Flight Perilous!
By Ray C. Noll
As Captain of the ship, Hiller knew full
responsibility was his, if he ordered Marship III
through the uncharted asteroid belt—to death!...
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
May 1955
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
As Fred Hiller slid back the door to his quarters in answer to theirknock, he found them lined up tensely against the bulkheads of thecompanionway.
It was the best assembly area the jammed ship could offer. Here thecommander with a short turn of his head could meet any pair of eyesin the nine-man crew. They had met here before, in a more friendlyatmosphere, soon after acceleration stopped and once for planning. Heconsidered it more effective for personal communication than the shipspeaker system.
But this assembly was different: it was their idea. They wanted adecision. They stood without moving, waiting for him to speak. Theirdiscussions by this time probably had narrowed the alternatives to two.
As commander, of course, he was paid to make decisions on Marship III.And he began to realize by their faces which alternative the consensusexpected. Their expressions indicated that in a degree every damn oneof them was scared, scared enough to unitize their thinking.
Phil Bleck was the one fishing for an impressive opening. He movedforward to face the ship commander with hands pressed on his hipsdefiantly. This was the Phil Bleck, young man genius of UnitedNuclear, pressured aboard Marship III as nuclear engineer through acouple of Senators and the Secretary of Defense. Oh, he was good, aslong as he wasn't under fire. So good posterity required him and hewas obligated to save his skin. Hiller had expected Bleck would be thespokesman.
"We want to know if you decided yet, Hiller," Bleck nearly mocked.
"I'd have called this assembly if I had," Fred Hiller replied,emphasizing a commanderish tone of voice.
"Then you haven't." Bleck turned to the others significantly andbrought back with him a harsher gaze, which he leveled at thecommander. "Most of us here think there's only one sane way out. Acouple will go along with any decision. But most of us, including me,want to turn back. Isn't that right?" He turned again to the men forsupport. Some nodded.
"We figured the chances if we keep on course," Bleck went on, breathinga little heavier. "They're three to one against making it. I don'tlike those odds, Hiller,"—his upper lip was curling a little—"and wedidn't agree to odds like that when we volunteered. With what we knownow, we can plan another trip and avoid this mess next time. That way,you'd only waste time and money; going ahead, we waste that plus thepriceless knowledge of these scientists, the best the States has tooffer."
While Bleck was blowing off, Hiller had studied each man in turn. Theyhardly represented a crew, though the men had specific jobs to performduring takeoff, transit, and setdown. They represented specialists whowould bring back for the first time authoritative reports on Mars—thefirst two ships had not returned....
Marship III, several times the size of the first ones, but notone-hundredth as much publicized, had been under construction since thefirst Marship attempts.
The crew technicians Hiller possessed on the trip were three. And as hefound the eyes of each, he realized they were not with Bleck.
Art Ea