Free Tales of Pirx the Pilot by Stanislaw Lem Page A

gave you a B for the course… Hm. Do you suppose he might have made a mistake?”
    Pirx’s armchair was slowly being transformed into a live volcano.
    “I wouldn’t wish to cause my colleague any embarrassment, so I think the less said about this the better…”
    Pirx sighed.
    “But during your comprehensive examination I shall see to it that Professor Laab…”
    He left the rest to Pirx’s imagination. Pirx gulped, but not from the concealed threat; the commandant’s hand was slowly scooping up the papers that were to have accompanied his Mission.
    “Why isn’t a cable communications system practicable?”
    “Too costly. At the moment only one concentric cable is in operation—the one connecting Luna Base with Archimedes. There are plans to install a cable network within the next five years,” Pirx fired away.
    Not mollified, the commandant picked up the thread.
    “To resume, then. The Mendeleev station is cut off at night. But communication or no communication, the work went on as usual—until recently, that is. One day last month, when the station failed to respond to any calls following the usual nighttime intermission, the Tsiolkovsky team set out and found the main hatch open, and inside the chamber—a body. The station was being manned by a team of Canadians, Challiers and Savage. The body in the chamber was Savage’s. His helmet was punctured. Death due to asphyxiation. Challiers’s body was found the next day at the foot of the Sun Gap—the victim of a fall. Otherwise the station was in perfect order: the monitoring systems checked out, stores untouched, not a sign of any damage or mechanical malfunction. You probably read about it.”
    “Yes, I did,” said Pirx. “But it was reported in the papers as a double suicide. A case of temporary insanity brought on by a … psychosis of some kind…”
    “Bull!” the commandant suddenly blurted out. “I knew Savage. From our days in the Alps. A guy like that would never have snapped. No, sir. The papers were full of it. You can read the report yourself, the one released by the joint inquiry commission. Listen here, Pirx, you fellas are given the same screening as pilots; the only difference is that you can’t fly until you’re breveted. And like it or not, you’ve got to put in your summer duty. If you sign on, you’ll fly tomorrow.”
    “And my partner?”
    “I don’t know his name. Some astrophysicist. The station can’t function without them. I’m afraid he won’t be exactly thrilled by your company, but, well, you might just pick up a little astrography in the process. Now you’re sure you understand the nature of your assignment? The commission ruled it was an accident, but certain aspects still remain under a cloud of … let’s call it ambiguity. Something unexplainable happened up there—exactly what, we don’t know. That’s why it was decided the next team should include someone with the psychological qualifications of a pilot. I saw no reason to turn down their request. Chances are, nothing sensational is going to happen. Of course you’ll have to keep your eyes and ears open. But remember, you’re not up there to play detective; no one is expecting any startling new discoveries or breakthroughs in the case. No, that’s not your mission. What’s the matter? Aren’t you feeling well?”
    “Huh? No, no—I feel fine,” answered Pirx.
    “I thought so. Well, think you can behave sensibly? Unless I’m mistaken, it’s already going to your head. Maybe we should call off—”
    “I will behave sensibly,” said Pirx in the most emphatic voice he could muster.
    “I doubt it,” said the commandant. “I’m sending you up there with some reluctance. If it weren’t for the grade—”
    “The dip!” Pirx let it slip.
    The commandant pretended not to have heard this last remark. He gave him the papers first, then his hand.
    “Takeoff tomorrow at zero eight hundred hours. Travel light. You’ve been up there before, so