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Fantascience Digest, v. 3, issue 1, whole no. 12, January-February 1940
Page 6
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Page 6 FANTASCIENCE DIGEST will destroy that base and return. That is all." "Me -- do that with one mole? It must be very powerful." A buzzer drummed its song on the General's desk. He flipped a switch and listened to the voice that came from the speaker. "I'll be right over," he said. He rose, and made ready to go, then suddenly recalled Lieutenant J standing there. "You have four hours before the test starts. Suppose you come with me." "Where?" "At the far end of passage AB-24, where digging is still underway, a buried space ship has been found. It is very old. It may be so oldthat it actually comes from the civilization that existed before the War of the Beginning." "Really?" Lieutenant J was not enthusiastic. Even if it were a relic, so rare, of that civilization that had existed on Earth before the war that had destroyed everything, 15,000 years ago, he failed to become interested. He had suddenly become very tired. He was going to go out on a test job, and he would probably never come back, so who cared about pre-civilization space ships? He would never come back, and he didn't care. Perhaps that was what he had wanted all the time. That emptiness that wouldn't be filled, the harrowing of the war noises, the lassitude that crept over him -- he was tired, and all he wanted to do was to sit for a million years and not move, and not have to do anything but sit. Perhaps that was the solution -- go out and not come back. It was easier than keeping on with the routine when he was so tired and he couldn't find out what that was he wanted. The car that had carried him and the General to the end of the new passage ground to a halt. The O.M. stalked past the guards and surveyed the uncovered roundness of the metal hulk. How long ago was it that it had crashed? And now it was there, buried under yards and yards of rock and dirt. Lieutenant J followed the General into the ship. The crash could not have been very heavy. Most of the machinery within was still intact. There were vague shapes on the floor, shrouded in dust, but of unmistakable outline. Bodies might go in 15,000 years, but bones still remained. The General disappeared into the dusk of the rear chamber, his flashlight prowling around the engine. Lieutenant J went forward, peering half-heartedly at the furnishings and mechanisms, his mind neither here nor there, but in an empty state without thought. Why bother thinking? Everything would be over soon, and he wouldn't have to wonder anymore what had been left out of him. A device caught his eye, and he walked over to it. The thing was a pair of spools, with a tape running between them and through some mechanism. The shape was different, but Lieutenant J knew what a tape running through a machine was for. He had listened to music from a device like that, long ago, But he had gotten tired of it. There has been no good music. Nothing satisfying, like meat and wine. Just spices and sweets. He idly wondered what sort of music they had before The Beginning. He took a testing instrument from his side pouch and made contact with the leads from the machine with the tape and spools. He read his instrument, removed it, and clamped battery leads to the
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Page 6 FANTASCIENCE DIGEST will destroy that base and return. That is all." "Me -- do that with one mole? It must be very powerful." A buzzer drummed its song on the General's desk. He flipped a switch and listened to the voice that came from the speaker. "I'll be right over," he said. He rose, and made ready to go, then suddenly recalled Lieutenant J standing there. "You have four hours before the test starts. Suppose you come with me." "Where?" "At the far end of passage AB-24, where digging is still underway, a buried space ship has been found. It is very old. It may be so oldthat it actually comes from the civilization that existed before the War of the Beginning." "Really?" Lieutenant J was not enthusiastic. Even if it were a relic, so rare, of that civilization that had existed on Earth before the war that had destroyed everything, 15,000 years ago, he failed to become interested. He had suddenly become very tired. He was going to go out on a test job, and he would probably never come back, so who cared about pre-civilization space ships? He would never come back, and he didn't care. Perhaps that was what he had wanted all the time. That emptiness that wouldn't be filled, the harrowing of the war noises, the lassitude that crept over him -- he was tired, and all he wanted to do was to sit for a million years and not move, and not have to do anything but sit. Perhaps that was the solution -- go out and not come back. It was easier than keeping on with the routine when he was so tired and he couldn't find out what that was he wanted. The car that had carried him and the General to the end of the new passage ground to a halt. The O.M. stalked past the guards and surveyed the uncovered roundness of the metal hulk. How long ago was it that it had crashed? And now it was there, buried under yards and yards of rock and dirt. Lieutenant J followed the General into the ship. The crash could not have been very heavy. Most of the machinery within was still intact. There were vague shapes on the floor, shrouded in dust, but of unmistakable outline. Bodies might go in 15,000 years, but bones still remained. The General disappeared into the dusk of the rear chamber, his flashlight prowling around the engine. Lieutenant J went forward, peering half-heartedly at the furnishings and mechanisms, his mind neither here nor there, but in an empty state without thought. Why bother thinking? Everything would be over soon, and he wouldn't have to wonder anymore what had been left out of him. A device caught his eye, and he walked over to it. The thing was a pair of spools, with a tape running between them and through some mechanism. The shape was different, but Lieutenant J knew what a tape running through a machine was for. He had listened to music from a device like that, long ago, But he had gotten tired of it. There has been no good music. Nothing satisfying, like meat and wine. Just spices and sweets. He idly wondered what sort of music they had before The Beginning. He took a testing instrument from his side pouch and made contact with the leads from the machine with the tape and spools. He read his instrument, removed it, and clamped battery leads to the
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