The Last Spaceship Read online

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  The Last Spaceship

  by Murray Leinster

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  Science Fiction

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  Wildside Press

  ebooks.wildsidebooks.com

  Copyright ©1949 by Wildside Press

  First published in USA, 1949

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  THE LAST SPACESHIP

  MURRAY LEINSTER

  WILDSIDE PRESS

  * * *

  THE LAST SPACESHIP

  Copyright © 1949 by Will F. Jenkins.

  Copyright not renewed.

  This edition published in 2006 by Wildside Press, LLC.

  www.wildsidepress.com

  PART ONE

  THE DISCIPLINARY CIRCUIT

  * * *

  1

  VICTIM OF TYRANTS

  Kim Rendell stood by the propped-up Starshine in the transport hall of the primary museum on Alphin III. He regarded a placard under the spaceship with a grim and entirely mirthless amusement. He was unshaven and hollow-cheeked. He was even ragged. He was a pariah because he had tried to strike at the very foundation of civilization. He stood beside the hundred-foot, tapering hull, his appearance marking him as a blocked man. And he reread the loan-placard within the railing about the exhibit:

  Citizens, be granted to Ken Rendell, who shares with you the pleasure of contemplating this heirloom.

  This is a spaceship, like those which for ten thousand years were the only means of travel between planets and solar systems. Even after matter-transmitters were devised, spaceships continued to be used for exploration for many years. Since exploration of the Galaxy has been completed and all useful planets colonized and equipped with matter-transmitters, spaceships are no longer in use.

  This very vessel, however, was used by Sten Rendell when the first human colonists came in it to Alphin III, bringing with them the matter-transmitter which enabled civilization to enter upon and occupy the planet on which you stand.

  This ship is private property, lent to the people of Alphin III by Kim Rendell, great-grandson of Sten Rendell.

  Kim Rendell read it again. He was haggard and hungry. He had been guilty of the most horrifying crime imaginable to a man of his time. But the law would not, of course, allow him or any other man to be coerced by any violence or threat to his personal liberty.

  Freedom was the law on Alphin III, a wryly humorous law. No man could be punished. No man could have any violence offered him. Theoretically, the individual was free as men had never been free in all of human history. Despite Kim's crime, this spaceship still belonged to him and it could not be taken from him.

  Yet he was hungry, and he would remain hungry. He was shabby and he would grow shabbier. This was the only roof on Alphin III which would shelter him, and this solely because the law would not permit any man to be excluded from his rightful possessions.

  A lector came up to him and bowed politely.

  “Citizen,” he said apologetically, “may I speak to you?"

  “Why not?” asked Kim grimly. “I am not proud."

  The lector said uncomfortably, “I see that you are in difficulty. Your clothes are threadbare.” Then he added with unhappy courtesy, “You are a criminal, are you not?"

  “I am blocked,” said Kim in a hard voice. “I was advised by the Prime Board to leave Alphin Three for my own benefit. I refused. They put on the first block. Automatically, after that, the other blocks came on one each day. I have not eaten for three days. I suppose you would call me a criminal."

  “I sympathize deeply,” the lector answered unhappily. “I hope that soon you will concede the wisdom of the advised action and be civilized again. But may I ask how you entered the museum? The third block prevents entrance to all places of study."

  Kim pointed to the loan-card.

  “I am Kim Rendell,” he said dryly. “The law does not allow me to be prevented access to my own property. I insisted on my right to visit this ship, and the Disciplinary Circuit for this building had to be turned off at the door so I could enter.” He shivered. “It is very cold out-of-doors today, and I could not enter any other building."

  The lector looked relieved.

  “I am glad to know these things,” he said gratefully. “Thank you.” He glanced at Kim with a sort of fluttered curiosity. “It is most interesting to meet a criminal. What was your crime?"

  Kim looked at him under scowling brows.

  “I tried to nullify the Disciplinary Circuit."

  The lector blinked at him, fascinated, then walked hastily away as if frightened. Kim Rendell stooped under the railing and approached the Starshine.

  The entrance-port was open, and a flush ladder led up to it. Kim, hollow-cheeked and ragged and defiant, climbed the steps and entered. The entry-port gave upon a vestibule which Kim knew from his grandfather's tables to be an airlock. Kim's grandfather had once gone off into space in the Starshine with his father. It was, possibly the last space-flight ever made.

  For a hundred years, now, the ship had been a museum-piece, open to public inspection. But parts had been sealed off as uninstructive. Kim broke the seals. This was his property, but if he had not already been a criminal under block, the breaking of the seals would have made him one. At least, it would have had to be explained to a lector who, at discretion, would accept the explanation or refer it to a second-degree counselor.

  The counselor might deplore the matter and dismiss it, or suggest corrective self-discipline.

  If the seal-breaker did not accept the suggestion the matter would go to a social board whose suggestion in turn, could be rejected. But when it reached the Prime Board—and any matter from the breaking of a seal to mass murder would go there if suggested self-discipline was refused—there was no more nonsense.

  Kim's case had reached the Prime Board instantly, and he had been advised to leave Alphin III for his own good. His crime was monstrous, but he had ironically refused exile.

  Now he was under block. His psychogram had been placed in the Disciplinary Circuit.

  On the first day he was blocked from the customary complete outfit of new garments, clean, sterile, and of his own choice. These garments normally arrived by his bedside in the carrier which took away the old ones to be converted back to raw materials for the garment machines.

  On the second day he could enter no place of public recreation. An attempt to pass the door of any sport-field, theatre, or concert stadium caused the Disciplinary Circuit to act. His body began to tingle. He could turn back then. If he persisted, the tingling became more severe. If he was obstinate, it became agony, which continued until he turned back.

  On the third day he found it impossible to enter any place of study or labor. The fourth day blocked him from any place where food or drink was served. On the fifth day his own quarters were barred to him.

  After seven days the city and the planet would be barred. Anywhere he went, his body would tingle, gently in the morning, more and more strongly as the day wore on, until the torment became unbearable. Then he would go to the matter-transmitter, name his chosen place of exile, and walk off the planet which was Alphin III.

  But it happed that Kim was a matter-transmitter technician. It happened that he knew that the Disciplinary Circuit was tied in to the matter-transmitter, and blocked men were not sent t
o destinations of their own choosing.

  Blocked men automatically went to Ades. And they did not come back. Ever.

  Behind the sealed-off parts of the spaceship, Kim searched hungrily and worked desperately, not for food, of course. He had determined to attempt the impossible. He had accomplished only the first step toward it when he felt an infinitesimal tingling all over his body. He stood rigid for a second, and then smiled grimly. He closed the casing of the catalyzer he had examined and worked on.

  “Jut in time,” he said. “The merciless brutes!"

  He moved from the catalyzer. A moment later he heard footsteps. Someone came up the flush ladder and into the spaceship. Kim Rendell turned his head. Then he bent over the fuel-register, which amazingly showed the tanks to be almost one-twelfth full of fuel, and stood motionless.

  The footsteps moved here and there. Presently they came cautiously to the engine-room. Kim did not stir. A man made an indescribable sound of satisfaction. Kim, not moving even his eyes, saw that it was the lector who had spoken to him outside the ship. He did not address Kim now. With a quite extraordinary air of someone about to pick up an inanimate object, the lector laid hands upon Kim to lift him off his feet.

  “Citizen!” Kim said severely. “What does this mean?"

  The lector gasped. He fell back. His mouth dropped open and his face went white.

  “I—I thought you were paralyzed."

  “I do not care what you thought!” Kim said. “It is against the law for any citizen to lay violent hands upon another."

  By an effort the lector regained his self-control.

  “You—you ... The Circuit failed to work!"

  “You reported that I had entered this ship,” Kim said dryly. “There is some uneasiness about what I do, because of my crime. So the Circuit was applied to paralyze me, and you were ordered to bring me quietly to the matter-transmitter. As you observe, it is not practical. Go back and report it."

  The lector said something incoherent, turned and fled. Kim followed him leisurely to the entry-port. He turned the hand-power wheels which put a barrier across the entrance. He went back to his examination of the ship. The first part of the impossible had been achieved, but there was much more, too much more, which must be done. He worked feverishly.

  His grandfather told him many tales of the Starshine. She had made voyages of as long as two years in emptiness, at full acceleration, during which she had covered four hundred light-years of space, had purified her air, and fed her crew. Her tanks could hold fuel for six years’ drive at full acceleration and her food-synthesizers, primitive as they were by modern standards, could yet produce some four hundred foodstuffs from the carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and traces of other elements into which almost any organic raw material could be resolved.

  She was, in fact, one of the last and most useful spaceships ever constructed at the last spaceship yard in existence. She was almost certainly the last ever to be used. But she was only a museum-piece now and her switches were open and her control-cables severed lest visitors to the museum injure her. But Kim's grandfather had lectured him at great length upon her qualities. The old gentleman had had an elderly man's distaste for modern perfectionism.

  Kim threw switches here and there. He spliced cables wherever he found them cut. He was hungry, and he was gaunt, and he worked with a bitter anticipation of failure. He had been in the museum for almost an hour, and in the ship for half of that, when voices called politely through the barrier-grille.

  “Citizen Kim Rendell, may we enter?"

  He made sure it was safe, then opened the way.

  “Enter and welcome, citizens,” he said ironically, in the prescribed formula. But his hands were clenched and he was all ready to fight for his life.

  * * *

  2

  BREAK FOR FREEDOM

  Slowly the Prime Board of Alphin III filed up the flush ladder and into the cabin of the Starshine. There was Malby, who looked like an elderly sheep. There was Ponter, who rather resembled an immature frog. There was Shimlo, who did not look like anything but an advanced case of benevolent imbecility, and Burt, who at least looked intelligent and whom Kim Rendell hated with a corrosive hatred.

  “Greeting, citizen,” Malby said. Even his voice had a bleating quality. “Despite your crime, we have broken all precedent to come and reason with you. You are not mad, yet your act like a madman."

  Kim grinned savagely at him.

  “Come now! I found a material that changes a man's psychogram, so he's immune to the Disciplinary Circuit. I was immune to discipline. So you four had me seized and my little amulet taken away from me. And then you sealed up every other bit of that material on the planet. Not so?"

  “Naturally,” Burt said pleasantly. “The Disciplinary Circuit is the basis of civilization nowadays. All discipline and hence all civilization would cease if the Circuit was nullified. Naturally, you must be disposed of."

  “But carefully, so if there is anyone who shares my secret, he'll be betrayed by trying to help me!” said Kim. “And quietly, too, so those amiable sheep, my fellow-citizens, won't suspect there's anything wrong. They don't realize that they're slaves. They don't know of your pleasure-palaces on the other side of the planet. They don't realize that, when you take a fancy to a woman and she's blocked in her quarters until she's hysterical with fear and loneliness, you advise her to take psychological treatments which make her a submissive inmate of the harems you keep there. They don't know what happens to men you put under block for being too inquisitive about those women and who enter the matter-transmitter for exile."

  Burt looked mildly inquiring. “What does happen to them?"

  “Ades!” Kim said furiously. “They go to the transmitter and name their chosen place of exile, and the transmitter-clerk dutifully pushes the proper buttons, but the Circuit takes over. They go to Ades! And no man has ever come back."

  There was a sudden tension in the air. Burt looked at his fellows. Shimlo was the picture of benevolent indignation, but his eyes were ugly. Ponter opened his mouth and closed it absurdly, looking more than ever like a frog.

  “This is monstrous!” Malby bleated. “This is monstrous!"

  Burt held up his hand.

  “How did you get this strange idea?” he asked.

  “I'm a matter-transmitter technician, fourth grade,” Kim said coldly. “I worked on the transmitter when it gave trouble. I found the Disciplinary Circuit tie-in. I traced it. So I knew there was something wrong about all personal freedom on Alphin III and I started to look for more things wrong. I found them. I started to do something about them. Then I got caught."

  Burt nodded.

  “So!” he said thoughtfully. “We underestimated you, Kim Rendell. It is much pleasanter to rule Alphin Three as beloved citizens than as admitted tyrants. There are times when we have to protect ourselves. Naturally, we would rather not show our hands. It is clear that you must be sent into exile. Frankly, to Ades—whatever it may be like there. Apparently you did not have any friends."

  “I dared not trust any of the sheep you rule,” Kim said angrily. “But I did know there was more hafnium on this ship. I didn't dare come at first, or you'd have guessed. But after I'd starved a bit and was convincingly cold, I risked the venture. You guessed my intention too late. I can defy you again, even if you did take away my first protection from the Circuit. You know that?"

  Burt nodded again.

  “Of course,” he admitted. “Yet we do not want a scandal. We will make a bargain within limits. You must be disposed of, but we will promise that you can go wherever you choose via the matter-transmitter."

  “Your word's no good,” Kim snapped.

  “You will starve,” Burt said mildly. “Of course you can seal yourself in the ship, but we will have lectors, special lectors, waiting for you when you come out again."

  Kim scowled. “Yes?” he said. “I've been here half an hour. The ship's circuits were cut, but I've put the communicator back in
working order. I can broadcast over the entire planet, telling the truth. I won't destroy your power, but I'll make your slaves begin to realize what they are. Sooner or later, one of them will kill you."

  Malby bleated. It was not necessarily panic, but there are some minds to whom public admiration is necessary. Such persons will commit any crime to get admiration which they crave with a passionate desire. Burt held up his hand again.

  “But why tell us?” he asked pleasantly. “Why didn't you simply broadcast what you've learned? Possibly it was because you wished to bargain with us first? You have terms?"

  Kim ground his teeth.

  “That's right,” he said. “There is a girl, Dona Brett. She was to marry me, but one of you saw her, I think you, Burt. She is now blocked in her quarters to grow hysterical and terrified. It was on account of her that I acted too soon, and got caught. I want her here."

  Burt considered without perceptible emotion.

  “She is quite pretty, but there are others,” he said in his detached way. “If I send her, you will not broadcast?"

  “I'll kill her and myself,” Kim said. “It's apparently the only service I can do her. Get out, now. It will take your best technician at least forty minutes to make a scrambler which will keep me from broadcasting. I'll give you twenty minutes to get her to me. I'll talk to all the planet if she isn't here."

  Burt shrugged.

  “Almost, I overestimated you,” he said mildly. “I thought you had an actual plan. Very well. She will come. But if I were you, I would not delay my suicide."

  Burt's eyes gleamed for an instant. Then he went out, followed by the others. Kim worked the controls which sealed the ship. He got feverishly to work again.

  From time to time he stared desperately out of the vision-ports, and then resumed his labors. His task seemingly was an impossible one. The Starshine had been made into a mere museum exhibit. It was complete, but Kim's knowledge was inadequate and his time far too short.