Opening the viewport shutter2 a crack, he found the land outside lit ambiguously by the false dawn that was beginning to spread against the eastern hills.
He took several more of the white pills for his headache. Briefly3 he considered eating something, but abandoned the idea. The pain was so intense, he didn't think he could keep anything down.
He found the illusion he had noted4 yesterday—the whispering sound he could not hear when he tried—was still there. It was even worse now.
All about him was the flickering5 shadow of a sound, demanding his attention, requesting. And still—when he tried to hear it, it was gone.
If only he had something to do to take his mind off the headache and the elusive8 sound.... But there was nothing to do. With neither the Skipdrive nor the atomics operating, he had not even the routine powerchecks to keep him occupied.
Then why am I here?
His function was to operate the ship. That much he knew without doubt. And he was well suited to operate it. His hands were properly shaped to manipulate the controls, and he could do it automatically, without thinking about it. He was Ship-Operator.
But the ship was not operating....
What was his function then, when the ship was not operating?
The other control devices, when not controlling, automatically shut off. Perhaps something had gone wrong in his shut-off relay.
That was not it, either. He was not the same as the other controlling mechanisms9. He was different. Different materials, different potential functions in his structure, all kinds of differences.
But even if it were true that he was not intended to switch off when not functioning as Ship-Operator, what was he to do?
Think it out. Think this thing out very carefully.
Pain was a signal of improper10 functioning. All right. He was not functioning properly, then, and he knew it because of the level of pain in his head. If he could get rid of the headache, he would at the same time be finding his proper function.
Step one, then: Get rid of the headache. And he had to do that anyway, because he was unable to think clearly while he had it.
The headache had alleviated11 several times, then come back again. That meant he had performed properly, then drifted away into—into—Wrong was the word that came to his mind. Wrong. He had drifted into improper functioning, and the word for that was Wrong, and his headache had come back as a result.
All right. When had the headache alleviated?
He tried to think back. The first time, the first time was when he had found himself speaking the meaningless words into the microphone, announcing his estimated time-to-destination. And then, when he had closed the viewports. And throwing that Receive switch....
What did these actions have in common? What factor did they share?
Only one thing. Two, really. First, they had some connection with the transmit-receive apparatus12. Or two of the three did, at any rate. The other factor, shared by all three acts, was that they were done almost without his conscious will.
Relax. Completely. Allow yourself to act.
He leaned back in the control chair and tried to blank his mind, tried not to give his body any commands.
Without volition, without willing.
He closed his eyes.
For a long while there was nothing. Then he heard the whir of servomotors. He opened his eyes, delicately probed with his mind ... and the headache had lessened14.
He glanced up at the console, to see what he had done. A red bulb glowed over the label AIRLOCK. He had thrown the airlock switch, then. And it had been the "proper function" for him, because the headache had lessened. But the out-of-range whispering had not diminished.
The airlock? He shook his head in puzzlement. But the technique seemed to be working. What now?
He closed his eyes again, and this time the delay was shorter. He knew before he looked what had happened. He had lowered the landing ladder.
Well, this began to be obvious. He was to leave the ship.
And yet, the headache had been worst when he had left the ship. What did that mean? It seemed to mean leaving the ship was a Wrong function. But it was certainly indicated this time, from his opening of the airlock and lowering the ladder.
Well, what was Wrong function at one time might well be Right function another time. That could happen.
Leave the ship....
There was an edge of pleasantness and warmth to that thought, and the headache diminished.
"Please leave the ship, Dick...." It was almost as if he could hear a warmth in the air saying that to him.
Try the alternative. Deliberately15 he thought: Stay in the ship.
A flash of pain soared up the back of his head and across the top to settle swirling16 and agonizingly in his temples.
Clear enough.
He got to his feet and carefully made his way out of the control room down the catwalk toward the airlock that stood open and waiting to let him out of Phoenix18 I....
An excited non-com slammed open the door to the radio room and shouted, "The airlock's opening!"
Banning and Colin dashed to the broad window and stared out at the bulky shape of Phoenix I, resting monolithic19 on the landing pad. Banning took the proffered20 binoculars21 from the non-com, focussed them on the broad flank of the ship.
"It's open, all right," he said. "Here." He handed the binoculars to Colin.
After a long delay, the landing ladder slid down the side of the ship.
"I think he's going to come out."
"There he is."
"What's he doing?"
"Standing22 in the airlock, looking around. Now he's starting to come down. Now he's at the bottom of the ladder, looking around again.... Now he's walking this way."
"Give me the glasses," Banning said. He looked for a long moment, making sure the colonel's direction did not change. "Still coming this way," he said, putting the glasses carefully on the table by the window. He turned to look at the psychiatrist23. "What now?"
The room in which they put him was comfortable and secure. Very secure. The bed was firmly welded to the wall, the table bolted to the floor. There was nothing movable or detachable in the room.
The three microphones picked up little but the shuffle27 of feet; cameras dutifully imprinted28 on film the image of a man pacing restlessly back and forth29, examining the fixtures30 of the room without apparent anxiety or curiosity.
"No trouble at all," Banning answered Colin's question. "He didn't even see the patrol. Spray shot of Somnol in the arm and that was it."
"He doesn't seem particularly upset," Colin mused31, watching the screen on which the lean figure of Colonel Harkins paced.
"Nervous," Banning said.
"Not as badly as the situation would warrant. I don't think it's getting through to him. He's apathetic32."
"How did he react to seeing his wife?" Banning asked.
"Bewildered him. Gave him a hell of a headache."
"That all?"
"That's all."
"What now?"
Colin sighed. "Get through to him some way." He tamped33 tobacco in his pipe, his eyes still on the spyscreen. Harkins was now sitting on the bed, his hands immobile on his knees, staring straight ahead.
"How do you intend to do that?"
Colin reached for a pad of paper and began scribbling34, talking as he wrote. "How are you feeding him?"
"Double door compartment35. Put the food in, close the outside door, open the inside."
"Put this on his tray next time, will you?" Colin handed the general a slip of paper. On it was written a single sentence: Richard Harkins, I want to talk to you.
"All right," Banning said, reading it. "He's due for lunch in about an hour."
On the screen, Colin could see the light come on over the food compartment, and the microphones picked up the sound of a bell. Harkins, who had not moved from the bed since his initial examination of the cubicle36, looked up. The inner door of the compartment opened, revealing a tray with several steaming dishes, a pitcher37 of milk and a pot of coffee on a self-warm pad.
Harkins stood up. He looked at the food, walked over to the tiny open door and picked up the tray. Calmly he carried it over to the table, sat down, unfolded the napkin and put it in his lap.
"My God," Banning whispered, "you'd think he'd eaten this way all his life."
"Apathetic," Colin said shortly. "He refuses to admit anything unusual."
"How the hell could he rationalize losing consciousness and waking up in a windowless room?"
Colin shrugged. "Brain's a funny thing," was his only comment. His eyes were fixed38 intently on the screen. Suddenly Harkins noticed the slip of paper tucked under the corner of one of the dishes.
Colin leaned forward, took his pipe out of his mouth.
Harkins withdrew the paper and looked at it. Even on the screen, Colin could see the writing, almost make out the words.
Harkins stared briefly at the paper, turned it over and looked at the other side in puzzlement. He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned.
Colin sat heavily back in his chair. He sighed.
"He didn't even see it," Banning said disgustedly.
"He saw the paper, not the message."
"Why?"
"Personal communication. It implies the existence of another communicating—entity. He won't admit it." Colin re-lit his pipe.
"Ah, hell!"
"I guess we'll have to take the direct approach," Colin said thoughtfully.
He lay relaxed on the bed in the little room, his eyes closed, his face calm and quiet. Pulse normal, temperature normal. Above and in the walls recorders and cameras purred almost silently with the bland39 indifference40 of omniscience41.
Harkins.
Yes.
Can you hear me?
Pause. Then:
You are Richard Harkins.
Yes.
Colonel....
Yes.
Can you hear me?
I.... No. Anxious contortion43. All right. It's all right.
The man's face returned to relaxation44.
How old are you?
Thirty-two.
Have you always been thirty-two?
...
Have you always been thirty-two?
... no ... Hesitantly.
You were once younger.
Yes.
You were once a child and grew to be a young man and grew to be thirty-two.
... yes ...
Why do you hesitate?
I don't understand all the words you say.
What words don't you understand?
Well—Man. The expression of pain and anxiety flitted across his relaxed features.
I will explain the words later. Don't worry about them now.
All right.
Richard Harkins, we are going to move back to a time when you were nineteen. You are nineteen years old. You are nineteen.
How old are you?
Nineteen.
What are you doing?
I—I'm a cadet, I—
What kind of cadet?
... SpaServ ...
All right, now we'll move ahead two years. You are twenty-one years old. Twenty-one. How old are you?
Gradually Colin brought Harkins forward in time, carefully, feeling his way gingerly along the dark corridors of his mind. He brought him through cadets, graduation, his marriage to Martha (touchy: gently, gently)—his service in the planetary fleet.
—nobody seems to know. Something secret, but no telling. Everything's secret this year. Testing officers right and left and up and down. But nobody knows what for....
... card waiting for me at breakfast ...
Months of testing. Still nobody knows, but the rumors are running fast and heavy. Whole base preoccupied46 with the misty47 Phoenix Project. Secret construction hangar, security precautions to the point of absurdity48....
... I'm it! ...
... it's faster-than-light drive, that's what Phoenix Project is. Faster-than-light. The big dream, the dream of the stars ...
Training. Slower through the two years of intensive training. This may be a critical phase. Two years, endless repetitive drill, drill practice drill drill drill.... Colin's forehead feels cool as he sits beside the bed. Perspiration49. A glance at his watch shows him two hours since they began.
How did you take to this intensive training?
All right. It was all right. Dull, you know, but it was all right generally. After the first year it was pretty automatic. Conditioned response, I didn't have to think. If and when such and such happens, press this button, throw that switch. Automatic.
Automatic, Colin thought. That's why he came back then. Without volition, responding to given signals according to training.
... walking toward the ship. She's big and bulky, but we're friends by now. Now I'm climbing the ladder up to the lock ...
... listening to the count down ... two ... one ... fire! ...
Harkins grunted50 as the re-lived acceleration51 slammed him back in the control chair with a relentless52 and unabating pressure. He was silent for thirty seconds.
... blacked out, not long. Report in to Gila Base, launching successful. They acknowledge, give me course. I'm moving "up", at right angles to the plane of the ecliptic. Fastest way to get away from large mass bodies ...
Time then on atomic rockets, almost a full day. Colin brushed over this phase, which was routine. As far as he could tell, Harkins' duties had been designed principally to keep him from getting bored before it was time to cut in the Skipdrive, and this corresponded with what General Banning had told him.
As he approached the time of the Skip, he moved more slowly, taking in detail.
... three minute bell. The bell is a pretty sound. I am checking the controls again. Everything is fine. I am sitting down in the control chair with my hands relaxed over the ends of the arms. When my fingers brush against the buttons, they tingle53, or seem to. We're all ready. There's the two minute bell ...
Pause.
One minute bell ...
Suddenly Harkins sat stiffly upright on the bed. His eyes snapped open, staring with fear and disbelief at something Colin could not see.
Oh, my God, he whispered.
What is it?
But there was no direct answer. Harkins repeated:
Oh, my God, my God, my God ...
What do you see? What is there?
Oh Jesus the stars the stars the stars God in heaven I can't Jesus make them go make them go make them go ...
With a whimper, he clenched his eyes shut and fell back on the bed. He drew his knees slowly and jerkily up to his chest, as if resisting the movement, clasped his arms around his legs tightly.
He began to rock back and forth, gently, gently, as if immersed in water, his breath making an involuntary whining55 sound as it passed his constricted56 throat.
Move forward in time. Move ahead. You are coming out of the Skip. You are coming out of the Skip. You are returning to normal space.
Colin's voice was steady and calm over the high-pitched whines57 coming from the throat of the man on the bed. Suddenly his face relaxed. The eyes remained closed, but closed as if in sleep, rather than anguish58. His arms and shoulder released their clenched grip around his knees.
Evenly, smoothly59, his legs straightened on the bed, his feet digging into the covers and pushing them into a roll at the bottom. He finally lay as he had begun, stretched straight with his hands beside his thighs60 and his face relaxed. When he spoke61, it was in a normal, almost conversational62 tone.
... belled out. I like the sound of that bell, it is relaxing. It's a good signal and I'm glad it happens that way. I stand up from the control chair and stretch. I have the strong notion something very pleasant has happened.
How do you feel? Do you feel strange?
No, I feel fine. Everything is fine. I check the instruments, and they show that a Skip has been completed. That's good. I don't—I don't—somehow I can't remember why I wanted to ...
His voice broke off, puzzled. Colin waited, and in a minute Harkins began to speak again.
... hear the sound of the Skipdrive. It comforts me. Funny, I don't remember ever hearing it before ...
Go back before. Go back. You hear the one minute bell. You can hear the one minute bell and you are ready to make your Skip. You are getting ready to make your Skip.
Harkins snapped upright again and repeated his actions. He shouted and screamed, his body was forced into the foetal position jerkily....
OH GOD THE STARS THE STARS THE STARS
Whimpering.
Go forward. You are returning to normal space....
I feel fine, everything is fine. I check the instruments ...
Go back....
Colin's shirt was slick on his body with sweat, his face looked old, older, his breath came in almost imperceptible quaverings, but his voice remained calm and assured, in violent and distinct contrast to the strain that showed plainly as age in his face—
Move ahead....
Move back....
Twenty-three minutes later, Colin closed his eyes and said:
In ten minutes from this time you will waken feeling refreshed and relaxed, as after a good sleep. You will be alert and fresh when you waken. You will feel as if you have just had a pleasant nap. You will remember nothing of what has happened while you were asleep, but you will feel fresh and relaxed when you waken ten minutes from this time.
He finished the waking-formula mechanically and left the little room. He walked slowly and deliberately to his quarters on the base, as though holding himself rigidly64 in control. He did not answer Banning's excited questions except to say, "I can't talk about it now."
Reaching his room he fell full length on the bed and was asleep nearly before the swaying of the bed had quieted.
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1
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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mechanisms
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| n.机械( mechanism的名词复数 )；机械装置；[生物学] 机制；机械作用 | |
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improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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alleviated
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| 减轻，缓解，缓和( alleviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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18
phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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monolithic
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| adj.似独块巨石的；整体的 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
binoculars
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| n.双筒望远镜 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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psychiatrist
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| n.精神病专家；精神病医师 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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26
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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fixtures
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| （房屋等的）固定装置( fixture的名词复数 )； 如（浴盆、抽水马桶）； 固定在某位置的人或物； （定期定点举行的）体育活动 | |
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31
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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apathetic
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| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
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tamped
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| v.捣固( tamp的过去式和过去分词 )；填充；（用炮泥）封炮眼口；夯实 | |
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34
scribbling
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| n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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36
cubicle
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| n.大房间中隔出的小室 | |
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pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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omniscience
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| n.全知，全知者，上帝 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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43
contortion
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| n.扭弯，扭歪，曲解 | |
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44
relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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46
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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47
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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48
absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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49
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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50
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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51
acceleration
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| n.加速，加速度 | |
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52
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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53
tingle
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| vi.感到刺痛，感到激动；n.刺痛，激动 | |
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54
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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55
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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constricted
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| adj.抑制的，约束的 | |
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57
whines
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| n.悲嗥声( whine的名词复数 )；哀鸣者v.哀号( whine的第三人称单数 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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58
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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59
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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60
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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61
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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62
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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63
lessening
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| 减轻，减少，变小 | |
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64
rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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