 11. When the boys came into the dinette the next morning, their mother was humming happily as she prepared breakfast and greeted them with a cheery smile. Pop awake yet? John asked as he saw her mood. Nobody's sleeping so sweetly. I know he's alright, she answered. They sat down and began eating. After finishing, Jack said, Well we might as well go out and work some more on our town site. Call us when Pop wakes up will you please? John took a last sip of his juice concentrate. That'd be silly, Jack frowned. We know he can't come and help us so why should we run several miles back here when we can see him when we get back? John opened his mouth to reply, his eyes flashing almost angrily, but their mother interrupted quickly with a question. Boys, just why do you have to lay out such a sight? The board requires it, John answered shortly. In the early days of exploration, Jack explained more patiently, some of the space crews used to make their reports after Millie flying above the surface of the planets of a new system. In fact some of them didn't even go that close and Millie made up sketchy reports. Then, when colonists got there, John who had simmered down by now took up the explanation, they often found conditions very different and many times quite dangerous to them. Yes, sometimes they were even intelligent inhabitants who hadn't been reported so their planets couldn't be used for colonisation. So the board made this new ruling, Jack continued. Now we have to have so many photos taken from various heights and at different places all over the surface of each planet and each moon, more than 100 miles in diameter. And we have to lay out a town site on the most earth-like planet, mostly to show we actually have been there and spent some time there. And it really doesn't make any difference whether the people who come here to live use it or not. But we think they will use ours because we selected a place close to a river and the ocean, close to forests and fairly near minerals. Yes, you have done a wonderful job, I know that much about it. Well, we'll go out and recheck our lines, John said. I've been studying and experimenting with the Theodolite and I can. What is that? she asked. What's what? Oh, the Theodolite. That's a surveyor's telescope. I've learnt enough about it so I can tell if our lines have been run straight and as we were so carefully measuring the distances I'm quite sure they're fairly accurate. Yes, Jack chimed in. I'll bet none of them are more than an inch off of that. Optimist, John scoffed. I'd take that better way from you, only it'd be cheating an infant. Jack started to retort, then thought better of it and shut up. They left the ship soon, John carrying the surveying instrument over his shoulder and jacked the marker pole. Arrived at the nearest corner of their town site, John set the instrument down or Jack went on to the next stake. By means of the graduated circle attached just below the telescope and the plumb line suspended from it, John adjusted the collapsible legs until he felt sure it was correctly focused. Then as Jack went ahead from stake to stake, John took the sites to make sure each marker was centred on his crosshairs. The ones that were not, he indicated by hand signals and Jack reset them to left or right until John was satisfied. They completed all of one side before lunch then returned to the ship. They found their mother had opened both locked doors while they were gone and fresh crisp though warm air was circulating through the ship blowing out the old chemically pure yet stale feeling air their purifiers had been recirculating for so long. Their father was awake but still so weak he was making no attempt to sit fully up in bed although his wife had slipped an extra pillow beneath his head. Ho fellows! He greeted the boys as they came into the bunk room. How's the job coming? Just fine pop! We have the town site all laid out and now we're checking to make sure the lines are straight Jack told him. He frowned a bit. How did you manage it? Neither of you as a surveyor or have you learnt how to do that too? I think I've figured out the theodolite well enough to tell if our lines are straight and that's what we're using now John continued. I can't measure distances with it though. Jack explained more in detail how they had measured the blocks and street widths and rechecked them all. I can't see why it won't pass their father said when they finished. Probably no one will ever check it unless they actually use the site when the colonists come. It shows we were landed here long enough to do the work and that's the important thing. What about the rest of the mapping? I'll go get the papers. John ran out to return in a few minutes with a book of reports and the roles of film and prints they had made on all the planets and satellites. You can check these as you feel up to it Pop. And anything that looks wrong we can go back and recheck or do over. Mr Carver rifled quickly through the pages and saw that each question had been answered. Each measurement given an answer though whether correct or not of course he could not know. All the information required had been supplied at least. He gave the boys his old time grin. Even as he was shaking his head in wonder each chap certainly have done a job. Looks like I'll have to take the backseat from now on. No the two boys were shocked by that. Not on your life Pop. We maybe did fairly well but we need you just the same. I'll say we do Jack chimed in. There's so much yet you can teach us. Well we've only begun learning most of the things we want to know. Mr Carver smiled up at his sons. I'm always glad to tell you anything I can fellows. It's good to see you growing up though. He turned his head to face John more directly. What's that about a new system you rigged up so you can land and take off with only one switch? John explained and the two were soon deep in technical talk of electronic relays and cells and automatic switchovers. Finally Mrs Carver came in with a tray of lunch for her husband and told the boys their food was on the table. All right you chaps go and eat Mr Carver said. I'll take another nap while you're out this afternoon. Then maybe I'll feel up to talking to some more this evening and going over these reports with you. The second day later the boys finished their rechecking and came back to the ship in mid afternoon. Their father was again awake and they went in to see him. We're all done here Pop so let's say we go back to that fuel metal cache and see about getting the stuff aboard John asked. I guess from all you've said that's the most important thing now he agreed after a moment's consideration. Only thing is I've been wondering if you couldn't move me into the control room and fix a couch for me there. Sure that's easy Jack told him but John frowned and thought yes we can do it but we'll have to figure out first how to fasten the cot down and then make some arrangements so you can stand any acceleration we may have to use. How about fixing the co-pilot's seat into a bunk. Hey that's the ticket John brightened. He ran out and soon was helping his mother gather blanket sheets and pillows and going with Jack to bring an extra mattress from the storeroom. They set the seat to recline and then while Mrs Carver was making up the bed the boys carried their father for much lighter load now than when he had first been hurt and put him in his new bed. Say this is alright Mr Carver it's claimed after John had loaded the co-pilot's fizzy plate so his father could look into it without distortion or neck reining. All the comforts of home he grinned at his wife. She's stooped and kissed him. Be sure and let us know any time you get too tired there Mr C. I will honey he assured her but actually I'm so comfortable I don't see why I can't stay here as well as in bed until the leg's strong enough to start getting up. Everything else ready he watched anxiously then admiringly as John started the tubes firing balanced them and took them off with the throwing of his one switch. In his fizzy plate the elder man watched with intense interest the scenery over which they were passing. John had set course so they would go completely around this world of two until they came to that desert. Mr Carver made many enthusiastic comments about this splendid planet that now bore his wife's name. Yes and three's just as nice only colder John reported eagerly. Folks who like cold weather can live there without too much trouble at all. It's funny though Jack declared with a frown that there's no protoplasmic life there at all that we could find he hastened to add. Lots of vegetation though John added. That means the soil would be good for growing things doesn't it. It certainly sounds like it his father smiled. The colonists may have to adapt their earth seeds to fit and probably bring their own worms and bees and so on. But they should be able to farm there. From your surveys it appears there are plenty of minerals so they can start mines and factories of all kinds right away. Yes this looks like a pretty good solar system. You bet pop you sure picked a winner in this one. John's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. I had an idea from the spectroscopic examinations we made way back there near Sirius that we'd find it fairly good here. But to be honest I didn't dare hope it would be this good. To tell the truth I was really more interested in that line which seemed to indicate that fuel stuff than I was in new planets for colonisation. Although we needed those two to make the trip pay off. Before long they came above the beginning of that well-remembered desert and John slowed and circled preparatory to landing. John kept his eyes upon his instruments and when he saw they were close to the actual latitude and longitude he killed the speed to their slowest cruising range and their height to a few hundred yards. When he knew he was almost at the exact spot he stared intently into his pilot's magnifying busy plate. At the same time keeping his fingers totally on the landing switch. Soon in his plate he saw the top of that cash cover in the nearing distance. He circled until he judged he could land close to it and close the switch. Softly easily the space shot came into a landing on the hard packed sand and John shut off the power and put everything in neutral. His father had wisely kept silent during this manoeuvring but now he let out his breath in a whoosh. That's the neatest landing I ever saw he told John admiringly. That gadget of yours will make you a young fortune when we get back to Terra. John actually blushed with pleased embarrassment. Oh it's but Jack interrupted him almost fiercely. Don't go playing coy chubby you know damn well it's wonderful. Sure I do John laughed then and the rest joined in but you'd have trumped on me if I'd have been the one to say so. He turned quickly to face his father. What do we do about this? Hmm my suggestion would be for you to put on your suit and go out and open those covers you told me about. Give me the analyser first and I'll study the stuff's emanations when you get it uncovered. I'll go out Jack offered quickly. You and John had better study it together. I don't know anything about it but the kid does and he'll be the one to handle it until you're well. Better take the Jack that covers heavy remember John said and Jack ran out. I've never been able to do anything if it hadn't been for Jack's wiser advice John said honestly as he brought the analyser to his father from the instrument rack. I'm apt to go off half cocked you know. Mr Carver looked fondly up at his wife who moved quickly to his side and put her hand against his cheek. A couple of grandfellows you raised darling he said softly. We raised you mean Mr C. She smiled down at him. They fight all the time but when it comes to the pinch they work together and I know they really love and admire each other very much. John chuckled and spoke into the mic. The folks are taking our good names in vain Al. Yes I heard them came back the elder boy's voice from the speaker. If they only knew what we really think of each other and then followed his attempt to the sneering laugh. In their busy plates those inside the ship could see Jack in his spacesuit trotting awkwardly across the sand towards the cache. He carried the Jack and when he got there used it to raise the heavy cover and throw it back. He jumped into the hole and took the cover off the smaller box. Then scrambled quickly out and ran some distance away. Should I come back now or wait here to cover it again? He asked over his suit sender. Maybe you better wait out there a few minutes his father replied into the mic attached to his seat. If we can't figure out something in a fairly short time I'll tell you and you can recap the boxes and come back. He busied himself adjusting the analyzer and he and young John studied the lines carefully for quite a time. Finally the father roused. This is going to take a lot of study and work. He told his younger son that he spoke into the mic. Better come back in Jack. He turned his head again to face the boy with him. Did you find a lead box John? No sir we haven't anything like that in our stores John answered. But there is quite a roll of lead foil. Could we do anything with that? How much is there and how thick is it? The foil's 20 inches wide and about 12 feet long. John reported as he came back after a quick run to the store room to measure the foil. He had delayed a moment or two at the lock to help Jack out of his suit. It's a 30 second thick. Hmm that's not so good. Let's see. If we quadrupled it that would give us an eighth. No that's not enough. Better take a piece and fold it to at least eight thicknesses then go wrap it around a piece of that metal and bring it into the lock. That's not too much protection if the stuff's so strong as it pops. Well double that then but I think it'll keep the raise off you long enough to bring it in. Especially since you'll be in your suit and if you put on lead lined gloves. Alright John started out then turned back. What about the rest of it when we leave? Do we take it all with us? No slowly. I doubt if anyone else would find it and steal it before we get back. On the other hand the more we can take it back with us supposing we learn how to use it and it's as good as we think. The more we could get for it on terror to give another immediate state to come back. I have a thought Pop. Why not just weld fasten the whole big box it's in now to the outside of the ship and make a small box that will hold some to bring into the ship to experiment with? John's eyes blazed eagerly. That's a thought Jack exclaimed while their father answered more slowly. Yes I believe that could be done safely especially if we put it back near the stern. It's a ship close enough so the lock survey mechs can bring in the big box. I don't think so John answered after a searching look out of the port window but with our suits on Jack and I could carry it couldn't we? We've been close to the stuff several times for about as long as it'd take Jack added and it doesn't seem to hurt us any. Kind of a large box isn't it Mr Carver asked quizzically. Might be sort of heavy. The boys flushed and John picked up his slide roll and did some quick figuring. Then he announced Crestfallen. Great mackerel. I sure went off half bait that time. Okay I'll take the ship up and bring it down closer. That's mighty delicate manoeuvring his mother looked at him in astonishment. Sure you can do it. John shrugged. If I can't the first time I'll try again. His father had to smile at the boys confidence in himself but he merely said this I've got to watch. Assured everyone was safely strapped in. John started the tubes firing raised the ship into the air watching his plate closely as he circled about then came down again right beside and not over five feet from port lock to box. That's perfect his father cried delightedly watching in his plate. You're sure getting to be an expert pilot son and you're getting too excited and too tired from all this tad. Mrs Carver said determinedly. We'll have no more of it today. You boys go into the living room and you Mr C relax and take a nap. You can't have you getting sick again. The boys started to protest but their father grinned. Our mistress's voice boys and she's right I was trying too much. We're not in that big a hurry. John you and Jack go make a box to hold our specimen. They left him and in moments he was asleep from exhaustion. In the storeroom John found some pieces of one inch oak and Jack and he made up the box finishing just as their mother called them to dinner. It was a six inch cube sturdily fastened with plenty of screws strong enough to hold solid osmium. The lead foil was carefully fitted into the interior and was now 12 layers thick three eighths of an inch. That ought to do it Jack said and John agreed. Let's go out and fill it after we eat Jack was all eagerness. John shook his head not unless Pop says to. Now that he's awake I just don't like to make decisions. Jack grinned. You're right of course. Guess we got too big headed having to do things ourselves while he was unconscious. Yes we're still pretty inexperienced and I'm glad we don't have to figure things out now. Still we can't go back to depending too much on him Jack said thoughtfully. That way we'll never get the habit of thinking for ourselves and deciding and that would be bad. But about this I agree fully he added quickly as he saw his brother about to protest. Even if I don't know much about it I can see that this stuff's dangerous to monkey with. Their father awakened later much refreshed by his nap. After the boys had explained and exhibited their new box he agreed it would be alright for them to go out and get a single piece of the metal. Leave it in the lock though he added then in the morning maybe I'll feel like helping John study and experiment with it. The two boys ran to get into their suits and soon were outside carrying their lead lined box. They jumped into the large cash box after lifting off the lid and took the top from the inner one. They set the carrier beside it then ran back to the ship. With the distant hands John flipped a nugget into the small box and set it aside on the sand. Using the same survey mechanism he closed both covers. Then he brought the little box back and deposited it on the floor of the lock. The two boys took off their suits and hung them in the wall closet then went into the control room. You were right Pop we sure couldn't have handled the big box at all John Grinn still panting. Even the little one is really heavy with just one nugget in it. His father grinned back. I had an idea but thought I'd let you learn the hard way. Now maybe you'll remember it longer. Anyway we've got it in the lock and tomorrow if you feel up to it we can start experimenting. Just how big are the pellets? A little over half the size of our treated copper one John told him. We'll have to cut it before we try working with it. Jack having disposed of the used plastic from their suits had come into the control room and was listening interestedly as was their mother who was hovering near. Not quite sure if she liked the idea of her men folks fussing with this unknown but admittedly dangerous metal. That means we'll have to make and install a smaller injector too doesn't it John asked and when his father nodded he added I'll see about making it. Later when we've found out whether we can use the stuff. Right now we'd all better get some sleep. I'm bushed and I imagine you chaps are too. How about you Marcy Mr Carver turned to his wife. Well I could use some sleep she admitted. Right Pop. Good night. Night Mum. End of Chapter 11. Recording by Denise Milne since Solihull in England. Chapter 12 of The Planet Mappers. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. The Planet Mappers by Edward Everett Evans. Chapter 12. Early the next morning the boys were clamoring to get started, but their mother would not let them go into the control room. Now you listen to mother, she protested, using a favorite phrase of hers. Your father hasn't made any sign yet. You wait until he's awake and has had something to eat. I know how anxious you are to do all these things, but you must remember he isn't strong yet, and we must not let him overdo. He is as much a child about such things as you two are, but someone has to watch him. The boys laughed, rather shame-facedly. It's just we get so interested in things, Mum. John apologized. Yes, I know. But if you will look in your dictionary, you will find a word called moderation. She smiled. Never heard of it. John grinned as he went to get a real book on radioactives, and began studying. Jack, too, went back to studying and trying to classify the various specimens he had obtained from the two worlds. However, they soon remembered their usual duties, and whisked through their various chores about the ship, then went back to their absorbing occupations. They had been at these nearly an hour when they heard their father's voice. Dropping everything, they sprang toward the control room and found him wide awake and looking much better. Mrs. Carver came running in, and they were told, Feel fine. This is a wonderful bed. Seemed to be much stronger today, too. That's wonderful, Mr. C. I'll go get you some breakfast. John ran for a basin of water and towels, and he and Jack helped their father with his toilet. While you're eating, Pop, how about me cutting off that piece of the new metal so we can start studying it? How big a piece were you figuring on? Mr. Carver asked with that quizzical look. John flushed and mentally changed the size he'd planned to get. About a gram, he asked. I'd say more like a few milligrams, his father grinned. That's plenty for our initial studies and analyses, and shouldn't hurt us any if we're careful and wear insulation. But that's only pinhead size. Well, again quizzically, John flushed once more. Yes, that's big enough to test, I realize now. It's a good thing I waited for you to help me. I'd probably have burned myself but bad. Actually, he smiled now. I was figuring on about a quarter of a pellet, his father frowned. You should have known better than that, John. I thought I'd taught you something about being careful, and the dangers of rashness or impulsiveness, especially round anything as dangerous as this stuff undoubtedly is. You did, sir, and I'm sorry. But I forget sometimes when I get too enthusiastic. Well, philosophically, you'll probably learn as you grow older, if you live that long. But again there was that disarming grin, which John repaid in kind before leaving to get his tools and go after the might of new metal. This time he did not neglect his precautions. He wore his suit and put on a pair of extra thick lead impregnated gloves. Carefully he lifted a pellet from the box, wrapped it in several layers of lead foil left after making the box. He carried it so into the storeroom, locked it in a vice, and with a fine hacksaw cut off a tiny bit. Still wrapped carefully in the lead foil, he carried the remainder of the pellet back to the box in the lock, closed the lid, and then took the sample inside. He took off his suit and donned a lead impregnated hooded gown and the leaded gloves. Good! his father said when John told what he had done. I think I feel well enough to set up a bit. Suppose you crank this seat halfway up, then I can watch better while you make the tests. Just make sure you don't get tired, John said solicitously as he raised the seat and locked it at half recline. He had brought in another of the leaded gowns, and he slipped his over his father's head, arms and upper torso, arranging the balance of it down over his blanket and wrapped legs. Then, acting on his father's various instructions, he took the particle from his wrappings and began his tests. He measured the amount of radioactivity, and together they computed its half-life. Wow! That sure is high-pressure stuff! John explained when they had completed the various tests which they had the equipment to make. His father silent emotioned to him to set the seat back to full recline and lay there, concentrating for some time before he spoke. Yes, he said at last. It's even higher in the scale than I thought. Lots higher than curium, even now. And no telling, by any tests we can make, what it was originally, before its many half-life reductions, it must have taken place over the long time it has undoubtedly been lying out there. Probably way above anything known, even theoretically, to Terran scientists. Can we use it? John was quivering with excitement. If we can figure out a way to do so safely, so it doesn't want to disintegrate all at once, I think we've really got a fuel, a super fuel. But we'll have to go at it mightily slow and easy. That stuff could blow us higher than up, if used wrongly. Yes, I know. But after our scientists first liberated atomic energy for their bombs, many people said they couldn't control a hydrogen bomb, but they did. And later the thorium bomb. And then they got our activated copper. So I'm betting they can figure this out. Both fell silent. Although there were a dozen eager questions the boy wanted so much to ask. But he did not interrupt his father's line of thought, even though long, long minutes dragged away while the elders still pondered the problem. At last, after more than a quarter of an hour, Ted Carver stirred and looked up. This is going to take a long time to figure out, he said slowly. I'm not too much on atomics, myself, and neither are you. Now you run along and do whatever else you have to do. It's a cinch we won't be able to try this stuff right away, if we try it at all. The disappointment on John's face was plain, but he restrained any protests, knowing his father was right, and not wanting to call down on himself another verbal chastisement like that recent one. What about the rest of the stuff, he asked instead. Shall I get the box out of the cache and weld it onto the hull, as we thought we might do? I don't see why not. We want to take it back to Terra with us, whether we figure out how to use it or decide the job's too big for us and turn it over to the scientists there to handle. Right! John went over to the controls of the handling arms and the lock. Watching the special visit plate, he opened the outer locked door, extended the hands, and guided them down into the cache, after using them to lift the lid off the larger pit box. Carefully, he manipulated them to grasp the inner box by its lower end edges, and experimentally lift it in inch or two. Finding that it balanced, he slowly made the servo mechanism lift the heavy container from its age's old resting place and up into the top surface of the ship near the stern. Making sure it was securely held there, he put on his suit, gathered up his welding outfit, and went outside and climbed onto the hull. Going to where the box rested, he began the task of welding its bottom back edge onto the metal hull. Then he released the grip of the handlers, and leaving them dangling in the air, welded the other three bottom edges. Finally, he turned off his torch, rose to his feet, and started back. But after a step or two, he stopped and thought. Pop! he said into his suit radio. Do you hear me? Yes, John. The answer came back at once into his earphones. What is it? I was just wondering if it wouldn't be a good idea to spot weld a few places along the edges of the cover, too, so there'd be less chances of it coming open. It'd be easy to open it later. How's it passing now? Just a simple hasp. Better touch it in a few places, then, to make sure. Right. When this was done, John returned inside the ship, and saw to it that all the equipment was put back in place and carefully locked. Only then did he doff his suit and return to the control room. Well, that's done. Now what? Anything else you need to do here on this planet? No, not that I know of. Why? I was thinking that if everything has been taken care of, we might as well start back to Terra. No use staying any longer than is necessary. I—I think we've done everything. Have you checked a record book in the pictures? No, not fully. And I probably should before we take off at that. But I think I'd better have another nap or rest now, so I'll go over them after a while. Put them on the table here so I can reach them. Right, sir. You take plenty of time to rest. If Jack's not too busy to go with me, I think I'll go fishing in the river, out there by the edge of the desert. Maybe we can get quite a haul to take with us for fresh food on the trip. Good idea. Your mother said they were delicious. When the two boys returned with full creals later that afternoon, they went at once to see how their father was getting along. He was awake and studying the records they had made. Hi, fellows. Everything seems to be in fine shape. You chap certainly did a job while I was non-compass. Get any fish? Lots of them. They sure bites well here. Maybe because no one has ever fished them before, they have no idea of lures and hooks. Then let's just rest and eat and sleep and plan to take off in the morning, eh? You bet. I'll sure be glad to get back home again, Jack declared. Well, this chasing around is fun, but I'm home sick for terror, I guess. Me too, kind of. Besides, I want to get some more schooling at one of our Atomic Institutes. John added more slowly. Going to give up interstellar exploration, son? His father asked dryly. No, sir. But I figured we'd have to stay on terror for a year or so while you get everything straightened out about this discovery and get the ship ready for the next trip. So while you're doing that, I might as well be trying to learn something more. You will and you should. And I presume, he turned to face Jack, you want to study medicine? That and other things, the elder boy responded so really. If we can afford it, sir, I'd like to get several top men in various branches to give me some special coaching instead of going to a school. That would get me started straight, and they could recommend good books for me to be studying while we're on our future trips. Their father looked up at his wife with a smile. What's happened to our babies, Marcy? They've just grown up, Mr. C. But we have some pretty wonderful men in their place. Her eyes shone. It was pretty hard at first, after you got hurt, and they had to take charge of everything to realize that they had grown away from us. But I soon found that they hadn't, really. She continued hastily as the boys gave cries of dismay. They have matured wonderfully, but we have not lost our boys at all. Well, I should say not. Jack cried hotly. We're still kids, not men, John declared. Why, there's still so much to learn and experience to gain. We've barely started growing up. You can keep learning back on Tara, their mother said. As for me, I'm glad we're going to be there a year or more. I want to live in a house again, on land I know. Then we'd all better get to bed, their father said with his old-time rower smile. Otherwise we'll all be too fagged out to take off for home tomorrow. As soon as breakfast was finished the next morning, the carvers all assembled in the control room for the start back to Tara. John had already made the astrological calculations for their trip, having worked on them off and on during many evenings of the past several weeks. But just as they were all strapping down, his father stopped John with a sudden exclamation. Oh wait, son. I think we'd better go back close enough to all the planets and sun to make sure the signals are working right. That's one of the most important things the colonial board will check. Oh, I'm sure they're okay, Pop. We listened to each one after we placed it. But cases have been known where a sender failed, especially those on extremely hot or exceptionally cold planets. I'm not doubting that you handled them all right. It's just that I think it worth the time and effort to check them and make sure while we're still out here. All right, you're the captain. John opened the drawer in the control book and hunted out the sheets on which he had figured his former flight plans to the various planets. We don't need to land if the signals are working, his father said. Just get us close enough in line so we can receive the messages. In that case, we can fly almost by sight, merely taking into consideration the direction and speed of the planets. John shoved his papers back into the drawer. Let's see. We'll make the best time going to one, then the sun, then three, four and five, then circling about and heading for home. Fine. Get going. Strap down, everybody! A quick glance to see that they were all secure. Then John closed the master switch of his new interlocking controls. Smoothly, with increasing acceleration, the star rover lifted upward through the atmosphere of the planet Marcy, Caveria II. Every more swiftly it flew, and a special sort of gladness was in each heart at the thought that soon they would be once more speeding toward their home on far-distant Terra. Traveling about the universe, seeing new suns, new planets, new and interesting, even though alien and sometimes dangerous, forms a life of various kinds, all this was a constant source of interest and delight. Still, there was within each of them, even Tad Carver, a love of and a longing for the planet that had given them birth. Men had always found it so. It was probable that men born on Terra always would. Probable, too, that men born on other planets would always long for return to their mother-world. It took a special type of person to become a colonist on another andalian planet, much the same type of pioneer as those great-grandparents many times removed, who had made the terrible journey across the western plains and mountains of Norama to conquer the great, wealth-producing West, and their forefathers and mothers who had braved the perilous and unknown oceans to come from the old to the new world in colonial days to search for freedom and opportunity. It had been found that, even among those willing to make the sacrifices and uprootings necessary to become colonists on other worlds, there were always a few who realized they could not stand it after all. These unfortunate people usually returned to Terra, if they had the funds to do so. Nor did it seem to matter how much this new planet was like Earth, nor how great the opportunities for gaining wealth and prestige. It was that inner feeling of always remembering that they were so far from home and everything and everyone they had formerly known and loved. Tad Carver was a true son of wonderlust. He had the itching foot, the urge to travel, the zest for new places, new scenes, new outlooks. But even he, after a certain time away, felt that indefinable yet exceedingly strong must to return to his home world for a while. The boys were young, which meant they were eager for new experiences, whether on their own or other worlds. They had not yet come to an age where Terra met a great deal to them. Life was so thrilling, so interesting, there was so much to see and do. Yet even they did feel nostalgia, after too long an absence. It was Marcy Carver, who felt at most, this longing, this need for the old home. While it is true that her great love for her husband and sons made home for her any place in the universe where they might be, yet she had no real interest in exploration, no great desire or even curiosity to see other lands or other worlds. The deeps of space brought such an awe to her that they almost made her afraid. No, if her men had been satisfied there, she would never have dreamed of leaving earth. She would have been perfectly content to live in one town or city all her life, in the same house even. She did not have the pioneer spirit, did not in the least desire new scenes. Her home, and her man, and boys, these were all that she asked of life. Yet she did have the rare knack of making any place where she might be, home. She could make a mansion or a hovel, or this spaceship, seemed such a perfect home to her men that they were perfectly happy and contented with her living quarters. It was not a matter of furnishing or their arrangement. Not just material things like pictures, books, pillows, or other knickknacks placed just so. Rather, it was the spirit of home with which she impregnated every place in which her family might be living at the moment. The boys had not yet noticed this consciously. They were so filled with the joy of living and doing and learning that they had not yet stopped to think about such matters. But Tad Carver recognized it, and loved his wife all the more because of her ability. He often remarked of her, put her in even a hotel room for ten minutes and she'll make it home for me. He sometimes felt moments of guilt that he made her chase around so much, instead of letting her stay in one place and remaining with her there. But he could not stay put, and he knew she would not want to remain any place without him. That was why he had arranged things so she and the boys could travel with him. And until he had been hurt and she, with the boys, had had to take over his duties, she had seldom left the ship while on other planets, although she always looked out through port or visit plate in the various places where they had gone, with the keen interest in anything new that made her such a delightful traveling companion. So now all four felt that eagerness to be done with this matter of last-minute recheckings so they could be on their way back to Terra. It made the time pass swiftly, yet made it so draggingly prolonged it seemed they would never reach their destination. The ship soon reached an acceleration of two Earth gravities, and John asked, is this fast enough, Pop, or can you stand more? You might step it up to three Gs for an hour. There is no use loafing around till you're longer than necessary to make the curve so we can come up fairly near each planet on the line between it and Terra. And that'll get us up to cruising speed quicker when we do start the straight stretch for home, John said, and turned back to his controls to apply another notch of speed. It was not long before they approached Planet One, Tad. John had plotted a course that would take them to within thirty thousand miles of a little hot planet on the Earthward side. As they flashed past it, their receiver clearly picked up to the broadcast of their signal unit. That one's all right, their father said in a pleased voice, and John looked up and back from his calculations on the orbit to circle them about the Sun to grin his pleasure at the approval. Jack put it on top of a peak in the intermediate zone, he explained. The weather, if you can call it weather, there is more nearly normal than either on the Sunward or the Spaceward side. An hour later, Jack struggled up from his chair, staggering beneath the triple weight of his body at that acceleration. Seeing him, John called, Wait Owl, I'm just about to reduce to two G's. And in a moment, the older boy found it easier to get the sandwiches and bottles of nourishing broth their mother had prepared before take-off, and distribute them to the others. Gratefully, they all ate and drank. After we circle the Sun and our enroute to three, I'll cut down to one gravity while we have a real meal, John promised. Oh, let's not slow down just four, Jack began. It won't cut our speed, just our acceleration, which means constantly added speed, his father explained good-naturedly. As soon as we've passed them all and are heading for home, we'll cut to one gravity for the greater part of the trip, but our speed will have been built up tremendously. Oh, sure, I know that, but I forgot for the minute. As I circled toward the Sun, Mr. Carver studied it carefully in his visit plate. Just about the same type of Sun as soul, he said after a while. That's what I figured, only that it's about one quarter larger and heavier, John told him. I was hoping you'd be well enough before we left to check it for me. How close did you set your signal center orbit here? Ten million miles. Ten million? The man gasped. Then laughed in relief as he thought the boy was just trying to spoof him. Oh, come off it, John. How far out were you, really? Unless my figures are all wrong, John's voice held a hurt note. It was really only ten million miles. You can check my calculations. The book says, quote, said orbit to be as nearly circular and as close to the discovered Sun as possible, unquote. So I sent us in on a Van Sickleburg throw-out orbit apexing at ten million. Boy, that was really taking a chance. You don't need to repeat it for my benefit. I wasn't planning to, sir. John grinned now. We'll go around at about twenty million this time, but the same type of orbit as before. That's better. Well, I think I'll go back to sleep. All of it should, I suggest. Mother has already dropped off, Jack said softly, glancing toward the reclined seat in which she lay. Switch on the auto, chubby. Then douse the glow tubes. Night, Father. And soon the little ship was speeding across the interplanetary waste, guided only by the automatic pilot, while inside, four weary people slept peacefully, knowing the mechanisms would guide them safely and surely to their distant plotted destination. For outside of a possible reoccurrence of the accident that had caused Mr. Carra's injury, and that was a billions-to-one chance that could not possibly strike them again, what was there to fear away out here? Nevertheless, it was a sudden ringing of an alarm bell that woke them all into instant, wondering wakefulness. Everett Evans Chapter 13 What in the world? John's eyes snapped open and immediately began scanning the various telltales on the panel, while from the other three came a chorus, what's wrong? Something out here using atomic energy. John's surprised voice made them raise their seats quickly to upright so they could better see for themselves. Mr. Carver hastily adjusted his visi- plate to maximum magnification and began searching the heavens surrounding them. A ship, you think? Yes, and quite close. And a moment later, aided more surely by his more complex instruments, John cried, there it is, RA-11, square 17 on the plate. His father's flying fingers found the object, then narrowed his focus of vision and stepped up the magnification. His eyes grew large, then hard and tense as he studied the close-up image. Slick Bogen's ship. I'd know that anywhere, he exclaimed, and the boys looked at him in a puzzled concern. Then I must have been right, that day I thought I heard a ship, Mrs. Carver declared. You must have been, Jack agreed. But what's Bogen doing out here? John asked, with a touch of fear in his voice. Nothing good, you can bet. His father's voice was grimmer than any of them had ever heard it before. Anytime you run across that pirate, you can lay mighty big odds, there's skull-duggery afoot. Great catfish, he's trying to beat us out of this system. I'll lay a thousand to one he is, if he thinks he can get away with it. What can we do about it, father? There was now a trace of tremor in Jack's voice. John and I have worked so hard to map these planets. How can Bogen possibly do the same and still beat us? No telling. He's a slippery cuss, and if he really wants to try claim jumping, he'll figure out some dirty scheme. Can't we get back to Earth ahead of him, Mr. C, and report to the colonial board first? Mrs. Carver was almost in tears. Her husband gave her a tight-lipped smile. We'll sure try, honey. His forehead creased with a frown of concentration for some minutes. Then he faced John, who was watching him from the pilot's seat. Bogen's headed in the opposite direction, so no use chasing him to see what he's doing. Besides, I've heard his ship is armed, and we aren't, except for our rifles which are absolutely no good in space. I say continue our course, checking our signals, then. Beat it for home. After all, we don't know for sure that Bogen's trying anything, and our best bet is to finish our job as though nothing had happened, but not waste any time doing it. Just in case. Right, Pop. As near as I could tell, we have twice his speed, and we don't need to worry. We have all the data and pictures to prove we're the prime discoverers, and we didn't hear any signals to show he's put out any senders. But there was an uneasy and unhappy silence as the little space yacht continued to eat up the millions of miles. Tad Carver had intended having his younger son slow down near Planet 3, and go into an orbit close enough so he could get a good generalized view of this other Earth-like, though colder, planet. But now he would not do so. Speed and time were essential in getting back to Terra. He would try to keep his worries from the others as much as possible, but there is a deep foreboding in his mind. Only too well he knew the various types of men who braved the spaceways, and that many of them were out-and-out criminals. And this slick bojan was the most ruthless pirate and cutthroat of them all, from reports. There were so many, many crimes charged against him, though it was true that none had ever been proven. Yet such was the man's evil reputation that all honest spacemen hated him, even as they were, somewhat in fear of him. Mr. Carver was sure that the man's spacer was almost a worship in her armament, nor did he doubt that the master criminal would not hesitate to use his heavy rays to blast out of existence anyone he felt was a menace to his nefarious plans. And this new system the Carvers had discovered was a prize well worth stealing, if possible. Although Mr. Carver had not seen these splendid worlds with his own eyes, he had carefully studied the boy's concise and complete reports, and their many detailed pictures, so he knew what a rich treasure they had struck in finding this sun and its planets and boons. It would make him and his family rich beyond their fondest dreams, and he would be worse than flat broke if they lost out on getting their claim approved. For Mr. Carver had not told even his wife that all their possessions, including their ship, were mortgaged for every credit he could secure, to enable them to make this costly journey. It was true he had won great wealth on his previous trips into space, but several of his largest investments on Terra had gone sour, and this was a last desperate chance to recoup his fortune in one intensive campaign. As they neared the point in their trajectory that brought them to the earthward side of Planet 3, John began tuning his receiver and turning his directional antenna loops, so he could pick up the continuous message of their sender. Soon he began hearing words, and tuned more closely, stepping up his power. The four sat erect, expectant, then their faces blanched, and their fists tightened as they heard the words. This sun and system of five planets, of which this is the third, were discovered and surveyed by Michael Bogin and his crew on the tenth day of January in the Terran year of 2136. Over and over the message was repeated, while the Carvers stared at each other in horrified surprise and consternation, but Mr. Carver rallied quickly. He has changed the tape in your sender's boys, will probably find the same on four and five, and he's on his way two now to do the same. But he'll not be able to change the one we set out around the sun, will he, Pop? John's voice quavered and broke into a boyish soprano. He can't get in as close as we did, and still slow down enough to retrieve such a small thing, can he? I don't see how he could. But he has some darned good techniques in that pirate crew of his. They'll figure out some way to destroy ours and substitute one of their own, I'll bet. Well, this changes the picture. Now we know what he's up to, so we'll just have to get to Terra ahead of him and lay our facts before the board first. They'll take our word against his, won't they? Especially since we have such complete records and so many photographs, Jack asked, hoping to be reassured. There's no telling. Mr. Carver spoke slowly, shaking his head. If Bojan is trying to get this claim, and now we know he is, he'll work out some way of getting pictures and records, too. We can only hope, and pray, the mother added, determinedly. We'll make out some way, John tried to cheer them all. Meanwhile, I suggest I cut to one G and that mom fixes us some grub. We have to eat. That's a good idea, his father agreed. And John manipulated his controls. They all felt the sudden relief of once more being their accustomed weight. Mrs. Carver unstrapped herself and left for the galley. Jack also unstrapped, saying, I'll go help mom. Ask her to make a pile of sandwiches, too, and to bring plenty of drinks so we can eat later without slowing our acceleration, his father called, then added, don't let your mother talk about this. Get her mind on something else and keep it there. Right, father. This is serious, John, Mr. Carver said, when the two were alone in the control room. I don't like to worry any of you more than is necessary. But our chances aren't too good, now that those signals have been changed. We've got some hope left, though, haven't we? Came the anxious inquiry. I see two fairly good ones, but it all depends on so many factors, Mr. Carver answered after a moment of thought. We've got to try to get back first and report, and show them our records and pictures, which are very detailed thanks to you two boys. Second, we've got to hope someone back there caught our original signals and then noticed the change, if they could tell they came from the same system. How are you making out under this acceleration? Alright, I don't seem to be any weaker, but then, with all the excitement and disappointment, there may be a relapse. But that's not important. Then, hearing his son's gasp of dismay, he continued rapidly and grimly. No, John, really. I mean that. And I want you to keep it in mind at all times on the rest of this trip. I'm expendable if we can prove our case. Not that I intend to die, he hastens to add with a grin as John started to protest, but I'd rather take longer to get well and know that you are all provided for the way you should be. If we cut for Terra right away, without waiting to go on to four and five, Bojan couldn't possibly build up speed enough to beat us in, could he, John questioned anxiously? Not unless his ship's a lot faster than ours. It probably is, because his crew can undoubtedly stand more acceleration, and he'll drive to the limit. But if he stops to change those other signals, I don't see how he can do it. Go ahead, change course, and let's hike for home. Right. Let's see now. Terra's behind and down from where we are and the way we're heading. I'll set us into a circle while we're figuring out our course. Make it just an approximation for now. We can refine it as we go. Right. John worked swiftly at his computer, then at his controls, and they could feel the gallant little ship begin to strain toward the right. Don't try too short a turn, his father warned. Okay, I'll let up a bit. I was figuring on a two million radius. Better make it three for safety. In time, their circling was completed. The new homeward bound course figured. For days, the little ship and its anxious crew were on their way. Three times each day, their acceleration was stepped up to two Earth gravities for a period of four hours, then back to one and a quarter for the same period, four on and four off continually to give them a rest from the burden of the doubled weight and to make it easier to prepare and eat their meals and to do what personal and ship's chores had to be done. In between times, as they could, they slept. John had set their receptor and analyzer to react to atomics. It was now fanning out behind them in a cone shaped funnel of force. He hoped by this to be able to tell if Bojan began overtaking them. Of course, space was so vast and the distance to Seoul and Terra so great and their points of trajectory so different that the pirate ship might be taking an entirely different course and not come anywhere near them until the two ships were almost home. On the other hand, John was taking the most direct route and he was sure Bojan would undoubtedly do the same so they were quite apt to converge sooner or later. And since John's receptors covered an even larger sphere of space the farther away they reached, he and his father hoped they would be able to tell if and when their enemy began catching up with them. Meantime, the two studied almost continuously together the problem of that supposedly new fuel metal they had discovered on the planet Marsy, hoping it could be used in their engines. They were sadly handicapped, both because neither was an atomic physicist and because their little ship, well stocked and provided with many instruments as it was, did not contain anywhere near all the testing equipment needed for such a delicate and complex and dangerous task. Yet they learned much. Jack took over the routine duties of their flight after some additional instruction on points about which he was not sure. In between times, as the lesson to pressure allowed, he studied the new specimens he had collected, saw to it that the ship's hydroponics kept operating correctly, and did whatever he could to relieve his brother and father of their ordinary duties so they could devote all their waking time to study and experiment. Their mother attended to her housekeeping and saw to the comfort and well-being of her menfolk. Mr. Carver knew deep within himself that he was overdoing, considering his illness. His partially healed, broken leg so often pained and throbbed that he had difficulty concealing his hurt from the sharp eyes of his family. But he loved his wife and sons so greatly that their future well-being was far more important to him than his own, so he never mentioned these things. The sturdy little yacht had covered almost half the tremendous distance back to Seoul. The Carvers were beginning to let up a bit in their anxiety and fears. Surely each one felt they were winning their race. Then suddenly their alarm rang. The three of them found themselves on their feet, rushing toward the control panel. How close are they, John? Their father yelled from his co-pilot's couch. Hmm, I've stepped this up about 200%. I figure it about half a billion miles? Not very far in space. They must have lots more speed than we do to have caught up with us like that. What shall we do? Mrs. Carver grabbed her husband's arm with trembling fingers. He turned his head and smiled up at her. We'll figure out some way to beat them, honey, he soothed. There's lots more can be done yet. Sure, Mom, there's still a long way behind us. John tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice. And you know the old saying, a stern chase is a long chase. Can't we increase our acceleration and sow our speed? Jack asked. Yes, we'll have to do that at least. Mr. Carver's voice was grim. He looked at John. Step it up to two and a half, as soon as you're all in your seats. We'll stay there more of the time from now on, and we'll change the period to six in and two up. How about one and a half for the two hours? We'll try it. If we sleep or nap more while we're at max, we ought to be able to stand it. We're still almost, John figured rapidly at the computer, three weeks out of Terra, even at that increased speed. His father grimaced, while his wife and his elder son uttered gasps of dismay. I know it'll be tough, but we've got to win. But after a moment, he looked first at his wife, then at Jack. This is an order, he said seriously. The minute any of you feel you can't take it anymore, say so, and we'll cut down even if we do lose speed. I guess I went off half cocked just now in saying that we had to win. Our health is more important. Except yours you're trying to say, Jack broke in. You haven't been sparing yourself any. I notice, and I know enough doctoring to know you're not getting well as fast. I'm alright, and I'm used to ship accelerations. Mr. Carver turned his head toward his son and made himself grin. Even under these three G's, I can still get up and lick ya, even with a half healed leg. John realized at once that his father was warning him not to worry their mother anymore, and forced himself to reply, pretending to be shame-faced. Yes, sir, you could at that. I'll be good. But the next morning, by the ship's chronoms, after they had fully awakened from a night of tortured sleep, John studied his instruments for some time, then reported to his father. Bojan's still catching up. He's only about four hundred million behind us now. But how can he possibly be, Jack demanded. Probably staying on three G's are better all the time, John answered. Or else, he has a different means of propulsion than we have that affects his whole ship and contents, including crew, his father said slowly. I don't know what it could be. But theoretically, there are a lot of different ways of traveling faster than any weave learned how to use yet. But how could they, Mr. C., his wife gasped. I don't pretend to know much about such things, but I thought that better fuels merely meant increased efficiency in the use of the engines, not an increase of speed. Isn't it acceleration that makes the speed faster? He turned his head with difficulty. At three gravity's acceleration, their apparent weight was tripled, and his body now weighed over five hundred and fifty pounds instead of its normal 180 plus. You're both right and wrong, honey, he explained. The better the fuel, the less we have to carry for the same distance travel. And that makes our thrust to mass ratio less. We can go home faster than we came out here, because some of our fuel is gone and we have less mass. But that's not what I'm talking about. Theoretically, as I said, there are other ways, none of which our scientists have yet figured out how to use as far as I know. There could be a complete or partial nullification of gravity or inertia, or some type of space warp, or some method of cutting through the other dimensions, so we could go almost instantly from one point in space to another. Jack gasped, why? How's that possible, father? John answered quickly. I can illustrate, I think. Imagine a sheet of paper with a dot near either end. The normal way to connect them would be a straight line drawn from one to the other, which is analogous to the way we travel in space now. What Pop's talking about would be the same as if we folded the paper so the two dots touched and moved from one to the other direct. That wouldn't be that silly. The two phrases came simultaneously from Jack and his mother. It's not silly, honey. We merely haven't figured out how to do it yet, but theoretical science knows that there are folds in space. We just haven't learned how to use them yet. No, Jack snorted, and I'll bet you never do. And I'll bet they will, John blazed. You just don't realize how wonderful science is in other lines than your own, I mean. You think it's perfectly natural that medical science has made such tremendous advances in the past couple of centuries. Why shouldn't other branches make just as great strides? Because the advances in medicine and surgery have been logical, his brother began hotly, but their father interrupted. Whoa, now, boys, don't get started on an endless argument. You're both right and both wrong. I'll admit that the three methods I mentioned are pretty far-fetched, but after all, science is always doing the unexpected and the impossible. There's no telling what they'll do next. Not even of telling what they may have done while we've been gone. I'd read about that simultaneously thing, John stated. It was a concept about being able to reproduce the exact nucleonic pattern of some other space, and thus being able to transfer to it instantly. Another idea is of a tube or vortex method of transversing space at almost instantaneous speeds, and many others such, Mr. Carver declared, but it's a cinch none of us have brains enough to figure out any of them before we reach Terra. And that Bojan's not using any of them either, since he's so apparently on a straight line flight like we are. He may have better engines or better fuel, but to overtake us like he is, now that I've stopped to think about it, can only be done by using greater acceleration than we are and for a longer time. So while those other ideas are interesting conjectures, they won't help us out of our present predicament. That's right, Pop. John wrenched his mind back to their immediate problem. We've got to figure out what we can do right now to beat Bojan. They all lapsed into silence then, partly to think of their problem, and partly because their personal energy was weakened by the tremendous pressures they were undergoing. Their new schedule was hard in them all. None of them were really rested, even though they now slept or dozed most of the time, but they were keeping more nearly ahead. Although when John took his next readings, Bojan's ship had crept up another third of a hundred million miles. That means he'll catch up with us and pass us in about eleven days, and we're still almost twenty out of Terra. John could not entirely keep the worry out of his voice. During the noon respite, according to ship's time, they cut their acceleration to one and a half, and Mrs. Carver prepared a hot meal and cold lunches for the balance of that day. While they were eating, there in the control room, Jack suddenly looked up at his father. I just wondered, sir, how much pressure could a person stand for long periods if he was unconscious under some kind of anesthetic? Why the elder hesitated? I don't know exactly. I imagine around five gravities or so, if it was to be for some time, especially if one was in a pressure pack. Why do you ask? I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I remembered reading about a series of experiments a Swedish scientist has been making about putting animals, even people, into an unconscious state. It's in one of my real books. Seems to me, I remember it saying he has found he could keep them there for several days at a time without any sign of permanent harm. How'd he do it? John dropped his fork to lean forward. With the drug he invented, wait, I'll go get the book. Jack jumped up from the table, but his mother's voice stopped him. We're not going to try anything like that, she said, worriedly, not even to beat Bojan. Mr. Carver reached out from his recline seat to lay a hand soothingly on his wife's. Wait now, Marcy, let's find out first what this is all about. Maybe the boy has something, maybe not, but let's examine it before we decide, shall we? Her eyes still held the worried look, but she returned to the pressure of his hand. Well, I guess there's no harm in that, Mr. C., but I just don't like taking dangerous chances, that's all. He smiled at her fondly. Pioneers always have to take chances, honey, he said gently. Med would never have gotten anywhere if they hadn't. But we'll make sure we know all about what we're getting into before we leap, you can bet. Besides, John tried to reassure her, even if this stuff would work, I will hasn't any of that new drug, so we couldn't try it, much as we might want to. Oh, that's right, I hadn't thought of that, she smiled with relief. In a moment, Jack came running back with a real book. Here it is. Let's see now, he rapidly scanned through the reel with his finder. Ah, here it is. He read aloud rapidly, and the three listened intently. So you see, Jack raised his head triumphantly when he had finished reading, it's perfectly possible to put us to sleep for a week at a time. And you said the ship was fully automatic, he turned to John, so it doesn't need guiding, and would keep on its course whether we were awake or not. Well, it's way past our two hours, Mr. Carver spoke up hastily to prevent his wife from saying anything. Time we were getting back into stepped up acceleration again. Strap down, and we could study this later. I still don't like the idea, Mrs. Carver said, as the four made themselves as comfortable as possible in the reclined seats before John turned on more acceleration. During the next two or three waking periods, Jack busied himself studying his reel deck, but this was such a common sight it attracted no special attention. Nor did the others notice that he began disappearing into the ship's storeroom each up period, and had to be called repeatedly when the meal was ready, or it was time to strap down again. He said nothing of what he was doing, nor did any of the others think to ask, for the boys were customarily here and there about the ship, busier their many tasks and activities. But at the start of one up period, Jack went at once to the storeroom and workshop, and when he came back to the table set in the control room, he showed his family a large cork test tube filled with a colorless liquid. I've got it, he exclaimed, his eyes shining. I found all the ingredients needed in our stores and my medical kit. I made up a batch of the cataleptic fluid. We inject four cc's in each of us and… What you're talking about, John demanded. The stuff to make us unconscious so we can stand five G's of acceleration. Jack looked up in hurt surprise. What we were talking about the other… I thought we were going to forget that nonsense, his mother said sharply. Wait, now, Marcy. Let's hear what the boy has, her husband said gently. Then go ahead, Jack. Tell us more about this. This medicine injected into our bloodstream puts us into suspended animation for several days, depending on how much of the fluid we use. We first take an injection of glucose and other nutrients, of course. Then this stuff puts us into deep sleep, slows our metabolism. You said in such a state we could stand much heavier acceleration, father. Then with this, we can beat bargain. What sort of shape would it leave us in? His father almost raised up in interest and held up his hand when his wife would have broken in. Are there any after effects? The book says the doctor never discovered any, especially after he started giving people the nutrient injection first. He has had people under for as much as two weeks. Four cc's would act for about five days, though I thought we could use that much the first time, at least. Five g's would certainly put us way ahead of bugging shit. John had jumped up from the table and had been working swiftly with the computer. Two such five days periods, three more days on positive acceleration, then seven on negative, out to give us a controllable velocity somewhere near salt. We'd have to compute it more exactly, of course. Before we take each shot, Mr. Carver thought slowly and intently, then spoke decisively. I believe that this is our best bet, if it's sure. We certainly want to get back first, if possible, and according to our present routine, which is all we can stand as we are, bugging can beat us in. Besides, he will undoubtedly shoot down the star rover if he catches up with it. And you know what would happen to us? Yes, when I checked today, it was only about 200 million behind. Let's try it, Jack was all eagerness. Take it easy, son. We've got to talk and study this a lot first. Mr. Carver then turned to his wife, who had sunk back into her seat, biting her lip to keep from crying out, her hands clenched tightly. We'll make a show as we possibly can before we decide to do anything, honey. But don't you see the advantage of this, if it will work? We must get to terror first, if we can, and this seems to be the only way we know of doing it. I see that, she said with a sigh of resignation, and I know you'll know what you're doing before you do it. We sure will. Then Mr. Carver turned back to Jack, tell us again all about this stuff. And what the book says. Jack talked rapidly, but concisely for nearly five minutes. Afterwards, he showed his father the reel and his table of components of the mixture. Mr. Carver studied the book carefully for some time, and minutely compared the formula as given there with the one Jack had used. Then he lay back and thought with intense concentration for nearly a quarter of an hour. Finally, he raised his head with determination. I think we should try, it seems safe from all the evidence here. I have faith enough in Jack's ability to trust him to have made the fluid correctly. His formula checks exactly with the one in the reels. And if it works, we can win out. John rose purposefully. Right, Pop. Come on Jack, let's break out the pressure packs and get them hung. They went into the storeroom and soon came back, each staggering under the weight and inconvenience of two packs. These they hung from the bulkhead hooks, built into the ship for just that purpose, and made sure they were securely anchored. How much time after the injection before we black out? How? John asked them. A minute or so I guess. Why? Figuring how long I'll have to handle the controls. A minute is plenty of time, as I can have everything set up, and only have one switch to throw. Mr. Carver reached out her hand and patted his wife's cheek as she stood by his side. It's going to work out all right, honey. His voice was bright and assured. These boys of ours are really up on their stuff. Yes, she agreed. I know they know what they are doing, and that you are checking them carefully. It is mainly my not knowing that makes me afraid sometimes. She gave him a lopsided smile. I hate being the weak member of the party. You're nothing of the kind! He grinned as the boy's murmured protest which meant the same thing. You're the best fellow in the gang! Honey blew her a kiss as the boys helped him into his pack, and saw to it that he was securely and comfortably strapped in. Then they did the same for their mother. Jack went to his room and came back quickly with his hypodermic needles, and a bottle of glucose and concentrates. He put this beside the test tube with the new fluid. Carefully, he administered the dosage of nutrients to the other three, then laid down on his reclined seat and gave himself his own dose. He rested there for a couple of minutes, then rose. Carefully, he drew four cubic centimeters of the new clear fluid into his needle, then approached his mother. Ready? He asked, smiling, but with tight lips. She pushed up her left sleeve, ready son? And now her voice was soft but steady. He tipped the needle into the light. Carefully expelled a couple of drops to make sure all air was out of the tube. Then quickly and with the soonest he had trouble making his hand a sheer, he pushed the slim needle into her arm and injected the drug. With the ball of his thumb, he rubbed the puncture gently for a moment. Sleep tight, mother. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. Who's next? He turned to the others. Me, of course. His father bore this harm. John has to be awake last to handle the controls. Again, Jack filled his needle, and as carefully as before, he injected the sleeping drug into his father. Then he stepped up to the pilot's pressure pack, where his younger brother was adjusting the controls. Ready, John? Just a sec. The boy was still working, pushing in a button there, turning a switch here, stopping to tighten a wire or connection somewhere else. But in a few moments, he had finished and then rested his right hand on the handle of the master switch, ready to push it into contact. But just as Jack brought the needle close to his arm, the younger boy pushed it away. Wait now, Jack. How about you? Can you make it to your pack and get in and strap down and settle and then give yourself the shot before I throw the switch and the five Gs take effect? Don't worry about me, his brother said gruffly. I'll make it some way. Not good enough, John said positively. Let's figure this down to seconds. If I don't close the switch before I black out, all this will be wasted. How about if you inject yourself first? Will you have time enough to give me my shot and then get back into your pack and strap down before you go under? Jack thought swiftly a moment. Your points well taken, John, but you didn't figure it right. Your way, I'd have to give you your injection beside doing all the rest in the same length of time. If I give you yours first, I can get into my pack and give myself mine there. You merely stay awake until I'm done. Yes, I guess you're right. But fix your pack so you can be sure of getting in without any trouble. Jack did this, then came back, filled the needle and injected it into John's arm. Swiftly then he ran to his own pack, climbed in and fastened the straps. He filled the needle, plunged it into his arm, and pushed home the plunger. John had been watching his brother, forcing back the drowsiness that thought to engulf him. As he saw Jack's knot that was all done, he turned to his panel. A quick glance about his board with his fast diminishing senses told him everything was on the green. With his last measure of consciousness, he rammed home the switch. He settled back into a more comfortable position and felt himself plunging down the blackness of unconsciousness. John felt himself coming awake, and his first stuttered thought was, didn't the stuff work? He began to open his eyes and noticed at once how stiff his eyelids felt. But he forced them open. He looked at the date clock and smiled with relief. The five days and several hours had passed, seemingly in an instant. Now, almost fully awake, his eyes saw the various meters, dials, goat, and telltales on his panel. Everything seemed to be working properly. It showed in his receptor and applied greater and still greater power. Space behind was blank of atomics. Smiling thankfully and beginning to unloosen his strap, John now noticed how dry his mouth was and that his skin felt dry too and feverish. But he had no headache and he thought seemed to be functioning as clearly and swiftly as always. Boy, I should need a bath and drink and something to eat, he thought. Then realized that the others would be feeling the same way. The others. It turned quickly to look at them. They were all still lying in their packs, somewhat pale. But with a peaceful, unstrained look on their faces. John tried to rise, but real back and almost fell as he got onto his feet. He held himself erect a moment and gradually felt a measure of strange returning. As soon as he could, he went into the galley. Quickly, he prepared a cup of instant broth and drank it gratefully. Much refreshed, he made more of the consomme and further enriched it with some anti-fatic pills dissolved in the steaming liquid. He set four cups of it on a tray and carried them into the control room. His first quick glance showed the other beginning to stir. Morning fog, he called cheerfully, soups on. They opened their eyes slowly, almost uncomfortably. But awareness came quickly, and his mother and brother sat up and fumbled at the straps. Did we make it? His father called anxiously. But Jack noticed at once how weak his father's voice sounded, and went across to his side. We sure did, John smiled broadly. We were out just a little over five days. And the receptors don't show a thing behind. I woke up just a few minutes ahead of you, and that's one of the first things I looked at. Then I found I was weak and dry, so I went out and made this broth. He passed the cups and, as the other drank gratefully, John spoke again. I've got to end it to you, Al. Your show fixed us fine this time. He certainly did. Mr. Carver spoke as forcefully as he could. Having already privately warned Jack to say nothing of his weakened condition, he looked solicitiously over at his wife. You all right, Marcy? Yeah, I feel fine. Now that I had this good consummate John was so thoughtful as to make. She smiled with real relief that they had all come through this dangerous experiment so successfully. Mr. Carver turned to John. It feels like we're only at one gravity. Yes, I rigged the automatics, so they'd take care of that at the end of 125 hours, the boy explained. Probably it was the relief from pressure that woke us, as well as the wearing of the stuff Jack gave us. Then he looked at his brother. How come we're not famished after five days? That little glucose and stuff you gave us wouldn't last that long, would it? No, but the drug not only made us unconscious, but slowed down our metabolism so that we burned up hardly any energy. There was silence then, while the force sipped their broth. Finally, Mr. Carver looked up at Jack. How soon can we go through this again? The book says the doctor gave as high as four doses to people, one right after the other as they woke up, with only a few hours' rest between them. Then we'd better take some time out. We'll all want bath, plenty of your mother's good cooking, and John and I will have to do some computing. If Bogeyne holds his acceleration plus and minus, we can take most of the day and still beat him in. John had been doing some rapid preliminary figuring, but it'll take a couple of hours, maybe more, to compute the last hop. It's tricky, especially I'll have to look in the FMRs to find the position of Luna when we get near her orbit. Right, we don't want to hit her. Well, we can keep at one gravity for at least 12 hours then, his father said, and Mrs. Carver breathed a sigh of relief. She was still a bit worried about there undergoing such untry experiments, even though she trusted the abilities of a man fork, and knew they had all come safely through the first time. I'll make note of all this and ask each of you for your full reaction, Jack said animately. Then when we get home, I'll write up a complete report and send it to Dr. Svanholm. I'm sure it'll be Tickle Pink to get his added confirmation of his studies and experiments. That's thoughtful of you, son, his father smiled, developing into a true research scientist. He sure is, his younger brother paid deserved tribute. Jack readened a bit and hastily left a control room to help his mother with her work. They all took warm baths and changed their clothing. As Jack was helping his father, he asked anxiously, now that we're alone, father. Did you really come through all right? You look a bit more tired and worn than before we started this. Sure, I'm okay, Mr. Carver said quickly, but he could not meet his son's eyes. You're not, sir, and you know it, and I know it. Jack spouted a bit strangely. I don't like it, but I know how you feel about this, so I'll keep quiet. How's your leg? Thanks, son. Our getting back first is very important to me, and I can rest and get well after we reach Earth and get the board's confirmation on our claim. And don't forget that we might not get back at all, if Boggin catches up with us, he's ruthless about anyone who gets in his way. As for the leg, it aches some, but not like it did before. I really think it's healing in fine shape. Let's have a look. Jack threw back the covers and peered closely at the leg, lifting it so he could better see all around it. Yes, he said finally, as he tucked in the blankets again, it's almost healed. And there isn't a sign of inflammation, not even a bump where the break was. I sure hope I set it dry, so that it won't bother you later on. His father pat his end. You did a great job, I know, son, and I'm very grateful to you, as well as proud of having such a fine boy. Two fine boys, then. For John is certainly every bit as deserving of your praise as I am, sir. That I'll certainly buy, Mr. Carver's eye shone. They all said about during the day, eating as much as they could hold of Mrs. Carver's fine cooking, and relaxing gratefully in the comfortable, one-gravity-earth way. John and his father worked tirelessly until they had computed precisely where they were, and how soon, and how much more deceleration they would have to use to furnish their trip, than they did to relax for the balance of the day. Late that afternoon, John suddenly swiveled his chair about to face his father's reclined seat. I think I figured out something on that new fuel and how to use it, pop. Ships will have to be changed though. The bins will have to be heavily lead lined, of course, and so would the injected tubes have to be shielded. The nozzle would have to be made smaller, so the pellets will fit better. I figure the people who used to handle the stuff made the nuggets that exact size on purpose, that would not want to try making them the same size as our copper ones. That sounds reasonable. What about shielding for the generators? There'd have to be a lot more of that too. Probably thick shields of neo-caballoy and paraffin, but can they surround the generators? Bins and everything with false fields? As an added precaution? Maybe they could at that. We'd better put it up to the scientist and take his back on terror. Neither of us knows enough to handle it ourselves when it comes down to the actual work. The boy's face fell, then he forced a smile. I hate to give in to anyone else on this, but you're right as rain, pop. It is too big a fish for us to handle alone. But I'm sure going to learn before I finish, and someday when I run against anything like this again, you can bet I'll know what to do. What's the use of going all that trouble when you only have that small amount of fuel you found? Their mother asks curiously. Ouch. You would have to think of that, John Grumble, but Mr Carver smiled up at his wife. There's plenty on Planet Five, remember? And probably in other places around the universe. You can bet that prospectors will be hunting and finding it once we announce our discovery. If we and the scientists can figure out what it was before it started losing its half-life, and if we can learn how to use it, he said firmly, once metallurgists have had the chance to analyze it, they won't take long to figure out exactly what it is and where it can probably be found. The type of sun and planet that would have it, I mean, he added. And under the prime discoverers code we'll get a percentage of the process, won't we, pop? I think so, that'll be up to the board, but they're usually pretty square about such things. When it was time, Jack again gave the family the dosage of nutrients, and then the shots. John had filled four-terms bottles with strength-regaining soup his mother had made, and these were placed at each pressure pack, ready for their awakening. Again, a fall lapsed into the complete unconsciousness of suspended animation, knowing neither discomfort nor the long passage of time, while their little ship bore through the immensities of space at a constant negative acceleration of five gravities. As before, when they awakened, they felt as though they had just gone to sleep. As soon as they had taken their initial feelings on of the thermos-hot broth, John and his father set to work taking observations and making long and intricate calculations of their present speed and placement. Where were they? How much of their utterly incomprehensible top speed did they have left? Practically perfect! John exclaimed happily after nearly an hour of careful computations. As he read the last tapes from the calculator, it works out at 1.84 Gs to atmosphere. Oh, positively, kay! Mr. Carver agreed. A master computer couldn't have done any better, and Jack has certainly proved himself to be a grand doctor. It's not my credit. Doctors van Holm's the one who… But it was you who made up the fluid and induced you to take it. His mother came over and round her hand gently through his hair. I'm proud of you all. John had been turning his receptors carefully, but was unable to get any traces of Bogan's ship and all were happy at his report. Warm bath and changes of clothing and the fine mirrors prepared by Mrs. Carver's, plus the fact they were rapidly nearing soul, which could be seen on their telescopic plates, made them all very gay and full of chatter. I've decided I want to go back to the hospital school and really prepare myself to be a doctor, Jack said in no uncertain terms. Later I want to go into medical research. And I still want to enroll at the Central Polyton Institute of Atomics. John's eyes were shining. Aren't you boys forgetting one little detail? Their father asked dryly. While the long slips had relaxed his body and had practically completed the healing of his broken leg, the pressure had not been good for him, and his condition as a whole was worse. But his periods were high, and he was careful not to let any of his family know just how weak it felt. At his question, they all looked up. Astonished. And he continued, There's the small matter of getting the colonial board's approval of our claim against the counterclaim we feel so sure Bogan's is coming in to make. Poo, he hasn't got a chance, John said, already. You hope, Jack scoffed, suddenly serious and worried. How about it, Mr. C? Mrs. Carver asked how pictures and data are so detailed I don't see how Bogan can possibly match them. A husband answered slowly and thoughtfully. I think we can prove our claim. Besides, their receivers there on terror should have picked up the broadcast of our signals. And then the change. And that should have made them wonder why. So our explanation ought to satisfy them. That reminds me. John swung back to his paddle. Let's see if we can pick up our signals from there. Or Bogan's, rather, his lips tightened. In a few moments, his tubes had warmed up, but nothing came in over his ultra-range receivers. He stepped up the power and swung his directional loops forth and back, although mostly he aimed at directly towards the Carvenia system's known coordinates. For long, anxious minutes he worked, but still no sounds. Saved the noise of cosmic rays and the other forces of the void that made long-distance communication such a problem. With a wary gesture, John finally turned off the set and swung about with a stricken face. What do you suppose is wrong, Pa? The elder shook his head slowly. Only thing I can think of is that we're so far away, the senders can't reach this far. I want that being a favor, Jack asked. If they can't hear any signals at all, our records ought to be enough. Maybe, yes, maybe no. Mr. Carver answered with a tired smile. And after all, our hard work, too. John's tone was dispirited. And the dangerous you were up against, Mrs. Carver's eyes were tear-dimmed. Their father caught himself then looked at each with a disarming grin. Hey, we're all crossing bridges where maybe there isn't even a creek to be spanned. He made his voice mockingly cheerful. What's happened to the good old Carver spirit? You're right, Pa. John shook away his dismay and began to smile. We're not licked yet. But while they were eating a short time later, John turned his seat to face his father. Don't like to start worrying again, Pop. He said in a low voice. But our receptor is picking up atomic activity behind us again. Of course, he had it quickly. This close to Terra, it could be some other ship, not Borgans. Could be, and probably is. His father stroked his shin reflectively. I don't see how he could have caught up with us. But we don't know what this ship can do. The guy is tricky and dirty, but he does have a brain, and he has some darned good techniques in his crew. He'd know, from his own receptors, when we start his pitting up so fast, and he'd do something to counteract that, if he could. I've heard things like that about him, but I don't know him. I do, grimly. We've had brushes before when I was in other ships. He's a skunk and ought to be behind bars. But so far, no one has been able to produce any real evidence of what our basement node must be through. If the board accepts our claim and data against him, won't that be proof against him? It should be. You can bet your tackle, I'll work on that angle. Space will be cleaner if that hellhound isn't in it. You bet, Pop. I hope you think you're hooking him this time. His father loved grimly. It won't be for lack of trying. That's for dang sure. End of chapter 14, recording by Alexie Duclos of the French podcast Citizen Cage. Edward Everett Evans. John Carver spoke into the microphone of his ship radio. Exploration ship Star Rover, CAD Carver owner, John Carver pilot, asking permission to land. We are circling at 10 miles up. A moment's crackling noise from the speaker, then a cheery, feminine voice. Central Paladin spaceport, landing permission granted. What size is your ship? A 72 foot space yacht. Do you need servicing? We will in a day or so, but not at the moment. Use cradle 43 in section D, land in four minutes. Instructions received with thanks. Star Rover off. Carefully, John sighted through his visit plate until he located the cradle marked with a large 43 in the section of the tremendous spaceport, also clearly marked D. He lowered the ship slowly and gently, keeping his eyes closely on the chrono and its big sweep secondhand. So expert had he become at handling the ship and so well did his new automatic technique work. The ship settled gently into the cradle dead center, and only 1.30 seconds off the four minutes specified. Nice handling, chubby. Jack cheered as they felt the mighty engines and generators shut off. Ah, it was rotten. I was almost a second and a half off in my timing. Who cares? There was a little joy and pure thankfulness in their mother's voice. We are back on earth, home, and all of us are whole. That's the best part of all. Her husband looked up from the reclined seat where he was still lying and winked at his sons. Then he faced his wife. The eternal mother, he smiled gently at her, and his voice was soft with emotion, happiest when her brood is safe. And he had it a hastily, had the look coming into her eyes. How thankful mankind is, or should be, that women folk have always had that feeling. Man would never have gone as far as he has if she hadn't. Jack soon came in from the other part of the ship. All our data books, pictures, and specimens are packed and stashed by the interlocked door, he reported. John jumped from his pilot seat and started toward the living quarters. Let's get our street clothes on and get going to the colonial board headquarters. Yes, Mrs. Carver said, surely after all we've gone through to make sure we beat that bogan and his ship back home, let's not waste any time. Well, Mr. Carver's eyes twinkled. Go put on your prettiest frock and all your war paint so you can make a good impression on the board members. She twinkled her nose at him, but went to the bunk room. Mr. Carver raised his chair to upright and began struggling to get up. The two boys, watching closely, saw how weak he was and ran to help him. With his arms across their shoulders, he finally managed to half walk, half be carried into the other room. The boys lowered him into a seat. I'll get your clean clothes and your razor and some hot water, Jack said. John went back into the control room and turned on his radio sender. Service please, he said when the operator came on and in a moment, Star Rover cradle 43 section D, please have a taxi hopper here in 30 minutes and a wheelchair with it. Thanks. When the four got outside on the landing platform and Tad Carver saw the wheelchair, he was indignant. I'm not going to ride in any lousy perambulator, he grumbled, but the boys were insistent. Finally his wife came over and put her hand on his arm. He might as well give in, Mr. C. Besides, your leg is not strong enough to do without one yet. Still grumbling, he let the boys help him into the wheelchair, but they noticed his sigh of relief when he was settled and the weight was taken off his feet. His body trembled with weakness in spite of his efforts to control himself. The chair, their books and cases were soon loaded into the copter. Then John directed. Colonial board building, please. The little ship rose swiftly on her whirling veins, then streaked through the clear air towards the center of the great city of Centropolis. While the four watched the familiar sights of home with eager, happy eyes. Look at the trees and flowers Jack called excitedly, pointing at the riot of color below. They're getting green and full bloom. It's late spring here, yet it was fall back on three. Different suns, different seasons on the various planets. There was an amusement in his father's voice. Sure, you want to know that, John said condescendingly. I do know it, you fat head. I was just now boys, their mother interposed, and the two grinned covertly at each other. Poor mother never seemed to realize there was no real animosity behind their bickering. It took only a few minutes for the swift taxi hopper to ferry them from the spaceport to the roof of the huge colonial building. Tad Carver paid the fare. The boys again filled their arms with their books and cases. And Mrs. Carver pushed the wheelchair to the elevator. They descended to the board headquarters floor. In the ante room, their father propelled his chair to the receptionist's desk. I'm Tad Carver, owner of the Star Rover, just back from a trip. We wish to present a claim as prime discoverers of a new planetary system. Oh, splendid! The stately brunette's eyes lighted. Is it a good one? She asked as she reached into one of the drawers of her desk for a sheet of forms. Mr. Carver smiled. Five planets and seven moons. Two of the planets are very earth-like, and there are lots of metal, wood, and many other worthwhile things. A distant look came into the girl's eyes. I've never been out in space. It must be wonderful. She straightened with determination. Please answer these preliminary questions. Then I'll get your point with the board. Rapidly, she put the questions as listed on her forms and filled in the vacant places as he answered her. Finished, she rose, said, just a moment, please, and went in through a side door with the papers in her hand. Mr. Carver wheeled himself back to his family, who were sitting stiffly in chairs against the further wall. Are they going to allow our claim? John asked nervously. The others leaned forward to hear the answer. Take it easy, Mr. Carver's eyes showed amusement. The girl has merely gone into making an appointment for us. This takes time, you know. We probably won't have the answer for several days. Oh, it was a trio of disappointment, and they sat back to wait, glumly, impatiently. But only a few minutes later, they straightened expectantly as they saw the receptionist coming back. She crossed over to them. The board is at liberty to hear your preliminary claim now, she told them. Please follow me. She led them through the same side door and into a large room beyond. The four looked eagerly about them, seeing a well-lighted, wood-paneled office. Across the room was a large, heavy table desk, behind which were seated five men. Mr. and Mrs. Tad Carver and their two sons, the girl introduced them before leaving, please take those chairs. From his seat in the center of the table, the chairman indicated comfortable chairs on the side of the table opposite him. John pushed one aside, while Jack propelled the wheelchair into the vacant space. Then the other three Carver seated themselves in adjoining seats. I am Robert Wilson, chairman of the board. The other members are Phil Silverman, James Daugherty, Will Irwin, and Sam Reardon. He indicated intern the other men at the table. I see you claimed to be the prime discoverers of a new solar system. That's wonderful. We're expanding so rapidly, what with the increasing birth rate on Terra and the other colonized planets, that we already and always need more room. Tell us more about your find. It's a five-planet system with a sun much like soul, only about a quarter larger. The coordinates are right ascension 17.45, declination minus 11.4, distance about 62 light-years. Swiftly, Mr. Carver gave the pertinent facts about the habitability of planets two and three, and presented their books of data and their cases of photographs. How come we haven't received your signals, or didn't you place any, Irwin asked? We did place them, sir, but we noticed several days ago coming in that we could not hear them with our own receivers. It is my opinion that the distance is too great for the strength of the senders. That's possible, Silverman spoke up. Your claim is further away than any yet presented to us. I happen to know that the signal senders furnished by our board technicians ordinarily have a theoretical range of not quite 50 light-years. Mr. Carver half rose, then settled back and spoke with a level voice, while his eyes swept from one love to the other up to five men. I want to report honestly on this case, sirs. Just before we left, we started back along a course that would take us fairly close to all our planets and the sun, to make sure our senders were functioning correctly. We started from two, where we had just completed marking out our city site, went past one and around the sun, planning to make a big swing to the other planets, and so back home. The senders of one, two, and the sun were working all right. But as we neared three, we heard, instead of our own, signals stating that the system had been charted and claimed by Michael Bogan and his slick Bogan. Several of the board members exclaimed in concert, and Chairman Wilson added, grimly, so he's at work again. Mr. Carver waited until they were silent, then continued. We think he either destroyed our senders or substituted his own tapes and ours. However, we put our sun signal into an orbit so close to the sun's surface. We doubt if he'll be able to do anything about it. It's only about 10 million miles. 10 million! Reardon almost yelled the question, and the others sat upright in excited astonishment. Doubt showing in their faces. How could you do that? I figured a van sicklenberg, sir, to give our sender a circular orbit, apexing at 10 million miles. John Carver explained simply, we used the servomex in our lock to throw the sender out when at minimum distance. You, there was a concerted expression of disbelief, and Mr. Reardon said witheringly, Why, you're not a listed astrogator. How could you compute a, a what was it you called it? A van sicklenberg throwout orbit, sir. I never heard of a van sicklenberg. What is it? What sort of nonsense are you talking? John opened his mouth to reply, but his mother forestalled him. She rose determinately. My John is only a boy, gentlemen, but he has also become an expert pilot and an excellent astrogator, if I do say so myself. He is also an inventor and will shortly apply for patents on a new automatic piloting system, which I don't pretend to understand anything about, but which I do know from watching its use is far in advance of anything you now have. You can be sure he knows how to do such a simple thing as plot an orbit. She sat down, eyes defiant, her mouth in a straight line. The men's faces showed astonishment at her words as much as her outburst. I had been knocked unconscious and my leg was broken. Mr. Carver took up the explanation. So I was out of action for a long time. I'm not fully recovered yet. Which is the reason for the discurricy of this wheelchair. The two boys had to take over all the work of mapping the new system, but I have examined their books and pictures. It feels sure you will find everything in order and complete, and that it will prove our rights as prime discoverers. No matter what Bogan may have to say when he gets here, he is following us, but we managed to beat him in. Hmm. The chairman frowned and thought, then whispered for some moments to the other man on either side of him. The four Carvers sat nervously, awaiting the decision of the final arbiters. Finally, Chairman Wilson addressed them directly. You can well understand that we will have to make a rather more thorough examination than usual in this case, Mr. Carver, and that we will have to wait a few days to see whether or not Michael Bogan is going to make a counterclaim. Knowing you got here first, he may decide not to do so. Where are you located so we can get in touch with you later? We came directly from our ship, sir, so do not have an address as yet. However, as soon as we have found a place, I'll call your secretary and leave our address and visit phone number. You do that, please. Then, as the Carvers roasted apart, Chairman Wilson halted them, his voice kindly yet grim. This is a peculiar case, Carver, as you can well understand. We know the reputation of Bogan, but we also know he has never been found guilty of any of the things rumored claims he has done. We board members try always to be fair and honest in these matters, and you can feel certain and confident you and your claims will be given careful consideration. We will get in touch with you in a few days. Thank you, gentlemen. I'm content to rest my claim in your hands. The four bowed, then left the office and the building. What do you think, father? Jack asked anxiously as they were riding a ground cab, whose driver had been instructed to find them a good apartment hotel. I don't know, Mr. Carver added a weary smile. It's all in the future, and I'm not a seer. However, I'm sure we'll get an honest and unbiased hearing and decision, and I'm equally positive we have the better claim. So let's forget it until we're notified to appear and enjoy our return to Tara. Mr. C's right boys, their mother agreed. We've done our best, and thanks to you boys, it's a very fine best. Now we must wait, but not worry. Their cabbie found them a nice place where there was a vacancy, and soon the four were unpacking their gear and getting settled in their new home. Mr. Carver vis-a-phoneed at once to give the new address and phone number to the board's receptionist. Then the Carver settled down to wait, with as much patience as they could muster, for the call. Jack insisted on having a good doctor called at once. The latter made a thorough examination. He had Mr. Carver taken to an X-ray laboratory, where it was determined that the broken leg had been perfectly set and was now practically healed, although it would take some time before the strength returned to it. He also prescribed a course of medications to bring back the invalid's full health and vigor. The call came from the board three days later, in the middle of a morning when, fortunately, the four Carvers were all in the apartment. They hurried down to the street where they flagged a ground cab and were driven swiftly to the colonial building. The same brunette girl ushered them at once into the board room. Inside they found the complete board in session and in chairs opposite them sat Slick Bogan and his chief lieutenant who glared at the Carver sullenly as they entered. Hardly were the four seated when Bogan sprang to his feet. What's the big idea, Carver? He almost yelled, trying to claim our discovery. You've got a crust trying something. Sit down, Mr. Bogan, and keep quiet. Chairman Wilson spoke in a low but commanding voice. We're here to judge the facts as presented, not to indulge in charges, countercharges, and vituperation. Now, the board has examined minutely both sets of claims. Both parties have presented all the data required by us and these have been studied by each of us individually. Daugherty, he turned to one of the board members, please review the data sheets for us. A tall, serious-faced man rose and arranged the two sets of sheets before him. According to the Carver claim as presented here, he gestured toward one set of books. They arrived at the system and made their first landing on planet two. On January 14th of this year, 2136. The Bogan claim is that they first discovered the system and landed on planet three on January 10th, also of the year 2136. Both parties claim they set out the required signal senders, although neither have been heard by our listening posts here. However, we know that signals from these senders cannot ordinarily be read at distances in excess of 50 light years and the system under consideration is said to be over 60. We have asked the communications department to check with ships and planets nearer the system in question to learn whether or not any signals from it have been received. He paused a moment and looked at his fellow members first, then at the expectant six across the table. I said that both parties have presented complete data. However, it seems to us, after careful scrutiny, that one set of data was obtained from the air and from the surface of three of the five planets and from a height of less than 20 miles above the seven moons and less than five from the other two planets has our regulation specified. The other books clearly show that the observations were all taken from above the surface. There was relief on the faces of the four carvers, nervous side glances between Bogan and his henchmen, none of which escaped the sharp eyes of the five board members, watching closely the reactions of the two opposing parties. We have here the two sets of photographs taken from a height of five miles as specified by our rulings of the town site that we require to be laid out. He held one set out to each party across the table. Please examine them and let us know if you see any differences. There was silence for several long anxious moments. Then after the two groups had studied the photographs handed them, John Carver suddenly let out a gasp and looked up eagerly. May I speak, sirs? You may. This is not the picture we took, indicating one. If you will compare the two, you will find that this one was taken before the work was fully completed. See, there is a gap here along the east side where not all the stakes are in. Oh, his mother looked up quickly and took up the story. Then I was right that time. I did hear a ship. You see, sirs? She addressed the board members more directly. The boys ran out of stakes and had to go to the forest. They are some miles to the northwest of the ship to cut more. Look, you can see the edge of our ship right here on the margin. While they were gone, I thought I heard a ship passing over hours. But when I got to the control room and could look through a plate, either it had gone out of site or I was mistaken. The boys said, when asked after they got back, that they had neither heard nor seen it. They were in the woods at the time. But I believe now that I did hear a ship, that it was Mr. Bogans and that he took this picture at that time. It took the boys nearly a day and a half longer to complete their work and not until after that was our picture taken. The board chairman smiled at her, then turned a severe face toward Bogan and his lieutenant. That is exactly what the pictures show, that only one is complete and the other is not. What have you to say about that? The man's face was black with fury. I say they're liars, he shouted. This one here, shaking the photograph he held, is our picture. That one is theirs. Mr. Carver started to rise, but Jack was before him and it was the latter whose voice cut through the din. Oh no, and I can prove which is our picture, if you will examine all the rest. I did all the developing and printing and you'll find a small C down in the lower right hand corner of all our pictures. I marked all our negatives that way, as you can determine if you'll send someone to our ship to get the negatives from the dark room. The board members huddled over the sheaves of pictures for a moment, then turned severely toward Bogan. The young man is correct, all the Carver pictures are so marked and so is this one of the completed town site. John Carver broke in. Asked them to describe the animal life they found on Planet Three, he suggested. Well, the chairman looked levally at Bogan. Why, why, the latter was quite taking it back by the sudden challenge. Why, there are several species and- And they were more or less like ours here. Although not exactly like them, of course. Ha! That proves he was never on the ground there, John cried out in triumph. We found, and so will anyone else, you care to send there, that while Planet Three has a lot of vegetation and is perfectly habitable, so cold, there is absolutely no protoplasmic life to be found there. At least, he added honestly, on any of the surface we covered, and our ship's log will show, as you can see there, that we flew at less than five miles up for eight complete but spiral revolutions of both the planet and were on the ground in several places, which we explored and photographed thoroughly. The young man is right, Mr. Silverman spoke up. I noticed that fact mentioned in their records and intended asking more about it, because this is the first planet of which I've heard that is otherwise completely habitable by mankind, where such a condition has obtained, where there is voluminous floral life, but no protoplasmic life of any kind. Being something of a botanist, that fact struck me at once. Bogan rose, sneering, but also feeling safe in this part of his claim. Bah, they just didn't happen to sit down in the same place as we did. If they were there at all, we saw lots of animal life there. And you took pictures of such life, Mr. Carver asked pointedly, why no, it isn't required. There was a discrete wrap on the door, and when the chairman gave permission, the receptionist entered and handed him a sheet of paper. He examined it quickly, then passed it to his fellow members. The five conferred together in quick whispers for several minutes, while Bogan and his man glared in sullen anger at the Carvers. Four of the board members finally resumed their seats, while Chairman Wilson stood at his place. He pressed a buzzer, then took up his gavel. He stuck three loud solemn notes with it. It is the considered opinion of the Terran Colonial Board he ressembled in official meeting he intoned. That tad Carver has proven his claim as prime discoverer of the solar system, henceforth to be known as Carveria. And this decision shall be so entered in our records as of this date. Congratulations, he added, smiling as he turned to the happy four, who were attempting the almost impossible task of each hugging all the others at the same time. Bogan and his lieutenant rose wrathfully and started to leave the room. Just a moment, Bogan, Chairman Wilson said authoritatively. You are under arrest for an illegal attempt to defraud by false testimony. Bogan, eyes blazing, suddenly seemed to go berserk. He drew a blaster from an underarm holster and waved it about as he and his man back toward the door. You ain't gonna arrest nobody. We're leaving here and we cinder the first one of you that moves. But unseen by them, the door behind had opened and three space marines, guns in hand, had entered in response to the chairman's buzzed call. Drop that gun, Mr., their leader said sharply. His own muzzle pushed against Bogan's back. The latter, faced livid, did so. In moments, the two pirates were handcuffed. The sergeant saluted the board members. Guards will be sent to the spaceport at once to arrest the other members of the Bogan cruiser, pending examination and trial. Thank you, sergeant. We will prefer charges at once. As the marines started to lead the two away, Bogan pulled back suddenly and faced Mr. Carver. One thing I'd like to know, we were catching up with you fast and all of a sudden you pulled away from us as though we were standing still. Yet we were all in slings and doing three and a half Gs. How'd you do it? Mr. Carver smiled lazily. We're submitting a full report to the space pilot's cassette. You can read it there if they let you read where you're going. He turned back to the board members and a candid expressed thanks of himself and his family. Chairman Wilson held out a sheet of paper. You may be interested in this report. It came from the communication center on Petroc 3 and was the deciding factor in your case. The four clustered close to read. Carver signals heard first, then ceased one by one and the Bogan signals began. Although one Carver signal, the solar one is still heard. Mr. Carver turned to the board members and said, like most crooks, Bogan was yellow. He didn't have nerve enough to run in this close to the sun as these youngsters of mine did and so couldn't change their signal there. The boys are great planet mappers, both of them. End of chapter 15, recording by J.B. Baxter. End of the Planet Mappers by Edward Everett Evans.