In just a moment, X minus one. But first, there's a certain water commissioner whose interest in the ladies sometimes overshadows his interest in civic affairs. His name is a familiar one, Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve, and he'll pursue his adventures tomorrow night when NBC Radio presents another comic episode of The Great Gildersleeve. So when you hear the familiar voice and hearty laugh of the water commissioner from Summerfield tomorrow, why, stay tuned and enjoy another romantic scramble with the one and only The Great Gildersleeve on this NBC station. And I'll stay tuned for X minus one on NBC. Countdown for blast off. X minus five, four, three, two, X minus one, fire. From the far horizons of the unknown come transcribed tales of new dimensions in time and space. These are stories of the future, adventures in which you'll live in a million could be years on a thousand maybe worlds. The National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine presents X minus one. Tonight's story, The Seachute by Isaac Asimov. We were on our way home to Earth when it happened. Six of us coming home as passengers aboard the merchant spaceship Starfire at the start of the Second Interstellar War, the one between Earth and the planet Chloral. And then it happened. Now hear this, condition red, condition red, we are under attack from a Chloran battle cruiser all hands forward to battle stations. Passengers will remain confined to the after cabin. Condition red, we are being attacked. The interception by the Chloran cruiser, the murderous running jewel of energy blasts and force field defenses. We huddled in the passengers after cabin terrified not knowing how the battle was going. We could hear the desperate bursts of steam through the steering tubes as the Starfire maneuvered to dodge the enemy attacks. And then... Now what? The beginning of the end you might call it. What does it mean Stuart? You were a space pilot? It means our generators have been drained of energy. We can't fight back. But Monsieur... Don't worry, they won't destroy us. They need our ship too badly. They'll simply board us and take over. But what about the crew? The crew, Colonel? If they have any sense, they'll surrender. If they choose to fight, they'll... Now they're coming aboard. Now be very still. Oh my darling, heaven help us. Would you be still? If only those fools on deck will surrender without a struggle. They are fighting. Yes, it's the end. We've got to help them. All right, don't open that door. We just can't let them die. You can't help them. I'm going. Stop him. All right. Aristide, shut the door quickly. Aristide, my brother. That poor fool. Get them. My brother, I swear to God, get them. Yeah, you better cover his body. The brutes. The monstrous green skinned brutes. They're no more brutes than we are, Colonel. This is a war. Are you defending them? I'm merely pointing out the facts. I ought to strangle you. Why not save it for the chloro. I will. I promise you I will. They're probably deciding right now what to do with us. We might as well settle down and wait. We sat there, the five of us, and listened while the chloran invaders killed off the members of the Starfire's crew. Among us was Colonel Anthony Wyndham, an old Colonel blimp type with a lame leg. Wyndham had spent his life in the militia back on Earth, but had never seen a battle. There was Demetrius Polyarchetus, who had just watched his brother being killed by a chlorocarbonizer. Poly was a huge man. He and his brother had tried truck farming and arcturus and given it up after two seasons. Then there was LeBlanc, a sensitive, frightened young man of 22, and Randolph Mullin, who looked like somebody's caricature of a bookkeeper. A mild, balding, milk toast little man. And there was myself, John Stewart. I was the only one who'd ever had contact with the chloro people. I had a pair of artiplasm hands to prove it. It is quiet now. Yeah, they've finished with the crew. Mr. Stewart. Yes, Mr. Mullin. What do you think will happen next? Well, they'll put a prize crew of two aboard and take us to one of their home planets as prisoners of war. Only two of the chloros will stay aboard? Two is all they'll need. Why, Colonel, you're thinking of leading a gallant raid to retake the ship? Well, simply a point of information, Dasher. All right, then let me give you another point of information. If you want to commit suicide quick, just open that bulkhead door. Three steps inside, you'd fall on your face. But why? Don't you smell anything, LeBlanc? Get close to the door. It smells like gas. It is gas. Chlorine gas. They breathe it like we breathe oxygen. They've chlorinated the whole crew's compartment. One big whiff of that and we'd all be dead. Just forget about rushing the chloros. How do you know so much about their habits, Stuart? I lived on a chloro planet for six months. You see these hands? They were mangled in the oxygenating machinery of my own quarters. They grew these artiplasm things and operated. They're weak, but at least I have hands again. Mr. Stewart. Will they... will they kill us? No. Why do you say that? Because in their own way, they're gentlemen. Probably will be interned for the duration. You call them gentlemen. After they kill my brother in cold blood, you call them gentlemen. You know, Stuart, you sound more and more like a blasted greenie sympathizer. Blast it, man. Where's your patriotism and loyalty? My loyalty is where it belongs, with honesty and decency, regardless of the shape of the being it appears in. This is a ridiculous war. Why are we fighting these people? We can live only on planets with oxygen, and oxygen is poison to them. They can live only in chlorine atmosphere, which is deadly to us. Yet we're fighting them over a bunch of worthless asteroids that neither of us can live uncomfortably. Well, it's a matter of principle. It's a matter of stupid pride and greed. I don't like what you say, Mr. Stewart. Why not? Because you talk too nice about these greenie scum. They're good to you, eh? Well, they weren't good to my brother. They killed him. And I think maybe I'll kill you, you rotten greenie scum. Hold it! Mullen, Mullen, grab him. I can't break his hold. They are coming in. Holy, let him go. They saved your life this time. But when I'm finished with them... What? I think they're opening the lock. Well, don't get between us. Holy, don't lose your head. They'll kill us all. I greet you, Earthmen. The chloro was not a pleasant sight to anyone unused to him. He was about the height of an Earthman, but the top of him was just a green stalk with eyes. He was still wearing a space suit to protect him from the oxygen in our compartment. In one of his tendrils, he carried a chloran gun. As he stood in the doorway, I could see Polyarchete his eyes begin to glisten with rage. Then, with a bellow like a huge bully, threw himself at the chloro. He is not dead. Merely temporarily paralyzed. You five will remain together as prisoners of war. We expect to reach our own planet within several weeks, your time. There you will be interned for the duration of the war. If any of you attempts to leave this compartment, we shall be forced to destroy you. That is all I have to communicate. Hadn't we better do something for Mr. Polyarchete? He'll be all right. Just hoist him up in the cot. Absolutely. Hi, Poly. Can you hear me, you stupid brute? His voice is coming back. Now, I know what's going on in that thick skull of yours, Poly. You think that when the paralysis wears off, you'll ease your feelings by slamming me around some more. Well, if you do, it'll be curtains for all of us. How do you mean, sir? None of you know the chloros the way I do. Unlike us, they assume automatically that any group of Earthmen they find together comprises a biological grouping, like an ant colony. The result is that they consider the group as something, well, something holy. Now, they'd never break us up. And if one of us did any harm to another, they'd have us all executed as a bunch of chlorotype perverts, a non-functioning group. So call all the names you want, but keep your hands to yourself or we're finished. My little speech had a sobering effect on the group. For the next 24 hours, we did little besides eat our rations and think. I tried to evaluate them. The colonel I had figured for an old windbag. Polyarchetus was a hate-filled brute. LeBlanc would crack first. He was like a frightened child. Mullen? Mullen was a nonentity, a mouse instead of a man. Everything he did seemed prissy-ish. His voice had the quality of furtively rustling underbrush. How long did you say the trip would take, Mr. Stewart? Well, the chloro said about two weeks. Gentlemen, if I may interrupt. Colonel? Now, it has occurred to me that perhaps you know of some weakness that might enable us to overcome these chloros. The only weakness they've got is that they can't stand oxygen. Oh, but there must be some way to get the best of the man. After all, there are only two. Now, look, before I answer, Colonel, I have to know your motive. Is it to save your own skin or help Earth win the war? Oh, Dashie's man, to help our side, of course. What we're looking for is a way to save the ship for Earth without losing our lives, yes? Well, all right, let's take a vote, then. LeBlanc? I...I have a wife waiting on Earth, Mr. Stewart. I do not want to die. Uh-huh. Hero number one. What about you, Mullen? I don't see how we could accomplish it without... Uh-huh. Hero number two. Well, Paulioketus, when I kill chloros, it will be with my bare hands. On their planet, I will kill dozens, I promise you. Uh-huh. Three down. Well, Colonel, don't you want to march to glory, an old militia man like you? Your attitude is very cynical, and I'm becoming Stewart. I see. Well, then I'll have to blow the ship up myself. Stewart! Don't worry, Colonel. I don't intend to be a dead hero. Of course. There is a way we might do it. What did you say, Mr. Mullen? There's a space suit and magnetic boots stored in that locker over there. We might be able to reach the control room from the outside of the ship. The outside? But how would we get outside? This compartment has a sea chute. It must. What is a sea chute? A sea chute, my boy, is a casualty chute. It doesn't get talked about much, but all the main compartments have them. They're just little airlocks down which you slide a corpse, burial in space. Oh, blast it, Mullen. Suppose you did get outside. How could you re-enter the ship? Through the steam tubes, the ones they use to guide the ship. Wait a minute, Mullen. What do you know about steam tubes? I thought you were a bookkeeper. Well, on Arcturus, I got interested in spaceship models. I studied all about them. On my own time, of course. Yeah, yeah, naturally. At any rate, I learned that the steam tubes have an access vent directly to the control room for repairs and so forth. And the clovers, they are in the control room. What do you think, Stewart? Well, it's a video sort of idea, but it might just work. We could get permission from the chloros to open the sea chute and bury Paulie's brother. Then one of us could slip into it, work forward, and climb up through the steam tube. The question being which one? What about you? You with your loud talking and your sneeze. I'm no hero, Paulie. I've already said that. My object is to stay alive. If the steam tube let go while you were in it, you'd be broiled like a lobster. Now, how about the colonel here? If I were younger, blasted, I'd trounce you, you know, very well with my injured leg. Yeah, of course, not to mention my artificial hands. Well, now, what unfortunate deformities do the rest of us have? Paulie? You just keep talking, Mr. Bigmouth, and pretty soon we'll kick your teeth in. Of course. That's your standard reply to everything, isn't it? LeBlanc, will you do it? I... I cannot. Not even to get back to Denise? Please, I cannot. LeBlanc, needn't go. I'll do it. What? After all, it is my idea. Wait a minute. Are you serious, Mullen? Yes. Well, how? I don't understand. Why? Why you? Well, it seems no one else will do it. But that's no reason, man. I can't think of any other. Look here. Do you really intend to go through with it, sir? Yes, I suppose I do. Well, dash it, man. Let me shake your hand. You... you're an earthman by heaven. You do this thing and win or die. I'll bear witness for you. It was quite a moment. Mullen the mouse had suddenly turned into a man. He just stood there awkwardly while the Colonel puffed his hands. Paulier Kiedis seemed stunned. LeBlanc was wide-eyed. And I? Well, I was in a peculiar position, one which I rarely found myself. I had absolutely nothing to say. That ought to bring them. I hear one. What is it, earthman? One member of our unit is dead, as you know. We request permission to jettison his body out of the casualty chute. You may do so. You'll have to open the chute lock from the control room. I will do so. Is there anything else? No. Nothing else. Thank you. Oh, boy. All right, come on now. We'll have to work fast. Mullen, get into a space suit from the emergency locker. Paulie, help Mom with those magnetic boots. How do you...? I'm working as fast as I can. They aren't. All right, give me the helmet. Okay. Now, Mullen, you'd better scratch your nose if you have to. It's your last chance for a while. What about radio contact? You can talk to us. We're listening on the helmet set in one of the other suits. The chloroze won't have their set on the interphone frequency. Wait a moment. What for? Dash it. What's he going to use for a weapon? He isn't big enough to fight them bare-handed. Oh, no, that's true. Well, how about one of those oxygen cylinders? Good idea. Use it to bash them over the head. Now, give him one of the cylinders equipped with a reducing valve. Now, look, Mullen, if your magnetic boots fail and you start drifting away into space, open this valve. See that? Now, you can use it like a miniature jet and try to blow yourself back to the ship. Understand? I think so. Well, I only hope it works. All right, here goes the helmet. You'd better hurry. The light is on over the sea chute. All right. That means they've opened the lock. Here. Now, can you hear me? I can hear you. LeBlanc, give me that other space helmet. Here. Let me switch on the radio. Can you hear me, Mullen? I hear you. Fine. Want any air? Air's okay. Polly, open the sea chute. Okay, now help him in. All ready? Ready. Pull the ejector valve. Now. He's out. Oh, God, help him. The light is out. Yeah. The chloro's have closed the chute lock. I... I don't suppose he has much of a chance. No. Do you think... do you think he knew it? I don't know. I just don't know. I... I try to contact him on the radio. Yes, I think... wait a minute. What is it? Listen, the chloro's coming. Good Lord, he's sure to miss Mullen. Polly, get your brother's body on the cot. Put a blanket over it. Pretend it's Mullen asleep. Polly, for heaven's sake. My brother. You've got to do it, man. It's our only chance. Listen, if Mullen could go out there and risk his... Very well. I will do it. He... Earthman. Yes. You have jettisoned the body. Yes. Good. Is there something further we can do? No, I... We are very tired. Our grief is very great at losing one of our unit. We would like to rest alone. I will respect your wishes. I see that one of your unit sleeps already. Yes, yes, Mr. Mullen. Mullen was overcome with grief. I leave you. Oh, brother. Polly, I thought sure you were going to rush him. With that brave little guy out there. What do you think I am anyway? And to think I laughed at him. Makes me ashamed. Yeah, I guess... I guess I've been saying some things that maybe weren't too funny. I'm sorry. Do you think it's safe to try the radio? Yeah, we better. Hello. Hello, Mullen. Can you hear me? Yes, I hear you. Where are you? I'm standing on the outside of the ship. All right, now take care. One misstep and you'll be marooned in space. Now, can you find the steam tubes? I think I've found one of them already. I can't remember the name. I don't know. I don't know. I don't see one of them already. I can feel the rim. I just hope it doesn't let go when I get inside. Be careful. I'm going into the tube now. I can feel the ladder rungs I used to repair the inside. Keep in contact. I'm in the tube now. Good Lord. They've let go with a blast. Well, it may be the starboard tubes. Mullen, Mullen. They use the other tubes, fortunately. Now, if they don't try to correct for over deflection... Yeah, keep moving. I seem to be...wait. Yes, I'm at the end of the tube now. Where it opens into the control room. Good, good. Now look, there's a small metal door there. Can you feel it? Yes, I... I'm afraid it's locked from the other side. I can't budge it. Mullen, Mullen, listen to me. Stuart, I'm scared. I'm terribly scared. All right, all right, now hang on. Don't blow up. Listen to me. Are you listening? Yes. Take the spare oxygen tank. Bang on the metal door that leads to the control room. The chloros are bound to hear you. When one of them comes to investigate, try to hit him with a cylinder. Now aim for the stalk on top of his body. Try to blind him. Will you do that? I'll try. Well, now go on. Only one can come. The other will stay at the controls. Now start banging. Any luck? No, I... Wait, I hear something. Something's opening the lock. The door now. I hear... Mullen! Mullen, what happened? Mullen, can you hear me? Mullen! Mullen! Mullen! Oh, it's no use. They must have gotten him. He was one brave little guy, that one. But suppose they have just got him in the control room. I mean, maybe he is not dead. Well, then maybe one of us could rush them. We could bang on the door and jump the chloro. Well, the first guy would be a cinch to die. Well, I... I would be willing to take the chance. You? Why not? I could try. Thank you. I'm the strongest. I'd do it. Now listen, listen, you chaps. I'm an old man. I've got nothing to live for anyway. Suppose I throw myself at the ray gun. Wait a minute, what's going on here? Twenty minutes ago there wasn't one of you who'd risk his little finger to get us out of here. Now you're falling all over each other. Maybe Mr. Mullen teaches us a lesson, huh? Yeah. Okay, Polly, give me the wrench. I'll start banging on the door. They say that selflessness is contagious. I guess maybe it is. I'd been a cynic all my life. A man who believed in nothing. Well, I'd come face to face with four human beings who proved that I'd been living a lie. I knew what I was going to do now. When the Chloro came to investigate our compartment, I had it all planned. If only my poor weak hands would hold out long enough. Ready? Ready. Here goes. That should bring him. Try again. Wait, wait, listen. Shh. He's at the door. Get ready. It's opening the lock. Poor old Mullen now. Steady. No! Let him out! Wait! Stop it! It's not the Chloro! Good Lord! It's Mullen! Get the helmet off. That's it. Time to lift. Mullen? Mullen, are you all right? I seem to be quite all right. Well, the Chloro's. He's dead. At least I hope so. What happened? Well, I banged on a steam tube hatch and a Chloro opened it. Yeah? I hit him with a cylinder. It blinded him, I guess, but didn't kill him. He grabbed me and pulled me into the cabin. In the struggle, he broke my transmitter. That's why I couldn't talk to you. Finally, I managed to club him down. What about the other one? The other one almost got me. I was so powerful and came into the cabin with a ray gun. What I did, I guess, was pure reflex. The cabin atmosphere was chlorine, of course, and the greenie didn't have a space suit on. So I just turned on the oxygen valve in that spare tube. It was like spraying an insect with poison. Well, you're a brave man, Mullen. I'd have been scared to death. I... Mullen, what is it? Mullen, my boy. An hour later, false hands and all, I was at the controls of the ship headed for Earth. We'd gotten rid of the chlorinating equipment and restored the oxygen naturally. Mullen was asleep in the cabin under a sedative, or so I thought and opened the door. Mullen, for Pete's sake, get back to bed. No, I'm quite all right now, really. Do you mind if I watch how you operate the ship? Oh, no, not at all. Sit down. You know, I guess I owe you an apology. I didn't think too much of you. That's your privilege. No, it isn't anybody's privilege, Mullen, to despise another. For years now, I've abandoned hope for finding any decency in human beings. I owe you a vote of thanks. You embarrass me, Mr. Stewart. I didn't do it for any heroic reasons, I assure you. Far from it. Well, why did you do it, Mullen? That puzzles me very much. Well, Mr. Stewart, I'm a bookkeeper. Seventeen years ago, I left Earth to work on Arcturus. I never made much impression on it. I never made much impression on anybody on Earth, although I wanted very much to have people like me. Well, about a year ago, I started to write to my family again. Don't ask me why. And then, I asked for a leave of absence to go home after seventeen years. Well, I still don't understand. It wasn't patriotism or the love of a woman or money or any of those things. What was it? Mr. Stewart, haven't you ever been homesick? In the bloodiest and most ferocious arena of all prehistoric Earth, where hunting reptile heavyweights is no job for human lightweights, Galaxy Magazine, on your newsstand today. Tonight, by transcription, X-1 has brought you The Sea Shoot, a story from the pages of Galaxy written by Isaac Asimov, and adapted for radio by George Lefferts. Featured in the cast were Lyle Sudrell, Stan Early, Bob Hastings, Mercer McCloud, Danny Aucol, and John Gibson. Your announcer, Bill McCord. X-1 was directed by Daniel Sutter and is an NBC Radio Network production. Next week on a distant planet in a forgotten colony of Earth, a man is ordered to commit a murder. Listen to Skulking Permit on X-1 next week.
