Henry Kuttner

“ Ts’ss shrugged. “The reason I keep shipping on La Cucaracha is because I can be busy and efficient aboard, and planets aren’t for Selenites any more. We’ve lost our own world. It died long ago. But I still remember the old traditions of our Empire. If a tradition ever becomes great, it’s because of the men who dedicate themselves to it. That’s why anything ever became great. And it’s why hyper-ships came to mean something, Mr. Hilton. There were men who lived and breathed hyper-ships. Men who worshipped hyper-ships, as a man worships a god. ”

“ Hilton said. “Get into hyper somehow, ride the flow, and get out again somehow. But then we’re stuck. Any planet or sun with a gravity pull would smash us. The trouble is, the only worlds with facilities to overhaul La Cucaracha are the big ones. And if we don’t get an overhaul fast we’re through. Saxon, there’s one answer, though. Land on an asteroid.”
“But why?”
“We could manage that. No gravity to fight, worth mentioning. We certainly can’t radio for help, as the signals would take years to reach anybody. Only hyper will take us fast enough. ”

“ Far above, Danvers and Hilton leaned on the railing and watched.
“She’s ready to jet,” Hilton said idly. “And she looks good.”
“No thanks to you, mister.”
“Tush for that!” Hilton said. “If I hadn’t doped you, we’d be dead and La Cucaracha floating around in space in pieces. Now look at her.”
“Yeah. Well, she does look good. But she won’t carry another paraine cargo. That strike was mine. If you hadn’t told Transmat the location, we’d be set.” Danvers grimaced. “Now they’re setting up a Transmat station there; a hyper-ship can’t compete with a matter-transmitter.” ”

“ If we went back into normal space, the impact might tear La Cucaracha into tiny pieces. We’d be in suits, floating free, a hundred million miles from the nearest planet. Right now we’re in a fast hyper-flow heading for the edge of the universe, apparently.”
“There’s one planet within reach,” Danvers said.
“Sure. The one that’s thirty thousand miles from a double primary. And nothing else.”
“Well? Suppose we do crack up? We can make repairs once we land on a planet. We can get the materials we need. You can’t do that in deep space. I know landing on this world will be a job. ”

“ Saxon stared after the broad, retreating back, going the way it had come, toward the Refitting Station where Danvers and La Cucaracha waited. Hilton—going back where he had come from, back to what he had never really left.
“The crazy fool!” Saxon said. “He can’t be doing this! Nobody turns down jobs with Transmat!”
Ts’ss gave him a wise, impassive glance. “You believe that,” he said. “Transmat means much to you. Transmat needs men like you, to make it great—to keep it growing. You’re a lucky man, Saxon. You’re riding with the tide. ”

“ Hilton grabbed a mike.
“Repair crew!” he yelled. “Get out on the skin and check jet A-six. Move!”
He turned back to his charts, chewing his lip and glancing at the pilot, a tiny, inhuman Selenite, with his arachnoid multiple limbs and fragile-seeming body. Ts’ss—that was his name, or approximated it—was wearing the awkward audio-converter mask that could make his sub-sonic voice audible to human ears, but, unlike Hilton, he wasn’t wearing space-armor. No Lunarian ever needed protection against deep space. In their million years on the Moon, they had got used to airlessness. ”

“ The little sparks of worlds and suns glowed in its immensity, but never brightened it. It was too vast, too implacable. And even the giant suns would be quenched in its ocean, in the end. As everything else would be quenched, as everything moved on the tides of time into that huge darkness. ”

“ Captain Danvers will never believe the hyper-ships are passing. He will be a hyper-ship man until he dies. Such men make causes great—but when they outlive their cause, they are tragic figures.”
“Well, I’m not that crazy,” Hilton growled. “I’m going into some other game. Transmat or something. You’re a technician. Why don’t you come with me after this voyage?”
“I like the Big Night,” Ts’ss said. “And I have no world of my own—no living world. There is nothing to—to make me want success, Mr. Hilton. On La Cucaracha I can do as I want. ”

“ You’re a hyper-ship man!”
“In twenty years there won’t be a hyper-ship running,” Hilton said.
“You’re a liar. There’ll be one.”
“She’ll fall apart in a coupla of months!” Hilton said angrily. “I’m not going to argue. What are we after on Fria, the fungus?”
After a pause Danvers answered.
“What else is there on Fria? Sure, the fungus. It’s pushing the season a little. We’re not due there for three weeks Earth-time, but Christie always keeps a supply on hand. And that big hotel chain will pay us the regular cut. ”

“ Hilton called him back.
“I’ll do my best for you, Saxon. But we’re in the Big Night now. You’re not in civilized space. Don’t forget that the skipper knows you’re a Transmat man, and he hates your insides. On a hyper-ship, the Old Man’s word is law. So—for your own sake—watch your step!”
Saxon caught the implication. He paled slightly, and after that managed to avoid the captain.
Hilton kept busy checking and rechecking La Cucaracha. No outside repairs could be done in hyper, for there was no gravity, and ordinary physical laws were inoperative—magnetic shoes, for example, wouldn’t work. ”

“ Ts’ss bent again above the controls. La Cucaracha fled on through the white hyper-flow, riding as smoothly as the day she had been launched.
But when they reached Fria, it would be rough space and high gravity. Hilton grimaced.
He thought: So what? This is just another voyage. The fate of the universe doesn’t depend on it. Nothing depends on it, except, maybe, whether we make enough profit to have the old lady overhauled. ”

“ I shall go there to die, Saxon. Every man has one thing that is strongest—and so it is with me. I must die on my own world. As for Captain Danvers, he follows his cause, as our Chyra Emperor did, and as your King Arthur did. Men like Danvers made hyper-ships great. Now the cause is dead, but the type of men who made it great once can’t change their allegiance. If they could, they would never have spanned the Galaxy with their ships. So Danvers will stay with La Cucaracha. And Hilton—”
“He’s not a fanatic! ”

“ Hilton. Earthmen are babies compared to the Selenites. Hyper-ships are fading out, and eventually Transmat will fade out too, when something else comes.”
“We won’t fade,” Hilton said, rather surprised to find himself defending the skipper’s philosophy. “Your people haven’t—you Selenites.”
“Some of us are left, that’s true,” Ts’ss said softly. “Not many. The great days of the Selenite Empire passed very long ago. But there are still a few Selenites left, like me.”
“You keep going, don’t you? You can’t kill off a—a race.” ”

“ The skipper ignored them.
“Dzann!” he said. “Why aren’t you wearing your armor? Put it on. The rest of you—get to your stations. You too, Mr. Wiggins. I’ll handle this.”
Still Wiggins hesitated. He started to say something.
“What are you waiting for?” Hilton said. “Tell Bruno to bring some coffee. Now beat it.” He maneuvered himself into a sitting position on his bunk. From the tail of his eye he saw Wiggins and the others go out. Dzann, the Canopian, had picked up a suit from the corner and was awkwardly getting into it.
Danvers carefully closed the door, testing the broken lock. ”

“ Hilton glanced at Danvers. The skipper was purple now, but his mouth was clamped tightly.
“But—hold on, Chris. How can Transmat get around that? By sending the crude ores to Earth in their gadgets?”
“The way I heard it,” Christie said, “is that they’re going to send the refining machines here and set ’em up right on Fria. All they need for that is one of their transmitters. The field can be expanded to take almost anything, you know. Shucks you could move a planet that way if you had the power! They’ll do the refining here and transmit the refined ores back Earthside.” ”

“ When the skipper sees her after the overhaul, he’ll know it was the only thing to do. So let’s get busy.”
“Remind me to tell you about Silenus,” Ts’ss said.
The Lunar Refitting Station is enormous. A crater has been roofed with a transparent dome, and under it the hyper-ships rest in their cradles. They come in battered and broken, and leave clean and sleek and strong, ready for the Big Night again. La Cucaracha was down there, no longer the groaning wreck that had settled on the Rigel asteroid, but a lovely lady, shining and beautiful. ”

“ Well—he’s a Transmat engineer.” Hilton went on quickly before the skipper could speak. “That was a mistake. The crimp’s mistake and ours. Transmat stands behind its men. Saxon looked up the Transmat crew on Fria, and their superintendent paid me a visit. We’re in for trouble. A damage suit. But there’s one way out. No hyper-ship’s due to hit Fria for months and the matter-transmitter won’t be finished within two months. And it seems Transmat has a shortage of engineers. If we can get Saxon back to Venus or Earth fast, he’ll cover. There’ll be no suit.” ”

“ Hyper stations. All right?”
“Yeah, I’m in my suit,” Danvers’ voice said. “Can you take it? Need me? What’s wrong with Ts’ss?”
“The vocor at my board blew out, Cap’n,” Ts’ss said. “I couldn’t reach the auxiliary.”
“We must need an overhaul bad,” Danvers said, and cut off.
Hilton grinned. “We need a rebuilding job,” he muttered, and let his fingers hang over the control buttons, ready in case Ts’ss slipped.
But the Selenite was like a precision machine; he never slipped. The old Cucaracha shook in every brace. The atomic engines channeled fantastic amounts of energy into the dimensional gap. ”

“ Saxon laughed and pointed out the window. “You’re wrong, Ts’ss,” he said triumphantly. “Hilton’s no fool. For here he comes.”
Hilton’s tall form was visible moving quickly along the way. He passed the window and vanished. Saxon turned to the door.
There was a pause.
“Or, perhaps, it isn’t a lesser cause,” Ts’ss said. “For the Selenite Empire passed, and Arthur’s court passed, and the hyper-ships are passing. Always the Big Night takes them, in the end. ”

“ He found a brace and stood opposite the mate, his eyes cool and watchful, the strain still showing on his tired face. Hilton reached for a cigarette.
“Next time your tomcat jumps me, I’ll burn a hole through him,” he promised. ”