Free Orphans of the Sky by Robert A. Heinlein Page A

The three bravoes obeyed; Bobo was too loaded down with Ertz to constitute a problem in discipline. Hugh saw to it that they put thirty-odd more decks below them and were well into no man's land before he let vigilance relax at all. Then he called a halt and they examined wounds.
           The only deep ones were to Long Arm's arm and Bobo's face. Joe-Jim examined them and applied presses with which he had outfitted himself before starting. Hugh refused treatment for his flesh wound. "It's stopped bleeding," he insisted, "and I've got a lot to do."
           "You've got nothing to do but to get up home," said Joe, "and that will be an end to this foolishness."  
           "Not quite," denied Hugh. "You may be going home, but Alan and I and Bobo are going up to no-weight—to the Captain's veranda."  
           "Nonsense," said Joe. "What for?"  
           "Come along if you like, and see. All right, gang. Let's go."  
           Joe started to speak, stopped when Jim kept still. Joe-Jim followed along.  
           They floated gently through the door of the veranda, Hugh, Alan, Bobo with his still-passive burden—and Joe-Jim. "That's it," said Hugh to Alan, waving his hand at the splendid stars, "that's what I've been telling you about."
           Alan looked and clutched at Hugh's arm. "Jordan!" he moaned. "We'll fall out!" He closed his eyes tightly.
           Hugh shook him. "It's all right," he said. "It's grand. Open your eyes."
           Joe-Jim touched Hugh's arm. "What's it all about?" he demanded. "Why did you bring him up here?" He pointed to Ertz.
           "Oh—him. Well, when he wakes up I'm going to show him the stars, prove to him that the Ship moves."
           "Well? What for?"
           "Then I'll send him back down to convince some others."
           "Hm-m-m—suppose he doesn't have any better luck than you had?"
           "Why, then"—Hugh shrugged his shoulders— "why, then we shall just have to do it all over, I suppose, till we do convince them.
           "We've got to do it, you know."

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Part Two
     
    COMMON SENSE

 
     
    II
     
     
    COMMON SENSE
     
     
    JOE, THE RIGHT-HAND head of Joe-Jim, addressed his words to Hugh Hoyland. "All right, smart boy, you've convinced the Chief Engineer—" He gestured toward Bill Ertz with the blade of his knife, then resumed picking Jim's teeth with it. "So what? Where does it get you?"
           "I've explained that," Hugh Hoyland answered irritably. "We keep on, until every scientist in the Ship, from the Captain to the greenest probationer, knows that the Ship moves and believes that we can make it move. Then we'll finish the Trip, as Jordan willed. How many knives can you muster?" he added.
           "Well, for the love o' Jordan! Listen—have you got some fool idea that we are going to help you with this crazy scheme?"
           "Naturally. You're necessary to it."
           "Then you had better think up another think. That's out. Bobo! Get out the checkerboard."
           "O.K., Boss." The microcephalic dwarf hunched himself up off the floor plates and trotted across Joe-Jim's apartment.
           "Hold it, Bobo." Jim, the left-hand head, had spoken. The dwarf stopped dead, his narrow forehead wrinkled. The fact that his two-headed master occasionally failed to agree as to what Bobo should do was the only note of insecurity in his tranquil bloodthirsty existence.
           "Let's hear what he has to say," Jim continued. "There may be some fun in this."
           "Fun! The fun of getting a knife in your ribs. Let me point out that they are my ribs, too. I don't agree to it."
           "I didn't ask you to agree; I asked you to listen. Leaving fun out of it, it may be the only way to keep a knife out of our ribs."
           "What do you mean?" Joe demanded suspiciously.
           "You heard what Ertz had to say." Jim