Read Like A Writer

There are two ways to learn how to write fiction: by reading it and by writing it. Yes, you can learn lots about writing stories in workshops, in writing classes and writing groups, at writers' conferences. You can learn technique and process by reading the dozens of books like this one on fiction writing and by reading articles in writers' magazines. But the best teachers of fiction are the great works of fiction themselves. You can learn more about the structure of a short story by reading Anton Chekhov's 'Heartache' than you can in a semester of Creative Writing 101. If you read like a writer, that is, which means you have to read everything twice, at least. When you read a story or novel the first time, just let it happen. Enjoy the journey. When you've finished, you know where the story took you, and now you can go back and reread, and this time notice how the writer reached that destination. Notice the choices he made at each chapter, each sentence, each word. (Every word is a choice.) You see now how the transitions work, how a character gets across a room. All this time you're learning. You loved the central character in the story, and now you can see how the writer presented the character and rendered her worthy of your love and attention. The first reading is creative—you collaborate with the writer in making the story. The second reading is critical.


John Dufresne, from his book, The Lie That Tells A Truth: A Guide to Writing Fiction

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Showing posts with label William Campbell Gault. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Campbell Gault. Show all posts

Saturday, July 27, 2024

The Woman Obsession By William Campbell Gault

 



The Woman Obsession


By William Campbell Gault


Surely Collins was an idiot. He kept dreaming of women in a world that knew nothing of love's delight. But where there's life—


[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe September 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


Few writers possess William Campbell Gault's sensitive capacity for balancing delicacy with daring in themes which gracefully skirt the edge of the outrageous, and open up entire new worlds of speculation which future historians will most assuredly encounter in their travels time and time again. Seldom has he written a story more imaginatively audacious than this.


It was on the Mars-Jupiter run, a trip flea-bitten with asteroids, and needing a Level-One navigator. In all the galaxy, there were three Level-One navigators, and Horse Collins was one, and he was ours. By 'ours,' I mean Gideon Shipping, Inc. Twelve years I've piloted for them, and I think they're the best in the business.


Johnny "Horse" Collins was a typical space bum in one way. He was restless, he wanted to see what was out there. But he lacked discipline. And his thinking was earth-bound conventional. He'd even played football at college, and that's where he'd picked up the 'Horse' nickname. He'd been an All-Earth fullback, and why he'd gone on to navigator's school from there I'm not competent to judge. A man who can make All-Earth in a game dominated by robots is bound to have some body. No one but a sportswriter would suspect he might also have a mind.


Horse had a fine mind for his business; otherwise he was, as I've said, rather conventional, like a fullback. He liked women, for one thing.


"Why?" I asked him one day. "Their primary function is handled better by the Massago-Lust. If they have any secondary functions, I've forgotten them."


"You never knew any of their functions, except through books," Horse answered. "Second-hand living."


I stared at him. If traveling among the stars wasn't living, then what the hell was? I asked him that pointblank.


"It's nothing I could explain to you," he said. "You're space-happy."


"Why are you here, Horse?" I asked him quietly.


"Because I thought there'd be adventure, out here. Strange lands and strange people."


"Jupiter isn't a strange land. It's simply a land of ice and lava, a grotesque, fascinating, frightening...."


"No people," Horse interrupted. "And how about Mars?"


"Mars is a disappointment, sure. I was talking about Jupiter, and you say 'no people.' Earth is full of people. Too full. That's why we have the Massago-Lust."


"And the women rationed to the scientists. Who do they think they are?"


"They're the people who cut our shackles, fullback. They're the people who refused to be earth-bound."


"Mmm-hmm. And they're the cuties who could just as well maintain the population quota with artificial insemination, too. But do they? Come to think of it, why don't they?"


"You'd better check your orbit log," I told him. "We're getting into asteroid alley."


"Yes, Chief. Yes, Boss. Yes, Sir!" He pulled out the flats, and looked through the electronic scanner. Then he picked up a stylus and adjusted it to the graph arm, and took another look through the scanner.


He seemed to be frozen there. "Mi Gawd—"


"What's happened? You damned fullback, if you've lost our line to—"


He waved, stiff-armed. "Shut up. We're right on orbit. I just saw a woman. And what a woman. She was waving to me!"


In all the galaxy there had been three Level-One navigators. There were now two.


"Naturally," I said patiently. "You would. That would be your mirage—a woman."


"I saw a woman," Horse insisted evenly, "on—" He was consulting his flats, frowning. "On—Well, I'll be damned."


"You also saw a planetoid that doesn't exist. I'll name it for you, Horse's Asteroid. A fitting name."


Collins didn't answer, right away. He was flipping levers, connecting the scanner to the chart, and also to the controls. Then he said, "Okay, Skipper. We're under mechanical control. Relax, if you know how."


I locked the board and stretched my neck. Horse lighted a cigarette, a vice I deny myself. His eyes looked—bemused.


I said, "You saw a woman where there could be no women. I'll have to enter it in the log, Johnny."


"Sure," he said. He took a deep and weary breath. "You know what the boys call you?"


"Slide Rule Sam," I answered. "I'm proud of it."


"Why? A robot could handle your job."


"For a man who made his reputation in a robot's game, you're talking rather haughtily, fullback. If a robot could handle my job, a robot would be giving you orders right now. Gideon Shipping is cost-conscious enough for that, despite the wages they pay."


"Wages," Johnny said. "Is that all a man works for, wages?"


"At our level, that's all a man works for," I assured him. "You're talking like a Capitalist, Horse." I watched for a reaction.


He started to say something, then shook his head. "You'd probably enter that in the log, too, if I said it." He put out his cigarette thoughtfully. "Sam, on the way back I want you to look through that scanner. If we delay our trip back an hour, the orbits of the other planetoids will be about right, and that one should be, too. Then you can enter the fact that we both saw it. You think I'm space-simple. But you won't be able to doubt what you'll see with your own eyes."


I said evenly, "I've traveled this line for twelve years and I've had navigators before who saw mirages. You're just not emotionally stable, Horse."


"I'm not punchy, either," Horse said. "You can have my resignation right now, Sam."


"Resignation? That's a word I've forgotten, Horse. You'll be re-assigned when we return to base."


He lighted another cigarette and went back to his desk. And I wondered who we'd get to take his place. The schools hadn't had a Level-One navigator in six years and the only two graduates who met that specification were very happy on other runs. Maybe, he wasn't completely gone.... Maybe...? But that wasn't scientific thinking.


Horse said, "Ever read about the old trains on Earth, Sam?"


"Second-hand living," I quoted him. "That's what you called reading."


"All right. It's better than not living at all. Anyway, in those old days, people along the tracks used to wave at the passengers as the trains roared by, for no reason I can think of. At any rate, for no scientific reason. What happened to me was pretty much like that. Sort of romantic, wasn't it?"


"An earth-bound iron sluggard moving through cow pastures. Is that romantic to a man who's seen Jupiter?"


"No, I guess not," Horse said quietly. "Only to me, I guess."


I turned on the video-viewer above the board, and as the glow brightened, I could see the robot quarters and Van Elling playing bridge with three of our brightest automatons. Van's a great boy to buck impossible odds, but otherwise rational. He's our robot master.


Van looked up from the game at the signal light, and smiled, "About time, Skipper?"


"You'd have to ask the navigator."


Van's eyes shifted. "What's he sulking about?"


Horse waved. "How you coming with the master-minds?"


"I'm winning. I've found a system." He looked back at me. "Skipper, there should be two robot masters on this run, and you know it."


Horse laughed. "A partner, eh, Van?"


"Why not? Psychic bids, that's what throws them off. But it throws off my partner, too, and I don't make what I should. How about it, Sam?"


I said, "You wanted a report from the navigator. I'm holding the screen open for that."


Van Elling's face stiffened, and his eyes went to Horse's. Collins said, "Seven hours and twelve minutes." I turned off the viewer.


Silence in the cabin and I was uncomfortable. Damn it, there had to be discipline on board, and I was in command.


Horse said quietly, "Are you a natural son-of-a-broomstick, or do you work at it?"


Rage flamed in me, and I waited until it had languished. Then I said calmly, "I'm your superior, and I've been too lenient. I'm not strong enough to fight you but I'm powerful enough to destroy you. I intend to. Look forward to a long career in the mines of Mars, fullback."


"Even you, with all your connections, couldn't rig that," Horse said lightly. "You can ground me, and hope I get court-martialed for insubordination. I've a few connections, too."


Silence, again. I went over to his scanner and checked our co-ordinates. I brought out the log and entered his mirage and his insubordination. Why quibble? Let the record speak.


Europa loomed below us, now, and Jupiter dead ahead. The oxygenator sent its draft along the back of my neck, and I shifted in my seat, remembering his question about artificial insemination. That in itself could be considered subversive. Not that I hadn't thought it, and millions of others, but he'd voiced it.


The scientists had the money, the power, the commerce. And hadn't they earned it? Hadn't they made all this quite possible?


We hadn't said a word right up to the time I put the forward blasters on for the Jupiter mooring.


The buzzer from the rear hatch was buzzing now, and I threw the switch to open it. Van Elling came in with his duryllium helmet on, beating his hands on his thighs.


Collins helped him with the helmet, and Van said, "Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold. Chief, we might lose a couple minutes on the loading. Those boys aren't what they were when we bought them."


Through the oxygenator, I could smell ammonia and burning elgeron. I went to the viewer room and switched to the landing ramp. The robots were moving down the ramp at a pace which might have been slower than usual, but didn't seem so to me.


Behind me, I could hear Van Elling and Horse Collins whispering. Mutiny?


I watched the first of the robots go into the big hole that led to the elgeron deposits, and came back to see Van at the duplicate robot control board we had to use at the end of a trip. Van was looking worried, but it could have been feigned.


"A few minutes?" I asked. "How many is a few?"


"I said 'a couple' only, Chief, but I think that was a bad guess. It might be an hour."


Horse was smiling. Van kept his face averted.


"Delayed an hour?" I asked, and then it came to me. Horse wanted another look at his asteroid. That's why they'd whispered.


"I'm afraid," I said, "an hour's delay would be too long, and I hope neither of you think I'm being fooled by your cute little tricks. This isn't the time for trickery."


"Sorry, Chief," Van said. "I'm doing the best I can."


He kept his attention on the control board and Horse bent over his charts. They ignored me. Well, I had a lot of strings to pull. They'd regret this day, both of them.


The smell of molten elgeron was heavy now, and the bite of ammonia. The robots were coming back up the ramp, carrying enormous chunks of the solidified, translucent stuff. On Mars, it would be crushed in the huge, automatic grinders and mixed with the stydium of that planet, and sent in radiation-proof ships to the laboratories of Earth.


One robot seemed to falter for a second, and I glanced quickly back toward the cabin where I could just see Van at the control board. I couldn't tell by his manipulation of the toggles whether the robot's falter was deliberate or not, but I saw him glance at Collins and smile.


Rage simmered in me, pulsated, and I stood there for seconds in the viewing room, waiting for it to recede. The whole line of robots was stationary now and the one who'd faltered was leaning over against the guard rail of the ramp.


I came into the cabin and said, "You'd better put on your suit, Van. There's a robot out there holding up the line."


Jupiter was no place to venture without proper radiation shielding, and our space suits weren't the best in the world for radiation protection.


He said, "I think I can handle it from here, Chief."


Horse said quickly, "I'll go out and see what I can do. No sense in taking a chance on jamming the whole line, Van." Collins glanced at me for confirmation.


I shrugged. "Suit yourself. But remember—I didn't order you out."


"Unless you'd like to go, Chief," Horse said meaningfully.


I shook my head. I flushed, too, though there wasn't any reason for it. Unnecessary risks are not a part of a pilot's job.


Horse murmured something that sounded like "gutless" and I said sharply, "Would you repeat that?"


His gaze met mine levelly. "I didn't say a word, Chief. I'll get my suit on."


In a little while, I saw him out there on the ramp putting on a great show of trying to adjust the robot's delemeter, which is what gives them their uncanny balance.


After about twenty minutes, he waved and stood to one side, and Van Elling sent the impulse through. The robot staggered, and then came back to an upright position. Collins stood at the broad part of the ramp as the line began to move again.


Discipline begins with self-discipline, I told myself. No man ever achieved anything without self-control.


The more complex robots stayed in the storeroom of the ship, checking the tonnage, and classifying the elgeron according to quality. These were just the haulers, on the ramp, and Van controlled them completely from his board.


His word regarding their breakdown would be the accepted word with the bosses. I would have a difficult job getting anything on Van Elling.


But Horse Collins? Horse had seen a woman on an asteroid that didn't exist. Horse had been guilty of insubordination. He would need more friends than he had to wriggle out from under those charges.


There was another breakdown before we were finished loading, and they'd timed it well. We blasted off an hour later than usual.


Van went back to the robot quarters and Horse to his charts, and I had some more entries for the log. I'm not a talkative man, but Horse was. The silence in the cabin must have bothered him.


He said, "Chief, we could start over. We could forget the nasty things that have been said."


"I have forgotten them," I said. "Once I enter something in the log, I forget it."


"All that happened you entered in the log?"


"All. Including your earlier request to delay our return an hour." I paused. "The disciplinary board can read whatever inferences they want from that, in the light of what happened later."


"I see. The report would put Van in the soup, too, Chief."


"I suppose."


"That'll lose you two good men."


"Will it?"


Silence for over an hour, and then Horse said, "Before the company filled you full of that discipline garbage, were you human, Sam? Did you dream of a better world, a normal world, a world with women?"


"Some things we outgrow," I said. "I'm doing exactly what I want to do."


Horse sighed, and the silence grew again.


I was dozing the next time he opened his mouth. "It's not necessary to stick it to Van, too, is it, Chief?"


"I record," I said. "I don't judge."


"It wasn't necessary to record my request. Don't give me that, Chief."


"In my opinion, it was necessary."


"Okay. Would you check my co-ordinates?"


He'd caught me in a nap, and I didn't think of the time. It was a routine request in a routine voice and I rose without thinking and went over to the scanner.


I put my eye to the eye-piece and saw her. A dark girl, without clothes, more beautifully shaped than any picture I'd ever carried as an adolescent. And she was waving!


A trembling possessed me, but I fought it. I looked up instantly at Horse, and I said, "You've increased the magnification about three million times beyond the requirements of the co-ordinate check. How do you expect me to substantiate your findings?"


Horse was smiling. "I know, I know. What'd you see, Chief?"


"Nothing. There was nothing to see. This will be recorded, too, Collins."


Collins was still smiling. "You'll record there was nothing to see?"


"I certainly will, and that you had the electronic scanner up to its full magnification for no apparent reason. That should finish you, Collins."


"Chief, if you saw nothing through that scanner, you're already finished. I don't want to stay in a service that would make something like you out of me."


"You haven't the stuff to become something like me," I told him, and went back to my chair.


"The service," he said gently, "is looking for planets or planetoids that will support our kind of life. And you've just seen our kind of life. And you're not going to report it. That's going to be your cross. Because, Slide Rule, I'm not going to report it, either. That's my secret, back there. That's mine."


"Whatever it was you think you saw, you'll never see it again, Collins," I told him. "This is the only line from Mars to Jupiter and you're going to be out of work once we're back to base."


"You think," he said. "You hope. You pray."


I wonder what he thought I'd been doing in my twelve years with Gideon? I wonder if he thought I was so stupid I wouldn't have a few lines to the right people in twelve years? Did he think only the noisy ones could play this political game?


Once out of asteroid alley, I dozed. And dozing, dreamed of that black haired temptress waving, dreamed of her like some pimply-faced young idiot. Gad, if a man couldn't discipline himself after my training....


I wakened to find Horse nodding over his board.


I said sharply, "I'm ready to eat, Collins."


His head jerked upright, and he stared at me a few seconds. Then he stood up and went out to the small galley.


A stinking fullback trying to play the political game with Slide Rule Sam. How these athletes loved to over-rate themselves.


He brought my food, and then went into the galley to eat his.


When he came out, he said, "I'd like to nap, if you're going to be awake, Chief."


"I'll be awake for two hours. You'd better sleep fast."


"You're the boss," he said, which was his admission.


I gave him a bad time the rest of the trip and got not a single complaint out of him. And at Mars, we put on our suits and went ashore, and I entered my complaints with the subsidiary board at the company headquarters there.


They got us transportation to Earth next morning, and both Van and Horse were held for trial the following week.


That gave me time, and I pulled every string I knew in the four days before the trial. Horse was almost irreplaceable; Van could be replaced in five minutes.


But there was no need to worry about Collins. He didn't fight. He pulled no strings I knew of, and when he went up in front of the board, he pleaded space insanity.


He'd seen a mirage, he'd insisted on my checking it, he'd called me names and he took the full responsibility for the robot breakdown. Trying to save Van, I suppose, with that last.


Horse had a company lawyer, and he tried to establish the line that perhaps there had been life on the asteroid and that a discovery of that importance over-shadowed the charges of insubordination and temporary space insanity.


I got on the stand and swore there had been no sign of life and not even an asteroid where Horse had fixed the scanner. I was safe enough, I knew. There were only a few ships on the run, and no other with a scanner of our power.


I hadn't wasted the four days. For three years, I'd been studying navigation in my spare time. I wasn't really qualified for the Mars-Jupiter run, but I had men high in the company who thought I was. I'd get by until I learned.


I didn't want anyone else on that scanner.


Van Elling was fired without prejudice, but I knew he'd have some time trying to get back into the service after the publicity of the trial.


Collins was held over for a higher review of his case on the possibility that his background was subversive. I was sure they'd find some capitalistic group he'd belonged to briefly in college.


I was back on Mars when I got word through the new pilot that Horse had never been brought before the higher tribunal. Somewhere, Van had managed to buy an obsolete, atomic two seater, and Horse had broken out of Embardo. The two of them had been seen by one of the Gideon ships a few million miles beyond Galaxy E.


Typical fullback thinking—that—taking off into space. If he'd wanted to hide, Earth was the place for it. Where could he get to with a clunk of a two seater? He was a navigator, granted. But he'd have to have something worthwhile to navigate.


Both the new pilot and the new robot master were young and properly respectful, space-dedicated boys, and my life, I knew, was going to be pleasant. And once I had mastered navigation, I was going to be damned near irreplaceable.


As we bored through space on the old familiar run, the thought came to me that probably Horse would head for his asteroid, and if he should make it, wouldn't that be something? Two men and one girl. I wonder how long Van would live.


Van was no fullback, nor a reasonably accurate facsimile thereof. Unless he had a weapon, he'd be no match for Horse.


The image of the girl came back to haunt me. I knew there'd been an expedition or two lost in asteroid alley on early exploratory trips, but they hadn't carried women. And her face was familiar.


I went to a library and thumbed through some old newsprints. Of course! The photograph fairly leapt at me. Elsbeth Parrish, the science hater, the woman who'd gone on a lecture tour ridiculing the powers that be, making converts first in the women's schools and then in the co-educational institutions. The 'Live for Love' girl, Elsbeth Parrish.


Naturally the government had cracked down and tried to deport her to Mars. She'd disappeared a week before the trial, and one of those old Interplan Rocket Sedans had disappeared with her. The government had given her up as lost in space.


I could understand now why Horse had made the confession at his trial and why he'd been so submissive on the return trip from Jupiter. He'd tricked me into swearing there was no life on the asteroid. And now he could safely head there, because I was the one man alive besides him and Van Elling who knew there was life there, and my future depended on my not revealing it.


But could he make it in an atomic two seater? And two men for one woman—if he did make it? I had to know the answer.


When we came into asteroid alley, I had the scanner's magnification on at full strength, and I also had the automatic scanning control adjusted to the orbits I wanted. Even Horse Collins couldn't have pin-pointed it any better.


I wish I'd missed it. For both of them were there, Horse and Van, looking up my way and smiling, too. The slobs. There wasn't one woman there. There were three, all beautiful.


Two men and three women.


The dirty, science-hating sons.


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