Citizen in Spase. Stories / Гражданин в Космосе. Рассказы. Книга для чтения на английском языке

Agee was crouched in the pilot’s compartment, wearily marking switches with an indelible pencil. His lungs ached and he had been working all night. Now there was a bleak gray dawn outside and a chill wind was whipping around Endeavor II. The spaceship was lighted but cold, for Agee didn’t want to touch the temperature controls.

Victor came into the crew room, staggering under the weight of a heavy packing case.

“Barnett?” Agee called out. “He’s coming,” Victor said.

The captain wanted all their equipment up front, where they could get at it quickly. But the crew room was small and he had used most of the available space.

Looking around for a spot to put the case, Victor noticed a door in one wall. He pressed its stud and the door slid smartly into the ceiling, revealing a room the size of a closet. Victor decided it would make an ideal storage space.

Ignoring the crushed red shells on the floor, he slid the case inside.

Immediately, the ceiling of the little room began to descend.

Victor let out a yell that could be heard throughout the ship. He leaped up – and slammed his head against the ceiling. He fell on his face, stunned.

Agee rushed out of the pilot’s compartment and Barnett sprinted into the room. Barnett grabbed Victor’s legs and tried to drag him out, but Victor was heavy and the captain was unable to get a purchase on the smooth metal floor.

With rare presence of mind, Agee up-ended the packing case. The ceiling was momentarily stopped by it.

Together, Barnett and Agee tugged at Victor’s legs. They managed to drag him out just in time. The heavy case splintered and, in another moment, was crushed like a piece of balsa wood.

The ceiling of the little room, descending on a greased shaft, compressed the packing case to a six-inch thickness. Then its gears clicked and it slid back into place without a sound.

Victor sat up and rubbed his head. “Captain,” he said plaintively, “can’t we get our own ship back?”

Agee was doubtful of the venture, too. He looked at the deadly little room, which again resembled a closet with crushed red shells on the floor.

“Sure seems like a jinx ship,” he said worriedly. “Maybe Victor’s right.”

“You want to give her up?” Barnett asked.

Agee squirmed uncomfortably and nodded. “Trouble is,” he said, not looking at Barrett, “we don’t know what she’ll do next. It’s just too risky, Captain.”

“Do you realize what you’d be giving up?” Barnett challenged. “Her hull alone is worth a fortune. Have you looked at her engines? There’s nothing this side of Earth that could stop her. She could drill her way through a planet and come out the other side with all her paint on. And you want to give her up!”

“She won’t be worth much if she kills us,” Agee objected.

Victor nodded emphatically. Barnett stared at them.

“Now listen to me carefully,” Barnett said. “We are not going to give up this ship. She is not jinxed. She’s alien and filled with alien apparatus. All we have to do is keep our hands off things until we reach drydock. Understand?”

Agee wanted to say something about closets that turned into hydraulic presses. It didn’t seem to him a promising sign for the future. But, looking at Barnett’s face, he decided against it.

“Have you marked all the operating controls?” Barnett asked.

“Just a few more to go,” Agee said.

“Right. Finish up and those are the only ones we’ll touch. If we leave the rest of the ship alone, she’ll leave us alone. There’s no danger if we just keep hands off.”

Barnett wiped perspiration from his face, leaned against a wall and unbuttoned his coat.

Immediately, two metal hands slid out of openings on either side of him and circled his waist and stomach.

Barnett stared at them for a moment, then threw himself forward with all his strength. The hands didn’t give. There was a peculiar clicking sound in the walls and a slender wire filament slid out. It touched Barnett’s coat appraisingly, then retreated into the wall.

Agee and Victor stared helplessly.

“Turn it off,” Barnett said tensely.

Agee rushed into the control room. Victor continued staring. Out of the wall slid a metal limb, tipped with a glittering three-inch blade.

“Stop it!” Barnett screamed.

Victor unfroze. He ran up and tried to wrench the metal limb out of the wall. It twisted once and sent him reeling across the room.

With the precision of a surgeon, the knife slit Barnett’s coat down the middle, not touching the shirt underneath. Then the limb slid out of sight.

Agee was punching controls now and the generators whined, the locks opened and closed, stabilizers twitched, lights flickered. The mechanism that held Barnett was unaffected.

The slender filament returned. It touched Barnett’s shirt and paused an instant. The internal mechanism chittered alarmingly. The filament touched Barnett’s shirt again, as if unsure of its function in this case.

Agee shouted from the control room, “I can’t turn it off! It must be fully automatic!”

The filament slid into the wall. It disappeared and the knife-tipped limb slid out.