Jack Lewis

“ Hamlin said.
Carl looked out the port. Rain, that doused the planet almost twenty hours a day, had started to fall, settling in small puddles at the base of the ship and drenching the broad-leafed saroo trees.
"I wouldn't bet on it," he said.
As if in a trance, Diane continued to stare at the melancholy landscape. "It's more that awful color than anything else," she said finally. "It makes everything seem so angry looking. How about the rest of the planet? ”

“ Carl shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe the story's true. Sometimes I find myself wondering what it would be like to be immortal—I mean after all the willful-wishing's over with, and you get down to thinking about it in terms of 'what's-in-it-for-me.' Most of us think of immortality as being something we could have on our own terms. But suppose everyone were immortal, the way they'll be—or could be—after this so-called migration starts. How much will people have really changed. ”

“ Keating. There's a widely recognized theory that the very air which gives us life, also gives us death. In fact, one of the chief reasons for the high migration to Mars is the fact that man's life expectancy on that planet is almost thirty percent greater than on our own. Now let's suppose that the three men who deserted the first Venus expedition had in some way found a way to breathe the air of that planet. Is it so inconceivable that the atmospheric content might be conducive to extremely high longevity—perhaps even immortality? ”

“ How can you explain the sheer mental fatigue of waiting for a needle-nosed scorpion to puncture your space jumper, knowing that the atmosphere right on the other side of your face-plate can kill you in thirty seconds. ”

“ In the end, I just hid behind a clump of saroo trees and took the pictures."
Carl let his gaze wander about the room. He had to think. Then, almost as if it had been prearranged, he found himself looking into a full-length mirror on the far wall. The reflection he saw wasn't old—the hair, while slightly lighter at the temples, was still for the most part dark-brown. He had a good build too, and except for a few creases radiating from the corners of his eyes, his skin had the smooth sort of thickness that many men in their middle-thirties would have envied. He'd kept himself well. ”

“ Carl dropped his hand inside his pocket, allowing his grip to tighten around the butt of the needle gun. "What makes you so sure I won't kill you?" he said. "I could, you know. The fact you know where Edgerton and his cronies are wouldn't stop me. I could probably find them myself if I wanted to. And I'm not even sure that I want to."
Spero took a drag on the cigarette and derricked himself to his feet. "I wasn't thinking of that," he said quietly. "I just happen to know that you haven't got it in you to kill a man in cold blood, Keating. I could do it but not you. You got too many principles. ”

“ How do you explain an atmosphere of chlorine and ammonia for that matter—or a color. I say purple-brown to you and it don't mean a thing. But look at the angry purple-brown landscape of Venus for two years like I did and you'd know what I mean.
"It's a primitive planet, Dr. Hamlin. Right now, according to the geologists, Venus is just like the earth was ten million years ago. Life is forming on it—primitive life. Take the chowls, for example—you see replicas of them in every department store window. They look a little like teddy-bears, especially when they walk. ”

“ Ferguson's financing the trip, and Spero is the Ponce de Leon who knows where to look. All you need is a pilot. Right?"
"Think it over carefully, Mr. Keating," Hamlin said. "Don't be hasty in your answer."
Spero too had noticed the note of rejection in his voice. "You'd better grab the chance, Keating," he said. "Right now I'll admit I don't like Venus anymore than you. But we're going to change all that. Right after the migration starts there'll be cities, and parks and railroads. And we'll be the ones responsible for all of it. We'll be heroes—not just for ten or twenty years, but forever!" ”

“ The voice had originated from the control room at the far end of the building. He flinched when something touched the sleeve of his jumper, then relaxed when he saw Diane peering at him through a mud-stained face-plate. The men had joined him, too, looking at him and shifting from one foot to the other.
The squawk-box was silent now. Impulsively, Carl allowed his gloved hand to brush against the butt of the needle pistol holstered in the webbed-belt of his jumper.
"The gun won't be necessary, I assure you. I'm unarmed!" ”

“ Carl felt a warm flush rising to his cheekbones. "We've been in space," he said. "The pilot of a ship is responsible for the actions of everyone aboard."
Spero jerked a thumb at the blister port. "I've got news for you, Keating," he said. "We're not IN space anymore, so you may consider yourself relieved of your authority. For five weeks now we've watched you swagger around the ship like the hero of a grade-B space-opera, and frankly I think we're all a little sick of it!"
"Aren't you dramatizing this a little heavy," Diane said suddenly. ”

“ Maybe in another two million years they'll be living in houses instead of thatched hovels and pointing guns at people instead of running like a star-bound flame-buggy every time they hear a noise. But right now they're scared. They're out of their natural element and they're scared, the same way our own Neanderthal man was scared before he found out how to fashion a rock-hammer. ”

“ Keating," she said.
Carl was aware of mumbling something polite. Across the room, Stewart Ferguson had derricked himself out of the chair. Spero remained seated, caressing the girl with his sultry brown eyes.
Diane flicked an imaginary wisp of hair back from behind her ear. "Have you decided to join us, Mr. Keating?" she said.
"Us?"
She searched his face. "Why, yes. Didn't Dad tell you there'd be five of us. After all, who'd want a slice of immortality more than a woman."
"Immortality for a goddess," Ferguson said blandly. ”

“ Edgerton?" Diane asked pointedly. "Why is it that you can breathe this air when it kills everyone else?"
Edgerton's eyes narrowed when he heard the voice. Then he leaned over and peered into the mud-stained face-plate. He smiled. "I'll be damned," he said. "A woman. A real live woman! Pretty too."
"How is it done?" Diane persisted.
Edgerton's grin faded. He turned to Carl. "You mean you don't know?"
Carl eyed the man, his lips set in an aggravating silence. Then: "Yes, I know. Or at least I think I know. Furthermore, Dr. Hamlin knows too. He's known all the time. ”

“ Norman Hamlin braced his bony elbows on the table and leaned toward him. "Mr. Keating, in the course of the three trips you made to Mars with the military, what was it that stood out foremost in your mind?"
"Men's emotions vary," Carl said carefully. "An architect would probably admire the beauty of the Martian cities, while a gourmet would savor the taste of candied encoms. ”

“ Carl said, "it's not all like this. That's the trouble. This is one of the more livable spots. That's why it was chosen by the military. Roughly ten percent of the planet lies above water, but out of that, only five percent of the terrain is in the visual belt." ”

“ Carl said.
The smile on Spero's face broadened. "Oh, come Keating. How corny can you get? I have gotten away with it. Since I'm the only one who can lead you to immortality, what's more natural than for me to take command? My first official act will be to detail you, Ferguson, and Dr. Hamlin to go outside and activate the blister. You'll find space jumpers in the airlock. Diane and I will stay here and figure out a plan of action." ”

“ But military men are schooled and conditioned for space, and while complete and mutual understanding seldom exists, there is usually, even as there was between Spero and himself, an unwritten live-and-let-live policy among crew members.
But they weren't in the army anymore, and no one seemed more aware of it than Paul Spero. Never a model officer, Spero in his new-found freedom, had become almost unbearably obnoxious. Nor could he expect any cooperation from Stewart Ferguson. He could handle him, he hoped. All of which brought him to the big question. What about Diane? ”

“ Spero said harshly.
Stewart Ferguson sat down, folding his hands in his lap. "My, my," he said. "A real live mutiny, just like one reads about. Tell me, when does Jack Jupiter come crashing through the lock-door?"
"I wasn't aware that anyone in particular was in command," Diane persisted, "but if you think we need someone, I'd suggest we take a vote."
Spero grinned. "No, honey. We all know who your money's riding on. That's why you can forget all those dreams about you and Keating settling down in a saroo covered cottage for the next three or four thousand years. ”

“ Carl led the way, shouting instructions through the speaker-unit encased in his helmet. Once when Diane fell, he went back and helped her to her feet. Through the helmet glass, he could see her face for a moment. Then she jerked her arm free and plodded on. Behind him he heard Stewart Ferguson swear.
It took a full twenty minutes to reach the building. It was big. Two hundred feet in diameter at the base, it sloped out of the sea of mud like a giant stemless mushroom. Carl led the party around the base to the far side where the lock-door was situated. Then he stopped. ”

“ Awkwardly, Carl grasped the bare hand with the thick glove of his jumper. "I know," he said. He was suddenly at a loss for words. What DID one say at a time like this? Certainly not the time-worn Dr. Livingston cliche.
Stewart Ferguson said it anyhow.
Carl studied the man carefully, watching the rise and fall of his breathing. The man WAS breathing—breathing the lethal gases that should kill him in thirty seconds.
"You find it hard to believe, don't you?" Edgerton said suddenly.
Carl nodded. "I have a nephew who collects stamps," he heard himself saying. "He has one with your picture on it. ”

“ The trip, less than one hour old, was already a hotbed of smoldering emotions. Worst of all, was the fact that things were almost sure to get worse before they got better. Under the best of conditions, space does strange things to individuals cramped together in the confines of a ship. Army records are crammed full of case histories where men, failing to adjust themselves to existing conditions, have reacted in ways which are probably best left in the files. ”

“ My tastes run to sandy beaches and women with real eyelashes. That's just my personal opinion you understand. There's almost eighty-thousand people who disagree with me—I believe that was the latest migration figures."
Hamlin thumped his pipe against the edge of the table. "I understand you've just returned from Venus, Mr. Keating. Can you give us a short briefing concerning your reactions to that planet?"
Carl eyed the man warily. "I'll be as brief as possible. There's been four landings on Venus in almost forty years. All these have been made by the military. ”

“ He needed you to finance the trip, and he needed me to pilot the ship. But why Dr. Hamlin unless there was some need for a surgeon? Then I remembered the chowls, and everything began to fall into place."
Ferguson sat down on one of the wooden cases. "As usual Keating, you're not being very logical. As a matter of fact, he didn't need the good doctor at all. He had two doctors right here. Remember?"
Carl nodded. "Yes, I remember," he said grimly. ”

“ He was a clean-shaven man, probably in his early twenties. Two other men slightly older, lolled in a pair of rustic chairs set on the open veranda. Apparently none of the men were aware of the camera that recorded their every move. ”