Quest on Phoebe
Date: 2021-01-07T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science fiction; Short stories; Immortality -- Fiction; Phoebe (Satellite) -- Fiction

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Quest on Phoebe

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Quest on Phoebe

Author: James R. Adams

Illustrator: H. W. Kiemle

Release date: January 7, 2021 [eBook #64228]

Language: English

Credits: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEST ON PHOEBE ***

QUEST ON PHOEBE

By James R. Adams

Savagely, Ron Farr tore and blasted through the
Saturnian moon's jungle, snarling at the timid
natives to keep their distance. He sought
eternal life—and they might get in his way....

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1947.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Others before him had tried—and failed. Ron Farr meant to succeed. He had come fully prepared to surmount whatever obstacles might lie in his path, to conquer the dread guardian jungle and its unknown terrors and return triumphant to Earth, master of destiny and possessor of undreamed of power.

Farr knew the obstacles would be there, for he sought the secret of eternal life, the fabulous elixir that lay hidden somewhere on Phoebe, enigmatic moon of Saturn, and there was little doubt in his mind that the ancients of the ringed planet had made ample provision for the protection of this, their most cherished treasure. One by one, a dozen eager men had gone in quest of the secret—none had returned. That was enough proof for him.

But, in spite of this grim evidence, Farr was not afraid. He was ready to face death itself, if need be, to gain the goal that would prostrate the world at his feet. He was ready to face death, but he had taken every precaution against it. For instance, in selecting a likely landing place, he had shunned the area in which the life secret was reputed to be, for his instruments had detected some sort of force-field above the region. Invisible to the eye, the field would have crushed his ship in an instant, had he attempted to enter the area without consulting the instrument panel.

The region was boxed in on three sides by sheer cliffs, leaving but one avenue of approach. That was through the dense and foreboding jungle that stretched for miles across the face of the canyon.

Farr had taken that avenue. Now, as he stepped from his ship and regarded the jungle's fringe with clear, steady eyes, he looked anything but the ruthless brigand he was.

Straight black hair, high forehead, firm, unsmiling lips—all gave the man the appearance of a gentlemanly scholar. But behind those austere features lurked a cunning, treacherous mind. That he should be seeking the secret of eternal life in so surreptitious a manner was proof that the gaining of it would be put to his own advantage, and not to the benefit of mankind.

Now the thin lips parted in a wry smile as his searching gaze focused on a group of watchful creatures gathered silently at the jungle's edge. Somber eyes stared unwinkingly back at him.

Harmless beings, these, the Mumums of Phoebe. They resembled Earthly pygmies in stature, but were wholly alien in anatomy. Hairless and ebon-skinned, they wore only a loincloth as protection against the elements. Depending from this brief garment by means of a length of chain swung a small silvery, tubelike affair. Some sort of tribal fetish, Farr thought, intended to ward off evil spirits. The tubes gave off a musical tinkling whenever the pygmies moved, and he almost had to laugh at their ignorance in believing such nonsense could avert sickness and injury.

They seemed to be attempting to bar his way. He drew his blaster and balanced it in his hand, smiling grimly. If nothing more ferocious than these miserable beings were to test his strength and cunning, securing the life secret was going to be an easy task.

He stepped forward. The Mumums did not move. His steps brought him closer, and still they remained in his way. Farr curled his lips and raised his blaster. If it was necessary to teach them a lesson, he would.

One more stride and he would be touching them. "You asked for it," he gritted and squeezed the release.

"You asked for it," he gritted and squeezed the release.

There was a hissing crack and a bright stab of flame. The Mumum in front of Farr fell stiffly over backwards without a sound, an ugly smoking hole drilled clean through him. The others cringed and drew back as Farr swung the blaster in a threatening arc. "Get the idea?" he grinned.

Sweat plastered Farr's shirt to his back and streamed copiously down his masklike face. It was only an hour since he had entered the jungle, but already he was beginning to tire. His wiry muscles ached and his breath came wheezily, laboriously. Wearily he sat down on a porous rock and produced a vacuum-carton from his tunic pocket. The mushy food mixture contained in the carton was tasteless, but nourishing, and he ate in contemplative silence, keeping a wary eye on the foliage around him.

Thus far he had successfully avoided contact with malignant life-forms, but he did not allow this fact to lull him into a complacence that might prove his undoing. Even though the jungle denizens had not yet manifested themselves, he knew they were there, waiting for him to grow lax in his vigilance, waiting for his eyes to close in sleep—a sleep from which he would never awaken.

The Mumums—the pygmy people—were still with him. They stood a few feet away, soulful eyes watching him devour his meal. Their stares vaguely irritated Farr. What made it the worse, was that they never uttered a sound, but just watched silently, fingering those crazy silver tubes, moving when he moved, freezing into immobility when he called a halt, always keeping between him and the goal toward which he progressed.

Farr uttered a sneering laugh. They couldn't stop him! Let them stare. Let their saucer eyes reproach him. He would go on and emerge from the jungle with the secret that would place the fate of the world in his hands.

He laughed again and wiped the last particles of the meal from his lips. The food was making him sleepy. Gratefully he allowed leaden lids to close over sun-dazzled eyes. A keen sense of danger prodded his drowsy mind, telling him to awake, to throw off the torpor before the perils of the jungle closed in on him.

By will-power alone, Farr forced his eyes open and strove desperately to rise. He seemed to be rooted to the rock, and the insidious lump of matter was sucking out his life-force, draining him of vitality. Where he had been prepared to face fang and claw, this inanimate foe had caught him completely off-guard and was swiftly fulfilling the purpose for which it had been placed here—the destruction of interlopers who sought the secret of immortality by way of the jungle.

A less determined man than Farr would have succumbed to that compelling force, would have fallen back on the stone and let the life flow from his exhausted body. But Farr was made of stern stuff, and as long as there was life in him, there was fight.

Sweat stood out in glistening beads on his forehead and his lips compressed in a bloodless slit as he marshaled his powers of concentration. Slowly his hand moved to his side, clutching at the blaster that hung there. Minutes passed as his fingers closed around the butt of the gun and inched it from the holster.

His thumb adjusted the weapon to a tight beam, then he was aiming it steadily at the rock. A thin finger of flame lanced out and drilled into the porous stone, devouring it hungrily. A moment later he leaped free as the chunk of mineral cracked under the heat and suddenly collapsed in a pile of jumbled fragments.

Farr was too shaken for a moment to do anything but stare in horror at the cooling pieces of the devil stone. Then, reaction over, he became his calculating, impassive self again. Reflection on the fate he had narrowly averted was not for him; he must push on. But he did marvel at the cleverness of the ancients of Saturn in placing the stone here. It had come close to getting him—too close, for he felt strangely lethargic and weak.

Groping in a pocket he brought forth a vitamin capsule and popped it in his mouth. The potent stuff went to work immediately and shortly Farr could feel his energy returning, slowly at first, then faster as the capsule's contents worked through his bloodstream.

Feeling better, he tested his legs, then moved forward once more, resuming his interrupted progress through the brooding jungle. Before him the ever-present Mumums retreated slowly, backing away through the underbrush, always with their sad eyes fixed unwaveringly on the intruder.

Farr had come to hate those eyes, in the short space of time he had known the creatures. Though he realized now that neither they nor their owners could do him harm, still he was somehow disturbed by the intent and mournful gaze.

Shrugging off the feeling, he plodded on, moving ever toward the distant goal in utter defiance of the terrors lurking around him. Farr would not be denied his triumph and, now that he knew what to look for, he kept a wary eye out for other such diabolical traps as the devil stone.

But, in spite of his caution, he had not the least suspicion of the next snare that lay in his path, and he was hopelessly enmeshed in it before his confused mind could understand what was happening.

He had been advancing on a small grassy clearing, and as he reached its edge he stopped to regard it dubiously. The wood-free tract seemed innocent enough, and its flat expanse offered no concealment for contrivances intended to dispose of meddlers. Satisfied that it was safe, he set foot on the clearing and moved quickly across it.

Halfway across, Farr felt the ground shake under him and a low muffled droning began somewhere far below. He knew then that it was a trap, and with the celerity of one pursued by a fiend, lengthened his stride into a desperate run. But it was too late.

Things suddenly went black, and with the abrupt darkness that fell over his eyes, Farr stumbled and fell face forward in the grass. Panic-stricken, he clambered to his feet and passed a hand across his face. He saw only blackness.

"My Lord!" he cried in horror. "I'm blind!"

Farr could feel his lips moving, knew that his frantic brain had commanded the vocal organs to speak the words—but he could not hear them. He was deaf, too. Blind and deaf! Walking through the glade, his footsteps had set in action machinery buried deep in the earth, machinery that emitted a penetrating ray, blanking out the senses of sight and hearing. Now, surely, his quest would end in blind groping through the forest, till some ravenous denizen would put a stop to his misery.

Flinging his head back, Farr laughed shrilly, madly. Facing the guns of the planetary police, he had never known the feel of fear, but he knew it now; fear of the darkness, fear of the silence that pressed in on him. He cried out again, but not the least sound pierced the stillness in his brain.

He suddenly lunged forward and ran screaming through the glade. He did not stop until he felt the undergrowth of the jungle whipping about his legs, then he sank to the ground in a cringing heap, sobbing out his despair and beating his fists against his temples.

For an hour he sat there, staring sightlessly into space. Frenzy gave way to apathy, and he no longer strove to fight off the implacable blackness and quiet that filled his world. Death would come soon, creeping and crawling through the brush, and he could do nothing but sit and wait for it, without hope of defending himself.

Despite his despair, Farr was not the least bit penitent. He had played the game and lost, and now he was ready to pay the price of failure. His only regret was that he had fallen short of his goal, had been cheated of it by the infernal ray device, one of the many traps that had been placed throughout the jungle by the now long-dead ancients of Saturn.

His features hardened as he thought again of the secret those pitfalls guarded—the secret of immortality. If only he could yet reach it! Fumble his way through the jungle somehow and take the treasure from its cursed temple. He could still be master of the world, if he could accomplish that, master of all worlds, in fact, for who would not prostrate himself for the chance of possessing eternal life?

But it was hopeless, Farr knew. He could wander around in here until he dropped, and still be no nearer his destination than when he started. Nor could he find his way back to the ship, navigate the distance to Earth and have his eyes and ears operated on by some unprincipled, yet skillful surgeon. No, he would never have another chance at the life secret, never return to civilization with the power that he—

What was that? Was it a glimmer of light in the darkness?

Farr's heart leaped with sudden hope. Was his mind playing him tricks, or was his sight returning? He climbed to his feet, straining his eyes at the pinpoint of light. No, it wasn't his imagination; his vision was definitely coming back! As he watched, the small patch of brightness grew slowly, expanding, pushing back the fearsome darkness.

"I—I can see again," he whispered, voice shaking with emotion. Then, flaming with new-born spirit, he repeated in a shout, "I can see again!"

His joy knew no bounds as he witnessed the unfolding of this miracle. In short minutes his eyesight had completely returned to normal and his hearing, too, was rapidly improving. He began talking to himself, savoring the sound of each word as it impinged on his eardrums. He caught sight of the Mumums, standing at a distance, mute and motionless as ever, and he yelled to them, "Hi, you ugly things! Am I glad to see you!"

Indeed, Farr was glad to see anything again, after that awful blackness that had blotted out his most precious sense. The ray had been intended to destroy his hearing and sight, but he had escaped its field in time to avoid permanent injury. Had it not been for the unreasoning fear that overwhelmed him, he would have remained there in the glade, to flounder about helplessly and eventually succumb to thirst and hunger.

Now, he was again in full possession of his faculties, and just as determined as ever to continue on to his destination. Twice he had fallen prey to the ingenious devices of the Ancients, and both times emerged unscathed. He was now convinced that the jungle could produce no obstacle that his cunning could not overcome.

Thus decided, Farr took his bearings. Finding that his flight had brought him to that side of the glade nearest his goal, he had nothing to do but resume his march through the lush Phoebe plant-life.

On two occasions during the next few hours he came across grim discoveries, discoveries that made him shudder in spite of his callousness—sun-bleached, grinning skeletons. He found the first one draped over a devil stone, picked free of carrion, mute testimony of the insidious rock's power.

The other lay not far away in a clump of bushes. As Farr approached, the willowy branches of the shrubs whipped into sudden action, flicking gobs of black, gooey matter directly at the surprised spaceman. He dodged aside with a cry of dismay, barely averting contact with the stuff. Several of the viscid wads plopped against the bole of a tree and began eating furiously into the bark.

Eyes bulging, Farr turned and fled, putting distance between himself and the deadly bushes. No wonder there hadn't been much left of that second heap of bones! The shrubs were living acid manufactories, remaining dormant until the approach of a victim, then to spring into life and bombard the prey with gobs of the fatal stuff.

And those blanched remains back there—they had once been living men, like himself, in search of the legendary life secret. But unlike him, they had not been clever enough to elude the pitfalls of the jungle, and had died agonizing deaths, miles short of the goal. Farr was glad it was so, else the secret would not now be there for him to pluck from its pedestal and mold to his own use.

Many hours later, Farr emerged from the jungle to stand at last at the entrance to a desolate canyon. Aching in every muscle, battered, bruised and hardly able to stay on his feet, he felt a surge of new energy as he spied his objective, near the center of the valley.

The temple was old, very old. Its walls were drab gray, as if with the grayness of age, and a great silence hung over it, unbroken by even the strident sounds of insect life. But in spite of its gloomy, tomb-like appearance, there was an air of magnificence about the temple, a faint aura of greatness once known, but long since gone. It was at once beautiful and foreboding, guardian of the heritage left by the Ancients to those with courage and intelligence enough to win it.

Farr was not impressed. Beauty meant nothing to him, save the beauty of power. But he noted the Mumums, still with him, were stirred by the scene. Throughout the trek through the jungle, they had shown no signs of emotion, but now they were milling about restlessly, staring at the temple and chattering excitedly among themselves.

Drawing a deep breath, he moved cautiously into the canyon, blaster ready at his side. There was no telling what hellish devices he had yet to face, and he did not intend to be robbed of the life secret now, having come this far along the road.

Sheer cliffs soared high above on three sides of him, and one look told him that no one could scale those dizzy heights. The Mumums, scampering ahead of him, silver tubes tinkling melodiously, reached the edifice's yawning portal and stood staring apprehensively into the impenetrable darkness. He followed quickly, eager to secure the elixir and leave this dismal canyon far behind.

Twenty feet from the looming entrance, something rattled loosely under his step and he bent to examine the object. A skull. His eyes traveled across the ground and spied the body of the skeleton lying between two boulders. He stepped over to the grisly relic and knelt beside it, regarding it thoughtfully.

Clutched in the bony fingers was a corroded blaster, and through the tatters of the dead man's rotted tunic protruded charred stumps of ribs, grim indication of the last use to which the gun had been put. Suicide! But why? Had the man been enmeshed in some trap from which there was no escape? No; if that were the case Farr himself would now be caught in its toils. At this realization he jumped back with a start, cursing his thoughtlessness in approaching the spot without first examining the surroundings.

But nothing happened and, thus reassured, he moved close again, puzzling over the inexplicable mystery confronting him. To all appearances the man had been free to leave the valley whenever he so willed. Yet he had snuffed out his own life—that last desperate measure one takes when he is faced by some barrier above which his resources cannot lift him.

Tiring of the problem, Farr gave the remains one last scornful look and moved away. He had no sympathy for one who comes out second best in a contest of cunning. But as he walked on to the temple and passed into its shadows he felt a dark premonition of danger edging into his mind.

He paused inside the structure's entrance and switched on a torch, sweeping its beam about the chamber in which he stood. The room was cubical, small, dank and musty with age. Blank walls stared back at him mockingly, and for the briefest instant he again experienced a feeling of impending doom, then it faded as before.

Before moving on into the temple proper, he looked over his shoulder to see if the Mumums had followed. They hadn't. They crowded around the portal, jabbering shrilly and jostling one another in their eagerness to get a better view, but carefully refrained from entering.

Shrugging, he turned away. He had no time to wonder at the stupidity of the Mumums; there were more important matters to look after. Directing the ray of the torch before him he located an inner door and moved through it, heart leaping in sudden excitement at the sight.

There, resting in solitary splendor atop a marble pillar in the center of a vast hall, was the object which he had braved every conceivable type of horror to obtain. Awed in spite of himself, he walked slowly forward, eyes riveted in fascination on the gleaming prize.

Then the spell was gone and he broke into a run, a shout of exultation on his lips. He caught up the object from its pedestal and waved it wildly overhead, brain enfevered by the triumph of the moment. He brought the gleaming metal cylinder in front of his eyes and gazed at it in rapture. Power. This represented more power than any man had known, and plans for its use were already spinning in his brain.

Something rustled dryly in the vacuum container. Powder; it was a powder, rather than a liquid. The legend had erred on that point, but the discrepancy was inconsequential. He peered eagerly at the container, expecting to see the formula of the powder inscribed thereon. There was none, but it did not disturb him. Chemists could analyze the stuff and manufacture it.

Flashing his light once more over the great hall to make certain he had missed nothing, he strode buoyantly to the entrance and passed into the small outer chamber, thrusting the container of powder in his tunic pocket as he went.

Immediately a dazzling brilliance lit up the room. Varicolored lights played about his head, blazed radiantly in his brain and etched every cell in bold relief. Farr fell to his knees, throwing his arms over his eyes in a vain effort to shut out the light. The torment in his mind was unbearable, agonizing.

The door! He had to make it to the door! Stumbling to his feet, he propelled himself on unsteady legs to the entrance, hurtled through it and down the temple steps, where he collapsed in a quivering, gasping heap on the rocky valley floor.

Another narrow escape! He could not guess the nature or effect of the lights, but undoubtedly they had been meant to dispose of him in some hellish fashion. Apparently he had sustained no injury, though his head did feel peculiarly light.

Shaking his head dizzily, Farr arose and felt in his pocket. The cylindrical container was still there, and he breathed a rasping sigh of relief. All that remained now was to return to his ship and rocket Earthward, where his plans for the life secret would immediately be put into effect.

The Mumums brought up the rear now, apparently resigned to the fact that their puny efforts to prevent the theft of the secret had failed. Knowing that he would no longer be confronted by their unwinking gaze was a comfort to Farr, and he moved quickly across the sweltering valley.

Moving rapidly as he was, he had no time to avoid crashing into the towering wall of rock that loomed suddenly in his path. Strangely he felt no pain as he clambered erect, but the very unexpectedness of the collision stunned him, confusing his befuddled mind even more.

There should be no wall here, yet here it was. Farr could not deny that, though he could have sworn it had not been here when he entered the canyon. There was nothing to do but walk around it.

The cliff stretched a hundred yards to either side of him. He began moving along it, a fierce anxiety to escape this infernal place beating in his brain. The inscrutable Mumums followed, pattering along on bare feet.

He had covered what seemed like forty yards, when he stopped and stared in puzzlement at the craggy precipice. He looked back along the wall, then ahead, peered up at its dizzy heights, then down at its smooth base. Color drained from his face and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

He was beaten. Farr knew it. Knew too why that other adventurer had never left the valley, why his brain was spinning and whirling like a mad dervish. The ray in the temple—he could easily guess now what it had done to him. For stone does not move of its own power, and the cliff had moved. Its terminations still reared a hundred yards in either direction from him!

It was an illusion, that wall, an illusion conjured by his own ray-impregnated mind. But for him it was real. He could spend eternity walking along its face, yet never would he reach the end of the barrier.

He watched dully as a Mumum scampered past and melted into the cliff. Maddening to know that the wall existed only in his own mind. He tried to concentrate, tried to nullify the terrible force that had invaded his brain. If he could do that, the cliff-illusion would vanish.

Veins stood out on his forehead with the effort; but the wall remained, seemingly solid as ever to his touch. The ray-force was too powerful.

Farr wanted to scream, wanted to hurl himself at the barrier and pound and tear at it with all the wild energy of a trapped animal. But he couldn't. His emotions were played out. He could only stand like a burnt-out robot, his apathetic eyes following the antics of the Mumums as they popped in and out of the wall-illusion, taunting him, trying to drive him mad with the realization that only he could not pass through it to freedom.

The Ancients had triumphed. The life secret would remain in this valley, eternally guarded by the ingenious ray that warped men's minds and made them see illusions that to them were insuperable actualities. Not until a Master Intellect claimed the heritage for the human race, would it ever leave here.

Farr was not that Master Intellect, and he knew what he must do now. His blaster came slowly from its holster. He brought the gun to his temple.

His finger tightened on the trigger. White fire exploded in his brain, cooking the cells, melting them. A last scream of defiance ripped from Farr's lips, then his form went suddenly limp and crumpled to the ground, to lay silent....

It was Londar's time to return the cylinder to the temple. Its contents were worthless, he knew, but it was the Ancients' command that the ritual be observed, so the pygmy-creature dutifully bent and retrieved the gleaming container and walked slowly with it toward the brooding edifice.

To carry out his mission, Londar would be forced to pass through the Great Lights, and Londar was afraid of the lights, much in the same way savages of Earth fear the magic of witch doctors. But the intelligence of the Mumums was slightly above that of savages, and Londar realized in a vague way that the lights could not harm him, could not do the things to him they had done to the black-haired man from the sky.

For, long ago, he had swallowed several of the mysterious crystals contained in the small silver tube swinging at his waist. The Ancients had commanded him to do that and Londar had complied, as had all his race, out of their great respect and love for the wise ones. The Ancients were gone now, had vanished into the sky many seasons since. But Londar and his people had lived on, ageless, undying, tirelessly performing the strange duties assigned them by the masters.

Some day, another great race would come, and Londar's people would then surrender the silver tubes. The black-haired man might have been the representative of such a race, but he had shown contempt for the Mumums and had slain Kyrrad. That would not be the way of a true people of supreme intellect.

Londar walked on, the silvery tube fastened at his waist tinkling musically in rhythm to his stride.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEST ON PHOEBE ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided that:

- • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

- • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

- • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.

- • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.

Table of Contents

- QUEST ON PHOEBE

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE