Blair Freedman had torn that tunnel through
the grinding asteroid wall—with the mighty
Cutter ... he'd die readily enough now to
keep it open—but not with the girl he loved!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1946.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Blair Freedman pushed the jet control slightly, sending the X26 into awide slow arc toward the asteroid tunnel. He sighed and glanced at thechart on the desk. Trip number seven thousand twenty-two. For the restof his life.
"Come over here, Jerry," he called.
Jerry Graham, short, slight of figure, smiled and left the navigationdesk. Graham's face was black where his razor had left heavy hair justbelow the surface of the skin. His smile was mild and the brown eyesbehind heavy spectacles were gentle.
"What is it, Blair?"
He stood beside Freedman, watching the solid, moving wall of theasteroid belt.
Blair Freedman sighed.
"Did you ever have the urge to deliberately miss the entrance of thetunnel? To hit full on against the asteroids?"
Graham stiffened, feeling ice water sluice suddenly into his veins.
"Are you nuts?"
Freedman relaxed. His grip on the control lever became lighter, moreexpert.
"No," he said slowly. "No, I'm okay. For a minute I was crazy, I guess.That's why I called you."
Graham studied the face of the younger man. Freedman was tall,rather slim. Graham could never decide just what made Blair Freedmanattractive to the opposite sex, unless the secret lay in his deep, grayeyes and that shock of alarmingly red hair.
"I don't get it," he said. "Sure, the old routine gets tiresome. Butit's a job and someone has to do it. We can't all be in the WarriorPatrol."
Freedman had seemingly come to his senses now. He sent the shipstraight at the dark maw of the tunnel, flashed his colors to the guardship that hovered near the entrance with its big guns trained on him,and then they were in the darkness.
The brilliant lamps of the X26 sent splashes of light along the walls.Blair Freedman shuddered.
"Walls," he said idly. "Walls of twisting, gyrating death. I wonderwhat really happens when a ship hits them?"
He was talking half to himself, but Graham shuddered. Blair Freedmanneeded a rest, he decided. Needed to straighten himself out with theworld.
"You'd be torn to dust in ten seconds," he said. "That is, if youweren't riding in the Cutter."
The Cutter was the huge ship designed by Planet Control, to keep theasteroid tunnel open.
Freedman nodded.
"And that's another thing I've got on my mind."
Graham wanted him to talk, until all the bitterness was out of him.
"What's another thing?"
They were deep in the tunnel now. Graham's eyes checked the mileage.Fifteen miles in. Ten minutes before they would see light again.
Blair Freedman said, "I'm damned tired of running that ploughhorse.Pete Folley's got to get another man for the job. I'm quitting."
Both men continued to look straight ahead. Freedman kept his eyes onthe controls. He had said it now. Said what he had wanted to say fora month. A war was coming. He wanted "out" from the tunnel patrol. Hewas good enough for the warrior ships. He wanted to fly them. Get outinto space where there was excitement, and a chance to show that he wasready for something better.
"Look here, Blair," Graham said slowly. He had a helluva lump in histhroat. He felt lost. "Me, I'm not fit for the service. Too old. Icouldn't fly in here with anyone else. We been a team for years. Youcan't...."