A. Van Vogt - Rogue Ship.pdf - A. E. Van Vogt - borsukomiks

Rogue Ship

By A. E. Van Vogt

Granada Publishing Limited

Published in 1975 by Panther Books Ltd

Frogmore, St Albans, Herts AL2 2NF

First published in Great Britain by Dobson Books Ltd 1967

'Centaurus II' was originally published in Astounding Science Fiction (now ANALOG Science Fact –

Science Fiction), 'Rogue Ship' was originally published in Super-Science Stories, and 'The Expendables'

was originally published in IF Worlds of Science Fiction, 1947, 1950, and

1963, respectively. All three of these stories have been completely rewritten into this 'novel' form.

Made and printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay (The Chaucer Press) Ltd

Bungay, Suffolk

Set in Linotype Plantin

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold,

hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any

form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar

condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

This book is published at a net price and is supplied subject to the Publishers Association

Standard Conditions of Sale registered under the Restrictive Trade Practices Act, 1956.

DEDICATION

For Ford McCormack, friend, logician, technical expert, man of many parts, who seems to be as much

at home in the exotic universe of translight speeds as on the stage of important little theaters - to whom I

am indebted for some of the concepts and for nearly all of what is scientifically exact in this fantastic

story.

Out of the corner of one eye, young Lesbee saw Ganarette climbing the steps that led to the spaceship's

bridge. He felt vaguely annoyed. Ganarette, at nineteen, was a big, husky youth with a square jaw and

belligerent manner. Like Lesbee himself, he had been born on the ship. As a non-officer, he was not

allowed on the bridge and it was that, entirely aside from his own personal dislike of Ganarette, that

annoyed Lesbee about the intrusion.

Besides, he was scheduled to go off duty in five minutes.

Ganarette mounted the final step, and climbed gingerly down to the cushiony floor. He must have been

intent on his descent, for when he looked up and saw the black, starry heavens, he gasped and then

stood teetering a dozen feet from Lesbee, staring into the darkness. His reaction startled Lesbee. It

hadn't struck him before, but there were actually people on this ship whose only view of space had been

by way of the visiscreen.

The sheer, stark reality of the plastiglass bridge, with its effect of standing there in the dark, empty space

itself, must be mind-staggering. Lesbee had a vague feeling of superiority. He had been allowed on the

bridge since early childhood.

To him, what was out there seemed as natural and ordinary as the ship itself.

He saw that Ganarette was recovering from his initial shock. 'So,' Ganarette said, 'this is what it's really

like. Which is Centaurus?'

Stiffly, Lesbee pointed out the very bright star which was visible beyond the sight lines of the astrogation

devices. Since nonmilitary personnel were never permitted on the bridge, he wondered if he were

obligated to report the youth's intrusion.

He felt reluctant to do so, first of all because it might antagonize the other young people aboard. As the

captain's son, be was already being treated as a person set apart. If he defi-nitely aligned himself with the

ship authority, he might find himself even more cut off.

He had a sudden mental picture of himself repeating his father's lonely existence.

He shook his head ever so slightly, silently rejecting that way of life.

In a few minutes his period of duty for the day would be over. At that point he would lead Ganarette

gently but firmly down the steps and give him as friendly a warning as possible. He saw that the youth

was looking at him with a faint, cynical smile.

'Doesn't look very close. Boy, they sure pulled a trick on the colonists, pretending the ship was going to

make the trip at the speed of light or faster and get there in four years.' Ganarette's tone was sarcastic.

'Nine more years,' Lesbee said, 'and we'll be there.'

'Yeah!' Cynically. "That I have to see.' He broke off. 'And which is Earth?'

Lesbee led him to the other side of the bridge to a sighting device that was always aimed at Earth's sun.

The pale star held Ganarette's interest for nearly a minute. His face changed; gloom was written there.

He slumped a little, then whispered, 'It's so far away, so very far away. If we started back now, you and

I would be forty years old when we got there.'

He whirled and firmly grasped Lesbee's shoulders. Think of it!' he said. 'Forty years old. Half of our

lifetime gone, but still a chance to have a little fun - if we turned back this instant.'

Lesbee freed himself from the clamping fingers. He was disturbed. It was more than a year since he had

heard that kind of talk from any of the younger folk. Ever since his father initiated the lectures on the

importance of this, the second voyage to Alpha Centauri, the wilder spirits among the young people had

quieted down.

Ganarette seemed to realize that his action had been foolish.

He stepped back with a sheepish grin. Once more he became satiric. He said, 'But of course it would be

silly to turn back now when we're only nine years from Centaurus, a mere eighteen years farther from

Earth, there and return.'

Lesbee did not ask, return to what? Long ago, most of those aboard had ceased to regard the original

purpose of the voyage as having meaning. There was the sun, wasn't there, with no visible change? And

so there must be an Earth to return to. Lesbee knew that among the young people his father was

con-sidered to be an old fool who dared not go back to face the ridicule of his fellow scientists. The

pride of this foolish old man was continuing to force a shipload of people to spend the equivalent of a

normal lifetime in space. Lesbee had often felt the horror at such a prospect that Ganarette was now

express-ing, and he could not help but share some of the condemnation of his father.

Trembling, he looked at his watch. He was relieved to see that it was time to switch on the automatic

pilot. His duty period was over. He turned, manipulated the control switches, counted the lights that went

on, cross-checked with the two physicists in the engine room, and then, as he always did, made a second

count of the lights. They were still exactly right. For twelve hours now, electronic machinery would guide

the ship. Then Carson would assume the watch for six hours. The first officer would be followed, after

twelve more hours, by the second officer who, in turn, would be succeeded by Browne, the third officer.

And then, when still another twelve hours of automatic flight had gone by, it would be his turn again.

Such was the pattern of his life, and so it had been since his fourteenth birthday. It was certainly not a

hard existence. The ship's top officers actually had an easy time of it. But each man was jealous of his

duty stint, and always showed up on the dot. A few years ago, Browne had even had himself wheeled to

the upper deck in a wheelchair and then assisted to the bridge by his son, who had remained with his sick

father during the entire six hours.

Such devotion to duty puzzled young Lesbee, and so he had made one of his rare efforts to

communicate with his father, asking him what could have motivated Browne. The old man smiled at him

quizzically, and explained, 'Going on watch is the status symbol of every officer, so don't ever regard it

lightly. They don't, as Browne is demonstrating. We are the official ruling class, my boy. Treat all those

men with respect, use their formal titles, and in return they'll recognize your status. Whatever benefits

accrue to the nobility aboard this ship will depend on how well we maintain such amenities.'

Lesbee had already discovered that several of the benefits were that the prettiest girls smiled at him, and

came running when he smiled back.

Recalling the smiles of one girl in particular, he emerged from his reverie and realized that he would

barely have time to wash up before the movie started.

He grew aware that Ganarette was looking at the clock on the low-built control board. The young man

faced Lesbee. 'O.K., John,' he said, 'you might as well get it now. Five minutes after the motion picture

starts my group is taking over the ship. We intend to make you captain, but only on the condition that you

agree to turn back to Earth. We won't hurt any of the old fogies - if they behave. If they act up, there'll be

as much trouble as they want. If you try to warn anybody, we shall reconsider our plan to make you

captain.'

Ignoring Lesbee's dumbfounded reaction, he went on, 'Our problem is to make sure that we don't do

anything that might arouse suspicion. That means everybody, including you, should carry on as always.

What do you normally do when you leave the bridge?'

'I go to my quarters and wash up,' said Lesbee, truthfully.

He was beginning to recover from the enormous shock of the other man's pronouncement. He grew

aware that he was in a state of anguish, and that amazingly what he felt was an awful anxiety that 'these

fools' - he muttered the words under his breath - would somehow mess up their mutiny, and this mad

voyage would continue on into infinity. As he realized his in-stant sympathy with the rebels, Lesbee

swallowed, and ab-ruptly felt confused.

Before he could recover, Ganarette said reluctantly, 'All

right - but I'll go with you.'

'Maybe it'd be better if I skipped going home,' said Lesbee doubtfully.

'And have your father become suspicious! Nothing doing!'

Lesbee was uneasy. He was, he realized, falling in with the plot. He sensed unknown dangers in that

direction. Yet the emotion that had broken through from ahidden depth of his being, was still driving him

on. He said in a conspiratorial tone, 'That would be preferable to having him wonder what I'm doing with

you. He doesn't like you.'

'Oh, he doesn't!' Ganarette sounded belligerent, but sud-denly he looked unsure of himself. 'All right,

we'll go straight down to the theater. But remember what I said. Watch your-self. Be as surprised as the

others, but be prepared to step in and take command.'

He impulsively put his hand on Lesbee's arm. 'We've got to win,' he said. 'My God, we've got to.'

As they went down into the ship a minute later, Lesbee found that he was somehow tightening his

muscles, bracing himself as for a struggle.

Lesbee sank into his seat. As he sat there, he grew aware that all around him in the theater, people were

fumbling their way to their places. He had time for doubt, for second thought. If he was going to do

anything, he would have to act swiftly.

Ganarette, who had been in the aisle whispering to another young man, crushed into the seat beside him.

He leaned to-ward Lesbee. 'Only a few minutes now, as soon as everybody is in. When the doors close,

we'll let the lights go off and the picture get started. Then in the darkness I'll make my way to the stage.

The moment the lights go on, you join me.'

Lesbee nodded, but he was unhappy. Only a short time had gone by since the great rush of sympathy

for the rebellion, but now that feeling was fading, replaced by an uneasy fear of consequences. He had no

conscious picture of what might hap-pen. It was an overall and growing sense of doom.

A buzzer sounded. 'Ah,' whispered Ganarette, 'the picture is going to start.'

The time was passing inexorably. The internal pressure to act was strong in Lesbee. He had a terrible

conviction that he was ruining himself with the authority group aboard, and that on the other hand the

mutineers merely intended to use him during the early stages of their rebellion, that later he would be

discarded. Abruptly, he was convinced that he had nothing to gain by their victory.

In a sudden desperation, he stirred in his seat, and looked around tensely, wondering if he couldn't

escape.

He gave that up after one quick look. His eyes had ac-customed to the night of the theater and it wasn't

really dark at all. Over to one side he could see Third Officer Browne and his wife sitting together. The

older man caught his distracted gaze and nodded.

Lesbee grimaced an acknowledging smile, then turned away. Beside him, Ganarette said, 'Where's

Carson?'

It was Lesbee's seeking gaze that found First Officer Carson sitting near the back of the theater, and it

was he who located the second officer slumped down in one of the seats near the front. Of the senior

officers of the ship only Captain Lesbee himself had not yet arrived. That was a little disquieting but

Lesbee took assurance from the fact that the theater had its normal packed appearance.

Three times a 'week' there was a show. Three times a week the eight hundred people on the ship

gathered in this room and gazed silently at the scenes of far-off Earth that glided over the screen. Seldom

did anyone miss the show. His father would be along any minute.

Lesbee settled himself to the inevitability of what was about to happen. On the screen a light flickered,

and then there was a burble of music. A voice said something about an 'important trial,' and then there

were several panels of printed words and a list of technical experts. At that point Lesbee's mind and gaze

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