PEOPLE MINUS X
by RAYMOND Z. GALLUN
ACE BOOKS, INC.23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N. Y.
PEOPLE MINUS X
Copyright 1957, by Raymond Z. Gallun
An Ace Book, by arrangement with Simon and Schuster, Inc.
All Rights Reserved
Printed in U.S.A.
[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
CONTENTS
I
Ed Dukas was writing letters. Someone or something was alsowriting—unseen but at his elbow. It was perhaps fifteen minutes beforehe noticed. Conspicuous at the center of the next blank sheet of paperhe reached for, part of a word was already inscribed:
"Nippe ..."
The writing was faint and wavering but in the same shade of blue ink asthat in his own pen.
Ed Dukas said "Hey?" to himself, mildly.
The frown creases between his hazel eyes deepened. They were evidenceof strain that was not new. The stubby forefinger and thumb of hisright hand rubbed their calloused whorls together. Surprise on hissquare face gave way to a cool watchfulness that, in the last ten yearsof guarded living, had been grimed into his nature. Ed Dukas was nowtwenty-two. This era was hurtling and troubled. Since his childhood,Ed had become acquainted with wonder, beauty, hate, opportunity anddisaster on a cosmic level, luxury, adventure, love. Sometimes he hadeven found peace of mind.
He put down his pen, leaving the letter he had been writing suspendedin mid-sentence:
... Pardon the preaching, Les. Human nature and everything else seemsbooby-trapped. They drummed the idea of courage and careful thinkinginto us at school. Because so much that is new and changing is a bigthing to handle. Still, we'll have to stick to a course of action.
Now Ed sat with his elbows on his table, that other, no longer quiteblank, sheet of paper held lightly in his hands. He sat there, a stockyyoung man, his hair cut short like a hedge, the clues of his existencearound him: student banners on the walls; a stereoptic picture of histrack team—in color of course; ditto for his astrophysics class; hisbookcase; his tiny sensipsych set; and the delicate instruments thatany guy who hoped to reach the next human goal, the nearer stars, hadto learn about.
His girl's picture, part of any youth's pattern of life for the lastthree centuries, smiled from beside him on the table. Dark. Strong asgirls were apt to be, these days. Beautiful in a rough-hewn way. Buteven with all that strength to rely o