Jack of No Trades

populated part of Marsat that. Fate, I guess."

  "Not so strange," said Goil. "It was enroute to Mars."

  "Sure," I said, "but a course usually includes a series of correctionsfor a haul like that."

  Goil said, "No navigator-computer combination is good enough to plan aone-shot course like that. It's just an unfortunate coincidence thatthe industrial area is to be hit."

  And those last words were just what I wanted to hear from him.

  Willy knocked on the door and entered at Goil's request. Willy's facewas long, and the few steps that carried him into the room seemed todraw on his last reserves of energy. He seemed a little grateful whenGoil bade him be seated.

  Goil said, "All right, Willy. Sam says you have something to tell me."

  "Yes, sir," Willy said dolefully, shifting his gaze so that he did nothave to look directly at Goil or me. He hesitated for moments, thenwhen the silence was too thick, he continued.

  "I--I took that generator and that energizer as I told you yesterday."Again he paused, patently dreading what more he had to say.

  "What did you do with such monstrous, expensive pieces of equipment?"asked Goil. "Of what possible use could they be to you, especially outhere in space?"

  "Willy," I said, "why don't you start right at the beginning so Mr.Goil can get a complete picture?"

  Willy looked behind and around me, gulped a couple of times, thenstarted.

  "OK. Well, Martha's birthday--Martha is my wife, Mr. Goil--herbirthday is in a few days. And I missed her last birthday and shenever forgave me for that. And I almost missed this one too, except Igot an idea. And that was after reading about those private satellitesa lot of the rich people have going around Earth.

  * * * * *

  "It was too late for me to send any sort of a birthday present toMartha; besides, what could I get her out here? Anyway, I got the ideathat what a wonderful birthday present it would be if I could getMartha a private satellite. Not one of those prefabricated ones, but anatural, real one. The more I thought about it the better the ideasounded. Then I realized that I had everything here; a millionasteroids to choose from, and I could slip one of the gravitygenerators in the middle of it. And I could hitch the drive from thesmashed tug to it, and install a sub-space energizer. Except for anatmosphere generator it would be equipped enough for a start. I couldfinish equipping it later. So I got an asteroid and took a sub-spaceenergizer and a gravity generator from supply--they areexpendable--and got the drive off the wrecked tug. I installed them onthe rock."

  Willy ended his story abruptly.

  Goil sat looking intently at Willy and drumming his fingers on thedesk top. Finally he said:

  "We can recover those major items. Maybe it'll go easier with you,Willy. If you can show us where this rock is--"

  Willy hung his head again. And the silence became solid. Finally Willysqueaked out:

  "I can't. I sent it off yesterday."

  "Just how and when did you determine the rock should be sent?" askedGoil.

  "I--I got a course tape," said Willy. I could almost feel his sense ofguilt as he virtually implicated one more of his friends.

  "Don't you know," said Goil in an all-too-quiet, ominous voice, "thata jury-rigged contraption like that could never get near Earth withonly a one-time course like that plotted for it? That it takes precisecomputations to get something like that to a destination? _With_ ahuman navigator? Just how did you figure you could do it? I'mcurious."

  "Well," said Willy warming up to the subject a little, "I rigged up atiming unit. When it left here, it was on the taped course for Earth.Then it went into sub-space. From the computations I got, I setanother timer that will kick it back into normal space at the righttime, and in an orbit around Earth."

  The room was silent for a time. Finally the silence exploded with:

  "You damned fool! You dangerous idiot! You've got just enoughknowledge to be able to do something like that, but not enough senseto know it is hopeless and idiotic! I've heard enough. Now, get out ofhere!"

  Willy got out in a stumbling hurry.

  * * * * *

  I stayed. Goil tried to glare me out of the room, but I would havenone of it. I was now ready to go into action. I was by no meanscertain I would be right, but already deep in this mess, what morecould I lose by plunging?

  With a lot more bravado than I really felt, I plunked down on Goil'sdesk top a stack of sheets, a chart, and tapes. Then I put both palmsdown on his desk and leaned over until I looked him squarely in theface. I said:

  "Do you know what is going to happen to that rock of Willy's, Mr.Goil? It's going to come out of sub-space right smack in the path ofthat freighter. It's going to knock that freighter right off course."

  Of course, it sounded like a fantasy, and if I had been in Goil'splace, I would have thought it so. But Goil had been worrying over theimpending loss of his interests, and even the fantastic was somethingto clutch at for the moment.

  "What do you mean?" he asked.

  I nodded to the stuff I had tossed on his desk. "Look at those. Thechart particularly. I got the course plotted by Artie Jones. I checkedthe path and timing of both Willy's asteroid and the freighter.Willy's asteroid is due to come out of sub-space in about six hours atthis point."--I pointed to an X I had marked on the chart--"And thefreighter will be at the same point at the same time."

  Goil said nothing, but examined the chart and the computation figures,and finally the tapes. He shook his head a number of times as if hedidn't want to believe but did not dare not to. Finally, he looked upat me and said:

  "The course and figures seem to check both ways. But I don't believeit. That the rock and the freighter should meet in the same place atthe same time would be more than a coincidence. It would be amiracle."

  "More so than the 'coincidence' of the freighter headed straight forMars's only industrial area?" I asked.

  Goil thought it over for a while. Then he said, "Yes. More than I canimagine. We have the rock and the freighter, two moving bodies,meeting in space by pure chance. Space is too vast for that sort ofthing. It can't happen."

  "Mars and the freighter are two moving bodies in space that are goingto meet," I pointed out.

  "Yes, but the ship was originally headed on a course to Mars. And Marsis much bigger."

  "True," I conceded. "But the asteroid is also on an interceptioncourse with the freighter. And it is a lot bigger than the freighter."

  Goil sat silent and thoughtful for quite a while. Finally, he said:

  "I'm not gullible, Mr. Weston. Nor am I a fool. I have enough interestin Mars to want a miracle to happen, aside from a natural desire tosee disaster averted. But what about you; what are you after? What areyou trying to prove?"

  That was what I had been waiting for.

  * * * * *

  I told him about the Research Institute of Human Influences, for whichI was a field psychologist, and how they located accident prones andsafety prones, among other types of odd personalities, and how weobservers gathered data in efforts to learn ways to nullify theaccident prones' influence, and to learn the whys and hows of thesafety prones, as well as ways to expand their fields of influence.

  Goil just sat there, his face indicating neither belief nor disbelief.

  "Willy has no idea he does what he does, nor why. He's completelyunaware of his influence. I can't imagine how his mind works torationalize for his behavior. I'd do just about anything, Mr. Goil, tokeep Willy from learning all I've told you. It would make him aware,and that might sour things, probably even nullify his influence."

  Goil said, "I'm not at all convinced that this is not some sort oflunatic hoax. But as long as there is nothing I nor you can do for thetime being, I'm going to hold any further action in abeyance. Let'ssee what happens. Even if by some miraculous coincidence the rock andthe ship should meet, that's not proof that your yarn is true."

  "No," I said. "But oth
er things have happened before. Nothing thisbig, though. But always, there is this synergism of Willy's; acompulsion to do some crazy thing, or to build some silly gadget, evenif he has to steal to do it. And the inevitable end that sometimesquite obviously prevents injury, and other times leaving the results amystery. Once the purpose has been accomplished, Willy loses allinterest. I have histories, documented cases of Willy's influence.Files of tape recordings of his synergisms in action. And these filesall show a definite pattern."

  "Let's hear some of your recordings, and read some of your documents,"said Goil.

  And that was how we spent the next four hours.