The computer flashes: URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED Henry turns. Ryan hides the gun behind his back. Henry signals to him to have a look at the computer. Ryan approaches it suspiciously.
******YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO COMMAND THIS******CRAFT"
"'REPEAT YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO******COMMAND THIS CRAFT"
REPEAT YOU ARE IN NO******CONDITION TO COMMAND THIS CRAFT"
"TAKE ONE DOSE*ICC PRODITOL INSTANTLY AND REPEAT DOSE DAILY FOR***
FOURTEEN DAYS"
"YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO******COMMAND THIS CRAFT"
"YOU ARE ENDANGERING THE****ENTIRE EXPEDITION IF YOU DO NOT FOLLOW THESE******INSTRUCTIONS AT ONCE"
"REPEAT AT ONCE**********************
Ryan looks contemptuously at Henry. 'You'll use anything to try to discredit me, won't you?'
Henry says calmly: 'You are a sick man, Ryan. The computer's right. Why don't you...?'
Ryan raises the Purdy automatic and fires one bullet into Henry's skull. The man's head jerks back. He opens his mouth to say something. Ryan fires again. James Henry falls.
Ryan scowls at the computer. 'The next one's for you if you go on playing games with me, chum.'
He turns the cut-out switch.
*******YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO COMMAND THIS**********************************************
URGENT ATTENTION REQUIRED
URGENT AT
Tension, tension everywhere
Not any time to think
CRAFT"
"REPEAT YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO***********************************************
There is d...
Q. WHAT IS THE EXACT NATURE OF THE CATASTROPHE?
*
Ryan wakes up, sweating. His suit is torn. The bunk is in a mess.
He climbs off the bunk and stands on the floor, shaking. The Proditol just hasn't been enough. But he can't risk taking any more. He strips the bunk and disposes of the covers. He takes off his clothes and disposes of them.
A feeling of desperation engulfs him. Is he really incurable?
Will he never shake the nightmares? He was sure he was better.
And yet...
Suppose they haven't been giving him Proditol. Suppose they are deliberately poisoning him. No. Not his friends. Not his family. They couldn't be so cruel.
And yet hasn't he been cruel? Hasn't he done as much for expediency's sake?
He sobs, drawing in huge breaths.
Ryan falls on his bunk and weeps.
He weeps for a long while before he hears his brother John's voice.
'What's the matter, old chap?'
He looks up. John's face is sympathetic. But can he trust him?
'I'm still getting the nightmares, John. They're just as bad.
Worse, if anything.'
John spreads his hands helplessly. 'You must try to rest. Take some sleeping pills. Try to sleep, for God's sake. There's nothing to worry about. The responsibility was too much for you. No one man should have to bear such a burden. You're afraid that you might weaken—but it is right to weaken sometimes. You expect too much of yourself, old son.'
'Yes.' Ryan rubs at his face. 'I've done my best, John. For all of you.'
'Of course.'
'What?'
'Of course you have.'
'People are never grateful.'
'We're grateful, old chap.'
'I'm a murderer, John. I murdered for your sake.'
'You took too much on. It was self-defence.'
That's what I think, but...'
'Try to rest.'
More tears fall from Ryan's eyes.
'I'll try, John.'
*
The music has started again. The drums are beating. Ryan watches the dancers circle about the control room. They are smiling fixed, insincere smiles. James Henry dances with one of them. He has two holes in his forehead.
Ryan wakes up.
*
The dream is so vivid that Ryan can hardly believe he did not shoot James Henry. Obviously he didn't. John would have mentioned it. He gets out of his bunk and pulls on a new suit of coveralls. He leaves the cabin and goes to the control room.
It is empty, silent save for the muted noises of the instruments.
There is no sign of any sort of struggle.
Ryan smiles at his own stupidity and leaves the control room.
Only when he is back in his bunk does he realise that there should have been someone on watch.
He frowns.
Things are relaxed. But should they be lax?
He feels he should go and check, but he is sleepy...
*
He awakes to find the smiling face of his wife Josephine bending over him.
'How are you?'
'Still rough,' he says. 'You were right. I should have stayed in my bunk longer.'
'You'll be fit and well soon.'
He nods, but he is not confident. She seems to understand this.
'Don't worry,' she says softly. 'Don't worry.'
'I suspect everyone, Jo—even you. That's not healthy, is it?'
'Don't worry.'
She goes towards the door. 'Fred Masterson's thinking of dropping in later. Do you want to see him?'
'Old Fred? Sure.'
*
Fred Masterson sat on the edge of Ryan's bunk.
'You're still feeling a bit under the weather, I hear,' Fred said.
'Still got the old persecution sniff, eh?'
Ryan nods. 'I once heard someone say that if you had persecution feelings it usually meant you were being persecuted,' he says.
Though not always from the source you suspect.'
That's a bit complicated for me.' Fred laughs. 'You know old Fred—simple-minded.'
Ryan smiles slowly. He is pleased to see Fred.
'I cracked up once,' Fred continues. 'Do you remember? That awful business with Tracy?'
Ryan shakes his head. 'No...'
'Come on—you remember. When I thought Tracy was having it off with James Henry. You must remember. When we'd only been on the ship for a month.'
Ryan frowns. 'No. I can't remember. Did you mention it?'
'Mention it! I should think I did! You helped me out of that one. It was you who suggested that Tracy would be better off if she was in hibernation.'
'Oh yes. Yes, I do remember. She was overwrought...'
'We all were. We decided that in order to ease the tension she should enter her container a bit earlier than scheduled.'
That's right. Of course...'
'Off course,' says Masterson.
Ryan looks at him. 'You're not—you're not having a joke with me are you, Fred?'
'Why should I do that?'
'I'm still getting a touch of the trouble I had earlier. Visual hallucinations. It's nasty.'
'I bet it is.'
Ryan turns in the bunk. 'I'm a bit tired now, Fred.'
'I'll be off, then. See you. Keep smiling.'
'See you,' says Ryan.
When Masterson has gone, he frowns. He really doesn't remember much about Tracy and Masterson's problems with her.
It begins to dawn on him that he might not be as disturbed as he thinks. If he is in a bad way, might not some of the others be in equally poor shape? Maybe Fred Masterson has a few delusions of his own to contend with?
It is a likely explanation. He had better be careful. And he had better humour Fred next time he sees him.
He begins to worry.
If they are all in bad shape, then that could threaten the smooth running of the ship. It is up to him to get well soon, keep a careful eye on the others.
People under stress do odd things, after all. They get peculiar paranoid notions. Like James Henry's...
Next time he sees John, he'll suggest, reasonably, that James Henry have another spell of hibernation. For his own sake and the sake of the rest of them. It could be suggested quite subtly to James.