One Against The Stars
By VASELEOS GARSON
Earth's last hope against the vicious
radio-plague. A gleaming ship racing to
bring salvation back from Venus. And hidden
on the ship a thirteenth man—a plague
carrier whose touch brought screaming death.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1944.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
This was it. Its slim bright shape was Earth's last hope.
What matter the sweat, the blood and the tears that had gone into eachrivet, every plate? What matter the eyes blurred and dulled with plans,blueprints? What matter the cost.
This was it.
It was done.
They stood there—the riveters, the welders; the draughtsmen, theengineers; the mathematicians, the technicians—and there glowed intheir eyes a living flame.
This was the ship of hope.
Its rockets flickered into blue flames. Their soft purr of powerdeepened. Abruptly, the earth was trembling to the throaty roar ofrockets.
In its long steel-rollered cradle, the ship trembled.
One of the workers, his denim trousers grease-stained, bending down,scooped up a handful of the dust at his feet, flung it at the shiningship.
"Just for luck," he said.
In the glass bulge atop the shining ship, John Bairn, the pilot, lickedfeverish lips. He brushed the black hair away from his gray eyes. Hisstubby fingers raced over the keys of the control panel before him.
His right hand touched—almost reverently—the scarlet handle of thefiring lever.
He pushed the lever forward one notch ... two ... three....
He braced himself in the hydraulic-cushioned pilot's chair.
"Venus, here we come!"
The rockets roared faintly even in this sound-proofed cubicle. Then thepounding blood in his ears washed out all other sound. The pounding inhis ears grew throatier, louder.
The 9G acceleration blacked him out.
That dive was a little too steep, he was thinking, first time I everblacked out with somebody on my tail. He jerked his head around to seewhere the butcher was. And then he remembered.
He looked ahead. The stars were steady white flames in the black poolof space. Ah, there it was! The pale green flame that was Venus.
Somewhere, there, lay Earth's salvation.
Arlington Arden, the metal expert, came into the cubicle then, hisblond face pale.
"Some shove, huh?" he opined.
Bairn nodded, his gray eyes watched the orientation chart whose red andgreen and yellow lights were flickering in the rhythm that showed theywere on the mathematically-charted course.
"Think the stuff is really there, Arlie?" Bairn questioned.
"We're staking our lives on it, John."
"Yeah, and the lives of a billion like us. What if it isn't?"
"Venus' spectrum shows its presence. It's not an emanation that iseasily duplicated. If it isn't, it's too much of a grim joke—becausethe money in this ship could have paid for a thousand experiments. MyMary's got a touch of blue coloring in her skin—the first symptom,y'know."
"Sorry," Bairn said, and his voice was soft.
"Beautiful," Arden said. "I hope Mary can see it sometime." He waslooking out at space, his arms clasped behind him. "It's not like Ithought, though—this being the first humans to see the stars away fromearth." He stopped.
"It's so damn big and beautiful it hurts," he said at last.
"Yeah, I know," Bairn put in. "It makes guys like us feel cheap andsmall."
"No!" The word was explosive. Bairn jerked around in the pilot's cradleand stared. Arden had a frown on his forehead.
"And who in blue blazes are you?" Bairn snapped.
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