A. Van Vogt - Rogue Ship

Hewitt snatched for the wrench – then let his hand slide away as the woman, Ruth, appeared in the bedroom doorway. She put a finger to her lips, a cautioning gesture.

Quickly, she whispered to him what Ilsa had overheard: the plot to murder him. She ended her account. 'We had to choose. I chose you!'

Hewitt, whose mind had started to reach past what she had said, came reluctantly back to the woman, her words, her -choice!

He was embarrassed. With him, what had brought her here had been a move as in a game. Simply and forthrightly, he believed in monogamy. Her flushed cheeks and the shy way she avoided looking into his eyes told him that it was no game to her and the others.

The woman spoke again. 'I knew I would have to come here before Harcourt and you returned. So now you'll have to think of something to do with me... I brought this to help!'

She reached into a fold in her dress, produced a small blaster, and held it out to him. Hewitt took the weapon gratefully. The feel of it in his hand eased the awful chill of the murder plan she had described.

It also changed his own plan.

Quickly, he explained to her what he wanted her to do: hide in his bedroom, wait till Harcourt and he entered the adjoining bedroom, then slip out. 'Be sure,' Hewitt finished, 'to take off your shoes, so you can go silently -'

She started obediently for the bedroom door; then she stopped. Hesitantly, she faced him, said simply, 'Am I chosen?'

A lump came into Hewitt's throat. Gazing at her, he thought: 'Space did this to these women. The awful emptiness of space reduced them, gave them a sense of loss that made even the best of them vulnerable to total control.'

He divined that words were not enough in this situation. This woman needed to be touched. He stepped up to her, took one of her hands in his, and placed his other hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. 'You are completely chosen!' he said softly.

The expression of relief that came into her fine-featured face was something to see. Abruptly, she was an accepted woman, calm, practical. 'I'd better go!' she said. She stared at him earnestly. 'You'll be all right?'

Hewitt released her hand. 'I'll do my best,' he said. 'I'll see you later.'

She whispered, "We're all waiting for you!' She turned and went into the bedroom, pushing the door almost shut-

Hewitt slipped the blaster in with the wrench, walked over, and opened the corridor door. He called across the hallway to where he could see Harcourt sitting in a chair just inside the open door of the apartment there, 'Will you come in here and give me a hand, Mr. Harcourt?'

The big man climbed to his feet and slouched to the door, stared insolently at Hewitt. 'What do you want?'

'I need a hand here with my machine.'

'Going some place?' Harcourt asked.

But he came over, looking puzzled and undecided. He was not a man who could easily change from one plan to another. At Hewitt's request, he walked into the spare bedroom.

'Hey!' he said, as he saw the blaster that Hewitt was pointing at him. His whole body stiffened. There was shock and horror in his face.

Slowly, he put up his hands.

Minutes later, Hewitt was guiding his tank suit along the corridor at its top speed. He was a man in a hurry.

In his excitement, Lesbee shook Tellier awake.

'Hey! I've figured out the true nature of the universe.'

The thin, intellectual face of his friend seemed to gain a little color. The pale, 'watery skin looked more alive. 'You've what?'

As Tellier sat up sleepily, Lesbee repeated his statement, adding: 'With what I've analyzed, we can do anything: land on Earth, retake the ship... anything.'

Tellier turned red. 'For God's sake, John,' he whispered, 'are you serious? You know what respect I have for your ideas when you tell me you mean them.'

'Listen – ' said Lesbee. 'First, the facts as we've seen them, or had them accurately described -'

He thereupon outlined the aspects of the long voyage related to the physics of space: the initial impossibility of accelerating particles to light velocity, the discovery through the Karn of the correct pattern -

He continued his summation: 'Hewitt's story of the Hope of Man arriving in the solar system in a special matter-state, which turned out to mean that the ship was traveling faster than light in some space of its own. Finally, as the ship reduced to light-speed, Hewitt was precipitated into the world of the ship -

'These are the facts, aren't they?' Lesbee demanded.

Tellier nodded, wide-eyed.

'Actually, there are more points,' Lesbee continued. 'For example, the time and pressure ratios were 973 to one. But the outside of the ship remained round. And the corridors inside were only three to one. I understand all that now.'

'But what's the practical value?'

'Watch!' said Lesbee.

He disappeared.

...Vanished inside a small craft millions of miles from anywhere... Tellier was frantically looking around, when he heard a sound behind him. He whirled. Lesbee stood there, a triumphant grin on his face.

The smile faded and was succeeded by a grim expression. 'We're going back to the ship!' Lesbee said.

'Whatever for?' Tellier was astonished.

The steely eyes gazed at him. 'For your wife – for mine – To make sure that the ship lands... We had to forget all that when it was life or death. But that doesn't apply any more.'

Tellier grasped his hand gratefully. 'Good man!' he said. Then he stepped back. 'For God's sake, tell me what it is you've discovered.'

'First, let's get started,' said Lesbee. He turned to the control board, went on, 'Now, theoretically, it should be possible to go there, literally, in a moment. The machine could. But remember what happened to Hewitt – the squeeze feeling. Human cells would not long survive instantaneity. So we've got to accept that life has to have a little time.'

'But– '

'The universe is a lie,' said Lesbee, a few moments later. 'That's the secret! Listen-'

It was a subjective plenum that he described then, consisting essentially of levels of motion. In that universe, life had got its start by holding onto bits and pieces of dead matter. From this precarious vantage point, like a bug clinging to a straw in a whirlpool, it surveyed the heavens and itself.

Tentatively, it explored the great flows of motion all around, enclosed itself in sealed containers so that it could confront the energy at the lower levels, at the higher levels, and beyond light-speed.

Here, in an environment of infinite expansion and zero size, was the real norm of time and space. 'Below' was the nether darkness of stopped motion and matter. 'Above' was the infinite, timeless light of foreverness.

As life in the sealed containers – spaceships – crossed the dividing line and entered the norm, the barriers went down. It was as if a man had crawled out of a black well, and now he stood on the meadow, and gazed into the bright blue of the sky. The laws governing the meadows were different from, though related to, those in the well.

Lesbee said, 'We could theoretically go instantly from no motion to millions of times the speed of light. But as I've said, from a practical point of view, the inner motions of cells hold us back a little. We fear at some level that the movement is threatening, and we grab for a handrail, and hold on for dear life.'

He finished, 'My thought is, naturally, that we respect that feeling of the cells, and proceed with caution, but proceed.'

Tellier stared at him blankly, 'I don't get it,' he said. 'All right, so the matter-state beyond light is the norm. I've been there, too. Nothing that I could notice happened to me.'

'That is because you lay very still during the whole time,' said Lesbee. 'That's because you weren't tuned in to a landing device that could operate on thought impulses.'