Mr. Spaceship

Gross looked at Kramer. "No change.Nothing."

  "Wait."

  Slowly, the ship was beginning to turn. The turbines missed, reducingtheir steady beat. The ship was taking up its new course, adjustingitself. Nearby some space debris rushed past, incinerating in theblasts of the turbine jets.

  "So far so good," Gross said.

  They began to breathe more easily. The invisible pilot had takencontrol smoothly, calmly. The ship was in good hands. Kramer spoke afew more words into the microphone, and they swung again. Now theywere moving back the way they had come, toward the moon.

  "Let's see what he does when we enter the moon's pull," Kramer said."He was a good mathematician, the old man. He could handle any kind ofproblem."

  The ship veered, turning away from the moon. The great eaten-awayglobe fell behind them.

  Gross breathed a sigh of relief. "That's that."

  "One more thing." Kramer picked up the microphone. "Return to the moonand land the ship at the first space field," he said into it.

  "Good Lord," Winter murmured. "Why are you--"

  "Be quiet." Kramer stood, listening. The turbines gasped and roared asthe ship swung full around, gaining speed. They were moving back, backtoward the moon again. The ship dipped down, heading toward the greatglobe below.

  "We're going a little fast," the Pilot said. "I don't see how he canput down at this velocity."

  * * * * *

  The port filled up, as the globe swelled rapidly. The Pilot hurriedtoward the board, reaching for the controls. All at once the shipjerked. The nose lifted and the ship shot out into space, away fromthe moon, turning at an oblique angle. The men were thrown to thefloor by the sudden change in course. They got to their feet again,speechless, staring at each other.

  The Pilot gazed down at the board. "It wasn't me! I didn't touch athing. I didn't even get to it."

  The ship was gaining speed each moment. Kramer hesitated. "Maybe youbetter switch it back to manual."

  The Pilot closed the switch. He took hold of the steering controls andmoved them experimentally. "Nothing." He turned around. "Nothing. Itdoesn't respond."

  No one spoke.

  "You can see what has happened," Kramer said calmly. "The old manwon't let go of it, now that he has it. I was afraid of this when Isaw the wiring changes. Everything in this ship is centrallycontrolled, even the cooling system, the hatches, the garbage release.We're helpless."

  "Nonsense." Gross strode to the board. He took hold of the wheel andturned it. The ship continued on its course, moving away from themoon, leaving it behind.

  "Release!" Kramer said into the microphone. "Let go of the controls!We'll take it back. Release."

  "No good," the Pilot said. "Nothing." He spun the useless wheel. "It'sdead, completely dead."

  "And we're still heading out," Winter said, grinning foolishly. "We'llbe going through the first-line defense belt in a few minutes. If theydon't shoot us down--"

  "We better radio back." The Pilot clicked the radio to _send_. "I'llcontact the main bases, one of the observation stations."

  "Better get the defense belt, at the speed we're going. We'll be intoit in a minute."

  "And after that," Kramer said, "we'll be in outer space. He's movingus toward outspace velocity. Is this ship equipped with baths?"

  "Baths?" Gross said.

  "The sleep tanks. For space-drive. We may need them if we go muchfaster."

  "But good God, where are we going?" Gross said. "Where--where's hetaking us?"

  * * * * *

  The Pilot obtained contact. "This is Dwight, on ship," he said. "We'reentering the defense zone at high velocity. Don't fire on us."

  "Turn back," the impersonal voice came through the speaker. "You'renot allowed in the defense zone."

  "We can't. We've lost control."

  "Lost control?"

  "This is an experimental ship."

  Gross took the radio. "This is Commander Gross, Security. We're beingcarried into outer space. There's nothing we can do. Is there any waythat we can be removed from this ship?"

  A hesitation. "We have some fast pursuit ships that could pick you upif you wanted to jump. The chances are good they'd find you. Do youhave space flares?"

  "We do," the Pilot said. "Let's try it."

  "Abandon ship?" Kramer said. "If we leave now we'll never see itagain."

  "What else can we do? We're gaining speed all the time. Do you proposethat we stay here?"

  "No." Kramer shook his head. "Damn it, there ought to be a bettersolution."

  "Could you contact _him_?" Winter asked. "The Old Man? Try to reasonwith him?"

  "It's worth a chance," Gross said. "Try it."

  "All right." Kramer took the microphone. He paused a moment. "Listen!Can you hear me? This is Phil Kramer. Can you hear me, Professor. Canyou hear me? I want you to release the controls."

  There was silence.

  "This is Kramer, Professor. Can you hear me? Do you remember who I am?Do you understand who this is?"

  Above the control panel the wall speaker made a sound, a sputteringstatic. They looked up.

  "Can you hear me, Professor. This is Philip Kramer. I want you to givethe ship back to us. If you can hear me, release the controls! Let go,Professor. Let go!"

  Static. A rushing sound, like the wind. They gazed at each other.There was silence for a moment.

  "It's a waste of time," Gross said.

  "No--listen!"

  The sputter came again. Then, mixed with the sputter, almost lost init, a voice came, toneless, without inflection, a mechanical, lifelessvoice from the metal speaker in the wall, above their heads.

  "... Is it you, Philip? I can't make you out. Darkness.... Who'sthere? With you...."

  "It's me, Kramer." His fingers tightened against the microphonehandle. "You must release the controls, Professor. We have to get backto Terra. You must."

  Silence. Then the faint, faltering voice came again, a little strongerthan before. "Kramer. Everything so strange. I was right, though.Consciousness result of thinking. Necessary result. Cognito ergo sum.Retain conceptual ability. Can you hear me?"

  "Yes, Professor--"

  "I altered the wiring. Control. I was fairly certain.... I wonder if Ican do it. Try...."

  Suddenly the air-conditioning snapped into operation. It snappedabruptly off again. Down the corridor a door slammed. Somethingthudded. The men stood listening. Sounds came from all sides of them,switches shutting, opening. The lights blinked off; they were indarkness. The lights came back on, and at the same time the heatingcoils dimmed and faded.

  "Good God!" Winter said.

  Water poured down on them, the emergency fire-fighting system. Therewas a screaming rush of air. One of the escape hatches had slid back,and the air was roaring frantically out into space.

  The hatch banged closed. The ship subsided into silence. The heatingcoils glowed into life. As suddenly as it had begun the weirdexhibition ceased.

  "I can do--everything," the dry, toneless voice came from the wallspeaker. "It is all controlled. Kramer, I wish to talk to you. I'vebeen--been thinking. I haven't seen you in many years. A lot todiscuss. You've changed, boy. We have much to discuss. Your wife--"

  The Pilot grabbed Kramer's arm. "There's a ship standing off our bow.Look."

  * * * * *

  They ran to the port. A slender pale craft was moving along with them,keeping pace with them. It was signal-blinking.

  "A Terran pursuit ship," the Pilot said. "Let's jump. They'll pick usup. Suits--"

  He ran to a supply cupboard and turned the handle. The door opened andhe pulled the suits out onto the floor.

  "Hurry," Gross said. A panic seized them. They dressed frantically,pulling the heavy garments over them. Winter staggered to the escapehatch and stood by it, waiting for the others. They joined him, one byone.

  "Let's go!" Gross said. "Open the hatch."

  Win
ter tugged at the hatch. "Help me."

  They grabbed hold, tugging together. Nothing happened. The hatchrefused to budge.

  "Get a crowbar," the Pilot said.

  "Hasn't anyone got a blaster?" Gross looked frantically around. "Damnit, blast it open!"

  "Pull," Kramer grated. "Pull together."

  "Are you at the hatch?" the toneless voice came, drifting and eddyingthrough the corridors of the ship. They looked up, staring aroundthem. "I sense something nearby, outside. A ship? You are leaving, allof you? Kramer, you are leaving, too? Very unfortunate. I had hoped wecould talk. Perhaps at some other time you might be induced toremain."

  "Open the hatch!" Kramer said, staring up at the impersonal walls ofthe ship. "For God's sake, open it!"

  There was silence, an endless pause. Then, very slowly, the hatch slidback. The air screamed out, rushing past them into space.

  One by one they leaped, one after the other, propelled away by therepulsive material of the suits. A few minutes later they were beinghauled aboard the pursuit ship. As the last one of them was liftedthrough the port, their own ship pointed itself suddenly upward andshot off at tremendous speed. It disappeared.

  Kramer removed his helmet, gasping. Two sailors held onto him andbegan to wrap him in blankets. Gross sipped a mug of coffee,shivering.

  "It's gone," Kramer murmured.

  "I'll have an alarm sent out," Gross said.

  "What's happened to your ship?" a sailor asked curiously. "It suretook off in a hurry. Who's on it?"

  "We'll have to have it destroyed," Gross went on, his face grim. "It'sgot to be destroyed. There's no telling what it--what _he_ has inmind." Gross sat down weakly on a metal bench. "What a close call forus. We were so damn trusting."

  "What could he be planning," Kramer said, half to himself. "It doesn'tmake sense. I don't get it."

  * * * * *

  As the ship sped back toward the moon base they sat around the tablein the dining room, sipping hot coffee and thinking, not saying verymuch.

  "Look here," Gross said at last. "What kind of man was ProfessorThomas? What do you remember about him?"

  Kramer put his coffee mug down. "It was ten years ago. I don'tremember much. It's vague."

  He let his mind run back over the years. He and Dolores had been atHunt College together, in physics and the life sciences. The Collegewas small and set back away from the momentum of modern life. He hadgone there because it was his home town, and his father had gone therebefore him.

  Professor Thomas had been at the College a long time, as long asanyone could remember. He was a strange old man, keeping to himselfmost of the time. There were many things that he disapproved of, buthe seldom said what they were.

  "Do you recall anything that might help us?" Gross asked. "Anythingthat would give us a clue as to what he might have in mind?"

  Kramer nodded slowly. "I remember one thing...."

  One day he and the Professor had been sitting together in the schoolchapel, talking leisurely.

  "Well, you'll be out of school, soon," the Professor had said. "Whatare you going to do?"

  "Do? Work at one of the Government Research Projects, I suppose."

  "And eventually? What's your ultimate goal?"

  Kramer had smiled. "The question is unscientific. It presupposes suchthings as ultimate ends."

  "Suppose instead along these lines, then: What if there were no warand no Government Research Projects? What would you do, then?"

  "I don't know. But how can I imagine a hypothetical situation likethat? There's been war as long as I can remember. We're geared forwar. I don't know what I'd do. I suppose I'd adjust, get used to it."

  The Professor had stared at him. "Oh, you do think you'd getaccustomed to it, eh? Well, I'm glad of that. And you think you couldfind something to do?"

  Gross listened intently. "What do you infer from this, Kramer?"

  "Not much. Except that he was against war."

  "We're all against war," Gross pointed out.

  "True. But he was withdrawn, set apart. He lived very simply, cookinghis own meals. His wife died many years ago. He was born in Europe, inItaly. He changed his name when he came to the United States. He usedto read Dante and Milton. He even had a Bible."

  "Very anachronistic, don't you think?"

  "Yes, he lived quite a lot in the past. He found an old phonograph andrecords, and he listened to the old music. You saw his house, howold-fashioned it was."

  "Did he have a file?" Winter asked Gross.

  "With Security? No, none at all. As far as we could tell he neverengaged in political work, never joined anything or even seemed tohave strong political convictions."

  "No," Kramer, agreed. "About all he ever did was walk through thehills. He liked nature."

  "Nature can be of great use to a scientist," Gross said. "Therewouldn't be any science without it."

  "Kramer, what do you think his plan is, taking control of the ship anddisappearing?" Winter said.

  "Maybe the transfer made him insane," the Pilot said. "Maybe there'sno plan, nothing rational at all."

  "But he had the ship rewired, and he had made sure that he wouldretain consciousness and memory before he even agreed to theoperation. He must have had something planned from the start. Butwhat?"

  "Perhaps he just wanted to stay alive longer," Kramer said. "He wasold and about to die. Or--"

  "Or what?"

  "Nothing." Kramer stood up. "I think as soon as we get to the moonbase I'll make a vidcall to earth. I want to talk to somebody aboutthis."

  "Who's that?" Gross asked.

  "Dolores. Maybe she remembers something."

  "That's a good idea," Gross said.

  * * * * *

  "Where are you calling from?" Dolores asked, when he succeeded inreaching her.

  "From the moon base."

  "All kinds of rumors are running around. Why didn't the ship comeback? What happened?"

  "I'm afraid he ran off with it."

  "He?"

  "The Old Man. Professor Thomas." Kramer explained what had happened.

  Dolores listened intently. "How strange. And you think he planned itall in advance, from the start?"

  "I'm certain. He asked for the plans of construction and thetheoretical diagrams at once."

  "But why? What for?"

  "I don't know. Look, Dolores. What do you remember about him? Is thereanything that might give a clue to all this?"

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. That's the trouble."

  On the vidscreen Dolores knitted her brow. "I remember he raisedchickens in his back yard, and once he had a goat." She smiled. "Doyou remember the day the goat got loose and wandered down the mainstreet of town? Nobody could figure out where it came from."

  "Anything else?"

  "No." He watched her struggling, trying to remember. "He wanted tohave a farm, sometime, I know."

  "All right. Thanks." Kramer touched the switch. "When I get back toTerra maybe I'll stop and see you."

  "Let me know how it works out."

  He cut the line and the picture dimmed and faded. He walked slowlyback to where Gross and some officers of the Military were sitting ata chart table, talking.

  "Any luck?" Gross said, looking up.

  "No. All she remembers is that he kept a goat."

  "Come over and look at this detail chart." Gross motioned him aroundto his side. "Watch!"

  Kramer saw the record tabs moving furiously, the little white dotsracing back and forth.

  "What's happening?" he asked.

  "A squadron outside the defense zone has finally managed to contactthe ship. They're maneuvering now, for position. Watch."

  The white counters were forming a barrel formation around a black dotthat was moving steadily across the board, away from the centralposition. As they watched, the white dots constricted around it.

  "They're ready to open fire," a technician at the
board said."Commander, what shall we tell them to do?"

  Gross hesitated. "I hate to be the one who makes the decision. When itcomes right down to it--"

  "It's not just a ship," Kramer said. "It's a man, a living person. Ahuman being is up there, moving through space. I wish we knew what--"

  "But the order has to be given. We can't take any chances. Suppose hewent over to them, to the yuks."

  Kramer's jaw dropped. "My God, he wouldn't do that."

  "Are you sure? Do you know what he'll do?"

  "He wouldn't do that."

  Gross turned to the technician. "Tell them to go ahead."

  "I'm sorry,