Henry Still

“ Bert gasped.
A group of tiny figures broke away from the rim of the space station. The tugmen were coming to help.
Then Kevin grasped the hideous truth. There were not enough rocket pistols to bring the men to the full ship and return with any reserve to guide the projectile.
"Get back!" he shouted. "Save the pistols. We're coming in."
Behind them their only chance for life continued serenely upward into a new orbit. There, 900 miles above the earth, it would revolve forever with more fuel in its tanks than it needed.
Fuel that would have saved the lives of 90 desperate men. ”

“ Kevin whispered meditatively. The moon rocket, floating there outside the station's rim was ugly, designed never to touch a planet's atmosphere, but it was the most beautiful thing man had ever built, assembled in space from individual fragments boosted laboriously from the Earth's surface.
Another clatter of footsteps approached the hatch. Max Gordon entered and stood at attention as Senator McKelvie made a dignified entrance. The senator wore an adhesive patch on his high forehead. He turned to Kramer.
"Young man," he rumbled, "are you the fool risking your life in that—that thing out there? ”

“ The music was supposed to have its roots in antiquity when someone started converting the metal wealth of the earth on an assembly line. Those screeching noises were drill presses and lathes and automatic hammers. The syrupy melody was the saintly salesman who disbursed the wealth of gadget and machine like melted butter across the bread of the land.
Perry tried to like it. But he didn't. And that disturbed him. It meant his psychotherapy wasn't working. Dr. Stone would run him through the mechanical analyzer again and scold over the results. ”

“ A wrenching tug jostled the space station structure. The rocket was gone, and with it the power that might have saved all of them.
Morrow ran again. He had not stopped running since the beginning of this nightmare.
He tumbled over Bert and Jones in the tube. They scrambled after him back to the control room. The three men watched through the port.
"If he doesn't hit the atmosphere too quick, too hard ..." Kevin whispered. His fists were clenched. He felt no malice at this moment. He did not wish them death. There was no sound in the radio. ”

“ For three years they've been building a rocket—the moon rocket, they call it—out there at the space station.
"I haven't seen that rocket," the senator had continued. "All I've seen is five billion of your tax dollars flying into the vacuum of space. They tell me a man named Mark Kramer is going to fly out in that rocket and circle the moon.
"But he will fail," McKelvie had promised. "If God had intended man to fly to the moon, he would have given us wings to do it. Tomorrow I shall fly out to this space station, even at the risk of my life. ”

“ Perry asked crossly.
"Serve-All does all," his visitor said cryptically and smiled the smile that's known around the world. Perry would have no opportunity to shut out the Master Salesman. He was in.
"You are Mr. Mansfield?"
"Yes sir," Perry said, uncertain of decorum.
"My name is Marlboro," the MS said in melodius tones. "Master is the proper term used in addressing us. Please sit down."
"Yes, Master," Perry said. He felt like a fool and sat down.
"Breakfast will be served in a few moments," Marlboro said. ”

“ Escape! He must be out of the house when the repair machine arrived. He must run and keep running, from the law and the Master Salesman and Serve-All, Inc.
How much time did he have? Not more than a few minutes for the smooth central machinery to reach across the city to him; machinery which even now was on its way to rescue a damaged brother.
Perry snatched his coat from the closet and ran to the door.
Food. If he would hide from the methodical meat grinder of society, he must have food to live. He raced to the kitchen bar. ”

“ Kevin tried to keep his voice calm, but the lives of 90 men rode on it, on his ability to project his words through the crazy hash of static lacing this part of space from the multitude of radio stars. A power rocket with extra fuel was the only instrument that could return the space station to its normal orbit. ”

“ Marlboro was there. A judge was there. And on each of two tables squatted a metal box with voice tubes. A bailiff guided him to his table and placed the voice tube in his hand.
"You're late Mr. Mansfield," the judge snapped. "Justice must be swift and you're impeding it." He lifted a printed card and scanned it near-sightedly for a moment. "You're here charged with violating the public interest by failing to purchase an item which you are able to consume and which you can afford to buy."
"There's no law against—" Perry began indignantly. ”

“ Then Morrow remembered the Earth rocket that had brought Senator McKelvie to the great white sausage in space.
That rocket still contained a small quantity of fuel.
If fired at the precise moment, that fuel, anchored with the rocket in the hub socket, might be enough to lift the entire station.
He shouted instructions and men raced to obey. Kevin, himself, raced into the nearest tube. There was no sound, but ahead of him the hatch was open to the discharge chamber. He leaped into the zero gravity room. ”

“ It seems impossible that anyone could have been so crude as to turn away one of those sturdy pioneers at the door."
Perry shifted uncomfortably. He had been prepared to turn away one of the Great Men at his door.
"Ah!" Marlboro exclaimed. "Your bacon is ready, young man."
At a flick of the salesman's finger, the golden strips of meat lifted into the air and floated to an absorbent mat on the table. Perry stared. Not a bubble of fat had fallen to the floor in passage.
"How did you do that?"
"Serve-All does all," the MS said coyly.
"Mine doesn't," Perry said. ”

“ S & D means, in simple terms, that when there is a supply of something, a demand must be created to consume it. That is why we have Master Salesmen. That is why they are the staunchest and most highly-respected citizens in our land."
He bowed to Marlboro who assumed a benevolent smile.
"This court decrees," the judge said sternly, "that you are to purchase an item known as the 2087 Serve-All from Master Salesman Marlboro and customary steps will be taken to attach your future salary to satisfy the stipulated payment schedule. Court dismissed."
Perry was too stunned to move. ”

“ In the airlock the men armed themselves with three heavy rocket pistols each. Morrow ordered other tugmen into suits for standby.
"I wish I could do this alone, Bert," he said soberly. "But I'm glad you're coming along. If we miss, there won't be a second chance."
They knew approximately when they would pass over the rocket launching base, but this time it would be different. The space station would pass at 750 miles altitude and with a new velocity. No one could be sure the feeder rocket would make it. Unless maximum fuel had been adjusted carefully, it might orbit out of reach below them. ”

“ Mansfield. A joke's a joke. If your credit rating wasn't the finest, I wouldn't be here. I know, and you know, your income is mortgaged for only 15 more years and your life expectancy is at least 50."
Perry moved uneasily toward the bathroom. An invisible finger of energy opened the door for him.
"If you don't mind," he said angrily, "this is something I'm quite capable of doing for myself." He slammed the door.
But the Serve-All flushed the toilet for him.
When he emerged, Marlboro's patience also was gone. ”

“ He turned to Gordon and McKelvie. "Won't it be interesting if we freeze to death, or suffocate when the air machines stop?"
Worry replaced anger as he turned abruptly away from them.
"We've got a lot of work to do, Bert," he said crisply. "See if you can get White Sands."
"It's over the horizon, I'll try South Africa." Anderson worked with the voice radio but static obliterated reception. "Here comes a Morse transmission," he said at last. Morrow read slowly as tape fed out of the translator:
"Radar shows moon rocket in proper trajectory. Where are you?" ”

“ With deceptive ease, the four human tugs attached magnetic shoes and guided the projectile into the space station hub with short, expert blasts of heavy rocket pistols.
"Take over Bert," Morrow directed, "I guess I'm the official greeter." He hurried out of the control room, through a short connecting tube and emerged floating in the central space surrounding the hub where artificial gravity fell to zero. Air pressure was normal to transfer passengers without space suits. ”

“ Bert Alexander radioed quiet instructions to the tugmen.
"Why the hell couldn't he stay down there and mind his own business?" Kevin growled. "McKelvie's been after our hide ever since we got the appropriation, and now this." He slapped the flimsy radio-gram.
He looked up as the control room hatch opened. Jones came in from the astronomy section.
"Morning, commander," he said. "You guys had breakfast yet? Mess closes in 30 minutes." Kevin shook his head.
"We're not hungry," Bert filled in.
"You think you've got nerves?" Jones chuckled. "I just looked in on Mark. He's sleeping like a baby. ”

“ The jurist paused thoughtfully.
"I think, Mr. Mansfield, that you should relearn the basic tenets of our society and economy. First, Consumption is Prosperity and that derives from the ancient law of Supply and Demand. ”

“ Already Bert was racing down the tube to the power compartment. Minutes later, the intercom dial flickered red. Morrow yelled again.
"You've got to keep power to this radar set for the next half-hour. Everything else can stop, even the air machines, but we've got to find out where we're going."
The space station turned again. Power resumed and Kevin picked up the plot.
"We're 6000 miles out!" he breathed.
"But it's flattening," Jones cried. "The curve's flattening!" Bert loped back into the control room. Jones snatched the pencil from his superior. ”

“ Morrow turned to Anderson.
"Bert. There are four tubes leading into the hub. Get men and open the outer airlocks. Then standby the four inner locks. When I give the signal, open those locks, fast. You may have to pull to help the machinery—you'll be fighting three times normal air pressure."
Bert ran out. Nothing now but to wait. Five minutes passed. Ten.
"We're at 135 miles," Jones said. Far below the Earth wheeled by, its apparent motion exaggerated as the space station swooped lower. ”

“ It'll be a snap. After all, I'll never make over two gees and pick up 7000 mph to leave you guys behind. Then I play ring around the rosy, take a look at Luna's off side and come home. Just like that. ”