Three Spacemen Left to Die!Winterbotham, R. R. (Russell Robert)
Science
Three Spacemen Left to Die!
Winterbotham, R. R. (Russell Robert)
Diseases -- Fiction; Interstellar travel -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Space ships -- Fiction
"Except life," said Al. "Now listen, Oakey. I'm still commander. I
know what I'm doing and you take orders from me--or it's mutiny. Yeah,
I know the Quinnies have covered the earth. From the Arctic to the
tropics men died shooting sparks like fireworks. But the earth isn't
the only planet in the Galaxy where men exist. You didn't take that
first trip this ship made, did you, boy?"
Oakey laughed. "That was ten years ago. I was a kid in high school
then."
* * * * *
Al flipped the cylinder closed and made sure the gun was ready to use.
"We went to another system," he said. "A fluke, maybe. Or maybe the Old
Man planned it. He believed in interstellar travel by dimensional short
cuts. I was third mate, like you. I fingered the controls and he gave
me the figures. Something like a double right-angle repeated twice.
I was dizzy as hell when I finally put old Wagon Wheel on a straight
course, but after I blinked my eyes a couple of times and looked out
through a porthole, I knew that the Old Man was right. There was the
cutest little green planet, and the nicest, warmest fourth-magnitude
sun you ever saw." He smiled and the hard lines disappeared for a
moment. "Where are we now?"
"Sixty-three, seven, ninety-one. At 1300. I can work it down to twelve
decimals, sir, if you want--"
"Never mind. Just watch the instruments. The chronometer lines will
tell you when."
Al stuffed the revolver under his belt in the front of his trousers.
"We're going back to that planet, Oakey. A pretty little place, soft
and warm as a tropical isle. And there were nice looking people
there--human beings like us." Al closed his eyes. "Such women. Nice
round shoulders. Soft brown eyes you could spend a lifetime looking
into. There was one...."
Al paused while his fingers seemed to caress the butt of the pistol.
"She called herself something like Dwea.... I taught her to speak
English a little." The commander shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you'll
find a girl there, Oakey. Maybe I'll see mine again. That was ten
years ago." He chuckled. "She's probably got a husband and six kids
now."
Al took a step toward the doorway marked C, one of four, each leading
to a quadrant of the wagon wheel.
"Please, sir," said Oakey. "Don't--"
Al pulled open the door. "Time's getting short and we can't take the
Quinnies to that planet with us." A sweep of centrifugal force caught
him as he opened the door. His big, hairy hand caught the rung of a
ladder beside the door. "Joe went on that trip. He and I were the only
ones of the crew that didn't catch the Quinnies the minute we landed
back on earth. We ducked out again, shipping with a new commander with
a new crew on old Wagon Wheel again. We went to Ganymede."
"Yeah," said Oakey. "I was cabin boy on that trip. My first space
flight. Maybe that's how I escaped the Quinnies too." Oakey glanced at
the chronometer. "We've still got fifty-five minutes. Why don't you
wait twenty minutes or so?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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