Breaking Point Page 2

  II

  _The extremes of mysticism and of pragmatism have their own expressions of worship. Each has its form, and the difference between them is the difference between_ deus ex machina _and_ deus machina est. --_E. Hunter Waldo_

  "Of course it will open," said Hoskins. He strode past the stunned pilotand confidently palmed the control.

  The port didn't open.

  Hoskins said, "Hm?" as if he had been asked an inaudible question, andtried again. Nothing happened. "Skipper," he said over his shoulder,"Have a quick look at the meters behind you there. Are we gettingauxiliary power?"

  "All well here," said Anderson after a glance at the board. "And noshorts showing."

  There was a silence punctuated by the soft, useless clicking of thecontrol as Hoskins manipulated it. "Well, what do you know."

  "It won't work," said Johnny plaintively.

  "Sure it'll work," said Paresi swiftly, confidently. "Take it easy,Johnny."

  "It won't work," said Johnny. "It won't work." He stumbled across thecabin and leaned against the opposite bulkhead, staring at the closedport with his head a little to one side as if he expected it to shriekat him.

  "Let me try," said Ives, going to Hoskins. He put out his hand.

  "_Don't!_" Johnny cried.

  "Shut up, Johnny," said Paresi.

  "All right, Nick," said Johnny. He opened his face plate, went to therear bulkhead, keyed open an acceleration couch, and lay face down onit. Paresi watched him, his lips pursed.

  "Can't say I blame him," said the Captain softly, catching Paresi's eye."It's something of a shock. This shouldn't _be_. The safety factor's toogreat--a thousand per cent or better."

  "I know what you mean," said Hoskins. "I saw it myself, but I don'tbelieve it." He pushed the button again.

  "I believe it," said Paresi.

  Ives went to his desk, clicked the transmitter and receiver switches onand off, moved a rheostat or two. He reached up to a wall toggle, turneda small air-circulating fan on and off. "Everything else seems to work,"he said absently.

  "This is ridiculous!" exploded the Captain. "It's like having your keyshome, or arriving at the theater without your tickets. It isn'tdangerous--it's just stupid!"

  "It's dangerous," said Paresi.

  "Dangerous how?" Ives demanded.

  "For one thing--" Paresi nodded toward Johnny, who lay tensely, his facehidden. "For another, the simple calculation that if nothing inside thisship made that control fail, something outside this ship did it. And_that_ I don't like."

  "That couldn't happen," said the Captain reasonably.

  Paresi snorted impatiently. "Which of two mutually exclusive facts areyou going to reason from? That the ship can't fail? Then this failureisn't a failure; it's an external control. Or are you going to reasonthat the ship _can_ fail? Then you don't have to worry about an externalforce--but you can't trust anything about the ship. Do the trick thatmakes you happy. But do only one. You can't have both."

  Johnny began to laugh.

  Ives went to him. "Hey, boy--"

  Johnny rolled over, swung his feet down, and sat up, brushing the fatman aside. "What you guys need," Johnny chuckled, "is a nice kindpoliceman to feed you candy and take you home. You're real lost."

  Ives said, "Johnny, take it easy and be quiet, huh? We'll figure a wayout of this."

  "I already have, scrawny," said Johnny offensively. He got up, strode tothe port. "What a bunch of deadheads," he growled. He went two stepspast the port and grasped the control-wheel which was mounted on theother side of the port from the button.

  "Oh my God," breathed Anderson delightedly, "the manual! Anybody elsewant to be Captain?"

  "Factor of safety," said Hoskins, smiting himself on the brow. "There'sa manual control for everything on this scow that there can be. And westand here staring at it--"

  "If we don't win the furlined teacup...." Ives laughed.

  Johnny hauled on the wheel.

  It wouldn't budge.

  "Here--" Ives began to approach.

  "Get away," said Johnny. He put his hands close together on the rim ofthe wheel, settled his big shoulders, and hauled. With a sharp crack thewheel broke off in his hands.

  Johnny staggered, then stood. He looked at the wheel and then up at thebroken end of its shaft, gleaming deep below the surface of thebulkhead.

  "Oh, fine...." Ives whispered.

  Suddenly Johnny threw back his head and loosened a burst of high,hysterical laughter. It echoed back and forth between the metal wallslike a torrent from a burst dam. It went on and on, as if now that thedam was gone, the flood would run forever.

  Anderson called out "Johnny!" three times, but the note of command hadno effect. Paresi walked to the pilot and with the immemorial practiceslapped him sharply across the cheeks. "Johnny! Stop it!"

  The laughter broke off as suddenly as it had begun. Johnny's chestheaved, drawing in breath with great, rasping near-sobs. Slowly theydied away. He extended the wheel toward the Captain.

  "It broke off," he said, finally, dully, without emphasis.

  Then he leaned back against the hull, slowly slid down until he wassitting on the deck. "Broke right off," he said.

  Ives twined his fat fingers together and bent them until the knucklescracked. "Now what?"

  "I suggest," said Paresi, in an extremely controlled tone, "that we allsit down and think over the whole thing very carefully."

  Hoskins had been staring hypnotically at the broken shaft deep in thewall. "I wonder," he said at length, "which way Johnny turned thatwheel."

  "Counter-clockwise," said Ives. "You saw him."

  "I know that," said Hoskins. "I mean, which way: the right way, or thewrong way?"

  "Oh." There was a short silence. Then Ives said, "I guess we'll neverknow, now."

  "Not until we get back to Earth," said Paresi quickly.

  "You say 'until', or 'unless'?" Ives demanded.

  "I said 'until', Ives," said Paresi levelly, "and watch your mouth."

  "Sometimes," said the fat man with a dangerous joviality, "you pick thewrong way to say the right thing, Nick." Then he clapped the slenderdoctor on the back. "But I'll be good. We sow no panic seed, do we?"

  "Much better not to," said the Captain. "It's being done efficientlyenough from outside."

  "You are convinced it's being done from outside?" asked Hoskins, peeringat him owlishly.

  "I'm ... convinced of very little," said the Captain heavily. He went tothe acceleration couch and sat down. "I want out," he said. He wavedaway the professional comment he could see forming on Paresi's lips andwent on, "Not claustrophobia, Nick. Getting out of the ship's moreimportant than just relieving our feelings. If the trouble with the portis being caused by some fantastic _something_ outside this ship, we'llachieve a powerful victory over it, purely by ignoring it."

  "It broke off," murmured Johnny.

  "Ignore _that_," snorted Ives.

  "You keep talking about this thing being caused by something outside,"said Paresi. His tone was almost complaining.

  "Got a better hypothesis?" asked Hoskins.

  "Hoskins," said the Captain, "isn't there some way we can get out? Whatabout the tubes?"

  "Take a shipyard to move those power-plants," said Hoskins, "and even ifit could be done, those radioactive tubes would fry you before youcrawled a third of the way."

  "We should have a lifeboat," said Ives to no one in particular.

  "What in time does a ship like the _Ambassador_ need with a lifeboat?"asked Hoskins in genuine amazement.

  The Captain frowned. "What about the ventilators?"

  "Take us days to remove all the screens and purifiers," said Hoskins,"and then we'd be up against the intake ports. You could stroll outthrough any of them about as far as your forearm. And after that it'shull-metal, skipper. _That_ you don't cut, not with a piece of the Sun'score."

  The Captain got up and began pacing, slowly and steadily, as if t
heproblem could be trodden out like ripe grapes. He closed his eyes andsaid, "I've been circling around that idea for thirty minutes now. Look:the hull can't be cut because it is built so it can't fail. It doesn'tfail. The port controls were also built so they wouldn't fail. They dofail. The thing that keeps us in stays in shape. The thing that lets usout goes bad. Effect: we stay inside. Cause: something that wants us tostay inside."

  "Oh," said Johnny clearly.

  They looked at him. He raised his head, stiffened his spine against thebulkhead. Paresi smiled at him. "Sure, Johnny. The machine didn't fail.It was--controlled. It's all right." Then he turned to the Captain andsaid carefully, "I'm not denying what you say, Skipper. But I don't liketo think of what will happen if you take that tack, reason it through,and don't get any answers."

  "I'd hate to be a psychologist," said Ives fervently. "Do youextrapolate your mastications, too, and get frightened of the stink youmight get?"

  Paresi smiled coldly. "I control my projections."

  Captain Anderson's lips twitched in passing amusement, and then hisexpression sobered. "I'll take the challenge, Paresi. We have a causeand an effect. Something is keeping us in the ship. Corollary: We--orperhaps the ship--we're not welcome."

  "_Men of Earth,_" quoted Ives, in an excellent imitation of theaccentless English they had heard on the radio, "_welcome to ourplanet._"

  "They're kidding," said Johnny heartily, rising to his feet. He droppedthe control wheel with a clang and shoved it carelessly aside with hisfoot. "Who ever says exactly what they mean anyhow? I see thatconclusion the head-shrinker's afraid you'll get to, Skipper. If wecan't leave the ship, the only other thing we can do is to leave theplanet. That it?"

  Paresi nodded and watched the Captain closely. Anderson turned abruptlyaway from them all and stood, feet apart, head down, hands behind hisback, and stared out of the forward viewports. In the tense silence theycould hear his knuckles crack. At length he said quietly, "That isn'twhat we came here for, Johnny."

  Johnny shrugged. "Okay. Chew it up all you like, fellers. The only otherchoice is to sit here like bugs in a bottle until we die of old age.When you get tired of thinking that over, just let me know. I'll fly youout."

  "We can always depend on Johnny," said Paresi with no detectibleemphasis at all.

  "Not on me," said Johnny, and swatted the bulkhead. "On the ship.Nothing on any planet can stop this baby once I pour on the coal. She'sjust got too much muscles."

  "Well, Captain?" asked Hoskins softly.

  Anderson looked at the basking valley, at the too-blue sky and thenear-familiar, mellow-weathered crags. They waited.

  "Take her up," said the Captain. "Put her in orbit at two hundred kilos.I'm not giving up this easily."

  Ives swatted Johnny's broad shoulder. "That's a take-off _and_ alanding, if I know the Old Man. Go to it, Jets."

  Johnny's wide white grin flashed and he strode to the control chair."Gentlemen, be seated."

  "I'll take mine lying down," said Ives, and spread his bulk out on theacceleration couch. The others went to their take-off posts.

  "On automatics," said the Captain, "Fire away!"

  "Fire away!" said Johnny cheerfully. He reached forward and pressed thecentral control.

  Nothing happened.

  Johnny put his hand toward the control again. It moved as if there werea repellor field around the button. The hand moved more and more slowlythe closer it got, until it hovered just over the control and began totremble.

  "On manual," barked the Captain. "Fire!"

  "Manual, sir," said Johnny reflexively. His trembling hand darted up toan overhead switch, pulled it. He grasped the control bars and droppedthe heels of his hands heavily on the firing studs. From somewhere camea muted roar, a whispering; a subjective suggestion of the thunder ofreaction motors.

  A frown crossed Paresi's face. The rocket noise was gone as the mindreached for it, like an occluded thought. The motors were silent; therewasn't a tremor of vibration. Yet somewhere a ghost engine was warmingup, preparing a ghost ship for an intangible take-off into nothingness.

  He snapped off the catch of his safety belt and crossed swiftly andsilently to the console. Johnny sat raptly. A slow smile of satisfactionbegan to spread over his face. His gaze flicked to dials and gauges; henodded very slightly, and brought both hands down like an organistplaying a mighty chord. He watched the gauges. The needles were still,lying on their zero pins, and where lights should have flickered andflashed there was nothing. Paresi glanced at Anderson and met a worriedlook. Hoskins had his head cocked to one side, listening, puzzled. Ivesrose from the couch and came forward to stand beside Paresi.

  Johnny was manipulating the keys firmly. His fingers began to play arapid, skillful, silent concerto. His face had a look of intenseconcentration and of complete self-confidence.

  "Well," said Ives heavily. "That's a bust, too."

  Paresi spun to him. "_Shh!_" It was done with such intensity that Ivesrecoiled. With a warning look at him, Paresi walked to the Captain,whispered in his ear.

  "My God," said Anderson. "All right, Doctor." He came forward to thepilot's chair. Johnny was still concentratedly, uselessly at work.Anderson glanced inquiringly at Paresi, who nodded.

  "That does it," said the Captain, loudly. "Nice work, Johnny. We'resmack in orbit. The automatics couldn't have done it better. For once itfeels good to be out in space again. Cut your jets now. You can checkfor correction later."

  "Aye, sir," said Johnny. He made two delicate adjustments, threw amaster switch and swung around. "Whew! That's work!"

  Facing the four silent men, Johnny thumbed out a cigarette, put it inhis mouth, touched his lighter to it, drew a long slow puff.

  "Man, that goes good...."

  The cigarette was not lighted. Hoskins turned away, an expression ofsick pity on his face. Ives reached abruptly for his own lighter, andthe doctor checked him with a gesture.

  "Every time I see a hot pilot work I'm amazed," Paresi saidconversationally. "Such concentration ... you must be tuckered, Johnny."

  Johnny puffed at his unlit cigarette. "Tuckered," he said. "Yeah." Therewere two odd undertones to his voice suddenly. They were fatigue, andeagerness. Paresi said, "You're off-watch, John. Go stretch out."

  "Real tired," mumbled Johnny. He lumbered to his feet and went aft,where he rolled to the couch and was almost instantly asleep.

  The others congregated far forward around the controls, and for a longmoment stared silently at the sleeping pilot.

  "I don't get it," murmured Ives.

  "He really thought he flew us out, didn't he?" asked Hoskins.

  Paresi nodded. "Had to. There isn't any place in his cosmos for machinesthat don't work. Contrary evidence can get just so strong. Then, forhim, it ceased to exist. A faulty cigarette lighter irritated him, afailing airlock control made him angry and sullen and then hysterical.When the drive controls wouldn't respond, he reached his breaking point.Everyone has such a breaking point, and arrives at it just that way ifhe's pushed far enough."

  "Everyone?"

  Paresi looked from face to face, and nodded somberly. Anderson asked,"What knocked him out? He's trained to take far more strain than that."

  "Oh, he isn't suffering from any physical or conscious mental fatigue.The one thing he wanted to do was to get away from a terrifyingsituation. He convinced himself that he flew out of it. The next bestthing he could do to keep anything else from attacking him was to sleep.He very much appreciated my suggestion that he was worn out and neededto stretch out."

  "I'd very much appreciate some such," said Ives. "Do it to me, Nick."

  "Reach your breaking point first," said the doctor flatly, and went toplace a pillow between Johnny's head and a guard-rail.

  Hoskins turned away to stare at the peaceful landscape outside. TheCaptain watched him for a moment, then: "Hoskins!"

  "Aye."

  "I've seen that expression before. What are you thinking about?"

  The engin
eer looked at him, shrugged, and said mildly, "Chess."

  "What, especially?"

  "Oh, a very general thing. The reciprocity of the game. That's whatmakes it the magnificent thing it is. Most human enterprises can gang upon a man, slap him with one disaster after another without pause. Butnot chess. No matter who your opponent might be, every time he doessomething to you, _it's your move_."

  "Very comforting. Have you any idea of how we move now?"

  Hoskins looked at him, a gentle surprise on his aging face. "You missedmy point, Skipper. _We_ don't move."

  "Oh," the Captain whispered. His face tautened as it paled, "I ... Isee. We pushed the airlock button to get out. Countermove: It wouldn'twork. We tried the manual. Countermove: It broke off. And so on. Nowwe've tried to fly the ship out. Oh, but Hoskins--Johnny broke. Isn'tthat countermove enough?"

  "Maybe. Maybe you're right. Maybe the move wasn't trying the drivecontrols, though. Maybe the move was to do what was necessary to knockJohnny out." He shrugged again. "We'll very soon see."

  The Captain exhaled explosively through his nostrils. "We'll find out ifit's our move by moving," he gritted. "Ives! Paresi! We're going to goover this thing from the beginning. First, try the port. You, Ives."

  Ives grunted and went to the ship's side. Then he stopped.

  "_Where is the port?_"

  Anderson and Paresi followed Ives' flaccid, shocked gaze to the bulkheadwhere there had been the outline of the closed port, and beside it thehole which had held the axle of the manual wheel, and which now was asmooth, seamless curtain of impenetrable black. But Hoskins looked atthe Captain first of all, and he said "_Now_ it's our move," and onlythen did he turn with them to look at the darkness.