NO MOVING PARTS By MURRAY F. YACO ILLUSTRATED by GRAYAM [Illustration: We call them trouble-shooters. They called 'em Gypsies. Either way, they were hep to that whole bit about.... ] Hansen was sitting at the control board in the single building onCommunications Relay Station 43. 4SC, when the emergency light flashedon for the first time in two hundred years. With textbook-recommended swiftness, he located the position of the shipsending the call, identified the ship and the name of its captain, andmade contact. "This is Hansen on 43. 4SC. Put me through to Captain Fromer. " "Fromer here, " said an incredible deep voice, "what the devil do you want?" "What do I want?" asked the astonished Hansen. "It was you, sir, who sentthe emergency call. " "I did no such thing, " said Fromer with great certainty. "But the light flashed--" "How long have you been out of school?" Fromer asked. "Almost a year, sir, but that doesn't change the fact that--" "That you're imagining things and that you've been sitting on that asteroidhoping that something would happen to break the monotony. Now leave me thehell alone or I'll put you on report. " "Now look here, " Hansen began, practically beside himself with frustration, "I saw that emergency light go on. Maybe it was activated automaticallywhen something went out of order on your ship. " "I don't allow emergencies on the Euclid Queen, " said Fromer with growinganger. "Now, if you don't--" Hansen spared himself the indignity of being cut off. He broke contacthimself. He sighed, reached for a book entitled _Emergency ProcedureRules_, and settled back in his chair. Fifteen minutes later the emergency light flashed on for the second time intwo hundred years. With its red glow illuminating his freckled excitedface, Hansen triumphantly placed another call to the Euclid Queen. "This is Hansen on 43. 4SC. Let me speak to Captain Fromer, please. " "Er--the Captain has asked me to contact you. I'm the navigator. I was justabout to call you. We have a small problem that--" "I'll speak to the Captain, " Hansen repeated grimly. "Now see here. I'm perfectly capable of handling this situation. Actually, it's hardly even an emergency. You were, it seems, signaled automaticallywhen--" "If you'll check your emergency procedures, " Hansen said, holding his thumbin the Rule Book, "you'll note that the Relay Station Attendant contactsthe Captain personally during all emergencies. Of course, if you want toviolate--" "Look, old man, " said the navigator, now sounding on the verge of tears, "try to realize the spot I'm in. Fromer has ordered me to handle this thingwithout his assistance. He seems to feel that you have a grudge of somekind--" "If you don't put me in touch with Captain Fromer in five minutes, I'll putthrough a call to Sector Headquarters. " Hansen signaled off contact. If heknew nothing else about the situation, he knew that he had the upper hand. * * * * * Five minutes later Captain Fromer called him back. "I am calling inaccordance with emergency procedures, " Fromer said between clinched teeth. "The situation is this: We are reporting an emergency--" "What class emergency?" Hansen interrupted. "Class?" asked Fromer, obviously caught off guard. "Yes, Captain. There are three classes of emergencies. Major class, whichwould include death and injury. Mechanical class, including malfunction ofHegler units and such. And General class--" "Yes, yes, of course, General class by all means, " Fromer said hurriedly. "You see, it's hardly even an emergency. We--" "Just what is the nature of the trouble, Captain?" "Why, uh, well it seems that we were doing a preliminary landing procedurecheck, and ... " "Yes, go on. " "Why, er, it seems that we can't get the door open. " It was Hansen's turn to be taken aback. "You're pulling my leg, sir. " "I most certainly am not, " Captain Fromer said emphatically. "You really mean that you can't open the door?" "I'm afraid so. Something's wrong with the mechanism. Our technical staffhas never encountered a problem like this, and they advise me that anyattempt at repair might possibly result in the opposite situation. " "You mean not being able to get the door closed?" "Precisely. In other words, we can't land. " "I see. Then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do except advise SectorHeadquarters to send an emergency repair crew. " Captain Fromer sighed. "I'm afraid so, too. How long will it take for amessage to get there with your transmitting equipment?" "Two days, Captain. At a guess, there'll be a ship alongside within theweek. You'll be maintaining your present position, I assume?" "Oh, we'll be here, all right, " Fromer said bitterly. Then he cut contact. * * * * * As the single occupant of a large asteroid with nothing but time andboredom on his hands, Hansen was enjoying the whole situation immensely. Heallowed himself the luxury of several dozen fantasies in which his name wasmentioned prominently in galaxy-wide reports of the episode. He imaginedthat Captain Fromer was also creating vivid accounts--of quite anothersort--that would soon be amusing several hundred billion news-hungrycitizens of the Federation. When the repair ship arrived, it came, to Hansen's astonishment, to theasteroid, and not alongside Fromer's ship. He soon found out that there wassomeone else who shared the Captain's embarrassment. "I'm Bullard, " said a tall, thin, mournful man. "Mind if I sit?" "Help yourself, " Hansen waved a hand toward the meager accommodations. Hehad no idea why a Senior Engineer was being so deferential, but he enjoyedthe feeling of power. "You're probably wondering about a lot of things, " Bullard began sadly. "Frankly, we don't have any ideas about how we can fix Captain Fromer'sdoor. " He waited to let that sink in. Then he continued: "It took us threedays back at the base to find out that when these ships were built, almostfive hundred years ago, nobody bothered to include detail drawings of thedoor mechanism. " "But why? You certainly know how to build--" "We know how to build Star Class ships, sure. We've built a few in thepast century or two. There's never been need for replacement, really. These ships are designed to last forever. The original fleet wasconceived to fill the System's needs for a full thousand years. " "But the doors on the few ships that have been built. How--" "The ship's we've built were exact duplicates of Captain Fromer'sship--except for the door. " Bullard's long face radiated despair. "Noone ever questioned why the door mechanism wasn't included in theoriginal plans. We simply designed another type--a different type--ofdoor. " "Well, you certainly can find out how this particular door works, can'tyou?" "I hope so, " Bullard said, wringing his hands. "But we have a couple ofother problems. Number one, Captain Fromer has an extremely importantpassenger aboard. None other than His Exalted Excellency, R'thagna Bar. He is--or was--on his way home after concluding a treaty of friendshipwith the President of the Federation. " Hansen managed a whistle. "Furthermore, " Bullard continued, "His Excellency _has to be home soon_ toget there in time for the mating season. This occurs once in a lifetime, I'm told, and this is his only chance to continue the ancestral rule--" "Wait a minute, " Hansen said. "Are you trying to say that you can't solve asimple problem like getting him home and getting him out of the ship? Youcan always cut it in two, can't you?" "These ships were made to last forever, " Bullard explained. "The hull is, of course, pseudo-met, but, not the kind of pseudo-met used for otherapplications. In short, about the only way you'll get in that ship is tovaporize it. " "But can't you simply disassemble the door mechanism? My God, howcomplicated can it be?" "We're going to try to do just that, " Bullard said without a trace ofconfidence. "As far as the complication goes, let me say just this: it'sfull of moving parts. " "What are you getting at?" Hansen asked. "Just this. These ships are perfect mechanisms. There is hardly anything inthem that could be called a moving part. Now a door has to open and close. Sure, we devised a simple, safe way to do it a few hundred years after theoriginal fleet was built. The men who designed the original door mechanismfelt, perhaps, that it was incongruous to include it in the first place. Maybe that is why they threw away the plans. God knows, it is incongruous. Look! Here's a photo we took of one in a ship back at base. " Hansen scanned the photograph. It was a meaningless jumble. He handed itback. "Well, make yourself at home. I'm afraid that the only thing I canhelp with will be radio communication to Captain Fromer's ship. " "Good enough, " Bullard said. "I'm expecting someone else tomorrow. Afteryou bring him down, feel free to drop over and see me anytime. " * * * * * Bullard went back to his ship, and Hansen went to bed. He dreamed of HisExalted Excellency R'thagna Bar, growing angrier day by day as the time ofmating came closer. In his dream he suddenly came upon a magnificentsolution to the problem, a solution involving a telepathic system offertilization. He woke up before he had completely worked out the details. Bullard's friend arrived the same morning. He was a small, dark activelittle man whom Hansen immediately disliked. "Meet Dr. Quemos, " Bullard said when Hansen dropped in on them. "Dr. Quemosis a specialist in the history of technology. He thinks he knows how ourcute little door mechanism is made. " "Can't say for sure, " Quemos said, "but I'd guess that those components aremade of metal--real metal. " "I thought that metal was used only in jewelry, " Hansen said. Dr. Quemos grinned slyly. "That's what most people think. Actually, refinedmetal of various types was used in large masses, formed masses, forthousands of years. Historically speaking, the pseudo-mets are relativelynew. " "It's difficult to imagine metal functioning as machinery, " Hansen mused. "And you say that this door mechanism has moving parts, lots of them?" "Moving parts are nothing to be afraid of, " Quemos said. "Here, look atthis. " He put something small on the table, much in the manner of a youngboy dropping a garter snake in the midst of school girls. Bullard andHansen crowded around. "Now, take turns, " said Quemos sharply, "and don'tdrop it. It's priceless, I assure you. " The ancient wrist watch with itstransparent back was passed from hand to hand. "Frightening little monster, isn't it, " Bullard said. "Those small round wheels are called gears, " elucidated Quemos, "one gearturns another, which turns another, and so on. I rather imagine that yourdoor is operated on some similar principle. " "I seem to be the one who asks all the schoolboy questions, " Hansen began, "would somebody tell me why Captain Fromer doesn't take His Excellency tohis home planet, land the ship, and then let his technical staff tear offthe door mechanism?" "We've gone through that, " Bullard said wearily. "Unfortunately we needspecial tools. And there's no way to get them into the ship. " "Can I speak to Captain Fromer?" Quemos asked. "Right away, " Hansen said. He pressed his hand in various patterns on hisbelt. "This is Hansen. Let us talk to Captain Fromer, please. " "Fromer here. Who is it?" "Dr. Quemos speaking. How is your passenger?" "My passenger is fine. But he keeps telling me that he is very anxious toplant his seed. When can you get us out of here?" "Plant his seed?" said Quemos. "There's nothing salacious about this, I've been assured. He simply has abiological craving at this time in his life to--to plant his seed. " "I got problems like that, too, " Bullard said, "but I don't go aroundtelling everybody. " * * * * * "Stop clowning, " Fromer snapped, "you guys better find a way to fix thisdamn door or you'll have a galactic war on your hands. Anybody have anyideas yet?" "We're sure that the door mechanism is made of metal, " Quemos said, "andthe construction is probably based on the principal of a worm gear. " "A what?" "A worm gear, Captain, " Quemos said patiently. "It's an ancient metaldevice that was sometimes used for closing large doors. There is also thepossibility that the door is closed and opened by dogs. These seem to havebeen used, at least, to operate doors of undersea crafts. Although we'renot quite certain about the function of dogs. " The captain maintained a stony silence. "Also, " Quemos continued, "we have unearthed, so to speak, a reference to ametal component called a babbitt--" "Now see here!" Captain Fromer roared, "who do you think you're kiddingwith this talk about worms, dogs and rabbits--" "Babbitts, Captain, babbitts! Perhaps a type of bearing. Anyway, we're atwork on the problem, I assure you. " Quemos motioned to Hansen that he wasthrough talking. * * * * * During the next three days, Hansen twice visited Bullard and Quemos. On each occasion, he found the two men in trance-like conditions, ostensibly thinking through the problem that they had been assigned tosolve, but more probably, Hansen guessed, brooding about the reactionof Sector Headquarters to their daily progress reports which Hansen hadbeen relaying for them. Hansen had only sympathy for the people back atSector Headquarters, for if these two experts were the Galaxy's two toptrouble-shooters, the Federation, was not, as Hansen put it to himself, in very good shape to fight a war with one hundred billion enragedcitizens who worshiped His Exalted Excellency R'thagna Bar almost asmuch as they did his seed. Hansen went back to his reading, only to be interrupted with increasingfrequency by message transmissions from an increasingly alarmed SectorHeadquarters. Most messages were addressed to Bullard, and were bravelydesigned to disguise the senders' hysteria, while at the same timeurging Bullard on to more magnificent efforts. A few messages, fairlyrepresentative of the state of affairs as time wore on reflected anincreasing suspicion on the part of Sector Headquarters that Quemos andBullard, although certainly tops in their fields, were not tops enough. SEC HDQ BULLARD, COM. RLY. 43. 4SC PRESIDENT WOULD LIKE ESTIMATE OF WHEN DOOR WILL BE OPENED. YOU SURE YOU CAN HANDLE? EMPHASIZE THAT POLITICAL SITUATION NOW GETTING TOUCHY. REPEAT TOUCHY. R'THAGNA BAR CALLING ON PRESIDENT TODAY TO MAKE DEMAND THAT SEED BE PLANTED ON TIME. SURE YOU DON'T NEED MORE HELP? CMD GENERAL CMD GENERAL NO HELP NEEDED. MAKING PROGRESS, ASSURE PRESIDENT. TODAY FOUND OUT METAL IN MECHANISM IS VERY HARD. IN CONSTANT RADIO TOUCH WITH FROMER. PASSENGER IMPATIENT BUT QUIETER. SLEEPS MORE NOW. THIS SIGNIFICANT? QUEMOS DEVELOPING THEORY OF MECHANISM. SAYS WILL TAKE TIME TO WORK OUT. HOW MUCH TIME WE HAVE? WHEN MUST SEED BE PLANTED? BULLARD SEC. HDQ. BULLARD, COM. RLY. 43. 4SC MUST HAVE ESTIMATE WHEN DOOR OPENS. THIS AN ORDER. AMBASSADOR THREATENING WAR. CAN'T GIVE DEADLINE OF SEED PLANTING TIME SINCE SUBJECT VERY TABOO. OUR BIOLOGISTS SAY R'THAGNA BAR SLEEPY SIGNIFICANT. MAY BE PRELUDE TO SEEDING TIME. TELL ABOUT QUEMOS THEORY IN NEXT COMMUNICATION. WILL EVALUATE HERE. NICE TO KNOW METAL IS HARD. KEEP UP GOOD WORK. PRESSURE HERE TO SEND YOU HELP. PRESIDENT SAYS WHOLE FEDERATION PRAYING FOR DOOR TO BE FIXED. SAYS TO HURRY UP. CMD GENERAL CMD GENERAL NO ESTIMATE POSSIBLE. QUEMOS THEORY ALMOST COMPLETE. STATES THAT MECHANISM BUILT ON PRINCIPLE OF WORM GEAR. REPEAT. WORM GEAR. TODAY INSTRUCTED FROMER'S CREW TO JIGGLE MOVING PARTS OF MECHANISM AT RANDOM. PARTS WOULD NOT JIGGLE. FROMER STATES THAT R'THAGNA BAR SLEEPS ALL TIME AND COLOR CHANGES TO BLUE AND RED ON STOMACH. THIS SIGNIFICANT? BULLARD SEC HDQ BULLARD, COM. RLY 43. 4SC IMPORTANT YOU AMPLIFY LAST MESSAGE. RED AND BLUE ON STOMACH? WHY R'THAGNA BAR UNDRESSED? INVESTIGATE! PRESIDENT ORDERS HELP SENT. HELP ON WAY. REPEAT. WHY R'THAGNA BAR UNDRESSED? CMD GENERAL CMD GENERAL FROMER ADVISES TELL YOU SHIPS PHYSICIAN HAS PUT R'THAGNA BAR IN REFRIGERATOR. QUEMOS SEC HDQ QUEMOS. COM. RLY. 43. 4SC. TAKE OUT OF REFRIGERATOR! THIS AN ORDER! WHY UNDRESSED? CMD GENERAL CMD GENERAL BULLARD MAKING MODEL OF MY DRAWINGS. READY SOON. R'THAGNA BAR OUT OF REFRIGERATOR AS REQUESTED BUT SHIPS PHYSICIAN VERY ANGRY AND WANTS TO PUT BACK IN. COLOR ON STOMACH PINK AND YELLOW WITH BLUE SQUARES. THIS SIGNIFICANT? QUEMOS It went on like this for several more days. Hansen, at first amused, wasnow alarmed and completely convinced that both Quemos and Bullard werethoroughly useless. The messages were his only source of information, sinceboth "experts" were too immersed in their work to talk with him. As hisalarm grew, he decided that he might at least try to strike up a friendshipwith someone on board Captain Fromer's sealed ship--someone who might havesomething comforting to report. He called up the ship's navigator. "This is Hansen. How're things going up there?" "Ha!" "What's that mean? Good or bad?" "It means, " the navigator said, while yawning, "that things are fallingapart rapidly. In fact, in a day or two I don't think it'll make muchdifference whether or not they open that damn door. " "You, er, care to fill me in?" "Why not?" said the navigator, with the voice of a man who knows that it istoo late for anything to matter. "The members of the crew are divided intotwo factions. It appears that our physician has rallied half the crew tosupport his medical contention that our exhalted passenger belongs in therefrigerator. The good captain, with some justice, one must admit, thinksthat he is in command of the ship, and prefers to believe that R'thagna Barbelongs out of the refrigerator. " "Who seems to be winning the argument?" "Argument? There's no argument, old man--it's open warfare. No weaponsaboard, of course, but the two teams are grappling up and down thecorridors and shuttling our exhalted passenger in and out of the ice boxabout four times each hour. Quite a sight, really. Right now he's _in_the refrigerator, but the other team--" "Let me know who's ahead from time to time, will you?" Hansen heard himselfsay. "Glad to oblige, " the navigator said, yawning again. "Oh, incidentally, have they sent for help yet?" * * * * * Hansen said with some surprise, "Why, as a matter of fact, SectorHeadquarters is sending some help. How did you know?" "Bound to happen sooner or later, old man. When the going really gets toughthey always get around to sending a Gypsy. Only way to get anything done, you know. " "I don't know, " Hansen said reluctantly. "Why is it that everyone knowsexcept me? What, please, is a Gypsy?" "You're too young to know everything, old man, " the navigator said. "You'reespecially too young to know about one of the Federation's best keptsecrets. But you might as well, I suppose. The fact is that a Gypsy is agenerally vagrant, dirty, thieving, clever scoundrel who will not work, whohas absolutely no respect for order or authority, who believes that ourinstitutions are effete and--" "But then why--" "Patience, patience, " cautioned the navigator, haughtily, "if I am toreveal everything I know, I must do it in my own way. The description Ijust gave you is not necessarily true. It is simply the way that SectorHeadquarters feels about Gypsies. Common jealousy, really. It seems thatfrom time to time, our perfect little galactic society spawns men who don'tcare to be cast in the common mold. In short, there are a few men aroundwith brains who don't think that it means very much to wear pretty uniformsor fancy titles. " "Uniforms like yours?" asked Hansen. "Precisely, " the navigator said sadly. "The truth of the matter is, ofcourse, that I only play at being a navigator. I couldn't get this ship offcourse, if I tried. The same is true with the four engineering officers whostand around watching the Hegler drive units. They occasionally make aceremonial adjustment, but beyond that, they simply stand around lookingpretty. " "No moving parts. " Hansen said. "No moving brains, if you like. Anyway, a Gypsy has--somewhere along theline--learned how to do things. They'll take an emergency call about once ayear--if they happen to feel like it. Then they charge about half a millioncredits. " "You mean they have an organization, standard rates and--" "Heavens no!" the navigator said. "They hate anything that smells likeorganization. They don't even specialize in any certain kind of work. Oneyear they'll be fascinated by sub-nucleonics, the next by horse racing. Very erratic. Can't keep attention on any one thing. Heard of one once whoengaged in fishing and alcohol drinking. Brilliant mathematician, too. Buthe'd only take a call once every three years or so. " "For a half million credits a crack, eh? You could live pretty well forthree years on that. " "Strangely enough, " the navigator said thoughtfully, "they don't reallyhave any interest in money. If you'd ever met one, you'd know that the highfee is sort of a penalty they mete out to everyone else for being so dumb. " "Well, one thing for sure, " Hansen said, "if Bullard and Quemos are thecream of the crop, I'm on the side of the Gypsies. " "Ah, youth!" the navigator said, "I, too, once had such dreams--" * * * * * "We'll see about the dreams, " Hansen said, almost menacingly, "I didn'tspend six years in that damn school just to sit around in a pretty uniformfor the rest of my life. " "Oh, you'll get used to it. In fact, you'll like it after a while. The homeleaves. The fuss your friends will make over you when you step off theship. The regular and automatic promotions in grade with the extra goldband added to your sleeve; the move from one outpost to an always largerinstallation. You'll never do much, of course, but why should you? Afterall, there aren't any moving parts. " * * * * * Hansen cut the communicator off. He stood there for a moment, feelingdepressed and betrayed. Automatically he reached down and flicked imaginarydust from his blue sleeve with its narrow solitary gold band. Ten minuteslater the Gypsy's ship signaled for landing. The man who walked into Hansen's control room was hardly the ogre he hadbeen prepared for. He looked, Hansen was later to reflect, like Santa Clauswith muscles in place of the fat. Wearing an almost unheard of beard anddressed in rough clothes, he walked across the room and made short work ofthe usual formalities. "Name's Candle, " said the man. "Where's those twophonies I'm supposed to replace?" "You'll have to go suit up and go back through the airlock, " Hansen said, motioning to the door. "They're in their ship. It's the one next to yours. Want me to tell them you're on your way over?" "Hell, no, " said Candle, grinning, "I'll surprise 'em. Now, suppose you andme sit down and have a little chat. " They sat and Candle pumped Hansen of everything he knew about the entiresituation. An hour later, Hansen felt almost as if he had been had. "Isthat all?" he asked, wearily. "I got the facts, " Candle said. "Now let's go throw those experts out. " Itwasn't quite that simple. Neither Bullard nor Quemos had any intention ofsimply clearing out. "Who the hell you think you are, " Bullard said, "tocome over here and order us off? We didn't even ask for help. And, Godknows, you couldn't supply it anyway. " Bullard, with evident distaste, ranhis eyes up and down Candle's clothing. Dr. Quemos had some ideas, too. "Letter of authority or no letter ofauthority, " Quemos said, pointing a manicured forefinger at the paper inCandle's hand, "you'll ruin everything! You have no idea what you're upagainst. We've spent weeks working this thing out--" Candle grinned. "What've you worked out?" "Why--why we know that this is a metal double enveloping worm gear. " "Wrong, " Candle said. "It's a single enveloping worm gear. It's made ofsteel with an aluminum alloy wheel gear and the two parts have corroded andstuck. The whole mechanism was originally designed for submarines. " Quemos started to say something, then turned and looked at Bullard forreassurance. "He's crazy, " Bullard said, "he's making it up as he goesalong. How could he possibly know what he's talking about? Why, therehaven't been any submarines for centuries. " "I'm tired of playing games, " Candle said, no longer grinning. "The boy andI have work to do. You two are in the way. You'll only take up time if Ihave to work with you and show you what to do. I want you and your ship outof here in half an hour. " "Who's going to make us?" Bullard asked with great originality. "I am. " Everybody turned around to see who else had entered the conversation. Itwas Hansen. "I'm going to give you fifteen minutes, not thirty, " Hansensaid. "Then I'm going to turn the grid power on at full intensity. You caneither use it to take off, or sit around and roast alive inside your ship. "Candle turned and looked at Hansen with new respect. "Okay ... Let's goback to your place. I've still got some things to figure out. " Quemos was on the verge of hysteria. "You're bluffing! You wouldn't dare. I'll report this!" Fifteen minutes later, the ship headed for space. * * * * * Back in Hansen's room, the two men ate a quick lunch, then sat at the tableand talked about Candle's plans for opening the reluctant door. "The way Ifigure it, " Candle said, "I think that we can handle the whole thing byradio. Which reminds me, one of these days I'm going to build a telescreenthat will transmit and receive through pseudo-met. Not too difficult reallyif you approach the problem--" "I better get Fromer for you, " Hansen said hurriedly. "Fromer here, " said the bass voice. "This is Candle. Let me talk to one of your so-called engineeringofficers. " "Who the hell--" "Shut up and go get 'em, " Candle growled back. "And one more yelp out ofyou and you'll stay in that ship till you rot. " There was a pause, then Fromer again, a meek Fromer. "My chief engineeringofficer is with me. " "Okay. Now get this. Come to think of it, you'd better record it. Numberone: By now you know which component is a worm gear. You will notice, I'mquite certain, that it engages a large notched wheel. The reason that thedoor will not move is because at the point where the two gears meet, someof the metal has oxidized. For possible use in future emergencies, I offerthis explanation. The entire mechanism is subject to periodic vacuum, whenthe airlock door is operated. In between times, the mechanism is in theship's atmosphere. A condition of lower oxygen content thus obtains aroundthe sealed off area, and such an area is anodic--in other words, corrodiblewith respect to the surrounding areas in which oxygen has free access. Now, since this door has opened and closed successfully for about five hundredyears, it appears that there's a special reason why it suddenly refuses tofunction. At a guess, you would experience this condition of intensecorrosion only when the aluminum in the wheel gear is exposed to somethinglike sodium hydroxide, and only at the point where it controls the wormgear. Now, has this ship landed recently within such an atmosphere?" "Three weeks ago on Ghortin IV, " said the weak voice of the engineer. "Welanded to get some pictures of the cloud formations for souvenirs. Wedropped on the edge of a large body of water because the view was better--" * * * * * Candle shook his head sadly and said, "You could have avoided troubleby coming in over the land instead of the water. The heat from theship boiled the water which undoubtedly contained sodium carbonate andcalcium hydroxide; presto, and the air was filled with clouds of sodiumhydroxide. "I suggest that you steer away from all such wicked places in the future. Of course, if you'd learn how to mine ore, smelt metal, machinecomponents--" "First they'd have to discover fire, " Hansen said out of the corner ofhis mouth. "You're catching on, son, " Candle said, out of the corner of his mouth. "Now, gentlemen, to open the door it will be necessary to break thecorroded area apart. This is a large heavy mechanism, as such things go. Since you have no tools heavy enough to batter the corroded area apart, you'll have to make some. " "How can we?" Candle sighed. "I wish I had time to teach you to think, but instead, you'll have to do as I tell you to do. I think you can probably make abattering ram out of water. You just--don't interrupt--find or make a longcylindrical container, fill it with water and quick-freeze it in yourrefrigerator--" "But they put R'thagna Bar in the refrigerator again--" "Then I suggest you get him the hell out, " Candle said. An hour later ten men smashed a half-ton cylinder of ice against thecorroded junction of the two gears. Following Candle's instructions, theynext applied the ram to the door itself, which smoothly swung open. "You'llfind, " Candle explained, "that the only damage will be the two missingteeth on the aluminum gear. Since only two teeth are ever in contact at anytime, you can simply slide the gear forward and engage it at a point wherethe teeth are intact. You'll find, I'm quite sure, that your door willfunction properly. Also, Captain, don't pull out of here until I'm aboard. I think I'd like to bring an assistant along, too. " "An assistant?" Hansen asked. Candle twirled the ends of his long white moustache. "You, my lad, if you'dlike to go along. " He pulled a letter from his pocket and fanned the airwith it. "I'm in complete command of this expedition--at least until HisExalted Excellency gets home to plant his seed. " * * * * * Hansen's face glowed. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do. Let's get acouple of messages off to Sector Headquarters and get on board ship. " "It may not be any joy ride, " Candle said thoughtfully. "You probablyhaven't heard about it, but there've been a number of ship emergencies inthe past few weeks. " "Door failures?" "No. At least none that I've heard of. But at least two Hegler drives havestopped working in mid space. " "But, but there's nothing to stop working--" Candle's eyes twinkled. "No moving parts, eh?" Hansen reddened. "I hope I've outgrown that silly notion. " Candle peered into Hansen's eyes. "I'm sure you have. I'm sure that youwill find out a lot more things for yourself. You're the kind. And we'regoing to need a lot of your kind, because failures--failures of so-calledperfect mechanisms--are becoming more and more commonplace. " Candlepointed to the emergency light on the traffic control panel. "That lightwill be flashing with more and more frequency in the months to come. Butnot just to signal trouble in space. If I were a superstitious man, I'dthink that the age of the perfect machine is about to be superseded by theage of the perfect failure--mechanical failures that can't be explained onany level. I have several friends who've been in touch with me recentlyabout--" "You think that it's time for a change?" Candle smiled quickly. "That's the idea. And the truth of the matter isthat I _am_ a superstitious man. I really believe, childishly, that themechanics and motions of the galaxy may turn themselves upsidedown just tosnap man out of his apathy and give him some work to do. " * * * * * Upsidedown turned out to be a good word. They boarded the big ship an hourlater and were respectfully ushered into the presence of Captain Fromer andhis staff. "We're underway, " Captain Fromer said. "We'll be landing in nine days todeliver R'thagna Bar home. " "How is he?" Hansen asked. Fromer shrugged. "He's been thawed out, frozen, and thawed out so manytimes, it's anybody's guess. Take a look for yourself. " Someone pulled back a curtain to expose the recumbent, thawing, steamy formof His Exhalted Excellency R'thagna Bar. "Why's he undressed?" Hansen asked. "Funny, now that you mention it, " Fromer said, puzzled, "why _is_ heundressed?" "Fascinating! Damnedest thing I've ever seen, " Candle said. "What's so fascinating?" Fromer asked suspiciously, moving closer. "His belly. Never saw anything like it. Those black squares keep appearingand disappearing. If I've ever seen a truly random pattern--" "It started right after they froze him the first time, " Fromer saiddisconsolately. "Fascinating, by Heaven, " said Candle, who was now down on his hands andknees. "Look at that top sequence! Random, yet physiological. I've got afriend on Bridan III who'd trade anything for some photos of this. Get mesome photo equipment, will you?" Captain Fromer ran his hands through what was left of his hair. "Get himsome photo equipment, " he said to no one in particular, "and somebody makea truce with that idiot doctor long enough to get me a sedative. " Aboutthis time the ship turned upsidedown. "But there's no reason for it!" the chief engineer said, runningalongside Hansen and Candle. "The ship can't turn upsidedown. Everythingis functioning perfectly!" "Really not interested, " said Candle, running down the corridor's mile-longceiling. "Figure something out for yourself for a change. " "But what I can't understand, " said Hansen, dutifully trotting alongside, "is how you knew with such certainty how the door mechanism was made. Evenif submarines _were_ built like that, you'd have no way of knowing. Therehaven't been any submarines in centuries. " "The hell you say, " said Candle, increasing his pace, "I built one fiveyears ago. " "Built one! What for?" "For the hell of it, and it was a damned good outfit, too. I found plans inan old museum, and had the good sense not to improve on 'em. Alwaysremember, boy, that something that really works can't be improved. That'swhy the submarine mechanism was adopted--not adapted--for space. Theso-called 'better way' they're building 'em today is simply a disguise forthe fact that most of the gas is gone from our technology. " "What happened to the submarine?" "Oh, I traded it to a friend for some falcons. You interested in falconryby any chance?" "Er, no. Can't say that I am. " "You will be, " Candle said prophetically, "you'll succumb to everyenthusiasm man has ever been deviled with. You're the type. It's adisease, boy, and the big symptom isn't just curiosity, but the kindof intense curiosity that turns you inside out, devours you and ruinsyou for orthodoxy. " * * * * * Hansen had stopped listening. He was absorbed in trying to recall thepattern he had pressed on his radio belt--a pattern never taught tohim--when the ship had suddenly turned upsidedown. Hesitantly, he playedwith the notion that he had been _thinking_ of the ship travelingupsidedown at the time he impressed the novel pattern on the belt. Now, could that have possibly ... ? The man and the boy disappeared down the ceiling, running at top speedto catch up as the rapidly vanishing form of R'thagna Bar was dragged andpulled relentlessly toward the refrigerator in a tug of war between theship's wild, divided crew. "Fascinating!" said Candle. His eyes, glittering with their own peculiarmadness, remained riveted on the distant imperial belly. "Never sawanything like it!" THE END TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES This etext was produced from Amazing Science Fiction Stories May 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright onthis publication was renewed. The following corrections have been applied: Page 16: "{original omitted this quotation mark}You're especially too young to know about one of the Federation's best kept secrets. Page 16: Hansen said with some surprise{original had surprice}, "Why, as a matter of fact, Sector Headquarters is sending some help. Page 19: "I'm going to give you fifteen minutes, not thirty{original had thiry}, " Hansen said. Page 24: as the rapidly vanishing form of R'thagna Bar was dragged and pulled relentlessly toward the refrigerator in a tug of war between the ship's{original had ships'} wild, divided crew. Pages 10, 11 and 19: All occurrences of "psuedo-met" have been changed to"pseudo-met". The inconsistencies in the use of exalted/exhalted are as in the original. Ellipses have been formatted as in the original.