The Stowaway Read online

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  The Stowaway

  By Alvin Heiner

  _He stole a ride to the Moon in search of glory, but found a far different destiny._

  His eyes were a little feverish--as they had been of late--and his voiceheld a continuous intensity--as though he were imparting a secret. "I'vegot to get on that ship! I've got to, I tell you! And I'm going to makeit!"

  Different members of the group regarded him variously, some withamusement, some with contempt, others with frank curiosity.

  "You're plain nuts, Joe. What do you want to go to the Moon for?"

  "Sure, why you wanna go? What they got on the Moon we ain't got righthere?"

  There was general laughter from the dozen or so who sat eating theirlunch in the shade of Building B. They all thought that was a prettygood one. Good enough to repeat. "Sure, what they got on the Moon weain't got here?"

  But Joe Spain wasn't in the mood for jokes. He burned with even greaterconviction and stood up as though to harangue the workers. "You wantaknow why I got to go to the Moon? Why I've got to get on that ship? ThenI'll tell you. It's 'cause I'm a little guy--that's why! JoeSpain--working stiff--one of the great inarticulate masses."

  More laughter. "Where'd you get those big words, Joey? Out of a book?Come on--talk English!"

  Joe Spain pointed to the huge, tubelike Building A, off across thedesert; the building you had to have two different passes and a writtenpermit to enter. The mystery building where even newspaper reporterswere barred. "It's only the big shots they let in there ain't it? Onlythem that's got a drag or went to college or something. Us little guysthey tell go to blow--ain't that right?"

  "Who the hell cares? Maybe it's a damn good place to stay away from.Maybe it'll explode or something. Who wants to die and collect hisinsurance?"

  "I got to get on that ship when it blasts off because they can't pushthe masses around! We got a right to be represented even if we got tosneak in!"

  "Me--I'll stay on the ground."

  "And besides there's the glory! You guys are too stupid to see that butit's there. The glory of being on the first rocket ship to the Moon. Thename of Joe Spain written down in the history books and said over bypeople and school kids for thousands of years! Immortality! That's theword!"

  "Well, just forget about it, Joe, 'cause you ain't going."

  Joe Spain's eyes burned brighter. "Joe Spain, coming down the ramp withthe big shots when it's all over. News cameras snapping! People askingfor interviews!"

  "But you ain't going 'cause--"

  Joe shouted the man down. "And another thing. Us little people areentitled to a representative aboard that ship. We got a right to knowwhat's going on. How come there's nothing about it in the papers? Onlythe big shots knowing about it and whispering among themselves? It'sbecause they're trying to snag it all and freeze us out!"

  "You're crazy. It's for security reasons. It's all hush-hush so it won'tleak out like the atom bomb did. The big boys are being smart thistime."

  "And you ain't getting on," the interrupted man repeated doggedly,"because there ain't a way in God's world to _get_ on. With triplesecurity all around the building, just tell me a way to get in. Justtell me one."

  "I'm going to get on that ship," Joe Spain said. Then he clammed upsuddenly. Joe Spain wasn't stupid. He was a talker, but he knew when tostop sounding off.

  The men went back to work shifting the big aluminum barrels from trucksinto Building B. Carrying the wooden crates and the paper-wrappedparcels up the ramps and to the side of the building facing the bigsecret structure labeled A. They worked until five o'clock. Then theyfiled out and got into the waiting trucks and were hauled back to town;the boom town that had mushroomed up in the desert overnight and woulddie with the same swiftness when the project was completed.

  * * * * *

  Joe went straight to his rooming house, washed up, put on his goodclothes, and found a stool in a nearby restaurant. He ate a leisurelysupper, glancing now and again at the clock. When the clock read eight,he went out into the neon-stained darkness and walked three blocks tothe Black Cat, one of the three night clubs the desert town boasted. Hewent to the bar and ordered a drink. He downed it slowly, carefully,after the manner of a man who wanted to stay sober.

  A half-hour passed before a thin, nervous individual elbowed to the barand stood beside him. Joe said. "Hello, Nick. You been thinking itover?"

  "I need a drink."

  "Sure, Nick. Then we'll go some place and talk." But Nick got rid offive drinks while Joe protected his own glass from the barkeep. After awhile, Joe said, "I'm willing to up the price, Nick. Two thousand--cash.All I got."

  "Le's get out o' here," Nick mumbled.

  They walked out of the town and into the desert, Nick stumbling now andagain, to be supported by the tense, sober Joe. "Two thousand, Nick. Youneed the dough."

  "Sure. Need the dough. But it wouldn't work. Couldn't get you into oneo' them barrels."

  "You wouldn't have to. All I ask is that you come along in the morningand seal me up in one. All you'll have to do is lock on the lid."

  "How you know the barrels are going on the ship?"

  "Never mind about that. I just know. I paid to find out."

  "Okay--suppose you do get on the ship in a barrel. Maybe it'll be storedin a hold somewhere. Maybe they wouldn't open it very soon. You'd die."

  "I got a way to get out. One of them special torches. The little ones.Aluminum isn't very strong. I can cut it like butter."

  "It'd be hot. You'd burn yourself."

  "Let me worry about that," Joe said fiercely. "You want the two grand ornot?"

  Nick wanted the two thousand and he was against the wall for excuses.Then he had a happy thought. "Barrels is air-tight. You'd smother.Thing's im--impracac'l. We'll forget it."

  "I won't smother. I'm taking my own oxygen. Enough to last me clear tothe Moon if it has to. Come on. Break down!"

  "Okay. For two grand. Got to have the dough now though."

  His heart singing, Joe Spain counted out two thousand in cash. When he'dfinished he had exactly nine dollars left. He was a pauper. But thehappiest pauper who ever bought with his whole fortune the thing hecraved most.

  "You won't double-cross me now, will you? If you've got any ideas likethat--"

  "I'll do like we said. Nick Sparks never went back on his word--never.But how you going to stay hid when it's time to leave work?"

  "Leave that to me. It'll be easy. They don't check Building B too close.No double check 'cause it's over a mile from Building A--outside thesafety perimeter. I'll stay in tomorrow night and I'll put a littlechalk-mark on the barrel I'm in--right near the top rim. First thing youdo when you come to work the next morning is seal it and line it up withthe filled ones."

  "Okay, but I gotta go home now. I got a head. I gotta get some sleep."

  * * * * *

  "What's in the duffel bag?"

  "Clean overalls--towel." Joe pulled the zipper down halfway. The guardfingered the blue denim but didn't dig deeper to find the towel. Hechecked Joe's badge number, made a note on his pad, and motioned to thenext worker. Joe let tight breath slowly out of his lungs as he walkedtoward Building B. Getting past the guard was a load off his mind. He'dexpected to get by, but it was one of the calculated risks that couldhave stopped him cold.

  Once inside the building, he put the bag into his locker and went towork. He labored briskly and carried more than his share of the load.But now and again he stopped to look over at the outline of Building A,limned hard against hot blazing sky. And each time it was with a senseof heady exhilaration that he thought of his dest
iny--his hard-earned,dearly bought destiny. To be among that select group who would first setfoot upon the surface of the Moon!

  He had no worries about not being allowed to do so. Once he showedhimself--with the ship far out in space--they'd have to accept him. Notgraciously of course, but they'd have to admire his courage andtenacity. They could not, in all humanity, deny him a share of thevictory.

  The day wore on and as quitting time approached, he became moretense--more alert. Five minutes before the whistle, he faded back intothe building and hurried to the lavatory. He went into the boothfurthest from the entrance and locked the door. Now there was nothing todo but wait. Another of the calculated risks.

  The whistle blew. Almost immediately, the sound of footsteps broke thesilence and the lavatory was filled with hurrying men. Their stay in theroom was short, however, as Joe had known it would be. Men leaving forhome do not dawdle on the premises.

  The lavatory was empty again. A period of silence while Joe raised hisfeet from the floor and braced them on the toilet seat. The entrancedoor opened. A guard making the departure checkup.

  Joe held his breath. If the guard came down the line and tried the door,he was finished. But Joe had banked upon human nature. The guardstopped. For a long moment there was no sound and Joe knew the man wasbending over to run his eyes down the line of toilets close to thefloor. In this manner he could see the floor of every booth. The guardstraightened, turned, walked out. The door closed. Silence. Joe's heartswelled with gratitude. He grinned, looking forward with joy to the longnight ahead.

  He found a spot over behind the barrels where the night watchman wouldhave to climb over a lot of equipment in order to find him. He madehimself comfortable, practically certain the guard would not do this. Hestretched out on the hard floor and recorded the passing of the hours bythe number of times the watchman went through.

  And he was surprised at how fast the time passed. Finally, checking hiscount carefully, he left his hiding place and tiptoed to the line oflockers. He took the oxygen equipment from the duffel bag after which hehid the bag and the clothing therein behind a wall flange in a farcorner. Then he climbed into the barrel at the front end of the packingline. He checked the barrel with a small X, and jockeyed the lid intoplace.

  * * * * *

  Time passed. Nothing happened. He wondered, if he'd missed on the timeelement. The men should certainly have come to work now. More than oncehe was tempted to push the barrel lid aside and check the situation.When footsteps sounded, close by, and the lid snapped firmly into place,he was glad he hadn't done so. Good old Nick! When he got back from theMoon, he'd see to it that Nick got credit for his courageous act.

  Soon the barrel began to move. Joe felt it rise into the air and settlewith a thump. Then the motor of a truck roared and Joe knew where he wasgoing. Straight toward Building A and the Moon rocket. There was moremovement until finally the barrel was set down for what appeared to bethe last time. Joe put the nose-piece of the oxygen tube into place andvisualized himself safe and snug in a storage room of the rocket.

  He closed his eyes and went peacefully to sleep.

  He slept a long time, to be awakened by a crushing--a wrenching--thatall but drove his head down into his spine. The pain brought him sharplyalert. He knew instantly what had happened.

  _Blast-off._

  He braced himself against the sides of the barrel, and gritted histeeth.

  Soon it was better. Then no pressure at all. Only the fierce happinesson his heart. He'd set a course and won through! He was on the way tothe Moon!

  Joe let plenty of time elapse. He knew it was well over an hour laterwhen he unlimbered the torch to cut an escape-hole in the barrel. This,he knew, would be tricky. He could easily burn himself. The heat wouldbe intense.

  But it wasn't too bad. The aluminum cut quickly, and in a matter ofminutes he was standing beside his barrel. As he'd suspected, it was astorage hold. The pitch-darkness did not bother him. He'd come preparedwith a small pencil flash that threw an adequate beam.

  He found the door, opened it and went out into a long passageway....

  * * * * *

  Now he'd covered the length and breadth of the ship. He'd found a lot ofrooms--all in pitch-darkness. No observation ports.

  _And no living thing._

  He stood frozen in one of the rooms while the beam of his flash pickedout a code stenciled on a steel plate over some piece of machinery.X59-306MY--Experimental--Explosion Rocket--Moon.

  The flash dropped from Joe Spain's fingers. He stood in thepitch-darkness while the jets vibrated through the rocket.

  But there was no fear in him. Only the great pain of futility. Only histears, and his whispered words:

  "They'll never know. Nobody won't ever know!"

  THE END

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ March 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.