Habit by Lester del Rey

Author:Lester del Rey [Rey, Lester Del]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci Fi Short Story
Publisher: Astounding Science Fiction
Published: 1939-11-23T00:00:00+00:00

The howler was banging in my ear when I woke up. I reached over and cut on, noting that the chronometer said sixteen hours out of Kor.

“Special bulletin to all pilots,” said the ultra-wave set. “The Bouncing Betty, piloted by James MacIntyre, is now out of the race. MacIntyre reports that, in cutting too close to the ecliptic, he was struck by a small meteor, and has suffered the loss of three main tubes. While out of the running, he feels confident of reaching Kor safely on his own power.

“This leaves Olsen of the Tar Baby and Masters of the Umatifa in the lead by a long margin. Come in, Olsen.”

Olsen’s voice held a note of unholy glee that the obvious fatigue he was feeling couldn’t hide. “Still holding two and a quarter, heart good, breathing only slightly labored; no head pains. Position at approximately twenty-tw o and a half million miles from Kor; speed, two million eight hundred thousand per hour. Confident of winning.”

“Report acknowledged, Olsen. Come in, Masters.”

I tried to sound careless, but I guess I failed. “Acceleration at two, holding course beautifully on autopilot, rising over ecliptic. Body and ship standing up O. K. Pyrometer indications of tube lining very satisfactory. Position, twenty million miles out; speed, two and a half million. No signs of meteors up here. Can you give next highest acceleration below me?”

Already it took time for the messages to reach Kor and return, and I tried to locate Olsen with his two-and-a-half-million-mile lead. Even if he cut down to two now. the race seemed a certainty for him—unless something happened. Finally the report came back.

“Burkes, on the Salvador, reports one and three quarters, refuses to try higher. „ No others above that except yourself and Olsen. Are you going to match the Tar Baby?”

Match the Tar Baby, indeed, and run short of fuel or blow-up! “No chance. Still expect to win, though.”

Well, at least it would sound nice back home, and it might worry Olsen a little. He was too conceited about his speed. But I couldn’t see myself making good. Even if I cut closer to the ecliptic, it wouldn’t save enough time to count, and the risk wasn’t worth while. I dug into my store of concentrates and satisfied a raving hunger— double weight takes double energy, just as it does sleep. The only thing I could think of was to wish I could maintain acceleration all the way, instead of just half.

That’s the trouble with racing. You accelerate with all you’ve got half the way, then turn around and decelerate just as hard until you reach your goal; then you repeat the whole thing in getting back. The result is that as soon as you reach top speed, you have to check it, and you average only a part of what you can do. If there were just something a man could get a grip on in space to slew around, instead of stopping dead, every record made would go to pieces the next day.

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