- Home
- Isaac Asimov
Lucky Starr The And The Moons of Jupiter ls-5 Page 3
Lucky Starr The And The Moons of Jupiter ls-5 Read online
Page 3
The lieutenant, who had also been staring fondly at the V-frog, paused to gather his wits before answering. "Yes. It's simple enough. We have artificial gravity fields here on Jupiter Nine as on any asteroid or on any space ship for that matter. They are arranged at each of the main corridors, end to end, so that you can fall the length of them in either direction. It's like dropping straight down a hole on Earth." Lucky nodded. "How fast do you drop?" "Well, that's the point. Ordinarily, gravity pulls constantly and you fall faster and faster…"
"Which is why I ask my question," interposed Lucky dryly.
"But not under Agrav controls. Agrav is really A-grav: no gravity, you see. Agrav can be used to absorb gravitational energy or store it or transfer it. The point is you only fall so fast, you see, and no faster.
With a gravitational field in the other direction, too, you can even slow down. An Agrav corridor with two pseudo-grav fields is very simple and it has been used as a steppingstone to an Agrav ship which works in a single gravitational field. Now Engineers' Quarters, which is where your rooms will be, is only a little over a mile from here and the most direct route is by Corridor A-2. Ready?"
"We will be once you explain how we're to work Agrav."
"That's hardly a problem." Lieutenant Nevsky presented each with a light harness, adjusting them over the shoulders and at the waist, talking rapidly about the controls.
And then he said, "If you'll follow me, gentlemen, the corridor is just a few yards in this direction."
Bigman hesitated at the opening of the corridor. He was not afraid of space in itself, or of drops in themselves. But all his life he had been used to bridging gaps under Martian gravity or less. This time the pseudo-grav field was at full Earth-normal, and under its influence the corridor was a brilliantly lighted hole, plummeting, apparently, straight downward, even though in actuality (Bigman's mind told him) it paralleled the satellite's surface closely.
The lieutenant said, "Now this is the lane for travel in the direction of Engineers' Quarters. If we were to approach from the other side, 'down' would appear to be in the other direction. Or we could make 'up' and 'down' change places by appropriate adjustments of our Agrav controls."
He looked at the expression on Bigman's face and said, "You'll get the idea as you go along. It becomes second nature after a while."
He stepped into the corridor and didn't drop an inch. It was as though he were standing on an invisible platform.
He said earnestly, "Have you set the dial at zero?''
Bigman did so, and instantly all sensation of gravity vanished. He stepped into the corridor.
Now the lieutenant's hand on the central knob of his own controls turned it sharply, and he sank, gathering speed. Lucky followed him, and Bigman, who would sooner have fallen the length of the corridor under double gravity and been smashed to pulp than fail to do anything Lucky did, took a deep breath and let himself fall.
"Turn back to zero," called the lieutenant, "and you'll be moving at constant velocity. Get the feel of it"
Periodically they approached and passed through luminous green letters that glowed keep to this side, Once there was the flash of a man passing (falling, really) in the other direction. He was moving much more rapidly than they were.
"Are there ever any collisions, Lieutenant?" asked Lucky.
"Not really," said the lieutenant. "The experienced dropper watches for people who might be overtaking him or whom he might be overtaking, and it's easy enough to slow down or speed up. Of course the boys will bump on purpose sometimes. It's a kind of rowdy fun that ends with a broken collarbone sometimes." He looked quickly at Lucky. "Our boys play rough."
Lucky said, "I understand. The commander warned me."
Bigman, who had been staring downward through the well-lit tunnel into which he was sinking, cried in sudden exhilaration, "Hey, Lucky, this is fun when you get used to it," and turned his controls into the positive region.
He sank faster, his head moving down to a level with Lucky's feet, then farther down at an increasing rate.
Lieutenant Nevsky cried out in instant alarm, "Stop that, you fool. Turn back into the negatives!"
Lucky called out an imperious, "Bigman, slow down!"
They caught up to him, the lieutenant angrily exclaiming. "Don't ever do that! There are all sort of barriers and partitions along these corridors, and if you don't know your way, you'll be slamming into one just when you think you're safe."
"Here, Bigman," said Lucky. "Hold the V-frog. That will give you some responsibility and make you behave, perhaps,"
"Aw, Lucky," said Bigman, abashed. "I was just kicking my heels a bit. Sands of Mars, Lucky…"
"All right," said Lucky. "No harm done," and Bigman brightened at once.
Bigman looked down again. Falling at a constant rate was not quite the same as free fall in space. In space, nothing seemed to move. A space ship might be traveling at a velocity of hundreds of thousands of miles an hour and there would still be the sensation of motion-lessness all about. The distant stars never moved.
Here, though, the sense of motion was all about. The lights and openings and various attachments that lined the corridor walls flashed past.
In space, one expected that there would be no "up" and "down," but here there was none either and it seemed wrong. As long as he looked "down" past his feet, it seemed "down" and that was all right. When he looked "up," however, there would be a quick sensation that "up" was really "down," that he was standing head downward falling "up." He looked toward his feet again quickly to get rid of the sensation.
The lieutenant said, "Don't bend too far forward, Bigman. The Agrav works to keep you lined up in the direction of fall, but if you bend over too much, you'll start tumbling."
Bigman straightened.
The lieutenant said, "There's nothing fatal about tumbling. Anyone who's used to Agrav can straighten himself out again. Beginners would find it troublesome, however. We'll decelerate now. Move the dial into the negatives and keep it there. About minus five."
He was slowing as he spoke, moving above them. His feet dangled at Bigman's eye level.
Bigman moved the dial, trying desperately to line himself up with the lieutenant. And as he slowed, "up" and "down" became definite, and in the wrong way. He was standing on his head.
He said, "Hey, the blood's rushing to my head."
The lieutenant said sharply, "There are footholds along the sides of the corridor. Hook one with the toe of your foot as you reach it and let go quickly."
He did so as he said this. His head swung outward, and head and feet reversed position. He continued swinging and stopped himself with a quick hand tap against the wall.
Lucky followed suit, and Bigman, flailing widely with his short legs, managed to catch one of the footholds at last. He whirled sharply and caught the wall with his elbow just a trifle too hard for comfort but managed to line up properly.
At least he was head-up again. He wasn't falling any more, but rising, as though he had been shot out of a cannon and rising against gravity more and more slowly; but at least he was head-up.
When they were moving at a slow crawl, Bigman, looking uneasily toward his feet, thought: We're going to be falling again. And suddenly the corridor looked like an endlessly deep well and his stomach tightened.
But the lieutenant said, "Adjust to zero," and at once they stopped slowing down. They just moved upward, as though in a smooth, slow elevator, until they reached a cross-level at which the lieutenant, seizing a foothold with one toe, brought himself to a feathery stop.
"Engineers' Quarters, gentlemen," he said.
"And," added Lucky Starr gently, "a reception committee."
For men were waiting for them in the corridor now, fifty of them at least.
Lucky said, "You said they liked to play rough, Lieutenant, and maybe they want to play now."
He stepped firmly out into the corridor. Bigman, nostrils flaring with excitement and grateful to be on the
firm pseudo-grav of a solid floor, clutched the V-frog's cage tightly and was at Lucky's heels, facing the waiting men of Jupiter Nine.
4. Initiation!
Lieutenant Nevsky tried to make his voice crackle with authority as he placed his hand on the butt of his blaster. "What are you men doing here?"
There was a small murmur from the men, but by and large they remained quiet. Eyes turned to the one of them who stood in front, as though they were waiting for him to speak.
The leader of the men was smiling, and his face was crinkled into an expression of apparent good will. His straight hair, parted in the middle, had a light-orange tint to it. His cheekbones were broad and he chewed gum. His clothing was of synthetic fiber, as was true of that of the others, but unlike the others', his shirt and trousers were ornamented with brass buttons that were large and bulky. Four on his shirt front, one each on the two shirt pockets, and four down the side of each pants leg: fourteen altogether. They seemed to serve no purpose; to be only for show.
"All right, Summers," said the lieutenant, turning to this man, "what are the men doing here?"
Summers spoke now in a soft, wheedling voice.
"Well, now, Lieutenant, we thought it would be nice to meet the new man. He'll be seeing a lot of us. He'll be asking questions. Why shouldn't we meet him now?"
He looked at Lucky Starr as he spoke, and for a moment there was a touch of ice in that glance that swallowed up all the show of softness.
The lieutenant said, "You men should be at work."
"Have a heart, Lieutenant," said Summers, chewing even more slowly and leisurely. "We've been working. Now we want to say hello."
The lieutenant was obviously uncertain as to his next move. He looked doubtfully at Lucky.
Lucky said, "Which rooms are to be ours, Lieutenant?"
"Rooms 2A and 2B, sir. To find them-"
''I'l find them. I'm sure one of these men will direct me. And now, Lieutenant Nevsky, that you've directed us to our quarters, I think your assignment is completed. I'll be seeing you again."
"I can't leave!" said Lieutenant Nevsky in a low, appalled whisper.
"I think you can."
"Sure you can, Lieutenant," said Summers, grinning more broadly than ever. "A simple hello won't hurt the boy." There was a snicker of laughter from the men behind him. "And besides, you've been asked to leave."
Bigman approached Lucky and muttered in an urgent whisper. "Lucky, let me give the V-frog to the lieutenant I can't fight and hold it, too."
"You just hold it," said Lucky. "I want it exactly here… Good day, Lieutenant. Dismissed!"
The lieutenant hesitated, and Lucky said in a tone that, for all its softness, bit like steel. "That's an order, Lieutenant."
Lieutenant Nevsky's face assumed a soldierly rigidity. He said sharply, "Yes, sir."
Then, surprisingly, he hesitated one further moment and glanced down at the V-frog in the crook of Big-man's arm, as it chewed idly at a fern frond. "Take care of that little thing." He turned and was in the Agrav corridor in two steps, disappearing almost at once in a rush of speed.
Lucky turned to face the men again. He was under no illusions. They were grim-faced and they meant business, but unless he could face them down and prove that he meant business as well, his mission would come to nothing against the rock of their hostility. He would have to win them over somehow.
Summers' smile had become the least bit wolfish. He said, "Well, now, friend, the uniform-boy is gone. We can talk. Fm Red Summers. What's your name?"
Lucky smiled in return. "My name is David Starr. My friend's name is Bigman."
"Seems to me I heard you called Lucky when all that whispering was going on a while back."
"I'm called Lucky by my friends."
"Isn't that nice. Do you want to stay lucky?"
"Do you know a good way?"
"Matter of fact, Lucky Starr, I do." Suddenly his face contorted itself into a bitter scowl. "Get off Jupiter Nine."
There was a hoarse roar of approval from the others, and a few voices took up the cry of "Get off! Get off!"
They crowded closer, but Lucky stood his ground. "I have important reasons to stay on Jupiter Nine."
"In that case, I'm afraid you aren't lucky," said Summers. "You're a greenhorn and you look soft, and soft greenhorns get hurt on Jupiter Nine. We worry about you."
"I think I won't get hurt."
"That's what you think, eh?" said Summers. "Ar-mand, come here."
From the ranks behind him, a huge man stepped forward, round-faced, beefy of build, with large shoulders and a barrel chest. He topped Lucky's six feet one by half a head and looked down at the young councilman with a smile that showed yellowed, wide-spaced teeth.
The men were beginning to take seats on the floor. They shouted to one another with lighthearted cheer, as though they were about to watch a ball game.
One called out, "Hey, Armand, watch out you don't step on the kid!"
Bigman started, and glared furiously in the direction of the voice but could not identify the speaker.
Summers said, "You could still leave, Starr."
Lucky said, "I have no intention of doing so, particularly at a moment when you seem to be planning some sort of entertainment."
"Not for you," said Summers. "Now listen, Starr, we're ready for you. We've been ready since we got word that you were coming. We've had enough of you little tinhorns from Earth and we aren't taking any more. I've got men stationed on various levels. We'll know if the commander tries to interfere, and if he does, then by Jupiter, we're ready to go on strike. Am I right, men?"
"Right!" came back the multiple roar.
"And the commander knows it," said Summers, "and I don't think he'll interfere. So this gives us our chance to give you our initiation and after that I'll ask you again if you want to leave. If you're conscious, that is."
"You're going to a lot of trouble for nothing," said Lucky. "What harm am I doing you?"
"You won't be doing us any," said Summers. "I guarantee that."
Bigman said, in his tense, high-pitched voice, "Look, you cobber, you're talking to a councilman. Have you stopped to figure what happens if you fool with the Council of Science?"
Summers looked at him suddenly, put his fists on his hips, and bent his head back to laugh. "Hey, men, it talks. I was wondering what it was. It looks as though Lucky Snoop has brought along his baby brother for protection."
Bigman went dead-white, but under the cover of the laughter Lucky stooped and spoke through stiff lips. "Your job is to hang on to the V-frog, Bigman. I'll take care of Summers. And, Great Galaxy, Bigman, stop broadcasting anger! I can't get a thing on the V-frog except that."
Bigman swallowed hard twice, three tunes.
Summers said softly, "Now, Councilman Snoop, can you maneuver under Agrav?"
"I just have, Mr. Summers."
"Well, we'll just have to test you and make sure. We can't have anyone around who hasn't learned all the Agrav ropes. It's too dangerous. Right, men?"
"Right!" they roared again.
"Armand here," said Summers, and his hand rested on one of Armand's huge shoulders, "is our best teacher. You'll know all about Agrav maneuvering when you're through with him. Or you will know if you stay out of his way. I suggest you get out into the Agrav corridor now. Armand will join you."
Lucky said, "If I choose not to go?"
"Then we'll throw you into the corridor anyway and Armand goes after you."
Lucky nodded. "You seem determined. Are there any rules to this lesson I'm going to get?"
There was wild laughter, but Summers held up his arms. "Just keep out of Armand's way, Councilman. That' s the only rule you'll have to remember. We'll be at the lip of the corridor watching. If you try to crawl out of Agrav before you've completed your lesson, we'll throw you back in, and there are men stationed at other levels, watching, and they're ready to do the same."
Bigman cried, "Sands of Mars, your man outw
eighs Lucky by fifty pounds and he's an expert with Agrav!"
Summers turned on him in mock surprise. "No! I never thought of that. What a shame!" There was laughter from the men. "On your way, Starr. Get into the corridor, Armand. Drag him in if you have to."
"He won't have to," said Lucky. He turned and moved into the open space of the wide Agrav corridor. As his feet drifted out into empty air, his fingers caught gently at the wall, twisting him in a slow, turning motion that he stopped with another touch against the wall. He stood there in midair, facing the men.
There was some murmuring at Lucky's maneuver, and Armand nodded, speaking for the first time in a rolling appreciative bass. "Hey, mister, that's not bad."
Summers, lips suddenly set and with a frown newly creasing his forehead, struck Armand a sharp blow on the back. "Don't talk, you idiot! Get in after him and give it to him."
Armand moved forward slowly. He said, "Hey, Red, let's not make too much of this."
Summers' face contorted in fury. "Get in there! And you do what I said. I told you what he is. If we don't get rid of him, they'll be sending more." His words were a harsh whisper that didn't carry.
Armand stepped into the corridor and stood face to face with Lucky.
Lucky Starr waited in what was almost absence of mind. He was concentrating on the faint whiffs of emotion brought him by the V-frog. Some he could recognize without difficulty, both as to their nature and their owner. Red Summers was easiest to detect: fear and niggling hate mixed with an undertone of anxious triumph. Armand loosed a small leak of tension. Occasionally there were sharp pinpoints of excitement from one or another, and sometimes Lucky could identify the owner because it coincided with a happy shout or a threatening one. All of it had to be sorted out from the steady trickle of Bigman's anger, of course.
But now he was staring into Armand's small eyes and he was aware that the other was bobbing up and down, a few inches either way. Armand's hand fingered his chest control.
Lucky was instantly alert. The other was alternating the gravitational direction, moving the controls this way and that. Was he expecting to confuse Lucky?