LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

one person but the lives of many depend on it. I know how you feel but I'm powerless to help you. I'll have you connected with Ship's Records."

      The communicator faded to a faint rustle of sound and he turned back to the girl. She was leaning forward on the bench, almost rigid, her eyes fixed wide and frightened.

      "What did he mean, to go through with it? To jettison me ... to go through with it—what did he mean? Not the way it sounded ... he couldn't have. What did he mean ... what did he really mean?"

      Her time was too short for the comfort of a lie to be more than a cruelly fleeting delusion.

      "He meant it the way it sounded."

      "No!" She recoiled from him as though he had struck her, one hand half upraised as though to fend him off and stark unwillingness to believe in her eyes.

      "It will have to be."

      "No! You're joking—you're insane! You can't mean it!"

      "I'm sorry." He spoke slowly to her, gently. "I should have told you before—I should have, but I had to do what I could first; I had to call the Stardust. You heard what the commander said."

      "But you can't—if you make me leave the ship, I'll die."

      "I know."

      She searched his face and the unwillingness to believe left her eyes, giving way slowly to a look of dazed terror.

      "You—know?" She spoke the words far apart, numb and wonderingly.

      "I know. It has to be like that."

      "You mean it—you really mean it." She sagged back against the wall, small and limp like a little rag doll and all the protesting and disbelief gone. "You're going to do it—you're going to make me die?"

      "I'm sorry," he said again. "You'll never know how sorry I am. It has to be that way and no human in the universe can change it."

      "You're going to make me die and I didn't do anything to die for—I didn't do anything—"

      He sighed, deep and weary. "I know you didn't, child. I know you didn't—"

      "EDS." The communicator rapped brisk and metallic. "This is Ship's Records. Give us all information on subject's identification disk."

      He got out of his chair to stand over her. She clutched the edge of the seat, her upturned face white under the brown hair and the lipstick standing out like a blood-red cupid's bow.

      "Now?"

      "I want your identification disk," he said.

      She released the edge of the seat and fumbled at the chain that suspended the plastic disk from her neck with fingers that were trembling and awkward. He reached down and unfastened the clasp for her, then returned with the disk to his chair.

      "Here's your data, Records: Identification Number T837—"

      "One moment," Records interrupted. "This is to be filed on the gray card, of course?"

      "Yes."

      "And the time of the execution?"

      "I'll tell you later."

      "Later? This is highly irregular; the time of the subject's death is required before—"

      He kept the thickness out of his voice with an effort. "Then we'll do it in a highly irregular manner—you'll hear the disk read, first. The subject is a girl and she's listening to everything that's said. Are you capable of understanding that?"

      There was a brief, almost shocked, silence, then Records said meekly: "Sorry. Go ahead."

      He began to read the disk, reading it slowly to delay the inevitable for as long as possible, trying to help her by giving her what little time he could to recover from her first terror and let it resolve into the calm of acceptance and resignation.

      "Number T8374 dash Y54. Name: Marilyn Lee Cross. Sex: Female. Born: July 7, 2160. She was only eighteen. Height: 5-3. Weight: 110. Such a slight weight, yet enough to add fatally to the mass of the shell-thin bubble that was an EDS. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Blue. Complexion: Light. Blood Type: O. Irrelevant data. Destination: Port City, Mimir. Invalid data—"

      He finished and said, "I'll call you later," then turned once again to the girl. She was huddled back against the wall, watching him with a look of numb and wondering fascination.

      "They're waiting for you to kill me, aren't they? They want me dead, don't they? You and everybody on the cruiser wants me dead, don't you?" Then the numbness broke and her voice was that of a frightened and bewildered child. "Everybody wants me dead and I didn't do anything. I didn't hurt anyone—I only wanted to see my brother."

      "It's not the way you think—it isn't that way, at all," he said. "Nobody wants it this way; nobody would ever let it be this way if it was humanly possible to change it."

      "Then why is it! I don't understand. Why is it?"

      "This ship is carrying kala fever serum to Group One on Woden. Their own supply was destroyed by a tornado. Group Two—the crew your brother is in—is eight thousand miles away across the Western Sea and their helicopters can't cross it to help Group One. The fever is invariably fatal unless the serum can be had in time, and the six men in Group One will die unless this ship reaches them on schedule. These little ships are always given barely enough fuel to reach their destination and if you stay aboard your added weight will cause it to use up all its fuel before it reaches the ground. It will crash, then, and you and I will die and so will the six men waiting for the fever serum."

      It was a full minute before she spoke, and as she considered his words the expression of numbness left her eyes.

      "Is that it?" she asked at last. "Just that the ship doesn't have enough fuel?"

      "Yes."

      "I can go alone or I can take seven others with me—is that the way it is?"

      "That's the way it is."

      "And nobody wants me to have to die?"

      "Nobody."

      "Then maybe—Are you sure nothing can be done about it? Wouldn't people help me if they could?"

      "Everyone would like to help you but there is nothing anyone can do. I did the only thing I could do when I called the Stardust."

      "And it won't come back—but there might be other cruisers, mightn't there? Isn't there any hope at all that there might be someone, somewhere, who could do something to help me?"

      She was leaning forward a little in her eagerness as she waited for his answer.

      "No."

      The word was like the drop of a cold stone and she again leaned back against the wall, the hope and eagerness leaving her face. "You're sure—you know you're sure?"

      "I'm sure. There are no other cruisers within forty light-years; there is nothing and no one to change things."

      She dropped her gaze to her lap and began twisting a pleat of her skirt between her fingers, saying no more as her mind began to adapt itself to the grim knowledge.

      It was better so; with the going of all hope would go the fear; with the going of all hope would come resignation. She needed time and she could have so little of it. How much?

      The EDS's were not equipped with hull-cooling units; their speed had to be reduced to a moderate level before entering the atmosphere. They were decelerating at .10 gravity; approaching their destination at a far higher speed than the computers had calculated on. The Stardust had been quite near Woden when she launched the EDS; their present velocity was putting them nearer by the second. There would be a critical point, soon to be reached, when he would have to resume deceleration. When he did so the girl's weight would be multiplied by the gravities of deceleration, would become, suddenly, a factor of paramount importance; the factor the computers had been ignorant of when they determined the amount of fuel the EDS should have. She would have to go when deceleration began; it could be no other way. When would

Скачать книгу