is POSAT?” takes place in an unspecified city. Three of the characters, Bill, Elizabeth, and Don, lead ordinary lives and hold typical jobs. Don is a physicist, and the laboratory he works at is located about 100 miles away from the POSAT headquarters. \n\nThe POSAT headquarters is the main setting described in the story. It is located at the end of an alley in an unassuming warehouse, next to a wholesale pharmacy, an upholstery shop, and a printer’s plant. The building is almost entirely windowless, and the only sign that the secret society is housed there is the organization’s emblem on its door. \n\nVisitors enter a dark room with a staircase. A buzzer goes off to let the employees of POSAT know that someone has arrived. The reception room is dusty and highly unimpressive. The wallpaper and rugs are worn out and gray, and the woman who works at the beat-up reception desk is average looking. \n\nThe next room that some visitors are allowed access to is entirely different from the first. There are gorgeous Renaissance paintings on the walls, framed with ornate gold decoration and lit up with individual lights. The rug is lush, and the room is impeccably clean. \n\nFinally, when visitors are invited to meet with the Grand Chairman, they must enter a balcony area located in the interior of the warehouse. There is a frosted glass door with the Grand Chairman’s name on it. On the lower floor, there is a laboratory that is visible from the balcony. The lab contains advanced equipment that is not available anywhere else in the world. It also houses an atomic reactor that is shielded by a bluish-green invention that is about an inch thick The shield is semi-transparent but also incredibly strong. Beneath the balcony, down a steep flight of stairs, there is a gigantic computing machine. Everything that goes on in the POSAT building must remain confidential, and very few individuals are told the secrets of the ancient society. \n",
"The primary setting in this story is that of the POSAT headquarters. Hidden in a back alley in a warehouse district, it proved hard to find for Donald when he was invited for an interview. In this same warehouse are a number of businesses, including a pharmacy where POSAT places Bill with a job. The first room in the POSAT headquarters is a dingy waiting room, which acts as a facade or screening room of sorts so that they do not show their hand to people they are not sure will want to enter the organization. The real waiting room is a gorgeous, ornate room with Renaissance paintings on the walls, part of the personal collection of POSAT's founder. There was a beautiful rug on the floor, some filing cabinets, and some curious fluorescent lights that seemed more advanced that Donald figured possible. Past this room, the Grand Chairman has an office that is also ornate, with a frosted glass door, but between this office and the waiting room there is a balcony. This balcony acts like a bridge between the two rooms over a laboratory. This laboratory is visible from this walkway and is full of extremely advanced technology that Donald is not able to identify by sight, as it is beyond its time. Even the glass-like substance acting as a shielding window between him and the laboratory is too thin to be a substance known by his contemporaries. ",
"The story centers on three main characters who separately discover the advertisements of the POSAT in different locations. Bill Evans discovers it while reading through a magazine left on a bus seat. Elizabeth Arnable finds the advertisement in the Antivivisectionist Gazette, which she reads in a room with her many cats and a radio. Don Alford receives his invitation to meet with the Grand Chairman of POSAT, which is located nearly one hundred miles away from his home. The POSAT headquarters calls a giant, sprawling warehouse home. The concrete, windowless warehouse covers an entire city block and also houses a printer's plant, upholstering shop, and a pharmacy where Bill Evans finds new employment. Several alleys make way for loading platforms at various locations around the warehouse as well. Don Alford finds the entrance to POSAT at the back of an alley, and he enters through a frosted glass door and walks up a dark, murky stairwell to a dingy reception room. The room Don enters beyond the reception area, however, is ornately decorated with rugs and paintings from the Renaissance periods. Bright tubes light the paintings from above, which astonishes Don because they are neither battery-powered nor wired to anything. His meeting with the Grand Chairman of POSAT takes place outside the room with the paintings on a balcony overlooking the vast warehouse interior. Looking out upon the warehouse floor, Don observes several men appearing to conduct experiments in some kind of laboratory populated with scientific instruments he has never before seen (except for an atomic reactor obscured by a bluish-green plastic). At the bottom of another flight of stairs, Dr. Crandon shows Don the world's largest computer, which was used to analyze his questionnaire results and may be used to predict and motivate human behavior.",
"What is POSAT? by Phyllis Sterling Smith takes place in several different settings. However, much of it takes place in the POSAT headquarters itself. A long dark stairway leads to the receptionist’s room. It’s dusty and a little unattractive, but the window that lets in sunlight helps hide that fact. The waiting room is grand and luxurious, filled with ancient, Renaissance paintings and ornate gilding. The paintings were lit up from the bottom by contained radioactive lights. The headquarters has a laboratory in it as well, filled with previously uninvented equipment, such as an atomic reactor. Scientists and worker bees are hard at work, studiously bent over their equipment. In the basement rests a supercomputer equipped with the ability to understand humans based on their answers to multiple-choice questions or the papers they write. "
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started to rise, the wave of blackness warned me, and I restrained my ambition. "I will walk soon." "We will have much to talk about. Your friend has pointed to the stars and told me a strange story of your coming. We have walked around the ship. He has told me how it rides through the sky. I can hardly make myself believe." Tomboldo's eyes cast upward under the strong ridge of forehead where the eyebrows should have been. He was evidently trying to visualize the flight of a space ship. "We will have much to tell each other." "I
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
to kill it. It wouldn't do to go home with a bottle sticking out of his pocket. He stood there in the night wind, sipping at it, and watching the reddish moon come up in the east. The moon looked as phoney as the setting sun. He straightened in sudden determination. It had to be sometime. Get it over with, get it over with now. He opened the fence-gap, slipped through, and closed it firmly behind him. He retrieved his bag, and waded quietly through the tall grass until he reached the hedge which divided an area of sickly peach
men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror. If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
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Why is Mr. Crandon an important character in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about What is POSAT? by Phyllis Sterling Smith.
Relevant chunks:
Orphans of the Void By MICHAEL SHAARA Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Finding a cause worth dying for is no great trick—the Universe is full of them. Finding one worth living for is the genuine problem! In the region of the Coal Sack Nebula, on the dead fourth planet of a star called Tyban, Captain Steffens of the Mapping Command stood counting buildings. Eleven. No, twelve. He wondered if there was any significance in
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
know! Walton wavered, then abruptly made his decision. He sucked in a deep breath and walked briskly toward the big room where the euthanasia files were kept. The room was large, as rooms went nowadays—thirty by twenty, with deck upon deck of Donnerson micro-memory-tubes racked along one wall and a bank of microfilm records along the other. In six weeks of life Popeek had piled up an impressive collection of data. While he stood there, the computer chattered, lights flashed. New facts poured into the memory banks. It probably went on day and night. "Can I help—oh, it's you, Mr.
lived to remember it. Until hospitals are built on this forlorn world, humans like you who haven't been properly conditioned will have to stay right at home." "How about these men that live and work here?" "They never get here until they've been through the mill first. Adenoids, appendix', all the extra parts they can get along without." "Well," Judith said. "I've certainly learned my lesson!" Gray didn't answer, but from out of the darkness surrounding her came a sound remarkably resembling a snort. "Gray?" Judith asked fearfully. "Yes?" "Hasn't the pilot been gone an awfully long time?" Rat himself
Question:
Why is Mr. Crandon an important character in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Mr. Crandon is a member of POSAT, and he is also a professor, published author, and researcher. Don admires Mr. Crandon as an intellectual before he realizes that Crandon is also the Grand Chairman of POSAT. When Don finds out that Crandon is a member of the secret society, he is shocked. Don knows that Crandon is a highly intelligent person, and POSAT seems like a scam. When Crandon explains the truth about the ancient society, its history, its goals, and its ability to pick the finest individuals to join its ranks, Don listens carefully because of his prior connection to Crandon. Had the Grand Chairman been a complete stranger to Don, he might have written the entire experience off as a manipulative scheme or a simply impossible endeavor. After one short conversation and a tour of the building, Don is willing to join POSAT as a member. Crandon is a persuasive salesman and a true believer in the organization and its goal to make a more civil society. ",
"Dr. Crandon contributes two major things to this story. The first is that he was Donald Alford's mentor as a research scientist, so he was in no small part responsible for Donald's training, giving him the tools he needed to do the research he was doing at work and could be doing with POSAT. The other major role that he plays is that of Grand Chairman of POSAT. Not only is he in charge of the organization as a whole, but he is the one who explains the history and the goals of the organization to the scientists that are recruited. ",
"Dr. Crandon is a research physicist and former professor of Don Alford. When Don first discovers the POSAT ad, he is reading a research paper by Crandon in The Bulletin of Physical Research. Crandon's instruction grounded Alford in the mastery of and commitment to the scientific process and thereby contributed to his skepticism regarding POSAT's promise of mystical wisdom. Therefore, Don is shocked to discover the Grand Chairman of POSAT is Dr. Crandon himself. Crandon delineates the history of POSAT as a hundreds-of-years-old organization meant to preserve and advance the knowledge and discoveries of its founder. The discoveries run the gamut of technology, mathematics, and physical science and pre-date contemporary discoveries such as atomic reactors by centuries. As Crandon explains, these discoveries have been kept secret because humanity could not be trusted to use them responsibly. In the meantime, POSAT has developed a massive computing machine that can analyze human behavior to determine motivations and predict reactions to certain events and knowledge. Crandon hopes that by joining POSAT, Don can use his knowledge of physics to contribute to their mission and, eventually, peacefully introduce their discoveries to society.",
"Dr. Crandon was a professor at a university that Donald Alford once attended. As a fellow scientist, he wrote several research papers and was even published in scientific journals. Donald Alford was reading his latest scholarly journal article when he came across the advertisement for POSAT. It’s clear that Alford admires Dr. Crandon both as his former student and as a scientist. It is later revealed that Dr. Crandon is in fact the Grand Master of the Perpetual Order of Seekers After Truth. He is not the founder, however, but he serves his organization with pride. Alford’s curiosity, scientific attitude, and admiration for Dr. Crandon were several factors in his admittance to joining POSAT. "
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Orphans of the Void By MICHAEL SHAARA Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Finding a cause worth dying for is no great trick—the Universe is full of them. Finding one worth living for is the genuine problem! In the region of the Coal Sack Nebula, on the dead fourth planet of a star called Tyban, Captain Steffens of the Mapping Command stood counting buildings. Eleven. No, twelve. He wondered if there was any significance in
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
know! Walton wavered, then abruptly made his decision. He sucked in a deep breath and walked briskly toward the big room where the euthanasia files were kept. The room was large, as rooms went nowadays—thirty by twenty, with deck upon deck of Donnerson micro-memory-tubes racked along one wall and a bank of microfilm records along the other. In six weeks of life Popeek had piled up an impressive collection of data. While he stood there, the computer chattered, lights flashed. New facts poured into the memory banks. It probably went on day and night. "Can I help—oh, it's you, Mr.
lived to remember it. Until hospitals are built on this forlorn world, humans like you who haven't been properly conditioned will have to stay right at home." "How about these men that live and work here?" "They never get here until they've been through the mill first. Adenoids, appendix', all the extra parts they can get along without." "Well," Judith said. "I've certainly learned my lesson!" Gray didn't answer, but from out of the darkness surrounding her came a sound remarkably resembling a snort. "Gray?" Judith asked fearfully. "Yes?" "Hasn't the pilot been gone an awfully long time?" Rat himself
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What is the history of POSAT?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about What is POSAT? by Phyllis Sterling Smith.
Relevant chunks:
getting a spaceship test-piloted, I'd simply dig up the best test pilot in the business, hire him for my client, and forget about everything but collecting my fee. But I couldn't have refused this case if I'd wanted to. I'd already been assigned to it by someone a lot more important than Shalimar Ravenhurst. Every schoolchild who has taken a course in Government Organization and Function can tell you that the Political Survey Division is a branch of the System Census Bureau of the UN Government, and that its job is to evaluate the political activities of [12] various sub-governments
it might be a good idea to find out a little more about them," said Retief. "Who organizes them? There are three strong political parties here on Fust. What's the alignment of this SCARS organization?" "You forget, these are merely teenagers, so to speak," Magnan said. "Politics mean nothing to them ... yet." "Then there are the Groaci. Why their passionate interest in a two-horse world like Fust? Normally they're concerned with nothing but business. But what has Fust got that they could use?" "You may rule out the commercial aspect in this instance," said Magnan. "Fust possesses a vigorous
but Coogan listened stoically. He murmured something about the Troopers, and shuffled alongside the puffing fat man. Sol soon realized that their destination was a barber shop. Dawes cupped his hands over the plate glass and peered inside. Gold letters on the glass advertised: HAIRCUT SHAVE & MASSAGE PARLOR. He reported: "Nobody in the shop. Must be upstairs." The fat man rang the bell. It was a while before an answer came. It was a reedy woman in a housecoat, her hair in curlers, her eyes red and swollen. "Now, now," Dawes said gently. "Don't you take on like that,
all over the System. And every one of those poor tykes would be dead wrong. The Political Survey Division does evaluate political activity, all right, but it is the Secret Service of the UN Government. The vast majority of [13] the System's citizens don't even know the Government has a Secret Service. I happen to know only because I'm an agent of the Political Survey Division. The PSD was vitally interested in the whole McGuire project. Robots of McGuire's complexity had been built before; the robot that runs the traffic patterns of the American Eastern Seaboard is just as capable
had to maintain its constant speed; it had no means of slowing, except to stop, and no way to start again once it did stop. Its limited range of maneuverability made it necessary to set up an orbit that would take it approximately one month, Earth time, to circle a pinpointed planet. And now its fuel was low. Kaiser had that one month to repair his scout or be stranded here forever. That was all he could remember. Nothing of what he had been doing recently. A small shiver passed through his body as he glanced once again at the
Question:
What is the history of POSAT?
Answer:
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[
"The Perpetual Order of Seekers After Truth, POSAT, is an ancient secret society. It was founded by a genius of a man who lived during the Italian Renaissance, roughly 400 years ago. The founder was a mathematician and scientist, and he invented calculus, created the quantum theory of light, and wrote Maxwell’s equations. However, he did not get credit for any of these ideas. He also designed the atomic reactor that Don sees in the laboratory of the building. The founder understood how dangerous the atomic bomb was, and he did not want to give his peers the tools to create such a powerful weapon. He did not trust men who were at war with one another over political power. Still, he did not want his knowledge to vanish when he died, so he created POSAT. He was willing to share his scientific and mathematical secrets, but he did not wish for untrustworthy people to get their hands on the information until it would be safe to do so. The founder also wanted POSAT to work towards a more peaceful society where everyone could be trusted to share knowledge and information without the fear of it leading to catastrophic events. \n\nIn the centuries since the society was founded, the members have invented new tools and technologies that are not available anywhere else in the world, like the atomic reactor shield and the lightbulbs that hang above each Renaissance painting in the waiting room. Yet, the secret society’s main goal is to create a civilized society, not new inventions. In an effort to make that vision a reality, members of POSAT created a very large computer that seeks to decode human motivation. The computer used Don’s multiple choice questionnaire to determine that Don would be a good fit for the society because he is trustworthy. Although it seems like POSAT should involve more renowned scientists and peacekeepers to make sure it accomplishes its mission, it must also guard all of its secrets, and in an increasingly surveilled state, that would be nearly impossible to do while also including great thought leaders. \n",
"POSAT, or The Perpetual Order of Seekers After Truth, is a secret society that considers itself \"ancient and honorable\", which has been active since the Renaissance Era. They put ads in magazines to attract new members, stating that anyone can unlock the key to life through their pamphlets. The organization is led by a Grand Chairman, a spot currently filled by Dr. Crandon. When the organization was founded in the Renaissance Era, some four hundred years before the time in which the story takes place, the technology did not exist to act on the founder's theories. For instance, the atomic reactor that powers the headquarters has only been in use for twenty years, but was designed four hundred years ago. This was how the founder operated, well ahead of his time, developing ideas in the physical sciences far past what anyone would have expected, even of a genius. He donated a number of paintings from his personal collection, so much of the contemporary headquarters has his mark on it, even from an aesthetic standpoint. ",
"POSAT was founded four hundred years prior to the events of the story by a genius mathematician and physical scientist and a group of fellow \"brilliant men\" capable of advancing his scientific discoveries and committing them to secrecy. The founder lived during the Italian Renaissance and used his own mind to invent and discover, among other things, calculus, the quantum theory of light, the theory of relativity, wave mechanics, and nuclear reactions. The founder realized mankind was not able to wield this knowledge responsibly, so POSAT was designed to withhold this information until the time came in history when they could be trusted with it. POSAT operates its headquarters in a large warehouse, in the center of which is a large lab full of researchers where Dr. Crandon oversees the continuing work of the founder. The warehouse also houses businesses like the pharmacy that employs desperate people like Bill Evans, who turns to POSAT as a last resort, and the print shop that publishes advertisements that reach people like Elizabeth Arnable, whose belief in mysticism borders on religious.",
"The Perpetual Order of Seekers After Truth was founded four centuries ago by a genius. He discovered radioactivity and nuclear bombs hundreds of years before the rest of the world, designed the atomic reactor, invented calculus, and more. Impossible things that have yet to be discovered or invented in the 21st Century. The idea behind POSAT was to keep this man’s inventions a secret from the rest of the world, as well as continue making such amazing technological advances. \nSo, POSAT continued as a secret society, committing members who were dedicated to maintaining secrecy and developing ideas and theories that could be used to save the world, not harm it. They are currently dedicated to discovering more about the human motivation and how it can be used to perpetual world peace. This way all discoveries that are made in the future (however dangerous or wonderful they may be) will not be used to incite war, human disaster, or violence. \n"
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getting a spaceship test-piloted, I'd simply dig up the best test pilot in the business, hire him for my client, and forget about everything but collecting my fee. But I couldn't have refused this case if I'd wanted to. I'd already been assigned to it by someone a lot more important than Shalimar Ravenhurst. Every schoolchild who has taken a course in Government Organization and Function can tell you that the Political Survey Division is a branch of the System Census Bureau of the UN Government, and that its job is to evaluate the political activities of [12] various sub-governments
it might be a good idea to find out a little more about them," said Retief. "Who organizes them? There are three strong political parties here on Fust. What's the alignment of this SCARS organization?" "You forget, these are merely teenagers, so to speak," Magnan said. "Politics mean nothing to them ... yet." "Then there are the Groaci. Why their passionate interest in a two-horse world like Fust? Normally they're concerned with nothing but business. But what has Fust got that they could use?" "You may rule out the commercial aspect in this instance," said Magnan. "Fust possesses a vigorous
but Coogan listened stoically. He murmured something about the Troopers, and shuffled alongside the puffing fat man. Sol soon realized that their destination was a barber shop. Dawes cupped his hands over the plate glass and peered inside. Gold letters on the glass advertised: HAIRCUT SHAVE & MASSAGE PARLOR. He reported: "Nobody in the shop. Must be upstairs." The fat man rang the bell. It was a while before an answer came. It was a reedy woman in a housecoat, her hair in curlers, her eyes red and swollen. "Now, now," Dawes said gently. "Don't you take on like that,
all over the System. And every one of those poor tykes would be dead wrong. The Political Survey Division does evaluate political activity, all right, but it is the Secret Service of the UN Government. The vast majority of [13] the System's citizens don't even know the Government has a Secret Service. I happen to know only because I'm an agent of the Political Survey Division. The PSD was vitally interested in the whole McGuire project. Robots of McGuire's complexity had been built before; the robot that runs the traffic patterns of the American Eastern Seaboard is just as capable
had to maintain its constant speed; it had no means of slowing, except to stop, and no way to start again once it did stop. Its limited range of maneuverability made it necessary to set up an orbit that would take it approximately one month, Earth time, to circle a pinpointed planet. And now its fuel was low. Kaiser had that one month to repair his scout or be stranded here forever. That was all he could remember. Nothing of what he had been doing recently. A small shiver passed through his body as he glanced once again at the
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about What is POSAT? by Phyllis Sterling Smith.
Relevant chunks:
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"\nIn 1953, an advertisement for the Perpetual Order of Seekers After Truth appears in magazines. The ad claims that POSAT is an ancient secret society looking for new members. Three individuals send away to receive a free booklet from them. Bill is a pharmacist who is down on his luck and out of a job. Elizabeth is a wealthy woman who lives with cats. Don is a research physicist who has a successful career and a wife, Betty. \n\nPOSAT sends Bill, Elizabeth, and Don three identical forms in the mail and asks for their responses. Bill is initially skeptical, but he hopes that POSAT will be able to turn his life around in some unexpected way. He answers the questions about his employment, religion, and finances. Elizabeth does the same enthusiastically. Although Don believes it’s a scam, he can’t squash his own curiosity, and he sends his answers in.\n\nIn return, Bill receives a pamphlet with vague descriptions for how to solve life’s problems. He finds the material useless, but he isn’t disappointed because he just landed a new job. Elizabeth discovers that she has been accepted into the society, and she must pay $5 a month. Lastly, Don receives a multiple choice exam, which he answers and sends back.\n\n\nDon receives a request to meet with the Grand Chairman at his work, and this surprises him because he never gave them his work address. He finds the warehouse and sees that it is windowless, rundown, and dirty. However, the waiting room contains beautiful rugs and paintings in ornate frames. He realizes that each painting is lit with a glowing tube that does not contain batteries, and he puts one of the lights in his pocket. It shocks him because his workplace is the only laboratory working on this exact product. He no longer trusts what is going on at POSAT and tries to leave, but the door is locked. \nDon is brought upstairs, and his fear increases when he looks into a high tech laboratory and sees scientists working on an atomic reactor. Dr. Crandon, Don’s former professor, appears and introduces himself as the Grand Chairman. He tells Don that POSAT has been around for over four hundred years, and its founder invented the atomic reactor. He did not have the technology to build it, and he realized that humanity was not ready for such a weapon. He decided to share his knowledge with other geniuses and keep it all a secret. Their goal was to get humanity to a point where information could be shared without the threat of violence and death. Crandon shows Don the world’s biggest computer, which is meant to learn humans’ motivation. Don’s test was put into the computer, and his responses indicate that he will join POSAT and be a valuable member. Bill was given a job to improve his life, and Elizabeth feels included and contributes financially. Don decides to join the secret society and work towards a more peaceful planet. \n",
"Various advertisements have gone through various magazines for POSAT, the \"Perpetual Order of Seekers After Truth\", offering a booklet that can be requested in the mail. Various people sent for the booklet, including Bill Evans, a pharmacist currently without work, Miss Elizabeth Arnable, an eager woman excited to learn, and Donald Alford, a research physicist driven by curiosity. The three of them received an identical form in return, and each filled out the long questionnaire with a large amount of personal information. Donald's wife tried to convince him to fill the form out with false answers, but he was honest as the others were. A week after these questionnaires were sent, POSAT sent different envelopes to these three people. Bill Evans, for instance, received a standard pamphlet with metaphysical discussion. He was disappointed by this but was pleased to be starting a new job near the POSAT offices soon, which he did not realized was connected. Miss Arnable received several pamphlets and an offer to pay dues, which she did immediately. Donald Alford received a series of multiple choice questions about moral decisions surrounding potentially dangerous events. His answers got him an interview with the Grand Chairman of POSAT, but it would be in the middle of a work day, almost a hundred miles away. Although he was surprised to have received the letter at his lab, because he had only given POSAT his home address, his curiosity drove him to take the interview. It took him some time to find the POSAT headquarters, hidden in the back of an alley, and he was struck by the elegance of the first room he was invited into. He was slightly taller than the people the room was built for, hitting his head on a light and having to bend over to look at paintings. He found an impossible-seeming lightbulb, that resembled a secret project he was working on but in later stages. He was locked in the room, but eventually escorted to see the Grand Chairman, passing over an incredible laboratory with an atomic reactor. It turns out the Grand Chairman was Dr. Crandon, Donald's mentor, which made Donald confused, as he had trusted Dr. Crandon but could not trust what was happening in the laboratory he had seen. Dr. Crandon explained that although most of their work was illegal, he considered it some of the most moral work being done. Dr. Crandon walked Donald through the history of the organization, waxing poetic about the founder's genius as a physical scientist and mathematician. He did not have the technology to act on his theories, but left enough information for people in the future to develop technologies, following what Crandon called the path to truth. The primary goal was for science to be used without disaster, and Donald struggles accepting this knowing that atomic bombs exist. The machine with which they were studying human motivation is what read the entry questionnaires. His curiosity wins and Donald joins the research group.",
"Three people separately read and react to an advertisement for POSAT, the Perpetual Order of Seekers After Truth, which promises secret truths that can alter the course of one's life. Bill Evans, an unemployed pharmacist, finds hope in the promise of superhuman intervention to help pull him from his desperate financial situation. Miss Elizabeth Arnable, a cat enthusiast who doesn’t read, connects with the advertisement's religious and mystical undertones since she believes her cats to be reincarnated family members. Donald Alford, a research physicist, is the most skeptical among them, and his interest in POSAT is purely scientific; he wants to determine POSAT’s true purpose, and so he completes the autobiographical form all three of them receive in response to their individual inquiries for more information. The impractical, metaphysical pamphlet Bill receives in response to his form disappoints him; however, he also receives a job offer at a pharmacy attached to the very warehouse that also houses POSAT's headquarters. Miss Arnable receives a membership pin, several pamphlets full of hidden truths of ancient wisdom, and information regarding membership fees. Don Alford receives a questionnaire that appears to be some kind of personality test catered to him specifically, despite the fact he has thus far revealed nothing of his life to them. Don's wife, Betty, wonders if POSAT might be some kind of spy society. In response to his questionnaire, POSAT invites Don to their headquarters to meet with their Grand Chairman in order to conduct an interview prior to his membership acceptance. Don struggles to decide whether or not to attend the meeting, considering the headquarters is nearly one-hundred miles from his home, and the lab where he works typically frowns upon using work time for personal matters. However, he decides to go anyway, and he finds the headquarters is part of a massive warehouse that is also home to a printer's plant, upholstering shop, and a pharmacy where Bill Evans now works. A receptionist guides him to a waiting room, where he discovers a number of brightly-lit Renaissance-style paintings. When he accidentally dislodges a light tube, he realizes the technology keeping it lit resembles his own research back at the lab--research that has not yet been released for public consumption. When he meets the Grand Chairman, he begins to make sense of the true purpose of POSAT; the Grand Chairman is actually Dr. Crandon, a physicist whose research Don has admired for several decades. Dr. Crandon explains POSAT is a society started four hundred years ago by a genius mathematician and physical scientist whose knowledge and discoveries were so advanced and powerful, he felt they must be kept secret until the world was ready to handle them in a responsible fashion. He shows Don a large computing machine used to determine human motivations and predict their reactions, which had been used to assess Don's suitability for membership, and which will be used to contribute to the advancement of a peaceful society. Don agrees to join Dr. Crandon's cause.",
"An ad was placed in the paper and several magazines throughout town, describing POSAT, the Pepetual Order of Seekers After Truth. It speaks vaguely about wisdom, changing your life, and mastering knowledge. Three people look at the ad in interest. The first is Bill Evans, a recently unemployed pharmacist, desperate for a miracle. He needs another job, a better life, so he responds to the ad as a last resort. The second is Miss Elizabeth Arnable, a cat-lady who loves the radio. And finally, Donald Alford, a physicist with a caring wife. He was reading a paper by Dr. Crandon, his former professor when he came across the advertisement. He responded simply because he was curious, and because their symbol piqued his interest. It looked almost like the Bohr atom of helium. \nThey all received identical booklets in the mail, promising the same stuff as the advertisement, but with a new form. All threw filled it out. Bill Evans took a while to do so, but he did so eventually with his desperation in tow. Miss Arnable wrote five pages, including the lives of her cats, and asked how much she would need to pay to be a member of POSAT. \nBut Alford was more skeptical, so he showed the booklet to his wife. She knew he was going to fill it out anyway because his curiosity would not be sated till he had an answer. He did just that.\nThe next mailings were completely different. Bill Evans’ pamphlet was filled with vague and metaphysical realizations. But, the same day, he was miraculously offered a job at a wholesale pharmacy. Miss Arnable was accepted, sent pamphlets about cats, and asked to pay $5/month. After filling out a multiple-choice questionnaire, Alford was asked to come in for an interview with the Grand Master during his workday. The letter was sent to his office; the address he never revealed. He took off the day to drive there and arrived at a small entrance down an alley near a wholesale pharmacy. He entered and climbed the stairs to the receptionist. She took his information then led him into the waiting room. Beautiful paintings lined the wall, lit up by radioactive, self-contained lights. He was in shock after making this discovery. His lab was working on such an invention, but failing at making the right material. He pocketed the light. \nThe receptionist led him across a balcony into the Grand Master’s office. Below the balcony was a highly advanced laboratory. Equipment that had yet to be invented. When Alford entered the office, he realized the man in front of him was Dr. Crandon, his professor, and fellow scientist. He explains the history of POSAT, how advanced they are, and their current mission: to find out more about human motivation to solve world issues. Dr. Crandon shows him a supercomputer that is on the path to making this huge discovery. Alford joins POSAT. \n"
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"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
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How does the narrator’s name affect his social life?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about I, the Unspeakable by Walter J. Sheldon.
Relevant chunks:
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
name, as is your custom. Using the first—letters—of my designation, my name would translate as Elb." "Glad to meet you," Steffens mumbled. "You are called 'Stef,'" said the robot obligingly. Then it added, pointing an arm at the robot near Ball: "The age of—Peb—is seventeen years, one month and four days. Peb has therefore remaining some thirty-eight years." Steffens was trying to keep up. Then the life span was obviously about fifty-five years. But the cities, and the carbon dioxide? The robot, Elb, had said that the Makers were similar to him, and therefore oxygen and plant life would have
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
was form and technique, and you got the Melling Prize. Now it's message, political content that counts. That's not poetry, Mr. Prior—and there are still a few of us who recognize what poetry is. Take Yeats, for instance—" Walton was ready to launch into a discussion of every poet from Prior back to Surrey and Wyatt; anything to keep from the job at hand, anything to keep his mind from Popeek. But Prior interrupted him. "Mr. Walton...." "Yes?" "My son Philip ... he's two weeks old now...." Walton understood. "No, Prior. Please don't ask." Walton's skin felt cold; his hands,
food? Unpleasant? Sure. But the world had voted for it. Until Lang and his team succeeded in terraforming Venus, or until the faster-than-light outfit opened the stars to mankind, something had to be done about Earth's overpopulation. There were seven billion now and the figure was still growing. Prior's words haunted him. I was tubercular ... where would my poems be now? The big humble man was one of the great poets. Keats had been tubercular too. What good are poets? he asked himself savagely. The reply came swiftly: What good is anything, then? Keats, Shakespeare, Eliot, Yeats, Donne, Pound,
Question:
How does the narrator’s name affect his social life?
Answer:
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[
"The narrator, who was designated an unspeakably vulgar four-letter designation during the last renumbering, has been negatively affected by his new name. Because of its distracting effect on those who learn it, he is forced to resign from his job studying magnetic mechanics and assume non-productive status, which in turn hampers his ability to acquire realfood. Theoretical research which the narrator privately conducts could not be published. His designation further prevents him from participating in group games at the rec center, special interest clubs, and State Loyalty chapters. The narrator is unable to mate since, at the Eugenic Centers where mating is regulated by the State, he must submit an application which must be approved by women who are authorized to mate with him.",
"His social life is heavily affected by his name. He cannot get himself off the N/P status with his name. Firslty, he loses his job due to this name. He can still remember the day that he got his name, and the embarrasement that came with it. His boss finds his name making the company less efficient, making him resign. Secondly, he cannot find any new job. Each of the employer, hearing his name, would tell him that they will call of something comes up. But they never do. Secondly, he can hardly join group games at any of the rec centers. No special interest clubs or even State Loyalty chapters would allow him to join them; simply because of his name, he can scarcely submit any findings for publication, at least not under his name. Moreover, because he is at N/P status, he cannot even get his order because the distributer tells him to get to the end of the line. And the food packages never reachese the end. Lastly, he cannot mate, no one at the Eugenic Center would even bother to call him back after hearing his name. No woman would want to mate with him. Thus, he feels terribly lonely. ",
"The narrator's name makes it difficult for him to lead a normal life, and instead makes him very lonely. At the beginning of the story, the narrator's chief lets him go from his place of employment, because of the difficulties that his name brought to the workplace. He has trouble getting a new job, despite his impressive expertise, because of his name. This makes the narrator stuck in the Non-Productive status, which interrupts his everyday life, including on realfood day, joining games and clubs, and even being unable to publish anything with his name on it. These difficulties also apply for mating; the narrator is unable to find a partner and finds himself extremely lonely. ",
"The narrator is embarrassed by his name and upset with it due to its effect on his social life. Women and others, in general, become quite embarrassed when they hear his name. People seem to not want to associate with him due to his name. He loses his job because of his name, though the manager does not directly state that it is the reason. People do not want him to join their group games, clubs, or State Loyalty chapters and his research is unable to be submitted for publication. Because people have adverse reactions to his name, the narrator is lonely due to the lack of his social life. In addition, because of his name, the narrator is not able to mate with a woman. His inability to find a woman that will mate with him creates a longing and a desire for him to mate with a woman. "
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The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
name, as is your custom. Using the first—letters—of my designation, my name would translate as Elb." "Glad to meet you," Steffens mumbled. "You are called 'Stef,'" said the robot obligingly. Then it added, pointing an arm at the robot near Ball: "The age of—Peb—is seventeen years, one month and four days. Peb has therefore remaining some thirty-eight years." Steffens was trying to keep up. Then the life span was obviously about fifty-five years. But the cities, and the carbon dioxide? The robot, Elb, had said that the Makers were similar to him, and therefore oxygen and plant life would have
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
was form and technique, and you got the Melling Prize. Now it's message, political content that counts. That's not poetry, Mr. Prior—and there are still a few of us who recognize what poetry is. Take Yeats, for instance—" Walton was ready to launch into a discussion of every poet from Prior back to Surrey and Wyatt; anything to keep from the job at hand, anything to keep his mind from Popeek. But Prior interrupted him. "Mr. Walton...." "Yes?" "My son Philip ... he's two weeks old now...." Walton understood. "No, Prior. Please don't ask." Walton's skin felt cold; his hands,
food? Unpleasant? Sure. But the world had voted for it. Until Lang and his team succeeded in terraforming Venus, or until the faster-than-light outfit opened the stars to mankind, something had to be done about Earth's overpopulation. There were seven billion now and the figure was still growing. Prior's words haunted him. I was tubercular ... where would my poems be now? The big humble man was one of the great poets. Keats had been tubercular too. What good are poets? he asked himself savagely. The reply came swiftly: What good is anything, then? Keats, Shakespeare, Eliot, Yeats, Donne, Pound,
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What is the narrator’s relationship to the mysterious voice in his dreams?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about I, the Unspeakable by Walter J. Sheldon.
Relevant chunks:
voices of friends he knew. How beautiful and perfect was each voice! How filled with warmth and friendship! There was the voice of his beautiful wife whom he would never see again. There were the gruff and deep voices of his co-workers and scientists. Above all there were the voices of the cities, and the fields and the shops where he had worked. All these had their individual voices. Odd that he had never realized it before, but things become clearer to a man who is alone. Clearer? Perhaps not. Perhaps they become more clouded. How could he, for example,
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
of the club crashed into my head. I went into instant darkness. Darkness, and a long, long silence. 4. Vauna, the beautiful daughter of Tomboldo, came into my life during the weeks that I lay unconscious. I must have talked aloud much during those feverish hours of darkness. "Campbell!" I would call out of a nightmare. "Campbell, we're about to land. Is everything set? Check the instruments again, Campbell." "S-s-sh!" The low hush of Split Campbell's voice would somehow penetrate my dream. The voices about me were soft. My dreams echoed the soft female voices of this new, strange language.
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
This was no fantasy. There was a scientific reason for it. There must be! Or should there be? Throughout all Earth history there had been Ghost Ships sailing the Seven Seas—ships doomed to roam forever because their crew broke some unbreakable law. If this was true for the ships of the seas, why not for the ships of empty space? He looked again at the strange ship. It was motionless. At least it was not nearing him. Willard could see nothing but its vague outline. A moment later he could discern a faint motion. It was turning! The Ghost Ship
Question:
What is the narrator’s relationship to the mysterious voice in his dreams?
Answer:
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[
"As the narrator finds it increasingly difficult to find a sexual partner as a result of his state-appointed designation, he begins to hear a mysterious female voice in his dreams. She first encourages him to change his name. Initially, he worries that his sleep-learner, a wearable head device which enables learning during sleep, has malfunctioned, but he finds no evidence of this. \nThe narrator hears the voice nearly every night. He often worries about the voice, as the contents of its speech are heretical. She encourages him to go to the Govpub office, a sort of government office in his locality, and he eventually obliges. \nOn the night before the narrator is slated to take a transport to the capital to change his name, he hears the voice again. It encourages him to persevere, and that he is attracted to Lara, a woman he had met earlier in the week. The voice further pushes him to pursue a relationship with Lara once he is able to change his name.\n",
"The mysterious voice always come to the main character during his dreams. It insists that he should “do it,” thus change his way of living. Because of his name, he has lost his job, and he is not able to mate. Even living an everyday life is quite difficult. The voice wants him to change that. She does not state that she want him to commit nonconformity, but making heretical remarks besides. The narrator’s difficulty in finding a new job and in having a normal social life negatively affects him because of name and no post. He feels lonely, thus there is a desire to change his name. The urge to reproduce himself becomes unbearable. He concoctes all sorts of wild schemes. The mysterious voice encourages him to dare to change his name, and find the freedom. When he even catches himeself wondering just how he'd go about this idea of hers. Wondering what the first step might be. The voice will appear at night and tell him the prompts. He absorbs the concepts unconsciously. He follows what the voice leads him to do. On the night before he board the ship for Center One, he thinks of objections to refute the voice. He thinks of his life now, and how breaking away from it will be very difficult. However, even though he is still hesitating if he should go, the voice seems to understand him very well. It reminds him of Lara, of how there will be a way to change his name, and to take her with him. ",
"The narrator experiences a voice in his dreams that encourages him to take risks, particularly regarding changing his name. He hears the voice practically every night, and describes it as a woman's voice: intense, seductive, and intriguing. The voice, though enticing, troubles the narrator, as he is concerned about the consequences of the actions that she is suggesting. However, as he continues to hear the voice every night, he starts to consider obeying it. The voice then drives him to begin the journey of changing his name, which is risky and radical in his society, and also tempts him in pursuing Lara and gaining freedom.",
"The mysterious voice in the narrator’s dreams talks in a seductive tone that was low and intense. The voice in his dreams went against the narrator’s conformists ideals that fit the State in the Northem. It suggests non-standard actions in an emotional tone that is unthinkable behavior in the Northem. The actions the voice suggest are ones of nonconformity and criticisms against the State. The narrator is hesitant and unsure about the voice’s presence. The voice continues to encourage the narrator to change his name. It even suggests that he should act on his attraction to Lara. "
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voices of friends he knew. How beautiful and perfect was each voice! How filled with warmth and friendship! There was the voice of his beautiful wife whom he would never see again. There were the gruff and deep voices of his co-workers and scientists. Above all there were the voices of the cities, and the fields and the shops where he had worked. All these had their individual voices. Odd that he had never realized it before, but things become clearer to a man who is alone. Clearer? Perhaps not. Perhaps they become more clouded. How could he, for example,
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
of the club crashed into my head. I went into instant darkness. Darkness, and a long, long silence. 4. Vauna, the beautiful daughter of Tomboldo, came into my life during the weeks that I lay unconscious. I must have talked aloud much during those feverish hours of darkness. "Campbell!" I would call out of a nightmare. "Campbell, we're about to land. Is everything set? Check the instruments again, Campbell." "S-s-sh!" The low hush of Split Campbell's voice would somehow penetrate my dream. The voices about me were soft. My dreams echoed the soft female voices of this new, strange language.
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
This was no fantasy. There was a scientific reason for it. There must be! Or should there be? Throughout all Earth history there had been Ghost Ships sailing the Seven Seas—ships doomed to roam forever because their crew broke some unbreakable law. If this was true for the ships of the seas, why not for the ships of empty space? He looked again at the strange ship. It was motionless. At least it was not nearing him. Willard could see nothing but its vague outline. A moment later he could discern a faint motion. It was turning! The Ghost Ship
|
What appears to be the role of the State in the Northem?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about I, the Unspeakable by Walter J. Sheldon.
Relevant chunks:
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
a trouble-spot at random, "... central Belgium. Will the section chief in charge of this area please consider the advisability of transferring population excess to fertile areas in Patagonia? Recommendation: establishment of industries in latter region, to ease transition." He shut his eyes, dug his thumbs into them until bright flares of light shot across his eyeballs, and refused to let himself be bothered by the multiple problems involved in dumping several hundred thousand Belgians into Patagonia. He forced himself to cling to one of Director FitzMaugham's oft-repeated maxims, If you want to stay sane, think of these people as
an education in the law, a short spell as Senator FitzMaugham's private secretary, followed last month by his sudden elevation to assistant administrator of the newly-created Popeek Bureau. For Fred, medicine, unsuccessful private practice, finally a job in the Happysleep section of Popeek, thanks to Roy.
affect you at last? Back to the torture room." "Like R-dust," Jon growled. He pressed the firing stud on the stubray gun. One of Steel-Blue's tentacles broke off and fell to the rocky sward. Steel-Blue jerked out the box he'd used once before. A tentacle danced over it. Abruptly Jon found himself standing on a pinnacle of rock. Steel-Blue had cut a swath around him 15 feet deep and five feet wide. "Back to the room," Steel-Blue commanded. Jon resheathed the stubray pistol, shrugged non-committally and leaped the trench. He walked slowly back and reentered the torture chamber. The Steel-Blues
if they were as ugly as the second city had been. Yet the danger was too great. He would go back to his ship and make the arrangements to destroy the city. The ship was armed, and to deliver indirect fire over the edge of the canal would be simple enough. Garve North, his brother, waited back at the ship. If he knew of the city he would have to go there. Eric must not take a chance on that. After they had blasted whatever it was that lay in the canal floor, then it would be time enough to
Question:
What appears to be the role of the State in the Northem?
Answer:
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[
"Northem, one of the two superstates of the world and home to the Narrator, is ruled by the State. It is highly efficient, and allocates alphanumeric designations to its citizens to be used as names. In the most recent renumbering, the State assigns the narrator an unspeakable four-letter designation. \n\tThe State, through its officers the Deacons, enforces norms of acceptability. These norms include the ranges of physical attractiveness within which women are required to stay, the flat tone of voice in which citizens must speak, and the facial expressions citizens are allowed to display. Additionally, the State regulates sexual behaviour: mating is only allowed in Eugenic Centers, and those who infract upon sexual norms are sent to a prison planet called Marscol. \n\tThe State further regulates the allocation of realfood, such as eggs, which is a valuable commodity. When the balance of trade between Northem and Southem, the other superstate, fluctuates, more or less realfood becomes available. Non-productive members of society, so long as they are conformists, or loyal members of the state, are cared for by the State.\n",
"The State is currently ruling over Northem. They’ve set rules that must be followed by the citizens, those that infract and do not obey will be send to Marscol. Those that follow the rules, the states will provide food to them. Thus, the State cultivate and organize conformists, and tell them to obey rules. Moreover, because the old designations were not efficient, and there are more than two billion people in Northem. Thus the State has decided to introduce a new renumbering system that would be benificial to both the Northm and the Southem. Thus everyone was renumbered. They each receives a six digits along with four digits of prefix or sufix. \n\nFurthermore, the State favors short and succinct languages. It prefers efficiency. They changed the numbering system because it was not efficient; the boss was trying to ease the main character out because he desired an efficient organization; the cyb asked for efficient words when the main character was the Govpub Office. \n\nAlso, there had been political differences between the Northern and Southern states. During those times, they each spread longitudinally across the globe. While not in war currently, both of the states are geared up for it. ",
"The Northem acts as the moral, civilized, and orderly opposition to the Southem. The State helps to enforce this order and civility, primarily by the renumbering of its citizens. This structured system of naming attempts to place citizens on similar levels and address each other formally. To challenge this naming system would be to question the authority of the State. Society is also divided into Producers and Non-Producers; the Non-Producers are seen as draining of the Northem, reinforcing productivity as a defining value of the State. The State also aids in enforcing mating regulations; the narrator notes that pre-atomic civilization had free mating, where public affection and partnership was common; however, mating is now a State-regulated activity as provided by Eugenic Centers.",
"The citizens of Northem are conformists that dare do not go against the State nor criticize the State. The State regulates nearly every aspect of a person’s life. The State of Northem is in charge of renumbering, assigning a work designation, food allotments, sleeping arrangements, and mating abilities for its citizens. Renumbering is claimed to help the war-type struggle against Southem. With the new designation, every person was assigned six digits and four letters as a prefix or suffix. "
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its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
a trouble-spot at random, "... central Belgium. Will the section chief in charge of this area please consider the advisability of transferring population excess to fertile areas in Patagonia? Recommendation: establishment of industries in latter region, to ease transition." He shut his eyes, dug his thumbs into them until bright flares of light shot across his eyeballs, and refused to let himself be bothered by the multiple problems involved in dumping several hundred thousand Belgians into Patagonia. He forced himself to cling to one of Director FitzMaugham's oft-repeated maxims, If you want to stay sane, think of these people as
an education in the law, a short spell as Senator FitzMaugham's private secretary, followed last month by his sudden elevation to assistant administrator of the newly-created Popeek Bureau. For Fred, medicine, unsuccessful private practice, finally a job in the Happysleep section of Popeek, thanks to Roy.
affect you at last? Back to the torture room." "Like R-dust," Jon growled. He pressed the firing stud on the stubray gun. One of Steel-Blue's tentacles broke off and fell to the rocky sward. Steel-Blue jerked out the box he'd used once before. A tentacle danced over it. Abruptly Jon found himself standing on a pinnacle of rock. Steel-Blue had cut a swath around him 15 feet deep and five feet wide. "Back to the room," Steel-Blue commanded. Jon resheathed the stubray pistol, shrugged non-committally and leaped the trench. He walked slowly back and reentered the torture chamber. The Steel-Blues
if they were as ugly as the second city had been. Yet the danger was too great. He would go back to his ship and make the arrangements to destroy the city. The ship was armed, and to deliver indirect fire over the edge of the canal would be simple enough. Garve North, his brother, waited back at the ship. If he knew of the city he would have to go there. Eric must not take a chance on that. After they had blasted whatever it was that lay in the canal floor, then it would be time enough to
|
How do others react upon hearing the narrator’s name?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about I, the Unspeakable by Walter J. Sheldon.
Relevant chunks:
guards? What does Travelers Aid have that's so secret?" Cassal grunted and didn't answer. Dimanche could be annoyingly inquisitive at times. Cassal had entered one side of a block-square building. He came out on the other side. The agency was larger than he had thought. The old man was staring at a door as Cassal came out. He had apparently changed every sign in the building. His work finished, the technician was removing the visual projector from his head as Cassal came up to him. He turned and peered. "You stuck here, too?" he asked in the uneven voice of
of the scout bottom gave slowly—until the fuel pump hung free! Kaiser did not repair the tube immediately. He let the solution rest in his hands, like a package to be opened, the pleasure of its anticipation to be enjoyed as much as the final act. He transmitted the news of what he had been able to do and sat down to read the two messages waiting for him. The first was quite routine: REPORTS FROM THE OCTOPUS INDICATE THAT BIG MUDDY UNDERGOES RADICAL WEATHER-CYCLE CHANGES DURING SPRING AND FALL SEASONS, FROM EXTREME MOISTURE TO EXTREME ARIDITY. AT HEIGHT OF
time travel not possible. Just like television not possible to your grandfather." Ann said, "Why invite us? We're not rich enough for expensive trips." "Invite many people," Snader said quickly. "Not expensive. You know Missing Persons lists, from police? Dozens people disappear. They go with me to other time. Many stay." "Oh, sure," Jeff said. "But how do you select the ones to invite?" "Find ones like you, Mr. Elliott. Ones who want change, escape." Jeff was slightly startled. How did this fellow know his name was Elliott? Before he could ask, Ann popped another question. "Mr. Snader, you heard
weapon, picked up the book and leafed through it, raising his head in a listening attitude, searching for a suitable passage. Michaelson heard the thin, metallic pages rustle softly. He could have jumped and seized the weapon at that moment, but his desire to hear the book was strong. Old Maota read, Michaelson listened. The cadence was different, the syntax confusing. But the thoughts were there. It might have been a professor back on Earth reading to his students. Keats, Shelley, Browning. These people were human, with human thoughts and aspirations. The old man stopped reading. He squatted slowly, keeping
bound to develop differently." "Is environment so important? Newman tells about a pair of identical twins separated from birth, unaware of each other's existence. They met by accident when they were twenty-one. Each was a telephone repairman. Each had a wife the same age. Each had a baby son. And each had a fox terrier called 'Trixie.' That's without trying to make environments similar. But suppose you did try. Suppose you saw to it that each of them had exactly the same experiences at the same times...." For a moment it seemed to Jack that the room was dimming and
Question:
How do others react upon hearing the narrator’s name?
Answer:
|
[
"Typically, people are unwelcoming of the narrator upon learning his name. During his job search, he is welcome in virtue of his previous experience in space drives, but is quickly dismissed upon sharing his name. In submitting his application to mate at a Eugenic Center, the clerk dismisses the narrator’s chances of finding a mate with a reminder that the women are able to refuse. Lara, the information clerk at the department of Numbering and Identity, is taken aback and hesitates in recording the narrator’s personal information. \n",
"People around the narrator are embarrassed to even utter his name. When he reports his name to his chief of his past job, his boss was speechless, and definitely was feeling awkward. He did not give the name to the secretarial engineer, who usually takes care of the names. Instead, he went directly to the administrative circuits. Later, the boss asked him to resign, simply because of his name. Moreover, when trying to get hired for other jobs, upon hearing his name, the employer would react with confusion, and they would try to be polite and say that they will call if any thing turn up. The women at the Eugenic Center have similar reactions. They would be embarrassed, and then tell him that they will call if anything comes up. But they never do. At monthly realfood day, he can hardly get the package because the distributor sees his post and realizes that he is a Non-Producer, they would tell him to go to the end of the line, where the food never gets there. Even Lara was a bit shocked, and she has to take some time to recover. ",
"Upon hearing the narrator's name, people are shocked, and sympathetically try to ignore it. Firstly, when the narrator first reports his name to the chief, he reacts silently and refuses to share it with anyone else. The chief then does not refer to the narrator by his name, instead calling him by nicknames. When the clerk at the Eugenic Center hears the narrator's name, he coughs awkwardly and reminds the narrator that women have the right to refuse entering the mating booth with him. When Lara hears the narrator's name, she tries to hide her reaction and looks down, but takes longer to record it.",
"People have various reactions when they hear the narrator’s name. When he first reports his name to his chief, the chief does not respond directly and instead becomes red in the face and chokes from the shock. Individuals at the different bureaus during his search for a job are excited when they learn of his job specialty, but lose their delight when they see his name on his name tag. A clerk at the Eugenic Center reacts to the narrator’s name with surprise and becomes uncomfortable, shown by his fidgeting and coughing that follows hearing the name. In general, many people have an uncomfortable reaction to his name and have to take a second to process it and recover from their reaction. "
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guards? What does Travelers Aid have that's so secret?" Cassal grunted and didn't answer. Dimanche could be annoyingly inquisitive at times. Cassal had entered one side of a block-square building. He came out on the other side. The agency was larger than he had thought. The old man was staring at a door as Cassal came out. He had apparently changed every sign in the building. His work finished, the technician was removing the visual projector from his head as Cassal came up to him. He turned and peered. "You stuck here, too?" he asked in the uneven voice of
of the scout bottom gave slowly—until the fuel pump hung free! Kaiser did not repair the tube immediately. He let the solution rest in his hands, like a package to be opened, the pleasure of its anticipation to be enjoyed as much as the final act. He transmitted the news of what he had been able to do and sat down to read the two messages waiting for him. The first was quite routine: REPORTS FROM THE OCTOPUS INDICATE THAT BIG MUDDY UNDERGOES RADICAL WEATHER-CYCLE CHANGES DURING SPRING AND FALL SEASONS, FROM EXTREME MOISTURE TO EXTREME ARIDITY. AT HEIGHT OF
time travel not possible. Just like television not possible to your grandfather." Ann said, "Why invite us? We're not rich enough for expensive trips." "Invite many people," Snader said quickly. "Not expensive. You know Missing Persons lists, from police? Dozens people disappear. They go with me to other time. Many stay." "Oh, sure," Jeff said. "But how do you select the ones to invite?" "Find ones like you, Mr. Elliott. Ones who want change, escape." Jeff was slightly startled. How did this fellow know his name was Elliott? Before he could ask, Ann popped another question. "Mr. Snader, you heard
weapon, picked up the book and leafed through it, raising his head in a listening attitude, searching for a suitable passage. Michaelson heard the thin, metallic pages rustle softly. He could have jumped and seized the weapon at that moment, but his desire to hear the book was strong. Old Maota read, Michaelson listened. The cadence was different, the syntax confusing. But the thoughts were there. It might have been a professor back on Earth reading to his students. Keats, Shelley, Browning. These people were human, with human thoughts and aspirations. The old man stopped reading. He squatted slowly, keeping
bound to develop differently." "Is environment so important? Newman tells about a pair of identical twins separated from birth, unaware of each other's existence. They met by accident when they were twenty-one. Each was a telephone repairman. Each had a wife the same age. Each had a baby son. And each had a fox terrier called 'Trixie.' That's without trying to make environments similar. But suppose you did try. Suppose you saw to it that each of them had exactly the same experiences at the same times...." For a moment it seemed to Jack that the room was dimming and
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Wanderers of the Wolf Moon by NELSON S. BOND.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
|
[
"Gregory Malcolm is a secretary to J. Foster Andrews, the wealthy leader of the Galactic Metals Corporation. In the control room of Andrews’s space yacht the Carefree, Sparks, the radioman, fails to downplay the seriousness of their situation to Malcolm: the Carefree has been sucked into an unpredictable vortex and the fate of the ship and its occupants is uncertain. \n\tMalcolm approaches the dining room, where Andrews and members of his family are enjoying breakfast. He is unnoticed by his employers, but takes note of Andrews’s beautiful daughter Crystal and her betrothed Ralph Breadon. Suddenly, Andrews calls Malcolm over to complain about the honey and to enquire about the state of the Galactic market. Malcolm, in virtue of the fact that the vortex has blocked communication to and from the Carefree, is unable to answer. Crystal asks Malcolm if they are in danger, but before he is able to answer the question, Crystal’s older brother Bert enters drunkenly and suggests that they are doomed. \nSparks abruptly enters the room and confirms Bert’s drunken suspicion: they have been caught in a gravitation downdraft and must evacuate to a life skiff. On the skiff with members of the Andrews family, Sparks, a cabin-boy, and Breadon, Malcolm navigates above a celestial body and observes the crash of the Carefree. Just as Malcolm surrenders control of the skiff to Breadon, its engines engage and they quickly fall towards the planet. Breadon deftly manipulates the controls, and they land safely. As Malcolm quickly congratulates Breadon on his landing, the latter blames and berates the secretary for the fall. The cabin-boy, however, points out that Breadon’s sleeve was responsible for their descent. \nMalcolm and Sparks examine the damage to the skiff, and Sparks shares his frustrations about Malcolm’s submissive, secretarial behaviour. Malcolm concludes that they are on a rarely-visited, unpopulated, vast, and dangerous moon of Saturn called Titan. Malcolm resolves not to tell the Andrews, fearing that the information would only make them panic. Meanwhile, the Andrews family are in disarray over how best to remove necessities from the skiff.\nBreadon delegates to Sparks the role of establishing communication. Sparks, however, responds poorly and reveals that they are on Titan, and that their chances of rescue are dim. \n",
"Gregory Malcolm is the secretary of J. Foster Andrews, a wealthy man in charge of the Galactic Metals Corporation. While aboard their ship, Hannigan, a radio operator and companion of Malcolm, discloses that they have entered a vortex and remain trapped with no transmission or radio signal. Hannigan advises that Malcolm doesn't tell the Andrews family and instead waits until there is more information. Malcolm enters the dining dome, where the Andrews family sits, including Crystal, their daughter who Malcolm admires, and Ralph Breadon, her suitor. J. Foster asks Malcolm for information about the corporation's business, to which Malcolm is unable to answer due to the lack of radio transmission. The Andrews family notices the odd situation outside the ship's port and questions Malcolm further, but a drunk Bert Andrews interrupts, panicking and revealing the dire situation at hand. Malcolm reassures the family that there is no immediate danger yet, but Hannigan then enters, urgently yelling at everyone to board the life skiff due to emergency. The team runs to the life skiff, where Malcolm and Hannigan frantically operate it until Breadon insists on taking over. Breadon gains control but the life skiff still faces danger, and as Malcolm and Hannigan scramble over the controls, Breadon steers the life skiff onto the ground; the team survives but the skiff is wrecked. Breadon blames Malcolm for the crash, and Malcolm leaves the situation alone, which Hannigan discourages. After inspection, Malcolm determines that the team has crashed on the planet Titan.",
"The story starts with Hannigan trying to tell Greg that the atmospherics don’t need to be worried, these are not worth reporting to the boss. However, Greg has studied astrogation and is sure that they are in a vortex. He knows that they have been in the vortex for more than eight hours, but he has no idea how much longer nor how far the ship will go. Agreeing not to tell the boss, Greg goes upstairs to the dining room. Right after he arrives by the door, J. Foster Andrews of Galactic Metals Corporation, starts calling him. He comes in and is asked about the transmission, which he says that there is none. Before he has time to finish explaining himself, Bert Andrews, one of J. Foster Andrews’ son, came in and told everyone that they have been in the vortex for a long time, and they could crash at any moment. J. Foster then turns to confirm with Greg, who explains that it is indeed true, only a bit exaggerated. However, Hannigan comes in and rushes everyone to get on Number Four life-skiff. They are about to crash. \n\nThey all rush to the life-skiff. And Breadon, the person that J. Foster Andrew daughter’s engaged to, tries to get the control from Greg. And in the middle of this, someone hit the control-keys and the motor is killed. Then all of a sudden, Greg, Breadon, and Hannigan all try to reach the control. However, in the end, it is the Breadon that performed the miracle in saving all of them. Later Greg and Hannigan goes to check the ship while others are all doing their own things. Looking around, Greg realizes that they are on Titan, one of Saturn’s satellites. Then Breadon orders Hannigan to send an SOS message to the nearest space cruiser. Hannigan asks Breadon, mockingly, what he should use, and if he knows where they are at. Breadon got stuck with so many questions coming at once, then it is Greg who said: they are on the northern hemisphere of the satellite. ",
"The story begins with Sparks and Malcolm discussing their predicament on the ship Carefree. The ship is trapped in a vortex that has blown it off course. Malcolm goes to the rotunda where food is being served to the Andrews family. The Andrews family is surrounding the table, including Crystal, who Malcolm fancies. After some loud talking from the family, eventually, Greg informs them that they are in an ionized field and the transmission does not work. The family becomes quite concerned at the news. The son of Andrews, Bert, walks into the doorway in a drunken manner. He tells everyone that they should be concerned. While Malcolm is trying to calm the family down, Sparks runs into the room yelling at everyone to head towards the life skiff. There is a mad rush towards the life skiff that caused a lot of confusion. The Carefree bursts into flames and Malcolm says that he is unsure if the other skiffs were able to escape in time. \n\nMalcolm is piloting the ship when Breadon commands him to hand over the controls. When he does, Breadon’s sleeve brushes against the control keys causing the motors to be turned off. Many people rush to fix the skiff, but Breadon is ultimately the person who guides the skiff to the ground. Breadon yells at Malcolm for interfering, but the cabin boy, Tommy, defends Malcolm. Breadon continues to belittle Malcolm. Sparks tells Malcolm that he is strange and he needs to defend himself against Breadon. \n\nEveryone disembarks from the ship. Bert tries to give orders, but the orders seem to be nonsensical. Malcolm is the first person to realize where the group has crash-landed. Breadon then commands Sparks to send an SOS message. Sparks mocks him by questioning how he should send a message and where he should say they are located, knowing that Breadon does not have the answer. Breadon is not able to specify exactly where they are located. Malcolm completes an experiment that is able to narrow down which hemisphere of the satellite they are located in, displaying a skill that Breadon does not possess. Maud Andrews is inquisitive of how Malcolm could have possibly been able to know where they crash-landed. \n"
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
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Who are the members aboard the life skiff with Malcolm?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Wanderers of the Wolf Moon by NELSON S. BOND.
Relevant chunks:
dumbly. "Would you prefer to use your—skiff? It is quite a long way from here." It was indeed a long way, even by skiff. Some of the Aliencon crew went along with them. And near the edge of the twilight zone, on the other side of the world, they saw the Factory outlined in the dim light of dusk. A huge, fantastic block, wrought of gray and cloudy metal, lay in a valley between two worn mountains. Steffens went down low, circling in the skiff, stared in awe at the size of the building. Robots moved outside the thing, little
of them clustered upon the hill. Others were arriving even as the skiff landed; they glided in over the rocky hills with fantastic ease and power, so that Steffens felt a momentary anxiety. Most of the robots were standing with the silent immobility of metal. Others threaded their way to the fore and came near the skiff, but none touched it, and a circle was cleared for Steffens when he came out. One of the near robots came forward alone, moving, as Steffens now saw, on a number of short, incredibly strong and agile legs. The black thing paused before
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
out? It'd be fun while it lasted. But he toted up the disadvantages. He either would have to find a hiding place on the asteroid, and if the Steel-Blues wanted him bad enough they could tear the whole place to pieces, or somehow get aboard the little life ship hidden in the service station. In that he would be just a sitting duck. He shrugged off the slight temptation to use the pistol. He was still curious. And he was interested in staying alive as long as possible. There was a remote chance he might warn the SP ship. Unconsciously,
disaster or death. He sent out the call letters. "AX to SP-101 ... AX to SP-101 ... AX to SP-101 ..." Three times he sent the call, then began sending his message, hoping that his signal was reaching the ship. He couldn't know if they answered. Though the power pack could get out a message over a vast distance, it could not pick up messages even when backed by an SP ship's power unless the ship was only a few hundred miles away. The power pack was strictly a distress signal. He didn't know how long he'd been sending, nor
Question:
Who are the members aboard the life skiff with Malcolm?
Answer:
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[
"On life skiff number four, the skiff onto which Gregory Malcolm had evacuated were himself, his employers J. Foster Andrews, the head of the Galactic Metals Corporations, and his family: Andrews’s tall and well-styled wife Enid, his plain-featured, out of shape but beautiful-eyed sister Maud, Maud’s poodle Cuddles, Andrews’s drunk son Bert, Andrews’s beautiful daughter Crystal, and the man to whom Crystal was promised, Ralph Breadon. Malcolm describes Ralph as tall and strong-knit, with tanned skin. Also aboard the skiff were the maid of the Andrews family, ‘Tina Laney, a cabin boy named Tommy O’Doul, and the radio engineer of the Carefree named Hannigan, who is also called Sparks. \n",
"Accompanying Malcolm on the life skiff are Hannigan, also known as Sparks, who is a radio operator, Tommy, a young cabin-boy, Tina, the maid, and the Andrews family and their company. The Andrews family consists of J. Foster Andrews, Malcolm's employer, his wife Enid, his sister Maud, his daughter Crystal, his son Bert, and Crystal's suitor, Ralph Breadon. The Andrews make up the majority of the members on the life skiff, while Malcom, Hannigan, Tommy, and Tina work under them and attempt to evade disaster. ",
"The members that boarded the life skiff with Malcolm are J. Foster Andrews, his wife, their daughter, the maid, Breadon, Hannigan, young Tommy O’Doul, and a cabin boy, whom Malcolm has no idea where he came from and when. J. Foster Andrews is the employer of people that are working for the Galatic Metals Corporation. His wife is Enid. Their daughter is Crystal, who is engaged to Breadon. Maud, the sister of Andrews is also on board. She and per puppy \"Cuddles\" board the life-skiff together. They were not able to see any other life-skiffs. They are unsure if they did break free of they got caught along with the ship. ",
"Those that were able to make it into the life skiff with Malcolm during the emergency include Andrew, Enid, Crystal, Ralph, Maud, Sparks, Tommy O’Doul, and Bert. Bert is Andrew’s son. Enid is the wife of Andrew. Maud is Andrew’s sister. Crystal is Andrew’s daughter. Ralph is the man Crystal is pledged to. Tommy is a cabin boy. Malcolm is Andrew’s secretary. Sparks Hannigan is a radio operator. Tommy, Malcolm, and Sparks are all employees of Andrews’ family. "
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dumbly. "Would you prefer to use your—skiff? It is quite a long way from here." It was indeed a long way, even by skiff. Some of the Aliencon crew went along with them. And near the edge of the twilight zone, on the other side of the world, they saw the Factory outlined in the dim light of dusk. A huge, fantastic block, wrought of gray and cloudy metal, lay in a valley between two worn mountains. Steffens went down low, circling in the skiff, stared in awe at the size of the building. Robots moved outside the thing, little
of them clustered upon the hill. Others were arriving even as the skiff landed; they glided in over the rocky hills with fantastic ease and power, so that Steffens felt a momentary anxiety. Most of the robots were standing with the silent immobility of metal. Others threaded their way to the fore and came near the skiff, but none touched it, and a circle was cleared for Steffens when he came out. One of the near robots came forward alone, moving, as Steffens now saw, on a number of short, incredibly strong and agile legs. The black thing paused before
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
out? It'd be fun while it lasted. But he toted up the disadvantages. He either would have to find a hiding place on the asteroid, and if the Steel-Blues wanted him bad enough they could tear the whole place to pieces, or somehow get aboard the little life ship hidden in the service station. In that he would be just a sitting duck. He shrugged off the slight temptation to use the pistol. He was still curious. And he was interested in staying alive as long as possible. There was a remote chance he might warn the SP ship. Unconsciously,
disaster or death. He sent out the call letters. "AX to SP-101 ... AX to SP-101 ... AX to SP-101 ..." Three times he sent the call, then began sending his message, hoping that his signal was reaching the ship. He couldn't know if they answered. Though the power pack could get out a message over a vast distance, it could not pick up messages even when backed by an SP ship's power unless the ship was only a few hundred miles away. The power pack was strictly a distress signal. He didn't know how long he'd been sending, nor
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Where does the story take place?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Wanderers of the Wolf Moon by NELSON S. BOND.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
A wayfarer's return from a far country to his wife and family may be a shining experience, a kind of second honeymoon. Or it may be so shadowed by Time's relentless tyranny that the changes which have occurred in his absence can lead only to tragedy and despair. This rarely discerning, warmly human story by a brilliant newcomer to the science fantasy field is told with no pulling of punches, and its adroit unfolding will astound you. the hoofer by ... Walter M. Miller, Jr. A space rover has no business with a family. But what can a man in
walked outside and took a deep breath. Air was different, wasn't it? Sweet and pure and clean, like country air always was and always would be; but still, different somehow. Maybe sharper. Or was sharp the word? Maybe.... He went quickly across the yard, past the pig-pen—he'd had twelve pigs, hadn't he? Now he had four—behind the house to where the half-acre truck farm lay greening in the sun. He got to work. Sometime later, Edna called to him. "Delivery last night, Harry. I took some. Pick up rest?" "Yes," he shouted. She disappeared. He walked slowly back to the
Question:
Where does the story take place?
Answer:
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[
"\tThe story begins in the control room of J. Foster Andrews’s space yacht the Carefree, and then proceeds to the dining room. Outside of the Carefreem is a dynamic, glittering web of bright violet light, in stark contrast to the typical black of space. \n\tAs the members of the Andrews family and their household staff escape the Carefree onto a life skiff, the setting changes to the atmosphere of the moon Titan. Now free of the vortex which caused the shimmering lights, the space around their skiff is dark. \n\tAfter their uncontrolled descent onto Titan, the passengers of the skiff find themselves at the foot of a ring of shallow mountains, standing on rough soil. The mountains above are green and lush, with periodic caves along their face. In the sky is an image of Saturn, which causes the gravitational pull on the planet to be similar to Earth’s. More broadly, Titan, the moon they are on, is uninhabited and rarely visited. \n",
"The story takes place on the Andrews' family ship. The ship has multiple rooms; Malcolm and Sparks spend their time operating the ship while the Andrews family stays in the dining dome, a much more comfortable and luxurious room. However, once the ship is in distress and close to crashing, everyone on the ship must move to the independent life skiff, a smaller cramped unit. The crew eventually crashes onto the planet Titan, a mountainous, green, cavern-filled planet, though threatening in its uncertainty and lack of colonies. In the atmosphere, Saturn is visible above them, and the gravity is similar to that on Earth.",
"The story first takes place on a ship which has been in a vortex for more than eight hours. It has lost all its radio signals in and out. They are unsure of when they will be toss out, nor the place that they will be tossed out at. Then the readers follow Greg into the dining room where J. Foster Andrews, his family and some others are eating. There he is asked about the communication which he responds with no communication at all. He starts to explain when Hannigan came into the room and tells everyone to get on the life-skiff since the ship is about to crash. Once they get on to the life-skiff, however, because Breadon accidentally hits the control keys with his sleeve, which turns of the motors and they go directly towards the ground. Luckily Breadon is talented and skilled, he is able to perform the miracle that makes the life-skiff bounced and finally landed, without injuring anyone. Even though the life-skiff is a bit broken, it is not too big of a deal. As everyone got off the life-skiff, Breadon calls them together and tells Hannigan to send signals to the nearest space cruiser. Hannigan suggests to him that they aren’t even sure where they are, and the signal system are broken. Then the story ends with Greg telling them that they are on the northern hemisphere of Titan, one of the satellites of Mars. ",
"The story begins on the yacht named Carefree, owned by J. Foster Andrews. The ship is stuck in a typhoon that is causing the ship to be twisted and directed towards an unknown location. Carefree has been caught in the space vortex for hours and the ship ends up in the H-layer of an unknown planet. As the ship is about to crash, a group swarm towards a life skiff. The life skiff is forty feet. The life skiff crash lands on one of the satellites of Saturn, on Titan, in the northern hemisphere. "
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
A wayfarer's return from a far country to his wife and family may be a shining experience, a kind of second honeymoon. Or it may be so shadowed by Time's relentless tyranny that the changes which have occurred in his absence can lead only to tragedy and despair. This rarely discerning, warmly human story by a brilliant newcomer to the science fantasy field is told with no pulling of punches, and its adroit unfolding will astound you. the hoofer by ... Walter M. Miller, Jr. A space rover has no business with a family. But what can a man in
walked outside and took a deep breath. Air was different, wasn't it? Sweet and pure and clean, like country air always was and always would be; but still, different somehow. Maybe sharper. Or was sharp the word? Maybe.... He went quickly across the yard, past the pig-pen—he'd had twelve pigs, hadn't he? Now he had four—behind the house to where the half-acre truck farm lay greening in the sun. He got to work. Sometime later, Edna called to him. "Delivery last night, Harry. I took some. Pick up rest?" "Yes," he shouted. She disappeared. He walked slowly back to the
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What is the relationship between the Andrews family and those in their employ?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Wanderers of the Wolf Moon by NELSON S. BOND.
Relevant chunks:
operators in the Belt, but when it came to personal relationships, he was utterly incompetent. He could make anyone dislike him without trying. When I entered the office, he was [3] sitting behind his mahogany desk, his eyes focused on the operation he was going through with a wineglass and a decanter. He didn't look up at me as he said: "Sit down, Mr. Oak. Will you have some Madeira?" I decided I might as well observe the pleasantries. There was no point in my getting nasty until he did. "Thank you, Mr. Ravenhurst, I will." He kept his eyes
bound to develop differently." "Is environment so important? Newman tells about a pair of identical twins separated from birth, unaware of each other's existence. They met by accident when they were twenty-one. Each was a telephone repairman. Each had a wife the same age. Each had a baby son. And each had a fox terrier called 'Trixie.' That's without trying to make environments similar. But suppose you did try. Suppose you saw to it that each of them had exactly the same experiences at the same times...." For a moment it seemed to Jack that the room was dimming and
used up. There are no doors going out of the Universe and our boats are silver beacons to the hunters. So we decide to disguise them in the only way they can be disguised. It is our last chance. Edmund rapped the table to gain the family's attention. "I'd say we've done everything we can for the moment to find Ivan. We've made a thorough local search. A wider one, which we can't conduct personally, is in progress. All helpful agencies have been alerted and descriptions are being broadcast. I suggest we get on with the business of the evening—which
Jeff's head. "My business is television, if that's what you mean. What's this about?" "Tell him, Kersey," the big man said, and stared out the window. Kersey began, "You understand, I think, that you have come back in time. About six years back." "That's a matter of opinion, but go on." "I am general manager of Continental Radioptic Combine, owned by Mr. Dumont Bullen." He nodded toward the big man. "Chromatics have not yet been developed here in connection with radioptics. They are well understood in your time, are they not?" "What's chromatics? Color television?" "Exactly. You are an expert
Ish answered him truthfully, without more than ordinary reservations. This was the man who could ground him He was dangerous—red-letter dangerous—because of it. "No family." Ish shrugged. "Not that I know of. Cut out at seventeen. My father was making good money. He had a pension plan, insurance policies. No need to worry about them." Ish knew the normal reaction a statement like that should have brought. MacKenzie's face did not go into a blank of repression—but it still passed no judgements. "How's things between you and the opposite sex?" "About normal." "No wife—no steady girl." "Not a very good
Question:
What is the relationship between the Andrews family and those in their employ?
Answer:
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[
"Generally, the Andrews family is dismissive of their household staff, which include Gregory Malcolm, ‘Tina Laney, Sparks, and a cabin-boy. J. Foster Andrews, the head of the family, impatiently calls for his secretary, Gregory Malcolm, to complain about the quality of their morning honey. J. Foster learns that Malcolm doesn’t know that state of the Galactic market, but dismisses the reason that Malcolm provides, instead concluding that the radio technician Sparks is drunk. \n\tDuring the evacuation to the life skiff, Crystal Andrews, J. Foster’s daughter, remembers her maid ‘Tina Laney and asks where she is, apparently paying mind to her safety. In contrast, her fiancé Ralph Breadon is dismissive of Malcolm, and later blames him for the life skiff’s crashing into Titan. Upon the cabin-boy’s revelation that it was, in fact, Breadon who inadvertently caused the skiff’s malfunction, Breadon strikes the cabin-boy. \n\tOn Titan, ‘Tina is instructed to remove things from the skiff by the women of the Andrews family, who do not help, and Sparks and Malcolm are harshly instructed to make themselves useful. ",
"The Andrews family resembles a royal one; they are wealthy and own the monopoly of Galactic Metals Corporation, with over ten thousand employees. The Andrews family is aware of their wealth and power, and treat their employees as significantly inferior to them. They also believe that any problems that arise are due to their employers, and insist that their products are perfect enough to not be subject to any problems. This is shown in the story when Malcolm first sees the Andrews family to update them on the situation at hand, and J. Foster Andrews expects his workers to be able to resolve the issue themselves. ",
"The Andrews family seem to have different attitudes towards their employees. Through the first part of the story, we see that at first J. Foster Andrews is not paying much attention to Greg, who is his employee, even when speaking with him. J. Foster Andrews simply replies “fine” to Greg’s answer of no transmission. Then he realizes what Greg is actually saying and then without allowing Greg to explain what he means by no transmission and how it has happened, he continues to scold them and order Greg to do things. Maud Andres tells him to stop and lets Greg explain himself. Greg on the other hand is very polite. He greets the Andrews family when entering the dining room, and thanks Miss Andrews for letting him to explain himself. On the contrary, later in the story, Breadon does not thank Greg even when he complements Breadon, instead, Breadon just accuses him for the crash just because he touched the control. But still, Greg is being very polite and calm, and it is in strong contrast to Breadon’s anger and rudeness. Lastly, in the end, the readers see that Maud Andrews, the sister of J. Foster Andrews, is very surprised when she hears that Greg knows where they are. ",
"J. Foster Andrews employs around ten thousand people for his Galactic Metals Corporation. He is described as Napoleonic, especially when talking towards his employees. He is loud and demanding towards Malcolm and interrupts him many times when he speaks. His sister Maud even remarks that he has to give Malcolm a chance to respond. Maud inquisitively judges Malcolm and the other employees. When the ship is about to crash and everybody is rushing towards the life skiff, the Andrews family has more regard for their pets or fights than for saving others on the ship. \n\nAndrew continuously commands orders from his employees and has no patience for anything but extreme obedience from them. The rest of the family continues to demand the employees take after them once they leave the ship after their crash landing. They are more concerned about their own comfort than the well-being of the employees. Both Ralph and J. Foster take action trying to one-up one another in an attempt to show their power over their employees. Neither wants to be a fool. At the end of the story when Malcolm is able to approximate their location, Maud, a member of the Andrews family, is taken aback by Malcolm's discovery. She reacts as if she is surprised an employee could be smart.\n"
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operators in the Belt, but when it came to personal relationships, he was utterly incompetent. He could make anyone dislike him without trying. When I entered the office, he was [3] sitting behind his mahogany desk, his eyes focused on the operation he was going through with a wineglass and a decanter. He didn't look up at me as he said: "Sit down, Mr. Oak. Will you have some Madeira?" I decided I might as well observe the pleasantries. There was no point in my getting nasty until he did. "Thank you, Mr. Ravenhurst, I will." He kept his eyes
bound to develop differently." "Is environment so important? Newman tells about a pair of identical twins separated from birth, unaware of each other's existence. They met by accident when they were twenty-one. Each was a telephone repairman. Each had a wife the same age. Each had a baby son. And each had a fox terrier called 'Trixie.' That's without trying to make environments similar. But suppose you did try. Suppose you saw to it that each of them had exactly the same experiences at the same times...." For a moment it seemed to Jack that the room was dimming and
used up. There are no doors going out of the Universe and our boats are silver beacons to the hunters. So we decide to disguise them in the only way they can be disguised. It is our last chance. Edmund rapped the table to gain the family's attention. "I'd say we've done everything we can for the moment to find Ivan. We've made a thorough local search. A wider one, which we can't conduct personally, is in progress. All helpful agencies have been alerted and descriptions are being broadcast. I suggest we get on with the business of the evening—which
Jeff's head. "My business is television, if that's what you mean. What's this about?" "Tell him, Kersey," the big man said, and stared out the window. Kersey began, "You understand, I think, that you have come back in time. About six years back." "That's a matter of opinion, but go on." "I am general manager of Continental Radioptic Combine, owned by Mr. Dumont Bullen." He nodded toward the big man. "Chromatics have not yet been developed here in connection with radioptics. They are well understood in your time, are they not?" "What's chromatics? Color television?" "Exactly. You are an expert
Ish answered him truthfully, without more than ordinary reservations. This was the man who could ground him He was dangerous—red-letter dangerous—because of it. "No family." Ish shrugged. "Not that I know of. Cut out at seventeen. My father was making good money. He had a pension plan, insurance policies. No need to worry about them." Ish knew the normal reaction a statement like that should have brought. MacKenzie's face did not go into a blank of repression—but it still passed no judgements. "How's things between you and the opposite sex?" "About normal." "No wife—no steady girl." "Not a very good
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Why is Cassal on his way to Tunney 21?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Delay in Transit by F. L. (Floyd L.) Wallace.
Relevant chunks:
up a little." FitzMaugham chuckled. "In another century or two, you mean. I'm afraid you'll never learn how to relax, my boy." The lift tube arrived. Walton stepped to one side, allowed the Director to enter, and got in himself. FitzMaugham pushed Fourteen ; there was a coffee shop down there. Hesitantly, Walton pushed twenty , covering the panel with his arm so the old man would be unable to see his destination. As the tube began to descend, FitzMaugham said, "Did Mr. Prior come to see you this morning?" "Yes," Walton said. "He's the poet, isn't he? The one
" Gladney screamed and sat bolt upright. Nurse Gray jumped for him. "Are you crazy, you skinny rat?" Gray secured a hold on his shoulders and forced him down. "You gotta brake! Don't you understand that? You have to, you vacuum-skull!" Gray was pleading with him to shut-up like a good fellow. He appealed to her. "He's gotta brake! Make him!" "He has a good point there, Rat," she spoke up. "What about this half-way line?" He turned to her with a weary ghost of the old smile on his face. "We passed line. Three days ago, maybe." A shrug
through. Come back with man, find horrible thing happen." "But why didn't you explain?" He grinned again. "Who believe? Sick man die soon after." Gladney sat up. He had heard the conversation between the two. "You're right, Rat. No one would have believed you then, and no one will now. You've been safe enough on Mars, but the police will nab you as soon as you get out of the ship." "They can't!" cried Patti Gray. "They can't hurt him after what he's done now." The Centaurian grinned in a cynical way. "Police not get me, Gladney. Gladney's memory damn
traveling down with the director. He felt that his purpose must seem nakedly obvious now. The old man's eyes were twinkling amusedly. "I guess you get off here," he said. "I hope you catch up with your work soon, Roy. You really should take some time off for relaxation each day." "I'll try, sir." Walton stepped out of the tube and returned FitzMaugham's smile as the door closed again. Bitter thoughts assailed him as soon as he was alone. Some fine criminal you are. You've given the show away already! And damn that smooth paternal smile. FitzMaugham knows! He must
back in the chair. Gladney unexpectedly exploded. He had been awake for a long time, watching Rat at the board. Wrenching loose a chest strap he attempted to sit up. "Rat! Damn you Rat, listen to me! When're you going to start braking , Rat?" "I hear you." He turned on Gladney with dulled eyes. "Lie down. You sick." "I'll be damned if I'm going to lie here and let you drive us to Orion! We must be near the half-way line! When are you going to start braking?" "Not brake," Rat answered sullenly. "No, not brake." " Not brake?
Question:
Why is Cassal on his way to Tunney 21?
Answer:
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[
"Cassal is sent on a business trip by Neuronics, Inc., to visit Tunney 21 to see a man. Tunney 21, according to the first counselor, is home to some of the galaxy's most genius scientists. It is later revealed that Neuronics, Inc. wants that man on their staff back on Earth. The man would work towards the company's goal of developing instantaneous radio; this radio system would impact the entire galaxy, technology that could share information with every planet with no time delay. This radio would dominate means of transportation, communications, and commerce. For these reasons, Cassal is not eager to disclose his plans for going to Tunney 21.",
"Denton Cassal was selected to make the journey to Tunney 21 because he is the best sales engineer at Neuronics, Inc. He is secretive about why he wants to go to Tunney 21. He reveals that he wants to go to Tunney 21 to find a research worker that could help Neuronics perfect their instantaneous radio. If he were able to convince the researcher to go to Earth and work on the radio, he would get a share of the profits. An instantaneous radio would be invaluable throughout the galaxy, the profits for both Neuronics and him would be large. ",
"Cassal is a sales engineer back on Earth where he did very good since he matched very well to his instrument. Thus he was selected to go on a trip to see a man. Since this man is at Tunney 21, Cassal has to travel all the way from Earth to Tunney 21. Tunney 21 has great scientists and especially the one that works on Neuronics. If Earth can get his help, then Earth will have perfect instantaneous radio that span the whole Galaxy. Because of its monopoly in instantaneousness and vastness, Earth can literally set its own price. Thus, for this trip to Tunney 21, with the help of Dimanche, Cassal needs to persuade the researcher to come with him to Earth. This way he can also gain profit from the instantaneous radio which will be build afterward.",
"Cassal is on his way to Tunney 21 in order to convince a Tunnesian scientist to join his company, Neuronics. From the pieces of the scientist’s research that had reached Earth, it was concluded that he would be instrumental in perfecting instantaneous radio, a technology which would revolutionize communication in the galaxy. Neuronics aims to monopolize the technology and amass great wealth, from which Cassal would receive a commission.\nCassal, because of his possession of Dimanche, an intelligent implant capable of determining the thoughts of those nearby, is in a good position to negotiate terms with the scientist for two reasons: firstly because he will be able to guess the Tunnesian’s price, and secondly because Dimanche’s sophisticated technology will convince him that Earth is an advanced civilization.\n"
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up a little." FitzMaugham chuckled. "In another century or two, you mean. I'm afraid you'll never learn how to relax, my boy." The lift tube arrived. Walton stepped to one side, allowed the Director to enter, and got in himself. FitzMaugham pushed Fourteen ; there was a coffee shop down there. Hesitantly, Walton pushed twenty , covering the panel with his arm so the old man would be unable to see his destination. As the tube began to descend, FitzMaugham said, "Did Mr. Prior come to see you this morning?" "Yes," Walton said. "He's the poet, isn't he? The one
" Gladney screamed and sat bolt upright. Nurse Gray jumped for him. "Are you crazy, you skinny rat?" Gray secured a hold on his shoulders and forced him down. "You gotta brake! Don't you understand that? You have to, you vacuum-skull!" Gray was pleading with him to shut-up like a good fellow. He appealed to her. "He's gotta brake! Make him!" "He has a good point there, Rat," she spoke up. "What about this half-way line?" He turned to her with a weary ghost of the old smile on his face. "We passed line. Three days ago, maybe." A shrug
through. Come back with man, find horrible thing happen." "But why didn't you explain?" He grinned again. "Who believe? Sick man die soon after." Gladney sat up. He had heard the conversation between the two. "You're right, Rat. No one would have believed you then, and no one will now. You've been safe enough on Mars, but the police will nab you as soon as you get out of the ship." "They can't!" cried Patti Gray. "They can't hurt him after what he's done now." The Centaurian grinned in a cynical way. "Police not get me, Gladney. Gladney's memory damn
traveling down with the director. He felt that his purpose must seem nakedly obvious now. The old man's eyes were twinkling amusedly. "I guess you get off here," he said. "I hope you catch up with your work soon, Roy. You really should take some time off for relaxation each day." "I'll try, sir." Walton stepped out of the tube and returned FitzMaugham's smile as the door closed again. Bitter thoughts assailed him as soon as he was alone. Some fine criminal you are. You've given the show away already! And damn that smooth paternal smile. FitzMaugham knows! He must
back in the chair. Gladney unexpectedly exploded. He had been awake for a long time, watching Rat at the board. Wrenching loose a chest strap he attempted to sit up. "Rat! Damn you Rat, listen to me! When're you going to start braking , Rat?" "I hear you." He turned on Gladney with dulled eyes. "Lie down. You sick." "I'll be damned if I'm going to lie here and let you drive us to Orion! We must be near the half-way line! When are you going to start braking?" "Not brake," Rat answered sullenly. "No, not brake." " Not brake?
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Who is Murra Foray and how is she significant to the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Delay in Transit by F. L. (Floyd L.) Wallace.
Relevant chunks:
record," said Mury softly. Ryd's suspicions came back abruptly, and he reverted to his old kicked-dog manner. "How do you know? And what's it to you?" All at once, Mury came to a stop, and swung around to face him squarely, hard eyes compelling. They were on an overpass, not far from where the vast, almost wholly deserted offices of the Triplanet Freighting Company sprawled over a square mile of city. A half-smile twisted Mury's thin lips. "Don't misunderstand me, Ryd—you mean nothing at all to me as an individual. But you're one of a vast mass of men for
press a button—it won't cost you nuttin'—see a passionate drama of long-vanished Mu or the bloodhounds pursuing Eliza." "All honor be laid at the feet of free trade, but, whatever your race or your birth, each passenger curls up with two dancing girls who rides in the taxi from Earth." "Couldn't we—couldn't we walk? At least part of the way?" Michael faltered. Carpenter stared. "Walk! Don't you know it's forbidden to walk more than two hundred yards in any one direction? Fomalhautians never walk." "But they have no feet." "That has nothing whatsoever to do with it." Carpenter gently urged
get the dope on State Serial designations, how they're assigned and so forth. Especially how they might be changed." She put a handsteno on the desk top and said, "Name? Address? Post?" I froze. I stood there and stared at her. She looked up and said, "Well?" "I—er—no post at present. N/P status." Her fingers moved on the steno. I gave her my address and she recorded that. Then I paused again. She said, "And your name?" I took a deep breath and told her. I didn't want to look into her eyes. I wanted to look away, but I
He got out chokingly, "What's that mean?" "The power shell—isn't coming in as planned." "You can't do that." " We can," said Mury with a heavy accent on the first word. "And there are fifty thousand credits in it for you, Ryd. Are you with us?" Suspicion was chill reality now in Ryd's mind. And he knew one thing certainly—if he refused now to accompany Mury, he would be killed, by this man or another of his kind. For the secret power known only as We never took chances. Whispered-of, terrible, and world-embracing, desperate upshot of the times in its
spilled the sugar?" "Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?" She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet." He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?" "Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back." He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on
Question:
Who is Murra Foray and how is she significant to the story?
Answer:
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[
"Murra Foray is the First Counselor of the Traveler's Aid Bureau on Godolph. Little is known about her personally, other than the fact that she is a Huntner, a people from across the Galaxy. Foray was an intimidating, cold woman, who was particularly curious about Cassal. Upon Cassal's arrival, she interrogates him about his personal life before offering help. Additionally, once Cassal realizes he had missed the ship to Tunney 21, and is stranded on Godolph, Murra Foray offers little support or sympathy. Instead, she reprimands him for lack of identification and nevertheless presses for a financial contribution. Foray is a mysterious character, whose motives are questioned, especially by Dimanche; while Dimanche is usually able to read people, Foray had electronic guards protecting information, indicating that the Traveler's Aid Bureau is hiding something.",
"Murra Foray is the First Counselor at Travelers Aid Bureau. She is significant to the story because Cassal goes to her for help because he is unsure where the ship is that is supposed to take him to Tunney 21. She is described as being cool, clean, and with bright eyes. She is possibly younger than Cassal. Murra informs Cassal that without his identification card, no ship would be willing to let him board as identification is necessary to leave the ship in the region that Tunney 21 is located. She describes the Travelers Aid Bureau as a philanthropic agency that can help him solve his issue, for a price. She informs him that they will keep him informed. \n\nDimanche assesses Murra and claims that she is a Huntner, which is a sub-race of men that are located on the other side of the galaxy. Dimanche was not able to gather more information because she was blocking him from collecting data. After Cassal questions an old man about Murra, he receives a jarring reaction that he waves off without concern. \n",
"Murra Foray is the first counselor of the travelers aid bureau, she looks enigmatic and dangerous. At first, she is doubtful about Cassel’s destination to Tunney 21 and his occupation as a sales engineer. She points out that there are a thousand races, how is Cassal able to have special knowledge of all those different types of customers. \n\nLater she tells Cassal that his ship has already left in the morning. And no one is sure when the next ship will be coming to Godolph. Murra suggests five years if lucky. Star hopping would also take that much of time since he has only covered one third of the whole distance. Then later Murra realizes that someone has already boarded the ship under Cassal’s name, using Cassal’s identification. Now the stalker’s motive of stealing his wallet becomes clear. Then Murra suggests that he donate to the bureau so that they will help him with his special case, which he did. Afterwards, Dimanche suggest that Murra is a Huntner. But before Dimanche can learn anything else, the electronic guards stopped him. Outside the building of the bureau, Cassal learned that even the old man switching the signs on the building is afraid of Murra Foray. ",
"Murra Foray is the new first counselor at the Travelers Aid Bureau on Godolph. She is a Huntner, a sub-race of humans from the other side of the galaxy. First appearing on a screen in a Bureau counseling room in which the protagonist Denton Cassal enters, she asks him to fill out a questionnaire. Cassal is unable to determine her age, but comments that she is taller than average, lean, and has a broad face that narrows at her chin. \n\tMurra asks Cassal why he has not answered the question about the purpose of his onward journey to Tunney 21, and speculates that it is to recruit a scientist for his company. She reveals to him that the transport for which he had been waiting had already departed, and offers her help in arranging alternate transportation to Tunney. She elicits a monetary donation from Cassal before terminating their conversation. \n\tAs Cassal leaves the counseling room, he encounters an old technician who seems afraid of Murra. \n"
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record," said Mury softly. Ryd's suspicions came back abruptly, and he reverted to his old kicked-dog manner. "How do you know? And what's it to you?" All at once, Mury came to a stop, and swung around to face him squarely, hard eyes compelling. They were on an overpass, not far from where the vast, almost wholly deserted offices of the Triplanet Freighting Company sprawled over a square mile of city. A half-smile twisted Mury's thin lips. "Don't misunderstand me, Ryd—you mean nothing at all to me as an individual. But you're one of a vast mass of men for
press a button—it won't cost you nuttin'—see a passionate drama of long-vanished Mu or the bloodhounds pursuing Eliza." "All honor be laid at the feet of free trade, but, whatever your race or your birth, each passenger curls up with two dancing girls who rides in the taxi from Earth." "Couldn't we—couldn't we walk? At least part of the way?" Michael faltered. Carpenter stared. "Walk! Don't you know it's forbidden to walk more than two hundred yards in any one direction? Fomalhautians never walk." "But they have no feet." "That has nothing whatsoever to do with it." Carpenter gently urged
get the dope on State Serial designations, how they're assigned and so forth. Especially how they might be changed." She put a handsteno on the desk top and said, "Name? Address? Post?" I froze. I stood there and stared at her. She looked up and said, "Well?" "I—er—no post at present. N/P status." Her fingers moved on the steno. I gave her my address and she recorded that. Then I paused again. She said, "And your name?" I took a deep breath and told her. I didn't want to look into her eyes. I wanted to look away, but I
He got out chokingly, "What's that mean?" "The power shell—isn't coming in as planned." "You can't do that." " We can," said Mury with a heavy accent on the first word. "And there are fifty thousand credits in it for you, Ryd. Are you with us?" Suspicion was chill reality now in Ryd's mind. And he knew one thing certainly—if he refused now to accompany Mury, he would be killed, by this man or another of his kind. For the secret power known only as We never took chances. Whispered-of, terrible, and world-embracing, desperate upshot of the times in its
spilled the sugar?" "Part of the reason," he said. "What's a snoll doper ?" She laughed. "I don't think I'd better tell you just yet." He sighed again. "But if Jilka wanted a snoll doper ," he said after a while, "why in the world didn't she call you up and say so?" "Regulations." She pulled over to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. "This is where Jilka lives. I'll explain when I get back." He watched her get out, walk up the walk to the entrance and let herself in. He leaned his head back on
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Who is Dimanche, and how is he used in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Delay in Transit by F. L. (Floyd L.) Wallace.
Relevant chunks:
schizophrenia is caused by inner conflict—indecision between the older values and our present ones which he hasn't been able to accept. A complete case history would tell why he can't accept our present attitudes. I would say that he has an incipient fear of personal inadequacy, which is why he fears our desire for conquest. He's rationalized, built up a defense which he's structured with his idealism, foundationed with Old Era values. Retreat into the past, an escape from his own present feelings of inadequacy. Also, he escapes into these dream fantasies." "Yes," Terrence said. "But how does that account
edge, and birds as delicate as colored glass wavered down the wind. He opened the shelter door and went out. The shelter looked the same, but useless now. How did the shelter of that bleak world get into this one, where the air was warm and fragrant, where there was no cold, from that world into this one of his dreams? The girl—Helene—was standing there leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. He walked toward her, and stopped. In the dream it had been easy, but now he was embarrassed, in spite of the intimacy that had grown between them.
hastily of the fruit before Sim could gain his feet. Then Sim hurled himself unsteadily, the two of them fell in a ridiculous jumble, rolling, until Dark pried them, squalling, apart. Sim bled. A part of him stood off, like a god, and said, "This should not be. Children should not be this way. It is wrong!" Dark slapped the little intruding boy away. "Get on!" she cried. "What's your name, bad one?" "Chion!" laughed the boy. "Chion, Chion, Chion!" Sim glared at him with all the ferocity in his small, unskilled features. He choked. This was his enemy. It
much about them." "But how could a man alive today buy paintings from an artist of the Renaissance?" "He is not alive today. POSAT is actually what our advertisements claim—an ancient secret society. Our founder has been dead for over four centuries." "But you said that he designed your atomic reactor." "Yes. This particular one has been in use for only twenty years, however." Don's confusion was complete. Crandon looked at him kindly. "Let's start at the beginning," he said, and Don was back again in the classroom with the deep voice of Professor Crandon unfolding the pages of knowledge
was as if he'd waited for an enemy of person as well as scene. He had already understood the avalanches, the heat, the cold, the shortness of life, but these were things of places, of scene—mute, extravagant manifestations of unthinking nature, not motivated save by gravity and radiation. Here, now, in this stridulent Chion he recognized a thinking enemy! Chion darted off, turned at a distance, tauntingly crying: "Tomorrow I will be big enough to kill you!" And he vanished around a rock. More children ran, giggling, by Sim. Which of them would be friends, enemies? How could friends and
Question:
Who is Dimanche, and how is he used in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Dimanche is a device attached to Cassal's ear that is able to collect physiological data on a person, including nervous systems and physical reactions to stimuli. In addition, Dimanche is able to understand what people \"subvocalize\", or think to themselves in their subconscious. In the story, Dimanche's abilities are shown when he is able to read the thoughts of Cassal's attacker as well as his body's reactions to Cassal's movements, such as his heart rate and blood pressure. Dimanche's features also give Cassal an advantage in his work as a salesperson, as he is able to gauge people's thoughts, motives, and desires. Dimanche is a secret kept from the rest of the galaxy, and Cassal is hesitant to tell others about his abilities.",
"Dimanche is an electronic instrument that was invented on Earth. Cassal refers to Dimanche as a device. It is a secret instrument that very few know about. It has the ability to scan the nervous systems of individuals at short distances to collect and interpret data. He is used in the story to analyze the data that he collects from people nearby to complete a report of what a person says and thinks inside of their head. ",
"Dimanche is a device invented on Earth to help Cassal analyze people. Dimanche is first used to help Cassel notice a man that is stalking him, Dimanche gives his analysis and interpretations about that man, confirming his intention. Dimanche believes that there is some connection between the delay in the transit ship to Tunney 21 and the stalker. So Cassal decides to let the guy find him and see what he is trying to do. When the guy tries to hurt Cassal, Dimanche helps him to fight the man since Cassal cannot see the guy after dark. With Dimanche’s information, Cassal is able to stab the guy. Then he realizes that he has accidentally killed him after Dimanche found no heartbeat and he is not breathing. But neither Dimanche nor Cassal is aware of their ability to pretend to be dead. So before Cassal could react to Dimanche’s warning, he gets hit and his wallet is stolen by the guy. \n\nLater at the travelers aid bureau, we learn that Dimanche is quite crucial to bring the researcher back to Earth. Moreover, Dimanche thought there’s something weird about the Murra Foray, the first counselor of the travelers aid bureau, but he could not identify anything else before the electric guards slide into place. ",
"Dimanche is a device implanted next to the bone behind Denton Cassal’s ear which is able to detect various things about people in proximity to him. Among these things are heart rate, neural index, mental state, and motivation. An intelligent machine, Dimanche is also able to determine any concealed weapons, and can silently communicate with Cassal. Dimanche is an example of the advanced technology of Earth, and Cassal hopes to demonstrate it to a scientist on Tunney 21 to convince him to join Neuronics Inc., in developing instantaneous radio. \n\tCassal employs Dimanche’s capabilities several times throughout the story, often without giving explicit instructions. It is first employed in assessing the mental states and likely motivations of Cassal’s assailant. Dimanche is able to locate the assailant when Cassal’s eyes, in virtue of the poor lighting, could not, and is able to communicate his location to Cassal. Later, Dimanche is used in the Traveler’s Aid Bureau to gather information about Murra Fora, but, as it reaches her, electronic guards prevent it from gathering any information other than her planet of origin. \n"
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schizophrenia is caused by inner conflict—indecision between the older values and our present ones which he hasn't been able to accept. A complete case history would tell why he can't accept our present attitudes. I would say that he has an incipient fear of personal inadequacy, which is why he fears our desire for conquest. He's rationalized, built up a defense which he's structured with his idealism, foundationed with Old Era values. Retreat into the past, an escape from his own present feelings of inadequacy. Also, he escapes into these dream fantasies." "Yes," Terrence said. "But how does that account
edge, and birds as delicate as colored glass wavered down the wind. He opened the shelter door and went out. The shelter looked the same, but useless now. How did the shelter of that bleak world get into this one, where the air was warm and fragrant, where there was no cold, from that world into this one of his dreams? The girl—Helene—was standing there leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. He walked toward her, and stopped. In the dream it had been easy, but now he was embarrassed, in spite of the intimacy that had grown between them.
hastily of the fruit before Sim could gain his feet. Then Sim hurled himself unsteadily, the two of them fell in a ridiculous jumble, rolling, until Dark pried them, squalling, apart. Sim bled. A part of him stood off, like a god, and said, "This should not be. Children should not be this way. It is wrong!" Dark slapped the little intruding boy away. "Get on!" she cried. "What's your name, bad one?" "Chion!" laughed the boy. "Chion, Chion, Chion!" Sim glared at him with all the ferocity in his small, unskilled features. He choked. This was his enemy. It
much about them." "But how could a man alive today buy paintings from an artist of the Renaissance?" "He is not alive today. POSAT is actually what our advertisements claim—an ancient secret society. Our founder has been dead for over four centuries." "But you said that he designed your atomic reactor." "Yes. This particular one has been in use for only twenty years, however." Don's confusion was complete. Crandon looked at him kindly. "Let's start at the beginning," he said, and Don was back again in the classroom with the deep voice of Professor Crandon unfolding the pages of knowledge
was as if he'd waited for an enemy of person as well as scene. He had already understood the avalanches, the heat, the cold, the shortness of life, but these were things of places, of scene—mute, extravagant manifestations of unthinking nature, not motivated save by gravity and radiation. Here, now, in this stridulent Chion he recognized a thinking enemy! Chion darted off, turned at a distance, tauntingly crying: "Tomorrow I will be big enough to kill you!" And he vanished around a rock. More children ran, giggling, by Sim. Which of them would be friends, enemies? How could friends and
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Describe the setting of the story.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Delay in Transit by F. L. (Floyd L.) Wallace.
Relevant chunks:
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
the uneven terrain. "Oh, the bag!" she gasped. "I've dropped it." He chuckled again. "Have got. You scare, I catch." She didn't see the ship because of the wind in her eyes, but without warning she plummeted down and her feet jarred on the lip of the lock. "Inside. No noise, no light. Easy." But in spite of his warning she tripped in the darkness. He helped her from the floor and guided her to the hammocks. "Judith?" she asked. "Here. Beside you, trussed up so tight I can hardly breathe." "No talk!" Rat insisted. "Much hush-hush needed. Other girl
dumbly. "Would you prefer to use your—skiff? It is quite a long way from here." It was indeed a long way, even by skiff. Some of the Aliencon crew went along with them. And near the edge of the twilight zone, on the other side of the world, they saw the Factory outlined in the dim light of dusk. A huge, fantastic block, wrought of gray and cloudy metal, lay in a valley between two worn mountains. Steffens went down low, circling in the skiff, stared in awe at the size of the building. Robots moved outside the thing, little
An elaborate description of the boy in great detail followed, ending with blood type, agglutinating characteristic, and gene-pattern, codified. Walton skipped impatiently through that and came to the notification typed in curt, impersonal green capital letters at the bottom of the card: EXAMINED AT N Y EUTH CLINIC 10 JUNE 2332 EUTHANASIA RECOMMENDED He glanced at his watch: the time was 1026. The boy was probably still somewhere in the clinic lab, waiting for the figurative axe to descend. Walton had set up the schedule himself: the gas chamber delivered Happysleep each day at 1100 and 1500. He had about
Question:
Describe the setting of the story.
Answer:
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[
"The story takes place in a city on Godolph, a planet that acts as a transfer location in between stars. Godolph is a threatening and violent city, not safe for ordinary humans. A unique feature of Godolph is that its environment is specifically catered to natives, where the weather is controlled, often with heavy rain. The city is compared to Venice, where water is used as a mode of transport and essential to engineering. Additionally, at dusk the city becomes dark for travelers, but bright for its natives. ",
"The story is set on Godolph, in a Godolphian city. Violence occurs in these cities and they typically shut down at dusk. Being a human pedestrian at night is not a safe option. Cassal is on Godolph as it is in between Earth, which he left, and Tunney 21, where he intends to go. He describes Godolph as a backwards planet. As Cassal is walking on the street, there is a tide of water that is used by Godolphian’s as a transportation network. He is walking in the rain as that is the type of weather preferred by Godolphian’s. \n\nCassal heads down an alley at the direction of Dimanche. The alley is narrow and dark with a slow-moving, oily type of water jutting from one side and large walls standing overhead on the other side. \n\nEventually, Cassal finds himself at the Travelers Aid Bureau. The building is shaped like a square block. The Bureau was similar to a maze inside with many small counseling rooms. A\n\nCassal is only 1/3 of the distance to Tunnel 21. \n",
"The story is set at the place called Godolph. Godolph is the place that travelers transfer from a star that is located further from the Galaxy to the stars that are located near the center of the Galaxy. The story follows Cassal as he walk to the deserted intersection to fight with the guy since Dimanche suggests that there is a connection between him and the delay in his ship. After fighting with the guy, he gets the guys wallet but loses his. Without his identification, he comes to the travelers aid bureau. Here he has to answer questions in order to get a consultation. And during the consultation he learns about missing the ship and about someone who boarded the ship using his identity. Then the story ends with him walking out of the bureau building and asking an old man about Murra Foray, but apparently he is too afraid to answer him. ",
"The first scene of the story takes place on the poorly illuminated streets of the planet Godolph. The natives of the planet have sensitive eyes, and as a result the streets appear dimly lit for human eyes. It rains often on Godolph, whose climate is controlled by its amphibian inhabitants who are fond of rain. A means of transportation on Godolph is the transport tide, rapidly moving water which carries Godolphian natives to their destination quickly and quietly. In the scene where Cassal is confronted by an assailant, there is oily water moving on one side of a narrow alley, and high walls on the opposite side. \n\tThe second half of the story is set in the labyrinthine Travelers Aid Bureau, whose busy corridors are pocketed with small counseling rooms. In each counseling room is a small door into which visitors can deposit contributions to the agency. \n"
] |
50998
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The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
the uneven terrain. "Oh, the bag!" she gasped. "I've dropped it." He chuckled again. "Have got. You scare, I catch." She didn't see the ship because of the wind in her eyes, but without warning she plummeted down and her feet jarred on the lip of the lock. "Inside. No noise, no light. Easy." But in spite of his warning she tripped in the darkness. He helped her from the floor and guided her to the hammocks. "Judith?" she asked. "Here. Beside you, trussed up so tight I can hardly breathe." "No talk!" Rat insisted. "Much hush-hush needed. Other girl
dumbly. "Would you prefer to use your—skiff? It is quite a long way from here." It was indeed a long way, even by skiff. Some of the Aliencon crew went along with them. And near the edge of the twilight zone, on the other side of the world, they saw the Factory outlined in the dim light of dusk. A huge, fantastic block, wrought of gray and cloudy metal, lay in a valley between two worn mountains. Steffens went down low, circling in the skiff, stared in awe at the size of the building. Robots moved outside the thing, little
An elaborate description of the boy in great detail followed, ending with blood type, agglutinating characteristic, and gene-pattern, codified. Walton skipped impatiently through that and came to the notification typed in curt, impersonal green capital letters at the bottom of the card: EXAMINED AT N Y EUTH CLINIC 10 JUNE 2332 EUTHANASIA RECOMMENDED He glanced at his watch: the time was 1026. The boy was probably still somewhere in the clinic lab, waiting for the figurative axe to descend. Walton had set up the schedule himself: the gas chamber delivered Happysleep each day at 1100 and 1500. He had about
|
How are Opperly and Farquar alike and different?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Appointment In Tomorrow by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
dark morass of despair. He may try anything to retrieve his lost happiness, rid his soul of its dark oppression. His world-sickness is like a crying hunger—By the way, where is he now?" "Below, I guess. In his quarters." "Ah, good! Perhaps he is sleeping. Let us hope so. In slumber he will find peace and forgetfulness." But Dr. Loesch would have been far less sanguine had some power the "giftie gi'en" him of watching Isobar Jones at that moment. Isobar was not asleep. Far from it. Wide awake and very much astir, he was acting in a singularly sinister
The Girls From Fieu Dayol By ROBERT F. YOUNG They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the
then sent him to Marscol as a dangerous nonconform. If you were disappointed with your new designation, you didn't complain. You didn't want a sudden visit from the Deacons during the night. There had to be renumbering. We all understood that. With the population of Northem already past two billion, the old designations were too clumsy. Renumbering was efficient. It contributed to the good of Northem. It helped advance the warless struggle with Southem. The equator is the boundary. I understand that once there was a political difference and that the two superstates sprawled longitudinally, not latitudinally, over the globe.
A human body. "Look at it!" Loyce snapped. "Come on out here!" Don Fergusson came slowly out of the store, buttoning his pin-stripe coat with dignity. "This is a big deal, Ed. I can't just leave the guy standing there." "See it?" Ed pointed into the gathering gloom. The lamppost jutted up against the sky—the post and the bundle swinging from it. "There it is. How the hell long has it been there?" His voice rose excitedly. "What's wrong with everybody? They just walk on past!" Don Fergusson lit a cigarette slowly. "Take it easy, old man. There must be
hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out.
Question:
How are Opperly and Farquar alike and different?
Answer:
|
[
"Opperly and Farquar are both physicists. They both have the same role in society as possessing knowledge and abilities to create technology and machinery. However, despite their similar titles, they are drastically different, both in appearance and character. Opperly is an elderly man, who looks timid and meek, though wise, next to the young, large, and impulsive Farquar. Opperly acts as a rational voice, discouraging Farquar from his rebellious and violent nature, specifically towards the Thinkers. Opperly, having lived through history, is hesitant to threaten the authority of the Thinkers and instead understands that society is in need of them. He believes that scientists should not have a place in taking action and being violent, and instead should allow the Thinkers to uphold the nation. Farquar, on the other hand, is a man of action who believes the Thinkers are immoral and inauthentic. He contrasts Opperly's reasonable nature with passion and free thinking.",
"Morton Opperly and Willard Farquar are both physicists, though they hail from different generations. They share in the knowledge that the Thinkers’ have deceived members at the highest level of government and have exposed them, to little success. Opperly, an older physicist from the age of academic scientists, is reserved and skeptical about future attempts to do the same. Farquar, however, is youthful and frustrated about their situation. Whereas Opperly is unable to imagine scientists such as Einstein and Oppenheimer using violence to achieve their ends, Farquar condemns them for wasting their opportunities to shape the future with their knowledge of atomic power. ",
"Morton Opperly is an elderly physicist. William Farquar is much younger and he too is a scientist. Opperly’s positions reflected his elderly age with his living room having books, pen and ink, and a Picasso painting. Farquar wants to continue to poke at the Thinkers to expose them for their lies. Opperly does not agree with this strategy because he does not know what is best for the planet. While he does not agree with Farquar’s desire to act upon their knowledge of the Thinkers’ lies, he does call them animals. Farquar responds by saying that he feels like an animal because he feels trapped in a cage. Opperly believes it is not worth fighting with the Thinkers, but Farquar wants the fight and he wants violence. ",
"Opperly believes that the world needs magicians right now, not them, the physicists. In the bad times, people would go desperately looking for the magic cure, while in the good times the magicians are laughed at and physicists respected. He understands that the power of the Thinkers lies in what they do not have at the moment, which is peace, honor, good conscience, etc. Farquar on the other hand thinks that they need to perform action. Thus after overruling Opperly, Farquar and other physicists decided to send teasing questions for Maizie to answer. This question indeed got Jorj, the Thinker, unhappy, and he tells the Secretary of Space to investigate it. \n\nFarquar predicts that the Thinkers will need their help in building all those machineries that they faked. Indeed, the invitation gets to them, and it is sent by Jorj stating that they should work together, and mentioning that the Thinkers have quite a lot of government funds. While Opperly thinks that the Thinkers did not simply send the invitation asking for their help, Farquar believes that he will not be persuaded to change his mind at all. "
] |
51152
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dark morass of despair. He may try anything to retrieve his lost happiness, rid his soul of its dark oppression. His world-sickness is like a crying hunger—By the way, where is he now?" "Below, I guess. In his quarters." "Ah, good! Perhaps he is sleeping. Let us hope so. In slumber he will find peace and forgetfulness." But Dr. Loesch would have been far less sanguine had some power the "giftie gi'en" him of watching Isobar Jones at that moment. Isobar was not asleep. Far from it. Wide awake and very much astir, he was acting in a singularly sinister
The Girls From Fieu Dayol By ROBERT F. YOUNG They were lovely and quick to learn—and their only faults were little ones! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Up until the moment when he first looked into Hippolyte Adolphe Taine's History of English Literature , Herbert Quidley's penchant for old books had netted him nothing in the way of romance and intrigue. Not that he was a stranger to either. Far from it. But hitherto the
then sent him to Marscol as a dangerous nonconform. If you were disappointed with your new designation, you didn't complain. You didn't want a sudden visit from the Deacons during the night. There had to be renumbering. We all understood that. With the population of Northem already past two billion, the old designations were too clumsy. Renumbering was efficient. It contributed to the good of Northem. It helped advance the warless struggle with Southem. The equator is the boundary. I understand that once there was a political difference and that the two superstates sprawled longitudinally, not latitudinally, over the globe.
A human body. "Look at it!" Loyce snapped. "Come on out here!" Don Fergusson came slowly out of the store, buttoning his pin-stripe coat with dignity. "This is a big deal, Ed. I can't just leave the guy standing there." "See it?" Ed pointed into the gathering gloom. The lamppost jutted up against the sky—the post and the bundle swinging from it. "There it is. How the hell long has it been there?" His voice rose excitedly. "What's wrong with everybody? They just walk on past!" Don Fergusson lit a cigarette slowly. "Take it easy, old man. There must be
hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out.
|
Who are the Thinkers and how are they significant to the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Appointment In Tomorrow by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
Why else would we have been built?" Steffens thought the robot would go on, but it didn't. The question, to Elb, was no question at all. Although Steffens knew already what the robot could not possibly have known—that the Makers were gone and would never come back—he was a long time understanding. What he did was push this speculation into the back of his mind, to keep it from Elb. He had no desire to destroy a faith. But it created a problem in him. He had begun to picture for Elb the structure of human society, and the robot—a
covered up his thoughts quickly. They can delve deeper than the surface of the mind. Or wasn't I keeping a leash on my thoughts? The Steel-Blue chuckled. "You get—absent-minded, is it?—every once in a while." Just then four other Steel-Blues appeared lugging great sheets of plastic and various other equipment. They dumped their loads and began unbundling them. Working swiftly, they built a plastic igloo, smaller than the living room in the larger service station igloo. They ranged instruments inside—one of them Jon Karyl recognized as an air pump from within the station—and they laid out a pallet. When they
and who thought that one day it might be habitable again. All the skill of the ancient Martian fathers went into the building of a giant machine, the machine that is the City, to protect a small colony of those who were chosen to remain on Mars." "This whole city is a machine!" Eric asked. "Yes, or the product of one. The heart of it lies underneath our feet, in caverns beneath this building. The nature of the machine is this, that it translates thought into reality." Eric stared. The idea was staggering. "This is essentially simple, although the technology
space ship. We've enough concentrated supplies to last for a year. How far do we go? Why? When?" They stepped upon the Earth and felt the warmth of the sun and strolled toward the top of the hill. "The air smells clean," he said. "The ground feels good. I think I'll take off my shoes." She did. "Take off your boots, Michael. Try it." Wearily he pulled off his boots, stood in his bare feet. "It takes me back." "Yes," she said and began walking toward the hilltop. He followed, his boots slung around his neck. "There was a road
food? Unpleasant? Sure. But the world had voted for it. Until Lang and his team succeeded in terraforming Venus, or until the faster-than-light outfit opened the stars to mankind, something had to be done about Earth's overpopulation. There were seven billion now and the figure was still growing. Prior's words haunted him. I was tubercular ... where would my poems be now? The big humble man was one of the great poets. Keats had been tubercular too. What good are poets? he asked himself savagely. The reply came swiftly: What good is anything, then? Keats, Shakespeare, Eliot, Yeats, Donne, Pound,
Question:
Who are the Thinkers and how are they significant to the story?
Answer:
|
[
"The Thinkers are magicians who dominate the current society. When America was in crisis post-World War III, they provided solutions to problems and questions, and acted as a more structured, moral, \"human\" group for leadership than physicists prior. The Thinkers are the creators of Maizie, a brain-like computer that answers any question; Maizie is used by many in government to make drastic decisions with the goal of preserving humanity. The Thinkers are also working towards a larger plan of moving their work to Mars, ultimately dominating Martians the same way they dominated Earth. There is also controversy surrounding the Thinkers, mainly from the Physicists, who believe that their work relies on the desperation of society and is fraudulent.",
"The Thinkers are a group of individuals led by Jorj Helmuth. Their members include Helmuth, a man who is an intermediary between government officials and the Thinkers’ super-intelligent machine Maizie, Tregarron, the man inside Maizie who produces its responses, and an unnamed astronaut who the world thinks travels to Mars and returns with Martian wisdom, when in fact he merely floats in the upper atmosphere. \nThe Thinkers have deceived government officials, including the President of the United States and his cabinet, with the use of Maizie, a machine which is advertised as being able to solve complex problems of every type. In fact, Maizie is operated by a man who writes its responses. The story revolves around an interaction between the President, his cabinet and Maizie; a discussion is also had between two physicists, Farquar and Opperly, who are aware of the Thinkers’ deception but are in disagreement with one another about whether their information should be more thoroughly shared. \n",
"The Thinkers are a group of people that won a Presidential election. Farquar exclaims that their power was not earned because of their technology but because the world is not at peace. The Thinkers are significant to the story because they make many claims about their technologies and innovations. They claim they built a cube called Maizie which is a brain machine. In addition, they have told people that they built Mars rockets with nuclear motors designed by Maizie. Neither of the two inventions are true, but rather they are deceptions. Farquar calls them Charlatans for the magician-like trickery they practice. ",
"The Thinkers are a group of charlatans that tells people what they wish to hear. But because of the times that they are in, people chooses to believe in magic. As Opperly mentions, when the time is good, people don’t need magicians. But when the time is bad, people would do anything just to get the magic cures. As Farquar sees, the Thinkers are simply lucky and are talented with their stage-managing skills. They uses the brain-machine to justify their guesses. The Thinkers have faked Maizie as well as rocket landing on Mars in order to have control over the government. All government officials would do exactly as what the Thinkers order them to do. However, the physicists knew what the Thinkers are doing, they know that their rocket did not go to Mars, Maizie is not a human-brain machine, and the mental science of the Martians is fake. But since they got the government’s support, Jorj sends an invitation to the physicists to support Jorj and the other Thinkers in building those actual machineries. Farquar thinks he should go while Opperly suggests it might be a trap. "
] |
51152
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Why else would we have been built?" Steffens thought the robot would go on, but it didn't. The question, to Elb, was no question at all. Although Steffens knew already what the robot could not possibly have known—that the Makers were gone and would never come back—he was a long time understanding. What he did was push this speculation into the back of his mind, to keep it from Elb. He had no desire to destroy a faith. But it created a problem in him. He had begun to picture for Elb the structure of human society, and the robot—a
covered up his thoughts quickly. They can delve deeper than the surface of the mind. Or wasn't I keeping a leash on my thoughts? The Steel-Blue chuckled. "You get—absent-minded, is it?—every once in a while." Just then four other Steel-Blues appeared lugging great sheets of plastic and various other equipment. They dumped their loads and began unbundling them. Working swiftly, they built a plastic igloo, smaller than the living room in the larger service station igloo. They ranged instruments inside—one of them Jon Karyl recognized as an air pump from within the station—and they laid out a pallet. When they
and who thought that one day it might be habitable again. All the skill of the ancient Martian fathers went into the building of a giant machine, the machine that is the City, to protect a small colony of those who were chosen to remain on Mars." "This whole city is a machine!" Eric asked. "Yes, or the product of one. The heart of it lies underneath our feet, in caverns beneath this building. The nature of the machine is this, that it translates thought into reality." Eric stared. The idea was staggering. "This is essentially simple, although the technology
space ship. We've enough concentrated supplies to last for a year. How far do we go? Why? When?" They stepped upon the Earth and felt the warmth of the sun and strolled toward the top of the hill. "The air smells clean," he said. "The ground feels good. I think I'll take off my shoes." She did. "Take off your boots, Michael. Try it." Wearily he pulled off his boots, stood in his bare feet. "It takes me back." "Yes," she said and began walking toward the hilltop. He followed, his boots slung around his neck. "There was a road
food? Unpleasant? Sure. But the world had voted for it. Until Lang and his team succeeded in terraforming Venus, or until the faster-than-light outfit opened the stars to mankind, something had to be done about Earth's overpopulation. There were seven billion now and the figure was still growing. Prior's words haunted him. I was tubercular ... where would my poems be now? The big humble man was one of the great poets. Keats had been tubercular too. What good are poets? he asked himself savagely. The reply came swiftly: What good is anything, then? Keats, Shakespeare, Eliot, Yeats, Donne, Pound,
|
How does Maizie work, and how is this significant to the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Appointment In Tomorrow by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
blond and blue-eyed hero goes into battle wearing diapers, and carrying only a hammer to fight with! You're the most unforgettable character I have ever known!" He'd passed inspection, then—so far. He expelled his withheld breath, and said, "I think you'll find me a little odd, in some ways." "Oh, not at all," Ida replied quickly. "Different, yes, but I wouldn't say odd." When they started down the street, she was nervous despite Roddie's assertion that he knew where the soldiers were posted. He wondered if she felt some of the doubt he'd tried to conceal, shared his visions of
bag suddenly and leaned against a fence post, rolling his head on his forearms and choking in spasms of air. He was shaking all over, and his belly writhed. He wanted to turn and run. He wanted to crawl out in the grass and hide. What were they going to say? And Marie, Marie most of all. How was he going to tell her about the money? Six hitches in space, and every time the promise had been the same: One more tour, baby, and we'll have enough dough, and then I'll quit for good. One more time, and we'll
trees from the field. He got over the hedge somehow, and started through the trees toward the house. He stumbled over some old boards, and they clattered. " Shhh! " he hissed, and moved on. The dogs were barking angrily, and he heard a screen door slam. He stopped. "Ho there!" a male voice called experimentally from the house. One of Marie's brothers. Hogey stood frozen in the shadow of a peach tree, waiting. "Anybody out there?" the man called again. Hogey waited, then heard the man muttering, "Sic 'im, boy, sic 'im." The hound's bark became eager. The animal
around here?" It was obvious that the big man had taken him for a hobo or a tramp. Hogey pulled himself together. "Goin' to the Hauptman's place. Marie. You know Marie?" The farmer's eyebrows went up. "Marie Hauptman? Sure I know her. Only she's Marie Parker now. Has been, nigh on six years. Say—" He paused, then gaped. "You ain't her husband by any chance?" "Hogey, that's me. Big Hogey Parker." "Well, I'll be—! Get in the car. I'm going right past John Hauptman's place. Boy, you're in no shape to walk it." He grinned wryly, waggled his head, and
his home, not south? Could a man get so confused as to forget things he'd known all his life? He reached the Shanks' place, and passed it at a trot. Then he was beyond their boundaries and breaking regulations again. He stayed on the road. He went by a small house and saw colored folks in the yard. There'd been no colored folks here. There'd been Eli Bergen and his family and his mother, in a bigger, newer house. The colored folks heard Plum's hooves and looked up and stared. Then a man raised his voice. "Mistah, you breakin' regulations!
Question:
How does Maizie work, and how is this significant to the story?
Answer:
|
[
"Maizie is a large contraption that occupies a room in the Thinker's Foundation. It consists of various controls, cables, and synapses, more than the human brain. It reads questions through information fed on a tape. Once Maizie processes the questions and conjures up answers, it delivers information back through a man who translates the tape into an answer. The main point regarding Maizie is that little to no one knows how it truly works, which is why it is regarded even by the President as a superior guide for intelligence. Maizie appears to be intimidating with its incomprehensible parts and gadgets, but the process in which it delivers simple answers to questions allows the public to trust it with decisions.",
"Maizie, which is regarded as a super-intelligent computer capable of answering complex problems about governance and political strategy, is in fact merely a unit housing a man who manually answers the questions posed to the machine. Jorj Helmuth, a member of a group called the Thinkers, inputs questions onto tape which are fed to Maizie, and the tape rolls along inside the machine and emerges in the room containing the man. He tapes out answers, which are output and given by Jorj to those who asked the question. \nThis deception is a common strategy of the Thinkers, who have also faked travel to Mars, among other inventions. However, they hope to one day be able to construct all those things in order to stand on equal footing as scientists.\nMaizie is a means by which the Thinkers have influenced politics, and through which they have acquired power. It is hypothesized by Opperly, an elderly physicist, who knows how Maizie works, that the success of the deception is a result of their era, which yearns for fantastical solutions. The decision to reveal Maizie to the world is a topic of conversation between Opperly and a younger member of his group, Willard Farquar, who wants to expose the machine. \n",
"Maizie is a brain machine built by the Thinkers. The Thinkers publicly claim that is a million times more synapses than a human brain. They say that Maizie has incredible intelligent capabilities. The reason Maizie is significant to the story is that Opperly and Farquar reveal how Maizie is actually fake. Someone records the answers for Maizie to recite. The Thinkers came into power because they were able to present incredible feats of technology like Maizie, but the technology turns out to not actually exist. Jorj Helmuth claims to be the mind that is behind the ‘mind’ of Maizie. ",
"Maizie is supposed to be the thinking machine that has a million times more synapses than human brains have. It should take in the questions by humans entering it on the tape, and report answers back. Maizie was set up to work for the humans or the right-minded leaders of humans. However, Maizie does not work the way that the government believes it does, or the way that the Thinkers want them to believe. Instead, there is literally a fat man sitting in the middle of the room, he looks through the tapes that are sent in to his room and then writes down the answers to each of those questions. To the government officials, this is magical and believable, and they take advises from the machine. However, apparently the physicists knew the actual way that Maizie works, they do not want to be fooled and teased the Thinkers by sending them a question. On the question, it asks if Maizie stands for Maelzel. Maelzel is a chess playing machine that turned out to have a man inside it, exactly the same with Maizie. While the government officials did not seem to understand the mockery in it, the Thinkers did."
] |
51152
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blond and blue-eyed hero goes into battle wearing diapers, and carrying only a hammer to fight with! You're the most unforgettable character I have ever known!" He'd passed inspection, then—so far. He expelled his withheld breath, and said, "I think you'll find me a little odd, in some ways." "Oh, not at all," Ida replied quickly. "Different, yes, but I wouldn't say odd." When they started down the street, she was nervous despite Roddie's assertion that he knew where the soldiers were posted. He wondered if she felt some of the doubt he'd tried to conceal, shared his visions of
bag suddenly and leaned against a fence post, rolling his head on his forearms and choking in spasms of air. He was shaking all over, and his belly writhed. He wanted to turn and run. He wanted to crawl out in the grass and hide. What were they going to say? And Marie, Marie most of all. How was he going to tell her about the money? Six hitches in space, and every time the promise had been the same: One more tour, baby, and we'll have enough dough, and then I'll quit for good. One more time, and we'll
trees from the field. He got over the hedge somehow, and started through the trees toward the house. He stumbled over some old boards, and they clattered. " Shhh! " he hissed, and moved on. The dogs were barking angrily, and he heard a screen door slam. He stopped. "Ho there!" a male voice called experimentally from the house. One of Marie's brothers. Hogey stood frozen in the shadow of a peach tree, waiting. "Anybody out there?" the man called again. Hogey waited, then heard the man muttering, "Sic 'im, boy, sic 'im." The hound's bark became eager. The animal
around here?" It was obvious that the big man had taken him for a hobo or a tramp. Hogey pulled himself together. "Goin' to the Hauptman's place. Marie. You know Marie?" The farmer's eyebrows went up. "Marie Hauptman? Sure I know her. Only she's Marie Parker now. Has been, nigh on six years. Say—" He paused, then gaped. "You ain't her husband by any chance?" "Hogey, that's me. Big Hogey Parker." "Well, I'll be—! Get in the car. I'm going right past John Hauptman's place. Boy, you're in no shape to walk it." He grinned wryly, waggled his head, and
his home, not south? Could a man get so confused as to forget things he'd known all his life? He reached the Shanks' place, and passed it at a trot. Then he was beyond their boundaries and breaking regulations again. He stayed on the road. He went by a small house and saw colored folks in the yard. There'd been no colored folks here. There'd been Eli Bergen and his family and his mother, in a bigger, newer house. The colored folks heard Plum's hooves and looked up and stared. Then a man raised his voice. "Mistah, you breakin' regulations!
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Appointment In Tomorrow by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
|
[
"Following World War III at the end of the 20th century, American society is dependent upon a machine created by the Thinker's Foundation; this machine, named Maizie, has the ability to answer any question posed to it, and it is used often by politicians and public figures for societal decision making. Jorj Helmuth, a Thinker with hypnotic abilities, awakes with a girl, Caddy, asleep beside him. Jorj is struck with a revelation about new developments in his work towards space domination, and he sends a letter to a group of physicists calling for a meeting later that afternoon. Jorj is then alerted that the President has arrived to consult Maizie. He commences the daily procedure of feeding the machine questions through a tape, and meanwhile attention turns to a broadcast of a rocket taking off to Mars. The Secretary of Space, who joined the President, is wary of his exclusion in this project, but disregards it as he credits Maizie for the decision. Jorj discloses that the Thinkers plan to find ways to gain access to and control of Martian minds. As Maizie begins answering questions, one of them sparks curiosity, asking whether Maizie is short for Maelzel. The machine responds with \"no\" as the officials are perplexed by the question, which references a character in a story by Edgar Allen Poe in which a machine was found to be fake and operated by a man. Apparently, the question came from a member of Opperly's group, a team of physicists; Jorj advises that the issue be looked into. Later, scientists Opperly and Farquar discuss the previous events. Opperly says that he covered for Farquar, who submitted the question, but still disagrees with his decision to dig at the Thinkers. Farquar believes that the Thinkers, along with Maizie, are fakes and ought to be exposed. Farquar and Opperly go back and forth, debating whether or not exposing the Thinkers is worth violence or energy, when Farquar receives a message from Jorj regarding the meeting about his space project. Opperly is skeptical of Jorj's motives, but Farquar plans to go anyway. On his way home, Jorj ponders the future of the Thinkers with excitement, eagerly awaiting a future where they would be on the same level of the Scientists, and where they would build the true Maizie.",
"In an alternate history of America, wherein World War III has occurred, Jorj Helmuth wakes up and turns off the device which enables him to learn in his sleep. Jorj is a forty year old Thinker, a class of individuals who work with the US government on various projects, such as monthly rockets to Mars and a super-intelligent computer Maizie. As Jorj prepares for his day, he receives a call from the President, who is waiting to see Maizie. \nMaizie, a large computer with large panels, controls, indicators, and terminals occupies a two-story room in the Thinkers’ Foundation, in which the President and members of his cabinet are waiting. It is described as many times more intelligent than humans, and was built by the Thinkers despite the skepticism of cyberneticists and scientists. The president, his secretary, two generals, the Secretary of State, and the Secretary of Space regard Maizie with reverence, speaking in hushed tones for fear that it could overhear them despite the knowledge that it only receives input from the ticker tape fed to it. Jorj enters onto the tape questions from the officials, before noticing an errant question, which he learns is from Morton Opperly’s group of physicists. He feeds the tape to Maizie, which begins to emit a noise indicative of the start of its processes.\nAs they await Maizie’s answers, Jorj directs their attention to a television screen broadcasting the launch of a rocket to Mars. We learn that Martians have imparted profound wisdom through the Thinkers to the world, which still suffers from the effects of the third world war. In response to the President’s wish that Martians be brought to Earth to directly share their mental science, Jorj reminds him that only the Thinkers’ minds can safely interact with the Martians’. \nThe narrator reveals that inside Maizie is, rather than complicated machinery etching the edges of molecules to store information, a man who manually answers the input questions. He pauses when he reaches the question from Opperly’s group, which asks if Maizie stands for Maelzel. He types out a response in the negative and continues. It is also revealed that the rocket launched for Mars only travels acutely beyond the ionosphere, rather than to its advertised destination. The astronaut, who is accompanied by his cat, reads about the knowledge which he would pass off as Martian wisdom upon his descent to Earth. \nMaizie has returned the output tape, and the Secretary of Space wonders aloud who Maelzel is. One of the generals recalls that it is from a story about a chess automaton inside which was actually a man. They dismiss Opperly’s group as confused. \nIn Opperly’s residence however, Opperly and Willard Farquar discuss the Thinkers’ deception. Though Farquar aims to reveal the sham, Opperly is unsure he will succeed, citing that people want to be told what they wish were true. Farquhar receives an invitation from Jorj, which they surmise is because of a demand for rockets in the near future.\n",
"The story is set after World War III. Jorj is a Thinker that occasionally uses hypnotic control on a girl named Caddy to make her agreeable with him. The Thinkers have made big claims that they have achieved great technological feats. They claim that they have created a cubic brain-machine that is intelligent and knows everything. They say the machine event helped finished building itself. They also have claimed that they have nuclear powered Mars rockets. This too is not true. They send a person to space pretending that the person is headed towards Mars, when in reality that person will be circling the Earth for two months. Not everyone knows of the lies, the President and secretary of state do not. \n\nDuring a review of the tapes for Maizie, the group comes across an unusual question asking about Maizie. Jorj finds out that the question was written by Opperly’s group. Opperly and Farquar are two scientists that know of the Thinkers deception. Farquar is the one who wrote the question, to Opperly’s dismay. Caddy was previously with Farquar, before she went with Jorj. \n\nOpperly and Farquar disagree over how they should respond to the Thinker’s deceptions. Farquar wants to act with violence to continue to try to expose them. Opperly reasons that they tried to expose the Thinkers before and nothing happened, so they should cut their losses. Farquar suggests that the Thinkers are vulnerable because their technology does not exist and it would be easy to attack them. Opperly is concerned that the Thinkers may be able to buy Farquar off if they offer Caddy back to him. \n\nAt the end of the story, Jorj has plans to make sure the Thinkers no longer have to use deception. He excitedly thinks of how the Thinkers can build the true Mars rocket and even perhaps the true Maizie and goes to sleep with these thoughts in his mind. \n",
"After waking up, Jorj Helmuth, a Thinker, sends a message to Farquar and the other professionals so that he can get help in building a rocket. He states that he has funds from the government and wishes to work together. Importantly, the girl, who is sleeping next to Jorj, is controls hypnotically by Jorj, and she is somehow connected to Farquar. \n\nThe president then shows up waiting to see Maizie. Standing before the two stories high electrical brain, he feels like he is seeing the actual God. Not only does he feels so, the generals wonders if this is the Second Coming, the Secretary of State feels the power and respect in wisdom that this machine has, the Secretary of Space is relieved that the Thinks are the ones who built it rather than the professional physicists who does not get things done but simply tell you how things should be done. While surprised at the question that the Opperly’s group asked, Jorj simply entered all the questions for Maizie to solve on the tape. Then he suggests that the government officials should watch the takeoff of the rocket that is going to Mars. While the Secretary of Space is somewhat angry at Jorj for not even informing him about the spaceship, he tells himself that the Thinkers had rescued him from breakdowns and will be bringing mental discoveries from Mars. \n\nAs Maizie continues to work, the readers learn that there is actually a person that work on the questions as they enter into Maizie. He reads the questions and write down their answers. Interestingly, he also notices the question from the Opperly’s group. It makes him somewhat angry. After the rocket goes into space, Jorj gives the answers that are produced by Maizie to each government official. Then we learn that the Opperly’s group is asking about Maelzel. Maelzel was a chess playing machine that was proven to have a man hidden inside it. Later we learned that the Opperly’s group knows that Maizie also has a man hidden in it, and they wanted to tease them. Which is why they wrote the question. Apparently they succeeded, since the question got Jorj angry.\n\nWe then see two physicists, namely Opperly and Farquar, arguing over whether the world needs a magician or a physicist right now when the invitation that Jorj previously sent arrives. Opperly is suspicious of the invitation and what they will do to Farquar, mentioning the girl that ran off with a Thinker. Indeed, Jorj is not only thinking of building a Mars rocket, he also want to have other things built such as Maizie, so that the Thinkers will be farther ahead from with the scientists. But Farquar does not think so."
] |
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
|
What is the relationship between Ravenhurst and Daniel Oak?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about His Master's Voice by Randall Garrett.
Relevant chunks:
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
ease—and Fred knew, too. His brother, and his father-substitute. FitzMaugham might well choose to conceal Roy's defection this time, but would surely place less trust in him in the future. And as for Fred.... There was no telling what Fred might do. They had never been particularly close as brothers; they had lived with their parents (now almost totally forgotten) until Roy was nine and Fred seven. Their parents had gone down off Maracaibo in a jet crash; Roy and Fred had been sent to the public crèche. After that it had been separate paths for the brothers. For Roy,
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
... and life. "Hello, Mr. Walton. What brings you down here?" Walton smiled affably. "Just a routine investigation, Doctor. I try to keep in touch with every department we have, you know." "Mr. FitzMaugham was down here to look around a little while ago. We're really getting a going-over today, Mr. Walton!" "Umm. Yes." Walton didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd have to rely on the old man's abiding faith in his protégé to pull him out of any possible stickiness that arose. "Seen my brother around?" he asked. "Fred? He's working in
fact and presented him as neat and fresh. "I have some work to do now." His voice was barely audible. "I won't keep you any longer, then," Fred said. The screen went dead. Walton killed the contact at his end, got up, walked to the window. He nudged the opaquer control and the frosty white haze over the glass cleared away, revealing the fantastic beehive of the city outside. Idiot! he thought. Fool! He had risked everything to save one baby, one child probably doomed to an early death anyway. And FitzMaugham knew—the old man could see through Walton with
Question:
What is the relationship between Ravenhurst and Daniel Oak?
Answer:
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[
"Ravenhurst and Oak do not have a friendly relationship with each other. Occasionally, Ravenhurst occasionally hires Daniel to complete certain jobs for him. Ravenhurst is a high executive at a company that makes robots. He has recently hired Daniel to fix a problem with a robot and has to rehire him to fix a problem that Daniel caused on the previous job. \n\nDaniel is not loyal to Ravenhurst because he has acknowledged that he is a double agent working for the UN government and not just Ravenhurst. In addition, Daniel decides to team up with Colonel Harrington Brock to tackle the problem at hand. The Colonel says that he is doing it in Ravenhurst’s best interests. \n",
"Daniel Oak has previously been hired by Shalimar Ravenhurst, presumably to expedite the completion of the seventh iteration of the McGuire, the MGYR-7, and to resolve the sabotage of the earlier models caused by Ravenhurst’s daughter. Though Daniel regards Ravenhurst as an intelligent man, one at the top of the managerial field, he finds Ravenhurst utterly unlikeable. \n\tIn their interaction on Raven’s Rest, the asteroid occupied by Ravenhurst’s office, Ravenhurst describes his reluctance to hire Daniel to assist in the completion of the MGYR-8 because of his part in making the development of the eighth model necessary. However, Ravenhurst nonetheless acknowledges Daniel’s skill at his job, and hires him. \n",
"Ravenhurst is Daniel Oak's employer. Daniel admires Ravenhurst professionally; he sees him as smart, savvy, and practical. However, he believes that Ravenhurst is unpleasant on an interpersonal level. When meeting Ravenhurst in his office, Daniel knows he is being reprimanded and is in an inferior position professionally. Despite this, Daniel's wit gives in and the two have a conversation with snarky remarks and sarcastic comments. Though there is a power dynamic between Ravenhurst and Daniel, Daniel is determined to appear on the same level as Ravenhurst, and throughout conversations with him tries to be one step ahead of his thought process, which irritates Ravenhurst.",
"Ravenhurst hired Daniel Oak to make sure that the robots will not be sabotaged. However, we learn in the beginning of the story that he accidentally sabotaged the robot, McGuire. Ravenhurst tells Oak that because of what he did, now Ravenhurst’s own position is threatened. Oak was hired because Ravenhurst has spent too much money on the McGuire project where things became shaky at Viking, their company. Oak was supposed to fix it, but instead his chance of losing his position as a manger seems to have increased. Then Ravenhurst tells Oak that the MGYR-7 was built with a different meaning on the term “human being” than before. Whoever what the first person that speaks to the robot after activation, that person becomes the only individual that the robot takes order from. And apparently McGuire’s first order came from Oak. So now he is the only individual that can order McGuire. Ravenhurst also tells Oak that they simply cannot change McGuire’s memory. So later, Ravenhurst asks Oak to go to Ceres to help them with building MGYR-8. And after arriving, the readers see that Brock and Oak decide to work with each other. "
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its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
ease—and Fred knew, too. His brother, and his father-substitute. FitzMaugham might well choose to conceal Roy's defection this time, but would surely place less trust in him in the future. And as for Fred.... There was no telling what Fred might do. They had never been particularly close as brothers; they had lived with their parents (now almost totally forgotten) until Roy was nine and Fred seven. Their parents had gone down off Maracaibo in a jet crash; Roy and Fred had been sent to the public crèche. After that it had been separate paths for the brothers. For Roy,
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
... and life. "Hello, Mr. Walton. What brings you down here?" Walton smiled affably. "Just a routine investigation, Doctor. I try to keep in touch with every department we have, you know." "Mr. FitzMaugham was down here to look around a little while ago. We're really getting a going-over today, Mr. Walton!" "Umm. Yes." Walton didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd have to rely on the old man's abiding faith in his protégé to pull him out of any possible stickiness that arose. "Seen my brother around?" he asked. "Fred? He's working in
fact and presented him as neat and fresh. "I have some work to do now." His voice was barely audible. "I won't keep you any longer, then," Fred said. The screen went dead. Walton killed the contact at his end, got up, walked to the window. He nudged the opaquer control and the frosty white haze over the glass cleared away, revealing the fantastic beehive of the city outside. Idiot! he thought. Fool! He had risked everything to save one baby, one child probably doomed to an early death anyway. And FitzMaugham knew—the old man could see through Walton with
|
What is Daniel Oak’s job?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about His Master's Voice by Randall Garrett.
Relevant chunks:
secret society, we find it desirable that they have a personal interview with the Grand Chairman of POSAT. Accordingly, you are cordially invited to an audience with our Grand Chairman on Tuesday, July 10, at 2:30 P.M. Please let us know if this arrangement is acceptable to you. If not, we will attempt to make another appointment for you. The time specified for the appointment was hardly a convenient one for Don. At 2:30 P.M. on most Tuesdays, he would be at work in the laboratory. And while his employers made no complaint if he took his research problems home
vice-president of the Oak Grove Merchants' Bank came up out of the vault, threw the heavy time locks, put on his hat and coat, and hurried outside onto the sidewalk. Only a few people were there, hurrying home to dinner. "Good night," the guard said, locking the door after him. "Good night," Clarence Mason murmured. He started along the street toward his car. He was tired. He had been working all day down in the vault, examining the lay-out of the safety deposit boxes to see if there was room for another tier. He was glad to be finished. At
he wrote exactly that, in small, neat script. It was unfortunate for his curiosity that Don could not see the contents of the three envelopes that were mailed from the offices of POSAT the following week. For this time they differed. Bill Evans was once again disappointed. The pamphlet that was enclosed gave what apparently meant to be final answers to life's problems. They were couched in vaguely metaphysical terms and offered absolutely no help to him. His disappointment was tempered, however, by the knowledge that he had unexpectedly found a job. Or, rather, it had fallen into his lap.
the Commissioner snapped off the recorder and got to his feet. He stood for a moment, deep in thought. Finally he got out his cigarettes and lit up slowly, a frown on his beefy face. "You don't believe me," Loyce said. The Commissioner offered him a cigarette. Loyce pushed it impatiently away. "Suit yourself." The Commissioner moved over to the window and stood for a time looking out at the town of Oak Grove. "I believe you," he said abruptly. Loyce sagged. "Thank God." "So you got away." The Commissioner shook his head. "You were down in your cellar instead
knees. Crawling, creeping through the night. His shoes were mud-caked. He was scratched and limping, utterly exhausted. But ahead of him lay Oak Grove. He took a deep breath and started down the hill. Twice he stumbled and fell, picking himself up and trudging on. His ears rang. Everything receded and wavered. But he was there. He had got out, away from Pikeville. A farmer in a field gaped at him. From a house a young woman watched in wonder. Loyce reached the road and turned onto it. Ahead of him was a gasoline station and a drive-in. A couple
Question:
What is Daniel Oak’s job?
Answer:
|
[
"Daniel Oak states that he has an office in New York and describes himself as a Confidential Expediter. He has worked with Ravenhurst before and the story begins with an understanding that Daniel recently completed a job for Ravenhurst. He later mentions that he is a double agent. Daniel works for the Political Survey Division branch of the System Census Bureau for the UN government. Unbeknownst to most of the System’s citizens, the Political Survey Division is the Secret Service arm of the UN government. \n\nA flitterboat is a more economical option than a full spaceship. It is described as having a single gravitoinertial engine. It is meant to have the most basic necessities that are needed for a person to survive their journey, which includes oxygen, water, and the requirement of food necessary. The flitterboat is not necessarily more affordable, but it does provide the purpose of transporting from one Belt to another Belt. Daniel Oak details how a vacuum suit is needed to be worn in a flitterboat.\n",
"Daniel is, officially, a confidential expediter. In this role, he helps to ensure the rapid completion of projects to which his employers have assigned him. Typically, his job involves finding other people who are able to fulfil the request initially assigned to him, and collecting his fee. \nIn the case of the McGuire project, which involves the construction of a sophisticated spaceship operating system capable of understanding and speaking English, Daniel is also operating in his capacity as an agent of the Political survey Division. The PSD is a branch of the System Census Bureau of the UN government, and is often thought to be responsible for surveying the state of political systems throughout the System. However, in reality the PSD more closely resembles a secret service of the UN. \n",
"Daniel Oak's official job title is a Confidential Expediter. His job consists of helping others complete tasks, usually hiring a third party and collecting a fee. Daniel Oak is also an agent of the Political Survey Division, a Secret Service organization. In the story, Daniel Oak has been hired by Ravenhurst directly in order to ensure that his company, Viking Spacecraft, succeeds in business with the development of the new McGuire model. He is hired specifically to prevent sabotage to McGuire, as sabotage would lead to the downfall of the Viking business.",
"Daniel Oak is a confidential expediter who helps people to get their things done. So normally he would find someone who is an expert in the area that his customers are looking for, then pair them and then collect the fees. Interestingly, now he is a double agent. He was working for Ravenhurst where he had to prevent sabotage. However, during that job, he was not successful since he did sabotage their robot, McGuire. Because he is the first one that the robot spoke to after it is activated, thus McGuire only listens to the order given by him. Moreover, since costly thus not worthwhile , and McGuire’s build in program does not allow tampering. \n\nCurrently, Ravenhurst is telling Oak to go to Ceres to help with the roboticists build MGYR-8. Because Raverhurst wants it to be not only fast and safe, but also wants it to become something that can be used commercially. And later, when he arrives in Ceres, Brock asks him for help. While he didn’t agree to do so, he did suggest they work together, since they are all working for Ravenhurst, there should not be a conflict of interest. "
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secret society, we find it desirable that they have a personal interview with the Grand Chairman of POSAT. Accordingly, you are cordially invited to an audience with our Grand Chairman on Tuesday, July 10, at 2:30 P.M. Please let us know if this arrangement is acceptable to you. If not, we will attempt to make another appointment for you. The time specified for the appointment was hardly a convenient one for Don. At 2:30 P.M. on most Tuesdays, he would be at work in the laboratory. And while his employers made no complaint if he took his research problems home
vice-president of the Oak Grove Merchants' Bank came up out of the vault, threw the heavy time locks, put on his hat and coat, and hurried outside onto the sidewalk. Only a few people were there, hurrying home to dinner. "Good night," the guard said, locking the door after him. "Good night," Clarence Mason murmured. He started along the street toward his car. He was tired. He had been working all day down in the vault, examining the lay-out of the safety deposit boxes to see if there was room for another tier. He was glad to be finished. At
he wrote exactly that, in small, neat script. It was unfortunate for his curiosity that Don could not see the contents of the three envelopes that were mailed from the offices of POSAT the following week. For this time they differed. Bill Evans was once again disappointed. The pamphlet that was enclosed gave what apparently meant to be final answers to life's problems. They were couched in vaguely metaphysical terms and offered absolutely no help to him. His disappointment was tempered, however, by the knowledge that he had unexpectedly found a job. Or, rather, it had fallen into his lap.
the Commissioner snapped off the recorder and got to his feet. He stood for a moment, deep in thought. Finally he got out his cigarettes and lit up slowly, a frown on his beefy face. "You don't believe me," Loyce said. The Commissioner offered him a cigarette. Loyce pushed it impatiently away. "Suit yourself." The Commissioner moved over to the window and stood for a time looking out at the town of Oak Grove. "I believe you," he said abruptly. Loyce sagged. "Thank God." "So you got away." The Commissioner shook his head. "You were down in your cellar instead
knees. Crawling, creeping through the night. His shoes were mud-caked. He was scratched and limping, utterly exhausted. But ahead of him lay Oak Grove. He took a deep breath and started down the hill. Twice he stumbled and fell, picking himself up and trudging on. His ears rang. Everything receded and wavered. But he was there. He had got out, away from Pikeville. A farmer in a field gaped at him. From a house a young woman watched in wonder. Loyce reached the road and turned onto it. Ahead of him was a gasoline station and a drive-in. A couple
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about His Master's Voice by Randall Garrett.
Relevant chunks:
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"The story begins with Daniel Oak going into Ravenhurst’s office to talk with him about another job. Ravenhurst tells Daniel that there is an issue with the robot McGuire because the robot will only listen to Daniel’s commands. This happened because of the way the robot was programmed and Daniel happened to trigger the programming that attaches the robot to whoever the first person was to speak to it. \n\nRavenhurst does not like Daniel’s methods but hires him anyways to fix the situation. Daniel believes that he is hired because Ravenhurst is afraid of losing his manager position. Ravenhurst hires and sends Daniel to the planet Ceres to work with the roboticists at Viking. Daniel puts on his vacuum suit and boards a flitterboat to Ceres. The reader learns that Daniel is a double agent as he actually works for the UN government’s Secret Service agency, also known as the Political Survey Division.\n\nDaniel is sent to Ceres to help with the robot McGuire. When he arrives at Ceres he is met by Colonel Harrington Brock. He goes to have a drink with Colonel Brock and they create a separate plan from Ravenhurst and team up to implement their own solution to the McGuire problem. \n",
"Daniel Oak enters the office of Shalimar Ravenhurst, the manager of the Viking Spacecraft company whom he describes as an intelligent but unlikeable man, on the planetoid Raven’s Rest. Ravenhurst offers Daniel a glass of wine, and reminds him that he has caused him trouble in the past. He reminds Daniel that the MGYR-7, an advanced robot spaceship operating system capable of understanding and speaking English nicknamed the McGuire, considers only Daniel as its master, rendering it uncooperative. Because of the McGuire self-preservation directive, it doesn’t allow this obedience to be erased. The most efficient path forward, Ravenhurt concludes, is to build the eighth iteration of MGYR, and he hires Daniel to expedite the process. \nDaniel leaves Raven’s Rest and travels in his flitterboat to the planetoid Ceres, a large asteroid with weak a gravitational force conducive to manufacturing mainly owned by Viking, and from which it operates. Daniel is an expediter, a job which involves speeding up projects for companies who hire him. We also learn that Daniel is a member of the Political Survey Division of the UN Government, which is interested in the McGuire project. However, it is not because of its sophistication and complexity, which is similar to that of a traffic pattern control robot, that Daniel has been tasked with gathering information about the McGuire, but rather its language-processing abilities.\nDaniel describes Asimov’s three laws of the robotic brain, which in summary direct the machine to obey human beings. However, because of the difficulty in defining a human being, the first six iterations of the McGuire have failed when conflicting directions are given. Only in the seventh iteration, when the McGuire is directed to regard only the person to first give it instructions as its commander, does the machine achieve any success. \nLanding on Ceres, Daniel is greeted by Colonel Harrington Brock, the head of Ravenhurst’s Security Guard who is dressed in a black-and-gold skin tight suit. Brock invites Daniel for a drink, which he accepts. Brock tells Daniel, who feigns ignorance about the subject, about two competing companies, Thurston and Baedecker Metals & Mining, who aim to sabotage Viking in order to assume control of Ceres. Despite having been asked by Ravenhurst, who disapproves of Daniel’s methods, not to involve Daniel on the project, Brock asks for Daniel’s help on this matter of corporate espionage. Though he refuses being employed by Brock, citing conflicts of interest, he agrees to enter into a cooperative relationship and to help out. \n",
"Daniel Oak, a \"Confidential Expediter\" and agent of the Political Survey Division, is called into the office of Shalimar Ravenhurst, owner of Viking Spacecraft. Work is being done to create a new version of a complex robot, called McGuire, who has been sabotaged in its past six attempts. Daniel has been hired to get down to the issue and prevent further sabotage to the seventh model. Upon entering Ravenhurst's office, Daniel is reprimanded as he is told he caused the sabotage of McGuire. McGuire operates to avoid issues by only following the orders of one individual, that person being the first to speak to him; this person ended up being Daniel. Because of this, Ravenhurst tells Daniel that he must go to Ceres, where McGuire is being built, and aid Viking in building a new model. Daniel heads to Ceres in his flitterboat, where he meets Colonel Brock. Brock tells Daniel that a competing business, Baedecker Metals & Mining Corporation, is trying to drive Viking out of business and overtake Ceres and its resources by causing issues and potential sabotages. However, Brock and Daniel are both aware that it was Ravenhurst's daughter, Jack, that has been causing sabotage, which is kept under wraps. Brock then attempts to hire Daniel to help him with the situation, to which Daniel denies, saying that he cannot conflict with Ravenhurst's contract. Daniel then proposes that they instead work alongside each other, and help each other through services and tasks rather than money, and Brock agrees.",
"The story starts with Daniel Oak, a double agent, in Shalimar Raverhurst’s office, and it was the third time that he is on this mountain-sized planetoid. Raverhurst first poured Oak a glass of Madeira. Then he told Oak that he has caused quite a lot of trouble for him. We learn that there is a robot, called McGuire, that has been sabotaged by Oak while he is hired to prevent those kind of things. Because it is kind of difficult to define human being for the robots, thus McGuire is implemented to follow the order of the first person that it speaks to after activation; and apparently, that person is Oak. Then we learn that Oak is a double agent, and he pretends to not know much about this issue at all. So Raverhurst goes on telling Oak why they cannot undo this sabotage: it’s costly thus not worthwhile, and McGuire does not allow others to change his processes. \n\nThen Raverhurst tells Oak that he will be going to Ceres to help build MGYR-8. So then Oak goes into his flitterboat and is going to Ceres. Then we learn from Oak that McGuire is different from other robots such as a traffic robot. Firstly McGuire is mobile in the sense that he is the spacecraft. His spaceship travels very quickly and there is no set paths for the robot to choose from, there is the whole universe. Moreover, he has to deal with unforeseen emergencies as well as with humans. Thus McGuire needs to be able to understand English and can communicate with humans. The most difficult part is defining “human being,” thus McGuire is set to takes order from one individual. \n\nAfter Oak arrives in Ceres, Colonel Harrington Brock, who is the security guard of Ravenhurst, was waiting for him. Instead of going back for a bath and sleep, Brock asks him to have a drink together. At O’Banion’s Bar Brock asks for Oak’s help, while Oak refuses to help, he suggests that they work together in co-operation."
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and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
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Describe a flitterboat and when it is used.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about His Master's Voice by Randall Garrett.
Relevant chunks:
I, the Unspeakable By WALT SHELDON Illustrated by LOUIS MARCHETTI [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "What's in a name?" might be very dangerous to ask in certain societies, in which sticks and stones are also a big problem! I fought to be awake. I was dreaming, but I think I must have blushed. I must have blushed in my sleep. " Do it! " she said. " Please do it! For me! " It was the voice
of a scarlet, many-tentacled being. "Did you use the word history ?" He pronounced it in terms of loathing. "I have been grossly insulted and I shall be forced to report you to the police, sir." "Please don't!" Carpenter begged. "This youth has just come from one of the Brotherhoods and is not yet accustomed to the ways of our universe. I know that, because of the great sophistication for which your race is noted, you will overlook this little gaucherie on his part." "Well," the red one conceded, "let it not be said that Meropians are not tolerant. But,
herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired. He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it." "It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's
FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of— ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.... Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form: a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the
deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word "fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while. Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine,
Question:
Describe a flitterboat and when it is used.
Answer:
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[
"A flitterboat is a more economical option than a full spaceship. It is described as having a single gravitoinertial engine. It is meant to have the most basic necessities that are needed for a person to survive their journey, which includes oxygen, water, and the requirement of food necessary. The flitterboat is not necessarily more affordable, but it does provide the purpose of transporting from one Belt to another Belt. Daniel Oak details how a vacuum suit is needed to be worn in a flitterboat. Daniel describes the flitterboat as a tool that does its job, but is not comfortable. ",
"A flitterboat is a small, single-person space vehicle capable of navigating from beacon to beacon in the Belt, an area of space in which it is impractical to use full-sized spaceships. It is propelled by a single engine, and contains only a few things necessary for life - water, air, and small amounts of food. \n\tIn order to ride in a flitterboat, the passenger must wear an uncomfortable vac suit and sit straddling a drive tube. The main body of the vessel is composed of a material called transite, which is nearly transparent. The gravitational force inside a flitterboat is one gee. \n",
"A flitterboat is a smaller spaceship used for individual transportation on the Belt; to use a full sized spaceship would be inconvenient and impractical, so the flitterboat is used for local travel for one. It has a singular engine and can carry air, and a bit of food and water. It contains an anchor that holds the boat to the ground. Because it is only meant for short travels, one can only last a short amount of time in one, so flitterboats are used to get to and from different beacon points in the neighborhood.",
"The flitterboat has a single gravitoinertial engine and it contains a few necessities of life, air, water and little food. But this flitterboat still costs quite a lot. The flitterboat is used for short distance travelling since it is very hard to stay in a vacuum suit for too long. Thus it is common to hop from beacon to beacon, and this decreases the average speed since most of the time one would spend accelerating and decelerating. The flitterboat has a bucket seat for the driver and it produces a one-gee pull. It sits on the drive tube in a way similar to a witch on a broomstick. Importantly, a flitterboat cannot be stopped whenever it wants to, instead it has to get to a beacon station. Oak uses it when he was told by Raverhurst to travel to Ceres, he wears a vacuum suit when he was going to ride it. First he allowed the boat to get to the top of the planetoid by releasing the magnetic anchor and once the station is reached, the flitterboat has to be parked at the specific space assigned by the Landing Control."
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I, the Unspeakable By WALT SHELDON Illustrated by LOUIS MARCHETTI [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction April 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "What's in a name?" might be very dangerous to ask in certain societies, in which sticks and stones are also a big problem! I fought to be awake. I was dreaming, but I think I must have blushed. I must have blushed in my sleep. " Do it! " she said. " Please do it! For me! " It was the voice
of a scarlet, many-tentacled being. "Did you use the word history ?" He pronounced it in terms of loathing. "I have been grossly insulted and I shall be forced to report you to the police, sir." "Please don't!" Carpenter begged. "This youth has just come from one of the Brotherhoods and is not yet accustomed to the ways of our universe. I know that, because of the great sophistication for which your race is noted, you will overlook this little gaucherie on his part." "Well," the red one conceded, "let it not be said that Meropians are not tolerant. But,
herself on her elbows, then turning into a sitting position, the snow clinging to her skin in a glistening veneer; arising finally to her feet, resplendently attired. He went over to the sideboard, picked up the bottle of bourbon. She followed. He set the two snifter glasses side by side and tilted the bottle. "Say when." "When!" "I admire your dress—never saw anything quite like it." "Thank you. The material is something new. Feel it." "It's—it's almost like foam rubber. Cigarette?" "Thanks.... Is something wrong, Mr. Quidley?" "No, of course not. Why?" "Your hands are trembling." "Oh. I'm—I'm afraid it's
FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Give me a dozen. I want to make sure that my children and my children's children have a plentiful supply. BOOK CLERK: Sorry. Only one to a customer. Next? SECOND EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are ... there ... any ... more ... copies ... of— ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.... Message no. 4, except for a slight variation in camouflage, ran true to form: a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Cai: Habe te snoll dopers ensing? Wotnid ne Fieu Dayol ist ifederereret, hid jestig snoll doper. Gind ed, olro—Jilka. a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj a;sldkfj Quidley sighed. What, he asked himself, standing in the
deter him when he set out to conquer, but because the term itself brought to mind the word "fiance," and the word "fiance" brought to mind still another word, one which repelled him violently. I.e., "marriage". Just the same, he decided to keep Taine's History under observation for a while. Her boy friend turned out to be her girl friend, and her girl friend turned out to be a tall and lissome, lovely with a Helenesque air of her own. From the vantage point of a strategically located reading table, where he was keeping company with his favorite little magazine,
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What equipment does Star possess and use throughout the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about DEATH STAR by TOM PACE.
Relevant chunks:
of the human cell nucleus that it caused chemical derangement and disintegration in any non-human cell. Nothing could live in contact with it but human cells; any alien intruder to the body would die. Nucleocat Cureall was its trade name. But the cureall alone was not enough for complete safety. Plagues had been known to slay too rapidly and universally to be checked by human treatment. Doctors are not reliable; they die. Therefore spaceways and interplanetary health law demanded that ship equipment for guarding against disease be totally mechanical in operation, rapid and efficient. Somewhere near them, in a series
Orphans of the Void By MICHAEL SHAARA Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Finding a cause worth dying for is no great trick—the Universe is full of them. Finding one worth living for is the genuine problem! In the region of the Coal Sack Nebula, on the dead fourth planet of a star called Tyban, Captain Steffens of the Mapping Command stood counting buildings. Eleven. No, twelve. He wondered if there was any significance in
through. Come back with man, find horrible thing happen." "But why didn't you explain?" He grinned again. "Who believe? Sick man die soon after." Gladney sat up. He had heard the conversation between the two. "You're right, Rat. No one would have believed you then, and no one will now. You've been safe enough on Mars, but the police will nab you as soon as you get out of the ship." "They can't!" cried Patti Gray. "They can't hurt him after what he's done now." The Centaurian grinned in a cynical way. "Police not get me, Gladney. Gladney's memory damn
them. After awhile Rat came out of it. "No," he waved. "No appendix. Never nowhere appendix." "Then Mother Nature has finally woke up!" she exclaimed. "But why do Centaurians rate it exclusively?" Rat ignored this and asked one of her. "What you and her doing up there?" He pointed back and up, to where Mars obliterated the stars. "You might call it a pleasure jaunt. She's only seventeen. We came over in a cruiser belonging to her father; it was rather large and easy to handle. But the cruise ended when she lost control of the ship because of an
she returned the look, wavering. She bit her lip and determination flowed back. She met the stare of his boring, off-colored eyes. Rat grinned suddenly. Nurse Gray almost smiled back, stopped before the others could see it. "Won't go!" The Centaurian resumed his fight. "You not go, lose job, black-listed. Never get another. Look at me. I know." He retreated a precious step to escape a rolled up fist. "Little ship carry four nice. Rip out lockers and bunks. Swing hammocks. Put fuel in water tanks. Live on concentrates. Earth hospital fix bellyache afterwards, allright. I pilot ship. Yes?" "No!"
Question:
What equipment does Star possess and use throughout the story?
Answer:
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[
"When Star’s ship is hit by the electric beam, he has an electron knife with him. And when he heard footsteps coming his way, he holds onto it firmly. When the man gets near the water and sees the ship sink, Star quickly kills him with the electron knife by stabbing right to his heart. He takes the man’s jet-gun with him as well. He is also going to use the jet-gun on the girl, but his great reflexes are able to stop him from doing so, however, she paralyzes him first. After he is knocked out and brought to the cell, he looks for his weapons, but they are all taken by Garrett’s men except one. At the place that execution is supposed to take place, Star kicks the metal fork towards the visual transmitter, which will send signals for help. When Garrett takes them to the machinery room, the girl takes the jet weapon from Garrett, Star uses a tiny jet to shoot Garret right before Garret shot him. While Star’s scalp gets injured, he is able to shoot right at Garret’s vitals with his quickness and alertness, thus making him die almost immediately.",
"Star possesses a jet-gun and an electron blade which he stores on his belt. Additionally, he maintains an additional jet weapon discreetly stored on his person. His primary weapon, the jet-gun, is a deadly weapon, but one which must be reloaded by pressing a loading stuff to slide ammunition into place. His electron blade, stored in a water-proof sheath, is a blade whose full potential is realizable when it is activated. Upon the pressing of its electron stud, the electron blade produces blue fire. The jet weapon, which Star uses to kill Devil Garrett, is slightly smaller than a fountain pen and has thick sides. Star refers to this weapon as his “ace”. \n",
"Some of the equipment that Star uses in the story is supplied by John Hinton, including the ship he flies at the beginning of the story, which is shot down. Aside from the ship, Star possesses several weapons throughout the story, including an electron knife and a gun. Once Star is captured by Garrett, he is stripped of most of his weapons, except for his hidden \"ace card\", which is revealed to be a jet gun concealed in a smaller form. Star also possesses knowledge of transmitters and their functions; because of this, he is able to use Garrett's transmitter to alert the authorities of his location by breaking a unit of the machine that sends a distress signal. ",
"In the beginning, Star uses an electron knife that he keeps in a water-proof covering. The knife produces a blue fire when it is used to stab someone. When Star Blade is about to be executed by the transmitter, he pulls out a metal fork. The metal fork damages the transmitter by striking a small area where there are wires and braces. The metal fork prevents Star from being executed by the transmitter. The last weapon that Star has on him after he has used the previous two is a jet weapon the size of a fountain pen. He uses the jet weapon to kill Garrett. "
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of the human cell nucleus that it caused chemical derangement and disintegration in any non-human cell. Nothing could live in contact with it but human cells; any alien intruder to the body would die. Nucleocat Cureall was its trade name. But the cureall alone was not enough for complete safety. Plagues had been known to slay too rapidly and universally to be checked by human treatment. Doctors are not reliable; they die. Therefore spaceways and interplanetary health law demanded that ship equipment for guarding against disease be totally mechanical in operation, rapid and efficient. Somewhere near them, in a series
Orphans of the Void By MICHAEL SHAARA Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Finding a cause worth dying for is no great trick—the Universe is full of them. Finding one worth living for is the genuine problem! In the region of the Coal Sack Nebula, on the dead fourth planet of a star called Tyban, Captain Steffens of the Mapping Command stood counting buildings. Eleven. No, twelve. He wondered if there was any significance in
through. Come back with man, find horrible thing happen." "But why didn't you explain?" He grinned again. "Who believe? Sick man die soon after." Gladney sat up. He had heard the conversation between the two. "You're right, Rat. No one would have believed you then, and no one will now. You've been safe enough on Mars, but the police will nab you as soon as you get out of the ship." "They can't!" cried Patti Gray. "They can't hurt him after what he's done now." The Centaurian grinned in a cynical way. "Police not get me, Gladney. Gladney's memory damn
them. After awhile Rat came out of it. "No," he waved. "No appendix. Never nowhere appendix." "Then Mother Nature has finally woke up!" she exclaimed. "But why do Centaurians rate it exclusively?" Rat ignored this and asked one of her. "What you and her doing up there?" He pointed back and up, to where Mars obliterated the stars. "You might call it a pleasure jaunt. She's only seventeen. We came over in a cruiser belonging to her father; it was rather large and easy to handle. But the cruise ended when she lost control of the ship because of an
she returned the look, wavering. She bit her lip and determination flowed back. She met the stare of his boring, off-colored eyes. Rat grinned suddenly. Nurse Gray almost smiled back, stopped before the others could see it. "Won't go!" The Centaurian resumed his fight. "You not go, lose job, black-listed. Never get another. Look at me. I know." He retreated a precious step to escape a rolled up fist. "Little ship carry four nice. Rip out lockers and bunks. Swing hammocks. Put fuel in water tanks. Live on concentrates. Earth hospital fix bellyache afterwards, allright. I pilot ship. Yes?" "No!"
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Describe the setting of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about DEATH STAR by TOM PACE.
Relevant chunks:
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
proud of the apartment. It had all the modern conveniences, like the needle shower with the perfume dispenser, the built-in soft-drink bar in the library, the all-communications set, and the electrical massager. It was a nice, comfortable setup, an illusion of security in an ever-changing world. She lit a cigarette and chuckled. Mrs. Burger, the fat old landlady, thought she kept up the apartment by working as a buyer for one of the downtown stores. Well, maybe some day she would. But not today. And not tonight. The phone rang and she answered in a casual tone. She talked for
edge, and birds as delicate as colored glass wavered down the wind. He opened the shelter door and went out. The shelter looked the same, but useless now. How did the shelter of that bleak world get into this one, where the air was warm and fragrant, where there was no cold, from that world into this one of his dreams? The girl—Helene—was standing there leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. He walked toward her, and stopped. In the dream it had been easy, but now he was embarrassed, in spite of the intimacy that had grown between them.
the radio in the corner, the TV set against the wall, or the personalized telovis his wife was wearing. You pressed one of the buttons on the radio; music came out. You pressed a button and clicked a dial on the TV; music and pictures came out. You pressed a button and made an adjustment on the telovis; three-dimensional, emotion-colored pictures leaped into the room. You pressed a tiny switch on the telporter suit; you were whisked away to a receiving set you had previously set up in secret. He knew that the music and the images of the performers
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
Question:
Describe the setting of the story?
Answer:
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[
"The story takes place on Alpha Centauri III, a planet that has many stagnant lakes that are only a few hundred feet across, but a few thousand feet deep. After Star’s ship fells into one of the lakes, he is knocked out and is captured by the girl and Garrett’s people to their craft. He is sitting on a lab chair where he realizes that he is being called “Garrett” instead of Star. He is still super surprised, but then is knocked out again. He wakes up in some kind of cell and is told he will be executed. He is brought to a room to be executed streaming to the Section Void Headquarters with a stellar vision screen. After some distraction, Garrett misses the shot. But Star is knocked out again to be brought back to the cell again. After acknowledging that the girl knows his true identity, Garrett notices them and brought them to see his grand operation that will allow him to rule over the world. However, he dies before he was able to finish introducing the rest of the machineries. ",
"The story begins on the surface of Alpha Centauri III, also known as the most barren planet in space. The surface of the planet is flat, with only lakes disrupting the flatness. The lakes, though only several hundred feet across, are several thousand feet deep. \nAs Starrett Blade, who is also known as Death Star, is taken to the lair of Devil Garrett, a space pirate, the setting changes to an underground space. Star wakes up in a cell, and is then taken to another room with a transmitter to be executed. However, the transmission goes awry, and Star is subdued and returned to his cell. \nUpon waking up again, Star is taken, alongside Anne Hinton, to a room a thousand feet long and five hundred feet wide, filled with machinery, ladders, and catwalks. The machinery includes vats connected to cables, in which the electrolysis of water is performed, and pipes leading from the vats to large engines in which hydrogen and oxygen gas are allowed to combust and turn turbines. \n",
"The story takes place on Alpha Centauri III, a barren planet with no life. Star finds himself in Garrett's lair, where he is held in a cell for much of the story. Star's execution takes place after Garrett and Anne have eaten in the dining room, where a large transmitter is located that will broadcast the execution to those across the galaxy. Garrett's place also holds turbines and chambers that would generate energy towards his plan of dominating Alpha III.",
"The story begins with Star Blade crouched by some rocks on a tiny lake that is about a couple of hundred feet across but thousands of feet deep. He is on the surface of Alpha Centauri III, the most barren planet in space as it has a mostly flat, rocky surface. There is no running water on the planet, only lakes exist. Tides do not exist on the planet because it does not have a moon which is required for tidal power. \n\nStar is taken to a prison cell by Garrett’s orders. Before his planned execution, Star stands in front of a transmitter that is meant to kill him. He is not killed by the transmitter and returns to his cell. \n\nGarrett shows Star a room that is about a thousand feet long and about 500 feet wide. The room is filled with very large machines and different ladders leading to various sections of the machines. \n"
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mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
proud of the apartment. It had all the modern conveniences, like the needle shower with the perfume dispenser, the built-in soft-drink bar in the library, the all-communications set, and the electrical massager. It was a nice, comfortable setup, an illusion of security in an ever-changing world. She lit a cigarette and chuckled. Mrs. Burger, the fat old landlady, thought she kept up the apartment by working as a buyer for one of the downtown stores. Well, maybe some day she would. But not today. And not tonight. The phone rang and she answered in a casual tone. She talked for
edge, and birds as delicate as colored glass wavered down the wind. He opened the shelter door and went out. The shelter looked the same, but useless now. How did the shelter of that bleak world get into this one, where the air was warm and fragrant, where there was no cold, from that world into this one of his dreams? The girl—Helene—was standing there leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. He walked toward her, and stopped. In the dream it had been easy, but now he was embarrassed, in spite of the intimacy that had grown between them.
the radio in the corner, the TV set against the wall, or the personalized telovis his wife was wearing. You pressed one of the buttons on the radio; music came out. You pressed a button and clicked a dial on the TV; music and pictures came out. You pressed a button and made an adjustment on the telovis; three-dimensional, emotion-colored pictures leaped into the room. You pressed a tiny switch on the telporter suit; you were whisked away to a receiving set you had previously set up in secret. He knew that the music and the images of the performers
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
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What did Garrett do to make the girl believe that he is Star and Star is Garrett?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about DEATH STAR by TOM PACE.
Relevant chunks:
Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got "Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing. By whom—her boy friend? Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend
library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications! You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though. Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb. He remembered Kay's
at Crystal Andrews. There was no fear in her eyes. Just a hotness and an inexplicable anger. Beside her was the other girl, the maid, 'Tina; she was frankly afraid. Her teeth were clenched in her nether lip, and her eyes were wide and anxious, but she did not cry out. Only a miracle could save them now. But Breadon's hands performed that miracle; his quick, nerveless, trained hands. A stud here ... a lever there ... a swift wrenching toss of the shoulders. His face twisted back over his shoulder, and his straining lips pulled taut and bloodless away
at his arm, panting, "The officers?" and his own unfelt assurance. "They can take care of themselves. It's a general 'bandon ship." Enid Andrews stumbling over the hem of a filmy peignoir ... himself bending to lift her boldly and bodily, sweating palms feeling the warm animal heat of her excited body hot beneath them ... Crystal Andrews stopping suddenly, crying, "'Tina!" ... and Hannigan's reply, "Your maid? I woke her. She's in the life-skiff." Bert Andrews stopping suddenly, being sick in the middle of the corridor, his drunkenness losing itself in the thick, sure nausea of the ever-increasing unsteadiness
the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone. He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time? He returned
Question:
What did Garrett do to make the girl believe that he is Star and Star is Garrett?
Answer:
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[
"Firstly, a month ago, Garrett pretends to be Star and successfully deceived the girl’s father and was communicating with him about his development on some power processes. And according to the girl, she was captured by Garrett and brought to the craft around a month ago. Note that no one knows what he is really hoping to accomplish by pretending to be Star. Secondly, for the past month, he has been using 3-dimensional images and detailed description of Star as Garrett to make the girl believe his made-up identity. This also finishes successfully and the girl was sure that Star was Garrett, Garret as Star. Thirdly, during the execution, Garrett uses the delay in voice from the visual images to make sure that the girl will not be able to hear anything that the Section Void Headquarters would say when they see Garrett murdering Star. But he lets her see the images so that when their faces are filled with surprises to see Star being captured, the visual images will lead the girl to believe that they are shocked because they see Garret. However, this part of the plan failed. The girl is able to read lips, thus from the visuals, she knows exactly what the headquarters are saying. Hence she learns the truth of Garrett and Star’s identity. She also learns that he has been lying to him and her father. ",
"Prior to meeting the girl, Anne Hinton, Devil Garrett, the top space pirate, had contacted Anne’s father Old John Hinton while posing as Starrett Blade. Garrett’s deception of Anne is furthered by his forgery of certain documents, including papers describing Garrett as having Star’s description, and a three-dimensional picture. \nHis deception, however, is foiled during a transmission between the pirate and Police Commander Weddel which was meant to broadcast Star’s execution. During the silent broadcast, Weddel’s mouth moves and Anne is able to read his lips, coming to believe that Star is who he claims to be. \n",
"To make Anne believe that Garrett is Star and Star is Garrett, Garrett communicated with her father, posing as Star and claiming that he was interested in working with him to develop power plants. John Hinton, who supplies Star with much of his equipment, agreed to work with Garrett. Anne has been staying with Garrett for a month, during which he showed her fake papers and photos that supported his lie. Once Anne met Star for the first time, she was under the belief that Garrett was actually Star. Because of this, she immediately thought that Star was lying when he shared his name, and was able to help bring him to Garrett. ",
"Garrett made the girl believe that he was Star and that Star was Garrett because he provided her with papers that he claimed showed a picture of Garrett with a description. The picture was in fact one of Star Blade. In addition, he had his guards pretend that he was Star Blade too. However, unlike the girl, the guards knew that he was actually Garrett. He made the girl fear Star Blade (pretending Star was actually Garrett) by telling the girl that Star was a horrible pirate that killed many people and had to be executed. In addition, the girl’s father communicated with Garrett while he was pretending to be Star. This is another reason she thought she could trust him. "
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Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got "Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing. By whom—her boy friend? Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend
library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications! You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though. Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb. He remembered Kay's
at Crystal Andrews. There was no fear in her eyes. Just a hotness and an inexplicable anger. Beside her was the other girl, the maid, 'Tina; she was frankly afraid. Her teeth were clenched in her nether lip, and her eyes were wide and anxious, but she did not cry out. Only a miracle could save them now. But Breadon's hands performed that miracle; his quick, nerveless, trained hands. A stud here ... a lever there ... a swift wrenching toss of the shoulders. His face twisted back over his shoulder, and his straining lips pulled taut and bloodless away
at his arm, panting, "The officers?" and his own unfelt assurance. "They can take care of themselves. It's a general 'bandon ship." Enid Andrews stumbling over the hem of a filmy peignoir ... himself bending to lift her boldly and bodily, sweating palms feeling the warm animal heat of her excited body hot beneath them ... Crystal Andrews stopping suddenly, crying, "'Tina!" ... and Hannigan's reply, "Your maid? I woke her. She's in the life-skiff." Bert Andrews stopping suddenly, being sick in the middle of the corridor, his drunkenness losing itself in the thick, sure nausea of the ever-increasing unsteadiness
the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone. He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time? He returned
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about DEATH STAR by TOM PACE.
Relevant chunks:
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"The story starts with Starrett (Star) Blade’s ship falling into one of the lakes on Alpha Centauri III. We then learns that Currently Star is trying to hunt Devil Garrett down, but his ship was hit by an energy-beam shot by Garrett, who is the top space pirate for years. After he fell, he hopes that Garrett himself will come here to look for him, but only one of Garrett’s men appears and he is killed by Star. He also notices a person with another gun right after he murders that man. He almost kills this person as well, but is able to stop in time due to his strong reflex skills. The reason that he stopped is because she is a girl. She has beautiful dark colored hair and eyes. But she does not stop trying to capture him. Before he can explain himself, he is knocked out. \n\nWhen Star has finally waken up, he is already in a lab chair with Garrett is right in front of him. To his surprise, Garrett calls him Garrett, instead of Star. The girl clearly believes Garrett that Star is actually Garrett. However, again, before he can explain his situation to the girl, he is knocked out. Right after he wakes up, he learns that he will be executed. Then, he starts thinking of the girl again, but he does not really understand why he is thinking of her. Before he can do anything, he is taken from his cell. Standing 5 yards away from the gun that Garrett is holding, he tries to find a way that he could escape. He is glad to see that it is a two way transmitter, but loses his hope again when he realizes that it is an old-style transmitter. Then as the visual image started to form, Garrett is ready to perform the execution. Star cunningly kicks the metal fork onto the vision transmitter, which diverts Garrett’s attention, and causes him to miss the shot. But because he is outnumbered by Garrett’s men, he is caught and knocked out again. After he wake up, the girl finds him and tells him that she is capable of reading lips. Even though the visual images has no sound, she knows what the Section Void Headquarters said, and that he is the actual Star. \n\nGarrett enters the cell after he finds out that the girl knows the real identity of him and Star. So he brings them to a room filled with machines. He imagines to have hundreds of those on Alpha III and he will be able to rule an entire world. Then suddenly the girl takes Garrett’s weapon and Star is able to kill him very quickly. And Commander Weddel, getting the signal that Star tried to send using the metal fork, gets here just on time to capture Garrett’s men. ",
"Starrett Blade’s ship has crashed into one of the deep stagnant lakes on the surface of Alpha Centauri III, struck down by a Barden energy beam fired by Devil Garrett, a space pirate. Star Blade, ejected to safety and now hiding by the lake, waits for Garrett to come for him. Meanwhile, he wonders about the source of the energy for the Barden Beam, as Garrett doesn’t have power plants on the planet, nor is there running water to generate hydroelectric power. Suddenly, Star notices one of Garrett’s soldiers and ambushes him. \nStar Blade, who has earned the nickname Death Star for his fighting prowess, dispatches his fist adversary, and soon after notices another: a beautiful, dark-haired woman. She confronts him, calling him a pirate. He dismisses this accusation, and asserts his identity, but she does not believe him. A brief fight ensues, but is quickly settled when Star is struck by another combatant.\nAs Star wakes in a cell, he is confronted by Devil Garrett’s face, Garrett’s underlings, and the dark-haired woman. Garrett, who has assumed Star Blade’s identity in order to trick the woman whom he calls Miss Hinton, announces that he will shortly execute Blade, whom he has tricked Hinton into believing is himself. \nStar is brought before a transmitter which only transmits images. As the live image of Commander Weddel, a police officer, appears on the screen, Garrett quickly throws a piece of metal at the transmitter’s dial board and disrupts the transmission. One of Garrett’s men renders Star unconscious. \nStar regains consciousness and finds Hinton in his cell. She reveals that, during the transmission, she was able to read Weddel’s lips and now believes that he is who he claims to be. She introduces herself to be Anne Hinton, daughter of a weapons manufacturer whom Garrett had secretly contacted while posing as Star. Anne tells Star that Garrett has discovered a method of electrolyzing water into its elemental constituents, which Star speculates to be a potential source of energy. \nSuddenly, Garrett enters the room and leads Anne and Star to a cavernous room at gunpoint. The room is full of vats and machinery, which Star concludes are the reaction vessels in which water is electrolyzed and the energy generated. Garrett reveals that his plan is to use his technology to construct many Barden Beams in order to take over the planet. \nStar removes an obscured weapon, and dispatches Devil Garrett. He quickly takes out two more pirates, before two more surrender. Commander Weddel appears, and Star reveals that his damaging the transmitter resulted in a distress signal being sent out.\nThe story concludes with Anna asking how soon the technology discovered by Garrett can be used to bring life to Alpha Centauri III, and her asking him if it would be a good place to honeymoon. \n",
"Starrett Blade, a fighter nicknamed \"Death Star\", has been on the hunt for Devil Garrett, the most dangerous and well-known space pirate. While flying over Alpha Centauri III, a barren and lifeless planet, Star's ship is shot down by a Barden beam, causing him to crash into a lake. Confused as to how such a powerful beam could have been shot on this planet, Star is met with one of Garrett's armed men. Star attacks the man and sees a girl, who he is perplexed by. The girl threatens him, and Star replies by explaining that he's not a pirate, but Death Star. The girl immediately attacks him, knocking him out. Star awakes in a room with the girl, some more men, and face to face with Devil Garrett. To his surprise, Garrett addresses him as the deadly pirate, and calls himself Starrett Blade. Star realizes that Garrett has attempted to swap identities with him, convincing the girl that Garrett was actually the one being captured. Garrett tells Star that he is to be executed, broadcasted to the authorities. Star is knocked out again, this time waking up in a cell and rid of all weapons except for his ace card. Two of Garrett's men enter the cell, and Star attempts to fight them both, which is successful, but his plan is cut short when Garrett steps into the room. Star is led to the execution site, where he stands by a transmitter with Garrett in front of him bearing a gun, the girl next to him. Star inspects the transmitter and realizes that there is a chance the authorities will be able to identify him as the true Star, hopeful that the girl will realize her mistake; however, he concludes that the transmitter's sound wave speed would not be fast enough for the message to come through. As Star faces execution, he flings a fork at the transmitter, damaging a unit of the machine and burning it out. This causes a distraction, and Star is attacked by Garrett's men and falls unconscious again, yet this time accompanied by the girl, who knows now of his true identity due to her ability to read lips on the transmitter. The girl reveals she is Anne Hinton, daughter of John Hinton, who manufactures space equipment. Garrett contacted John, disguising himself as Star to gain his support in crafting hundreds of power plants with Barden beams in order to gain control of the entire planet of Alpha III. Once Garrett reveals his plan, Star uses his ace card, which is a jet weapon, to kill him. Together, Anne and Star fight off Garrett's men, and Star reveals that when he flung the fork at the transmitter, it set off a signal attracting the authorities to their location. With that, Commander Weddel arrives and Garrett's men are turned over to him. Garrett's power plants are then used not for the objective to gain dangerous power, but to supply energy and life to the planet.",
"The story begins with Starrett’s Blade being destroyed and sinking in a body of water. He was able to save himself because of an emergency release that allowed him to be ejected from the air-locked doors. Star is attacked by a man but successfully kills the man with his electron knife. After he kills the man, he sees a girl that distracts him. While he is distracted, he is struck and beaten. When he wakes up after being beaten, he is standing in front of Garrett. Garrett pretends that he is actually Star, for the benefit of the girl, and pretends that Star is actually Garrett. Garret tells Star that he is going to be executed and puts Star into a prison cell.\n\nStar wakes up in his prison cell and is still concerned about what the girl thinks of him. Star fights against the two guards that come to get him from his cell. He stops fighting them when Garrett appears holding an electron knife, as Star sees that as a dangerous weapon. Star is guided towards the transmitter for his planned executive. However, Star thwarts the execution plans by throwing a metal fork at the transmitter which damages it. Again, he gets distracted because of the girl and is beaten. \n\nLater, the girl appears in his cell trying to help him. She tells him that she is Anne Hinton, the daughter of Old John Hinton. Start mentions that he is familiar with her father. Garrett finds the two trying to escape. He leads them down a long corridor and into an incredibly expansive room. Garrett tells them his plan to control the world. Star remembers that he has another weapon at his disposal and uses it to kill Garrett. Anne and Star then go on to kill some of the guards. Commander Weddel shows up to Star’s delight after the Commander received a distress signal from the transmitter. Star is excited about Garrett’s power plant as he exclaims that it will bring life to the barren Centauri planets. \n"
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"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
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What happens to Marie throughout the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Snare by Richard Rein Smith.
Relevant chunks:
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
guards, and kill him at once!" Eric tensed to break away but now it was too late. His captors were alert. They increased the twist on his arms until he almost screamed with the pain. The crowd parted, and the guard came through, his red silk clothing gleaming in the sun, his sword bright and deadly. He stopped before Eric, and the sword swirled up like a saber, ready for a slashing cut downward across Eric's neck. A woman's voice, soft and yet authoritative, called, "Hold!" And a murmur of respect rippled through the crowd. "Nolette! The Daughter of the
out to find it again. Be of good hope. Everything will be all right." Michael turned from the window. "So there's our evidence. Two thousand years. All the others killed getting it. And with a simple twist, it becomes a lie." Mary sat down and buried her face in her hands. "What a terrible failure there's been here," said Michael. "The neglect and destruction of a whole planet. It's like a family letting their home decay all around them, and living in smaller and smaller rooms of it, until at last the rooms are all gone, and since they can't
find another home, they all die in the ruins of the last room." "I can't face dying," Mary said quietly, "squeezed in with all these people, in this tomb they've made around the seas. I want to have the open sky and the quiet away from those awful pounding pumps when I die. I want the spread of the Earth all around and the clean air. I want to be a real part of the Earth again." Michael barely nodded in agreement. He was standing very still now. And then there was the sound of the door opening. They both
pry the baby away from the doctors without attracting too much attention to himself in the process? Five doctors were bustling back and forth as Walton entered the main section of the clinic. There must have been a hundred babies there, each in a little pen of its own, and the doctors were humming from one to the next, while anxious parents watched from screens above. The Equalization Law provided that every child be presented at its local clinic within two weeks of birth, for an examination and a certificate. Perhaps one in ten thousand would be denied a certificate
Question:
What happens to Marie throughout the story?
Answer:
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[
"Marie is the wife of Kane, the sharp, brash anti-hero of the story. She begins on the walk with the rest of the crew, ending up on the alien spaceship. When Kane is thrown into a separate room from the rest of the crew, Marie throws herself against the door and tries with all her strength to get it to open, until she herself is put in a separate room. The room is dark, and she is touched by a telepathic voice that tells her not to worry. They won't hurt her, and they only want to learn something about her. The voice seems to search through her memories, looking at her high school days. It also looked at human customs and their lives in general. The room must be filled with some sort of happiness gas, because she comes out of it to join the rest of the crew in an airy, relaxed mood that soon wears off. She then searches the ship for a way to break out with the rest of the group but finds nothing. She goes to sleep with Verana. She wakes up to Kane having tied them all up. When Kane is strangling Ed, she screams at him to stop. Eventually though, the computer lets them go home. ",
"Marie is the wife of Harry Kane. She joins Harry, Ed, Miller, and Verana on a walk on the Moon at the beginning of the story. When they encounter the object, she is the second one to enter through its opening, following her husband despite being frightened. Marie and the rest of the group examine the object, walking down its large corridor, when she is suddenly pushed into a room by a mysterious force. Marie is then separated by the group, returning to them later and dizzily explaining how her mind was searched and prodded for memories. Once Marie falls out of her trance and Harry returns, she returns to being frightened and panicking. She rests that night with Verana, and awakes the next morning tied to a chair, where Kane is executing his plan.",
"\nMarie is the wife of Harry Kane. She initially follows her husband into the spaceship. Then, after he is pushed into one of the rooms, she floats across the corridor into another room. Marie screams and struggles, but she is taken away regardless. Later, she comes back into the observatory and says a voice spoke to her telepathically when she was in the dark room. She then says that the voice was interested in her memories, especially the high school ones about English and history. However, she could also feel it searching for memories of general life and customs. The voice spoke very nicely to her too, which made her happy and calm. Later, she is frightened again once the machine reveals what is going to happen to them. She cares for Kane after he has his violent outburst but becomes involved in his later plan again. \n\n",
"Marie approaches the sphere together with the whole group and follows Kane, her husband, inside. There she is as scared as everyone, passes the corridor, and when a door closes behind her husband she starts beating it violently. Then she floats into another door which shuts behind screaming Marie. In a while she appears in the observatory with a calm face. She tells about a telepathic voice in the dark which calmed her down and searched through her memories. While she listens to her husband's story about the experiment and their future as prisoners on an alien planet, the calm effect disappears and she is filled with terror of dissection, for example. Then she searches the ship together with the rest of the group without effect and goes to sleep. She was frightened all the way. Soon she is joined by her husband in bed. In the morning she finds herself bound to a chair together with Ed and Verana in the kitchen. She is upset and feels shame for her husband, she is also scared of him choking Ed. She asks her husband to let go of Ed. Eventually, she returns to the Moon together with the group. "
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its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
guards, and kill him at once!" Eric tensed to break away but now it was too late. His captors were alert. They increased the twist on his arms until he almost screamed with the pain. The crowd parted, and the guard came through, his red silk clothing gleaming in the sun, his sword bright and deadly. He stopped before Eric, and the sword swirled up like a saber, ready for a slashing cut downward across Eric's neck. A woman's voice, soft and yet authoritative, called, "Hold!" And a murmur of respect rippled through the crowd. "Nolette! The Daughter of the
out to find it again. Be of good hope. Everything will be all right." Michael turned from the window. "So there's our evidence. Two thousand years. All the others killed getting it. And with a simple twist, it becomes a lie." Mary sat down and buried her face in her hands. "What a terrible failure there's been here," said Michael. "The neglect and destruction of a whole planet. It's like a family letting their home decay all around them, and living in smaller and smaller rooms of it, until at last the rooms are all gone, and since they can't
find another home, they all die in the ruins of the last room." "I can't face dying," Mary said quietly, "squeezed in with all these people, in this tomb they've made around the seas. I want to have the open sky and the quiet away from those awful pounding pumps when I die. I want the spread of the Earth all around and the clean air. I want to be a real part of the Earth again." Michael barely nodded in agreement. He was standing very still now. And then there was the sound of the door opening. They both
pry the baby away from the doctors without attracting too much attention to himself in the process? Five doctors were bustling back and forth as Walton entered the main section of the clinic. There must have been a hundred babies there, each in a little pen of its own, and the doctors were humming from one to the next, while anxious parents watched from screens above. The Equalization Law provided that every child be presented at its local clinic within two weeks of birth, for an examination and a certificate. Perhaps one in ten thousand would be denied a certificate
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What are Ed and Verana's relationship to each other?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Snare by Richard Rein Smith.
Relevant chunks:
to watching Pat Mead. She felt disloyal. Pat was only a superb animal. Max was the man she loved. Or—was he? Of course he was, she told herself angrily. They had gone colonizing together because they wanted to spend their lives together; she had never thought of marrying any other man. Yet the sense of dissatisfaction persisted, and along with it a feeling of guilt. Len Marlow, the protein tank-culture technician responsible for the mushroom steaks, had wormed his way into the group and asked Pat a question. Now he was saying, "I don't dig you, Pat. It sounds like
... and life. "Hello, Mr. Walton. What brings you down here?" Walton smiled affably. "Just a routine investigation, Doctor. I try to keep in touch with every department we have, you know." "Mr. FitzMaugham was down here to look around a little while ago. We're really getting a going-over today, Mr. Walton!" "Umm. Yes." Walton didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd have to rely on the old man's abiding faith in his protégé to pull him out of any possible stickiness that arose. "Seen my brother around?" he asked. "Fred? He's working in
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
they paused. "When are you doctors going to let us out of this blithering barberpole? Look," she pointed. "See that patch of field on the south hillside, with the brook winding through it? I've staked that hillside for our house. When do we get out?" Reno Ulrich's tiny scout plane buzzed slowly in from the distance and began circling lazily. "Sooner than you think," Max told her. "We've discovered a castaway colony on the planet. They've done our tests for us by just living here. If there's anything here to catch, they've caught it." "People on Minos?" Bess's handsome ruddy
ha-ha-ing around waving a test tube. Fell down a ravine and broke his neck at the age of eighty." "A character," Max said. Why was she afraid? "It worked then?" "Yes. He tried it on all the Meads the first year. The other settlers didn't want to be experimented on until they saw how it worked out. It worked. The Meads could hunt, and plant while the other settlers were still eating out of hydroponics tanks." "It worked," said Max to Len. "You're a plant geneticist and a tank culture expert. There's a job for you." "Uh- uh !" Len
Question:
What are Ed and Verana's relationship to each other?
Answer:
|
[
"Ed and Verana are husband and wife. They live together in \"Lunar City, on the Moon, and have for the past year. Together, they're friends with the rest of the group. After Marie climbs into the star ship, Ed asks Verana if she wants to go in. They act as a team, always doing everything together. They are left in the passageway alone after Kane and Marie are taken. Ed holds Verana's hand as they walk down the corridor, a sign of affection. They explore the ship together first, always working together, discovering the meaning of the instructive drawings and the purpose of the different rooms. They sleep together in the same pod. ",
"Ed and Verana are husband and wife; the two have a pleasant dynamic and get along well. Before entering the strange object, the two ask each other if they want to go in, rather than trying to convince the other. When the two are left alone after Marie and Kane are taken into separate rooms, they work together to investigate the rest of the corridor and try to piece together bits of information cooperatively. Ed describes Verana as having an inner calmness and peacefulness, noting that it is a unique aspect of her personality. The two are similar in their rational approaches to the situation. ",
"Ed and Verana are married to each other. They get along well, and the two of them often stick together. Verana can stay calm in many situations because of an inner serenity that few people possess. On the other hand, Ed also tries to keep calm in most situations but gets nervous if it is potentially dangerous to him or his wife. When Verana is scared after what happens to Marie in the corridor, he puts his arm around her protectively and holds her close. Ed also knows Verana’s interests very well. He is aware that she is part of a group researching extra-sensory perception, and she most likely would have loved the opportunity to experience what Marie had.",
"Ed and Verana are married. They go side by side through the sphere, hesitating for a second before entry but making this decision together. When they are left alone in the corridor, Ed sees her fear and holds her close. Ed is also scared but he takes charge of the situation to lead his wife, and when other doors open the couple enters together. They follow each other through the rooms and each one does the same actions as another. Ed remembers about Verana's interest in extra-sensory perception and even wonders sarcastically if she is disappointed about not being contacted. The two are relatively calm and secure, they understand that nothing can be done and agree to it. Verana thinks logically and with inner serenity, Ed appreciates it and feels calm and resigned. They are similar and therefore make up a stable couple. Verana is scared for her husband when Kane is choking it as a normal wife would be, but overall the couple is as calm as possible. Moreover, both are rather interested in the aliens and support each other all the way, their couple is harmonious, especially on the contrast."
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to watching Pat Mead. She felt disloyal. Pat was only a superb animal. Max was the man she loved. Or—was he? Of course he was, she told herself angrily. They had gone colonizing together because they wanted to spend their lives together; she had never thought of marrying any other man. Yet the sense of dissatisfaction persisted, and along with it a feeling of guilt. Len Marlow, the protein tank-culture technician responsible for the mushroom steaks, had wormed his way into the group and asked Pat a question. Now he was saying, "I don't dig you, Pat. It sounds like
... and life. "Hello, Mr. Walton. What brings you down here?" Walton smiled affably. "Just a routine investigation, Doctor. I try to keep in touch with every department we have, you know." "Mr. FitzMaugham was down here to look around a little while ago. We're really getting a going-over today, Mr. Walton!" "Umm. Yes." Walton didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd have to rely on the old man's abiding faith in his protégé to pull him out of any possible stickiness that arose. "Seen my brother around?" he asked. "Fred? He's working in
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
they paused. "When are you doctors going to let us out of this blithering barberpole? Look," she pointed. "See that patch of field on the south hillside, with the brook winding through it? I've staked that hillside for our house. When do we get out?" Reno Ulrich's tiny scout plane buzzed slowly in from the distance and began circling lazily. "Sooner than you think," Max told her. "We've discovered a castaway colony on the planet. They've done our tests for us by just living here. If there's anything here to catch, they've caught it." "People on Minos?" Bess's handsome ruddy
ha-ha-ing around waving a test tube. Fell down a ravine and broke his neck at the age of eighty." "A character," Max said. Why was she afraid? "It worked then?" "Yes. He tried it on all the Meads the first year. The other settlers didn't want to be experimented on until they saw how it worked out. It worked. The Meads could hunt, and plant while the other settlers were still eating out of hydroponics tanks." "It worked," said Max to Len. "You're a plant geneticist and a tank culture expert. There's a job for you." "Uh- uh !" Len
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What effect does Kane's violent drinking outburst have on the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Snare by Richard Rein Smith.
Relevant chunks:
them. The Deacons' backs were turned to me and I could see the prisoners' faces. They had curious faces. Their eyes were indescribably sad, and yet their lips seemed to be ready to smile at any moment. They were holding hands, not seeming to care about this vulgar emotional display. I had the sudden crazy idea that Lara and I were sitting there, holding hands like that, nonconforming in the highest, and that we were wonderfully happy. Our eyes were sad too, but we were really happy, quietly happy, and that was why our lips stayed upon the brink of
costume than she had the night before. If so, recognition might prove difficult. He poured himself another drink, promising himself he would go in search of her when the liquor began to take effect. A woman clad in the revealing garb of a Persian dancer threw an arm about him from behind and kissed him on the cheek through the veil which covered the lower part of her face. "Hi, honey," she giggled into his ear. "Havin' a time?" He reached for the white arm to pull her to him, but she eluded his grasp and reeled away into the
going to be and why it was being thrown in their laps. MacDonald made himself comfortable and sat there for a few minutes, just looking grim and not saying anything. Escher knew the psychology by heart. A short preliminary silence is always more effective in browbeating subordinates than an initial furious bluster. He lit a cigarette and tried to outwait MacDonald. It wasn't easy—MacDonald had great staying powers, which was probably why he was the head of the department. Escher gave in first. "Okay, Mac, what's the trouble? What do we have tossed in our laps now?" "You know the
monthly pittance was still two weeks away.... He had skimped for six months to salvage enough money from his allowance to make a down payment on the telporter suit. Since then, his expenses—monthly payments for the suit, cabin rent, costly liquor—had forced him to place his nights of escape on strict ration. He could not go on this way, he realized. Not now. Not since he had met the girl. He had to have more money. Perhaps he could not afford the luxury of leaving the wine bottle longer upon the shelf.... Riverside Club, where Hyrel arrived by bus and
unseen sources. Laughter—hysterical, drunken, filled with utter abandonment—came from the dance floor, the tables, and the private booths and rooms hidden cleverly within the walls. Hyrel pushed himself to an unoccupied table, sat down and ordered a bottle of cheap whiskey. He would have preferred champagne, but his depleted finances forbade the more discriminate taste. When his order arrived, he poured a glass tumbler half full and consumed it eagerly while his eyes scanned the room in search of the girl. He couldn't see her in the dim swirl of color. Had she arrived? Perhaps she was wearing a different
Question:
What effect does Kane's violent drinking outburst have on the story?
Answer:
|
[
"Ed and Kane go to the kitchen and start to sample random bottles and foods. Kane finds a brown bottle filled with a strong liquid. The artificial intelligence explains that it is a liquor intended to mimic something like what the alien race presumed would be created on Earth. He starts to drink it and soon becomes intoxicated. He starts to punch himself and then beats his head against the wall. His knuckles become bloody and he gets a bruise on his head. The computer asks him not to hurt himself, as its masters will be disappointed if they arrive in the alien world injured. The computer has no way to physically interfere with the crew. This hatches an idea in Kane's mind. If the computer arrives with a damaged or even dead crew, then the machine will have failed its assignment. He threatens to kill the entire crew, which would mean that the machine would arrive on the planet empty handed. He offers the machine an alternative. If it drops them back on Mars, then it will not have really failed, because the only way to truly fail would be to arrive with a dead crew. Additionally, if the machine stayed on the Moon's surface, it might have an opportunity to pick up another crew in the future. This plan is all due to a whiskey-like substance. ",
"Kane's violent drinking outburst initially causes him to punch the wall with his fist, causing him to bleed. This causes the machine to respond by pleading with Kane, revealing that its masters ordered it to bring the humans to them unscathed. This revelation about the machine's conditions inspires Kane further, and the next morning, he constructs a plan to get the group off the ship. Still intoxicated, Kane ties up the group, and uses violence against Ed to get the machine to free them. Thus, Kane's outburst, though chaotic and violent, ultimately led to the group's freedom.",
"Kane’s violent drinking outburst helps him think of a solution to force the machine to let them go back to the Moon. He initially does not know what to do, but he notices the machine does not want the human passengers getting injured when it desperately tells him to stop beating against the wall. This reaction helps him formulate a plan, and he decides to tie Ed, Verana, and even his wife Marie up. He tries to explain to Ed that the machine is afraid of displeasing its masters, which is why he has found the solution to their problem. His plan, therefore, is to threaten to kill all of them until the machine turns the ship around. He puts it into motion, and it scares the machine enough that it works to convince it to let them go back. ",
"Due to Kane's drinking outburst the machine agrees to return to the Moon. The situation seems to have no solution, but as promised, Kane finds one. If he wasn't drunk, this wouldn't occur him, he wouldn't have enough determination. But Kane's aggressive nature together with alcohol have made him violent enough to make this scene. The machine is confused and doesn't know what to do, Kane's move is clever and he urges the machine to return. This saves the group from being held on an alien planet but it also scares everyone in the group and puts Ed in danger. This action prevents the group from meeting aliens."
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them. The Deacons' backs were turned to me and I could see the prisoners' faces. They had curious faces. Their eyes were indescribably sad, and yet their lips seemed to be ready to smile at any moment. They were holding hands, not seeming to care about this vulgar emotional display. I had the sudden crazy idea that Lara and I were sitting there, holding hands like that, nonconforming in the highest, and that we were wonderfully happy. Our eyes were sad too, but we were really happy, quietly happy, and that was why our lips stayed upon the brink of
costume than she had the night before. If so, recognition might prove difficult. He poured himself another drink, promising himself he would go in search of her when the liquor began to take effect. A woman clad in the revealing garb of a Persian dancer threw an arm about him from behind and kissed him on the cheek through the veil which covered the lower part of her face. "Hi, honey," she giggled into his ear. "Havin' a time?" He reached for the white arm to pull her to him, but she eluded his grasp and reeled away into the
going to be and why it was being thrown in their laps. MacDonald made himself comfortable and sat there for a few minutes, just looking grim and not saying anything. Escher knew the psychology by heart. A short preliminary silence is always more effective in browbeating subordinates than an initial furious bluster. He lit a cigarette and tried to outwait MacDonald. It wasn't easy—MacDonald had great staying powers, which was probably why he was the head of the department. Escher gave in first. "Okay, Mac, what's the trouble? What do we have tossed in our laps now?" "You know the
monthly pittance was still two weeks away.... He had skimped for six months to salvage enough money from his allowance to make a down payment on the telporter suit. Since then, his expenses—monthly payments for the suit, cabin rent, costly liquor—had forced him to place his nights of escape on strict ration. He could not go on this way, he realized. Not now. Not since he had met the girl. He had to have more money. Perhaps he could not afford the luxury of leaving the wine bottle longer upon the shelf.... Riverside Club, where Hyrel arrived by bus and
unseen sources. Laughter—hysterical, drunken, filled with utter abandonment—came from the dance floor, the tables, and the private booths and rooms hidden cleverly within the walls. Hyrel pushed himself to an unoccupied table, sat down and ordered a bottle of cheap whiskey. He would have preferred champagne, but his depleted finances forbade the more discriminate taste. When his order arrived, he poured a glass tumbler half full and consumed it eagerly while his eyes scanned the room in search of the girl. He couldn't see her in the dim swirl of color. Had she arrived? Perhaps she was wearing a different
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Snare by Richard Rein Smith.
Relevant chunks:
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"Ed, along with his wife Verana, and their friends Kane, Miller and Marie are out for a walk on the surface of the Moon. They live there, working in the lunar city. They come across a spherical object, about 2 miles in diameter. Miller, a mineralogist, declares that the metal must be at least a few thousand years old. A circular door opens, revealing a small room inside. Kane enters the room. The rest of the group decide to join Kane, but as Miller tries to cross the threshold, he is thrown back. The door shuts behind the group and they are trapped inside. The group try to intercom back to Miller, and then radio back to Lunar City, but all they get is static. The group realise that they are flying through outer space. An inner door opens to reveal a passageway. They arrive at a dead end at the end of the passageway. Just then, a door opens to the right of Kane, an invisible force pushing him into a separate room, and locking the entrance behind him. Marie, his wife is lifted up and placed into a separate chamber. Ed and Verana search the corridor, the remaining doors opening for them. The couple wander around the rooms for eating, sleeping, recreation, bathing and an observatory. A few minutes later, they are joined by Marie and Kane. The two relay how they were told that this ship belongs to an Alien race which arrived on Earth thousands of years ago, and wanted to study humans once they gained the ability of space flight. They mean no harm and want to take them to their planet to study them. They are met by the voice of a faceless artificial intelligence controlling the ship. It informs them there is no way to turn it's course around. The group search the rooms for tools for escape, but soon realise that there is nothing. Kane tries to think of a solution to their problem. Kane starts to drink a liquid like whiskey, which makes him intoxicated. Kane begins to beat himself up. The machine tells him to stop, and that if it arrives with a damaged crew, it's masters will be disappointed. The machine informs the crew that it has no way to physically interact with or restrain them. *blank* brings Kane to his bunker and goes back to his wife to go to sleep. They wake up later, all tied to chairs in the \"kitchen\". Kane has knocked them out in their sleep and restrained them. Kane starts to choke Ed, asking the machine what will happen if the ship arrives to the alien world, and all the crew are dead. The machine would have failed its assignment. Kane proposes that if the machine takes them back to the Moon, then the computer will not have failed, and it might have the chance again to pick up a crew. The machine agrees and takes them on a course for the Moon. ",
"Mankind has moved from Earth and lived on the Moon for over a year. One evening, Ed and his wife Verana, along with Miller, Harry Kane and his wife Marie, decide to take a leisurely stroll on the Moon's surface. As they walk along the path, they stumble upon a strange large object, a spherical figure of metal that, according to Kane, an experienced mineralogist, was several thousand years old. As the group examines the object, they notice an opening forming on its surface. Kane climbs through the opening and convinces the rest of the group to follow him. As Miller climbs through the opening, he is suddenly pushed back onto the ground as the opening shuts, locking the four inside the object. They soon lose connection in their intercoms and realize that the static they hear is due to the fact that the object is beginning to move through outer space. Another door opens, revealing a long corridor, and Ed and the group take off their spacesuits, taking in the oxygen. As they reach the end of the corridor, two doors open as Marie and Kane are shoved into separate rooms. Ed and Verana, now alone, walk back down the corridor where six rooms are open, finding strange food, games, and an observatory. Marie returns in a trance, saying that a telepathic voice had reached out to her in the room and searched her memories. Kane walks in shortly after, enraged, explaining that aliens had taken the group captive after planting the object on the Moon as a booby trap; they are to be on the ship for six months and be experimented on as members of the human race. Kane suggests that the group find a way to take control of the ship, when a mysterious voice fills the room, discouraging him. The voice explains that it is a machine located in the ship, and that its masters want to study the group to fulfill their curiosity about humans. After searching the entirety of the rooms open to them, the group gives up, and Ed and Kane meet in the kitchen while their wives are asleep. Kane comes across a bottle of alcohol, and becomes intoxicated, growing increasingly violent. When he punches the wall, the machine asks him not to hurt himself, as its masters do not want the humans to arrive damaged. The next morning, Ed, Verana, and Marie awake tied to chairs in the kitchen, as Kane walks in, still drunk. Kane has a plan to make the machine let the group go; he strangles Ed, causing the machine to plead, and Kane gives the machine an ultimatum: return the group back to the Moon or bring the group to its masters, dead. The machine agrees to return the group to the Moon just before Ed loses consciousness.\n",
"Ed and his crew are traveling across the Mare Serenitatis (Sea of Serenity) on the Moon. They see a smooth metal object protruding from the surface and go closer to investigate. The object looks foreign, and Ed wants to call the Lunar City authorities. However, Kane stops him and says this could be an opportunity to become famous. Ed agrees with Kane’s idea, and Miller explains that the strange object was made thousands of years ago from an even stronger alloy than steel. The crew goes into the steel object through an opening, where Kane tells his wife, Marie, he sees gadgets for controls and weird drawings. Marie climbs through the passage, and Ed helps his wife Verana too. He tries to help Miller through the opening, but an invisible force suddenly pushes Miller out of view. Ed strikes an invisible wall and realizes that the door has closed on them. Suddenly, the lights turn on, and Kane tasks Miller with opening the door from the outside. Miller’s breath disappears soon after, and Ed tries to dial Lunar City but only hears static. They decide to explore the area, and a force suddenly shoves Kane through a door that closes behind him. Only Verana and Ed are left behind. Both of them are scared, and they go through the corridor again to see six open doors. They go into the nearest door and find containers alongside some drawings. Verana recognizes the strange containers as food, and they taste some of it. After exploring, they enter an observatory, where Marie joins them shortly after. She says that something spoke to her telepathically. Kane comes in angrily, and he exclaims that this ship is the booby-trap of a race from another galaxy. The trip is six months long, and a voice suddenly tells them that there is no chance they can bring the ship back to the Moon. The voice is a machine that is part of the ship, and it says that its masters are only curious about humans. The crew does not believe the voice, but they give up after five hours of fruitless searching. Kane gets drunk and has a violent outburst, which causes the machine to plead with him to stop because it will displease its alien masters. The next morning, Ed awakens to him, Marie, and Verana being tied in chairs by Kane. Kane then chokes Ed to show the machine that he is willing to kill everybody on this ship if it does not go back. He bargains with the machine and says that the alien masters will not learn about its failure to deliver live human cargo. The machine agrees to bring them back to the Moon. Kane lets go of Ed’s throat to triumphantly tell him that there is always a solution, while Ed is just happy to breathe again. ",
"A group of people are walking through a desert on the Moon when they discover a strange object which reminds a part of a sphere. The group decides to explore the object themselves to become wealthy and famous in case it's something important. The party finds a hole and gets inside the sphere. Suddenly, the door closes and leaves Miller, a feeble mineralogist outside. The group tries calling Lunar City but the radio is static as if they were in outer space.Then another door opens revealing a corridor and the party goes there, removing the helmets and breathing normally. Then another door opens and closes after Kane. Marie disappears behind another door in the same way. Ed and Verana are left alone, they are scared, so, when other doors open, Ed walks them both into the nearest one. One room follows another and in the end the couple sits down in an observatory and is soon joined by Marie. The least tells about a telepathic voice searching through her memories and calming her down. When Kane joins, he is angry about being guinea pigs. He explains that they are an experiment for aliens watching Earth develop for thousands of years already. Now the party is trapped and taken to an alien planet for study. While they are discussing the possibility of escape, the ship talks to them and says they can't escape but won't be harmed. It says the aliens are simply curious in examining people. After a full search the group gives up the idea to harm the ship or escape. The women go to sleep and the men are drinking in the kitchen. Ed is calm and curious, while Kane gets even more mad and aggressive than before. Ed drags Kane to the sleeping compartment and leaves with Marie. Ed goes to sleep with his wife. In the night Kane drags all three to the kitchen and ties them to chairs where they wake up. Kane plans to return home by any means and starts tightening his fingers around Ed's throat to make the machine act. After some thinking, the machine decides to return and Kane is proud of his success. "
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and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
moving things had unnerved him. He had already sounded the alert, flicked out the defense screens. Now he had nothing to do. He tried to concentrate on what the League Law would have him do. The Law was no help. Contact with planet-bound races was forbidden under any circumstances. But could a bunch of robots be called a race? The Law said nothing about robots because Earthmen had none. The building of imaginative robots was expressly forbidden. But at any rate, Steffens thought, he had made contact already. While Steffens stood by the screen, completely bewildered for the first time
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What equipment is employed throughout the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Signal Red by Henry Guth.
Relevant chunks:
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
and who thought that one day it might be habitable again. All the skill of the ancient Martian fathers went into the building of a giant machine, the machine that is the City, to protect a small colony of those who were chosen to remain on Mars." "This whole city is a machine!" Eric asked. "Yes, or the product of one. The heart of it lies underneath our feet, in caverns beneath this building. The nature of the machine is this, that it translates thought into reality." Eric stared. The idea was staggering. "This is essentially simple, although the technology
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
Orphans of the Void By MICHAEL SHAARA Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Finding a cause worth dying for is no great trick—the Universe is full of them. Finding one worth living for is the genuine problem! In the region of the Coal Sack Nebula, on the dead fourth planet of a star called Tyban, Captain Steffens of the Mapping Command stood counting buildings. Eleven. No, twelve. He wondered if there was any significance in
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
Question:
What equipment is employed throughout the story?
Answer:
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[
"One of the main pieces of equipment used on the Stardust liner is a loudspeaker. The primary role of the speaker is to give out instructions to the crew on the ship and makes any important announcements. The men also use phosphorescent bulbs as a light source to navigate their surroundings when the liner goes into total shutdown. Crew members also carry around a blaster for protection, most likely if there is ever a need for self-defense. There is also usage of a ray gun to fight back against the Uranian fleets. To ensure survival, emergency oxygen pipes are used to maintain atmosphere. Shano also carries a pack of cigarettes that do not seem important but later become essential to the story.",
"The ship is locked with multiple air locks. There is a panel of studs in the control room. The pilot is in earphones. A loud-speaker gives orders. Machinery is stopped and lights are out when ship is hiding from the enemy. For such cases there are emergency oxygen cylinders. Some men have blasters. There were port guns and ray guns and the battle was almost silent. Pipes are all around. There is a screen and a selector in the engine room which keep the ship going. Toxia gas is needed to make the selector work but people can't handle it. There is massive machinery and a shattered gold-gleaming cylinder in the engine room which make the whole ship move. Heavy rods are there which need to be lifted.",
"Firstly, Shano is wearing polarized goggles, but it is unclear what it is used for. Secondly, there is a gray box next to the pipes at the corner of the passageway, which is used to attract the Uranians detection since its dial needle keeps quivering when everything else went silence. It’s assumed by Shano that this device was planted by the spy of the Uranians. When Shano fights with Rourke, he first uses his cigarette to dug into Rourke’s face and uses his hand to grasp Rouke’s neck, which makes his face turn purple and choked to death. When Shano is fixing the rod, he simply uses his bare hand whenever the rods fall. ",
"There is various equipment employed throughout the story. Phosphorescent bulbs are used when the ship goes dark to light the passageways. A grey box with two switches and a radium dial is used. It is an electric signal box to give away the ship's position. An intercom is employed so the captain can speak to the crew. There are port guns used in battle. Atom motors are employed to keep the ship running. Shano uses the selector valve rods to keep the ship running. \n"
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The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
and who thought that one day it might be habitable again. All the skill of the ancient Martian fathers went into the building of a giant machine, the machine that is the City, to protect a small colony of those who were chosen to remain on Mars." "This whole city is a machine!" Eric asked. "Yes, or the product of one. The heart of it lies underneath our feet, in caverns beneath this building. The nature of the machine is this, that it translates thought into reality." Eric stared. The idea was staggering. "This is essentially simple, although the technology
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
Orphans of the Void By MICHAEL SHAARA Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Finding a cause worth dying for is no great trick—the Universe is full of them. Finding one worth living for is the genuine problem! In the region of the Coal Sack Nebula, on the dead fourth planet of a star called Tyban, Captain Steffens of the Mapping Command stood counting buildings. Eleven. No, twelve. He wondered if there was any significance in
its own folly. In other words, should he become the MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH? CAST OF CHARACTERS ROY WALTON He had to adopt the motto— the ends justify the means . FITZMAUGHAM His reward for devoted service was—an assassin's bullet. FRED WALTON His ambition was to fill his brother's shoes—but he underestimated their size. LEE PERCY His specialty was sugarcoating bitter pills. PRIOR With the pen as his only weapon, could he save his son? DR. LAMARRE He died for discovering the secret of immortality. Contents I The offices of the Bureau of Population Equalization, vulgarly known as Popeek,
|
Who is Rourke, and what are his traits in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Signal Red by Henry Guth.
Relevant chunks:
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
she guiltily told herself, and it was his tremendous vitality.... It was like meeting a movie hero in the flesh, or a hero out of the pages of a book—Deer-slayer, John Clayton, Lord Greystoke. She waited in the doorway to the laboratory and made no move to join them, merely acknowledged the two with a nod and a smile and a casual lift of the hand. They nodded and smiled back. "Hello, June," said Pat and continued telling his tale, but as they passed he lightly touched her arm. "Oh, pioneer!" she said mockingly and softly to his passing profile,
rapidly repaired the damage he'd done. As he watched them, Jon was still curious, but he was getting mad underneath at the cold egoism of the Steel-Blues. By the shimmering clouds of Earth, by her green fields, and dark forests, he'd stay alive to warn the SP ship. Yes, he'd stay alive till then. And send the story of the Steel-Blues' corrosive acid to it. Then hundreds of Earth's ships could equip themselves with spray guns and squirt citric acid and watch the Steel-Blues fade away. It sounded almost silly to Jon Karyl. The fruit acid of Earth to repel
of fear. "Adapted us to Minos. He took human cells—" She listened intently, trying to find a reason for fear in the explanation. It would have taken many human generations to adapt to Minos by ordinary evolution, and that only at a heavy toll of death and hunger which evolution exacts. There was a shorter way: Human cells have the ability to return to their primeval condition of independence, hunting, eating and reproducing alone. Alexander P. Mead took human cells and made them into phagocytes. He put them through the hard savage school of evolution—a thousand generations of multiplication, hardship
ship people. It was Pat Mead. He stood in the doorway, alertly scanning the dining room. Sheer vitality made him seem even larger than he was. Sighting June, he smiled and began to thread toward their table. "Look!" said someone. "There's the colonist!" Shelia, a pretty, jeweled woman, followed and caught his arm. "Did you really swim across a river to come here?" Overflowing with good-will and curiosity, people approached from all directions. "Did you actually walk three hundred miles? Come, eat with us. Let me help choose your tray." Everyone wanted him to eat at their table, everyone was
Question:
Who is Rourke, and what are his traits in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Rourke is the lieutenant with the nicked jaw who Shano first meets at the air lock. He initially refuses the ticket and reminds Shano that there is a Red signal placed on the Stardust. He tells Shano that the latter is heading towards his funeral but still ends up punching his ticket. Rourke is indirectly mentioned when Shano asks the captain about nicked jaws, a question to which the captain responds that it happens when somebody has cut himself shaving. Rourke is later revealed to be a traitor loyal to the Uranians and attempts to sabotage the ship so that the Uranian fleet can force the Stardust to surrender. He is a manipulative individual, capable of convincing most crew members that he is innocent and means no harm. He also pretends to act surprised that Shano is on board, knowing that he will betray them to the Uranians. Rourke is also a very sneaky person. When the ship turns off all mechanics to avoid detection, he uses the opportunity to sneak into the engine room and mess up the ship’s controls. He can remain mostly undetected, only seen by Shano as he hurries into the room. ",
"Rourke is a lieutenant on the ship who has a nick on his jaw. This is believed to be a feature of those who sell out to Uranus. Rourke is a traitor, he planted an electronic signal box to give away the ship's position and provoke the Uranian attack.He didn't want Shano to get on board and warned him. Rourke is a chunky man with a blaster. He is young, strong and angry at Shano for getting involved. Rourke dies as a consequence of a fight with Shano who considers him a traitor. ",
"Rourke is the lieutenant of the ship, who is a nick-jawed Earthman. Rourke first refuses the ticket, stating that it is signal red. After having faint memories within his mind, he takes Shano’s ticket mentioning that it is his funeral. He is staring out to the viewport when Shano spots him later, Shano thinks that he is just idling. Later, he is suspiciously using the Engine Room emergency exit when Shano spots him again. He is chunky and holsters a flat blaster. He has weaker hands than Shano. And is killed by Shano. ",
"Rourke is the lieutenant of the starship ``Stardust\" who sells out the ship to the Uranians. He is clearly a very crooked character from this one act alone, taking personal gain over the lives of his crew. He is described as \"sullen\" and \"chunky\". His one redeeming quality that could be found would be in when he tried to convince Shano not to board that ship, thus he would have saved his life. He calls Shano an old man, clearly giving off a rude and unpleasant demeanor. He is a shifty, complicated character, because while he sold the ship out to the Uranians, and is not very polite, he did look out for Shano. \n"
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The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
she guiltily told herself, and it was his tremendous vitality.... It was like meeting a movie hero in the flesh, or a hero out of the pages of a book—Deer-slayer, John Clayton, Lord Greystoke. She waited in the doorway to the laboratory and made no move to join them, merely acknowledged the two with a nod and a smile and a casual lift of the hand. They nodded and smiled back. "Hello, June," said Pat and continued telling his tale, but as they passed he lightly touched her arm. "Oh, pioneer!" she said mockingly and softly to his passing profile,
rapidly repaired the damage he'd done. As he watched them, Jon was still curious, but he was getting mad underneath at the cold egoism of the Steel-Blues. By the shimmering clouds of Earth, by her green fields, and dark forests, he'd stay alive to warn the SP ship. Yes, he'd stay alive till then. And send the story of the Steel-Blues' corrosive acid to it. Then hundreds of Earth's ships could equip themselves with spray guns and squirt citric acid and watch the Steel-Blues fade away. It sounded almost silly to Jon Karyl. The fruit acid of Earth to repel
of fear. "Adapted us to Minos. He took human cells—" She listened intently, trying to find a reason for fear in the explanation. It would have taken many human generations to adapt to Minos by ordinary evolution, and that only at a heavy toll of death and hunger which evolution exacts. There was a shorter way: Human cells have the ability to return to their primeval condition of independence, hunting, eating and reproducing alone. Alexander P. Mead took human cells and made them into phagocytes. He put them through the hard savage school of evolution—a thousand generations of multiplication, hardship
ship people. It was Pat Mead. He stood in the doorway, alertly scanning the dining room. Sheer vitality made him seem even larger than he was. Sighting June, he smiled and began to thread toward their table. "Look!" said someone. "There's the colonist!" Shelia, a pretty, jeweled woman, followed and caught his arm. "Did you really swim across a river to come here?" Overflowing with good-will and curiosity, people approached from all directions. "Did you actually walk three hundred miles? Come, eat with us. Let me help choose your tray." Everyone wanted him to eat at their table, everyone was
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Describe the setting of the story.
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Signal Red by Henry Guth.
Relevant chunks:
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
the uneven terrain. "Oh, the bag!" she gasped. "I've dropped it." He chuckled again. "Have got. You scare, I catch." She didn't see the ship because of the wind in her eyes, but without warning she plummeted down and her feet jarred on the lip of the lock. "Inside. No noise, no light. Easy." But in spite of his warning she tripped in the darkness. He helped her from the floor and guided her to the hammocks. "Judith?" she asked. "Here. Beside you, trussed up so tight I can hardly breathe." "No talk!" Rat insisted. "Much hush-hush needed. Other girl
dumbly. "Would you prefer to use your—skiff? It is quite a long way from here." It was indeed a long way, even by skiff. Some of the Aliencon crew went along with them. And near the edge of the twilight zone, on the other side of the world, they saw the Factory outlined in the dim light of dusk. A huge, fantastic block, wrought of gray and cloudy metal, lay in a valley between two worn mountains. Steffens went down low, circling in the skiff, stared in awe at the size of the building. Robots moved outside the thing, little
An elaborate description of the boy in great detail followed, ending with blood type, agglutinating characteristic, and gene-pattern, codified. Walton skipped impatiently through that and came to the notification typed in curt, impersonal green capital letters at the bottom of the card: EXAMINED AT N Y EUTH CLINIC 10 JUNE 2332 EUTHANASIA RECOMMENDED He glanced at his watch: the time was 1026. The boy was probably still somewhere in the clinic lab, waiting for the figurative axe to descend. Walton had set up the schedule himself: the gas chamber delivered Happysleep each day at 1100 and 1500. He had about
Question:
Describe the setting of the story.
Answer:
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[
"The very first setting of the story is the Q City Spaceport. Many space liners come in and out, making the space very busy. The spaceport also features freighter catapults, long runaways, cradles, and hangars. Inside, there are also ticket scanners and turnstiles that the passengers go through before boarding the ship.\n\nThe second and primary setting is the Stardust space liner. The space liner has an air lock that closes when the ship begins to fly. There is a control room with buttons and seats for the pilot to sit in as well. Although Shano is the only passenger on board, there are many cabins for the passengers to use. The cabin that Shano stays in also has a bunk to sleep on. Other basic parts include numerous steel decks and companionways. Later, the ship is revealed to have an engine room too, where the most crucial mechanical parts of the ship are. These parts are all advanced technology, including a new cosmic drive, selector valves (Carrsteel rods), and tube chambers to keep the filaments operating. These parts are essential to operate the jets of the liner and keep them running smoothly. ",
"The story begins in the Q City Spaceport. A ship called Stardust lands to set off to Earth. Red signal is on. One old man gets on the ship and the crew is in. On board there is a control room from where one can descend to the next deck with a viewpoint. Then everything is turned off and the whole ship is dark and silent. Shano's cabin is dark and cold. Outside men are hurrying in all directions. Everyone follows the orders, there is an atmosphere of tension. Engine room is the most important place and the selector there is broken, the room is full of toxic gas. There is a massive machinery in the emergency room and a shattered cylinder all in gas with Shano making it work.",
"The story sets in the Q City Spaceport, where the lights flicked and probed the sky. The spaceport appears to be infra red as the ship sank into the light. The speaker in the spaceport makes the announcement stating that the signal has now turned red. Afterward, Shano still decides to aboard the ship, by going through a turnstile connected to a gangway. The ship has a control room which has a panel of studs and a leather seat; there is also a companionway leading to the next deck. In Shano’s cabin, there is a bunk bed; when the ship’s machinery stopped, the room feels cold and dark. From his cabin, there is a passageway leading toward the Engine Room; an emergency exit door connects the Engine Room to the passageway. The passageway also leads to a deck. Above the room is where the captain and the crew were standing. And in the engine room is a smashed selector chamber, which has broken valve rods. ",
"The story is mostly set on the spaceship \"Stardust\". When the story begins, Shano is standing in the dead of night on Mercury, before he goes to the gate to wait for the ship. He quickly boards the vessel. There is an airlock going onto the ship, with two more doors after it. There is a control room where the captain sits in a bucket seat. In Shano's cabin there is a bunk, with a \"riveted studded bulkhead\". The cabin was dark and cold. There is an engine room. At the end of the passageway is a group of pipes in the corner. \n"
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The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
the uneven terrain. "Oh, the bag!" she gasped. "I've dropped it." He chuckled again. "Have got. You scare, I catch." She didn't see the ship because of the wind in her eyes, but without warning she plummeted down and her feet jarred on the lip of the lock. "Inside. No noise, no light. Easy." But in spite of his warning she tripped in the darkness. He helped her from the floor and guided her to the hammocks. "Judith?" she asked. "Here. Beside you, trussed up so tight I can hardly breathe." "No talk!" Rat insisted. "Much hush-hush needed. Other girl
dumbly. "Would you prefer to use your—skiff? It is quite a long way from here." It was indeed a long way, even by skiff. Some of the Aliencon crew went along with them. And near the edge of the twilight zone, on the other side of the world, they saw the Factory outlined in the dim light of dusk. A huge, fantastic block, wrought of gray and cloudy metal, lay in a valley between two worn mountains. Steffens went down low, circling in the skiff, stared in awe at the size of the building. Robots moved outside the thing, little
An elaborate description of the boy in great detail followed, ending with blood type, agglutinating characteristic, and gene-pattern, codified. Walton skipped impatiently through that and came to the notification typed in curt, impersonal green capital letters at the bottom of the card: EXAMINED AT N Y EUTH CLINIC 10 JUNE 2332 EUTHANASIA RECOMMENDED He glanced at his watch: the time was 1026. The boy was probably still somewhere in the clinic lab, waiting for the figurative axe to descend. Walton had set up the schedule himself: the gas chamber delivered Happysleep each day at 1100 and 1500. He had about
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Signal Red by Henry Guth.
Relevant chunks:
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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"Shano is a sickly old man in line to board the space liner Stardust to go home. There is a red signal announcement for the liner, and guests are given an option to receive a refund. Many guests leave after hearing the danger signal, but Shano sticks his ticket into the scanner and moves to get on the liner. Shano chooses to step in anyways despite the dangers, and the Stardust takes off into space again. Captain Menthlo informs him of the Uranian enemy fleets and the high possibility of running into danger with one of them. When the captain realizes Shano's role as a laborer, he makes him sign a waiver because of the possible danger his life will be when they shut off the ship and mechanical device to avoid the enemies. Once he exits to the next deck, he sees the same lieutenant from earlier speak to him again. The lieutenant's name is Rourke, and he asks why Shano is so anxious to board the ship. Later, as Shano smokes in his cabin, he tries to remember the specific saying for people with nicked jaws. Later, the ship announces that it will now maintain dead silence mode to avoid the Uranian fleets. Shano leaves his room to follow one of the young ensign, who walks by with a blaster. He then realizes that he cannot go back to his room. However, he sees an indistinguishable figure enter the engine room and notices a grey box with switches. Not soon after, the ship enters an offensive attack mode because the Uranian fleets have noticed them. Shano suddenly remembers the rumors to watch out for a man with a nicked jaw because he sells out information to Uranus. He knows that nobody will believe him about a traitor on the ship, so he faces Rourke himself. Shano digs his cigarette into the other man's body and clings to his body. He then twists Rourke's neck with his hands and kills the traitor. The frantic yelling of the other members catches his attention again, and the Stardust informs everybody on board that the ship is midway to Venus. However, there is toxic gas in the engine room now, and nobody on board can withstand the fumes to fix the engines. Although Shano continues to smoke, he does go into the engine room through the emergency exit to fix the space liner. The other crew on the ship are confused by how the liner continues to fly towards Venus. They realize that Shano is working the valve rods in the engine room. Shano thinks about how the Uranian fleet will come into the area and expect to find the Starliner but only find nothing. The fact that this escape is because of him makes him laugh and cough more. ",
"Shano awaits with confusing feelings for a spaceship to land in the spaceport and to take him home. Red signal is announced - the travel is dangerous and at one's own risk. The line dissolves and people rush for refunds, Shano decides to travel home anyway. On board the captain explains that a Uranian fleet is on their way and guesses Shano is from Pluto. Soon, there is an order to keep silent on the ship. Alarmed Shano exits the cabin and sneaks around the ship, then there is a short silence followed by emergency. Short orders and a state of anxiety last and then a sudden relief comes - the fight is over. Shano sees Rourke exiting the emergency room and remembers a nick on the jaw to be a sight of trade with Uranus. He starts a fight and chokes the traitor. The selector is gone, there is gas in the engine room and no one can enter to fix the selector. Shano decides to go in as his lungs are damaged by gas already and he will be able to last longer. He works in the engine room and gets the ship going, hoping to reach Earth and die then proving himself useful. ",
"The main character, Shano, is currently on Q City Spaceport, waiting to board his spaceship that would take him home to die. Shano has gum-clogged lungs, and it was quite an advantage to him when working inside the mines. However, before he could board the ship, an announcement is made about the signal turning red, signifying that there is danger out there, and passengers could travel at their own risk. Shano, desired to go home, decides to take this risk. \n\nHe is the only passenger aboard along with the crew members. The captain of the ship, Menthlo, told him that there is a Uranian fleet on their way. He warns Shano that they will turn the ship off later to avoid detection, and tells him to stay in his cabin. After he sees the kicked jaw of Rourke, the lieutenant of the ship, he heads towards his cabin, where he lays and thinks about the rumors he has heard about nicked jaws. Then captain’s voice comes through the speaker, telling everyone to shut down all machineries and maintain dead silence because the Uranians are listening for mechanical and electronic disturbance. Feeling anxious in his cabin, Shano follows a young man down to the Engine Room. Pausing after seeing a specious figure going into the room, he sees a gray box. Even though everything becomes silent, they are detected by the Uranians. The battle begins. He once again notices the gray box and that the needle inside did not stop, thus he assumes that someone planted it there to make sure the Uranians discover them – a man sold them out. He immediately assumes that it is the nicked jaw man, he is up to something. Then, after spotting the nicked jaw man suspiciously leaving the emergency door, Rourke, Shano digs the cigarette into his face, and grasps his neck until he stops breathing and drops dead. Then he learns from the captain that a selector has been smashed, and in order to fix it, one has to enter the Engine Room which is filled with toxia gas. He knows that his gum-clogged lungs is able to slow down he consumption of the toxia gas in comparison to other people who breaths the gas. Thus, he enters the Engine Room, and starts to work on the selector. Leaving the captain and the crew in shock, they are finally on their way again. ",
"Shano is a retired labourer on Mercury, getting ready to make the journey Home to Earth. As he gets to the spaceport, all the passengers of the spaceship \"Stardust\" are informed that there is a \"red signal\" and passengers are not advised to fly. Shano is old and tired, and just wants to get home so he can die, so he decides to board regardless. He boards the ship with a lieutenant with the notch on his jaw named Rourke, onboard he meets the captain, who advises him to stay in his cabin. The captain informs him that there is a hostile Uranian fleet waiting for them on their path, and they will have to turn all power off during the journey. Shano is intrigued by Rourke and the notch on his jaw, thinking it reminded him of something he had heard once. Shano's lungs are very weak from working on the pluto for so long. Shano goes to his cabin, and the ship goes dark. He opens his doors and walks down the corridor. He sees a figure disappear into the engine room. Suddenly, the captain's voice rings through the intercom. The ship has been spotted by the Uranians, a battle ensues. The crew of the Stardust win this round. Shano notices an electric signal box, which tells of the ships position. He realises something. He remembers what he had heard about the man with the notch on his jaw sold the crew out to Uranus. It was Rourke. Rourke arrives, and Shano attacks him, swiftly killing him. The captain's voice flashes once again that there is an emergency in the engine room. The ship has been hit and everything is dead. Someone has broken through the engine room and it has filled with toxic gas. More Uranian ships are coming, and there's no way to repair the tear in the engine room without being poisoned by the gas. They are stranded. Shano knows that unlike the other men onboard, he can withstand the effects of the gas for a dozen hours, whereas the rest would be dead in a minute. He decides to repair the ship and goes to work in the engine room. He may not die on Earth, but he will save everyone else on board, who will now make it to Venus because of him. "
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"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
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What is the setting of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The First Man in Space by Heather Feldman.
Relevant chunks:
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
the people there know nothing of a Lincoln or that war." Jeff looked blank. "What are they doing then?" The little man spread his hands. "What are the people doing now at Sixth and Main? Certainly not the same things they were doing the day of the fire. We're talking about a dimension, not an event. Don't you grasp the difference between the two?" "Nope. To me, 1865 means the end of the Civil War. How else can you speak of a point in time except by the events that happened then?" "Well, if you go to a place in
Question:
What is the setting of the story?
Answer:
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[
"The night before the flight Marsh is in his father's temporary apartment with the view of distant Skyharbor. Next morning he leaves the house in his dad's car and gets to the airport. There he visits the doctors and goes to take a nap. Then he enters a room where he says goodbye to his friends. Then he goes to put on all the devices and takes an elevator to the platform. From there he enters the cabin of his spaceship and sets off to space. He moves through the Hemisphere to the Earth orbit. There he stops and exits, finding himself in space. He looks at the globe from there. Marsh heads back then, making circles around the United States and gets back to Sky Harbor. There he exits the ship and goes out.\n",
"The beginning of the story is set at his father’s temporary apartment. He can see the Skyharbor from his bedroom window. There is also a room next door for his parents. The apartment also has a kitchen, where his father reads the morning paper and his mother grills eggs in the skillet. \n\nWhen they drive to the airport, some guards surround the premises. Skyharbor is the biggest rocket experimental center in the United States, and there are many amenities dedicated to the preparation of space travel. There is a building for exhaustive checks and briefings, and there is a private room with a cot for General Forsythe. There is also an outside office connecting to the room. Apart from the center itself, a launch site is located further out in the field. Giant searchlights are set up to direct attention to the rocket. There is also a high wire fence that surrounds the launching ramp and blockhouses. The colonel and Marsh go through an open-cage elevator that takes them to a platform on one of the upper stages. \n\nThe rocket has a small compartment for him to sit in, with a contour chair, straps, wires, and cables connecting to a complete circuit. There is also a double hatch and a radio to ensure that Marsh can remain in communication with the authorities on Earth. Once Marsh is in space, he sees a panorama of Earth below him with patches of clouds, a gray atmosphere, and pinpoint lights of night cities. He can also see the stars, the Milky Way, and even Mars.",
"\nThe setting changes as the story progresses. The story begins in Marsh's home, in his bedroom. He then moves into the kitchen. Marsh and his father drive to the small airport known as skyharbour, where the rocket waits. In the airport there are various stations where Marsh is examined. In the general's office at the station is a cot. Marsh and the Colonel then move to the blockhouse. From there, they go into a mesh elevator that takes them to the top of the rocket. The rocket is broken into three parts: Tom, Dick and Harry. The first two break off at different points in Marsh's journey, to allow for maximum propulsion. The cabin that Marsh sits in on his journey is small and cramped. There is a comfy lounging chair which he sits at, and a radio system which allows him to communicate with mission control. Below the rocket, one half of the Earth can be seen in darkness. Marsh notices different American cities and mountain ranges. The rocket then moves to the other side of the planet, where it is daytime. He sees Europe and Asia. On his final descent, Marsh notices different parts of California: the grand canyon, the mountains in san francisco and deserts. He finally touches down in a vast desert in Arizona. ",
"The story takes place on Earth, and it is their first trip to the space. It starts in Marsh’s room where there is a window and he can see his father’s temporary apartment as well as the Skyharbor. Then later at Skyharbor, he was first checked with a doctor and then went to outside of the office which has an adjoining room. There is a lift next to the platform of the surrounding of the rocket. The rocket has a small compartment in Harry; Dick and Tom are two parts of the rocket that will fall. There is a soft contour chair and straps to be fastened. The Mach shows the speed of the rocket, and the speedometer shows the force pressing on him, as well as an atmospheric heat friction gauge; there is also a temperature gauge on the rocket, and a reflecting prism to see the outside. The rocket has a cramped chamber which can lead him to the outside of the rocket. "
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aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
the people there know nothing of a Lincoln or that war." Jeff looked blank. "What are they doing then?" The little man spread his hands. "What are the people doing now at Sixth and Main? Certainly not the same things they were doing the day of the fire. We're talking about a dimension, not an event. Don't you grasp the difference between the two?" "Nope. To me, 1865 means the end of the Civil War. How else can you speak of a point in time except by the events that happened then?" "Well, if you go to a place in
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The First Man in Space by Heather Feldman.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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"Cadet Marshall Farnsworth wakes up at night, frightened by the sound of rockets. He looks in the window and thinks about his upcoming trip to space, as a first man, reflecting upon the history of mankind and space interaction. The next morning he has a short but difficult talk with his anxious parents. Marsh's dad takes him to the Skyharbor, the young man feels uneasy. Then he goes through a check up at psychiatrist's and space surgeon's, revises the route, and takes a nap. Then his Colonel gives him a brief speech, and his cadet friends wish him luck. Thousands of spectators and reporters try to see Marsh on his way to the rocket. Various gadgets are put on Marsh, he rises to the platform, says warm goodbye to the Colonel, and puts the helmet on. Inside the ship Marsh is fastened and final tests take place before he is left alone with his nerves. The last five minutes are long, Marsh thinks about his planet and parents, and then the ship sets off. Minutes seem an eternity, the first phase is behind, and upon reaching the peak velocity the speed starts to drop back. The free-flight orbit is reached and Marsh hears General Forsythe's earthly and calming voice. All the indicators are good and Marsh gets excited to be the first one to leave the rocket and look at the globe from space. He takes all the precautions and the first glance \"downward\" makes him feel like the king of the universe. Suddenly, he feels like he is falling and makes a forbidden movement, which leads to him bouncing from and back to the rocket a couple times, when he has to try hard to stop. When he calms down after the fright, he starts describing what he sees. General orders Marsh to go back and he returns to his cabin. The hardest part begins, as the speed of the ship is high and needs to be reduced. When Marsh succeeds in doing so, the ship heads back to Earth. Marsh has to make a couple spirals and near the airport the braking fuel is gone. Eventually, he manages to exit and breathe the air of Earth and is attacked by the reporters, until he is left with only three men. \n",
"Cadet Marshall Farnsworth is chosen out of two hundred cadets to make man's first trip into space. He is considered one of the most stable, but he is still nervous after waking up from a nightmare. Marsh tries to sleep again, but he is unable to because of the anxious footsteps of his mother and father. He finally falls asleep until the alarm goes off in the morning and prepares himself for the big day. Marsh's parents pretend to be happy the next day, but he knows that they do not want him to go. They try to convince themselves that he will be the Farnsworth family celebrity and completely safe in the rocket. When his father drops him off, they share a brief goodbye, and he begins to go through his pre-flight examinations. Further instructions regarding Marsh's take-off time and position are given to him. He manages to sleep for a few more hours before he talks to Colonel Tregasker. The Colonel wishes him luck and brings in ten more cadets who would be Marsh's replacement should he fail the trip. He then escorts Mash to the ship once the speaker announces that there are less than thirty minutes. There are crowds of photographers and newspapermen in the area, looking for a chance to interview Marsh. However, the Colonel leads him to a blockhouse where he puts on his space gear. He puts on a multitude of gadgets, and the two of them get into the cage that takes them to the platform of the third stage. Marsh begins to feel fear, even though there are workmen and engineers preparing the compartment because he also thinks that this may be his death chamber. He says his goodbye to the Colonel, and a man hands him his helmet. He waits inside the compartment, and the rocket launches soon after. The rocket then fires, and Marsh begins to see the mach numbers rise. After seeing the other parts rise, the voice of General Forsythe speaks to him and tells him that everything is going fine so far. When Marsh gets the O.K. signal, he exits the rocket and begins eagerly describing what he sees in space, such as the rotating Earth and the Milky Way. Marsh no longer feels any fear anymore as he observes space. The General then tells him to go back to avoid further danger, and he prepares himself to return to Earth's atmosphere. He comes back safely, sees many familiar sights along the way, and prepares to land the valuable ship. The General reassures him, and he safely returns to the ground again after gliding. Many reporters come to greet him, but the police safely escort him. Only three men are allowed to follow through the cordon.",
"Cadet Marshall Farnsworth is to be the first man to ever go into space. He wakes up the morning of the day he is meant to take off, and has breakfast with his parents. His Dad drives him to the airport \"Skyharbour\" where the rocket is waiting to launch. Marsh goes through various checks with doctors to make sure he is in shape for flying. Blast off is set for 22:30. As the day goes on he becomes more calm, and goes for a nap in the general's office. He is awoken and goes to met with his CO, Colonel Tregasker. They talk for a while and then are met by Marshall's comrades, who wish him luck. The Colonel and Marshall make their way to the blockhouse, where Marshall changes into his space suit. He is plastered with different wires to convey information back to the station about his state. They move to the elevator that takes them to the door hatch of the rocket. They say their goodbyes and Marsh steps into the compartment. Some final tests are done and then the countdown begins. The rocket blasts off, Marsh being thrown back in his seat in agony. The first part of the rocket breaks off, then the second, until he is left with just his compartment outside of the atmosphere, just as planned. When Marsh gets into a steady orbit, he exits the cabin, attached to the ship by his tether. He talks to the general about what he can see of Earth. He then looks under his feet and gets the sense of falling and becomes panicked, pushing himself to the end of his tether, and then knocking against the ship, back and forth. He eventually regains himself and re-enters the cabin. After that he starts his initial descent, swerving in and out of the atmosphere to avoid burning up on re-entry. Slowly, he makes it down to the surface, using his training. He makes it back in one piece, and is greeted by crowds of people. ",
"The Air Force is getting ready for a rocket blast off the next day. And the rocket is scheduled to blast off at 10:30 PM in the evening. It will go into the orbit around Earth, and once it is stable cadet Marshall Farnsworth, the trained astronaut, will go take a trip to the outside of the rocket, in space, then it would return, carrying Marsh back to Earth. The rocket consists of three parts, where two of them will fall off after the fuel are used and before entering into the orbit. \n\nThe story starts with Marsh having a bad dream about not able to make it to space and back. Apparently, he is not the only one worried, so are his parents. The next morning, his parents tries to act as if they are glad for him, but later his mom was not able to hold it anymore, luckily Dad is able to stop her so that the morning will not be filled with sadness. After Dad drives Marsh to Skyharbor, where the rocket will be blasting, they quickly said goodbye to each other, and Marsh goes to get a physical examination and a briefing. After a quick nap, he is woken up by the colonel and greets his classmates whom he went through the trainings with. \n\nWhen it was thirty minutes until the blast off, the colonel escorts Marsh to the ship to have his gears put on except his helmet. Then, he takes the lift that gets him to the platform surrounding the rocket, where he puts on his helmet and steps into the ship to make sure everything works fine. The countdown goes to zero and the rocket rises into the sky. \n\nAs he keeps on rising, the two parts of the rocket drop as they are supposed to. Then he successfully goes into the orbit as predicted. After a few minutes, he gets the order to leave the rocket. Where he sees the stunning view of Earth from space. Despite a small accident with no injuries, his trip outside the rocket goes well. Then he is ready to get back to Earth. He uses his skills and talents, after a long time, he finally lands safely. After a few seconds of aloneness, men come running and congratulating him. "
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
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How is the theme of responsibility explored in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The First Man in Space by Heather Feldman.
Relevant chunks:
Appointment in Tomorrow BY FRITZ LEIBER Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction July 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Is it possible to have a world without moral values? Or does lack of morality become a moral value, also? The first angry rays of the sun—which, startlingly enough, still rose in the east at 24 hour intervals—pierced the lacy tops of Atlantic combers and touched thousands of sleeping Americans with unconscious fear, because of their unpleasant similarity to the rays from
bound to develop differently." "Is environment so important? Newman tells about a pair of identical twins separated from birth, unaware of each other's existence. They met by accident when they were twenty-one. Each was a telephone repairman. Each had a wife the same age. Each had a baby son. And each had a fox terrier called 'Trixie.' That's without trying to make environments similar. But suppose you did try. Suppose you saw to it that each of them had exactly the same experiences at the same times...." For a moment it seemed to Jack that the room was dimming and
Personnel Manager said. He half-turned and pointed up at the Earth, hanging just beyond the wall of the crater in which they were suddenly standing. "Earth," the Personnel Manager said. Somehow, Ish was not astonished. He looked up at the Earth, touched by cloud and sunlight, marked with ocean and continent, crowned with ice. The unblinking stars filled the night. He looked around him. The Moon was silent—quiet, patient, waiting. Somewhere, a metal glint against the planet above, if it were only large enough to be seen, was the Station, and the ship for which the Moon had waited. Ish
even now. Damn it, he'd been green. But he'd been only nineteen when his father died—of a hernia, of a crazy fool thing like a hernia that killed him just because he'd worked too long on a heavy planet—and in those days the anti-war conditioning out on the Rim was not very strong. They talked a lot about guardians of the frontier, and they got him and some other kids and a broken-down doctor. And ... now he was a captain. He bent his back savagely, digging at the ground. You wait and you wait and the edge goes off.
the days he had, after the trip, just sitting at an observatory port, cursing the traitor stars with his dead and purposeless eyes. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: Obvious typographical errors have been corrected without note. This etext was produced from Dynamic Science Fiction, January, 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
Question:
How is the theme of responsibility explored in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Being the first man to go to space is a task of extreme responsibility. For years, the flight was worked through to make it as safe and well-organized as possible. Due to the need to choose only one man, long training and checkouts took place, and Marsh was decided to be the best. His success is the reason his friends are not able to go and their years of training were in vain. The generals and other higher standing participants trained and chose Marsh, so he has to meet their expectations. The whole globe is watching him with interest and attention, which is an additional pressure. He has to complete the mission successfully, because he was chosen and he can’t fail, he needs to be brave, calm and concentrated. Moreover, he is responsible before his parents to come back, not to make them lose their only son. Detailed instructions were given to him and failing to follow them means proving not good enough. This flight was prepared for too long, and if he fails, he moves the exploration years back. Understanding all of that, Marsh tries to calm him down every time and reminds himself of what has to be done. He does everything with caution, and when he loses control in space, he rapidly recovers and reminds himself to be careful. Under the burden of this responsibility, Marsh doesn’t let himself to get nervous. \n",
"The theme of responsibility is explored through the story via Marsh’s own experience in space. Although he undergoes training, Marsh is still given the responsibility of being the person who makes man’s first journey into space. He is responsible when piloting the rocket, too, and can execute all of the instructions that the general gives him. Marsh can safely disconnect the cables and prevent the ship’s delicate instruments from becoming damaged when he goes out to observe. Even during the trickiest part of the operation, Marsh can manually pilot the ship back to Earth. He demonstrates excellent responsibility here, as he manages to safely land and successfully fulfills the mission. ",
"The theme of responsibility features heavily in this story. Marsh feels the responsibility of the world to succeed in this flight. He doubts whether he was the right man for the job. He feels the responsibility to have the mission be a success for not only his team, but also himself, and his own life. The weight of the world is on his shoulders, and the future of space travel depends on him. \nMom and Dad feel the responsibility to keep their child safe. They are angered by the fact that he was chosen, and wish the space program had picked a grown man. \nThe entire team at the Skyharbour have the responsibility of keeping Marsh safe. They give him a full medical check, and wire him up to know the status of his vitals. \nThe Colonel has the responsibility of keeping a boy safe that he has known for a very long time. He is his CO, and as such, is the main person responsible for him at the station. \nThe general has the responsibility to make sure everything about the mission goes smoothly. \nThere is definitely a very clear theme of responsibility throughout the story. ",
"We learn that even though Marsh’s Mom and Dad does not want him to go to space, his exploration to the space can bring valuable finding to Earth. Firstly, he was able to spot a meteor that is heading towards Earth. He reports this back. He is also able to bring data back for months of analysis. While his parents hoped he would fail the exams, he passed and becomes the first pilot going into space. It is such an honor for him. Even Marsh himself was thrilled to see Earth from space, especially since he is the first man ever. "
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Appointment in Tomorrow BY FRITZ LEIBER Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction July 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Is it possible to have a world without moral values? Or does lack of morality become a moral value, also? The first angry rays of the sun—which, startlingly enough, still rose in the east at 24 hour intervals—pierced the lacy tops of Atlantic combers and touched thousands of sleeping Americans with unconscious fear, because of their unpleasant similarity to the rays from
bound to develop differently." "Is environment so important? Newman tells about a pair of identical twins separated from birth, unaware of each other's existence. They met by accident when they were twenty-one. Each was a telephone repairman. Each had a wife the same age. Each had a baby son. And each had a fox terrier called 'Trixie.' That's without trying to make environments similar. But suppose you did try. Suppose you saw to it that each of them had exactly the same experiences at the same times...." For a moment it seemed to Jack that the room was dimming and
Personnel Manager said. He half-turned and pointed up at the Earth, hanging just beyond the wall of the crater in which they were suddenly standing. "Earth," the Personnel Manager said. Somehow, Ish was not astonished. He looked up at the Earth, touched by cloud and sunlight, marked with ocean and continent, crowned with ice. The unblinking stars filled the night. He looked around him. The Moon was silent—quiet, patient, waiting. Somewhere, a metal glint against the planet above, if it were only large enough to be seen, was the Station, and the ship for which the Moon had waited. Ish
even now. Damn it, he'd been green. But he'd been only nineteen when his father died—of a hernia, of a crazy fool thing like a hernia that killed him just because he'd worked too long on a heavy planet—and in those days the anti-war conditioning out on the Rim was not very strong. They talked a lot about guardians of the frontier, and they got him and some other kids and a broken-down doctor. And ... now he was a captain. He bent his back savagely, digging at the ground. You wait and you wait and the edge goes off.
the days he had, after the trip, just sitting at an observatory port, cursing the traitor stars with his dead and purposeless eyes. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: Obvious typographical errors have been corrected without note. This etext was produced from Dynamic Science Fiction, January, 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
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What is the impact of the first flight on all the characters in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The First Man in Space by Heather Feldman.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for. It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember
A wayfarer's return from a far country to his wife and family may be a shining experience, a kind of second honeymoon. Or it may be so shadowed by Time's relentless tyranny that the changes which have occurred in his absence can lead only to tragedy and despair. This rarely discerning, warmly human story by a brilliant newcomer to the science fantasy field is told with no pulling of punches, and its adroit unfolding will astound you. the hoofer by ... Walter M. Miller, Jr. A space rover has no business with a family. But what can a man in
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
pushes the frontier outward. I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System. I stood there, watching
Question:
What is the impact of the first flight on all the characters in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Marsh, the only person who is to fly, is excited and scared at the same time. He can not believe he is to be the first to exit in space, but he thinks himself not brave and worthy enough, and is afraid to fail everyone. He feels the burden of responsibility for being chosen, which is increased by his duty before his parents to come back and the attention of the huge amount of spectators. Marsh's parents are extremely anxious. The mom struggles to understand why such a young boy is sent, the dad tries to joke and calm down the mom, but they are both afraid Marsh won't come back. The spectators and journalists are excited and interested. The whole team working on the project is also excited and anxious, they try to support Marsh. The Colonel is worried for Marsh, all of them take caution, check everything, and cheer Marsh up. They work on detecting every data, controlling every detail. The whole planet watches closely, while Marsh is the only one to really feel like the king of the universe. ",
"For Marsh’s parents, the first flight has a negative impact. While they are proud of him, they are scared that he will get injured or even potentially die during the flight. For Colonel Tregasker, the first flight gives him a sense of accomplishment because he is the one who oversaw Marsh’s training. He is very proud of Marsh for how far he has come. For Marsh himself, this first flight is the result of his hard work in training and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He has prepared long for this moment, and the view that he sees from space makes all of it worthwhile.",
"There is a different impact of the first flight on all the characters in the story. For Marsh, the impact is seen the most. He is overcome with a range of emotions, fear, excitement, happiness, sadness at the prospect of never seeing his parents again. This is the chance of a lifetime for him. This is the journey of his career; to be the first ever man in space. \nThe impact on Mom and Dad is one of fear, worry and anger. They question why the program couldn't have gotten an older person to pilot the rocket, with Mom being particularly ticked off by this. It is mentioned that they always appeared to be happy when Marsh passed various exams, but secretly wished that he had failed, so he could escape the danger. \nColonel Tregasker is proud of Marsh. He is very happy with his Cadet and his achievement. It is clear that the colonel cares deeply for Marsh, hugging him, showing his fear and anxiety for what might happen. This is a great moment for him, but also a moment of great worry. \nThere is a great impact on every character in this story, including the general and Marsh's cadet friends. It is the first flight in which a man has ever gone into space, changing space exploration forever. ",
"Marsh’s parents are worried and does not want him to go since he is still very young. The doctor encourages him before his first flight. The other classmates that he trained with was going to be his successor if he has failed the trip today. The Air Force are able to study the data for month, which are brought back by Marth. The people watching was at first worried about the successfulness of the flight, but they and the reporters congratulates him once he lands. "
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
her crew or her skipper. I can give you this much of an answer. I was her skipper. And her crew? They ride high in the sky ... dust by this time. And all because they were men, and men are greedy and hasty and full of an unreasoning, unthinking love for gold. They ride a golden ship that they paid for with all the years of their lives. It's all theirs now. Bought and paid for. It wasn't too long ago that I lifted the Maid off Solis Lacus on that last flight. Not many of you will remember
A wayfarer's return from a far country to his wife and family may be a shining experience, a kind of second honeymoon. Or it may be so shadowed by Time's relentless tyranny that the changes which have occurred in his absence can lead only to tragedy and despair. This rarely discerning, warmly human story by a brilliant newcomer to the science fantasy field is told with no pulling of punches, and its adroit unfolding will astound you. the hoofer by ... Walter M. Miller, Jr. A space rover has no business with a family. But what can a man in
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
pushes the frontier outward. I didn't know, that night as I stood in the valve of the Maid, watching the loading cranes pull away, that I was starting out on my last flight. I don't think any of the others could have guessed, either. It was the sort of night that you only see on Mars. The sort of night that makes a spaceman wonder why in hell he wants to leave the relative security of the Earth-Mars-Venus Triangle to go jetting across the belt into deep space and the drab desolation of the outer System. I stood there, watching
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Who is Martin Kesserich, and what has happened to him in his past?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Yesterday House by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
A grim tale of a future in which everyone is desperate to escape reality, and a hero who wants to have his wine and drink it, too. A BOTTLE OF Old Wine By Richard O. Lewis Illustrated by KELLY FREAS Herbert Hyrel settled himself more comfortably in his easy chair, extended his short legs further toward the fireplace, and let his eyes travel cautiously in the general direction of his wife. She was in her chair as usual, her long legs curled up beneath her, the upper half of her face hidden in the bulk of her personalized, three-dimensional telovis.
schizophrenia is caused by inner conflict—indecision between the older values and our present ones which he hasn't been able to accept. A complete case history would tell why he can't accept our present attitudes. I would say that he has an incipient fear of personal inadequacy, which is why he fears our desire for conquest. He's rationalized, built up a defense which he's structured with his idealism, foundationed with Old Era values. Retreat into the past, an escape from his own present feelings of inadequacy. Also, he escapes into these dream fantasies." "Yes," Terrence said. "But how does that account
half-turn of its body as it reached him. What was it doing? A stinger. Loyce stabbed wildly at it. It retreated, buzzing frantically. Loyce rolled and crawled toward the door. Tommy and Janet stood still as statues, faces blank. Watching without expression. Loyce stabbed again. This time the knife connected. The thing shrieked and faltered. It bounced against the wall and fluttered down. Something lapped through his mind. A wall of force, energy, an alien mind probing into him. He was suddenly paralyzed. The mind entered his own, touched against him briefly, shockingly. An utterly alien presence, settling over him—and
escaped his lungs, his lower jaw sagged inanely, and his head lolled to one side. She stood a moment longer, watching his eyes become glazed and sightless. Then she walked to the telephone. "Police?" she said. "This is Mrs. Herbert Hyrel. Something horrible has happened to my husband. Please come over immediately. Bring a doctor." She hung up, went to her bathroom, stripped off her clothing, and slid carefully out of her telporter suit. This she folded neatly and tucked away into the false back of the medicine cabinet. She found a fresh pair of blue, plastifur pajamas and got
traffic, among the cars. Horns honked angrily at him. He gained the curb and stepped up onto the little square of green. The man had been middle-aged. His clothing was ripped and torn, a gray suit, splashed and caked with dried mud. A stranger. Loyce had never seen him before. Not a local man. His face was partly turned, away, and in the evening wind he spun a little, turning gently, silently. His skin was gouged and cut. Red gashes, deep scratches of congealed blood. A pair of steel-rimmed glasses hung from one ear, dangling foolishly. His eyes bulged. His
Question:
Who is Martin Kesserich, and what has happened to him in his past?
Answer:
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[
"Martin Kesserich is a biologist and professor. He lives in a coastal town in Main with his wife. He has taken in Jack Barry, to live with and study under him. He moved to America long ago from Hungary with his two sisters, Hani and Hilda. In America, he meets Mary Alice Pope, a young beautiful, intelligent girl whom he falls in love with. They plan a life together. He will build a house for them to live in and raise a family in. They will travel the world together, he will teach her Hungarian. They will marry. Soon before the day they planned to be their wedding day, Martin is called away to business. He takes the train home after the journey. On his way back, Mary Alice rides on horseback with his two sisters to greet him at the station. But, as Mary Alice sits on her horse on top of a slope overlooking the train tracks, the horse becomes spooked, and gallops down to the rail. She is thrown onto the railway line. Martin sees this, and immediately throws himself out of the moving train to save her. But it's too late. Before he can reach her, she is crushed by the train. He sits, heartbroken, with her body in his hands. Years later, he marries Mrs Kesserich, whom he doesn't seem to have any affection towards, mainly ignoring each other. Treating each other with coldness and a lack of love. ",
"Martin Kesserich is a renowned biologist and professor. He has done a wide range of research and study on topics such as fertilization, heredity, and growth. Despite his success and achievement, Martin has had a rough past. Arriving to America from Hungary with his sisters, he soon fell in love with Mary Alice Pope. The two were infatuated with each other, despite his sisters, Hani and Hilda, despising Mary. One evening, Mary is killed in a railroad accident, and Martin witnesses the death of his fiancee.",
"Martin Kesserich is a famous biologist, physiologist, and geneticist. Jack stays as a student and researches with him as well. In the past, he had come from Hungary with his two sisters Hilda and Hani. He had an intense love for Alice Mary Pope, while his sisters were greatly devoted to him. He was guided by his love and planned many things for the two of them, including travel plans to Buenos Aires, teaching Mary Hungarian to go to Buda-Pesth, and even when he will occupy a chair at the university. He eventually lost Mary Alice in a railway accident when she lost control of her horse during a ride down to the station. ",
"Martin Kesserich is a great biologist, the greatest in Jack's opinion who is his student. Martin is a geneticist and a scientist in human physiology as well. In his past he came with two older sisters from Hungary to America a long time ago. He fell in a deep and all-consuming kind of love with a young girl called Mary Alice at the age of forty. By then the biologist had only two passions - his study and his love, his sisters were jealous and hated the girl. Martin was planning every day of the future together with Mary, he was building a house and approaching the time of marriage. A terrible accident happened in 1933 when he was returning from a work trip, Mary and the sisters were waiting for his train to arrive and Mary's horse rushed to the railway before the train. Mary died and Martin kneeled down before the shattered body on the track. "
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A grim tale of a future in which everyone is desperate to escape reality, and a hero who wants to have his wine and drink it, too. A BOTTLE OF Old Wine By Richard O. Lewis Illustrated by KELLY FREAS Herbert Hyrel settled himself more comfortably in his easy chair, extended his short legs further toward the fireplace, and let his eyes travel cautiously in the general direction of his wife. She was in her chair as usual, her long legs curled up beneath her, the upper half of her face hidden in the bulk of her personalized, three-dimensional telovis.
schizophrenia is caused by inner conflict—indecision between the older values and our present ones which he hasn't been able to accept. A complete case history would tell why he can't accept our present attitudes. I would say that he has an incipient fear of personal inadequacy, which is why he fears our desire for conquest. He's rationalized, built up a defense which he's structured with his idealism, foundationed with Old Era values. Retreat into the past, an escape from his own present feelings of inadequacy. Also, he escapes into these dream fantasies." "Yes," Terrence said. "But how does that account
half-turn of its body as it reached him. What was it doing? A stinger. Loyce stabbed wildly at it. It retreated, buzzing frantically. Loyce rolled and crawled toward the door. Tommy and Janet stood still as statues, faces blank. Watching without expression. Loyce stabbed again. This time the knife connected. The thing shrieked and faltered. It bounced against the wall and fluttered down. Something lapped through his mind. A wall of force, energy, an alien mind probing into him. He was suddenly paralyzed. The mind entered his own, touched against him briefly, shockingly. An utterly alien presence, settling over him—and
escaped his lungs, his lower jaw sagged inanely, and his head lolled to one side. She stood a moment longer, watching his eyes become glazed and sightless. Then she walked to the telephone. "Police?" she said. "This is Mrs. Herbert Hyrel. Something horrible has happened to my husband. Please come over immediately. Bring a doctor." She hung up, went to her bathroom, stripped off her clothing, and slid carefully out of her telporter suit. This she folded neatly and tucked away into the false back of the medicine cabinet. She found a fresh pair of blue, plastifur pajamas and got
traffic, among the cars. Horns honked angrily at him. He gained the curb and stepped up onto the little square of green. The man had been middle-aged. His clothing was ripped and torn, a gray suit, splashed and caked with dried mud. A stranger. Loyce had never seen him before. Not a local man. His face was partly turned, away, and in the evening wind he spun a little, turning gently, silently. His skin was gouged and cut. Red gashes, deep scratches of congealed blood. A pair of steel-rimmed glasses hung from one ear, dangling foolishly. His eyes bulged. His
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Describe the setting of the story
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Yesterday House by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
started to rise, the wave of blackness warned me, and I restrained my ambition. "I will walk soon." "We will have much to talk about. Your friend has pointed to the stars and told me a strange story of your coming. We have walked around the ship. He has told me how it rides through the sky. I can hardly make myself believe." Tomboldo's eyes cast upward under the strong ridge of forehead where the eyebrows should have been. He was evidently trying to visualize the flight of a space ship. "We will have much to tell each other." "I
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
to kill it. It wouldn't do to go home with a bottle sticking out of his pocket. He stood there in the night wind, sipping at it, and watching the reddish moon come up in the east. The moon looked as phoney as the setting sun. He straightened in sudden determination. It had to be sometime. Get it over with, get it over with now. He opened the fence-gap, slipped through, and closed it firmly behind him. He retrieved his bag, and waded quietly through the tall grass until he reached the hedge which divided an area of sickly peach
men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror. If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
Question:
Describe the setting of the story
Answer:
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[
"One day, Jack Barry goes to explore the little islands off the coast of Maine. He docks his boat on the first island inside the cove, looking back through its high walls at thousands of tiny islands, dotting the blue sea, and the thin line that is Maine in the distance. Another island is revealed. It is connected to the first by a spine of rocks. At the near side of the second island is a short slope, covered in grass and trees. Beyond the trees is a huge chicken wire fence, topped with barbed wire. Beside the fence is an oak tree, with a low hanging branch. Beyond the fence is a quaint little cottage. There is a neatly mowed lawn in front of it, with a gravel driveway reaching out into the distance. There is another house on the summit of the island, a treehouse, and a chug boat moored in the bay. Jack then returns to the stark, square home of the Kesseriches. There is a solemn, cold air to the place, one that is reflected in Mrs Kesserich. The story then flashes back to the setting in which Mary Alice and Martin Kesserich lived. It is a nondescript place, but one that is open enough to ride horses in, hills sloping down onto train tracks. ",
"The beginning of the story takes place on an island far from Wood's Hole off the coast of Maine, with a quiet, narrow cove that opens into a rocky and green shore. There is another island connected to the first by a spine of rocks, and through the trees and past a fence of barbed wire there is a quaint cottage. The cottage is white with a gravel driveway, and it is decorated with dainty vintage furniture. The inside of the cottage is also decorated with old furniture, dark and brassy. The story also takes place at the Kesserich's residence, a large, lavish house.",
"The story is initially set on an island that Jack sails to with his boat. The island has rocky ledges by the water and a little green sloop with more rocks and oaks. As he goes further, he notices another higher island that is joined by a rocky spine. The landward part of the spine houses another cove, and he even sees the spheres of sea urchins. There are also many branches of oak and a barbed mesh fence surrounding a white Cape Cod cottage. The cottage itself has a radio aerial stretched along the length of the roof. There is also a short, square-lined ancient Essex parked near the cottage too. Inside the cottage, there is solid old furniture, a small-windowed room, a fireplace, and brass andirons. When he visits Martin Kesserich’s house, it is white and weathered on the outside, with sharp-paned windows. However, the inside of the house has dark, gleaming furniture, Persian rugs, and bronze vases.",
"The story begins on an island in a narrow quiet cove near the bustling Atlantic with rocks all around and a boat carried away by wind. The place is unusually quiet compared to others on Earth, surrounded with steepness at first, and going downhill further. The island is surrounded by other islands. Further into the trees there is a huge fence with barbed wire and a mown lawn, a cottage and an ancient car are inside. A woman enters the car and drives away. A girl emerges soon with a newspaper, puts it on the table and watches a squirrel on the lawn. After sitting at the table outside with glasses of lemonade, the girl and the stranger enter the house. The room is dark and small-windowed with old furniture and a fireplace. From there, Jack runs through the lawn, jumps over the fence, runs through the oaks and rocky banks towards his boat and sails to the cross waves. From the middle of the waves and the wind the island seems small. The story moves to Kesserich's house which is a simple white cube with a cupola from the outside but luxurious and dark inside. Jack talks to Mrs. Kesserich in the drawing room and then they move to the gloomy cabinet. Next day Jack wakes up in an empty house and he goes to the same island to visit Mary. The setting changes - it is no longer still, conveying the eerie mood. "
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started to rise, the wave of blackness warned me, and I restrained my ambition. "I will walk soon." "We will have much to talk about. Your friend has pointed to the stars and told me a strange story of your coming. We have walked around the ship. He has told me how it rides through the sky. I can hardly make myself believe." Tomboldo's eyes cast upward under the strong ridge of forehead where the eyebrows should have been. He was evidently trying to visualize the flight of a space ship. "We will have much to tell each other." "I
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
to kill it. It wouldn't do to go home with a bottle sticking out of his pocket. He stood there in the night wind, sipping at it, and watching the reddish moon come up in the east. The moon looked as phoney as the setting sun. He straightened in sudden determination. It had to be sometime. Get it over with, get it over with now. He opened the fence-gap, slipped through, and closed it firmly behind him. He retrieved his bag, and waded quietly through the tall grass until he reached the hedge which divided an area of sickly peach
men we were, and we were proud of it. We hung onto what we found because the risks were high and we were entitled to keep what we could out there. But there are strange things in the sky. Things that don't respond to all of our neat little Laws and Theories. There are things that are no part of the world of men, thick with danger—and horror. If you doubt that—and I can see you do—just look at me. I suppose you've never heard of the Martian Maid, and so you don't know the story of what happened to
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Yesterday House by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"Jack Barry is a biology student, who sets sail on his boat \"Annie O\". He has sailed out to the furthest island off the coast of Maine. He gets to the shore and docks his boat. He sets out to explore the island. Once he reaches the summit, he finds that there is another island, connected by a thin line of rocks to the one he is on. He climbs down the slope, onto the rocks and crosses to the other side. He arrives at a gate, which he manages to overcome. Beyond the fence is a cottage, with a lawn. The whole scene is old fashioned and slightly eerie. An elderly woman comes out of the house, gets in an old car and drives away. A pretty girl, dressed like a flapper comes out. Jack walks over to her. She asks if he is the man who sends her little boxes. She tells him she lives here with her aunts. They talk for a while, Jack telling her about his professor \" Martin Kesserich\", whom he's staying with. The girl tells Jack her name is Mary Alice Pope. She says she's never been to the mainland, and that she's never met anyone her own age, let alone a man. She explains to him that every morning she receives a little box with a gift inside, and a note, signed by \"Your Lover\". She tells him she was born in the middle of the first world war, and that the year is 1933. Jack tries to convince her that it is in fact 1951. She doesn't believe him. They hear her aunt's car returning, so Jack leaves, telling her he'll be back tomorrow. He makes his way back to the Annie O. Once at sea, he sees the chug boat of one of Mary Alice's aunts, who points what looks like a rifle at him, before turning away to go back to the island. When Jack returns to his professor's home, he asks Mrs Kesserich about Mary Alice. She informs Jack that Mary Alice was the love of her husband's life, who died in 1933. Martin arrives home, and begins a hypothetical discussion with Jack about the possibility of recreating a human being. If you could take the same DNA as the original, and put the copy in the same circumstances as the one before, they would be the same. He tells Jack that he won't be here the following day. Jack wakes up the next morning and sets off for the little island. He brings with him newspapers from the present day to try and convince Mary Alice the truth, that it is in fact 1951, and not 1933. He tells her that she has been a victim of a conspiracy to make her believe it is a different year. He asks her to come back to the mainland with her. She then tells him that she can't, as the man who sends her the boxes is coming tonight. ",
"Jack Barry is a biology student under Professor Martin Kesserich, spending the summer studying marine biology. Though he is advised not to sail to the farther islands, one day he decides to anyway, taking his sailboat to a quiet cove. As he sets foot on the island and begins to explore, he realizes that there is another island hidden behind it. Awestruck, Jack heads towards the island and comes across a barbed fence, and beyond it, a cottage. He watches as a woman dressed in a long lace dress enters a car in the driveway and drives off. He then sees a girl in a white dress come out of the cottage, holding a newspaper. Jack approaches the girl, startling her, and she asks him whether he is the man who has been sending her boxes. Jack asks the girl questions, revealing that the woman from earlier is the girl's aunt, who brings her newspapers and other things from the mainland while she remains on the island. The girl offers Jack some lemonade, and he introduces himself, and in return the girl gives her name: Mary Alice Pope. Mary reveals that Jack is the first man she has met in real life, and that though she feels loneliness, she is greeted each morning with a small box containing a gift, all addressed from her \"lover\". Upon asking when the last time Mary visited the mainland was, she says that she was born eighteen years ago, in the middle of the World War. Perplexed, Jack notices that the newspaper Mary is holding is dated 1933. He asks her about the old newspaper, but Mary believes the newspaper is recent, that the current date is 1933 and not 1953, the actual date. Inside the cottage, Jack notices an old recording playing. In a terrified panic, Jack hurries back to his ship as Mary's aunt returns, promising to be back soon. As Jack scrambles to his boat and heads back home, he notices another boat overtake him, steered by a woman resembling those back on the island, but the boat turns back around. Back at the Kesserich's place, Jack asks Mrs. Kesserich if she knows of Mary Alice Pope. Mrs. Kesserich explains that Mary Alice Pope was Martin's fiancee, who died in an accident in 1933; Martin was intensely in love with her, but his sisters disliked her, and one night while waiting for Martin to arrive by train, she fell into the tracks and was killed. Suddenly, Martin enters, eager to tell Jack about his new discoveries about recreating individuals; specifically, about how it could be achieved if you replicated environments for both individuals. Jack comes to a realization, and the next morning he hurries over to the island. He brings recent newspapers for Mary, explaining that she is being manipulated to believe that it is 1933 on purpose. Mary is reluctant and frightened, and Jack tells Mary to follow him.",
"Jack Barry sails his boat called the Annie O into a cove. Once he is close enough to the ledge, he scrambles onshore and throws a line around a boulder. He has sailed to the farthest island out from the coast of Maine and decides to look around some more. He enjoys exploring but is surprised to see signs of human life on the island. He sees an older woman come out to drive an ancient Essex. Soon after, a younger girl in a white silk dress emerges too. Jack takes this opportunity to speak to her, and she asks if he is the one sending little boxes. When he says no and explains his reason for being on the island, she says that she and her three aunts live in the area. He tells her that he is a Biology student studying marine ecology under Professor Kesserich, the greatest living biologist. The girl introduces herself as Mary Alice Pope, and they have a conversation about why Mary must be alone all the time. She tells him that she receives boxes from and letters somebody signed ‘Your Lover’ for as long as she can remember. Jack notices that she has a paper from 1933, and she tries to convince him that it is from the day before yesterday. Mary brings him into the house to show him more proof, and he finds it extremely odd. He then leaves the island on his boat once they hear her aunts coming back. Jack then visits Mrs. Kesserich, who informs him that the original Mary Alice Pope was Martin Kesserich’s fiancee and died in an accident in 1933. She explains how his sisters, Hilda and Hani, hated her for stealing Martin away. However, when the three of them went to visit him during his research on growth and fertilization, they could not prevent Mary Alice’s death. Suddenly, Martin Kesserich comes home. Martin and Jack then have a conversation about individuality, to which the professor reveals the possibility of controlling heredity by will. Jack begins to grow concerned, but Kesserich dismisses his thoughts and changes the topic. The next day, Jack buys half a dozen newspapers when he has his clam chowder and goes back to the island to find Mary Alice. She tells him to go away quickly because he is a wicked man, but he shows her the newspapers. Although Mary Alice tries to reason, he tells her to come with him to prove that she is being made to live a lie that has cut her off from the world.\n",
"A man observes a quiet cove and a boat for a while, then he moves into the island he has disembarked on, climbs a fence and finds himself inside a huge cottage garden. He sees a woman driving away in an ancient car and then a girl with a newspaper. The stranger greets her and she is terrified as she has never seen a man or anyone except her aunts before. She takes him for someone who has been sending her boxes with some presents accompanied by a note from 'your lover'. Turns out, the girl lives with two aunts who bring her newspapers, books and movies, while she stays home and never goes to the mainland. The man introduces himself as Jack Barry and tells about his marine ecology research for a great biologist Professor Kesserich. Jack lives with the professor and his wife, who told him not to go to these islands and thus stimulated his curiosity. Mary, the girl, tells about being born eighteen years ago in the middle of World War I and startled when Jack sees a headline about Hitler in her newspaper. The girl claims this newspaper dated the year 1933 is two days old while the man knows it is the year 1953. Jack follows her into the house and hears old news on the radio and an approaching car, Mary asks him to leave. He runs towards his boat and sets sail, far away he sees a motorboat and a woman with a rifle. Back home Mrs. Kesserich tells him Mary Alice Pope was Martin Kesserich's fiance and died in a railway accident in 1933. She also shows a photo of the girl Jack met earlier that day. Martin was deeply in love with Mary and his sisters hated her for that. One day all three of them were waiting for Martin's train on their horses and Mary's rushed before the train. Suddenly, the professor returns home and his wife's story ends. The two men talk about biology and the professor brings up the topic of recreating the same individuals. Next day Jack buys modern newspapers and visits Mary. Jack proves to her that the year is 1953 and begs to come with him to the mainland. The girl insists that she has to wait for the man sending her boxes who is coming that night. Jack realizes with terror the man is the professor. \n"
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
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Why are the newspapers such an important part of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Yesterday House by Fritz Leiber.
Relevant chunks:
had wondered if he would ever inhale again. His aloneness was over then, suddenly and boisterously, as men swarmed over him with congratulations, eager questions, and looks of respect. Reporters’ flash bulbs popped, and he felt like a new Lindbergh as he was pulled down to the ground and mobbed. Finally the police came to his rescue and pushed back the curiosity seekers and newspapermen. Then only three men were allowed through the cordon.
library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications! You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though. Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb. He remembered Kay's
life and rumbled down the street. Loyce relaxed a little. He studied the people around him. Dulled, tired faces. People going home from work. Quite ordinary faces. None of them paid any attention to him. All sat quietly, sunk down in their seats, jiggling with the motion of the bus. The man sitting next to him unfolded a newspaper. He began to read the sports section, his lips moving. An ordinary man. Blue suit. Tie. A businessman, or a salesman. On his way home to his wife and family. Across the aisle a young woman, perhaps twenty. Dark eyes and
I missed—the explanation? I didn't get in on it? Like everybody else?" After a pause the cop with the notebook said: "That's right. You missed the explanation." "Then it's official? The body—it's supposed to be hanging there?" "It's supposed to be hanging there. For everybody to see." Ed Loyce grinned weakly. "Good Lord. I guess I sort of went off the deep end. I thought maybe something had happened. You know, something like the Ku Klux Klan. Some kind of violence. Communists or Fascists taking over." He wiped his face with his breast-pocket handkerchief, his hands shaking. "I'm glad to
of the danger. The two men on the bus. I think they understood. Had escaped, like I did." He clenched his fists. "I killed one of them. I made a mistake. I was afraid to take a chance." The Commissioner nodded. "Yes, they undoubtedly had escaped, as you did. Freak accidents. But the rest of the town was firmly in control." He turned from the window. "Well, Mr. Loyce. You seem to have figured everything out." "Not everything. The hanging man. The dead man hanging from the lamppost. I don't understand that. Why? Why did they deliberately hang him there?"
Question:
Why are the newspapers such an important part of the story?
Answer:
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[
"The newspapers are such an important part of the story because they are an indicator as to the different characters' understanding of the time period. On the island, Mary Alice is surrounded by many items and artefacts to gaslight her into thinking that the year is 1933. These include the old fashioned car and radio, which plays news from the past. The one main item used to convince her are the newspapers. Hani and Hilda, who refer to themselves as her \"aunts\", give her a new newspaper every day with the date on it. It is a way for her to keep track of the passing time, albeit incorrect. When Jack Barry sees these newspapers and exclaims that they are wrong, Mary Alice is understandably shocked, and doesn't believe him. She doesn't know that newspapers aren't supposed to be yellow, because to her, newspapers have always been yellow. They are also very important to her because even though they are false, they are her only connection to what the outside world is like, apart from the radio, film and books. They are the real time news of what is happening in the world. At the end of the story, Jack Barry takes some current newspapers, in the hopes that he can convince her that the ones she possesses are decades old, and that she is, in fact, living in 1951. She doesn't believe him at first, pointing out that the papers he has could be fake, but when he states that only old papers are yellow, it seems that she begins to believe him. ",
"The newspaper that Mary is holding when Jack first meets her is visibly old and yellowed, and dated from 1933. This newspaper is what initially makes Jack realize that something is off about Mary and the island. The newspapers are a critical part of Martin's plan in recreating his fiancee in a new individual. He delivers the old newspapers to make Mary Alice believe that the events are happening in real time. In fact, when Jack tries to explain to Mary Alice that she is being manipulated, she uses the old newspapers as her own proof that she is truly in 1933.",
"Newspapers are an important part of the story because they reveal the lies told to Mary Alice. When she first meets Jack, she shows him the yellowed newspaper and says that it is the morning news from the day before yesterday. When Jack points out that the paper is from many years ago, she refuses to believe him and even implies that he is lying to her. The newspapers also help lead Jack to ask Mrs. Kesserich about Mary Alice Pope and why she believes she is living in 1933. Later, the newspaper from present-day that Jack buys finally convinces Mary Alice that she is living in a simulated lie. Although she is initially suspicious, he does manage to make her see the truth and question why the people around her would lie to her. ",
"For the girl the newspapers are almost the only way to learn something about the world and to divert herself as she is never brought to the mainland. They are also the way Jack learns about her being tricked. He proves his point of it being the year 1953 also by bringing newspapers. Mary's newspapers are yellow which proves their age. The tool for creating the lie and the tool for destroying it is the same in the story. With the help of contemporary newspapers, Jack is able to convince the girl to believe him and to save her from deception. The whole plan of the professor is ruined mainly because of the newspapers. "
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had wondered if he would ever inhale again. His aloneness was over then, suddenly and boisterously, as men swarmed over him with congratulations, eager questions, and looks of respect. Reporters’ flash bulbs popped, and he felt like a new Lindbergh as he was pulled down to the ground and mobbed. Finally the police came to his rescue and pushed back the curiosity seekers and newspapermen. Then only three men were allowed through the cordon.
library aisle and staring at the indecipherable words, was a normal girl like Kay doing in such a childish secret society? From the way she and her correspondents carried on you'd almost think they were Martian girl scouts on an interplanetary camping trip, trying for their merit badges in communications! You could hardly call Kay a girl scout, though. Nevertheless, she was the key figure in the snoll-doper enigma. The fact annoyed him, especially when he considered that a snoll doper , for all he knew, could be anything from a Chinese fortune cooky to an H-bomb. He remembered Kay's
life and rumbled down the street. Loyce relaxed a little. He studied the people around him. Dulled, tired faces. People going home from work. Quite ordinary faces. None of them paid any attention to him. All sat quietly, sunk down in their seats, jiggling with the motion of the bus. The man sitting next to him unfolded a newspaper. He began to read the sports section, his lips moving. An ordinary man. Blue suit. Tie. A businessman, or a salesman. On his way home to his wife and family. Across the aisle a young woman, perhaps twenty. Dark eyes and
I missed—the explanation? I didn't get in on it? Like everybody else?" After a pause the cop with the notebook said: "That's right. You missed the explanation." "Then it's official? The body—it's supposed to be hanging there?" "It's supposed to be hanging there. For everybody to see." Ed Loyce grinned weakly. "Good Lord. I guess I sort of went off the deep end. I thought maybe something had happened. You know, something like the Ku Klux Klan. Some kind of violence. Communists or Fascists taking over." He wiped his face with his breast-pocket handkerchief, his hands shaking. "I'm glad to
of the danger. The two men on the bus. I think they understood. Had escaped, like I did." He clenched his fists. "I killed one of them. I made a mistake. I was afraid to take a chance." The Commissioner nodded. "Yes, they undoubtedly had escaped, as you did. Freak accidents. But the rest of the town was firmly in control." He turned from the window. "Well, Mr. Loyce. You seem to have figured everything out." "Not everything. The hanging man. The dead man hanging from the lamppost. I don't understand that. Why? Why did they deliberately hang him there?"
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Tea Tray in the Sky by Evelyn E. Smith.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"From his shelf Michael watches a juice advertisement. Then a nearby passenger starts a conversation regarding Michael's belonging to a Brotherhood. Michael remembers how the Father Superior proposed the idea for him to live in the outside world to answer the question about reasons for the Brotherhood's resignation from it. The young man makes one mistake after another, violating the laws of the Universe during the short conversation with his respectable companion. The least warns the youth against those mistakes and lets him stick close for a while, then the two listen to the Sirians singing. Suddenly, it turns out that Zosma has joined the United Universe and its rule to always cover the head becomes Universal starting that second. Upon the arrival to Portyork, Michael and his companion cautiously head to eat, and the man keeps enlightening the newcomer. Then they take a ride through the city with Carpenter constantly explaining Michael his new mistakes. During a short following walk, Michael says \"history\" and unintentionally deeply offends a man, who is urged by Carpenter not to report. Then Michael asks for a shower, and they take a taxi to a public lavatory. Advideos keep appearing and annoying the two everywhere. Then Carpenter wants to find a temporary family for Michael to make his stay legal, but the least mentions the desire to create his own permanent family and marry the girl he likes. This statement is the turning point, Carpenter is shocked with the youth's ignorance about marriage being outlawed. Michael in turn is frustrated with the idea of having to share his girl and decides to return to the Brotherhood. Carpenter is even more shocked by the news of both sexes living there together and belonging to one another, so he considers Michael simply unfit for the civilized and comfortable life. Michael, on the contrary, already dreams of coming back home. He takes the same bus and then the same taxi to his Brotherhood. ",
"Michael Frey is a member of one of the Brotherhoods, and he leaves his home to explore the outside world. The stranger he talks to asks him why he would join one, and he explains that his father brought him to the Angeleno Brotherhood when he was an infant. The United Universe lives in peace and never engages in wars with one another because every citizen must adapt to the customs of another one. Michael questions Father Superior about the ways of the Brotherhood before coming, and the Father suggests him coming to experience the life of civilization. He meets Pierce B. Carpenter, who hands him a business card and explains that aphrodisiacs are his line of business. He and Michael begin discussing the rules by the United Universe, and Carpenter warns him of the various rules, such as appearing in public with bare hands and that he must be careful. Michael retrieves a pair of yellow gloves from his pack, but Carpenter tells him that wearing yellow is the color of death on Saturn. He settles for rose-colored gloves instead. Carpenter offers to guide him through his stay in Portyork so that Michael will not run into any problems with the law. A stewardess goes around and announces that everybody must now wear some form of head-wearing because of Zosma’s admittance into the Union. Carpenter tells Michael that the universe is constantly expanding, which means that there must be constant updates. He then takes Michael to a “Feeding Station” for some food and offers to take him to the Old Town after. Michael mentions wanting to go to a hotel, but Carpenter explains he should not say these words because of the laws. The two go to Times Square, where the aliens are currently preparing for Christmas. Carpenter continues his tour to a few more locations, such as the Empire State building and Broadway. After, Michael gets himself washed, and Carpenter tells him that they must register him for a family now. Michael mentions getting married to his girlfriend soon, to which Carpenter shockingly tells him not to use that word because it is banned on Earth. He explains that Michael would have to share his girlfriend if he chooses to bring her here. Michael declares that he wants to go back to the Brotherhood, and Carpenter agrees, telling him that he does not adapt well to civilized behavior. Michael goes back to the ancient taxi again, where the driver is not surprised to see him back. He gives one last insult to civilization, which the taxi driver warns him about, and feels content to go home. ",
"Michael Frey is a member of the Angeleno Brotherhood, a rural city in comparison to largest spaceport in the United Universe, Portyork. The United Universe consists of many different worlds and is expanding at all times. The story begins with Michael on a jet bus heading towards Portyork looking for a job. He imagines bringing his girl over to get married once he settles down.\n\nMichael was so eager to leave the Brotherhood and to go explore the world that after a year of learning the tabus and customs, he boards the bus heading to Portyork. On the jet bus, Michael meets Pierce B. Carpenter, a board-minded, middle-aged man with brown hair and blue eyes. Carpenter works in the aphrodisiacs industry, and his first thought Michael joined the Brotherhood because he was troubled over a female, then Michael reveals that he has been in the Brother since he was an infant. After accused of breaking a series of laws, which includes talking about fatherhood, wondering about turning the advideo off, not covering his hands, being intolerant, and having yellow colored gloves, Carpenter offers to guide Michael around the city so that he can learn about the civilized behaviors.\n\nPrior to landing, the stewardess announces that Zosma is now a part of the Union. Since they have a custom of not showing their head in public, everyone in the United Universe has to cover their head, thus, the passengers all leave the jet bus after wearing some sort of headgear. Then, Michael states loudly that he is hungry and need to find something to eat. He is immediately rebuked by Carpenter. Everyone in the Union is not allowed to speak of eating, or use any other vulgar language in public since it is a custom for the Theemimians. After checking the map of the landing field, Michael is able to get to a “Feeding Station,” where he chewed on pieces of food that were meant to be swallowed. Afterwards, Michael attempts to break more customs when trying to get to the Old Town. Getting off the taxi, Michael finally offends a being who threatens to report him to the police because he has mentioned the word “history,” something that the Meropians lack. Carpenter begs the being and blames himself for not warning Michael. Later, Michael interrupts Carpenter, asking for the lavatory. Thus, they get to the Empire State Building, which has been transformed into a lavatory, since, apparently, it has no other use. \n\nOn their way out, Michael mentions his desire for marriage and family with the girl he got. Carpenter is shocked since there’s no marriage in the Union, and family is never permanent. Thus, Michael is determined to leave. Finally, Michael is back to the Brotherhood. He tells the taxi driver about his dislike for civilization. The driver reminds him that civilization is spreading, even to rural areas. However, Michael is happy that he is heading home. ",
"While on his way to Earth from the \"Brotherhood\" Michael meets a salesman named Mr. Carpenter. Micheal is moving to Earth in search of a new life, after his father passed away. The Brotherhood is a community that focuses on living in the ways of the past, which would be the present now, in this future society. Micheal and Carpenter begin to chat, but Carpenter soon makes Micheal aware of the social intricacies at play in this new Terran society. Earth is part of what's known as the \"United Universe\" which is a leaf of planets that was created over five hundred years ago. Each planet has different rules and customs, and to avoid conflict in this league, each planet must abide by one another's customs to avoid the chance of war breaking out. A person not abiding by those rules would face charges. Carpenter notices that Micheal keeps breaking these societal rules on their journey, and offers to take him under his wing, and show him around Earth, so he can avoid running into trouble. They arrive in Portyork, noticing all the Aliens that depart from the bus. Carpenter takes Michel to show him around, Micheal repeatedly unintentionally breaking rules. Micheal strats to get frustrated with all of these rules, not understanding the reasons behind them. The final straw comes when Micheal mentions to Carpenter that he has a girl back in the brotherhood whom he intends to marry. Carpenter tells him that marriage was outlawed a long time ago. Micheal decides that life in this civilisation is not worth it. He returns to the brotherhood and to his girlfriend. "
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
forty years ago or more. Resembled one? It was one! Unquestionably, though half-invisible and like a piece of glass immersed in water, it was a rocket ship. But the instruments on the control board could not lie. The presence of any material body within a hundred thousand miles would be revealed. But the needle on the gauge did not quiver. Nothing indicated the presence of a ship. But the evidence of his eyes was incontestable. Or was it? Doubt gripped him. Did the loneliness of all these years in space twist his mind till he was imagining the appearance of
"Get somebody—maybe even the President—on all radio and TV networks. Explain frankly about the four-centers and warn against licking any stamps. Then—" He broke off as his phone rang. Answering, he listened for a moment, then hung up and said, "But before the big announcement, get somebody checking on the security clearances at whatever plant it is where they print stamps. This's a big deal. Somebody may've been planted years ago for this operation. It shouldn't be too hard. "But there's no evidence it was a plot yet. Could be pure accident—some chemical in the stickum spoiled. Do they keep
deathly ill, but nobody dying. And doctors can't identify the poison until they have a fatality for an autopsy. People stricken in every part of the country, but the water systems are pure. How does it spread?" "In food?" "How? There must be hundreds of canneries and dairies and packing plants over the country. How could they all goof at the same time—even if it was sabotage?" "On the wind?" "But who could accurately predict every wind over the entire country—even Alaska and Hawaii—without hitting Canada or Mexico? And why wouldn't everybody get it in a given area?" Bettijean's smooth
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What kinds of rules were introduced to the United Universe by different planets and for what reasons?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Tea Tray in the Sky by Evelyn E. Smith.
Relevant chunks:
for breaking the Law of Contact or for dereliction of duty. And there was also the possibility, which abruptly occurred to him, that the robots might well be prepared to blow his ship to hell and gone. He stopped in the center of the deck. A whole new line of thought opened up. If the robots were armed and ready ... could this be an outpost? An outpost! He turned and raced for the bridge. If he went in and landed and was lost, then the League might never know in time. If he went in and stirred up trouble....
Did our friends from the fourth planet do this, or were they the same people as these?" Steffens did not take his eyes from the screen. They were coming around to the daylight side. "We'll go down and look for the answer," he said. "Break out the radiation suits." He paused, thinking. If the ones on the fourth planet were alien to this world, they were from outer space, could not have come from one of the other planets here. They had starships and were warlike. Then, thousands of years ago. He began to realize how important it really was
and then there were more cities—all with the black depression, the circular stamp that blotted away and fused the buildings into nothing. No one on the ship had anything to say. None had ever seen a war, for there had not been war on Earth or near it for more than three hundred years. The ship circled around to the dark side of the planet. When they were down below a mile, the radiation counters began to react. It became apparent, from the dials, that there could be nothing alive. After a while Ball said: "Well, which do you figure?
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
MASTER of Life and Death by ROBERT SILVERBERG ACE BOOKS A Division of A. A. Wyn, Inc. 23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N. Y. MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH Copyright 1957, by A. A. Wyn, Inc. All Rights Reserved For Antigone— Who Thinks We're Property Printed in U.S.A. [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] THE MAN WHO RATIONED BABIES By the 23rd century Earth's population had reached seven billion. Mankind was in danger of perishing for lack of elbow room—unless prompt measures were taken. Roy Walton
Question:
What kinds of rules were introduced to the United Universe by different planets and for what reasons?
Answer:
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[
"The United Universe's laws are a combination of laws of every planet involved. Earth has introduced the tabu regarding offending motherhood as it is sacred. Electra has prohibited appearing in public bare handed, because its people have eight fingers on each hand and feel different from others. Yellow is forbidden to wear as it represents death on Saturn. Zosma has just joined the United Universe and introduced the necessity to cover the heads in public, which is immodest on that planet. Theemimians do not eat in public, and so do all other beings in the United Universe. Fomalhautians do not have feet and, therefore, do not walk. So, it's prohibited to walk more than two hundred yards. Zaniahansn are like bees and go everywhere with their families, therefore, one can not travel alone in the universe. Nekkarians say and imply only what is true. Meropians do not have history and this word is offending for them, and forbidden, therefore. On Talitha marriage is slavery, and so is it on other planets. ",
"There are many rules introduced to the United Universe by different planets that affect what citizens can wear, say, or even do with their lives. One of the rules introduced by the United Universe is an Earth tabu. The story says that Motherhood is sacred on Earth and the entire universe, so talking about anything that contradicts it is the same as violating the law. Another rule is that one must not violate the spirit of free enterprise and cause ego injury. This rule allows advertisers to continue creating their constant advideos. In terms of what one can wear, it is illegal on Electra to appear in public with bare hands and immodest to appear without a head covering on Zosma. Even talking about eating is considered vulgar to Theemimian, while the disgusting aroma of the Algedian cab is a scent that must be enjoyed. Meropians are also extremely sensitive to word history, making it illegal to say around them. On Earth, it is also considered unthinkable to go anywhere without a family because of the Zaniahans. Despite needing a family, marriage is illegal because it is considered slavery on Talitha. These rules are all introduced and accepted as a means of keeping the universe together. The Wise Ones believe that keeping every custom, rule, and habit the same will foster universal peace. ",
"It is considered a crime to injure another through word or action, thus customs and laws of each planet are considered laws of all other planets. Firstly, courteous is an important rule of the United Universe. Secondly, motherhood is sacred on Earth, thus it was introduced to the United Universe and all planets have to consider it sacred. Moreover, the advideos cannot be turned off since it would hurt the spirit of free enterprise; hands are forbidden to be bare in public since Electrans have eight fingers on each hand and two nails on each finger, which are covered in green scales; and yellow cannot be wore since it is the color of death on Saturn. On the jet bus, they are told that Zosma has been just admitted to the Union and the people there do not appear with bare head in public, thus from now on, everyone has to wear some sort of headgear in public. Furthermore, Theemimians are afraid of vulgar, thus any vulgar words such as eating cannot be stated in public; Fomalhautians do not walk, thus it is forbidden for everyone in the Union to walk more than two hundred yards in one direction. Ego injury is also considered a crime. Surprisingly, the word “hotel” cannot be mentioned since it means a place of dancing girls in the current society; “lodging” is offensive to the Zaniahans since they almost always travel with a family; “married” was outlawed years ago because Talithas consider the exclusive possession of a opposite sex as slavery; “history” pisses the Meropians off since they do not have any history, they went from barbaric to civilized in one generation, and historical buildings such as the Empire State was considered useless. Finally, Times Square is actually a square because the Nekkars do not allow anything that is not true to exist; and it is illegal to interrupt someone when they are speaking. ",
"There were many rules introduced by the united universe for various reasons. It is forbidden to appear in public with your hands held by Electra because they have eight fingers, two of them being very ugly. You aren't allowed to wear yellow on Saturn, as it is the color of death. On Zosma it is illegal to appear with you head bare. On Them It is vulgar to speak about eating in public. The Fomalhaut Incas have made it illegal to walk more than two hundred feet in any direction. Because of the Zaniahan's it is forbidden to stay anywhere without one's family. On Nekkar, it is illegal to do, say or imply anything that isn;t true. The word history is not allowed because the Meropians deem it to be insulting. MArriage in earth was outlawed. \n"
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for breaking the Law of Contact or for dereliction of duty. And there was also the possibility, which abruptly occurred to him, that the robots might well be prepared to blow his ship to hell and gone. He stopped in the center of the deck. A whole new line of thought opened up. If the robots were armed and ready ... could this be an outpost? An outpost! He turned and raced for the bridge. If he went in and landed and was lost, then the League might never know in time. If he went in and stirred up trouble....
Did our friends from the fourth planet do this, or were they the same people as these?" Steffens did not take his eyes from the screen. They were coming around to the daylight side. "We'll go down and look for the answer," he said. "Break out the radiation suits." He paused, thinking. If the ones on the fourth planet were alien to this world, they were from outer space, could not have come from one of the other planets here. They had starships and were warlike. Then, thousands of years ago. He began to realize how important it really was
and then there were more cities—all with the black depression, the circular stamp that blotted away and fused the buildings into nothing. No one on the ship had anything to say. None had ever seen a war, for there had not been war on Earth or near it for more than three hundred years. The ship circled around to the dark side of the planet. When they were down below a mile, the radiation counters began to react. It became apparent, from the dials, that there could be nothing alive. After a while Ball said: "Well, which do you figure?
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction June 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE VALLEY By Richard Stockham Illustrated by Ed Emsh If you can't find it countless millions of miles in space, come back to Earth. You might find it just on the other side of the fence—where the grass is always greener. The Ship dove into Earth's sea of atmosphere like a great, silver fish. Inside the ship, a man and woman stood looking down at the expanse of land that
MASTER of Life and Death by ROBERT SILVERBERG ACE BOOKS A Division of A. A. Wyn, Inc. 23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N. Y. MASTER OF LIFE AND DEATH Copyright 1957, by A. A. Wyn, Inc. All Rights Reserved For Antigone— Who Thinks We're Property Printed in U.S.A. [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] THE MAN WHO RATIONED BABIES By the 23rd century Earth's population had reached seven billion. Mankind was in danger of perishing for lack of elbow room—unless prompt measures were taken. Roy Walton
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What is the relationship between Michael and Mr. Carpenter?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Tea Tray in the Sky by Evelyn E. Smith.
Relevant chunks:
the cabinet door closing brought Jack back to reality. He realized that he no longer had the photograph. Against the gloom by the cabinet, Mrs. Kesserich's white face looked at him with what seemed a malicious eagerness. "Sit down," she said, "and I'll tell you about it." Without a thought as to why she hadn't asked him a single question—he was much too dazed for that—he obeyed. Mrs. Kesserich resumed her position on the edge of the sofa. "You must understand, Mr. Barr, that Mary Alice Pope was the one love of Martin's life. He is a man of very
bound to develop differently." "Is environment so important? Newman tells about a pair of identical twins separated from birth, unaware of each other's existence. They met by accident when they were twenty-one. Each was a telephone repairman. Each had a wife the same age. Each had a baby son. And each had a fox terrier called 'Trixie.' That's without trying to make environments similar. But suppose you did try. Suppose you saw to it that each of them had exactly the same experiences at the same times...." For a moment it seemed to Jack that the room was dimming and
robot ship is the answer to the transportation problems in the Solar System. For the sake of every human being in the Solar System, we must get the bugs out of McGuire!" What's good for General Bull-moose is good for everybody , I quoted to myself. I'd have said it out loud, [9] but I was fairly certain that Shalimar Ravenhurst was not a student of the classics. "Mr. Oak, I would like you to go to Ceres and co-operate with the robotocists at Viking. When the MGYR-8 is finally built, I want it to be the prototype for a
know Martin, but year by year, month by month. This winter, he'd plan, they would visit Buenos Aires, next summer they would sail down the inland passage and he would teach Mary Hungarian for their trip to Buda-Pesth the year after, where he would occupy a chair at the university for a few months ... and so on. Finally the time for their marriage drew near. Martin had been away. His research was keeping him very busy—" Jack broke in with, "Wasn't that about the time he did his definitive work on growth and fertilization?" Mrs. Kesserich nodded with solemn
first. But—and here is where Mary's wisdom fell short—her brave gesture did not pacify them: it only increased their hatred. "Except for his research, Martin was blind to everything but his love. It was a beautiful and yet frightening passion, an insane cherishing as narrow and intense as his sisters hatred." With a start, Jack remembered that it was Mrs. Kesserich telling him all this. She went on, "Martin's love directed his every move. He was building a home for himself and Mary, and in his mind he was building a wonderful future for them as well—not vaguely, if you
Question:
What is the relationship between Michael and Mr. Carpenter?
Answer:
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[
"Mr. Carpenter is the first acquaintance Michael makes on his trip into the world. They are companions on the bus to Portyork. At first, Michael is unwilling to talk and Carpenter is curious to know about the reasons for the former to join a Brotherhood. Soon, Carpenter realizes that Michael is unfamiliar with the ways of this world and decides to take charge and show the youth around. Carpenter forgives Michael's every mistake and explains it, warning the youth to become silent in case of danger. Carpenter is more forgiving and kind than many other citizens, which is the reason for him taking charge of Michael. The man shows the newcomer around the city and prevents him from getting in trouble. Carpenter even defends Michael before an offended Meropian, who wants to report to the police. Things change when Michael begins an argument with Carpenter regarding marriage, which has been outlawed. Michael's desire to possess his girl alone contradicts the norms of the world and the youth's obstinance in this desire shock Carpenter completely. When he learns that in the Brotherhood both sexes are represented and marriage, which equals slavery to him, exists, Carpenter becomes sure that Michael can't adapt to the civilized world. After that, each goes his way.\n",
"Michael and Mr. Carpenter are travel companions for the duration of his stay in Portyork. Mr. Carpenter first befriends Michael on the jet bus, and he decides to take the latter around after seeing that Michael does not know his way around Earth. He is quick to inform Michael of the rules of the United Universe and always corrects him immediately whenever there is a problem. Mr. Carpenter is very knowledgeable about Portyork, the rules of the United Universe, and even the extraterrestrials. Although he does get fearful of Michael’s illegal outbursts, he is kind enough not to report him to the police and teach him instead. While Mr. Carpenter concludes that Michael is unsuited for life on Earth and the United Universe, there is no bad blood between them, and Michael learns a lot from him. \n",
"Michael first met Mr. Carpenter on the jet bus heading towards Portyork. Carpenter notices that Michael comes from the Brotherhood and assumed that he was there because of trouble over women. Then Michael reveals that he has been in the Brotherhood for almost his whole life. After being reminded of a few tabus and customs that Michael is not even aware off, Carpenter asks Michael to stick around him for a while since he is unfamiliar with the civilized behaviors and can easily get in trouble. After exiting the jet bus, Carpenter mentions to Michael that he does not have anything to do this moment, thus he can show him around. Carpenter helps Michael to find the position of a “Feeding Station” so that he can get some food. Afterwards, Michael attempts to break more customs when trying to get to the Old Town. However, they were all stopped by Carpenter before anyone notices it. However, getting off the taxi, a being notices Carpenter stating the word “history” and threatens to report him to the police because history is something that the Meropians lack. Carpenter begs the being and blames himself for not warning Michael. Later, Michael interrupts Carpenter, asking for the lavatory. Thus, they get to the Empire State Building, which has been transformed into a lavatory, since, apparently, it has no other use. On their way out, Carpenter is shocked at Michael desiring for a permanent family, since there’s no marriage in the Union, and family is never permanent. Carpenter is very openminded, and agrees that there are individuals that do not apapt themselves to the civilization, the Brotherhood is a much better option for them. Later, Michael heads home to his Brotherhood. ",
"Mr.Carpenter acts as a kind of companion and advisor to Micheal. They first meet on the space bus on the way to Port York. Carpenter notices that Micheal is hopelessly lost in the social intricacies of the United Universe. Carpenter decides to take Micheal under his wing to make sure that he doesn't get in any trouble with the law as he tries to maneuver his way through this new society. They exit the bus together and make their way to a nourishing station, and then into the old town, where Carpenter points out various landmarks to Micheal. Carpenter keeps having to correct Micheal on his language, and eventually has to defend and apologize for him when he offends a Meropian. Carpenter often is shocked by Micheal's language and thoughts, but chalks it up to him not being experienced. Carpenter eventually agrees that it's better for Micheal to go home to the Brotherhood. They part amicably. "
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the cabinet door closing brought Jack back to reality. He realized that he no longer had the photograph. Against the gloom by the cabinet, Mrs. Kesserich's white face looked at him with what seemed a malicious eagerness. "Sit down," she said, "and I'll tell you about it." Without a thought as to why she hadn't asked him a single question—he was much too dazed for that—he obeyed. Mrs. Kesserich resumed her position on the edge of the sofa. "You must understand, Mr. Barr, that Mary Alice Pope was the one love of Martin's life. He is a man of very
bound to develop differently." "Is environment so important? Newman tells about a pair of identical twins separated from birth, unaware of each other's existence. They met by accident when they were twenty-one. Each was a telephone repairman. Each had a wife the same age. Each had a baby son. And each had a fox terrier called 'Trixie.' That's without trying to make environments similar. But suppose you did try. Suppose you saw to it that each of them had exactly the same experiences at the same times...." For a moment it seemed to Jack that the room was dimming and
robot ship is the answer to the transportation problems in the Solar System. For the sake of every human being in the Solar System, we must get the bugs out of McGuire!" What's good for General Bull-moose is good for everybody , I quoted to myself. I'd have said it out loud, [9] but I was fairly certain that Shalimar Ravenhurst was not a student of the classics. "Mr. Oak, I would like you to go to Ceres and co-operate with the robotocists at Viking. When the MGYR-8 is finally built, I want it to be the prototype for a
know Martin, but year by year, month by month. This winter, he'd plan, they would visit Buenos Aires, next summer they would sail down the inland passage and he would teach Mary Hungarian for their trip to Buda-Pesth the year after, where he would occupy a chair at the university for a few months ... and so on. Finally the time for their marriage drew near. Martin had been away. His research was keeping him very busy—" Jack broke in with, "Wasn't that about the time he did his definitive work on growth and fertilization?" Mrs. Kesserich nodded with solemn
first. But—and here is where Mary's wisdom fell short—her brave gesture did not pacify them: it only increased their hatred. "Except for his research, Martin was blind to everything but his love. It was a beautiful and yet frightening passion, an insane cherishing as narrow and intense as his sisters hatred." With a start, Jack remembered that it was Mrs. Kesserich telling him all this. She went on, "Martin's love directed his every move. He was building a home for himself and Mary, and in his mind he was building a wonderful future for them as well—not vaguely, if you
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What is the meaning of the trip back for the whole story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Tea Tray in the Sky by Evelyn E. Smith.
Relevant chunks:
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
know...?" but he had gone again. Nurse Gray found herself addressing blackness. On the point of turning, she saw him back again. "Blankets," he instructed. "Wrap in blankets. Cold—hot too. Wrap good!" And he was gone again. Gray blinked away the illusion he disappeared upwards. She ran over to the girl. "Judith, if you want to back down, now is the time. He'll be back in a moment." "No!" Judith moaned. "No!" Gray smiled in the darkness and began wrapping the blankets around her. A light tapping at the window announced the return of Rat. The nurse pushed open the
old knowledge of the machine and its history. By the collected powers of our imagination we build and control the outward appearance of the city. "We have passed this down from father to son. A part of the ancient Legend is that the builders made provisions for the machine to be destroyed when contact with outsiders had been made once again, so that our people would again have to struggle forward to knowledge and power. The instrument of destruction was to be a man termed Eric the Bronze. It is not that you are reborn. It is just that sometime
space ship. We've enough concentrated supplies to last for a year. How far do we go? Why? When?" They stepped upon the Earth and felt the warmth of the sun and strolled toward the top of the hill. "The air smells clean," he said. "The ground feels good. I think I'll take off my shoes." She did. "Take off your boots, Michael. Try it." Wearily he pulled off his boots, stood in his bare feet. "It takes me back." "Yes," she said and began walking toward the hilltop. He followed, his boots slung around his neck. "There was a road
Why else would we have been built?" Steffens thought the robot would go on, but it didn't. The question, to Elb, was no question at all. Although Steffens knew already what the robot could not possibly have known—that the Makers were gone and would never come back—he was a long time understanding. What he did was push this speculation into the back of his mind, to keep it from Elb. He had no desire to destroy a faith. But it created a problem in him. He had begun to picture for Elb the structure of human society, and the robot—a
Question:
What is the meaning of the trip back for the whole story?
Answer:
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[
"The final passages reflect how Michael's attitude towards the outside world has changed. The Sirians' song, which sparked curiosity in him in the beginning of the story, annoys him now and makes him miss home even more. The advideo is annoying as well, as those are all over the universe and can't be turned off. Those are the annoying features of the world about which nothing can be done, and for Michael one day was enough to get tired of them. Michael has fulfilled the purpose of his visit to Earth, he understands now why the Brotherhood is so isolated from the world and he likes it. He starts missing home and his girl in one day on Earth and gladly decides to return. The Earth experience makes him sure in how he wants to live in the future - in the Brotherhood, without the constant fear of mistakes and restrictions on every step, married to his girl. The civilization seems awful to the youth, but it is spreading, as the taxi driver says. Nevertheless, Michael doesn't care about it, he feels safe in Brotherhood, and it is definitely the right place for him.",
"The meaning of the trip back is to show Michael’s development throughout the story and how he has matured into realizing that he is much more suited for life at the Brotherhood than under the rules of the United Universe. This directly contrasts his initial plan too. He, at first, wants to move to Earth and away from the Brotherhood, thinking of how it would let him start a much more exciting new life. However, the trip back shows just how unadaptable he is to the strict customs that exist and constantly expand. When he realizes this, the trip back symbolizes his maturity and realization that life back home is what is much more suited for anyways. ",
"The meaning of the trip back to the Brotherhood means that Michael does not like the way that the civilized live. He specifically mentions that he is not staying in Portyork after hearing that if he brings his girl, they cannot permanently get married, since following the custom of Talitha, one cannot have exclusive possession over one from the other sex. Simply stated, he have to share her and she have to share him if anyone wishes to have either of them. Moreover, stating that the females at the Brotherhood don’t mind being generic shows that Michael does not praise the numerous tabus and customs that they have to follow simply because another planet is following it. ",
"The trip back means that the civilisation of the United Universe is spreading. Soon, the brotherhood will be taken over. There will be no trace of the old world. there will be nowhere to escape from this constant fear of saying the wrong thing by mistake, and ending up breaking the law. There will be no more love, or monogamous relationships. Micheal and his girlfriend might never get married. They might never be able to have a family. So many planets will eventually join that no one will be able to do or say anything at all, and the things that make different cultures special will be lost, as they offend another. \n"
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and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
know...?" but he had gone again. Nurse Gray found herself addressing blackness. On the point of turning, she saw him back again. "Blankets," he instructed. "Wrap in blankets. Cold—hot too. Wrap good!" And he was gone again. Gray blinked away the illusion he disappeared upwards. She ran over to the girl. "Judith, if you want to back down, now is the time. He'll be back in a moment." "No!" Judith moaned. "No!" Gray smiled in the darkness and began wrapping the blankets around her. A light tapping at the window announced the return of Rat. The nurse pushed open the
old knowledge of the machine and its history. By the collected powers of our imagination we build and control the outward appearance of the city. "We have passed this down from father to son. A part of the ancient Legend is that the builders made provisions for the machine to be destroyed when contact with outsiders had been made once again, so that our people would again have to struggle forward to knowledge and power. The instrument of destruction was to be a man termed Eric the Bronze. It is not that you are reborn. It is just that sometime
space ship. We've enough concentrated supplies to last for a year. How far do we go? Why? When?" They stepped upon the Earth and felt the warmth of the sun and strolled toward the top of the hill. "The air smells clean," he said. "The ground feels good. I think I'll take off my shoes." She did. "Take off your boots, Michael. Try it." Wearily he pulled off his boots, stood in his bare feet. "It takes me back." "Yes," she said and began walking toward the hilltop. He followed, his boots slung around his neck. "There was a road
Why else would we have been built?" Steffens thought the robot would go on, but it didn't. The question, to Elb, was no question at all. Although Steffens knew already what the robot could not possibly have known—that the Makers were gone and would never come back—he was a long time understanding. What he did was push this speculation into the back of his mind, to keep it from Elb. He had no desire to destroy a faith. But it created a problem in him. He had begun to picture for Elb the structure of human society, and the robot—a
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What is the setting of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Beast-Jewel of Mars by V. E. Thiessen.
Relevant chunks:
explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
This was no fantasy. There was a scientific reason for it. There must be! Or should there be? Throughout all Earth history there had been Ghost Ships sailing the Seven Seas—ships doomed to roam forever because their crew broke some unbreakable law. If this was true for the ships of the seas, why not for the ships of empty space? He looked again at the strange ship. It was motionless. At least it was not nearing him. Willard could see nothing but its vague outline. A moment later he could discern a faint motion. It was turning! The Ghost Ship
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
stinging forehead on his arms, cursing softly and crying. Finally he rolled over, pulled his foot out of the mess, and took off his shoes. They were full of mud—sticky sandy mud. The dark world was reeling about him, and the wind was dragging at his breath. He fell back against the sand pile and let his feet sink in the mud hole and wriggled his toes. He was laughing soundlessly, and his face was wet in the wind. He couldn't think. He couldn't remember where he was and why, and he stopped caring, and after a while he felt
Question:
What is the setting of the story?
Answer:
|
[
"The story begins in in the desert on Mars, on the edge of a canal. In the bottom of the canal there is a fabulous city with the spires and minarets. Following the main character, the setting moves closer to the city, all the way through red dust everywhere around. The city is surrounded with a high wall and a heavy gate carved with lotus blossoms. Inside the gate there is a sentinel with a sword and a crowd surrounds the character soon. He then escapes to the desert with its dust again and suddenly sees the city in an ugly way, the whole setting becomes disgusting and sordid. It keeps changing from beautiful to ugliness then while Eric goes away up the rocky sides of the canal to the desert. From there he moves to the ship. The ship is familiar to the character, though it's unlocked and empty. Eric returns to the city and starts going around the wall. Together with his brother he enters the city and heads to its center, the city seems beautiful and ugly at the same time while the helmet is still on Eric. Without it the city is more beautiful than ever. He follows his brother down a street of blue fur, then they ran from persecutors and Eric hid in a crevice between two buildings. from there some people captured Eric and moved to the center of the street.Then, Eric is saved by a girl and escapes on a horse. The setting moves to the door of the house of the Council and Eric enters. He goes into a large conference room through the hallway. There is a great T-table with six people sitting. ",
"The story is set on Mars. Eric finds himself in a pit, where a beautiful, almost magical city lies. It is more stunning than imagination, with bejewelled towers and a soft, sweet music that spills out over the city walls. Outside of this city are the deserts of Mars, which were once lush, and divided by streams of green water. On the desert plane is Eric and his brother's ship. Inside the city again is the headquarters where the Elders sit. It is a functional, cubic building, which is described as just as beautiful as the rest of the buildings of the city, but in a rather different way. \n",
"There is a canal that is filled with red dust, and there are spires and minarets which twinkles in the distance. The side of the canal has small slopes and rough sandstones. The city is surrounded by high walls and the gate is carved with lotus blossoms. The city, without the illusions, becomes dull and sordid. It was filled with disgust and hatred. Eric’s ship has a door that leads directly to the body of the ship. There is a control board where a note from Grave is clipped. Back at the city, the street is filled with blue fur. The crevice between two buildings is used for hiding, but soon Eric is taken down the fur road to the center. The city is filled with exquisite ornaments. On the other hand, the Elder’s building is cubical and in direct contrast with the city. It seems as if it is from another time. The door of this building is also very plain. The pathway from the door leads to a conference room which has a great T-shaped table made of the same luminous plastic as the door. Beneath the building, there is a machine that translates the mass will of the citizens into reality. ",
"The story is first set outside of the city. Eric is near a canal in a desert on Mars. There is red dust being sifted by the winds and rough sandstone everywhere. Once he reaches the city, it is illusioned to have high walls and a gate with lotus blossoms carved into it. Eric also sees a long blue street from where the sentinel stands. Once he begins to beat the door, causing his hat to fall off, the city’s appearance changes to one that has misshapen gargoyles of hatred as its spires and minarets. The previously beautiful music also changes to a song of hate. Eric’s ship is briefly described as having locked doors and being armed enough to destroy the city. Once Nolette and Eric reach the city’s center, the building is described as a monolith from another time. It is cubical and contrasts the rest of the city with its severe line and architecture. Even the door is plain and made out of luminous plastic, giving it a more timeless beauty. Down the hallway, there is a conference room with a T-shaped table made up of the same luminous plastic as the door. Beneath the building, caverns house the heart of the machine city. When Kroon mentions the past to Eric, he says that Mars once ran clear and green with water. Instead of deserts, there were vineyards and gardens. "
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explain the phenomena of the Ghost Ship? Was it really only a product of his imagination? What of all the others who had seen it? Was it possible for many different men under many different situations to have the same exact illusion? Reason denied that. But perhaps space itself denies reason. Grimly he retraced the legend of the Ghost Ship. A chance phrase here and a story there put together all that he knew: Doomed for all eternity to wander in the empty star-lanes, the Ghost Ship haunts the Solar System that gave it birth. And this is its tragedy,
course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink or wear that girls in large offices don't do or eat or drink or wear? What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists? What are we missing? What—" In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed. Andy bolted up from his chair. Racing to the door, he shouted back to Bettijean, "Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab." It was the girl who had
This was no fantasy. There was a scientific reason for it. There must be! Or should there be? Throughout all Earth history there had been Ghost Ships sailing the Seven Seas—ships doomed to roam forever because their crew broke some unbreakable law. If this was true for the ships of the seas, why not for the ships of empty space? He looked again at the strange ship. It was motionless. At least it was not nearing him. Willard could see nothing but its vague outline. A moment later he could discern a faint motion. It was turning! The Ghost Ship
HOME IS WHERE YOU LEFT IT By ADAM CHASE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories February 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The chance of mass slaughter was their eternal nightmare. How black is the blackest treachery? Is the most callous traitor entitled to mercy? Steve pondered these questions. His decision? That at times the villain should possibly be spoken of as a hero. Only the shells of deserted mud-brick houses greeted Steve Cantwell when he reached the village. He poked around in them for a
stinging forehead on his arms, cursing softly and crying. Finally he rolled over, pulled his foot out of the mess, and took off his shoes. They were full of mud—sticky sandy mud. The dark world was reeling about him, and the wind was dragging at his breath. He fell back against the sand pile and let his feet sink in the mud hole and wriggled his toes. He was laughing soundlessly, and his face was wet in the wind. He couldn't think. He couldn't remember where he was and why, and he stopped caring, and after a while he felt
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What is the plot of the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Beast-Jewel of Mars by V. E. Thiessen.
Relevant chunks:
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
What is POSAT? By PHYLLIS STERLING SMITH Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Of course coming events cast their shadows before, but this shadow was 400 years long! The following advertisement appeared in the July 1953 issue of several magazines: MASTERY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE CAN BE YOURS! What is the secret source of those profound principles that can solve the problems of life? Send for our FREE booklet of explanation. Do not be a
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
10:30." The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place. He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the
the corner he halted. The street lights had not yet come on. The street was dim. Everything was vague. He looked around—and froze. From the telephone pole in front of the police station, something large and shapeless hung. It moved a little with the wind. What the hell was it? Mason approached it warily. He wanted to get home. He was tired and hungry. He thought of his wife, his kids, a hot meal on the dinner table. But there was something about the dark bundle, something ominous and ugly. The light was bad; he couldn't tell what it was.
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"Eric North, a man from Earth, is lying on his stomach and thinking whether he should go down to the bottom of the canal before him, where the beauty of the fabled city of Mars calls the youth. After a short resistance, Eric surrenders to the call of the city, rushes towards it and starts beating the gate to get in. Upon hearing Eric's name, the sentinel screams it out loud and strikes the man with hatred, mentioning some kind of a legend. A crowd full of hatred gathers, but Eric manages to escape from the city. Nevertheless, it calls again and he starts pleading at the gates to be let back, even though he knows it's insane. Shortly after, Eric realizes, with the help of taking off his hat, that the beauty is an illusion and walks away on a safe distance. He figures out putting the hat on and off confuses the machine and the illusion disappears. He decides to destroy the city without exploring further not to put himself and his brother in danger. Nevertheless, turns out that Garve, the brother, followed his curiosity and went to the city. When the two meet, Garve takes off Eric's head and mentions the legend about Eric which everyone in the city believes. While heading to the city center, the two are followed and Garve asks his brother not to use the gun, which results in Eric's capture. Eric bluffs, threatening people with the prophecy, but they decide to kill him. A respected young woman, Nolette, suddenly saves him and brings before the council. There Eric learns the story of the city, which is a small colony of those who chose to remain on Mars during the drought and a machine was created there to translate thought into reality. Now people become lustful, lose their will to learn and many of those banished have lost their minds. That's why the city has to be destroyed and Eric is the instrument. Then Eric is led to his quarters in the building of the Elders, and his brother stays in the city as well, though in another place.",
"Eric North, from Earth, is trying to escape the illusion of a grand, but evil city on Mars. A machine buried deep under the city is controlling this facade, to make the city unspeakably beautiful, luring Eric in. He tries his best to avert his eyes from the city, but sweet music pours out of it, and he goes back, banging on the door to be let in. He wears a copper helmet, designed to shield him from the fabricated beauty of the place, but it doesn't seem to work. He is met by a sentinel guarding the city, who attacks him with a sword when he tells the guard his name. He exclaims that Eric is \"Eric the Bronze''. Eric wakes up with the people of the city crowding around him. They agree to execute him, but Eric is able to escape, making it back to his ship, where he expects to meet his brother Garve. He realises that if he continues to take the helmet he is wearing on and off, he can see past the illusion of the city, for what it truly is, and escapes it's pull. When he arrives on the ship, he sees a note from Garve, telling Eric that he heard the sweet music of the city, and has gone to explore it. Eric takes two grenades and his pistol, and goes to save Garve. He scales the outer wall of the city, soon meeting Garve. He steals the copper helmet away from Eric, throwing it over the wall. He tells Eric to keep his face hidden so the people of the city won't see him. He relays how the elders of the city told him the legend of Eric The Bronze, whom they are going to see now. They are soon spotted and taken by two men to the centre of the city, where the mob plan on killing him again. Just then, a woman on a black horse appears. Her name is Nolette, The Daughter of the City. She takes Eric to the building in which the elders preside. Eric enters the room where they are waiting. They Tell Eric of how the city came to be. How the once lush Mars died, and the city was created to protect those who keep the ancient skills and science of Mars. The city is really a machine under their feet, and it can be changed into whatever an inhabitant thinks of. However, over time, the people grew drunk with the power of creation and turned evil. And so, it is time for the city to be destroyed. And as the prophecy states, Eric will be the one to carry out the destruction. They invite him to stay in the city with his brother until this time comes, and if after a while it doesn't, and the prophecy is wrong, he is free to go. ",
"The story starts with Eric North, an Earth man, laying on the ground in the canal where he can see the spires and minarets in the distance. Those minarets and the city attracts him, but his mind fights this dangerous thought and reminds him the possibility of becoming a soulless husk. He refuses to look at it and walks away from the city. However, after reaching the bottom of the canal, he runs towards the city. As he gets nearer, he can hear richer music. The sentinel assumes that he is Eric the Bronze from the legend and hits Eric with his sword. The other people in the city also look at him with hatred and want to whip him. He gets so scared that he runs away. When he is attracted to come back again, he realizes that his metal helmet is able to defend the illusions for a short while. Thus, on his way back to his ship he keeps putting the helmet on and taking it off. He assumes that the helmet’s electrical circuit is able to defend against the illusion for a while since it takes some time for the illusions to adjust the waves to affect him. Even though he seems very curious to learn more about the city, he decides to go back to the ship to his brother Grave North. \n\nOn the ship, Eric realizes that Grave had also heard the beautiful music from the city. While the music did not force Grave, his curiosity lead him to the city. Eric gets some explosives and goes back to the city. Climbing the city’s wall, he is greeted by a caricature form of his brother. The caricature tells him to get rid of his hat as they walk to the city center where the Elders are expecting him. Realizing that they are being followed, they run separately. When Eric is finally captured, he remembers that his brother told him to not use the gun. Thus, he uses superstition and tells them that a Legend cannot be defeated with some simple whips. They decide to kill him instead. Before he is killed, Nolette, the Daughter of the City, carries him to the Council on a horse. There, he learns that Eric the Bronze will destroy this city. He also acknowledges that the city is a product of a machine that translates the mass will of the citizens into reality. From the Elders, he learns about the banished ones and the ancient Legend. Finally, he is then to stay inside this building for some time. If he is not Eric the Legend, then he will be able stay or leave as he desires. ",
"Eric North finds the fabled city of Mars and hears strange music that he cannot resist. Although he tries to turn away, the tune’s influence becomes too powerful. He runs to the city’s gates and demands to be let in. The gates swing open, and one of the well-dressed sentinels welcomes him. However, once he gives his name, the sentinel claims that he is Eric the Bronze and smashes his sword on Eric’s metal hat. When Eric wakes up again, he finds many beautiful citizens staring at him with hatred. He fears what the citizens will do and runs out of the city, despite the music telling him to come back. For a moment, the illusion of the beautiful city changes to one of evil and disgust. Eric walks away from the canal and examines how the illusions have affected him. His helmet has an electrical circuit that acts as a shield against any electrical waves that may affect his brain. Although Eric wants to know more, it is too dangerous. He finds his brother Garve North and plans to make arrangements to have the city destroyed. When Eric returns, Garve tells him about seeing the city and is going down to see it again. He selects two grenades and a pistol packed with explosive pellets as he goes back to investigate with Garve. After he returns, the illusion changes once again when he has his hat on and after Garve throws his hat out of the city walls. Garve reveals that he knows about Eric the Bronze legend and is taking him to see the Elders right now. The two of them are being followed by the citizens, and Garve tries to distract them. They realize that Eric is who they want; Eric wants to use his gun, but Garve warns him not to if he values his brother’s life. Instead, he tries to scare the citizens by bluffing, but they decide to kill him and stop the prophesy. Nolette, the Daughter of the City, suddenly appears and retrieves him from the angry crowd. She takes him to a building in the city center and tells him to go inside to see The Council. Six men and Nolette sit at a conference table, and they begin to discuss him. Nolette believes he is Eric the Bronze, while Kroon explains that he is prophesied to destroy the city. The city is also a machine built to protect the small colony of those on Mars after natural changes occurred. Kroon further explains that the Elders collectively control the city’s appearance, and the ancient builders prophesied that the machine would be destroyed by a man termed Eric the Bronze. The name Eric was chosen because it is an honorable name for the ancient fathers and a symbol of new beginnings for some. The Elders let Eric live with them, while Garve will live outside of the building. "
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of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
What is POSAT? By PHYLLIS STERLING SMITH Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Of course coming events cast their shadows before, but this shadow was 400 years long! The following advertisement appeared in the July 1953 issue of several magazines: MASTERY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE CAN BE YOURS! What is the secret source of those profound principles that can solve the problems of life? Send for our FREE booklet of explanation. Do not be a
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
10:30." The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place. He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the
the corner he halted. The street lights had not yet come on. The street was dim. Everything was vague. He looked around—and froze. From the telephone pole in front of the police station, something large and shapeless hung. It moved a little with the wind. What the hell was it? Mason approached it warily. He wanted to get home. He was tired and hungry. He thought of his wife, his kids, a hot meal on the dinner table. But there was something about the dark bundle, something ominous and ugly. The light was bad; he couldn't tell what it was.
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What kind of city Eric finds himself in?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Beast-Jewel of Mars by V. E. Thiessen.
Relevant chunks:
out into the street. He stood there alone feeling the age of the place. Even the smell of age was in the air. Silver moonlight from the two moons filtered through clear air down upon the ruins. The city lay now in darkness, dead and still, waiting for morning so it could lie dead and still in the sun. There was no hurry to be going home, although he was alone, although this was Alpha Centaurus II with many unknowns, many dangers ... although home was a very great distance away. There was no one back there to worry about
an Earthman standing alone, Adam's apple bobbing up and down silently. It was a Godolphian axiom that all travelers were crazy. Cassal looked up. Not an air taxi in sight; Godolph shut down at dusk. It would be pure luck if he found a taxi before morning. Of course he could walk back to the hotel, but was that such a good idea? A Godolphian city was peculiar. And, though not intended, it was peculiarly suited to certain kinds of violence. A human pedestrian was at a definite disadvantage. "Correction," said Dimanche. "Not simple assault. He has murder in mind."
Lights glowed in the windows. Jeff could hear the whisper of traffic on a boulevard a few blocks away. Through the warm dusk, he could dimly see the mountains on the horizon. All was peaceful. Snader unlocked the front door with a key which he drew from a fine metal chain around his neck. He swept open the front door with a flourish and beamed at them, but Ann drew back. "'Walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,'" she murmured to Jeff. "This could be a gambling hell. Or a dope den." "No matter what kind of
a ship out into space alone, when Things could be waiting.... A young girl, pink and lovely in a thick fur jacket, came into the shack and told him breathlessly that her father, Mr. Rush, would like to know if he wanted sentries posted. Dylan hadn't thought about it but he said yes right away, beginning to feel both pleased and irritated at the same time, because now they were coming to him. He pushed out into the cold and went to find Rossel. With the snow it was bad enough, but if they were still here when the sun
"It still doesn't appeal to me," said Cassal. Striving to look unconcerned, he strolled toward the building side of the walkway and stared into the interior of a small cafe. Warm, bright and dry. Inside, he might find safety for a time. Damn the man who was following him! It would be easy enough to elude him in a normal city. On Godolph, nothing was normal. In an hour the streets would be brightly lighted—for native eyes. A human would consider it dim. "Why did he choose me?" asked Cassal plaintively. "There must be something he hopes to gain." "I'm
Question:
What kind of city Eric finds himself in?
Answer:
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[
"The city is located on Mars. It was created a long time ago when Mars was flourishing. When most Martians left the planet because of the drought, a small colony remained in this place. Back then a machine, which is the whole city, was created to protect this small group. The machine translates thought into reality. It was used for the people in the city to receive all the necessary for life. At first, Eric considered it an illusion. The city captures thoughts with the use of a device and Eric's hat was an obstacle. Putting it on and off confused the machine and Eric was able to see the real ugliness of the city. When one gets into the radius of the machine, he is also called by it and can not refuse the city's beauty. When one doesn't look at the beautiful city, a voice still calls him. Many try to make their lustful desires real, they are banished for that and go mad. That's why the machine is not doing only good things anymore and should be destroyed in accordance with the prophecy. There is the council in the center of the city, whose Eldest know all about the origin of the machine. The members of the council, such as the daughter of the city, are respected by all the citizens. ",
"The city that Eric finds himself in is very strange, as it is not really a city at all. It is in fact, a machine buried underground. It was created so that the inhabitants that colonise this area could create whatever their hearts desired from the sand of the great deserts of mars. Beautiful music emanates out of it. The buildings of the city are towers that sparkle with jewels. In the centre of the city is a street covered in blue fur. All the people of the city seem to be more stunning than humanly possible. But the city is a lie. In truth, it holds ugliness and evil. It's inhabitants, while beautiful on the outside, are greedy, and drunk with power. \n",
"Eric first has illusions of long streets of fur, jewels, wine, and fair women. When he gets to the city, he sees high walls surrounding the city and a gate carved with lotus blossoms. While the women in the city are beautiful, they stare at him with hatred. The city has wide fur streets going toward the center. The Elder’s building is cubical. It is in direct contrast with the exquisite ornament of the rest of the city. In the conference room in the Elder’s building, he learns that the city is very old. It dates back to when the canals has clear, green water and the deserts have plants. This city is the product of a machine that translates the mass will of the citizens into reality. He learns that the outward appearance of the city is maintained by the combined power of their imaginations. ",
"Eric finds himself in a city that is actually a machine built to protect a small colony of the remaining inhabitants on Mars. The nature of the machine itself is to translate thought into reality, which is why the Elders can build and control its outward appearance. Many of the things in the city can be made from the machine by transmuting red dust in the desert to any desired material. The construction device of the machine then assembles the material into any pattern that has been recorded from one’s thought. Even with the many beautiful citizens, including Garve, after they return the second time, it is all an illusion as part of the machine. "
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out into the street. He stood there alone feeling the age of the place. Even the smell of age was in the air. Silver moonlight from the two moons filtered through clear air down upon the ruins. The city lay now in darkness, dead and still, waiting for morning so it could lie dead and still in the sun. There was no hurry to be going home, although he was alone, although this was Alpha Centaurus II with many unknowns, many dangers ... although home was a very great distance away. There was no one back there to worry about
an Earthman standing alone, Adam's apple bobbing up and down silently. It was a Godolphian axiom that all travelers were crazy. Cassal looked up. Not an air taxi in sight; Godolph shut down at dusk. It would be pure luck if he found a taxi before morning. Of course he could walk back to the hotel, but was that such a good idea? A Godolphian city was peculiar. And, though not intended, it was peculiarly suited to certain kinds of violence. A human pedestrian was at a definite disadvantage. "Correction," said Dimanche. "Not simple assault. He has murder in mind."
Lights glowed in the windows. Jeff could hear the whisper of traffic on a boulevard a few blocks away. Through the warm dusk, he could dimly see the mountains on the horizon. All was peaceful. Snader unlocked the front door with a key which he drew from a fine metal chain around his neck. He swept open the front door with a flourish and beamed at them, but Ann drew back. "'Walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,'" she murmured to Jeff. "This could be a gambling hell. Or a dope den." "No matter what kind of
a ship out into space alone, when Things could be waiting.... A young girl, pink and lovely in a thick fur jacket, came into the shack and told him breathlessly that her father, Mr. Rush, would like to know if he wanted sentries posted. Dylan hadn't thought about it but he said yes right away, beginning to feel both pleased and irritated at the same time, because now they were coming to him. He pushed out into the cold and went to find Rossel. With the snow it was bad enough, but if they were still here when the sun
"It still doesn't appeal to me," said Cassal. Striving to look unconcerned, he strolled toward the building side of the walkway and stared into the interior of a small cafe. Warm, bright and dry. Inside, he might find safety for a time. Damn the man who was following him! It would be easy enough to elude him in a normal city. On Godolph, nothing was normal. In an hour the streets would be brightly lighted—for native eyes. A human would consider it dim. "Why did he choose me?" asked Cassal plaintively. "There must be something he hopes to gain." "I'm
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What is the significance of Garve leaving the ship and following the call of the city?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Beast-Jewel of Mars by V. E. Thiessen.
Relevant chunks:
the ship's mechanical diagnostician. His report followed: ARM SWOLLEN. UNABLE TO KEEP DOWN FOOD LAST TWELVE HOURS. ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO, ENTIRE BODY TURNED LIVID RED. BRIEF PERIODS OF BLANKNESS. THINGS KEEP COMING AND GOING. SICK AS HELL. HURRY. SMOKY The ship's next message read: INFECTION QUITE DEFINITE. BUT SOMETHING STRANGE THERE. GIVE US ANYTHING MORE YOU HAVE. SS II His own reply perplexed Kaiser: LAST LETTER FUNNY. I NOT UNDERSTAND. WHY IS OO SENDING GARBLE TALK? DID USNS MAKE UP SECRET MESSAGES? SMOKY The expedition, apparently, was as puzzled as he: WHAT'S THE MATTER, SMOKY? THAT LAST MESSAGE WAS
"It still doesn't appeal to me," said Cassal. Striving to look unconcerned, he strolled toward the building side of the walkway and stared into the interior of a small cafe. Warm, bright and dry. Inside, he might find safety for a time. Damn the man who was following him! It would be easy enough to elude him in a normal city. On Godolph, nothing was normal. In an hour the streets would be brightly lighted—for native eyes. A human would consider it dim. "Why did he choose me?" asked Cassal plaintively. "There must be something he hopes to gain." "I'm
IN PLAIN TERRAN. NO REASON WHY YOU COULDN'T READ IT. AND WHY THE BABY TALK? IF YOU'RE SPOOFING, STOP. GIVE US MORE SYMPTOMS. HOW ARE YOU FEELING NOW? SS II The baby talk was worse on Kaiser's next: TWAZY. WHAT FOR OO TENDING TWAZY LETTERS? FINK UM CAN WEAD TWAZY LETTERS? SKIN ALL YELLOW NOW. COLD. COLD. CO The ship's following communication was three hours late. It was the last on the tape—the one Kaiser had read earlier. Apparently they decided to humor him. OO IS SICK, SMOKY. DO TO BEDDY-BY. KEEP UM WARM. WHEN UM FEELS BETTER, LET USNS
information. Strangely, the messages indicated need for haste did not prod Kaiser. He knew now that the job could be done, perhaps in a few hours' time. And the Soscites II would not complete its orbit of the planet for two weeks yet. Without putting on more than the shirt and trousers he had grown used to wearing, Kaiser went outside and wandered listlessly about the vicinity of the ship for several hours. When he became hungry, he went back inside. Another message came in as he finished eating. This one was from the captain himself: WHY HAVE WE RECEIVED
per second. Nor [14] did he have a set, unmoving highway as his path; his paths were variable and led through the emptiness of space. Unforeseen emergencies can happen at any time in space, most of them having to do with the lives of passengers. A cargo ship would be somewhat less susceptible to such emergencies if there were no humans aboard; it doesn't matter much to a robot if he has no air in his hull. But with passengers aboard, there may be times when it would be necessary to give orders— fast ! And that means verbal orders,
Question:
What is the significance of Garve leaving the ship and following the call of the city?
Answer:
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[
"Eric is determined to destroy the city without exploring it, no matter how tempting it is. But Garve's note forces the eldest brother to follow and help his brother out. The whole course of events changes and Eric has to return to the city, which he left with such an effort. This leads to Eric being endangered, captured and almost killed. From another point, it leads to Eric learning more about the city and they legend. If he destroyed the city as he wanted to, he would fulfill the prophecy without knowing. He would have considered the whole city an illusion without knowing it was a machine initially created for a good purpose. His return to the city also leads to his encounter with the beautiful girl, whose presence makes Eric happy. ",
"Garve leaving the ship and following the call of the city is very significant to the plot. Before Eric realised that Garve had gone to the city, he was planning on destroying the place, with all of its inhabitants at once. Because Grave is missing, Eric must return to the city, where Garve has learned from the Elders about the legend of Eric the Bronze. Garve tries to take Eric to see the Elders, but Eric is captured by two civilians on the way. It is during this capture that Eric meets Nolette, who takes him to see the Elders. Because of Garve leaving the ship, the Elders are able to explain the history behind this mysterious city of Mars, and that he must be the one to destroy it. \n",
"Garve’s leaving serves as a reason and motive for Eric North to go back to the city. Knowing that Garve does not have a metal helmet nor does he has any weapons, Eric needs to go back to the city to bring Garve back. And because Eric goes back to the city, he is captured again, which leads to the next part of the story inside the Elder’s building. If Garve did not leave for the city, Eric might not be captured, encounter Nolette, and learn about the city from the Elders. ",
"Garve leaving the ship and following the city's call sets up the second return to the city. Since Eric had initially planned to destroy the city, Garve's insistence on going back again prevents him from doing so. Furthermore, this second trip allows Eric to meet the Elders and not get killed by the citizens. Once he meets the Elders, he is more knowledgeable about the city's prophesy and story. It also sets up the purpose of Eric the Bronze and whether Eric North will fulfill it or not. However, this is also significant to Garve because he shows that he loves the city and wants to stay in it, directly contradicting what Eric is supposed to do to the city. \n\n"
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the ship's mechanical diagnostician. His report followed: ARM SWOLLEN. UNABLE TO KEEP DOWN FOOD LAST TWELVE HOURS. ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO, ENTIRE BODY TURNED LIVID RED. BRIEF PERIODS OF BLANKNESS. THINGS KEEP COMING AND GOING. SICK AS HELL. HURRY. SMOKY The ship's next message read: INFECTION QUITE DEFINITE. BUT SOMETHING STRANGE THERE. GIVE US ANYTHING MORE YOU HAVE. SS II His own reply perplexed Kaiser: LAST LETTER FUNNY. I NOT UNDERSTAND. WHY IS OO SENDING GARBLE TALK? DID USNS MAKE UP SECRET MESSAGES? SMOKY The expedition, apparently, was as puzzled as he: WHAT'S THE MATTER, SMOKY? THAT LAST MESSAGE WAS
"It still doesn't appeal to me," said Cassal. Striving to look unconcerned, he strolled toward the building side of the walkway and stared into the interior of a small cafe. Warm, bright and dry. Inside, he might find safety for a time. Damn the man who was following him! It would be easy enough to elude him in a normal city. On Godolph, nothing was normal. In an hour the streets would be brightly lighted—for native eyes. A human would consider it dim. "Why did he choose me?" asked Cassal plaintively. "There must be something he hopes to gain." "I'm
IN PLAIN TERRAN. NO REASON WHY YOU COULDN'T READ IT. AND WHY THE BABY TALK? IF YOU'RE SPOOFING, STOP. GIVE US MORE SYMPTOMS. HOW ARE YOU FEELING NOW? SS II The baby talk was worse on Kaiser's next: TWAZY. WHAT FOR OO TENDING TWAZY LETTERS? FINK UM CAN WEAD TWAZY LETTERS? SKIN ALL YELLOW NOW. COLD. COLD. CO The ship's following communication was three hours late. It was the last on the tape—the one Kaiser had read earlier. Apparently they decided to humor him. OO IS SICK, SMOKY. DO TO BEDDY-BY. KEEP UM WARM. WHEN UM FEELS BETTER, LET USNS
information. Strangely, the messages indicated need for haste did not prod Kaiser. He knew now that the job could be done, perhaps in a few hours' time. And the Soscites II would not complete its orbit of the planet for two weeks yet. Without putting on more than the shirt and trousers he had grown used to wearing, Kaiser went outside and wandered listlessly about the vicinity of the ship for several hours. When he became hungry, he went back inside. Another message came in as he finished eating. This one was from the captain himself: WHY HAVE WE RECEIVED
per second. Nor [14] did he have a set, unmoving highway as his path; his paths were variable and led through the emptiness of space. Unforeseen emergencies can happen at any time in space, most of them having to do with the lives of passengers. A cargo ship would be somewhat less susceptible to such emergencies if there were no humans aboard; it doesn't matter much to a robot if he has no air in his hull. But with passengers aboard, there may be times when it would be necessary to give orders— fast ! And that means verbal orders,
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What is the plot of the story?
|
After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Prison Planet by Wilson Tucker.
Relevant chunks:
of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
What is POSAT? By PHYLLIS STERLING SMITH Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Of course coming events cast their shadows before, but this shadow was 400 years long! The following advertisement appeared in the July 1953 issue of several magazines: MASTERY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE CAN BE YOURS! What is the secret source of those profound principles that can solve the problems of life? Send for our FREE booklet of explanation. Do not be a
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
10:30." The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place. He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the
the corner he halted. The street lights had not yet come on. The street was dim. Everything was vague. He looked around—and froze. From the telephone pole in front of the police station, something large and shapeless hung. It moved a little with the wind. What the hell was it? Mason approached it warily. He wanted to get home. He was tired and hungry. He thought of his wife, his kids, a hot meal on the dinner table. But there was something about the dark bundle, something ominous and ugly. The light was bad; he couldn't tell what it was.
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
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[
"There is a gravely sick girl on a spaceship near Mars and the crew argues what to do. Roberds decides to pilot the ship to Earth breaking the command due to an emergency. Rat argues with him and wants to pilot the ship himself, which leads to him being forced to leave. Roberds and Peterson then explain to nurse Gray, who is looking after the sick girl, that Rat left his post once and therefore didn't warn anyone about the Sansan massacre, so now he is out of favor. The nurse, nevertheless, visits Rat in secret and asks to pilot the ship. She says the sick wants him to and Rat takes Judith, the sick girl covered in blankets, and the nurse to the hammocks on his wings. The girls then wait for him to return with another sick man who was injured after finding and saving the crashed girls in the past. Judith feels bad for breaking the law and causing so much trouble by leaving Earth, now her appendix hurts and they have to take charge of the ship and travel to a hospital on Earth. Rat returns with sick Gladney and learns that Judith and Patti Gray were attacked during their cruise to space, which is the reason they got to Mars. The trip begins, soon everyone gets thirsty and hot, Gray is hurt when the ship moves between a meteor rain, she is devastated with suffering. Rat refuses to brake and is going to make the trip in six days instead of eight. He then tells his part of the story about the Sansan massacre - he left the post to save a sick man but nobody believed it back then.",
"The story begins with Roberds yelling that he is going to pilot the ship no matter the consequences. Roberds is saying that an ill girl needs to be taken to a hospital and that he plans to take her to Earth where she can be treated. He then asks Patti for the status of Judith and she communicates that Judith is holding in but will not be able to do so for long as her health continues to fail. \n\nSeparately, Rat and Greaseball are helping complete tasks to prepare the ship for its flight to Earth. Once they are done, Greaseball tells Rat that he can go to bed. As Rat is heading to his bed, Patti whispers to him through a window. She does not want to wait to fly to Earth and asks Rat to take them instead. Rat readily agrees to do so and begins to enact their escape plan. He flies both of the girls to the ship and instructs them to be quiet on the ship so they do not attract attention. Before they head off on their trip, Rat says he is going to get Gladney and bring him too as he is also sick. When Rat returns to the ship with Gladney, they are found out and the ship begins to be attacked. One of Rat’s wings is damaged in the process. Rat pilots the ship to a very fast takeoff and they head towards Earth. At the beginning of the trip, Rat finds out that Judith is ill because of her appendix. \n\nPatti continues talking to Rat and answering questions about herself and Judith. During the conversation with Rat, she begins to realize the trip is going to be very uncomfortable as the cooling system is not working and they have a very limited supply of water. Patti becomes dehydrated and grows increasingly upset about the conditions on the cramped ship. In exasperation, she repeatedly asks him how many more days they have to spend on the ship. \n\nGladney suddenly wakes up and in an excited manner tells Rat that he needs to begin braking. Gladney begins asking Patti for help in convincing Rat to apply the brakes to make sure they get to Earth safely. Rat explains that he is cutting the trip time down from an expected 78 days to just 6 days with no breaks. Suddenly, they spot Earth in the distance. Patti starts to ask Rat about the attack that the Chief mentioned earlier and Rat says that he was just trying to help someone but knew no one would listen to his story. Gladney interrupts the conversation and taunts Rat that he will be arrested when they get to Earth to the dismay of Patti. Rat replies by cryptically stating that Earth seems like a nice place but not one for him. \n",
"Gladney and Judith are two ill patients who require surgery on Earth. A Centaurian named Rat asks the Chief Consul Roberds if he can pilot the ship, but the field manager angrily denies him the opportunity. He asks Peterson to help get rid of Rat, and Rat leaves quickly. Roberds is determined to take the ship for himself because both patients will get the necessary treatment, and he mentions that Greaseball has stayed up all night, tearing the bunks and lockers out to prepare. Nurse Gray comes back after checking on the patient, and he tells her that she will be sleeping in a hammock for their eight-day trip. Gray asks about Rat, to which Peterson explains that he was part of the Sansan massacre. Rat was a member of the outpost watch, but he went AWOL from the Ganymedean colony when Mad Barry Sansan attacked and was saved by politics. Gray tells Roberds to call her if needed and then leaves the room. The story cuts to Rat helping Greaseball fill the water tanks with fuel and check the concentrated rations. Just as Rat is about to go to bed, Nurse Gray gets his attention and tells him that her patient wants him to pilot the ship. He instructs the nurse to wrap Judith up and takes them to the ship by flying. After dropping both of them inside, Rat leaves to transport Gladney. Judith laments about having learned her lesson the hard way and notices that the pilot has been gone for a long time. Just then, Rat returns with Gladney after tricking Roberds and Peterson by burning down his shack. Rat then takes off with the ship. They get thirsty from the heat, but there is only one water tank because the rest is full of fuel. The water they drink is hot because the ship itself is heating up. Gray realizes that the hammocks have also turned upside down. The ship is hell as the journey continues because of the uncomfortable conditions, lack of sleep, and increasing heat. However, Rat continues to drive the ship. Even when Nurse Gray continuously asks him how long the trip is and breaks down, he makes her get up. Gladney wants Rat to brake too, but he refuses and explains that this is a six-day journey. He also says that they will land tonight. Nurse Gray asks him about his knowledge of the attack in the Sansan massacre; Rat responds that he left his post to help a sick man in the desert when the attack happened. Gladney tells him that the police will get him the moment they land, while Rat only grins and says that Earth is not a place for Rat. Gladney realizes what he implies, but Rat tells him to shut up because he talks too much. ",
"The story opens on Mars, with Chief Roberds and Peterson speaking to Rat, a Centaurian. Peterson refuses to allow Rat to pilot an emergency surface ship to Earth after several people have fallen sick due to a space illness. The two argue briefly, before Rat storms out. As Peterson and the Chief discuss the fate of the ship, and advise that Roberds pilot the ship despite it possibly costing him his job, nurse Patti Gray appears in the doorway. She tells them that her patient, seventeen year old Judith, is falling ill quickly and asks when the trip was planned to take place. She also asks about Rat, and it is revealed that he has a record due to his role in the Sansan massacre, where he abandoned his post, causing destruction to their colony. Roberds plans to take off at dawn. However, that night, Patti finds Rat and asks him to pilot the ship; Judith requested him specifically and they fear waiting until dawn. Rat agrees, and carries them to the ship using his wings. He additionally brings Gladney along, who is also sick. As the ship prepares to take off, they are suddenly attacked with bullets. Rat is injured slightly but they manage to get away. On the ship, Rat asks Patti what is wrong with Judith, and she replies saying that she has appendicitis; Rat remarks that Centaurians do not have an appendix. There are challenges on the ship, namely the temperature and the lack of water supply; Patti and Rat are only allowed two drinks a day, and the water remains hot. As time passes, the crew begins to go mad, and Gladney erupts in rage, telling Rat to begin braking the ship. Rat reveals that they had long since passed the halfway mark, and he does not intend to brake. Gladney angrily tells Rat that the police will be waiting for him on Earth."
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of futile sons? What can I do to save myself from dying eight days from now? Is there escape? His eyes widened, another image came to focus. Beyond this valley of cliffs, on a low mountain lay a perfect, unscarred metal seed. A metal ship, not rusted or touched by the avalanches. The ship was deserted, whole, intact. It was the only ship of all these that had crashed that was still a unit, still usable. But it was so far away. There was no one in it to help. This ship, then, on the far mountain, was the destiny
What is POSAT? By PHYLLIS STERLING SMITH Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Of course coming events cast their shadows before, but this shadow was 400 years long! The following advertisement appeared in the July 1953 issue of several magazines: MASTERY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE CAN BE YOURS! What is the secret source of those profound principles that can solve the problems of life? Send for our FREE booklet of explanation. Do not be a
mission that huge and depressing in eight short, vanishing days? How had his people gotten into such a condition? As if at a button pressed, he saw an image. Metal seeds, blown across space from a distant green world, fighting with long flames, crashing on this bleak planet. From their shattered hulls tumble men and women. When? Long ago. Ten thousand days. The crash victims hid in the cliffs from the sun. Fire, ice and floods washed away the wreckage of the huge metal seeds. The victims were shaped and beaten like iron upon a forge. Solar radiations drenched them.
10:30." The following evening found Quidley on tenter-hooks. The snoll-doper mystery had acquired a new tang. He could hardly wait till the next message transfer took place. He decided to spend the evening plotting the epic novel which he intended to write someday. He set to work immediately. He plotted mentally, of course—notes were for the hacks and the other commercial non-geniuses who infested the modern literary world. Closing his eyes, he saw the whole vivid panorama of epic action and grand adventure flowing like a mighty and majestic river before his literary vision: the authentic and awe-inspiring background; the
the corner he halted. The street lights had not yet come on. The street was dim. Everything was vague. He looked around—and froze. From the telephone pole in front of the police station, something large and shapeless hung. It moved a little with the wind. What the hell was it? Mason approached it warily. He wanted to get home. He was tired and hungry. He thought of his wife, his kids, a hot meal on the dinner table. But there was something about the dark bundle, something ominous and ugly. The light was bad; he couldn't tell what it was.
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What is the relationship between Judith and Patti Gray?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Prison Planet by Wilson Tucker.
Relevant chunks:
acknowledged with a grin. "Why don't you fill out this questionnaire incognito, though?" she suggested. "Pretend that we're wealthy and see if they try to get our money. Do they have anything yet except your name and address?" Don was shocked. "If I send this back to them, it will have to be with correct answers!" "The scientific attitude again," Betty sighed. "Don't you ever let your imagination run away with the facts a bit? What are you going to give for your reasons for asking about POSAT?" "Curiosity," he replied, and, pulling his fountain pen from his vest pocket,
What is POSAT? By PHYLLIS STERLING SMITH Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Of course coming events cast their shadows before, but this shadow was 400 years long! The following advertisement appeared in the July 1953 issue of several magazines: MASTERY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE CAN BE YOURS! What is the secret source of those profound principles that can solve the problems of life? Send for our FREE booklet of explanation. Do not be a
rent between their world and his. "Ed!" Janet Loyce backed away nervously. "What is it? What—" Ed Loyce slammed the door behind him and came into the living room. "Pull down the shades. Quick." Janet moved toward the window. "But—" "Do as I say. Who else is here besides you?" "Nobody. Just the twins. They're upstairs in their room. What's happened? You look so strange. Why are you home?" Ed locked the front door. He prowled around the house, into the kitchen. From the drawer under the sink he slid out the big butcher knife and ran his finger along
edge, and birds as delicate as colored glass wavered down the wind. He opened the shelter door and went out. The shelter looked the same, but useless now. How did the shelter of that bleak world get into this one, where the air was warm and fragrant, where there was no cold, from that world into this one of his dreams? The girl—Helene—was standing there leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. He walked toward her, and stopped. In the dream it had been easy, but now he was embarrassed, in spite of the intimacy that had grown between them.
into them. She was just arriving back into the living room, tying the cord of her dressing gown about her slim waist, when she heard the sound of the police siren out front. THE END Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction July 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
Question:
What is the relationship between Judith and Patti Gray?
Answer:
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[
"Patti Gray is Judith's nurse, governess, guard and everything of that kind. Judith is only seventeen and they are pretty close with Patti. The least watches over the sick, reports her condition and fulfills the girl's request like asking Rat to pilot the ship. Judith relies on her nurse, she calls for her when in pain and tells her how sorry she is for causing trouble. Judith's call makes Patti get up even when she herself is in pain. She is anxious for the girl not making it to the hospital. The two stick together as they crashed together after an attack on their spaceship and have to return to Earth together. ",
"Patti is implied to have a caring role over Judith, such as a governess that can also be seen as a nurse or protector. Patti is helping take care of Judith as she is currently ill. She worries a great deal about Judith’s health and is doing everything possible to try to get her to help faster. They were previously on a ship together but it crashed. The trip was meant to be a vacation trip and the cruiser ship was owned by Judith’s father. Patti takes on a caring role for Judith as she tries to reassure her that the decision they made to leave early has been done. ",
"Judith and Patti Gray share a caring relationship. Patti Gray is a combination guard, nurse, and governess to the seventeen year old girl. Nurse Gray cares for Judith for most of the trip and constantly checks up on her to make sure her condition is not worse than it already is. The two of them are very close as well. When Judith feels guilty about the foolish stunt she causes and the consequences she faces, Gray tells her that it is not her fault because others have also experienced the same. Even though she could have chosen to stay until Roberds piloted the ship, she agreed to ask Rat to pilot the ship because of Judith’s choice of which pilot she wants to fly her. This action shows that she is very considerate of Judith’s opinions and wants.",
"Patti Gray is a maternal figure of sorts to Judith. She accompanies her on her trip to Mars, and when Judith becomes ill, Patti becomes her caretaker, aided by her nursing skills. Patti Gray looks after Judith, staying by her side throughout the night and then joining her on the ship when Rat comes to retrieve them. Judith is young, only seventeen, and because of this looks to Patti when she is ill, calling for her several times on the ship."
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acknowledged with a grin. "Why don't you fill out this questionnaire incognito, though?" she suggested. "Pretend that we're wealthy and see if they try to get our money. Do they have anything yet except your name and address?" Don was shocked. "If I send this back to them, it will have to be with correct answers!" "The scientific attitude again," Betty sighed. "Don't you ever let your imagination run away with the facts a bit? What are you going to give for your reasons for asking about POSAT?" "Curiosity," he replied, and, pulling his fountain pen from his vest pocket,
What is POSAT? By PHYLLIS STERLING SMITH Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction September 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Of course coming events cast their shadows before, but this shadow was 400 years long! The following advertisement appeared in the July 1953 issue of several magazines: MASTERY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE CAN BE YOURS! What is the secret source of those profound principles that can solve the problems of life? Send for our FREE booklet of explanation. Do not be a
rent between their world and his. "Ed!" Janet Loyce backed away nervously. "What is it? What—" Ed Loyce slammed the door behind him and came into the living room. "Pull down the shades. Quick." Janet moved toward the window. "But—" "Do as I say. Who else is here besides you?" "Nobody. Just the twins. They're upstairs in their room. What's happened? You look so strange. Why are you home?" Ed locked the front door. He prowled around the house, into the kitchen. From the drawer under the sink he slid out the big butcher knife and ran his finger along
edge, and birds as delicate as colored glass wavered down the wind. He opened the shelter door and went out. The shelter looked the same, but useless now. How did the shelter of that bleak world get into this one, where the air was warm and fragrant, where there was no cold, from that world into this one of his dreams? The girl—Helene—was standing there leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. He walked toward her, and stopped. In the dream it had been easy, but now he was embarrassed, in spite of the intimacy that had grown between them.
into them. She was just arriving back into the living room, tying the cord of her dressing gown about her slim waist, when she heard the sound of the police siren out front. THE END Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction July 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
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What is the importance of the crashing of the ship of Judith's father?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Prison Planet by Wilson Tucker.
Relevant chunks:
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
except rain?" His attention returned to the matter at hand. Why the baby talk? And why was his memory so hazy? How long had he been here? What had he been doing during that time? Listlessly he reached for the towel at his elbow and wiped the moisture from his face and bare shoulders. The air conditioning had gone out when the scout ship cracked up. He'd have to repair the scout or he was stuck here for good. He remembered now that he had gone over the job very carefully and thoroughly, and had found it too big to
the depths of the Earth. "Finally, the dreams of the ESPs, which agree overwhelmingly in the following points: A group of beings separate themselves from a godlike and telepathic race because they insist on maintaining a degree of mental privacy. They flee in great boats or ships of some sort. They are pursued on such a scale that there is no hiding place for them anywhere in the universe. In some manner they successfully camouflage their ships. Eons pass and their still-fanatical pursuers do not penetrate their secret. Then, suddenly, they are detected." Edmund waited. "Do you see what I'm
the hovering ship swung open creakily. A beefy, black-haired young man appeared unsteadily in the doorway, called to Dylan. "C'n I go now, Jim?" Dylan turned and nodded. "Be back for you tonight," the young man called, and then, grinning, he yelled "Catch" and tossed down a bottle. The captain caught it and put it unconcernedly into his pocket while Rossel stared in disgust. A moment later the airlock closed and the ship prepared to lift. "Was he drunk ?" Rossel began angrily. "Was that a bottle of liquor ?" The soldier was looking at him calmly, coldly. He indicated
Question:
What is the importance of the crashing of the ship of Judith's father?
Answer:
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[
"The crashing of the ship brings Judith and Patti to Mars where they meet two miners and then the whole crew of the spaceship including Rat. Judith wouldn't get that sick and lose the means to return to Earth if the ship didn't crash. The miners wouldn't suffer after helping the girls. Therefore, Judith wouldn't learn the lesson of breaking the law and leaving Earth. The crashing also leads to the necessity of Rat piloting the ship and all the party suffering from heat and thirst. The whole situation of danger and limitless occurs because the ship crashed and the girl gets sick on Mars, so she needs to get to Earth immediately. ",
"The ship crashed because Judith was piloting the ship and began to experience the symptoms of her appendicitis. It is unknown whether Judith’s father survived the crash. It is implied that the man that Rat helped in the desert is perhaps Judith’s father. Rat helping that man is what caused him to be declared AWOL and why he might have authorities after him for his failure to report to duty. If the ship had not crashed then Judith’s father would not have been alone and injured in the desert, and Rat would not have been AWOL trying to help the man. ",
"The crashing of the ship of Judith’s father is what sets up the story. Nurse Gray explains that Judith took her father’s cruiser as a pleasure jaunt and came over. Although the ship is supposed to be large and easy to handle, the journey ended after Judith lost control of the ship because of an attack of space-appendicitis. The ship's crashing is what leads her to be on Mars, and it is also the cause of her illness because she has not gone through the same mill that the men who live and work there have gone through. This past event also sets up the current events of Rat speed-driving the ship back to Earth to save her life. ",
"Judith's father's ship crashing leaves Judith and Patti Gray stranded on Mars. She initially wanted to recklessly travel to Mars, Gray coming along with her, and used her father's ship because it was easy to navigate. However, she was soon attacked by space-appendicitis and lost control of the ship, causing it to crash. This is significant because Judith and Patti Gray no longer have a way home, with Judith's illness becoming worse. They are desperate to return to Earth and thus resort to taking the ship with Rat as their pilot. "
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events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
except rain?" His attention returned to the matter at hand. Why the baby talk? And why was his memory so hazy? How long had he been here? What had he been doing during that time? Listlessly he reached for the towel at his elbow and wiped the moisture from his face and bare shoulders. The air conditioning had gone out when the scout ship cracked up. He'd have to repair the scout or he was stuck here for good. He remembered now that he had gone over the job very carefully and thoroughly, and had found it too big to
the depths of the Earth. "Finally, the dreams of the ESPs, which agree overwhelmingly in the following points: A group of beings separate themselves from a godlike and telepathic race because they insist on maintaining a degree of mental privacy. They flee in great boats or ships of some sort. They are pursued on such a scale that there is no hiding place for them anywhere in the universe. In some manner they successfully camouflage their ships. Eons pass and their still-fanatical pursuers do not penetrate their secret. Then, suddenly, they are detected." Edmund waited. "Do you see what I'm
the hovering ship swung open creakily. A beefy, black-haired young man appeared unsteadily in the doorway, called to Dylan. "C'n I go now, Jim?" Dylan turned and nodded. "Be back for you tonight," the young man called, and then, grinning, he yelled "Catch" and tossed down a bottle. The captain caught it and put it unconcernedly into his pocket while Rossel stared in disgust. A moment later the airlock closed and the ship prepared to lift. "Was he drunk ?" Rossel began angrily. "Was that a bottle of liquor ?" The soldier was looking at him calmly, coldly. He indicated
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What happens to Patti Gray throughout the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about Prison Planet by Wilson Tucker.
Relevant chunks:
proud of the apartment. It had all the modern conveniences, like the needle shower with the perfume dispenser, the built-in soft-drink bar in the library, the all-communications set, and the electrical massager. It was a nice, comfortable setup, an illusion of security in an ever-changing world. She lit a cigarette and chuckled. Mrs. Burger, the fat old landlady, thought she kept up the apartment by working as a buyer for one of the downtown stores. Well, maybe some day she would. But not today. And not tonight. The phone rang and she answered in a casual tone. She talked for
the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone. He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time? He returned
hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out.
rent between their world and his. "Ed!" Janet Loyce backed away nervously. "What is it? What—" Ed Loyce slammed the door behind him and came into the living room. "Pull down the shades. Quick." Janet moved toward the window. "But—" "Do as I say. Who else is here besides you?" "Nobody. Just the twins. They're upstairs in their room. What's happened? You look so strange. Why are you home?" Ed locked the front door. He prowled around the house, into the kitchen. From the drawer under the sink he slid out the big butcher knife and ran his finger along
Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got "Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing. By whom—her boy friend? Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend
Question:
What happens to Patti Gray throughout the story?
Answer:
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[
"The story starts with Patti looking after the sick girl. She hears the dispute of the crew about the future steps and gets involved. She learns out about Rat's past and the mistake of leaving his post which led to a massacre. Nevertheless, she and the girl decide to ask him to pilot the ship, hoping it will help the sick get on Earth in time. Patti gets sympathetic towards Rat from the beginning and keeps trying to talk to him. She keeps being by Judith. Rat bring her to the hammocks on his wings and she is frightened for a second. She follows his orders and advices until her suffering gets intense. During the trip with Rat as a pilot she has to drink only twice a day to keep water and she feels extremely thirsty. She also hurts herself when the ship suddenly moves from one side to another. Water tastes like fuel to her and she gets mad at Rat for not naming the amount of days. Then she learns about Rat's point of view on the past situation with the massacre and becomes even more sympathetic towards him. ",
"Patti Gray is in a room listening to an argument when she hears Judith moaning from a different room and goes to tend to her aid. After attending to Judith she goes back to talk to Roberds. She informs Patti that Rat went AWOL during a very important battle. The Chief Consul explains that unrelated politics is what saved Rat from execution for abandoning his post. After her inquiry about Rat, Patti says goodnight to everyone and returns to her room for the night. Patti secretly converses with Rat and asks him to fly Judith and her to Earth right away instead of waiting for Roberds. Rat agrees to do so and flies Judith to the ship. After Rat grabs and takes Judith to the ship, Patti anxiously awaits for him to return. He eventually returns and flies her to the ship too. When they get to the ship Patti reassures Judith that there is no use in mulling over the decision to take the ship now and tries to calm her down. \n\nBecause Rat pilots the ship to a very fast takeoff, Patti, Judith, and Gladney pass out due to the forces. Patti eventually wakes up and is surprised to find out how long she was out, she then begins to talk to Rat. During the trip, Patti becomes thirsty because of the very limited supply of water and she becomes irritated when Rat tells her she cannot drink more water. She grows increasingly upset about the conditions on the ship. When informed by Gladney that Rat is traveling at an excessive speed without necessary breaking, Patti tells Rat that he needs to explain how he is going to deaccelerate. She’s interrupted when they suddenly spot Earth. She goes to get Rat water as requested but returns to tell him that there is no more water left. \n",
"Throughout the story, Patti Gray is forced to endure many of the harsh conditions on the ship while having to take care of her patients. She initially mentions that she was once part of the Fleet and is used to harsh conditions. However, Nurse Gray is also never able to sleep more than three hours due to her patients and having to constantly check up on their conditions whenever they are in pain. Although Nurse Gray is determined and confident to see Judith get better, there are also parts where she begins to lose her sanity. She is upset that there is only one tank of boiling hot water and the difficulty of getting into a hammock in space. Later, as their journey reaches the end, Nurse Gray begins to go mad from the horrid conditions on the ship and falls face-first onto the floor. Once the end is near, and with some support from Rat, she is extremely happy to see Earth again. Nurse Gray is also able to calm down and resume asking Rat questions. ",
"Patti Gray is a nurse to Judith on Mars. She updates Peterson and the Chief on Judith's status, and asks them about Rat and why he is not allowed to pilot the ship to Earth. Patti learns that Rat was involved in treason back when the Sansan massacre happened. Later that night, Patti finds Rat and asks him to pilot the ship to Earth as soon as possible. Rat later retrieves Judith and Patti and takes them aboard the ship, where they take off. Rat and Patti talk on the ship, asking each other questions, and Patti faces several hardships on the ship, including the lack of water and the uncomfortable temperature. As the journey continues, it becomes unbearable for Patti."
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proud of the apartment. It had all the modern conveniences, like the needle shower with the perfume dispenser, the built-in soft-drink bar in the library, the all-communications set, and the electrical massager. It was a nice, comfortable setup, an illusion of security in an ever-changing world. She lit a cigarette and chuckled. Mrs. Burger, the fat old landlady, thought she kept up the apartment by working as a buyer for one of the downtown stores. Well, maybe some day she would. But not today. And not tonight. The phone rang and she answered in a casual tone. She talked for
the librarian's desk. She waited statuesquely while the librarian processed it, then tucked it under her arm and whisked out the door into the misty April night. As soon as she disappeared, Quidley stepped over to the T's and took Taine down once more. Just as he had suspected. The makeshift bookmark was gone. He remembered how the asdf-;lkj exercise had given way to several lines of gibberish and then reappeared again. A camouflaged message? Or was it merely what it appeared to be on the surface—the efforts of an impatient typing student to type before his time? He returned
hordes of colorful characters; the handsome virile hero, the compelling Helenesque heroine.... God, it was going to be great! The best thing he'd ever done! See, already there was a crowd of book lovers in front of the bookstore, staring into the window where the new Herbert Quidley was on display, trying to force its way into the jammed interior.... Cut to interior. FIRST EAGER CUSTOMER: Tell me quickly, are there any more copies of the new Herbert Quidley left? BOOK CLERK: A few. You don't know how lucky you are to get here before the first printing ran out.
rent between their world and his. "Ed!" Janet Loyce backed away nervously. "What is it? What—" Ed Loyce slammed the door behind him and came into the living room. "Pull down the shades. Quick." Janet moved toward the window. "But—" "Do as I say. Who else is here besides you?" "Nobody. Just the twins. They're upstairs in their room. What's happened? You look so strange. Why are you home?" Ed locked the front door. He prowled around the house, into the kitchen. From the drawer under the sink he slid out the big butcher knife and ran his finger along
Taine to the shelf. After learning from the librarian that the girl's name was Kay Smith, he went out and got in his hardtop. The name rang a bell. Halfway home he realized why. The typing exercise had contained the word "Cai", and if you pronounced it with hard c, you got "Kai"—or "Kay". Obviously, then, the exercise had been a message, and had been deliberately inserted in a book no average person would dream of borrowing. By whom—her boy friend? Quidley winced. He was allergic to the term. Not that he ever let the presence of a boy friend
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What leads Escher and MacDonald’s meeting in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Girls From Earth by Frank M. Robinson.
Relevant chunks:
Appointment in Tomorrow BY FRITZ LEIBER Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction July 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Is it possible to have a world without moral values? Or does lack of morality become a moral value, also? The first angry rays of the sun—which, startlingly enough, still rose in the east at 24 hour intervals—pierced the lacy tops of Atlantic combers and touched thousands of sleeping Americans with unconscious fear, because of their unpleasant similarity to the rays from
Well, naturally Kaiser would transmit baby talk messages to his mother ship! He was— GROWING UP ON BIG MUDDY By CHARLES V. DE VET Illustrated by TURPIN [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction July 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Kaiser stared at the tape in his hand for a long uncomprehending minute. How long had the stuff been coming through in this inane baby talk? And why hadn't he noticed it before? Why had he had to read this last communication a third time
PRIME DIFFERENCE By ALAN E. NOURSE Illustrated by SCHOENHEER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Being two men rolled out of one would solve my problems—but which one would I be? I suppose that every guy reaches a point once in his lifetime when he gets one hundred and forty per cent fed up with his wife. Understand now—I've got nothing against marriage or any thing like that. Marriage is great. It's a good old red-blooded American Institution.
Yesterday House By FRITZ LEIBER Illustrated by ASHMAN [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction August 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Meeting someone who's been dead for twenty years is shocking enough for anyone with a belief in ghosts—worse for one with none! I The narrow cove was quiet as the face of an expectant child, yet so near the ruffled Atlantic that the last push of wind carried the Annie O. its full length. The man in gray flannels and sweatshirt let the sail
a long journey, the first part of which already lay behind him. He had to go to Tunney 21 to see a man. That man wasn't important to anyone save the company that employed him, and possibly not even to them. The thug trailing him wouldn't be interested in Cassal himself, his mission, which was a commercial one, nor the man on Tunney. And money wasn't the objective, if Dimanche's analysis was right. What did the thug want? Secrets? Cassal had none, except, in a sense, Dimanche. And that was too well kept on Earth, where the instrument was invented
Question:
What leads Escher and MacDonald’s meeting in the story?
Answer:
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[
"They are meeting because currently, there are not as many females on the colonized planets. And this is a huge problem. From the beginning of the colonization, there were more adventuresome males than females, thus they headed for the new world but most of the females stayed behind. The disproportional rate in the genders that gone to colonies lead to five females for every three males on Earth, while the colonies have the opposite. Hence, those girls needs to be shipped from their original planet, in this case the Earth, to colony planets for those males there. However, not many girls are applying to go. Another problem, states MacDonald, is the number of men applying for emigration to colonized planets have been dropping. MacDonald considers this reasonable since it seems illogical for a male to move away from a place that has more females than males. Escher then disregards the qualification for colonization and decides to focus on making the people that don’t want to colonize to colonize, whether it is through convincing or forcing. ",
"MacDonald and Escher meet because the Colonization Board has given MacDonald a blank check to get Escher to fix the gender ratio problem. The Colonization Board is worried about the effects that the gender ratio is having on Earth and the great psychological implications that it presents. They are concerned because it is also becoming more difficult to convince men to colonize planets because they do not want to leave Earth where they are easily favored by women due to their rarity. They have a greater advantage on Earth with their pick of women who cannot be easy picky with their choices. ",
"Escher and MacDonald meet to discuss the problems on Earth and how to encourage more people to immigrate to the colonies. They go over the concerning ratio between the two genders on Earth as a result of the colonization problem. Many of the men were initially eager to go into the stars, but the women did not follow as quickly. Many of the women are husbandless too, and men are refusing to emigrate to the colonies because there are so many women on Earth. Furthermore, the women who have grown husbandless have made the societies more puritanical than ever. The Colonization Board is looking for a solution to this problem, which leads MacDonald and Escher to meet. ",
"Escher and MacDonald meet to discuss how to get women to come to the newly colonised planets. When the planets were first colonised, more men than women went, as they had more sense of adventure, and women didn't want to leave the luxury of Earth to go live on a makeshift farm on a muddy planet. The men on these colonised planets need wives however, and they have been given the task of finding a way to get these women on Earth over to these new planets. They try to think of a solution, and come up with one that is in a very much legal, and moral grey area. They decide to give every woman who commits a petty crime a very serious ultimatum. They can either spend ten years in jail and pay a fine of ten thousand dollars, or they can go to these colonises and get a five hundred dollar bonus. "
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Appointment in Tomorrow BY FRITZ LEIBER Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction July 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Is it possible to have a world without moral values? Or does lack of morality become a moral value, also? The first angry rays of the sun—which, startlingly enough, still rose in the east at 24 hour intervals—pierced the lacy tops of Atlantic combers and touched thousands of sleeping Americans with unconscious fear, because of their unpleasant similarity to the rays from
Well, naturally Kaiser would transmit baby talk messages to his mother ship! He was— GROWING UP ON BIG MUDDY By CHARLES V. DE VET Illustrated by TURPIN [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction July 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Kaiser stared at the tape in his hand for a long uncomprehending minute. How long had the stuff been coming through in this inane baby talk? And why hadn't he noticed it before? Why had he had to read this last communication a third time
PRIME DIFFERENCE By ALAN E. NOURSE Illustrated by SCHOENHEER [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Being two men rolled out of one would solve my problems—but which one would I be? I suppose that every guy reaches a point once in his lifetime when he gets one hundred and forty per cent fed up with his wife. Understand now—I've got nothing against marriage or any thing like that. Marriage is great. It's a good old red-blooded American Institution.
Yesterday House By FRITZ LEIBER Illustrated by ASHMAN [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction August 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Meeting someone who's been dead for twenty years is shocking enough for anyone with a belief in ghosts—worse for one with none! I The narrow cove was quiet as the face of an expectant child, yet so near the ruffled Atlantic that the last push of wind carried the Annie O. its full length. The man in gray flannels and sweatshirt let the sail
a long journey, the first part of which already lay behind him. He had to go to Tunney 21 to see a man. That man wasn't important to anyone save the company that employed him, and possibly not even to them. The thug trailing him wouldn't be interested in Cassal himself, his mission, which was a commercial one, nor the man on Tunney. And money wasn't the objective, if Dimanche's analysis was right. What did the thug want? Secrets? Cassal had none, except, in a sense, Dimanche. And that was too well kept on Earth, where the instrument was invented
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What is the setting of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Girls From Earth by Frank M. Robinson.
Relevant chunks:
on a dead planet, living in an atmosphere of carbon dioxide. The carbon dioxide brought him up sharp. If there had been life here once, there would have been plant life as well, and therefore oxygen. If the war had been so long ago that the free oxygen had since gone out of the atmosphere—good God, how old were the robots? Steffens looked at Ball, then at the silent robots, then out across the field to where the rest of them stood. The black wheat. Steffens felt a deep chill. Were they immortal? "Would you like to see a doctor?"
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
Question:
What is the setting of the story?
Answer:
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[
"The story first sets next to the river on Midplanet. The road connecting the river to the Landing City goes from forest to grassland, multiple small trails connects to the large one, leading towards the city. The Landing City is not really that big, especially comparing to Altair. The battered shack and headquarters building appears as they reach the Landing City. There is a grassy lot next to the landing field. The landing field is decorated with bunting and welcome signs. There is a table with government pamphlets as well as tables for luncheon food. \n\nInside Mr. Eescher’s room, there is an intercom switch, some seats, and on his desk, there was also a drawer. Phyllis’ in an office that has a typewriter which is put inside a drawer. There is a washroom along with a mirror where she notices her worry lines. She owns a small two-room bachelor-girl apartment, in the bathroom there’s a mirror. She is on the sofa reading a book when she throws it across the room. There’s also a mail slot where she finds the odd poster. Rudy is in shop, and there’s a dress laying on the counter. In a courtroom in the detention building, there’s a judge and he has a ledger with him. Suzanne’s apartment has needle shower with perfume dispenser, build-in soft-drink bar in the library, as well as all-communications set and electrical massager. There is also a telephone, and her bedroom has a hat box. She arrives at a brownstone office building, there’s a buzzer and a then a young man appears in the doorway. There are bright lights inside the room, and there was a battery of chairs against one side of the room where the girls are sitting. ",
"The story begins with Karl and Joseph working with water and trying to tie logs together. Karl describes the ground as being thick with shadows. When they finish their work, they walk on a trail through a forest towards Landing City. Landing City is described as having rusting, steel shacks with muddy streets. When they get to Landing City, they begin to line up on the landing field that is decorated with welcome signs in anticipation for the wife draft that is going to begin soon. There are tables on the landing field filled with informational pamphlets and food. \n\nWhen the story goes to Phyllis Hanson it details her leaving work and going to her apartment. Her apartment is a small two-room p[lace. \n\nRuby’s Johnson story begins at a clothing store. She is soon taken to a court for trial after she is caught stealing. \n\nSuzanne’s story is originally set at her apartment. After receiving a call, she leaves and walks to a nearby brownstone that looks like an office building. Once in the brownstone, she is instructed to sit in a room filled with chairs where other women that she recognizes are sitting. \n",
"The story begins near Landing City on Altair. There is a river in the thick forest where Hill and Karl work, while their tiny yllumphs nibble on grass in a nearby grove of trees. Landing City is a smudge of corrugated steel shacks that are rusting, muddy streets, and a small rocket port of thirty acres fenced off with barbed wire. Even the main office and headquarter is a dirty shack. The grassy field beside the landing port is decorated with huge welcome signs for the new arrivals. A table with luncheon food has also been set up. \n\nPhyllis Hansen has a typewriter on her desk and correspondence drawer at the office she works at. There is also a washroom for the ladies' to do their makeup. Her home is a two-room bachelor girl apartment, with a bathroom. The bathroom has a mirror and a shower. There is also a kitchen area to cook, a sink to do the dishes, books, and a sofa to sit on. There is a mail slot to receive mail in too. \n\nRuby Johnson's story takes place in a department store with many counters, including a lingerie one that a man and woman are in. There is also a counter from which Ruby takes the dress. Later, she is sent to the detention center and the courtroom. \n\nFinally, Suzanne Carsten's 'rented' apartment has the latest conveniences, such as a needle shower and perfume dispenser. There is also a built-in soft drink bar in the library, an all-communications set, and an electrical massager. The building that she goes to later is a brownstone one, resembling more of an office building than anything else. Inside, there is a battery of chairs on one side, where many other women are seated. ",
"The story is set in many different places. The story begins on the newly colonised planet, where Karl and Joseph are in a river. They haul themselves out and make their way to the ramshackle city of the area. It is muddy and the buildings are mostly makeshift huts. \nMr. Macdonald and Mr. Escher discuss their issue in the office building of the colonisation board.\nPhyllis Hanson walks home after taking a trip to the bathroom in her office. At home, she goes into the kitchen to make dinner, gets ready for bed in the bathroom and finally curls up on the sofa to read a book. \nRuby Johnson movies from a brightly lit department store, to a courtroom in her part of the story. \nSuzanne begins her story in her comfortable apartment. It has a needle shoer that sprays perfume, a built-in soft drink bar, a library, an all communications set and a massage chair. She then walks the streets to an unusual brownstone office building, where she is taken inside, to a brightly lit room. "
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on a dead planet, living in an atmosphere of carbon dioxide. The carbon dioxide brought him up sharp. If there had been life here once, there would have been plant life as well, and therefore oxygen. If the war had been so long ago that the free oxygen had since gone out of the atmosphere—good God, how old were the robots? Steffens looked at Ball, then at the silent robots, then out across the field to where the rest of them stood. The black wheat. Steffens felt a deep chill. Were they immortal? "Would you like to see a doctor?"
many days?" His only answer was an inhuman snarl, and the cruel blazing of those inhuman eyes. She fell face first to the floor. "I can't keep it up!" she cried. The sound of her voice rolled along the hot steel deck. "I cant! I cant!" A double handful of tepid water was thrown in her face. "Get up!" Rat stood over her, face twisted, his body hunched. "Get up!" She stared at him, dazed. He kicked her. "Get up!" The tepid water ran off her face and far away she heard Judith calling.... She forced herself up. Rat was
and didn't look at her. "You'll have to spend most of the trip in a hammock." "I can take it." Suddenly she smiled, wanly. "I was with the Fleet. How long will it take?" "Eight days, in that ship." Roberds lit his pipe, and carefully hid his emotions. He knew Peterson was harboring the same thoughts. Eight days in space, in a small ship meant for two, and built for planetary surface flights. Eight days in that untrustworthy crate, hurtling to save the lives of that girl and Gladney. "Who was that ... man? The one you put out?" Gray
The Beast-Jewel of Mars By V. E. THIESSEN The city was strange, fantastic, beautiful. He'd never been there before, yet already he was a fabulous legend—a dire, hateful legend. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] He lay on his stomach, a lean man in faded one piece dungarees, and an odd metallic hat, peering over the side of the canal. Behind him the little winds sifted red dust into his collar, but he could not move; he could only
asked. "We call him Rat," Roberds said. She didn't ask why. She said: "Why couldn't he pilot the ship, I mean? What is his record?" Peterson opened his mouth. "Shut up, Peterson!" the Chief snapped. "We don't talk about his record around here, Miss Gray. It's not a pretty thing to tell." "Stow it, Chief," said Peterson. "Miss Gray is no pantywaist." He turned to the nurse. "Ever hear of the Sansan massacre?" Patti Gray paled. "Yes," she whispered. "Was Rat in that?" Roberds shook his head. "He didn't take part in it. But Rat was attached to a very
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What are some odd things that happened in the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Girls From Earth by Frank M. Robinson.
Relevant chunks:
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
up. It was light, much lighter than most Earth books. He ran a hand over the binding. Smooth it was, untouched by time or climate. He squinted at the pages, tilting the book to catch the bright moonlight, but the writing was alien. He touched the page, ran his forefinger over the writing. Suddenly he sprang back. The book fell from his hands. "God in heaven!" he exclaimed. He had heard a voice. He looked around at the old buildings, down the length of the ancient street. Something strange about the voice. Not Maota. Not his tones. Not his words.
the ship's mechanical diagnostician. His report followed: ARM SWOLLEN. UNABLE TO KEEP DOWN FOOD LAST TWELVE HOURS. ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO, ENTIRE BODY TURNED LIVID RED. BRIEF PERIODS OF BLANKNESS. THINGS KEEP COMING AND GOING. SICK AS HELL. HURRY. SMOKY The ship's next message read: INFECTION QUITE DEFINITE. BUT SOMETHING STRANGE THERE. GIVE US ANYTHING MORE YOU HAVE. SS II His own reply perplexed Kaiser: LAST LETTER FUNNY. I NOT UNDERSTAND. WHY IS OO SENDING GARBLE TALK? DID USNS MAKE UP SECRET MESSAGES? SMOKY The expedition, apparently, was as puzzled as he: WHAT'S THE MATTER, SMOKY? THAT LAST MESSAGE WAS
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
Satisfied that no one was near, he stooped and picked up the book again. "Good God!" he said aloud. It was the book talking. His fingers had touched the writing again. It was not a voice, exactly, but a stirring in his mind, like a strange language heard for the first time. A talking book. What other surprises were in the city? Tall, fragile buildings laughing at time and weather. A clock measuring God-knows-what. If such wonders remained, what about those already destroyed? One could only guess at the machines, the gadgets, the artistry already decayed and blown away to
Question:
What are some odd things that happened in the story?
Answer:
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[
"Phyllis Hanson has been wanting a husband and a family for almost three years. She does not think that the bridge games and benefits and lectures can replace a husband and family. However, in her mail today, she gets a poster that tells her to come to the colonies. This is clearly a violation of her privacy. However, the man on the poster is very handsome, and she looks at it again and again. Though she admires the man on the poster, she still writes a letter reporting it. Then Ruby Johnson also goes through something strange. She steals a beautiful gown from the store and then gets caught. She knows that she will simply face a small fine along with a few weeks or months in detention because she was caught stealing dress from the . However, to her surprised, she is told that she be charged with a 10,000 dollar fine along with ten years in prison, or she can choose to go to a colony planet and get a five-hundred-dollar bonus. She is shocked, but chooses the latter. Similarly, Suzanne is given a similar choice between shipping out to the colony or going to jail after receiving a phone call telling her to get to a specific place. She also chooses the colony planet. ",
"MacDonald notes that because of the higher population of women on Earth than men, a lot stricter laws have been enacted. An example includes a prohibition of alcohol from being used in everyday items such as cough medicines and hair tonics. In addition, there are laws against violating a women’s privacy and a purity related moral code. An example of a privacy violation is when a woman asks Phyllis Hanson about her plans for the night. ",
"One of the odd things that happen in the story is the whole process of pairing up a husband and wife. The system is based on numbers as first impressions; although this seems to be an efficient way, Karl notices that there is almost no time for him and his future wife to get acquainted with one another. This is rather odd because many of them want to marry for love, yet the system caters to an arranged marriage rather than a natural relationship. Hill even brings up trading women if they are not satisfied with who they get.\n\nAnother odd occurrence in the story is how both men and women do not want to emigrate to the colonies. There are clearly more men in the colonies, yet many choose to stay on Earth because more women are there. None of the women want to go either; if they decide to leave Earth to colonize, it will be the same as giving up their luxurious, modern civilization to fight disease. \n",
"There are many odd things that happen in the story. The story itself is quite odd in form. It jumps from different times in one linear storyline, beginning at the end, and ending towards the beginning. It is also quite odd that the two men on the colonised planet think that women should be subservient, and that if you start to treat a woman with kindness and respect, and not as a servant, she will end up being spoiled. Another interesting part of the story is the nondescript place which Suzanne Carstens walks to. We are not really informed as to whether or not Ms Carstens is a prostitute, although it is insinuated. \n"
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events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
up. It was light, much lighter than most Earth books. He ran a hand over the binding. Smooth it was, untouched by time or climate. He squinted at the pages, tilting the book to catch the bright moonlight, but the writing was alien. He touched the page, ran his forefinger over the writing. Suddenly he sprang back. The book fell from his hands. "God in heaven!" he exclaimed. He had heard a voice. He looked around at the old buildings, down the length of the ancient street. Something strange about the voice. Not Maota. Not his tones. Not his words.
the ship's mechanical diagnostician. His report followed: ARM SWOLLEN. UNABLE TO KEEP DOWN FOOD LAST TWELVE HOURS. ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO, ENTIRE BODY TURNED LIVID RED. BRIEF PERIODS OF BLANKNESS. THINGS KEEP COMING AND GOING. SICK AS HELL. HURRY. SMOKY The ship's next message read: INFECTION QUITE DEFINITE. BUT SOMETHING STRANGE THERE. GIVE US ANYTHING MORE YOU HAVE. SS II His own reply perplexed Kaiser: LAST LETTER FUNNY. I NOT UNDERSTAND. WHY IS OO SENDING GARBLE TALK? DID USNS MAKE UP SECRET MESSAGES? SMOKY The expedition, apparently, was as puzzled as he: WHAT'S THE MATTER, SMOKY? THAT LAST MESSAGE WAS
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
Satisfied that no one was near, he stooped and picked up the book again. "Good God!" he said aloud. It was the book talking. His fingers had touched the writing again. It was not a voice, exactly, but a stirring in his mind, like a strange language heard for the first time. A talking book. What other surprises were in the city? Tall, fragile buildings laughing at time and weather. A clock measuring God-knows-what. If such wonders remained, what about those already destroyed? One could only guess at the machines, the gadgets, the artistry already decayed and blown away to
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What is the plot of the story?
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After carefully reading the provided chunks, write a detailed response to the following question about The Girls From Earth by Frank M. Robinson.
Relevant chunks:
"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
Question:
What is the plot of the story?
Answer:
|
[
"The story starts with Karl Allen, a Second System colonist, and Joe dragging their raft from the water, hoping that they will make it in time to put their names on the list. Later we learned that the list is used to pair up the females that are coming to their colony – planet – as husbands and wives. After Karl and Joe Hill finish, they still have about two hours left before the rocket lands at Landing City. On their way towards the Landing City, Karl caught himself wondering about the trip back with a girl whom he will be paired with. Apparently, they have never seen an Earthwoman, but tales seems to cherish them as hardworking and beautiful. The speaker announces that it’s time to draw their numbers. Karl draws 53. Later, Joe and Karl agrees to meet later to see if they want to trade the girls that has their numbers. \n\nMacDonald and Claude Escher meet to discuss matters regarding the ratios between male and female at the colonies. Currently, there are not as many females on the colonized planets. From the beginning of the colonization, there were more adventuresome males than females, they headed for the new world but most of the females stayed behind. Thus, there are five females for every three males on Earth, while the colonies have more males. Thus those girls needs to be brought from their original planet, in this case the Earth, to colonies for those males there. Another problem, states MacDonald, is the number of men applying for emigration to colonized planets have been dropping. MacDonald considers this reasonable since it seems illogical for a male to move away from a place that has more females than males. Escher then disregards the qualification for colonization and decides to focus on making the people that don’t want to colonize to colonize, whether it is through convincing or forcing. \n\nPhyllis Hanson is a thirty years old woman who desires a husband. The government’s supplement offering cannot replace a husband and family. Then in her mail today, she gets a poster that tells her to come to the colonies. Though she admires the man on the poster, she thought the poster is a violation of privacy. Then we see Ruby Johnson stealing a beautiful gown from the store and then getting caught. Ruby thinks that she will simply face a small fine along with a few weeks or months in detention and that’s it. She seems to have shoplifted many times that she even knows the information that the officers want. However, to her surprised, she will be charged with a 10,000 dollar fine along with ten years in prison, or she can choose to go to a colony planet and get a five-hundred-dollar bonus. She was shocked, but chooses the latter. Similarly, Suzanne is given a similar choice between shipping out to the colony or going to jail. She also chooses the colony planet. ",
"Karl Allen and Joseph Hill are doing hard work on a boat and complaining about the lack of help they are receiving. After finishing her work, Karl begins to walk along a trail and thinks about the wife draft. They continue along the trail towards Landing City where they have to walk through varying crowds and navigate the muddy streets of the city. Karl and Joseph eventually see a crowd of people in front of the rocket port office and go to inspect what is causing the commotion. The familiar poster shows a beautiful woman from Earth being advertised on the poster. They hear an announcement and follow its instructions to assemble in a line with their numbers for the wife draft. \n\nThe story switches to MacDonald and Claude Escher. MacDonald enters Escher’s office and tells Escher that the departure of men from Earth to the different colonized planets has caused the ratio of women to be much higher than men, causing various issues on Earth. Escher thinks of a plan and decides that the strict qualifications for travels and need to be financially stable need to be removed. He considers using immoral methods as a solution to convince women to colonize other planets. \n\nThe story focuses on Phyliss Hanson. Phyllis finishes her job and heads to her home. She acknowledges to herself that she is not attractive while she looks at her reflection. She grows frustrated as she is 30 and longs to have a husband but she has no prospects. She receives a letter in the mail that presents an opportunity for her to solve her problem. She mails a reply to the return address in hopes of being matched with a husband. \n\nThe story then takes a look at Ruby Johnson. She sees an absolutely gorgeous gown in a store and enacts a plan to steal it. She is immediately caught by security when she steals it. She goes through the motions of the court which she has previous experience with doing. She expects a light sentence. The judge then informs her that she has 2 choices for her sentence: emigrate to a colony planet or go to jail for 10 years with a hefty fine attached. This is an example of the immoral method Escher is enacting. While shocked, she recognizes she is being played and agrees to go to a colony planet. \n\nSuzanne is the next woman-focused upon in the story. While admiring her apartment, she gets a call. Prompted by the call, she finishes getting dressed and leaves. She walks into a brownstone after being greeted by a young man. She is surprised and unhappy to see a group of women she recognizes sitting in a room. She sits down as instructed and the man addresses the room. The man presents a similar choice as the judge did to Ruby Johnson. When asked by the man, Suzanne tries to wittingly reply that she loves to travel, indicating she chooses to emigrate. \n",
"Karl Allen and Joseph Hill are working with parampa logs by heaving them up the river. They discuss how much time is left before they go to Landing City and register for a number on the list. They start talking about the possibilities with their future wives, including raising a family and taking care of a garden. None of them have ever met an Earthwoman, but there are many stories about the pretty women. Once in Landing City, they go to the rocket port office and headquarters for the colonial office on Midplanet. Karl draws the number 53 and gets a few pamphlets with helpful information. He gets a sandwich and Pop from a boy before wandering back to the main field to wait for the rocket as it arrives. The story cuts to a conversation between Claude Escher and Mr. MacDonald. They discuss the growing ratio between women and men. Women are now turning to more petty crime because they believe it will help them catch a husband on Earth. They discuss more problems, especially how women do not want to colonize and men do not want to emigrate to the colonies. Once MacDonald leaves, Escher goes through the rules set up by the Board and tries to think of a better solution. The story then cuts to Phyllis Hansen, who goes to the washroom to clean up after a day at work. She then heads home and is worried about not finding a husband. There are alternatives to spending her evenings, such as bridge, gossiping, or a similar organization to fill the void. As she goes through the mail, Phyllis receives a poster advertising for women to go to the colonies to find a husband. She is offended and believes it is a violation of privacy. However, later, she writes a letter to the address on the poster. After, the story cuts to Ruby Johnson stealing a dress from a shop. She believes that the coast is clear but is caught by a detective. The male judge at the detention center asks why she stole it, but she refuses to tell him. Ruby gives out her statistics to the judge; he tells her that she can either go to the penitentiary for ten years and pay a ten thousand dollar fine or go to one of the colonies for a five-hundred-dollar immigration bonus. Ruby agrees to be shipped out. The final woman is Suzanne Carstens, who rents her apartment by tricking her old landlady into believing she works as a buyer in one of the downtown stores. She receives a call and goes to the address promptly. Once she steps inside, she realizes that most of the women sitting in the chairs in the building are ones that she recognizes. Suzanne tries to explain herself, but even her name is fake. However, she is offered to be shipped out to the colonies for security or to face jail time. With no choice, she accepts the offer. \n",
"This story takes place in multiple facets of the same storyline. In the first part of the story, we meet Karl Allen and Joseph Hill, who are on one of the planets that have been colonised by Earth. They are waiting for the arrival of a shipment of women from Earth, who will become their future brides. There are more men in the colonies than there are women, and so the government has sent these shipments of women from Earth to marry these men. \nIn the second part of the story, Mr. Macdonald and Mr. Escher of the colonisation board try to come up with a plan on how to convince women to leave Earth, to go and live on these worlds that are just beginning to become civilised, and marry men they've never met. They eventually come up with the idea that the method they use to entrap these women into their plan does not have to be technically all that moral, and they may be able to cross a legal grey area. \nIn the third part of the story, Phyllis Hanson, a woman of Earth, returns home from work. She is in her thirties, and probably destined to be alone and unmarried for the rest of her life at this stage. That is until she receives a poster from an unknown source, with a picture of a strapping man, telling her to \"come to the colonies, the planets of romance\". She sends a letter to the address at the bottom of the poster. \nRuby Johnson is caught stealing a dress from a department store. At her criminal hearing, a judge sentences her to either ten years in prison, with a ten thousand dollar fine to work off, or a chance to go to the colonies, and get a five hundred dollar bonus. \nSuzanne Carstens leaves her gorgeous apartment one night to meet a blind date (or a John) it seems. She goes to an address that looks like an office building, where a young man greets her. She is taken into a room where she is held, along with many other women. They are all given the same ultimatum as Ruby Johnson. \nTHE END."
] |
51268
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"Well," he said, "before you kill me, tell me about the book." He held it up for Maota to see. "What about the book?" "What kind of book is it?" "What does Mr. Earthgod mean, what kind of book? You have seen it. It is like any other book, except for the material and the fact that it talks." "No, no. I mean, what's in it?" "Poetry." "Poetry? For God's sake, why poetry? Why not mathematics or history? Why not tell how to make the metal of the book itself? Now there is a subject worthy of a book." Maota
events of the day before dropping off to sleep. The troublesome Sally. The strange dream world of Armagon. The visit to the barber shop. The removal of Brundage's body. The conversations with the townspeople. Dawes' suspicious attitude ... Then sleep came. He was flanked by marble pillars, thrusting towards a high-domed ceiling. The room stretched long and wide before him, the walls bedecked in stunning purple draperies. He whirled at the sound of footsteps, echoing stridently on the stone floor. Someone was running towards him. It was Sally, pigtails streaming out behind her, the small body wearing a flowing white
enemy city of Grath was beautiful. Perhaps she would love him for helping to rescue her and come willingly with him to Konto. "I will help you, stranger," he agreed. "Then tell me of the Skull, and of the priests, and of the prison where Tholon Sarna is held." The slave's fingers flew. "All the young female slaves are caged together in the pit beneath the Skull. When the sun is directly overhead the High Priest will choose one of them for sacrifice to mighty Uzdon, most potent of all gods. And with the dawning of the next day the
aunts tell me I was born there in the middle of the war." "What war?" he asked startledly, spilling some lemonade. "The World War, of course. What's the matter?" Jack Barr was staring down at the spilled lemonade and feeling a kind of terror he'd never experienced in his waking life. Nothing around him had changed. He could still feel the same hot sun on his shoulders, the same icy glass in his hand, scent the same lemon-acid odor in his nostrils. He could still hear the faint chop-chop of the waves. And yet everything had changed, gone dark and
tightening of the man's shoulder muscles that his presence was known. He looked down and saw that his feet made clear-cut depressions in the soft rich soil of the field. "Continue to work," he said to the young man. "Do not be too surprised at what I am about to tell you, Rold." He paused and watched the golden man's rather stupid face intently. "I am not a Misty One," Noork said. "I killed the owner of this strange garment I wear yesterday on the mainland. I have come to rescue the girl, Tholon Sarna, of whom you spoke." Rold's
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