THE BIG LEAP
BY CHARLES E. FRITCH
The Moon is green cheese and the stars are eyes
and we're all fleas on a big space animal!
But don't let it worry you—unless you take
the first trip out into space—all alone!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, February 1955.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
It did not terrify Cantrell to know he was up so high and going sofast, going higher and faster than any human before him. He would be upeven higher the next day, he remembered, going so high and so fast hewould not come down again.
It would be a shame to leave Earth, he knew. There was security in herfirmness, with no great space underfoot through which to drop down,down, down. Up here there was emptiness all around. Emptiness and,except for the dull throb of the rocket engines, silence. Out there—helooked up—there would be a greater emptiness, a greater silence, aninfinity of nothingness in all directions.
He felt suddenly cold at the thought, and then shame swept over him,forcing the paralysis aside. Fear of the unknown again, he thoughtdistastefully. No matter how much the psychologists tried, theycould not erase that icy prickling sensation that came with itscontemplation. They were all children when it came to space, kidsfrightened by the dark alleys of the universe, fearing the bogey manthat waited lurking in the velvet depths through which no one hadpassed before. Probably they would find nothing out there to fear,nothing at all, and yet the feeling would go on and on, whenevermen had to face the unknown, whenever they had to force themselveswhistling past silent graveyards that contained only the fear of fear.
With swift precision he pressed studs on the control panel before him,and a bank of jets on the side of his rocket flared into sudden life,pushing, turning, pulsing flame into the thin air of the outside. Hisgyro-chair made an effortless compensation for the altered direction.The ship banked, leveled, then leaped forward on a new course. Cantrellsmiled. He could handle the ship now as though it were a part of him.On the big leap he expected no trouble.
Not so the planners, who refused to leave the minutest stone unturnedin their search for flaws in man or rocket. Physical checkups were madeas often as twice a day. Psychiatrists had analyzed him constantlyduring the past six months, probing for any hidden factors that mightmake a space flight futile, fearing perhaps a mental return to the wombfor a security that could not be found in untraveled space. We're allchildren when it comes to space, he reminded himself, and he laughedand wondered half-seriously if he were really as psychologically freeas he thought he was—excepting his animal allergy of course, which wasinsignificant. There were many facets of the human mind the clinicalinstruments of psychology could never hope to touch; the mind was likean iceberg, and the submerged nine-tenths could hold a great manyunfathomables hidden in the vast depths, subtle monstrosities waitingto spring out and claw at his sanity.
He smiled grimly, as he realized where his thoughts were leading him.To fear of the unknown again. Of course, it was only the intellectualcontemplation of it, but the mere thought disturbed him, and he beganto feel angry at himself for allowing the thoughts to exist at all.
Irritably he jabbed at the controls and felt the reassuring thruststhat drove him gently into the