The Old Man of the Stars by John Burke Read Free Book Online Page A

sufficient quantity to feed the crew effectively. Someone had to make experiments with this technique, as none of those at present available were experts on such matters.
    Fortunately, at the end of the first month, an experienced biologist appeared. He came trudging into sight across the plain in company with four others—survivors of Decelonia, the town beyond Martinstown.
    â€œWe heard your signals and questions on the day of the attack,” he told Matthew and Clifford, “but after that the building was destroyed, and we had no way of getting in touch with you.”
    He and his companions had come through Martinstown and found no one left alive there. But from the hills they had seen the shattered enemy ship, and signs of activity in the distance, and they had come on full of hope.
    â€œMust have been different ships that attacked you,” said Clifford after a comparison of times on that fateful day had been made. “Mm. They were certainly out to finish us off.”
    The biologist gladly set to work to develop the shallow culture beds. Three of the women who had come with him began to make clothing. “We shall wear as little as possible on board ship,” Matthew explained. “You’ll find it gets intolerably hot inside the ship, even though space itself is icy cold. But the climates of other planets are nothing like Elysium. We must have plenty of adequate clothing stowed away, ready for when we need it.” And so the various tasks were allotted to eager helpers. Setting off into space was not merely a matter of building a suitable engine into a ship, and then launching it: food and clothing, air purification plant and the manufacture of oxygen in conjunction with the food culture shelves were all prime essentials.
    Innumerable frustrating difficulties were encountered. A prosperous industrial civilisation had first conceived and built the spaceship that had left Earth for the stars. A pastoral civilisation whose members had nearly all been blotted out in a ruthless attack was now trying to make that ship spaceworthy again, and it was not an easy task. The months rolled by. The furnaces in the old factories on the far side of the town had to be brought into use, and their inefficiencies rectified.
    Clifford and Bellhouse spent weeks tracing the convolutions of the drive mechanism in the enemy ship. They evolved a theory, experimented, and nearly blew out the side of the main building. But they insisted that they were on the right track, and went on until they were satisfied.
    Matthew found it hard now to control his impatience. Despite all the setbacks, his dream of going home was nearer realisation than it had ever been before; but that only had the effect of making him more and more irritable. How long would these wearisome constructional jobs take? How long before they soared up into space and turned towards Earth?
    There were other problems to be dealt with, too. Human problems.
    Most of those preparing for the flight into space had been enthusiasts from the start. The nucleus of the group was formed of men and women whose imaginations had been excited by Matthew’s hopes and by the stories he told, and now that their homes had been destroyed they had an additional reason for no longer staying on this planet. Added to that, the promise of getting to Earth in twenty-five years was a real incentive.
    But there were one or two people who were not too happy about the voyage. Two young men and a middle-aged woman who had come from Decelonia were particularly hostile.
    â€œWhy should we slave to go out and spend the better part of our lives cooped up in a spaceship?” they demanded. “Better to stay here. We can live simply, and slowly rebuild a town here.”
    â€œA hundred years from now,” grumbled the woman, “there could be a thriving town here again—or at the very least a village—instead of nothing at all. If we set off in this ship, we may all