Surely Collins was an idiot. He
kept dreaming of women in a
world that knew nothing of love's
delight. But where there's life--
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Fantastic Universe September 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
_Few writers possess William Campbell Gault's sensitive capacity
for balancing delicacy with daring in themes which gracefully
skirt the edge of the outrageous, and open up entire new worlds of
speculation which future historians will most assuredly encounter
in their travels time and time again. Seldom has he written a story
more imaginatively audacious than this._
It was on the Mars-Jupiter run, a trip flea-bitten with asteroids, and
needing a Level-One navigator. In all the galaxy, there were three
Level-One navigators, and Horse Collins was one, and he was ours. By
'ours,' I mean _Gideon Shipping, Inc._ Twelve years I've piloted for
them, and I think they're the best in the business.
Johnny "Horse" Collins was a typical space bum in one way. He
was restless, he wanted to see what was out there. But he lacked
discipline. And his thinking was earth-bound conventional. He'd even
played football at college, and that's where he'd picked up the 'Horse'
nickname. He'd been an All-Earth fullback, and why he'd gone on to
navigator's school from there I'm not competent to judge. A man who
can make All-Earth in a game dominated by robots is bound to have some
body. No one but a sportswriter would suspect he might also have a mind.
Horse had a fine mind for his business; otherwise he was, as I've said,
rather conventional, like a fullback. He liked women, for one thing.
"Why?" I asked him one day. "Their primary function is handled better
by the Massago-Lust. If they have any secondary functions, I've
forgotten them."
"You never knew any of their functions, except through books," Horse
answered. "Second-hand living."
I stared at him. If traveling among the stars wasn't living, then what
the hell was? I asked him that pointblank.
"It's nothing I could explain to you," he said. "You're space-happy."
"Why are you here, Horse?" I asked him quietly.
"Because I thought there'd be adventure, out here. Strange lands and
strange people."
"Jupiter isn't a _strange_ land. It's simply a land of ice and lava, a
grotesque, fascinating, frightening...."
"No people," Horse interrupted. "And how about Mars?"
"Mars is a disappointment, sure. I was talking about Jupiter, and you
say 'no people.' Earth is full of people. Too full. That's why we have
the Massago-Lust."
"And the women rationed to the scientists. Who do they think they are?"
"They're the people who cut our shackles, fullback. They're the people
who refused to be earth-bound."
"Mmm-hmm. And they're the cuties who could just as well maintain the
population quota with artificial insemination, too. But do they? Come
to think of it, why don't they?"
"You'd better check your orbit log," I told him. "We're getting into
asteroid alley."
"Yes, Chief. Yes, Boss. Yes, _Sir_!" He pulled out the flats, and
looked through the electronic scanner. Then he picked up a stylus and
adjusted it to the graph arm, and took another look through the scanner.