Chapter I: Front Matter

CAPTAIN CHAOS

By D. ALLEN MORRISSEY

_Science equipped David Corbin with borrowed time;
sent him winging out in a state of suspension to future
centuries ... to a dark blue world whose only defense
was to seal tight the prying minds of foolish interlopers._

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories November 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

I heard the voice as I opened my eyes. I was lying down, still not aware of where I was, waiting for the voice.

"Your name is David Corbin. Do you understand?"

I looked in the direction of the sound. Above my feet a bulkhead loomed. There were round dials set in a row above a speaker. Over the mesh-covered speaker, two knobs glowed red. I ran the words over in my sluggish mind, thinking about an answer. The muscles in my throat tightened up in reflex as I tried to bring some unity into the jumble of thoughts and ideas that kept forming. One word formed out of the rush of anxiety.

"No."

I shouted a protest against the strangeness of the room. I looked to the right, my eyes following the curving ceiling that started at the cot. The curve met another straight bulkhead on the left. I was in a small room, gray in color, like dull metal. Overhead a bright light burned into my vision. I wondered where in the universe I was.

"Your name is David Corbin. If you understand, press button A on your right."

I stared at the speaker in the wall. The mesh-covered hole and the two lights looked like a caricature of a face, set in a panel of dials. I twisted my head to look for the button. I pushed away from the close wall but I couldn't move. I reached down to the tightness that held my body, found the wide strap that held me and fumbled with the buckle. I threw it off and pushed myself up from the hard cot. I heard myself yell in surprise as I floated up towards the light overhead.

I was weightless.

How do you describe being weightless when you are born into a world bound by gravity. I twisted and shut my eyes in terror. There was no sensation of place, no feeling of up or down, no direction. My back bumped against the ceiling and I opened my eyes to stare at the cot and floor. I was concentrating too hard on remembering to be frightened for long. I pushed away from the warm metal and the floor moved up to meet me.

"If you understand, press button A on your right."

What should I understand? That I was floating in a room that had a curved wall ... that nothing was right in this hostile room?

When I reached the cot I held it and drew myself down. I glanced at the planes of the room, trying to place it with other rooms I could see in my mind. Gray walls with a crazy curved ceiling ... a door to my left that appeared to be air tight.

I stared at my familiar hands. I rubbed them across my face, feeling the solidity of flesh and bone, afraid to think too hard about myself.

"My name ... my name is...."

"Your name is David Corbin."

I stared at the speaker. How long did this go on? The name meant nothing to me, but I thought about it, watching the relentless lights that shone below the dials. I stood up slowly and looked at myself. I was naked except for heavy shorts, and there was no clue to my name in the pockets. The room was warm and the air I had been breathing was good but it seemed wrong to be dressed like this. I didn't know why. I thought about insanity, and the room seemed to fit my thoughts. When the voice repeated the message again I had to act. Walking was like treading water that couldn't be seen or felt.

I floated against the door, twisting the handle in fear that it wouldn't turn. The handle clanged as I pushed it down and I stared at the opposite wall of a narrow gray passageway. I pushed out into it and grasped the metal rail that ran along the wall. I reasoned it was there to propel yourself through the passageway in this weightless atmosphere.

It was effortless to move. I turned on my side like a swimmer and went hand over hand, shooting down the corridor. I braced against forward motion and stopped against a door at the end. Behind me I could see the opened door I had left, and the thought of that questioning voice made me want to move. I swung the door open, catching a glimpse of a room crowded with equipment and....

* * * * *

I will always remember the scream of terror, the paralyzing fright of what I saw through the portholes in the wall of the room. I saw the blackest night, pierced by brilliance that blinded me. There was no depth to the searing brightness of countless stars. They seemed to press against the glass, blobs of fire against a black curtain burning into my eyes and brain.

It was space.

I looked out at deep space, star systems in clusters. I shut my eyes. When I looked again I knew where I was. Why the little room had been shaped like quarter round. Why I drifted weightlessly. Why I was....

David Corbin.

I knew more of the puzzle. Something was wrong. After the first shock of looking out, I accepted the fact that I was in a space ship, yet I couldn't read the maps that were fastened to a table, nor understand the function or design of the compact machinery.

WHY, Why, Why? The thought kept pounding at me. I was afraid to touch anything in the room. I pressed against the clear window, wondering if the stars were familiar. I had a brief vivid picture of a night sky on Earth. This was not the same sky.

Back in the room where I had awakened, I touched the panel with the glowing eyes. It had asked me if I understood. Now it must tell me why I didn't. It had to help me, that flat metallic voice that repeated the same words. It must tell me....

"Your name is David Corbin. If you understand, press button A on your right."

I pressed the button by the cot. The red lights blinked out as I stood in patient attention, trying to outguess the voice. I recalled a phrase ... some words about precaution.

Precaution against forgetting.

It was crazy, but I trusted the panel. It was the only thing I saw that could help me, guard me against another shock like seeing outside of the clear portholes.

"It is assumed the experiment is a success," the voice said.

What experiment?

"You have been removed from suspension. Assume manual control of this ship."

Control of a ship? Going where?

"Do not begin operations until the others are removed from suspension."

What others? Tell me what to do.

"Rely on instructions for factoring when you check the coordinates. Your maximum deviation from schedule cannot exceed two degrees. Adopt emergency procedures as you see fit. Good luck."

The voice snapped off and I laughed hysterically. None of it had made sense, and I cursed whatever madness had put me here.

"Tell me what to do," I shouted wildly. I hammered the hard metal until the pain in my hands made me stop.

"I can't remember what to do."

I held my bruised hands to my mouth, and I knew that was all the message there was. In blind panic I pushed away from the panel. Something tripped me and I fell back in a graceless arc. I pushed away from the floor, barely feeling the pain in my leg, and went into the hall.

Pain burned along my leg but I couldn't stop. In the first panic of waking up in strangeness I had missed the other doors in the passage. The first swung back to reveal a deep closet holding five bulky suits. The second room was like my own. A dark haired, deep chested man lay on the cot. His muscular body was secured by a wide belt. He was as still as death, motionless without warmth or breath as I hovered over him.

I couldn't remember his face.

The next room held another man. He was young and wiry, like an athlete cast in marble, dark haired and big jawed. A glassy eye stared up when I rolled back his eyelid. The eyelid remained open until I closed it and went on. Another room ... another man ... another stranger. This man was tall and raw boned, light of skin and hair, as dead as the others.

A flat, illogical voice had instructed me to revive these men. I shivered in spite of the warmth of the room, studying the black box that squatted on a shelf by his head. My hand shook when I touched the metal. I dared not try to operate anything. Revive the others ... instructions without knowledge were useless to me. I stopped looking into the doors in the passageway and went back to the room with the portholes. Everything lay in readiness, fastened down star charts, instruments, glittering equipment. There was no feeling of disorder or use in the room. It waited for human hands to make it operate.

Not mine. Not now.

I went past the room into another, where the curves were more sharp. I could visualize the tapering hull leading to the nose of the ship. This room was filled with equipment that formed a room out of the bordered area I stood in. I sat in the deep chair facing the panel of dials and instruments, in easy reach. I ran my hands over the dials, the rows of smooth colored buttons, wondering.

The ports on the side were shielded and I stared out at static energy, hung motionless in a world of searing light. There was no distortion, no movement outside and I glanced back at the dials. What speeds were they recording? What speeds and perhaps, what distance? It was useless to translate the markings. They stood for anything I might guess, and something kept pricking my mind, telling me I had no time to guess. I thought of time again. I was supposed to act according to ... plan. Did that mean ... in time ... in time. I went back down the passageway.

* * * * *

The fourth small room was the same. Except for the woman. She lay on a cot, young and beautiful, even in the death-like immobility I had come to accept. Her beauty was graceful lines of face and her figure--smooth tapering legs, soft curves that were carved out of flesh colored stone. Yet not stone. I held her small hand, then put it back on the cot. Her attire was brief like the rest of us, shorts and a man's shirt. Golden hair curled up around her lovely face. I wondered if she would ever smile or move that graceful head. I rolled back her eyelid and looked at a deep blue eye that stared back in glassy surprise. Four people in all, depending on a blind helpless fool who didn't know their names or the reason for that dependence. I sat beside her on the cot until I could stand it no longer.

Searching the ship made me forget my fear. I hoped I would find some answers. I went from the nose to the last bulkhead in a frenzy of floating motion, looking behind each door until I went as far as I could. There were two levels to the ship. They both ended in the lead shield that was set where the swell of the curve was biggest. It meant the engine or engines took up half the ship, cut off from the forward half by the instrument studded shield. I retraced my steps and took a rough estimate of size. The ship, as I called it, was at least four hundred feet long, fifty feet in diameter on the inside.

The silence was a force in itself, pressing down from the metal walls, driving me back to the comforting smallness of the room where I had been reborn. I laughed bitterly, thinking about the aptness of that. I had literally been reborn in this room, equipped with half ideas, and no point to start from, no premise to seek. I sensed the place to start from was back in the room. I searched it carefully.

Minutes later I realized the apparatus by the cot was different. It was the same type of black box, but out from it was a metal arm, bent in a funny angle. At the tip of the arm, a needle gleamed dully and I rubbed the deep gash on my leg. I bent the arm back until the angle looked right. It was then I realized the needle came to a spot where it could have hit my neck when I lay down. My shout of excitement rang out in the room, as I pictured the action of the extended arm. I lost my sudden elation in the cabin where the girl lay. The box behind her head was completely closed, and it didn't yield to the pressure I applied. It had a cover, but no other opening where an arm could extend. I ran my fingers over the unbroken surface, prying over the thin crack at the base helplessly. If some sort of antidote was to be administered manually I was lost. I had no knowledge of what to inject or where to look for it. The chamber of the needle that had awakened me was empty. That meant a measured amount.

In the laboratory on the lower level I went over the rows of cans and tubes fastened to the shelves. There were earths and minerals, seeds and chemicals, testing equipment in compact drawers, but nothing marked for me. I wondered if I was an engineer or a pilot, or perhaps a doctor sent along to safeguard the others. Complete amnesia would have been terrible enough but this half knowledge, part awareness and association with the ship was a frightening force that seemed ready to break out of me.

I went back to the cabin where the powerful man lay. I had to risk failure with one of them. I didn't want it to be the girl. I fought down the thought that he might be the key man, remembering the voice that had given the message. It was up to me, and soon. The metal in the box would have withstood a bullet. It couldn't be pried apart, and I searched again and again for a release mechanism.

I found it.

I swung the massive cover off and set it down. The equipment waited for the touch of a button and it went into operation. I stepped back as the tubes glowed to life and the arm swung down with the gleaming needle. The needle went into the corded neck of the man. The fluid chamber drained under pressure and the arm moved back.

I stood by the man for long minutes. Finally it came. He stirred restlessly, closing his hands into fists. The deep chest rose and fell unevenly as he breathed. Finally the eyes opened and he looked at me. I watched him adjust to the room. It was in his eyes, wide at first, moving about the confines of the room back to me.

"It looks like we made it," he said.

"Yes."

He unfastened the belt and sat up. I pushed him back as he floated up finding little humor in the comic expression on his face.

"No gravity," he grunted and sat back.

"You get used to it fast," I answered. I thought of what to say as he watched me. "How do you feel?"

He shrugged at the question. "Fine, I guess. Funny, I can't remember."

He saw it in my face, making him stop. "I can't remember dropping off to sleep," he finished.

I held his hard arm. "What else? How much do you remember?"

"I'm all right," he answered. "There aren't supposed to be any effects from this."

"Who is in charge of this ship?" I asked.

He tensed suddenly. "You are, sir. Why?"

I moved away from the cot. "Listen, I can't remember. I don't know your name or anything about this ship."

"What do you mean? What can't you remember?" he asked. He stood up slowly, edging around towards the door. I didn't want to fight him. I wanted him to understand. "Look, I'm in trouble. Nothing fits, except my name."

"You don't know me?"

"No."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, yes. I don't know why but it's happened."

He let his breath out in a whistle. "For God's sake. Any bump on your head?"

"I feel all right physically. I just can't place enough."

"The others. What about the others?" he blurted.

"I don't know. You're the first besides myself. I don't know how I stumbled on the way to revive you."

He shook his head, watching me like I was a freak. "Let's check the rest right away."

"Yes. I've got to know if they are like me. I'm afraid to think they might be."

"Maybe it's temporary. We can figure something out."