Disease contaminated their ship; any
moment one of them might become infected and
spray lethal sparks to the others. There was
no cure—except prevention. And that meant—
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
September 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Commander Al Andrews had closed and locked the energy-proof,neutralizing bulkheads against the creeping red glow that infectedone quadrant of his circular space ship. Now he stood in the ControlCenter, in the mid-section of the revolving wagon-wheel ship, lookingat Oakey Matthews.
There had been times aboard this ship when a whole crew had beencomfortable in months-long trips through space. But now there wereonly three men, three men fleeing from death and it was no longercomfortable here, because death was breathing down the neck of at leastone of them.
Oakey was intent on the instruments in front of him. Oakey was young,with a face that glowed with velvet skin. Even in space Oakey shavedevery day, shined his shoes and pressed his uniform. Al was sloppy,bearded and ungroomed. But Al had lived most of his 50 years in space.
Oakey looked up toward Al. His young eyes searched the hard leatheryface of his commander. He saw the grim set to Al's jaw and the hardlines around the older man's eyes. Al was cold. Nerveless as a piece ofrope.
"How's Joe?" Oakey asked.
Al shook his head. "Last stages," he said. The commander went to atier of built-in drawers across the room from the control panel. Hisarm reached out, pulled on the third drawer from the bottom. From thisdrawer he took an old-fashioned revolver and a box of shells. Notordinary shells. The bullets were plastic, strong enough to pierceflesh, too soft to rupture the walls of the space ship.
"Don't do it, Al," Oakey said, watching the commander.
Al shook his head. He slipped bullets into the cylinder.
"We're the last earthmen, let's not die killing each other," pleadedthe young man. "This thing will catch us all before long. Let's stopfighting it. Joe's our pal. Let him live."
"We're the last earthmen and we're going down fighting," said Al.
"We've fought. For ten years we've fought. Now we're in space, Al.So far from the sun we can't tell it from any other star. There's noearth women here. Even if we live a few years longer, the strain ofearth-blood dies with us. We're licked, Al. Let's surrender gracefully."
"We're earthmen," said Al. "We fight."
"The last earthmen. There's nothing left to fight for—"
"Except life," said Al. "Now listen, Oakey. I'm still commander. Iknow what I'm doing and you take orders from me—or it's mutiny. Yeah,I know the Quinnies have covered the earth. From the Arctic to thetropics men died shooting sparks like fireworks. But the earth isn'tthe only planet in the Galaxy where men exist. You didn't take thatfirst trip this ship made, did you, boy?"
Oakey laughed. "That was ten years ago. I was a kid in high schoolthen."
Al flipped the cylinder closed and made sure the gun was ready to use."We went to another system," he said. "A fluke, maybe. Or maybe the OldMan planned it. He believed in interstellar travel by dimensional shortcuts. I was third mate, like you. I fingered the controls and he gaveme the figures. Something like a double right-angle repeated twice.I was dizzy as hell when I finally put old Wagon Wheel on a straightcourse, but after I blinked my eyes a couple of times and looked outthrough a porthole, I knew that the Old Man was r