"I--I'm--fine," she choked. Then her eyes focused on Morrie across the
room. "Look out, Bill!" she screamed.
I turned. Morrie had wrenched a pipe from the water purifier and was
getting set to dive at me.
_Chapter 8_
Crouching, I awaited Morrie's onslaught. He held the aluminum
pipe--about a three-foot length--biding his time, his mouth twisting
in bitter frustration. I remember thinking how lucky I was that the
improvised weapon was aluminum and not heavy iron. _Small consolation_,
I thought. _He can certainly knock me out with it._
But Morrie's angry face showed more than a desire to make me
unconscious. He had the wild eyes of a madman, and there was murder in
his movements.
He swung the pipe. I ducked and it passed so close to my skull that I
could feel it brush through my hair. The force of the blow tore his
feet from the floor and he sailed upward, glancing off the garden trays
so that he turned a somersault and came down on his feet above my head.
I sprang at him. He stepped aside and swung the pipe, catching me a
glancing blow on the shoulder and knocking me across the ship and
against the water purifier. The machine was already a shambles, both of
us having hit it. The steam spurted into the room--water dripped on the
floor.
Bruised and cautious, I shuffled around the ship toward him. He stood
waving the pipe like a batter in a baseball game, determined not to
miss again. I could see it in his eyes.
I moved within reach and he struck. But this time I didn't dodge. I
caught the blow on my arm. Pain shot through it, but I'd caught the
blow soon enough to prevent the full force from breaking the bone. As
it hit, I seized the pipe with my other hand and twisted it sharply. It
came out of Morrie's grasp.
He lunged toward me. I threw him back with a punch aimed at his chin,
landing on his chest instead. He crouched to attack and I threw the
pipe at him. Once more I didn't figure on the ten per cent gravity. The
pipe went over his head and crashed into the bulkhead at the other end
of the ship.
He sprang and I caught him. We stood with our magnetized shoes anchored
to the floor, swinging, ducking, punching, each now angry enough to
kill. We were about evenly matched as far as muscles and weight were
concerned, but Morrie was showing the strength of a maniac. My punch
staggered him but did no real damage. He came back and feinted. I
suckered and he brought two punches against my chin and belly that sent
me to the floor. Only the fact that I rolled with the punches kept
me from being kayoed. He tried to dive on me, but I scrambled out of
the way. We were both beginning to show some signs of damage. I had a
soreness in the belly where he'd landed his blow, and his cheek had
been cut by my knuckles. He dived at me again. I scored on his chin but
he managed to get me in a clinch.
We wrestled, partly on the floor, partly floating near the garden trays
and the cable housing in the center of the compartment. Suddenly he
grasped my shoulders and brought up his knee.
It caught me in the groin and I screamed with pain.
Somehow I caught one of the trays and hurled myself out of reach, but
as I hit the floor I could hardly move. All the fight left me with that
blow. Somewhere, I heard Gail calling: "Bill! Get up!"
It was no use. I couldn't move my arms or legs.
Morrie hesitated a moment. Then, deciding that I was helpless, he
pushed himself to the bulkhead where the length of pipe lay. He meant
to use it in an attempt to beat me to death. He reached the weapon,
picked it up and held it a moment in his hand as he turned a savage
look toward me.
He came toward me, certain that I was no longer able to defend myself.
I rolled away, the pain nearly killing me. Then I wrapped my legs
around his and tripped him, in spite of the pain in my groin. He
dropped the pipe as he fell.
Holding him tightly with a scissors grip, I lay there, inhaling deeply,
trying to rid my body of pain. Morrie turned and twisted, trying to
break free. With each movement he was sliding, until finally he was
free.
I rolled over and got to my knees, waiting for his next rush. I needed
all the time I could get to regain my strength. Knowing this, Morrie
wasted no time. He got ready to leap again.
Then I saw Gail. She had picked up the pipe Morrie had dropped. She
moved toward him, holding it high, ready to strike. My eyes, watching
her, gave her away. Morrie saw my glance and turned just as she was
ready to strike. He warded off the blow with his left arm, just as I'd
done early in the fight, then he swung hard with his right. The punch
landed solidly on Gail's jaw. She gave a startled moan of pain as she
went down to the floor.
That did more than all the resting in the world for me. The pain seemed
to leave my body for a moment. At least I didn't feel it any more. All
that was left was a desire to pound Morrie Grover into a shapeless pulp
because he had struck Gail with his fist. I hit him like a truck.
He went down and I fell on top of him. Holding him with my knees on his
stomach I punched his face, his nose, his mouth, his jaw. Left, right.
Left, right. One, two and again one, two. Morrie's head lolled with the
punches and he was out. And then my strength left me. I fell over his
unconscious body in a faint.
* * * * *
The darkness seemed to float away as I felt a cooling moisture on my
face. I opened my eyes and saw Gail bending over me. Her clothing was
in so many rags she looked naked. She had taken a strip of torn cloth,
moistened it under the leaking water purifier, and was bathing my
battered face.
I turned my head and saw Axel and Dr. Spartan coming through the
bulkhead door.
"What in the devil happened here?" Spartan snarled.
"Grover," said Gail, nodding toward Morrie, who was trying to lift
himself off the floor.
"He's hurt!" said Axel.
"Attend to him," said Spartan. Then he turned to Gail. "And Drake? Were
they fighting? Over you?"
Gail stopped bathing my face. She began to sob. I sat up straight now.
"Stop tormenting her!" I said, my anger rising to choke me.
"Sir!" said Spartan. He always insisted we call him _sir_. Now that bit
of rank pulling seemed more important to him than ever. His eyes showed
steel-hard determination to force me into submission; his lips were
tight with hatred.
"I said 'Stop tormenting her!' and I didn't say _sir_!" I shouted.
"Morrie tried to rape her. Can't you figure that out?"
"Sir!" Spartan snapped. "And how do I know you weren't the one who
tried it?"
"Because, damn you, _SIR_, I'm her husband!"
Spartan's face flushed angrily. "That's no way to talk to your superior
officer!" he snapped. "For this impertinence--"
He stopped in the middle of pronouncing sentence as his eyes fell on
the water-purifying apparatus.
"You've wrecked it!" he shouted and sprang to examine it.
Axel was holding Morrie upright now and Gail resumed bathing my bruised
face with refreshing water. "Let me have some of that water," said
Axel, ripping out a torn piece of Morrie's T-shirt.
Spartan swung around. "Stop wasting that water!" he roared. "Do
you realize we're dangerously short of water as a result of this
foolishness?"
Gail continued to bathe my face with the damp cloth.
"Stop it!" thundered Spartan.
"Bill's hurt," she replied calmly.
"By his own idiocy."
"Idiocy!" Gail stood up and faced Spartan. "If there's an idiot aboard
this ship, it's you--you interplanetary Captain Bligh!"
Spartan didn't move a muscle. His face was frozen into a mask of
contempt and resentment. "Miss Loring," he said, "just because you are
a woman gives you no special privileges. I'm the captain of this ship,
and I _must_ be treated with respect."
"Why don't you do something to earn respect then?" she demanded,
looking as though she might burst into tears at any moment.
"Ten days extra duty for you, Miss Loring," he said. He turned and went
to the bulkhead door. When he reached it, he turned to Axel. "As soon
as these men are able, bring them into the main cabin. We'll hold the
court-martial there."
He disappeared through the door. Axel got up and went over to the water
purifier. He spent three or four minutes examining it. When he finished
he looked very grim.
"Two of the four units are wrecked," he said. "We may be on half
rations of water for the next two years."
* * * * *
When Morrie and I were able to get on our feet, we went into the
main cabin, where Spartan was arranging Morrie's spacesuit beside
his sleeping bag. He gave us a frowning glance and beckoned to Axel,
who went to where he was standing. They talked for a few minutes,
discussing the damage to our water system. Only Joel was absent, being
in the control room.
Finally Spartan turned to the rest of us. "Sit down," he said.
He waited until we had arranged ourselves in front of him, Axel, Gail
and I sitting cross-legged on the floor behind Morrie, who reclined on
his elbows facing Spartan.
"Mr. Ludson has just told me that our water-cycling equipment is badly
damaged," Spartan said, seating himself. "Therefore, we will have to
use less water, unless we can make repairs. The present outlook is very
bad. The cycling units can now distill only half the amount we have
been using.
"We can't cut down on the amount of water we use to irrigate our
garden. And we can't prepare meals without water because we have
to depend on dehydrated food. So we'll have to use less water for
drinking, washing and laundry."
"Good heavens, Dr. Spartan! We can't live in filth!" said Gail.
"Perhaps not," said Spartan, "but when we wash, or do laundry, that
water must come from our drinking supply. That will force us to hold
unnecessary cleanliness to a minimum."
It was obvious that we would be the dirtiest group of spacemen who ever
made an interplanetary voyage.
"In addition," Spartan went on, "No. Five motor is not functioning
because it was hit by a meteor. We have yet to determine how badly it
is damaged, but since it is important that we have that extra margin
of safety, we must make every attempt to repair it. And if that isn't
enough trouble for us, two of our crew have engaged in a disgraceful
brawl."
"It was _not_ a brawl!" said Gail.
"Miss Loring, I've warned you. I will increase your punishment if you
continue with these remarks. I've called you together here to hold a
court-martial to decide where to fix the blame for the damage to the
water machinery. Now, Miss Loring, if you want to talk, you can tell me
what happened."
Gail, who had found time to put on another uniform, bowed her head.
"It is very embarrassing, Dr. Spartan--"
"It is necessary," said Spartan.
Gail hesitated, collecting her thoughts. "When the meteor alarm was
given I went to my station in the machinery room, which is nearest my
quarters in the rear cupola of the ship--"
"We all know that. It is unnecessary to give these details," said
Spartan.
"After you gave the all-clear signal, Morrie--Mr. Grover--who had been
in the kitchen, came in through the bulkhead and asked me if I was all
right. After I told him I was, he broke down and began to cry. I felt
sorry for him and went over and put my arm on his shoulders to cheer
him up."
"Are you sure, Miss Loring, that was the only reason you put your arm
around him?" Spartan asked.
"I did _not_ put my arm around him, Doctor," Gail said succinctly. "Mr.
Grover apparently had been under tremendous strain. As you know, he's
the youngest member of the crew."
"He's old enough to have mature emotions."
"He has shown that his emotions are definitely _not_ mature," Gail
replied. "As I said before, I tried to cheer him up, but he--like other
people I could name--put a different interpretation on an innocent
gesture. He threw his arms around me and kissed me. He said some
wild things about being in love with me. I tried to push him away,
explaining that I was a married woman--"
"We all understand about that marriage," Morrie broke in.
"Nevertheless, I made promises at that ceremony and I intend to keep
them until Bill Drake is no longer my husband," she replied. "I thought
Morrie was out of his head. Then, before I knew it, he began to tear
off my clothing. I tried to struggle but he held me so tightly I
couldn't. Then Bill Drake appeared. He threw Mr. Grover across the
room, and Morrie tore a piece of pipe from the condenser and they--they
fought."
"Then it was Drake who threw Grover into the machinery?" Spartan asked.
"Yes," replied Gail. "But it wasn't intentional."
"It may not have been intentional!" Spartan snarled, "but it has
endangered the success of this expedition."
"Morrie also knocked Bill Drake into the machinery," she said. She was
calling Morrie by a single name and me by my full name. Suddenly I
sensed that in using my complete name she was not being formal. On the
contrary, she had turned it into a term of endearment. It was as if she
savored the full name, rather than any kind of abbreviation.
"Humph! And are you sure you never, at any time, encouraged Mr. Grover
to make these--uh--advances?"
"Of course not!"
Spartan turned to Morrie. "What do you have to say?" It was obvious
that he hoped Morrie could successfully refute the story told by Gail.
Morrie shrugged, his whole manner noncommittal.
"I want an answer," said Spartan. "Is she telling the truth?" He was
driving for the answer he wanted.
Morrie breathed deeply. "What is the truth, Dr. Spartan?" he asked.
"Surely you know the truth." An incredulous look sprang to his face.
"Don't act so damned dogmatic. The truth can be a dozen different
things. Right now I don't know what's real and what isn't. Nothing
is the same out here as it was on the earth. Everything familiar is
millions of miles away. Even the earth looks like a star in the sky and
it takes a telescope to see the moon. Stars whirl like a merry-go-round
and the sun is smaller and has a corona, which we never see at home
except during an eclipse. We travel in something different from any
vehicle ever dreamed of, powered by something nothing else runs by. We
don't wear clothes, we wear gym suits. Our meals are dehydrated food
and hybrid vegetables. And our drinking water is distilled from urine!
We have centrifugal force for gravity and we even have a marriage that
isn't real."
"The rest of us have adjusted ourselves to these conditions," said
Spartan sternly, obviously disappointed at the turn the conversation
had taken.
"Do you really think so?" Morrie asked. "I'm not so sure. We're living
under conditions that are decidedly upsetting. It wouldn't take much
to push any of us over the edge into a psychosis. Nothing is real, not
even our thoughts, because our world is totally different."