[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Comet May 41.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"There's nothing like having a good quart of scotch with you whenyou're falling into the sun," said Lejeune. "Won't you join me,gentlemen?"
"Listen to him," sputtered Geitz. "He's enjoying this. He likes beingcooked in a cubby-holed space ship; he likes to sit here day after daywhile the floor beneath him is burning his shoes."
Lejeune, the wiry French biologist, lowered the half-empty bottle fromhis lips and scowled at the ship's doctor. "But not for long, my dearGeitz, not for long. Our fate lies within a few hours. The ship will bedrawn closer and closer to the sun. The heat will become unbearable.Then—pffffft!—the ship will be a little spark—"
"You're a pain," growled Captain Rogers.
Lejeune raised his eyebrows quizzically and grinned. He said nothing,walked to a bunk, and sat down beside Lane, the pilot.
The silence continued for some time, broken only by the footfalls ofCaptain Rogers in his nervous pacing. There was nothing to do but wait.The four of them knew that. The ship couldn't hold out much longer; itwould burst under the terrific strain, would be reduced instantly to acinder by the sun's blistering heat.
They were trapped, falling into the sun inevitably.
"One meteorite," said Lejeune casually, "one hurtling fragment of someinterstellar gadabout which chose to cross our path at the wrong time.That's all it took to smash our jets and send the four of us towardthat fiery mass."
"Shut up!" snapped Rogers. "It's bad enough without your moaning!"
Oblivious to the captain's words, Lejeune patted his bottleaffectionately.
"In the name of heaven!" growled Geitz, leaping to his feet. "Why do wesit here like a lot of mummies? There's a rocket capsule aboard, yousay, with sufficient power to carry one of us to Mercury. Why don't weuse it? I ask you, Rogers."
"You answered that yourself," the captain said bluntly. "True,that rocket capsule can carry one of us to Mercury. Just one,understand—there's room for but one person in a capsule. I askyou—which one of us would that be?"
"That's beside the point," muttered Geitz, as he wiped beads ofperspiration from his forehead. "You don't seem to realize whatvaluable information we possess. Think of that cylinder in the supplyroom. It contains all the photographs we took of Mercurian plant andanimal life, and the photos of Vulcan. To say nothing of the dataconcerning the sun's corona—why, our analysis would be of infinitevalue to earth scientists!"
"Quite so," Rogers said crisply. "But while you're thinking aboutthat, don't forget the three men who would be left aboard thisship—think of what would happen to them." He stopped his pacing andshook a finger under the doctor's imposing Van Dyke. "Do you know whatwould happen to them, Geitz? They'd burn alive—they'd cook—while onearth your scientists would hop around in glee over a few photographsof Mercury!"
Geitz sat down heavily, exhausted.
"The doc's right, Rogers," Lane interposed. "There's no reason for allfour of us dying when it's possible for one to gain freedom. And forGod's sake if you're going to do something do it in a hurry! We'll burnbefore you make up your mind!"
"My mind's made up," Rogers retorted. "I'm staying. In case you'veforgotten, a captain is the last man to leave his ship. As for youthree, fight it out among yourselves. Draw straws—anything. Theconsequences will be your worry."
"I'll stay," murmured Lejeune, lifting his bottle to his lips.
"Yo