Free One in 300 by J. T. McIntosh Page A

things, but that's just the way I'm made. Sure, I'll help all I can,

any time. What's on your mind?"
     
     
Something in the way he said it showed me that he was remembering Pat too.
     
     
"Remember," I said, "how you once thought the lifeships were a cruel hoax?

A myth designed to keep a tottering world comparatively sane while the real

spaceships were granted peace to get on with their job?"
     
     
He nodded. "But you were right, Bill," he said. "I felt pretty low when

I said that. It was just natural pessimism."
     
     
"It was more than that, Sammy," I said quietly.
     
     
He stared at me.
     
     
I told him. I showed him my figures -- all of them.
     
     
Given only eight weeks before the sun stepped up its output enough to make

Earth a 25O-5OO° Centigrade world, the governments of the world had had no

chance to transfer their people wholesale to another planet. Space travel

was too young. There were too few ships. There was too little time.
     
     
No, any way they looked at it, it was a simple proportion sum. Give a

few people a good chance of getting to Mars safely, or a lot of people

a very slim chance.
     
     
I didn't know whether I was apologizing for them or not. I don't now.

But look at it this way.
     
     
Back on Earth, at sea, a liner sinks. Nothing is left but one lifeboat

and hundreds of people in the water. The lifeboat sails around and picks

up people till the gunwales are nearly in the water. Then what? Others

try to clamber aboard. Still more cling to the sides of the boat. What's

the answer -- let everyone drown, since everyone can't be saved?
     
     
Sammy was in no doubt. "The swine!" he said, his face white. "What's the

use of giving people a chance that isn't a chance? Why didn't they build

just as many ships as they knew could get to Mars and land there safely?"
     
     
I grinned without humor. "People will argue over that for the next

thousand years," I said, "those who are left to argue about it. Me,

I'd take the infinitesimal chance rather than no chance at all. But

there's no use talking about it now, Sammy. It's so. What are we going

to do about it?"
     
     
"What can we do about it?"
     
     
I let myself float comfortably on the softest cushion imaginable --

air without gravity.
     
     
"A lot, in theory," I said. "The regular ships will get to Mars all right.

So will some of the lifeships. There will be variations, of course --

some of them will be a lot luckier than we've been, some a lot less. For

some it will be a simple, straightforward trip -- and if they've no

fuel left after they land, what does that matter? For others it must

have been a hundred per cent impossibility from the word 'go.'
     
     
"All right, there will be plenty of ships on Mars when we get there.

They'll send up as many as they can to take people off lifeships that

can't land safely, or help others down, or refuel them . . ."
     
     
Sammy brightened.
     
     
"Or," I went on, "little as we have, we certainly have enough fuel to take

up some sort of orbit around Mars, and wait for someone to do something

about us. There's one space suit on board. Someone could land with that,

and sooner or later a ship would come up and take us off."
     
     
Sammy, looking much happier, wanted to speak, but I ignored him and went on.
     
     
"Or again," I said, "if we do nothing at all, using no fuel, we'll find

one of three things happening. We may see we're going to miss Mars

altogether, and if that's so we'll have to use our fuel to correct the

course. We may fall into an orbit naturally, without doing a thing.

Or if we see we're going to crash on Mars, we can leave the drive to the

last minute and then use what we have to land as soft as we can."
     
     
Sammy began: "But that's -- "
     
     
"Still not much better than a thousand-to-one chance," I told him flatly.
     
     
He stared at me incredulously.
     
     
"I'm sorry, Sammy," I said. "I know I should have kept this to myself,

but I'm