The Stoker and the Stars | Page 2

over. He saw the same things I'd seen. He shook his
head. "Not for you. The only thing we're short on is stokers."

You wouldn't know. There's no such thing as a stoker any more, with
automatic ships. But the stranger knew what Mac meant.
Serenus had what they called an electronic drive. She had to run with
an evacuated engine room. The leaking electricity would have broken
any stray air down to ozone, which eats metal and rots lungs. So the
engine room had the air pumped out of her, and the stokers who tended
the dials and set the cathode attitudes had to wear suits, smelling
themselves for twelve hours at a time and standing a good chance of
cooking where they sat when the drive arced. Serenus was an ugly old
tub. At that, we were the better of the two interstellar freighters the
human race had left.
"You're bound over the border, aren't you?"
MacReidie nodded. "That's right. But--"
"I'll stoke."
MacReidie looked over toward me and frowned. I shrugged my
shoulders helplessly. I was a little afraid of the stranger, too.
The trouble was the look of him. It was the look you saw in the bars
back on Earth, where the veterans of the war sat and stared down into
their glasses, waiting for night to fall so they could go out into the
alleys and have drunken fights among themselves. But he had brought
that look to Mars, to the landing field, and out here there was
something disquieting about it.
He'd caught Mac's look and turned his head to me. "I'll stoke," he
repeated.
I didn't know what to say. MacReidie and I--almost all of the men in
the Merchant Marine--hadn't served in the combat arms. We had
freighted supplies, and we had seen ships dying on the runs--we'd had
our own brushes with commerce raiders, and we'd known enough men
who joined the combat forces. But very few of the men came back, and
the war this man had fought hadn't been the same as ours. He'd

commanded a fighting ship, somewhere, and come to grips with things
we simply didn't know about. The mark was on him, but not on us. I
couldn't meet his eyes. "O.K. by me," I mumbled at last.
I saw MacReidie's mouth turn down at the corners. But he couldn't
gainsay the man any more than I could. MacReidie wasn't a mumbling
man, so he said angrily: "O.K., bucko, you'll stoke. Go and sign on."
"Thanks." The stranger walked quietly away. He wrapped a hand
around the cable on a cargo hook and rode into the hold on top of some
freight. Mac spat on the ground and went back to supervising his end of
the loading. I was busy with mine, and it wasn't until we'd gotten the
Serenus loaded and buttoned up that Mac and I even spoke to each
other again. Then we talked about the trip. We didn't talk about the
stranger.
* * * * *
Daniels, the Third, had signed him on and had moved him into the
empty bunk above mine. We slept all in a bunch on the
Serenus--officers and crew. Even so, we had to sleep in shifts, with the
ship's designers giving ninety per cent of her space to cargo, and eight
per cent to power and control. That left very little for the people, who
were crammed in any way they could be. I said empty bunk. What I
meant was, empty during my sleep shift. That meant he and I'd be
sharing work shifts--me up in the control blister, parked in a soft chair,
and him down in the engine room, broiling in a suit for twelve hours.
But I ate with him, used the head with him; you can call that rubbing
elbows with greatness, if you want to.
He was a very quiet man. Quiet in the way he moved and talked. When
we were both climbing into our bunks, that first night, I introduced
myself and he introduced himself. Then he heaved himself into his
bunk, rolled over on his side, fixed his straps, and fell asleep. He was
always friendly toward me, but he must have been very tired that first
night. I often wondered what kind of a life he'd lived after the
war--what he'd done that made him different from the men who simply

grew older in the bars. I wonder, now, if he really did do anything
different. In an odd way, I like to think that one day, in a bar, on a day
that seemed like all the rest to him when it began, he suddenly looked
up with some new thought, put down his glass, and walked straight to
the Earth-Mars shuttle field.
He might have