Mr. Spaceship, Page 2

Kramer shifted uneasily.

  "Then who is supposed to do it?" Gross said. "I can have myorganization prepare examinations of various kinds, to determinefitness, that kind of thing--"

  "Listen, Phil," Dolores said suddenly.

  "What?"

  She turned toward him. "I have an idea. Do you remember that professorwe had in college. Michael Thomas?"

  Kramer nodded.

  "I wonder if he's still alive." Dolores frowned. "If he is he must beawfully old."

  "Why, Dolores?" Gross asked.

  "Perhaps an old person who didn't have much time left, but whose mindwas still clear and sharp--"

  "Professor Thomas." Kramer rubbed his jaw. "He certainly was a wiseold duck. But could he still be alive? He must have been seventy,then."

  "We could find that out," Gross said. "I could make a routine check."

  "What do you think?" Dolores said. "If any human mind could outwitthose creatures--"

  "I don't like the idea," Kramer said. In his mind an image hadappeared, the image of an old man sitting behind a desk, his brightgentle eyes moving about the classroom. The old man leaning forward, athin hand raised--

  "Keep him out of this," Kramer said.

  "What's wrong?" Gross looked at him curiously.

  "It's because _I_ suggested it," Dolores said.

  "No." Kramer shook his head. "It's not that. I didn't expect anythinglike this, somebody I knew, a man I studied under. I remember him veryclearly. He was a very distinct personality."

  "Good," Gross said. "He sounds fine."

  "We can't do it. We're asking his death!"

  "This is war," Gross said, "and war doesn't wait on the needs of theindividual. You said that yourself. Surely he'll volunteer; we cankeep it on that basis."

  "He may already be dead," Dolores murmured.

  "We'll find that out," Gross said speeding up the car. They drove therest of the way in silence.

  * * * * *

  For a long time the two of them stood studying the small wood house,overgrown with ivy, set back on the lot behind an enormous oak. Thelittle town was silent and sleepy; once in awhile a car moved slowlyalong the distant highway, but that was all.

  "This is the place," Gross said to Kramer. He folded his arms. "Quitea quaint little house."

  Kramer said nothing. The two Security Agents behind them wereexpressionless.

  Gross started toward the gate. "Let's go. According to the check he'sstill alive, but very sick. His mind is agile, however. That seems tobe certain. It's said he doesn't leave the house. A woman takes careof his needs. He's very frail."

  They went down the stone walk and up onto the porch. Gross rang thebell. They waited. After a time they heard slow footsteps. The dooropened. An elderly woman in a shapeless wrapper studied themimpassively.

  "Security," Gross said, showing his card. "We wish to see ProfessorThomas."

  "Why?"

  "Government business." He glanced at Kramer.

  Kramer stepped forward. "I was a pupil of the Professor's," he said."I'm sure he won't mind seeing us."

  The woman hesitated uncertainly. Gross stepped into the doorway. "Allright, mother. This is war time. We can't stand out here."

  The two Security agents followed him, and Kramer came reluctantlybehind, closing the door. Gross stalked down the hall until he came toan open door. He stopped, looking in. Kramer could see the whitecorner of a bed, a wooden post and the edge of a dresser.

  He joined Gross.

  In the dark room a withered old man lay, propped up on endlesspillows. At first it seemed as if he were asleep; there was no motionor sign of life. But after a time Kramer saw with a faint shock thatthe old man was watching them intently, his eyes fixed on them,unmoving, unwinking.

  "Professor Thomas?" Gross said. "I'm Commander Gross of Security. Thisman with me is perhaps known to you--"

  The faded eyes fixed on Kramer.

  "I know him. Philip Kramer.... You've grown heavier, boy." The voicewas feeble, the rustle of dry ashes. "Is it true you're married now?"

  "Yes. I married Dolores French. You remember her." Kramer came towardthe bed. "But we're separated. It didn't work out very well. Ourcareers--"

  "What we came here about, Professor," Gross began, but Kramer cut himoff with an impatient wave.

  "Let me talk. Can't you and your men get out of here long enough tolet me talk to him?"

  Gross swallowed. "All right, Kramer." He nodded to the two men. Thethree of them left the room, going out into the hall and closing thedoor after them.

  The old man in the bed watched Kramer silently. "I don't think much ofhim," he said at last. "I've seen his type before. What's he want?"

  "Nothing. He just came along. Can I sit down?" Kramer found a stiffupright chair beside the bed. "If I'm bothering you--"

  "No. I'm glad to see you again, Philip. After so long. I'm sorry yourmarriage didn't work out."

  "How have you been?"

  "I've been very ill. I'm afraid that my moment on the world's stagehas almost ended." The ancient eyes studied the younger manreflectively. "You look as if you have been doing well. Like everyoneelse I thought highly of. You've gone to the top in this society."

  Kramer smiled. Then he became serious. "Professor, there's a projectwe're working on that I want to talk to you about. It's the first rayof hope we've had in this whole war. If it works, we may be able tocrack the yuk defenses, get some ships into their system. If we can dothat the war might be brought to an end."

  "Go on. Tell me about it, if you wish."

  "It's a long shot, this project. It may not work at all, but we haveto give it a try."

  "It's obvious that you came here because of it," Professor Thomasmurmured. "I'm becoming curious. Go on."

  * * * * *

  After Kramer finished the old man lay back in the bed withoutspeaking. At last he sighed.

  "I understand. A human mind, taken out of a human body." He sat up alittle, looking at Kramer. "I suppose you're thinking of me."

  Kramer said nothing.

  "Before I make my decision I want to see the papers on this, thetheory and outline of construction. I'm not sure I like it.--Forreasons of my own, I mean. But I want to look at the material. Ifyou'll do that--"

  "Certainly." Kramer stood up and went to the door. Gross and the twoSecurity Agents were standing outside, waiting tensely. "Gross, comeinside."

  They filed into the room.

  "Give the Professor the papers," Kramer said. "He wants to study thembefore deciding."

  Gross brought the file out of his coat pocket, a manila envelope. Hehanded it to the old man on the bed. "Here it is, Professor. You'rewelcome to examine it. Will you give us your answer as soon aspossible? We're very anxious to begin, of course."

  "I'll give you my answer when I've decided." He took the envelope witha thin, trembling hand. "My decision depends on what I find out fromthese papers. If I don't like what I find, then I will not becomeinvolved with this work in any shape or form." He opened the envelopewith shaking hands. "I'm looking for one thing."

  "What is it?" Gross said.

  "That's my affair. Leave me a number by which I can reach you whenI've decided."

  Silently, Gross put his card down on the dresser. As they went outProfessor Thomas was already reading the first of the papers, theoutline of the theory.

  * * * * *

  Kramer sat across from Dale Winter, his second in line. "What then?"Winter said.

  "He's going to contact us." Kramer scratched with a drawing pen onsome paper. "I don't know what to think."

  "What do you mean?" Winter's good-natured face was puzzled.

  "Look." Kramer stood up, pacing back and forth, his hands in hisuniform pockets. "He was my teacher in college. I respected him as aman, as well as a teacher. He was more than a voice, a talking book.He was a person, a calm, kindly person I could look up to. I alwayswanted to be like
him, someday. Now look at me."

  "So?"

  "Look at what I'm asking. I'm asking for his life, as if he were somekind of laboratory animal kept around in a cage, not a man, a teacherat all."

  "Do you think he'll do it?"

  "I don't