Rich Living, Page 3
Michael Cathal
other signs of habitation.
It was too hot to do anything constructive. They relaxed in theirdeck-chairs, grateful for the way in which the fans moved the monotonousheat into unexpected currents of warm air.
Walter Pellinger looked upward expectantly, a sudden movement thatcaused the little beads of perspiration on his head to run together andcourse down his neck in a steady stream. He ran a handkerchief aroundthe inside of his collar. "What's the time?" he asked.
"Quarter past ten," said Tarsh.
"All right, Jason, you've had your fun. Now perhaps you'll consult theright dial. We'd all like to know."
"I can never get used to these five-hour days," said Gillian Murray. "Itmakes one feel so restless."
Curtis Delman frowned in mock reproof. The lawyer was in his prime, thenatural strength of his features enhanced by the iron-gray hair andpowerful physique.
"Really, Gillian," he said, "you ought to be thankful it's summer. Atleast, you've got three hours of daylight."
"Well, I can't understand it," said John Bridge. "We've been here sixtyEarth days and the sun always sets at the same time."
"Nonsense," Delman replied. "It's been later each day. Though not much,I grant you. Remember, summer still has nine years to run."
"Will someone please tell me the time?" said Walter Pellinger.
Jason Tarsh regarded him with approval. "That's much better. It's twoo'clock."
* * * * *
Of the five of them, John Bridge and Jason Tarsh were the least changed.True, that 'lucky fool,' as Walter Pellinger called Bridge, had lost agood deal of weight and his face was not quite so full as it had been,but it was the same John Bridge who had climbed on board at Jupiter. Thechange in Jason Tarsh was even less marked. Time had ironed out a fewcreases here and there, and his back was straighter. But, apart fromthat, he looked the same at fifty as he had at a hundred--gaunt,resilient and merciless.
"It's due anytime now," said Walter Pellinger, his eyes still fixed onthe empty segment of horizon above the near end of the runway.
The others remained silent. The lawyer imagined that they were allthinking of the incoming spaceboat. The landing today was something likea dress-rehearsal for their own departure in thirty days. It broke thetedium of their existence and with it would come a change of staff, theunloading of supplies and the news from home. But when the next landingtook place, they themselves would be waiting, young and eager, to goback and start life afresh.
Gillian Murray was looking toward the door behind them, her lovelyprofile turned in his direction. He followed the line of her gaze.There, in the hallway, stood the two house servants, man and wife. Theyhad both arrived on the relief spaceboat a month ago, a comfortable,middle-aged couple. Now they were almost like children, leaping up anddown with impatience, counting every second which brought Captain Rossnearer--young, graceful creatures, hand in hand, reunited in theiryouth.
Delman found himself smiling in sympathy. "Yes," he said, "those are thevital years."
"I was just thinking the same thing." She turned to him. There weretears of happiness in her eyes. At that moment, he caught a glimpse ofher real beauty, something deeper than the merely physical--a purity ofexpression mirrored from within, clear and composed, like a reflectionof the soul.
"There it is!" Walter Pellinger announced excitedly. He pointed.
Out in the distance, a small speck hurtled toward them. Soon it wouldstreak low overhead, until a final burst from the jets brought it to ahalt at the far end of the runway.
The two young servants could restrain themselves no longer. Oblivious todanger, they began to run down the side of the landing-strip, racingtoward a spot parallel to where they knew the spaceboat would draw to astandstill.
It was John Bridge who noticed them. The others were all looking in theopposite direction. He leaped to his feet and dashed outside.
"Come back!" he yelled. "For God's sake, come back! You'll get caught bythe blast!"
* * * * *
They were so intent that they paid no heed to him. He ran on after them,trying to make himself heard, forgetful of his own peril.
"Look!" The strong fingers of Jason Tarsh dug deep into the lawyer'sarm. Delman turned instinctively. Nearly four hundred yards away, threefigures stumbled back toward the house.
"It's too late," Delman said. "Get down, all of you! If Ross sees them,he may try to overshoot. If he's going too slowly, he'll have to use therear jets and they might splash us. Get down!"
They flattened themselves out on the floor of the veranda.
Above them, the thin whine of the approaching craft switched into a deeproar, then cut out almost instantly.
Delman saw the flash of silver overhead as the spaceboat fought torecover altitude. One moment, it was climbing; the next, it veeredsharply to the left and hit the cliff.
Sound and light combined, deafening and dazzling, as the force of theexplosion thrust outward, tearing at the foundations of the houseitself.
When the hail of falling rock had died away, they got up and lookedaround them. It was difficult to determine the extent of the damage, fordust swirled and eddied in all directions. Only gradually did thedetails emerge from the surrounding mist.
The crash had caused a small avalanche. Rubble littered the smooth widthof the runway. Of the spaceboat, there was nothing to be seen but a scaron the mountainside.
John Bridge and the two servants had vanished.
"That crazy old fool," said Walter Pellinger. "I might have known he'dmess things up."
"It wasn't him," Gillian Murray replied. "I think it was the servants.I'm sure I heard him shout a warning at them."
"You think! _You think!_" Walter Pellinger shook his head vigorouslyfrom side to side. His ears were still ringing from the blast. "He'sdead, Miss Murray. You hear me? He's dead! He doesn't need a championnow!"
Gillian Murray flushed. "Why, you ungrateful--"
"Shut up, both of you!" said Jason Tarsh angrily. "Can't you see there'swork to be done? We've got to clear the runway."
Curtis Delman left the veranda rail and came toward them. "And just howdo you propose to do that, Mr. Tarsh?" he asked quietly.
* * * * *
All of them looked at the lawyer in amazement. Jason Tarsh laughedderisively.
"Listen to him!" he exclaimed. "The Great Man! Wants to know how youremove a few small stones!"
"You damned idiot!" said Delman savagely. "Use your eyes! Why were thishouse and the storage sheds prefabricated? Just for the hell of it?Dozens of useless trips when you could build what you wanted from rock?Until today, there wasn't a loose pebble in this godforsaken place!Didn't that strike you as odd? Well, didn't it?"
Tarsh made no reply.
The lawyer moved back to the veranda rail. "There!" he said, pointing ata near-lying stone the size of a tennis ball. "Go ahead, try yourstrength. Throw it over the side!"
Uncertainly, Jason Tarsh walked into the open. They watched him as hebent down to pick up the small purple lump. For nearly a minute, hestrained and tugged at the dead, unyielding weight in front of him.Then, slowly, he straightened up and returned to the veranda.
"You're right," he said grudgingly. "I couldn't lift it."
Delman nodded. "Considering it's more than ten times the weight of lead,that's not surprising."
"Anyhow, there's one consolation," said Jason Tarsh. "We weren't on thatspaceboat."
The lawyer regarded him with pity. "No, we weren't," he said, "butwhether it's a consolation remains to be seen."
"What are you driving at?" demanded Walter Pellinger. "They'll send arescue party. They must know there's something wrong."
"Oh, yes," Delman agreed. "But they don't know what and we can't tellthem. And, even if they did know, what could they do?" He began tostroll up and down the veranda. "As far as they're concerned, Rosshasn't reported to Algon. Perhaps his transmitter failed. Perhaps heblew up in spa
ce. There are plenty of possibilities. If they treat thematter as an emergency, the relief boat may get here in twenty-eightdays instead of thirty. But it can't land and it can't hover, so whatgood is it to us?"
"Now wait, Delman. You know the reputation of Rejuvenal Enterprises. Acompany like that can't afford to take a risk. They'll send for a patrolship--"
"And those patrol ships are equipped with heli-cars," Tarsh interjected."They can launch a couple and pick us up in no time.
It was too hot to do anything constructive. They relaxed in theirdeck-chairs, grateful for the way in which the fans moved the monotonousheat into unexpected currents of warm air.
Walter Pellinger looked upward expectantly, a sudden movement thatcaused the little beads of perspiration on his head to run together andcourse down his neck in a steady stream. He ran a handkerchief aroundthe inside of his collar. "What's the time?" he asked.
"Quarter past ten," said Tarsh.
"All right, Jason, you've had your fun. Now perhaps you'll consult theright dial. We'd all like to know."
"I can never get used to these five-hour days," said Gillian Murray. "Itmakes one feel so restless."
Curtis Delman frowned in mock reproof. The lawyer was in his prime, thenatural strength of his features enhanced by the iron-gray hair andpowerful physique.
"Really, Gillian," he said, "you ought to be thankful it's summer. Atleast, you've got three hours of daylight."
"Well, I can't understand it," said John Bridge. "We've been here sixtyEarth days and the sun always sets at the same time."
"Nonsense," Delman replied. "It's been later each day. Though not much,I grant you. Remember, summer still has nine years to run."
"Will someone please tell me the time?" said Walter Pellinger.
Jason Tarsh regarded him with approval. "That's much better. It's twoo'clock."
* * * * *
Of the five of them, John Bridge and Jason Tarsh were the least changed.True, that 'lucky fool,' as Walter Pellinger called Bridge, had lost agood deal of weight and his face was not quite so full as it had been,but it was the same John Bridge who had climbed on board at Jupiter. Thechange in Jason Tarsh was even less marked. Time had ironed out a fewcreases here and there, and his back was straighter. But, apart fromthat, he looked the same at fifty as he had at a hundred--gaunt,resilient and merciless.
"It's due anytime now," said Walter Pellinger, his eyes still fixed onthe empty segment of horizon above the near end of the runway.
The others remained silent. The lawyer imagined that they were allthinking of the incoming spaceboat. The landing today was something likea dress-rehearsal for their own departure in thirty days. It broke thetedium of their existence and with it would come a change of staff, theunloading of supplies and the news from home. But when the next landingtook place, they themselves would be waiting, young and eager, to goback and start life afresh.
Gillian Murray was looking toward the door behind them, her lovelyprofile turned in his direction. He followed the line of her gaze.There, in the hallway, stood the two house servants, man and wife. Theyhad both arrived on the relief spaceboat a month ago, a comfortable,middle-aged couple. Now they were almost like children, leaping up anddown with impatience, counting every second which brought Captain Rossnearer--young, graceful creatures, hand in hand, reunited in theiryouth.
Delman found himself smiling in sympathy. "Yes," he said, "those are thevital years."
"I was just thinking the same thing." She turned to him. There weretears of happiness in her eyes. At that moment, he caught a glimpse ofher real beauty, something deeper than the merely physical--a purity ofexpression mirrored from within, clear and composed, like a reflectionof the soul.
"There it is!" Walter Pellinger announced excitedly. He pointed.
Out in the distance, a small speck hurtled toward them. Soon it wouldstreak low overhead, until a final burst from the jets brought it to ahalt at the far end of the runway.
The two young servants could restrain themselves no longer. Oblivious todanger, they began to run down the side of the landing-strip, racingtoward a spot parallel to where they knew the spaceboat would draw to astandstill.
It was John Bridge who noticed them. The others were all looking in theopposite direction. He leaped to his feet and dashed outside.
"Come back!" he yelled. "For God's sake, come back! You'll get caught bythe blast!"
* * * * *
They were so intent that they paid no heed to him. He ran on after them,trying to make himself heard, forgetful of his own peril.
"Look!" The strong fingers of Jason Tarsh dug deep into the lawyer'sarm. Delman turned instinctively. Nearly four hundred yards away, threefigures stumbled back toward the house.
"It's too late," Delman said. "Get down, all of you! If Ross sees them,he may try to overshoot. If he's going too slowly, he'll have to use therear jets and they might splash us. Get down!"
They flattened themselves out on the floor of the veranda.
Above them, the thin whine of the approaching craft switched into a deeproar, then cut out almost instantly.
Delman saw the flash of silver overhead as the spaceboat fought torecover altitude. One moment, it was climbing; the next, it veeredsharply to the left and hit the cliff.
Sound and light combined, deafening and dazzling, as the force of theexplosion thrust outward, tearing at the foundations of the houseitself.
When the hail of falling rock had died away, they got up and lookedaround them. It was difficult to determine the extent of the damage, fordust swirled and eddied in all directions. Only gradually did thedetails emerge from the surrounding mist.
The crash had caused a small avalanche. Rubble littered the smooth widthof the runway. Of the spaceboat, there was nothing to be seen but a scaron the mountainside.
John Bridge and the two servants had vanished.
"That crazy old fool," said Walter Pellinger. "I might have known he'dmess things up."
"It wasn't him," Gillian Murray replied. "I think it was the servants.I'm sure I heard him shout a warning at them."
"You think! _You think!_" Walter Pellinger shook his head vigorouslyfrom side to side. His ears were still ringing from the blast. "He'sdead, Miss Murray. You hear me? He's dead! He doesn't need a championnow!"
Gillian Murray flushed. "Why, you ungrateful--"
"Shut up, both of you!" said Jason Tarsh angrily. "Can't you see there'swork to be done? We've got to clear the runway."
Curtis Delman left the veranda rail and came toward them. "And just howdo you propose to do that, Mr. Tarsh?" he asked quietly.
* * * * *
All of them looked at the lawyer in amazement. Jason Tarsh laughedderisively.
"Listen to him!" he exclaimed. "The Great Man! Wants to know how youremove a few small stones!"
"You damned idiot!" said Delman savagely. "Use your eyes! Why were thishouse and the storage sheds prefabricated? Just for the hell of it?Dozens of useless trips when you could build what you wanted from rock?Until today, there wasn't a loose pebble in this godforsaken place!Didn't that strike you as odd? Well, didn't it?"
Tarsh made no reply.
The lawyer moved back to the veranda rail. "There!" he said, pointing ata near-lying stone the size of a tennis ball. "Go ahead, try yourstrength. Throw it over the side!"
Uncertainly, Jason Tarsh walked into the open. They watched him as hebent down to pick up the small purple lump. For nearly a minute, hestrained and tugged at the dead, unyielding weight in front of him.Then, slowly, he straightened up and returned to the veranda.
"You're right," he said grudgingly. "I couldn't lift it."
Delman nodded. "Considering it's more than ten times the weight of lead,that's not surprising."
"Anyhow, there's one consolation," said Jason Tarsh. "We weren't on thatspaceboat."
The lawyer regarded him with pity. "No, we weren't," he said, "butwhether it's a consolation remains to be seen."
"What are you driving at?" demanded Walter Pellinger. "They'll send arescue party. They must know there's something wrong."
"Oh, yes," Delman agreed. "But they don't know what and we can't tellthem. And, even if they did know, what could they do?" He began tostroll up and down the veranda. "As far as they're concerned, Rosshasn't reported to Algon. Perhaps his transmitter failed. Perhaps heblew up in spa
ce. There are plenty of possibilities. If they treat thematter as an emergency, the relief boat may get here in twenty-eightdays instead of thirty. But it can't land and it can't hover, so whatgood is it to us?"
"Now wait, Delman. You know the reputation of Rejuvenal Enterprises. Acompany like that can't afford to take a risk. They'll send for a patrolship--"
"And those patrol ships are equipped with heli-cars," Tarsh interjected."They can launch a couple and pick us up in no time.
