Short Fiction by Mack Reynolds (ready to read books .TXT) 📕

them another week of thrills, possibly they’ll have forgotten their wounds by the time we return.”

The Chief Engineer turned to Cajun. “At what stage of development is this planet?”

“I believe it’s at H-2S. Why?”

“I was wondering at the possibility of going forward a few thousand years in time and participating in a war that dealt less in hand to hand conflict. They could have their fill of killing, with a minimum of danger⁠—protected, of course, with suitable anti-projectile force fields.”

Cajun went over to the ship’s Predictinformer and spoke into its mouthpiece. “What will be the military development of this planet in two or three thousand years; and would it be safe to take the ship into that period?”

They awaited the answer, which came approximately one minute later. “Probability shows the inhabitants of Terra will begin utilizing explosives for propelling missiles in two thousand years. About five hundred years later they will have developed this means of warfare to its ultimate. Safety for the ship is indicated.”

Captain Foren mused, “That sounds practical. We could participate in some war in which our passengers could use such weapons as snipers, from a distance.” Another thought struck him. “Besides, the Lord General Baris is quite intrigued with the possibilities involved in fighting the humanoids here. He had spoken of transporting large numbers of his troops to Terra and using the planet for a training ground in actual combat. Undoubtedly, the earthlings of the future would make better victims for his soldiers than these more primitive types. It might be well to look at the future of this planet.”

The First Engineer said, “Such a step would wipe out the development of civilization on the planet.”

Captain Foren shrugged impatiently. He ordered Cajun to make immediate preparations to take the ship forward twenty-five hundred years, and gave instructions to a sub-officer to locate a suitable conflict as soon as they arrived, so that the guests could begin their participation when they awoke in the morning.

The ship arrived effortlessly in its new location in time, but when the sub-officer returned from his patrol, First Officer Cajun took him to the Captain’s quarters himself.

He saluted. “I don’t believe this is quite it, Captain.”

“Why not? Weren’t there any wars in progress?”

Cajun said, “It wasn’t that. There were several. They don’t seem to have reached the development for which we were looking. For instance, in the region in which we’ve landed, the first stage of a conflict between two nations have begun. The countries are called Mexico and the United States and they’re fighting over the northwestern possessions of the former, although, as always, both sides claim they are involved for idealistic reasons. However, the fighting still consists, to an extent, of hand to hand conflict. The soldiers carry explosive propelled missile weapons, but they’re usually slow in loading and single shot in operation. Swords are carried at the ends of these weapons so that after it is fired the soldier may dash forward and engage his enemy personally.”

The Captain was glum. “That’s as bad as before, and I can’t risk our passengers in any more hand to hand combat.”

“Sir, these humanoids on Terra seem slow in progressing but I have an idea if we move forward another hundred years they will be using automatic weapons, and hand to hand combat will be antiquated. The calendar system they use calls this the year 1845. I suggest we travel forward to 1945.”

Captain Foren made a snap decision. “All right, we’ll go forward a century. As soon as we arrive, have a patrol go out again.”

When Captain Foren awoke in the morning, the hot desert sun was already well into the sky. The invisible space ship had stationed itself a hundred feet off the ground in an area in which there were no signs of habitation and few of the works of man. He strode leisurely to the control room and returned the greetings of the morning watch.

“Any word from the patrol as yet?” he asked.

First Officer Cajun was worried. “No, sir, and he should’ve been back long before this.”

“I trust nothing has happened to him. Has he reported at all?”

“Only once, several hours ago. Evidently there is a globewide war raging.” Cajun ran his tongue over thin lips. “Our passengers should have excellent sport. In fact, Captain, if you can spare me, I would like to participate myself.”

Captain Foren looked at him and laughed. “You, also? I’m afraid this must be a racial characteristic, this love of imposing death. I must confess, on my first trips, I too liked to join in the sport.” He turned and glanced out an observation port. “What is that steel tower down there on the desert?”

“We couldn’t decide, Captain, unless it’s some structure for conducting tests of some sort or other. The surprising thing about it is that our instruments detect radioactivity.⁠ ⁠…”

The Captain interrupted sharply, “Has anyone checked the ship’s Predictinformer on whether or not this era is completely safe?”

Cajun said, “I assumed that you had, sir.” He stepped to the instrument and spoke into its mouthpiece. “What is the military development of this planet? Is the ship safe?”

The Predictinformer began its report. “ ‘In the past thirty-five years military science on Terra has developed tremendously under the impetus of two worldwide conflicts. At present the dominant power on this continent is experimenting with nuclear fission.⁠ ⁠…’ ”

Sudden fear came into the eyes of the captain of the thrill ship. “That radioactive steel tower! Blast off,” he shrieked, “Blast off!”

The Predictinformer went on dispassionately, “… and is about to test an atomic bomb against which this ship’s defenses would be.⁠ ⁠…”

It got no further.

Not in the Rules

I got the bad news as soon as we landed on Mars. The minute I got off the spacer, the little yellow Martie was standing there with a yellow envelope. He said, “Gladiator Jak Demsi?”

I admitted it and he handed me the envelope. Made me feel kind of good, as though I was somebody important, which I’m not. I’d been