E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, L. N. Yaddanapudi,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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Transcriber's Note and Errata
This e-text was produced from Astounding Science Fact and Fiction, July1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S.copyright on this publication was renewed.
The original page numbers from the magazine have been retained.
Illustrations have been moved to the appropriate places in the text.
A few typographical errors have been marked in the text. If the mousehovers over the marked text, the explanation will appear.
There was one instance each of 'hyperspace' and 'hyper-space'.There was one instance of 'hook-up' and one of 'hookups'.These hyphenations were not changed.
SUBSPACE SURVIVORS
By EDWARD E. SMITH, Ph. D.
Illustrated by van Dongen
There has always been, and will always be, the problem of surviving theexperience that any trained expert can handle ... when there hasn't beenany first survivor to be an expert! When no one has ever gotten back toexplain what happened....
I.
"All passengers, will you pay attention,please?" All the high-fidelity speakers of the starship Procyon spokeas one, in the skillfully-modulated voice of the trained announcer."This is the fourth and last cautionary announcement. Any who are notseated will seat themselves at once. Prepare for take-off accelerationof one and one-half gravities; that is, everyone will weigh one-halfagain as much as his normal Earth weight for about fifteen minutes. Welift in twenty seconds; I will count down the final five seconds....Five ... Four ... Three ... Two ... One ... Lift!"
The immense vessel rose from her berth; slowly at first, but with[Pg 107]ever-increasing velocity; and in the main lounge, where many of thepassengers had gathered to watch the dwindling Earth, no one moved forthe first five minutes. Then a girl stood up.
She was not a startlingly beautiful girl; no more so than can be seenfairly often, of a summer afternoon, on Seaside Beach. Her hair was anartificial yellow. Her eyes were a deep, cool blue. Her skin, what couldbe seen of it—she was wearing breeches and a long-sleeved shirt—waslightly tanned. She was only about five-feet-three, and her build wasnot spectacular. However, every ounce of her one hundred fifteen poundswas exactly where it should have been.
First she stood tentatively, flexing her knees and testing her weight.Then, stepping boldly out into a clear space, she began to do ahigh-kicking acrobatic dance; and went on doing it as effortlessly andas rhythmically as though she were on an Earthly stage.
"You mustn't do that, Miss!" A stewardess came bustling up. Or,rather, not exactly bustling. Very few people, and almost nostewardesses, either actually bustle in or really enjoy one point fivegees. "You really must resume your seat, Miss. I must insist.... Oh,you're Miss Warner...."
She paused.
"That's right, Barbara Warner. Cabin two eight one."
"But really, Miss Warner, it's reg