Free Gift From The Stars by James Gunn Page A

to trust their lives to it.”
    Her words echoed less stridently from the partitions around them. For a moment they obscured the noises someone was making on a nearby catwalk. Then they heard footsteps. Coming closer. Jessie squeezed Frances’s upper arm. Frances did not turn around.
    “That’s right,” someone said. “It’s an exercise in faith, like lighting a votary candle.”
    “Adrian?” Frances said.
    “You’ve found me,” a voice said softly.
    Frances turned. Adrian looked much the same as she had seen him last—was it four years ago? Maybe a little older around the eyes, a little grayer around the edges. But his blue eyes were still as steadfast and concerned. “Adrian!” she said. “You’ve put us to a great deal of bother. Why didn’t you let us know?”
    Adrian spread his hands in a universal gesture of helplessness. The gesture also happened to indicate the space around them. Occupying that space, a few paces away, were four men and a woman, dressed in white, uniform-like coveralls. Frances had been so focused on Adrian’s footsteps that the approach of the others had gone unnoticed. They looked grim and determined, a bit like Adrian himself when he was thinking about spaceships.
    “They talked me out of it,” Adrian said.
    “I suppose they were the ones who came and took you away,” Frances said. Adrian nodded. “Against your will?”
    Adrian hesitated. “Against my better judgment.”
    “Which means,” Frances said, “that they had been in touch with you earlier, and that you had disagreed about the next procedure.”
    “They were—persuasive,” Adrian said. “Not that I was opposed to their goals. Only their methods.”
    “They’re space-nuts, too?” Her epithet concealed a deeper pain. What was there in a few humans that yearned for liberation? Was it the eternal wanderlust or something deeper?
    “Including someone I want you to meet,” Adrian said. He turned toward the steep stairs down which he had come.
    Standing at their foot was a man in slacks and jacket who looked familiar. “Cavendish?” Frances said.
    The man nodded.
    “Last time I saw you was in Menninger’s Clinic in Topeka,” Frances said.
    “I was cured,” Cavendish said simply. “With the help of some biogenetic materials.”
    “But not cured, apparently, of your interest in alien spaceship designs,” Frances said.
    Cavendish fidgeted. “Not of that,” he said.
    “Careful, Frances,” Adrian said. “He still gets agitated.”
    Cavendish held up a hand. “That’s okay.” But his head began to twitch.
    “Did you figure it out?” Frances asked.
    “Frances!” Adrian cautioned.
    “Why they sent the designs?” Frances continued.
    Cavendish held out his hands to show that they were steady. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Why did they send the designs? Why didn’t they just come here? What do they want from us?”
    “And the fact that there are no answers doesn’t bother you anymore?” Frances asked.
    “Of course it bothers me. But I can think clearly now, and I understand that there are answers. We won’t find them, however, until we build the ship and go where the answers are. That’s the only way we can find peace.” His breath came out at the end, in an explosive rush, as if he had been holding it in all the time he spoke.
    “That’s the way it is,” Frances said. She motioned toward the partially assembled rocket. “But you don’t intend to go anywhere in that, I hope.”
    “That’s just for practice,” Cavendish said. “When we finally get the resources to build the ship, we’ll need experience, won’t we? So we sneak a little power, at night, when nobody’s paying attention.”
    “And how is all this going to get you anywhere?” Frances asked. This time she was speaking to Adrian.
    “I don’t know,” Adrian said.
    “Did you know that they removed all proof of your existence?” Frances said. “ At least the electronic part.”
    Adrian looked accusingly at