Chapter 14

During the next two or three “waking periods” Jak busied himself studying his reeltext, but this was such a common sight it attracted no special attention. Nor did the others notice that he began disappearing into the ship’s storeroom each “up” period, and had to be called repeatedly when the meal was ready, or it was time to strap down again.

He said nothing of what he was doing, nor did any of the others think to ask, for the boys were customarily here and there about the ship, busy at their many tasks and activities.

But at the start of one “up” period Jak went at once to the storeroom and workshop, and when he came back to the table set in the control room he showed his family a large corked test tube filled with a colorless liquid.

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, his eyes shining. “I found all the ingredients needed in our stores and my medical kit, and made up a batch of the cataleptic fluid. We inject four cc’s in each of us and...”

“What’re you talking about?” Jon demanded.

“The stuff to make us unconscious so we can stand five G’s of acceleration.” Jak looked up in hurt surprise. “What we were talking about the other...”

“I thought we were going to forget that nonsense,” his mother said sharply.

“Wait, now, Marci, let’s hear what the boy has,” her husband said gently. Then, “Go ahead, Jak, tell us more about this.”

“This medicine, injected into our blood streams, puts us into suspended animation for several days, depending on how much of the fluid we use.

We first take an injection of glucose and other nutrients, of course, then this stuff puts us into deep sleep--slows our metabolism. You said in such a state we could stand much heavier acceleration, Father. Then with this we can beat Bogin.”

“What sort of shape will it leave us in?” his father almost raised up in interest, and held up his hand when his wife would have broken in.

“Are there any after-effects?”

“The book says the doctor never discovered any, especially after he started giving people the nutrient injections first. He has had people under for as much as two weeks. Four cc’s will act for about five days, so I thought we could use that much the first time, at least.”

“Five G’s would certainly put us ‘way ahead of Bogin’s ship.” Jon had jumped up from the table and had been working swiftly with the computer. “Two such five-day periods--three more days on positive acceleration, then seven on negative--ought to give us a controllable velocity somewhere near Sol. We’d have to compute it more exactly, of course, before we take each shot.”

Mr. Carver thought slowly and intently, then spoke decisively. “I believe that this is our best bet, if it’s sure. We certainly want to get back first, if possible, and according to our present routine, which is all we can stand as we are, Bogin can beat us in. Besides, he will undoubtedly shoot down the Star Rover if he catches up with it--and you know what would happen to us!”

“Yes, when I checked today he was only about two hundred million behind.”

“Let’s try it!” Jak was all eagerness.

“Take it easy, Son. We’ve got to talk and study this a lot first.”

Mr. Carver then turned to his wife, who had sunk back into her seat, biting her lips to keep from crying out, her hands clenched tightly.

“Well make as sure as we possibly can before we decide to do anything, Honey, but don’t you see the advantage of this if it will work? We must get to Terra first if we can, and this seems to be the only way we know of doing it.”

“I see that,” she said with a sigh of resignation, “and I know you’ll know what you’re doing before you do it.”

“We sure will.” Then Mr. Carver turned back to Jak. “Tell us again all about this stuff, and what the book says.”

Jak talked rapidly but concisely for nearly five minutes. Afterwards he showed his father the reel, and his table of components of the mixture.

Mr. Carver studied the book carefully for some time, and minutely compared the formula as given there with the one Jak had used. Then he lay back and thought with intense concentration for nearly a quarter of an hour. Finally he raised his head with determination.

“I think we should try it. It seems safe, from all the evidence here. I have faith enough in Jak’s ability to trust him to have made the fluid correctly--his formula checks exactly with the one in the reels. And if it works, we can win out.”

Jon rose purposefully. “Right, Pop. Come on, Jak, let’s break out the pressure packs and get them hung.”

They went into the storeroom, and soon came back, each staggering under the weight and inconvenience of two packs. These they hung from the bulkhead hooks built into the ship for just that purpose, and made sure they were securely anchored.

“How much time after the injection before we blank out, Owl?” Jon asked then.

“A minute or so, I guess. Why?”

“Figuring how long I’ll have to handle the controls. A minute is plenty of time, as I can have everything set up, and only have one switch to throw.”

Mr. Carver reached out a hand and patted his wife’s cheek as she stood by his side. “It’s going to work out all right, Honey.” His voice was bright and assured. “These boys of ours are really up on their stuff.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I know they know what they are doing, and that you are checking them carefully. It is mainly my not knowing that makes me afraid sometimes.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I hate being the weak member of the party.”

“You’re nothing of the kind!” He grinned as the boys murmured protests which meant the same thing. “You’re the best fellow in the gang.” And he blew her a kiss as the boys helped him into his pack and saw to it that he was securely and comfortably strapped in. Then they did the same for their mother.

Jak went to his room and came back quickly with his hypodermic needles, and the bottles of glucose and concentrates. He put these beside the test tube with the new fluid.

Carefully he administered the dosage of nutrients to the other three, then lay down on his recline seat and gave himself his own dose. He rested there for a couple of minutes, then rose. Carefully he drew four cubic centimeters of the new, clear fluid into his needle, then approached his mother. “Ready?” he asked, smiling, but with tight lips.

She pushed up her left sleeve. “Ready, Son.” And now her voice was soft but steady.

He tipped the needle into the light, carefully expelled a couple of drops to make sure all air was out of the tube. Then quickly and with a sureness he had trouble making his hands achieve, he pushed the slim needle into her arm, and injected the drug. With the ball of his thumb he rubbed the puncture gently for a moment. “Sleep tight, Mother.” He smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

“Who’s next?” He turned to the others.

“Me, of course.” His father bared his arm. “Jon has to be awake last to handle the controls.”

Again Jak filled his needle, and as carefully as before he injected the sleeping drug into his father. Then he stepped up to the pilot’s pressure pack where his younger brother was adjusting the controls.

“Ready, Jon?”

“Just a sec.” The boy was still working, pushing in a button there, turning a switch here, stopping to tighten a wire or connection somewhere else. But in a few moments he had finished, and then rested his right hand on the handle of the master switch, ready to push it into contact.

But just as Jak brought the needle close to his arm the younger boy pushed it away. “Wait now, Jak. How about you? Can you make it to your pack and get in and strapped down and settled, and then give yourself the shot before I throw the switch and the five G’s take effect?”

“Don’t worry about me,” his brother said gruffly. “I’ll make out some way.”

“Not good enough,” Jon said positively. “Let’s figure this down to seconds. If I don’t close the switch before I black out, all this’ll be wasted. How about if you inject yourself first? Will you have time enough to give me my shot and then get back into your pack and strap down before you go under?”

Jak thought swiftly a moment. “Your point’s well taken, Jon, but you didn’t figure it right. Your way, I’d have to give you your injection besides doing all the rest in the same length of time. If I give you yours first, I can get into my pack and give myself mine there. You merely stay awake until I’m done.”

“Yes, guess you’re right. But fix your pack so you can be sure of getting in without any trouble.”

Jak did this, then came back, filled the needle and injected it into Jon’s arm.

Swiftly then he ran to his own pack, climbed in and fastened the straps. He filled the needle, plunged it into his arm, and pushed home the plunger.

Jon had been watching his brother, forcing back the drowsiness that sought to engulf him. As he saw Jak’s nod that all was done, he turned to his panel. A quick glance about his board with his fast-diminishing senses told him everything was on the green. With his last measure of consciousness, he rammed home the switch.

He settled back into a more comfortable position, and felt himself plunging down into the blackness of unconsciousness.

Jon felt himself coming awake, and his first, startled thought was,

“Didn’t the stuff work?”

He began to open his eyes ... and noticed at once how stiff his eyelids felt, but he forced them open. He looked at the date-clock and smiled with relief. The five days and several hours had passed, seemingly in an instant.

Now almost fully awake, his eyes sought the various meters, dials, gauges and telltales on his panel. Everything seemed to be working properly. He tuned in his receptor, and applied greater and still greater power. Space behind was blank of atomics.

Smiling thankfully and beginning to unloosen his straps, Jon now noticed how dry his mouth was, and that his skin felt dry, too, and feverish. But he had no headache, and his thoughts seemed to be functioning as clearly and swiftly as always.

“Boy, I sure need a bath and drink, and something to eat!” he thought--then realized that the others would be feeling the same way.

The others! He turned quickly to look at them. They were all still lying in their packs, somewhat pale, but with a peaceful, unstrained look on their faces.

Jon tried to rise, but reeled back and almost fell as he got onto his feet. He held himself erect a moment, and gradually felt a measure of strength returning.

As soon as he could, he went into the galley. Quickly he prepared a cup of instant broth, and drank it gratefully. Much refreshed, he made more of the consomme, and further enriched it with some anti-fatigue pills dissolved in the steaming liquid. He set four cups of it on a tray and carried them into the control room. His first quick glance showed the others beginning to stir.

“Morning, folks,” he called cheerily. “Soup’s on.”

They opened their eyes slowly, almost uncomprehendingly, but awareness came quickly, and his mother and brother sat up and fumbled at their straps.

“Did we make it?” his father called anxiously. But Jak noticed at once how weak his father’s voice sounded, and went across to his side.

“We sure did.” Jon smiled broadly. “We were out just a little over five days, and the receptors don’t show a thing behind. I woke up just a few minutes ahead of you, and that’s one of the first things I looked at. Then I found I was weak and dry, so I went out and made this broth.” He passed the cups and, as the others drank gratefully, Jon spoke again.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Owl. You sure fixed us fine this time.”

“He certainly did.” Mr. Carver spoke as forcefully as he could, having already privately warned Jak to say nothing of his weakened condition.

He looked solicitously over at his wife. “You all right, Marci?”

“Yes, I feel fine, now that I’ve had this good consomme Jon was so thoughtful as to make.” She smiled with real relief that they had all come through this dangerous experiment so successfully.

Mr. Carver turned to Jon. “It feels like we’re only at one gravity.”

“Yes, I rigged the automatics so they’d take care of that at the end of one hundred and twenty-five hours,” the boy explained. “Probably it was the relief from pressure that woke us, as well as the wearing off of the stuff Jak gave us.” Then he looked at his brother. “How come we’re not famished after five days? That little glucose and stuff you gave us wouldn’t last that long, would it?”