Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction March 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
The BLACK TIDE
By Arthur G. Stangland
Illustrated by Ed Valigursky
Space in its far dark reaches can be fickle with a man; itcan shatter his dreams, fill him with fear and hate. It canalso cure a man—if he is strong enough.
t filled all the ebony depths of space. Twirling slowly in awesomemajesty, the meteor scintillated like a massive black diamond. Andwith its onrush came a devastating sense of doom. He lookedeverywhere. To the front, to the side, and below—there was no escape.Transfixed, he stared at the great rock flashing in the fire of myriadsuns as it—
Bill Staker, passenger rocket captain for Interplanetary Lines, camefully awake in his New York hotel room. For a minute, he lay unmovingon his bed, savoring the delicious sensation of weight. No queazystirring in the pit of his belly for lack of gravity, no forcedsquinting because of muscular re-orientation.
With a muttered curse he unwound himself from his covers and sat up.For a moment he rested his head in his hands, thinking, only anightmare, thank God, only a nightmare.
He lifted his head, and found cold sweat on his hands. Then sighing inrelief he swung his feet over the edge of his bed.
A glance at the clock showed 10:45 p.m. Monday, June 10th, 2039.Heavily, he clumped across the room in the peculiar flat-footed gaitof a spaceman accustomed to magnetic contact shoes. Cigarette in handhe sank into a heavy chair, touched a button on the arm, then sat backto watch the telescreen.
It was a rehash of the day's news. In nasal tones a senator wasaccusing the Republicrats of raising taxes. Then followed scenes froma spectacular fire. Suddenly, Bill's drooping eyelids popped open.
The small meteor ripped through the Space Bird'screw compartment, blinding the radar scope and severing communicationwith Earth.A commentator was saying, "... the two rockets of the Staker SpaceMining Company, ready for a scouting trip to the asteroid BetaQuadrant."
A close-up of Tom Staker followed. Tall, rangy, with blond hair likestraw in the wind. Bill laid his cigarette in a tray and with criticalinterest leaned forward to look at his brother.
"We figure to find uranium," Tom was saying, with a glance toward thevertical rockets, "all through the Beta Quadrant. Our departure iswaiting on the return of my brother, Bill, from his Mars-to-Earthrun."
A reporter asked Tom, "Private enterprise is unique in these days ofvirtual monopolies. What's the story behind it?"
"Well, our great-grandfather, George Staker, believed passionately inprivate enterprise," Tom began. "Somewhere around 1952 or 1953 heestablished a tru