Transcriber's note.
This etext was produced from Analog December 1962.Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
Blind Man's Lantern
Successful colonies among the stars require interstellar ships—butthey require, also, a very special kind of man. A kind you mightnot think to look for....
by
Allen Kim Lang
Illustrated by Schelling
Walking home in the dark from an eveningspent in mischief, a young man spied coming toward him down theroad a person with a lamp. When the wayfarers drew abreast, theplay-boy saw that the other traveler was the Blind Man from hisvillage. "Blind Man," the youngster shouted across the road, "whata fool you be! Why, old No-Eyes, do you bear a lantern, you whosemidnight is no darker than his noonday?" The Blind Man lifted hislamp. "It is not as a light for myself that I carry this, Boy," hesaid, "it is to warn off you fools with eyes."
—Hausa proverb
The Captain shook hands with the black-hatted Amishman while the womanstood aside, not concerning herself with men's business. "It's been apleasure to have you and Fraa Stoltzfoos aboard, Aaron," the Captainsaid. "Ship's stores are yours, my friend; if there's anything you need,take it and welcome. You're a long way from the corner grocery."
"My Martha and I have all that's needful," Aaron Stoltzfoos said. "Wehave our plow, our seed, our land. Captain, please tell your men, whotreated us strangers as honored guests, we thank them from our hearts.We'll not soon forget their kindness."
"I'll tell them," the Captain promised. Stoltzfoos hoisted himself tothe wagon seat and reached a hand down to boost his wife up beside him.Martha Stoltzfoos sat, blushing a bit for having displayed an accidentalinch of black stocking before the ship's officers. She smoothed down herblack skirts and apron, patted the candle-snuffer Kapp into place overher prayer-covering, and tucked the wool cape around her arms andshoulders. The world outside, her husband said, was a cold one.
Now in the Stoltzfoos wagon was the final lot of homestead goods withwhich these two Amishers would battle the world of Murna. There was theplow and bags of seed, two crates of nervous chickens; a huge, roundtabletop; an alcohol-burning laboratory incubator, bottles ofagar-powder, and a pressure cooker that could can vegetables as readilyas it could autoclave culture-media. There was a microscope designed towork by lamplight, as the worldly vanity of electric light would illsuit an Old Order bacteriologist like Martha Stoltzfoos. Walled in byall this gear was another passenger due to debark on Murna, snufflingand grunting with impatience. "Sei schtill, Wutzchen," Stoltzfooscrooned. "You'll be in your home pen soon enough."
The Captain raised his hand. The Engineer punched a button to tongue thelanding ramp out to Murnan earth. Cold air rammed in from the outsidewinter. The four horses stomped their hoofs on the floor-plates, theirbreath spikes of steam. Wutzchen squealed dismay as the chill hit