Fantastic Stories Present the Galaxy Science Fiction Super Pack #1. Edgar Pangborn

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СКАЧАТЬ our noses for us if we caught cold. But some day, Chap old man, you’re gonna find out that your little boys can watch out for themselves!”

      But he checked his suit for leaks and tested the valve of his tank before he left.

      Only Klein and Chapman were left in the bunker. Klein was at the work table, carefully labeling some lichen specimens.

      “I never knew you were married,” Chapman said.

      Klein didn’t look up. “There wasn’t much sense in talking about it. You just get to thinking and wanting—and there’s nothing you can do about it. You talk about it and it just makes it worse.”

      “She let you go without any fuss, huh?”

      “No, she didn’t make any fuss. But I don’t think she liked to see me go, either.” He laughed a little. “At least I hope she didn’t.”

      *

      They were silent for a while. “What do you miss most, Chap?” Klein asked. “Oh, I know what we said a little while ago, but I mean seriously.”

      Chapman thought a minute. “I think I miss the sky,” he said quietly. “The blue sky and the green grass and trees with leaves on them that turn color in the Fall. I think, when I go back, that I’d like to go out in a rain storm and strip and feel the rain on my skin.”

      He stopped, feeling embarrassed. Klein’s expression was encouraging. “And then I think I’d like to go downtown and just watch the shoppers on the sidewalks. Or maybe go to a burlesque house and smell the cheap perfume and the popcorn and the people sweating in the dark.”

      He studied his hands. “I think what I miss most is people—all kinds of people. Bad people and good people and fat people and thin people, and people I can’t understand. People who wouldn’t know an atom from an artichoke. And people who wouldn’t give a damn. We’re a quarter of a million miles from nowhere, Julius, and to make it literary, I think I miss my fellow man more than anything.”

      “Got a girl back home?” Klein asked almost casually.

      “Yes.”

      “You’re not like Dahl. You’ve never mentioned it.”

      “Same reason you didn’t mention your wife. You get to thinking about it.”

      Klein flipped the lid on the specimen box. “Going to get married when you get back?”

      Chapman was at the port again, staring out at the bleak landscape. “We hope to.”

      “Settle down in a small cottage and raise lots of little Chapmans, eh?”

      Chapman nodded.

      “That’s the only future,” Klein said.

      He put away the box and came over to the port. Chapman moved over so they both could look out.

      “Chap.” Klein hesitated a moment. “What happened to Dixon?”

      “He died,” Chapman said. “He was a good kid, all wrapped up in science. Being on the Moon was the opportunity of a lifetime. He thought so much about it that he forgot a lot of little things—like how to stay alive. The day before the Second group came, he went out to finish some work he was interested in. He forgot to check for leaks and whether or not the valve on his tank was all the way closed. We couldn’t get to him in time.”

      “He had his walkie-talkie with him?”

      “Yes. It worked fine, too. We heard everything that went through his mind at the end.”

      Klein’s face was blank. “What’s your real job here, Chap? Why does somebody have to stay for stopover?”

      “Hell, lots of reasons, Julius. You can’t get a whole relief crew and let them take over cold. They have to know where you left off. They have to know where things are, how things work, what to watch out for. And then, because you’ve been here a year and a half and know the ropes, you have to watch them to see that they stay alive in spite of themselves. The Moon’s a new environment and you have to learn how to live in it. There’s a lot of things to learn—and some people just never learn.”

      “You’re nursemaid, then.”

      “I suppose you could call it that.”

      *

      Klein said, “You’re not a scientist, are you?”

      “No, you should know that. I came as the pilot of the first ship. We made the bunker out of parts of the ship so there wasn’t anything to go back on. I’m a good mechanic and I made myself useful with the machinery. When it occurred to us that somebody was going to have to stay over, I volunteered. I thought the others were so important that it was better they should take their samples and data back to Earth when the first relief ship came.”

      “You wouldn’t do it again, though, would you?”

      “No, I wouldn’t.”

      “Do you think Dahl will do as good a job as you’ve done here?”

      Chapman frowned. “Frankly, I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t believe I care. I’ve put in my time; it’s somebody else’s turn now. He volunteered for it. I think I was fair in explaining all about the job when you talked it over among yourselves.”

      “You did, but I don’t think Dahl’s the man for it. He’s too young, too much of a kid. He volunteered because he thought it made him look like a hero. He doesn’t have the judgment that an older man would have. That you have.”

      Chapman turned slowly around and faced Klein.

      “I’m not the indispensable man,” he said slowly, “and even if I was, it wouldn’t make any difference to me. I’m sorry if Dahl is young. So was I. I’ve lost three years up here. And I don’t intend to lose any more.”

      Klein held up his hands. “Look, Chap, I didn’t mean you should stay. I know how much you hate it and the time you put in up here. It’s just—” His voice trailed away. “It’s just that I think it’s such a damn important job.”

      Klein had gone out in a last search for rock lichens and Chapman enjoyed one of his relatively few moments of privacy. He wandered over to his bunk and opened his barracks bag. He checked the underwear and his toothbrush and shaving kit for maybe the hundredth time and pushed the clothing down farther in the canvas. It was foolish because the bag was already packed and had been for a week. He remembered stalling it off for as long as he could and then the quiet satisfaction about a week before, when he had opened his small gear locker and transferred its meager belongings to the bag.

      He hadn’t actually needed to pack, of course. In less than twenty-four hours he’d be back on Earth where he could drown himself in toothpaste and buy more tee shirts than he could wear in a lifetime. He could leave behind his shorts and socks and the outsize shirts he had inherited from—who was it? Driesbach?—of the First group. Dahl could probably use them or maybe one of the boys in the Third.

      *

      But it wasn’t like going home unless you packed. It was СКАЧАТЬ