General Max Shorter

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  GENERAL MAX SHORTER

  By KRIS NEVILLE

  Illustrated by GIUNTA

  [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy December 1962.Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyrighton this publication was renewed.]

  _To spread Mankind to the stars carries a high cost in lives--and not all of them are human!_

  I

  Miracastle: The initial landing had been made on a flat plateau amongsteep, foreboding mountains which seemed to float through brieflycleared air. In the distance a sharp rock formation stood revealed likean etching: a castle of iron-gray stone whose form had been carved byalien winds and eroded by acid tears from acid clouds.

  Far above was a halo where the sun should be. The sun was an orange staronly slightly larger than Sol and as near to Miracastle as Sol to Earth.The orange rays splintered against the fog and gloom was perpetuallyupon the dark face of existence.

  This was the first two-stage planet man had ever attempted to colonize.Miracastle was so far from Earth that the long ships were destroyedtwice to reach it.

  * * * * *

  The technicians came, commanded by General Max Shorter, sixty-threeyears old. Men wearing the circle whose diameter was etched in rubysteel enclosing a background of gleaming ebon--the emblem was a silver Dover a sunburst of hammered gold.

  The surface of Miracastle roiled with unfamiliar storms and tornados andhurricanes. Before these, the films of lichen evaporated into dust, andthe sparse and stunted vegetation with ochre foliage turned sear and waspowdered by the fury in the air.

  Earth equipment, alien to the orange sun, hammered into the heart ofMiracastle. Night and day it converted the pulverized substance of theplanet in the white-hot core of its atomic furnaces.

  Acid rivers snapped at the wind and changed to salt deposits andsuper-heated steam. In the gaseous atmosphere, neutral crystals formedand fell like powdered rain. Miracastle heated and cooled and shiveredwith the virus of man-made chemical reactions, and the storms screamedand tore at the age-old mountains.

  Inside the eternal, self-renewing Richardson domes, the techniciansworked and waited and superintended the computers which controlled theprocesses raging beyond them.

  The long ship lifted steadily and majestically through the batteringstorm and the driving rain of dust and crystals. Out beyond the densespace that surrounds all stars, the long ship probed the ever-shiftingcurrents in the four-dimensional universe. The long ship found alow-density flaw, where space could hardly be said to exist at all. Thelong ship, described mathematically, was half as long as thecontinuum--the length being inversely proportional and related only tomass. Time was but a moth's wing between twin cliffs of eternity.

  Inside Miracastle's orange sun, at its very core, an atom of hydrogenwas destroyed completely; and in the inconceivable distance, an atom ofhydrogen appeared. The pulsing, steady-state equation of the universemaintained its knife-edge and inevitable thermo-dynamic balance.

  Inside the long ship, a pilot-machine ordered the destruction of avastly greater collection of matter. The atoms of the ship and thesailors--fixed in relationship, each to each--imploded into nothingness.

  And the long ship and the men aboard it were born again at a low-densityarea a million light years away--halfway to Earth. Born and weredestroyed again, in the blink of an eye.

  Beyond the ship now lay Sol, pulsing in its own warmth and warming itschildren embedded in the cold and distant texture of the universe. Thesailors were ghosts come home.

  Miracastle was alone with her conquerors.

  * * * * *

  General Max Shorter, a few weeks later, began writing a diary.

  "I have been Destroyed thirty-seven times during forty years' servicewith the long ships," he wrote. He wrote with a pen, using a metalstraight edge as a line rule.

  "I have served faithfully and I believe as well as any man the Corps,the planet and mankind. It is perhaps appropriate at this time, as Iapproach the end of my long service, to record a few observations whichhave occurred to me during the course of it as well as to record theday-to-day details of my present command."

  The general wrote: "A man is given a job to do. And when all is said anddone, that is the most important thing in his life: to do his job."

  It took perhaps ten seconds for the soft knock to penetrate hisconcentration. He adjusted himself to the moment and closed the diarysoftly. He deposited it in the upper right-hand drawer of the writingdesk and locked the drawer.

  The knock came again.

  He arranged his tie.

  "Come in," General Shorter said.

  The agitation of the man in the doorway was announced by the paleness ofhis face.

  "Come in, David," General Shorter said, rising politely from the writingdesk. "Be seated, please."

  "General, we've had a ... a very unfortunate thing happen on the shift."

  The general sank back into his chair. Light from the desk lamp framedhis expressionless and immobile face, half in light, half in shadow. Hefingered the straight-edge on the desk top.

  "Sit down, David, and then tell me about it."

  Shift-Captain Arnold moved uncertainly.

  "Sit down, sit down," General Shorter repeated impatiently.

  Captain Arnold seated himself on the edge of the chair.

  "One of the men," he said, "just committed suicide. He was in charge ofthe air changing monitor this shift. He went outside without a suit."

  The general blinked as though to remove an irritation from his eye. Hishand lay still and hard upon the straight-edge. "What was his name?" heasked in a voice that was vaguely puzzled.

  "Schuster. Sergeant Schuster, sir."

  "Yes, I remember him," the general said. "He came to us about a weekbefore the lift. I think he was from Colorado. He had very broadshoulders. Short and broad. Neat appearing. Uniform always in goodorder."

  General Shorter ran his thumb and forefinger up the bridge of his noseand then, with a very small sigh, placed his palm over his eyes.

  "Draw up the report," he said. "Was there a final message?" The questionwas uttered without hesitation and was followed by a moment of silence.

  "No, sir."

  General Shorter's breath was audible.

  "Please feel free to smoke, David."

  "Thank you, sir, I don't smoke."

  "No, of course not. I'd forgotten." General Shorter half turned andplaced his hands on the desk. He stood under their pressure. "What wouldyou say to a brandy?"

  "I should return to duty, sir."

  "A few minutes more," the general said. "The brandy is good." He movedinto the shadow and sorted bottles at his tiny cupboard. "Here." He heldthe glass to the light. Amber liquid flowed softly and the generalhanded across the half-filled glass. "Sit back," he said. "I'll joinyou."

  Glass in hand, the general stood with his back to the light. He seemedsurrounded by cold fire, and the glass sparkled as he lifted it. Hesipped. "Try it, it's good."

  "It's very good, sir."

  * * * * *

  For a moment neither spoke. Then the general said, "This isn't my firstcommand, you know. I've seen men die. I've had to take chances with themoccasionally. You could say, I suppose, that I ordered some men to theirdeaths. But still, the men came aboard knowing the risks. In the finalsense, they, not I, made the decision. I never sent a--"

  The sentence ended as the glass slipped and fell. "I'm sorry," he said,looking down at the sparklin
g fragments at his feet. The darkliquid--the light gave it a reddish cast--puddled and flowed and itsaroma filled the room. "No, no. Let it be, David. I'll get it later."

  The general went to the cupboard and poured into a new glass. Again hewas light and shadow. The spilled liquid approached the shadow and wasdevoured in it as though it had never been, but still the aroma stood onthe air.

  The general said: "Imagine, if you can, David, that Earth were attacked,and the attack destroyed many of the military installations. After youstruck back, David, what would you do next?"

  "I don't know, sir. I'm not a strategist, I'm afraid."

  "What about your cities? The millions of people trapped withoutsupplies--over-running the countryside, looting, plundering in search offood. Carrying pestilence and disease and terror. What would you