Jack of No Trades Part 5

The s.h.i.+p was still unaccountably out of control. The plotted course showed that it would intercept Mars. And a map of Mars showed precisely where the s.h.i.+p would strike the surface.

Of all the barren areas on Mars where the s.h.i.+p could strike and do a little less surface damage, it was headed instead straight for the only densely populated, industrial area.

I looked at Goil and saw that his morale could be trod on. He probably already had computed his own monetary loss as well as the company losses. But he wasn't saying a word. He was keeping his misery to himself.

Let him stew until morning, I thought. By then he should be ripe for the little package I was planning to hand him.

By morning, the confidence that I had the night before had pretty much dissipated. Nevertheless, I followed Goil from the dining hall to his quarters, giving him only time to complete any personal necessities before knocking on his door.

Some of my confidence returned when I entered the room. He looked as if he hadn't slept any at all. The impending doom of his Mars holdings had apparently dwelt with him most intimately the past night.

Goil said, "What's on your mind, Mr. Weston?"

"I had a talk with w.i.l.l.y last night. He wants to tell you everything."

Goil brightened slightly. "Fine," he said.

"I've taken the liberty of asking him to come here," I said.

Goil nodded.

This was a good chance for me to needle him a little more, so I said, "The news reports are not good this morning. That freighter will have to be abandoned sometime this evening if they don't get it off the course it's on now."

Goil dimmed again. He said, "I heard the news."

"There is no way they can jettison that cargo either. Strange, isn't it. Of all the other points in and around s.p.a.ce, that s.h.i.+p has got to pick Mars to smack into, and the only densely populated part of Mars at that. Fate, I guess."

"Not so strange," said Goil. "It was enroute to Mars."

"Sure," I said, "but a course usually includes a series of corrections for a haul like that."

Goil said, "No navigator-computer combination is good enough to plan a one-shot course like that. It's just an unfortunate coincidence that the industrial area is to be hit."

And those last words were just what I wanted to hear from him.

w.i.l.l.y knocked on the door and entered at Goil's request. w.i.l.l.y's face was long, and the few steps that carried him into the room seemed to draw on his last reserves of energy. He seemed a little grateful when Goil bade him be seated.

Goil said, "All right, w.i.l.l.y. Sam says you have something to tell me."

"Yes, sir," w.i.l.l.y said dolefully, s.h.i.+fting his gaze so that he did not have to look directly at Goil or me. He hesitated for moments, then when the silence was too thick, he continued.

"I--I took that generator and that energizer as I told you yesterday."

Again he paused, patently dreading what more he had to say.

"What did you do with such monstrous, expensive pieces of equipment?"

asked Goil. "Of what possible use could they be to you, especially out here in s.p.a.ce?"

"w.i.l.l.y," I said, "why don't you start right at the beginning so Mr.

Goil can get a complete picture?"

w.i.l.l.y looked behind and around me, gulped a couple of times, then started.

"OK. Well, Martha's birthday--Martha is my wife, Mr. Goil--her birthday is in a few days. And I missed her last birthday and she never forgave me for that. And I almost missed this one too, except I got an idea. And that was after reading about those private satellites a lot of the rich people have going around Earth.

"It was too late for me to send any sort of a birthday present to Martha; besides, what could I get her out here? Anyway, I got the idea that what a wonderful birthday present it would be if I could get Martha a private satellite. Not one of those prefabricated ones, but a natural, real one. The more I thought about it the better the idea sounded. Then I realized that I had everything here; a million asteroids to choose from, and I could slip one of the gravity generators in the middle of it. And I could hitch the drive from the smashed tug to it, and install a sub-s.p.a.ce energizer. Except for an atmosphere generator it would be equipped enough for a start. I could finish equipping it later. So I got an asteroid and took a sub-s.p.a.ce energizer and a gravity generator from supply--they are expendable--and got the drive off the wrecked tug. I installed them on the rock."

w.i.l.l.y ended his story abruptly.

Goil sat looking intently at w.i.l.l.y and drumming his fingers on the desk top. Finally he said:

"We can recover those major items. Maybe it'll go easier with you, w.i.l.l.y. If you can show us where this rock is--"

w.i.l.l.y hung his head again. And the silence became solid. Finally w.i.l.l.y squeaked out:

"I can't. I sent it off yesterday."

"Just how and when did you determine the rock should be sent?" asked Goil.

"I--I got a course tape," said w.i.l.l.y. I could almost feel his sense of guilt as he virtually implicated one more of his friends.

"Don't you know," said Goil in an all-too-quiet, ominous voice, "that a jury-rigged contraption like that could never get near Earth with only a one-time course like that plotted for it? That it takes precise computations to get something like that to a destination? _With_ a human navigator? Just how did you figure you could do it? I'm curious."

"Well," said w.i.l.l.y warming up to the subject a little, "I rigged up a timing unit. When it left here, it was on the taped course for Earth.

Then it went into sub-s.p.a.ce. From the computations I got, I set another timer that will kick it back into normal s.p.a.ce at the right time, and in an orbit around Earth."

The room was silent for a time. Finally the silence exploded with:

"You d.a.m.ned fool! You dangerous idiot! You've got just enough knowledge to be able to do something like that, but not enough sense to know it is hopeless and idiotic! I've heard enough. Now, get out of here!"

w.i.l.l.y got out in a stumbling hurry.

I stayed. Goil tried to glare me out of the room, but I would have none of it. I was now ready to go into action. I was by no means certain I would be right, but already deep in this mess, what more could I lose by plunging?

With a lot more bravado than I really felt, I plunked down on Goil's desk top a stack of sheets, a chart, and tapes. Then I put both palms down on his desk and leaned over until I looked him squarely in the face. I said:

"Do you know what is going to happen to that rock of w.i.l.l.y's, Mr.

Goil? It's going to come out of sub-s.p.a.ce right smack in the path of that freighter. It's going to knock that freighter right off course."

Of course, it sounded like a fantasy, and if I had been in Goil's place, I would have thought it so. But Goil had been worrying over the impending loss of his interests, and even the fantastic was something to clutch at for the moment.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I nodded to the stuff I had tossed on his desk. "Look at those. The chart particularly. I got the course plotted by Artie Jones. I checked the path and timing of both w.i.l.l.y's asteroid and the freighter.