Three Survived

Chapter 15

Late the next day the aliens in front of them stopped short in the path. They began to point and cry out in loud thumping sounds.

“It’s the rescue beacon!” Rand said. “We’ve reached the beacon!”

“Give me the converter,” Leswick told him.

Rand switched the instrument on and handed it to the philosopher. Leswick walked forward. The beacon was a tall metal cone standing in a little opening in the forest.

“There is our Mother,” Leswick announced loudly. “We thank you for your help. You must go back now. You may not approach our Mother more closely.”

For good measure he made the announcement twice more. The aliens bent low to pay respects to the Mother of the Earthmen.

“We wish you well, strange ones,” one of them said. “We hope you return soon to your hive. Farewell.”

“Farewell, and thanks,” Leswick said.

The aliens backed away into the jungle and began to move down the path toward their village. In a few minutes there was no sign of them. The three Earthmen stood together in front of the beacon.

The beacon was an impressive gadget. Rand could see why the aliens might think it was alive. Its bright red pilot light looked like a giant eye. Mounted around its middle were infrared heat-rays to keep the jungle growth from getting too close. Every few weeks the heat-rays turned themselves on, cooking any plant life that was starting to sprout. The beacon was huge, gleaming, awesome.

“So we made it,” Leswick said. “There was a time when I was sure we’d never get here.”

“When was that?” asked Rand.

“When you were leading us in the jungle. I wondered if Dombey and I were going to get control over you in time. Before you fouled us all up, that is. You stopped being of much use about the time we landed on this planet, Rand. You were nothing but a drag—nothing but dead weight.”

“That’s kind of you to tell me.”

“It’s true, though. I mean that logic and technical knowhow can get people only so far.”

Rand scowled. He had tried to run everything as logically and intelligently as he could. But somehow he had come out of the journey looking to Leswick and Dombey like a total idiot. He knew that he wouldn’t have made it here alive without both of them.

“Are you saying that logical thinking is worthless?” he asked.

Leswick shook his head. “Logical thinking is necessary and valuable, Rand. But it doesn’t take you the whole journey. In the jungle, we needed sheer animal instinct. Dombey had it. You didn’t. Dombey can’t do solid geometry, but he’s got survival ability.”

“I suppose so.”

“And in dealing with an alien race, logic doesn’t always work too well either. Not if they don’t think logically too. We needed a kind of logic-plus-intuition. Guesswork, if you like the word. And that’s what Metaphysical Synthesis trains people to use.”

Rand was silent. He kicked the ground in annoyance.

For the first time in his life, he felt his faith in his own ability waver. He had always been so confident that he could take care of himself, no matter what.

Not here, though.

How smug I was! I thought I was the all-important man! I thought Dombey was a dope and Leswick was a fraud. And I’d be dead without both of them now.

It hurt to think about it. Especially when he remembered how he had been putting the other two down, at the beginning. How he had congratulated himself again and again for his brains and his cleverness.

“Well?” Leswick asked.

“Well what?”

“How long are you going to stand there daydreaming?” the little man asked impatiently. “There’s the rescue beacon, you know.”

Rand still paused, tied up in his thoughts.

“We’re waiting for you,” Leswick said. “You don’t think I know how to operate a machine, do you?”

It sounded sarcastic. Maybe it was. Rand smiled faintly and stepped forward to the signal beacon.

The beacon showed signs of half a century’s exposure to the weather. But generally it was in fine shape. Its metal skin was clear and shiny except for a few stains and scratches. The pilot light was on, proving that the beacon was in working order.

Operating the beacon wasn’t really very hard. Even Leswick could have done it. There was a big button in the middle of the beacon’s side. Under it was a long label that declared in many languages:

Rand pressed the button.

That switched on a special-space transmitter. The transmitter sent an alarm signal to the nearest rescue station.

Almost instantly a deep voice said, “Rescue service speaking. State your name and location.”

“This is Space Engineer Tom Rand, of Earth. I’m on a planet called Tuesday in the system of star number GGC 8788845.”

“Okay,” said the Rescue Service man. “I’ve got you plotted on my chart already. How’d you get there?”

“I was on the Clyde F. Bohmer. The overdrive blew up and destroyed the ship.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s down on the rescue list.”

“I escaped in a lifeship and landed here,” Rand said.

“You’re the first Bohmer survivor to call in. We’ll have a rescue ship your way in a day or two. You all alone?”

“No,” Rand said. “I’m with Anthony Leswick and William Dombey. As far as I know, the three of us are the only survivors.”

The voice at the other end was silent for a moment. “Leswick … Dombey … I’ve got the Bohmer’s passenger list right here. Yeah, here they are. Dombey’s a crewman, huh? Leswick—Dombey … A metaphysical whatsit and a jetmonkey. You must have had a heck of a rough time with those two, huh?”

“It wasn’t bad,” Rand said.

“I mean, running a lifeship with all that dead weight aboard. And afterwards. Couple of guys like that, they must have been pretty useless when things got tight. A lot of good those two must have been! Dead weight!”

Rand frowned. He looked around at Dombey and Leswick, who weren’t close enough to hear what was being said. He thought of trying to explain things to the Rescue Service man. Trying to tell him how it really had been.

What was the use? The other man would never understand.

“Yeah,” Rand said quietly. “All that dead weight!”