ONE AGAINST THE STARS-1
587 Words
ONE AGAINST THE STARS
BY VASELEOS GARSON
from
Planet Stories Summer 1944
Earth’s last hope against the vicious radio-plague. A gleaming ship racing to bring salvation back from Venus. And hidden on the ship a thirteenth man—a plague carrier whose touch brought screaming death.
- - - -
* * * *
THIS WAS IT. ITS SLIM bright shape was Earth’s last hope.
What matter the sweat, the blood and the tears that had gone into each rivet, every plate? What matter the eyes blurred and dulled with plans, blueprints? What matter the cost.
This was it.
It was done.
They stood there—the riveters, the welders; the draughtsmen, the engineers; the mathematicians, the technicians—and there glowed in their eyes a living flame.
This was the ship of hope.
Its rockets flickered into blue flames. Their soft purr of power deepened. Abruptly, the earth was trembling to the throaty roar of rockets.
In its long steel-rollered cradle, the ship trembled.
One of the workers, his denim trousers grease-stained, bending down, scooped up a handful of the dust at his feet, flung it at the shining ship.
“Just for luck,” he said.
In the glass bulge atop the shining ship, John Bairn, the pilot, licked feverish lips. He brushed the black hair away from his gray eyes. His stubby fingers raced over the keys of the control panel before him.
His right hand touched—almost reverently—the scarlet handle of the firing lever.
He pushed the lever forward one notch ... two ... three....
He braced himself in the hydraulic-cushioned pilot’s chair.
“Venus, here we come!”
The rockets roared faintly even in this sound-proofed cubicle. Then the pounding blood in his ears washed out all other sound. The pounding in his ears grew throatier, louder.
The 9G acceleration blacked him out.
That dive was a little too steep, he was thinking, first time I ever blacked out with somebody on my tail. He jerked his head around to see where the butcher was. And then he remembered.
He looked ahead. The stars were steady white flames in the black pool of space. Ah, there it was! The pale green flame that was Venus.
Somewhere, there, lay Earth’s salvation.
Arlington Arden, the metal expert, came into the cubicle then, his blond face pale.
“Some shove, huh?” he opined.
Bairn nodded, his gray eyes watched the orientation chart whose red and green and yellow lights were flickering in the rhythm that showed they were on the mathematically-charted course.
“Think the stuff is really there, Arlie?” Bairn questioned.
“We’re staking our lives on it, John.”
“Yeah, and the lives of a billion like us. What if it isn’t?”
“Venus’ spectrum shows its presence. It’s not an emanation that is easily duplicated. If it isn’t, it’s too much of a grim joke—because the money in this ship could have paid for a thousand experiments. My Mary’s got a touch of blue coloring in her skin—the first symptom, y’know.”
“Sorry,” Bairn said, and his voice was soft.
“Beautiful,” Arden said. “I hope Mary can see it sometime.” He was looking out at space, his arms clasped behind him. “It’s not like I thought, though—this being the first humans to see the stars away from earth.” He stopped.
“It’s so damn big and beautiful it hurts,” he said at last.
“Yeah, I know,” Bairn put in. “It makes guys like us feel cheap and small.”
“No!” The word was explosive. Bairn jerked around in the pilot’s cradle and stared. Arden had a frown on his forehead.
“And who in blue blazes are you?” Bairn snapped.
“Joe,” the big blocky youngster said, as if that explained everything.
“Joe, huh?” Bairn grunted. “How did you get on this ship?”
- - - -
- Writer
