THE WAY BACK
By SAM MOSKOWITZ
The Story of a Vagabond of Space Who
Found Himself in the Far Galaxies.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Comet January 41.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Michel Drawers crumpled the enormous star-map in his big hairy arms andlet it drop from listless fingers. It floated slowly to the ground,scarcely claimed by the infinitesimal gravity of the tiny sky-rock.
Hopelessly he gazed aloft, searching, with an air of finality theimmense sweep of the cosmos for some familiar sign—a well knownconstellation, perhaps, that might be utilized as a sign post of space.
Unrewarded, he eased himself off a hard, metallic projection hehad been seated upon and turned back toward his petite littlestar-ship—appropriately and affectionately known as "Star-Struck."
He had to face cold, inevitable reality. He was lost—lost amid thestark immensity of unfamiliar worlds. Ahead of him lay a long andhopeless search. He must sweep across the void from zone to zone.Exploring the most colossal work of all nature for some clue that mightsolve this puzzle and show him the way back—the way back home.
And he smirked as he thought of applying the term "home" to Tellus.A home was something only successful people could boast of in thisday and age. Misfit youth could not expect such comfort. Himself, andthousands like him, unable to fit into the scheme of civilizationcurrently preponderant upon Earth must take the only course open tothem. Must be vanguards of a new frontier—the greatest frontier.
Sick with nostalgia and ineffable longing, they must brave the dangers,the rigors of outer space—blast trillions of miles past the solarsystem on a metal steed that laughed at the limited speeds of light.That roared and romped past universe after island universe. And alwaysthe delicate Roxitometer clicked along—searching with tireless,machine-like efficiency for traces of Roxite on the many worlds passed.
Roxite? That was the fuel that made these star-ships possible. Thesubstance whose elemental atoms could be split with tremendous fury torelease an inconceivable flood of power—controlled power—controlledby the comparatively tiny Roxite engines which curbed these terribleenergies and directed them into the proper channels of usefulness.
Centuries ago men had searched for gold. Now gold was merely anothermetal. Today, men searched for Roxite—a few ounces of which commandedfabulous prices from the great interplanetary corporations on Earth.
And as gold had eluded the best efforts of most men in past years, soRoxite eluded all but the luckiest prospectors today. There was plentyof Roxite in the universe. But most of it was buried deep within thecores of tremendous suns. Suns that had a surface temperature thatmade the hottest things on Earth seem like a bitter arctic blast bycomparison.
The thing that counted on Earth these days was brains. Everyone hadample opportunity to develop what brain power they had. The finestschools and universities boasting the most advanced and elaboratelypresented programs of education ever known were free to the multitudes.But of what value was an ultra fine education when everyone else hadone, too? It still settled back to basic ingenuity and natural inbornintelligence when it came to the man who got ahead and the man whostayed behind.
Five hundred years ago, possessing his present knowledge he might havebeen one of the world's greatest men. Today he was just one of millionsof others, all of whom could do the same things he could—and some ofthem could do better.
What an incomparable paradox h