The Captain got up and began pacing, slowly and steadily, as if the
problem could be trodden out like ripe grapes. He closed his eyes and
said, "I've been circling around that idea for thirty minutes now. Look:
the hull can't be cut because it is built so it can't fail. It doesn't
fail. The port controls were also built so they wouldn't fail. They do
fail. The thing that keeps us in stays in shape. The thing that lets us
out goes bad. Effect: we stay inside. Cause: something that wants us to
stay inside."
"Oh," said Johnny clearly.
They looked at him. He raised his head, stiffened his spine against the
bulkhead. Paresi smiled at him. "Sure, Johnny. The machine didn't fail.
It was--controlled. It's all right." Then he turned to the Captain and
said carefully, "I'm not denying what you say, Skipper. But I don't like
to think of what will happen if you take that tack, reason it through,
and don't get any answers."
"I'd hate to be a psychologist," said Ives fervently. "Do you
extrapolate your mastications, too, and get frightened of the stink you
might get?"
Paresi smiled coldly. "I control my projections."
Captain Anderson's lips twitched in passing amusement, and then his
expression sobered. "I'll take the challenge, Paresi. We have a cause
and an effect. Something is keeping us in the ship. Corollary: We--or
perhaps the ship--we're not welcome."
"_Men of Earth,_" quoted Ives, in an excellent imitation of the
accentless English they had heard on the radio, "_welcome to our
planet._"
"They're kidding," said Johnny heartily, rising to his feet. He dropped
the control wheel with a clang and shoved it carelessly aside with his
foot. "Who ever says exactly what they mean anyhow? I see that
conclusion the head-shrinker's afraid you'll get to, Skipper. If we
can't leave the ship, the only other thing we can do is to leave the
planet. That it?"
Paresi nodded and watched the Captain closely. Anderson turned abruptly
away from them all and stood, feet apart, head down, hands behind his
back, and stared out of the forward viewports. In the tense silence they
could hear his knuckles crack. At length he said quietly, "That isn't
what we came here for, Johnny."
Johnny shrugged. "Okay. Chew it up all you like, fellers. The only other
choice is to sit here like bugs in a bottle until we die of old age.
When you get tired of thinking that over, just let me know. I'll fly you
out."
"We can always depend on Johnny," said Paresi with no detectible
emphasis at all.
"Not on me," said Johnny, and swatted the bulkhead. "On the ship.
Nothing on any planet can stop this baby once I pour on the coal. She's
just got too much muscles."
"Well, Captain?" asked Hoskins softly.
Anderson looked at the basking valley, at the too-blue sky and the
near-familiar, mellow-weathered crags. They waited.
"Take her up," said the Captain. "Put her in orbit at two hundred kilos.
I'm not giving up this easily."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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