The Project Gutenberg EBook of Quest of Thig, by Basil Wells
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'll have
to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
Title: Quest of Thig
Author: Basil Wells
Release Date: May 22, 2020 [EBook #62198]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEST OF THIG ***
Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
QUEST OF THIG
By BASIL WELLS
Thig of Ortha was the vanguard of the conquering
"HORDE." He had blasted across trackless space
to subdue a defenseless world--only to meet on
Earth emotions that were more deadly than weapons.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1942.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Thig carefully smoothed the dark sand and seaweed of the lonely beach
over the metal lid of the flexible ringed tunnel that linked the grubby
ship from another planet with the upper air. He looked out across the
heaving waters of the Sound toward Connecticut. He stared appraisingly
around at the luxuriant green growth of foliage further inland; and
started toward the little stretch of trees and brush, walking carefully
because of the lesser gravitation.
Thig was shorter than the average Earthman--although on Ortha he
was well above the average in height--but his body was thick and
powerfully muscled. His skull was well-shaped and large; his features
were regular, perhaps a trifle oversize, and his hair and eyes were
a curiously matching blend of reddish brown. Oddest of all, he wore
no garments, other than the necessary belt and straps to support his
rod-like weapon of white metal and his pouches for food and specimens.
The Orthan entered the narrow strip of trees and crossed to the
little-used highway on the other side. Here he patiently sat down to
wait for an Earthman or an Earthwoman to pass. His task now was to
bring a native, intact if possible, back to the carefully buried space
cruiser where his two fellows and himself would drain the creature's
mentality of all its knowledge. In this way they could learn whether a
planet was suited for colonization by later swarms of Orthans.
Already they had charted over a hundred celestial bodies but of them
all only three had proven worthy of consideration. This latest planet,
however, 72-P-3 on the chart, appeared to be an ideal world in every
respect. Sunlight, plenty of water and a dense atmospheric envelope
made of 72-P-3 a paradise among planets.
The explorer from another world crouched into the concealment of a
leafy shrub. A creature was approaching. Its squat body was covered
with baggy strips of bluish cloth and it carried a jointed rod of metal
and wood in its paw. It walked upright as did the men of Ortha.
Thig's cold eyes opened a trifle wider as he stared into the thing's
stupid face. It was as though he was looking into a bit of polished
metal at the reflection of himself!
The Earthman was opposite now and he must waste no more precious
time. The mighty muscles of the Orthan sent him hurtling across the
intervening space in two prodigious bounds, and his hands clamped
across the mouth and neck of the stranger....
* * * * *
Lewis Terry was going fishing. For a week the typewriter mill that had
ground out a thousand assorted yarns of the untamed West and the frigid
desolation of the Northwoods had been silent. Lewis wondered if he was
going stale. He had sat every day for eight hours in front of that
shiny-buttoned bane of the typist, but there were no results. Feebly
he had punched a key two days ago and a $ sign had appeared. He hadn't
dared touch the machine since.
For Mr. Terry, that hard-hitting writer of two-gun action, had never
been further west of Long Island than Elizabeth, and he had promised
his wife, Ellen, that he would take the three children and herself on
a trailer tour of the _West_ that very summer. Since that promise, he
could not write a word. Visions of whooping red-skinned Apaches and
be-chapped outlaws raiding his little trailer home kept rolling up out
of his subconscious. Yet he _had_ to write at least three novelets and
a fistful of short stories in the next two weeks to finance the great
adventure--or the trip was off.
So Lewis left the weathered old cottage in the early dawn and headed
for his tubby old boat at the landing in an attempt to work out a
salable yarn....
"Hey!" he shouted as a naked man sprang out of the bushes beside the
road. "What's the trouble?"
Then he had no time for further speech, the massive arms of the
stranger had wound around him and two hamlike hands shut off his speech
and his wind. He fought futilely against trained muscles. The hand
clamping his throat relaxed for a moment and hacked along the side of
his head. Blackness flooded the brain of Lewis, and he knew no more.
* * * * *
"There it is," announced Thig, dropping the limp body of the captured
Earthman to the metal deck-plates. "It is a male of the species that
must have built the cities we saw as we landed."
"He resembles Thig," announced Kam. "But for the strange covering he
wears he might be Thig."
"Thig will be this creature!" announced Torp. "With a psychic relay we
will transfer the Earthman's memories and meager store of knowledge to
the brain of Thig! He can then go out and scout this world without
arousing suspicion. While he is gone, I will take Kam and explore the
two inner planets."
"You are the commander," said Thig. "But I wish this beast did not wear
these clumsy sheathing upon his body. On Ortha we do not hamper the use
of our limbs so."
"Do not question the word of your commander," growled Torp, swelling
out his thick chest menacingly. "It is for the good of our people that
you disguise yourself as an Earthman."
"For the good of the Horde," Thig intoned almost piously as he lifted
Terry's body and headed for the laboratory.
Service for the Horde was all that the men of Ortha knew. Carefully
cultured and brought to life in the laboratories of their Horde, they
knew neither father nor mother. Affection and love were entirely
lacking in their early training and later life. They were trained
antlike from childhood that only the growth and power of the Horde
were of any moment. Men and women alike toiled and died like unfeeling
robots of flesh and bone for the Horde. The Horde was their religion,
their love-life, their everything!
So it was that the bodies of the Earthman and the Orthan were strapped
on two parallel tables of chill metal and the twin helmets, linked to
one another by the intricacies of the psychic relay, put upon their
heads.
For ten hours or more the droning hum of the relay sucked Terry's brain
dry of knowledge. The shock upon the nervous system of the Earthman
proved too violent and his heart faltered after a time and stopped
completely. Twice, with subtle drugs they restored pseudo-life to his
body and kept the electrical impulses throbbing from his tortured
brain, but after the third suspension of life Thig removed his helmet.
"There is nothing more to learn," he informed his impassive comrades.
"Now, let us get on with the plastic surgery that is required. My new
body must return to its barbaric household before undue attention is
aroused. And when I return I will take along some of the gleaming
baubles we found on the red planet--these people value them highly."
An hour later, his scars and altered cartilage already healed and
painless, Thig again scraped sand over the entrance to the space ship
and set out along the moonlit beach toward the nearest path running
inland to his home.
Memory was laying the country bare about him, Terry's own childhood
memories of this particular section of Long Island. Here was the place
where Jake and Ted had helped him dig for the buried treasure that
old 'Notch-ear' Beggs had told them so exactly about. Remembrance of
that episode gave Thig an idea about the little lump of jewels in his
pocket. He had found them in a chest along the beach!
He was coming up on the porch now and at the sound of his foot on
the sagging boards the screen door burst open and three little
Earth-creatures were hugging at his legs. An odd sensation, that his
acquired memories labeled as pleasure, sent a warm glow upward from
around his heart.
Then he saw the slender red-haired shape of a woman, the mate of the
dead man he knew, and confusion struck his well-trained brain. Men
had no mates on Ortha, sex had been overthrown with all the other
primitive impulses of barbarism; so he was incapable of understanding
the emotions that swept through his acquired memory.
Unsteadily he took her in his arms and felt her warm lips pressed,
trembling, against his own. That same hot wave of pulsing blood choked
achingly up into his throat.
"Lew, dear," Ellen was asking, "where have you been all day? I called
up at the landing but you were not there. I wanted to let you know that
Saddlebag Publications sent a check for $50 for "Reversed Revolvers"
and three other editors asked for shorts soon."
* * * * *
"Shoulda got a hundred bucks for that yarn," grunted Thig, and gasped.
For the moment he had been Lewis Terry and not Thig! So thoroughly had
he acquired the knowledge of Terry that he found himself unconsciously
adopting the thinking and mannerism of the other. All the better this
way, he realized--more natural.
"Sorry I was late," he said, digging into his pocket for the
glittering baubles, "but I was poking around on the beach where we used
to hunt treasure and I found an old chest. Inside it I found nothing
but a handful of these."
He flashed the jewels in front of Ellen's startled eyes and she clung,
unbelieving, to his arm.
"Why, Lew," she gasped, "they're worth a fortune! We can buy that new
trailer now and have a rebuilt motor in the car. We can go west right
away.... Hollywood, the Grand Canyon, cowboys!"
"Uh huh," agreed the pseudo Lewis, memories of the ferocious savages
and gunmen of his stories rendering him acutely unhappy. Sincerely he
hoped that the west had reformed.
"I saved some kraut and weiners," Ellen said. "Get washed up while I'm
warming them up. Kids ate all the bread so I had to borrow some from
the Eskoes. Want coffee, too?"
"Mmmmmm," came from the depths of the chipped white wash-basin.
* * * * *
"Home again," whispered Ellen as she stood beside Thig twelve weeks
later and gazed tearfully at the weathered little gray house. She knelt
beside the front stoop and reached for the key hidden beneath it.
"The west was wonderful; tremendous, vast and beautiful," she went
on as they climbed the steps, "but nowhere was there any place as
beautiful as our own little strip of sky and water."
Thig sank into a dusty old swing that hung on creaking chains from the
exposed rafters of the porch roof. He looked down at the dusty gray car
and the bulbous silvery bulk of the trailer that had been their living
quarters for almost three months. Strange thoughts were afloat in the
chaos of his cool Orthan brain.
Tonight or tomorrow night at the latest he must contact his two fellows
and report that Earth was a planetary paradise. No other world,
including Ortha, was so well-favored and rich. An expeditionary force
to wipe the grotesque civilizations of Earth out of existence would,
of course, be necessary before the first units of new Hordes could be
landed. And there Thig balked. Why must they destroy these people,
imperfect though their civilization might be, to make room for the
Hordes?
Thig tried to tell himself that it was the transmitted thoughts of the
dead Earthman that made him feel so, but he was not too sure. For three
months he had lived with people who loved, hated, wept and sacrificed
for reasons that he had never known existed. He had learned the heady
glory of thinking for himself and making his own decisions. He had
experienced the primitive joy of matching his wits and tongue against
the wits of other unpredictable human beings. There was no abrupt
division of men and women into definite classes of endeavor. A laborer
thought the same thoughts that a governor might think. Uncertainty
added zest to every day's life.
The Orthan had come to question the sole devotion of the individual to
the Horde to the exclusion of all other interests. What, he wondered,
would one new world--or a hundred--populated by the Hordes add to
the progress of humanity? For a hundred thousand years the Orthan
civilization had remained static, its energies directed into certain
well-defined channels. They were mindless bees maintaining their vast
mechanical hives.
There was that moment on the brink of the Grand Canyon when Ellen had
caught his arm breathlessly at all the beauty spread away there beneath
them. There were mornings in the desert when the sun painted in lurid
red the peaks above the harsh black-and-whites of the sagebrush and
cactus slopes. There was the little boy, his body burning with fever,
who nestled trustingly against his tense man's body and slept--the son
of Ellen and the man he had destroyed.
Thig groaned. He was a weakling to let sentimentality so get the better
of his judgment. He would go now to the space ship and urge them to
blast off for Ortha. He sprang off the porch and strode away down the
road toward the beach.
The children ran to him; wanted to go along. He sent them away harshly
but they smiled and waved their brown little hands. Ellen came to the
door and called after him.
"Hurry home, dear," she said. "I'll have a bite ready in about an hour."
He dared not say anything, for his voice would have broken and she
would have known something was wrong. She was a very wise sort of
person when something was troubling him. He waved his stubby paw of a
hand to show that he had heard, and blindly hurried toward the Sound.
Oddly enough, as he hurried away along the narrow path through the
autumn woods, his mind busied itself with a new epic of the west that
lived no longer. He mentally titled it: "Rustlers' Riot" and blocked
in the outlines of his plot. One section of his brain was that of the
careless author of gunslinging yarns, a section that seemed to be
sapping the life from his own brain. He knew that the story would never
be written, but he toyed with the idea.
So far had Thig the emotionless, robot-being from Ortha drifted from
the unquestioning worship of the Horde!
* * * * *
"You have done well," announced Torp when Thig had completed his report
on the resources and temperatures of various sections of Terra. "We now
have located three worlds fit for colonization and so we will return to
Ortha at once.
"I will recommend the conquest of this planet, 72-P-3 at once and the
complete destruction of all biped life upon it. The mental aberrations
of the barbaric natives might lead to endless complications if they
were permitted to exist outside our ordered way of life. I imagine that
three circuits of the planet about its primary should prove sufficient
for the purposes of complete liquidation."
"But why," asked Thig slowly, "could we not disarm all the natives and
exile them on one of the less desirable continents, Antarctica for
example or Siberia? They are primitive humans even as our race was once
a race of primitives. It is not our duty to help to attain our own
degree of knowledge and comfort?"
"Only the good of the Horde matters!" shouted Torp angrily. "Shall a
race of feeble-witted beasts, such as these Earthmen, stand in the way
of a superior race? We want their world, and so we will take it. The
Law of the Horde states that all the universe is ours for the taking."
"Let us get back to Ortha at once, then," gritted out Thig savagely.
"Never again do I wish to set foot upon the soil of this mad planet.
There are forces at work upon Earth that we of Ortha have long
forgotten."
"Check the blood of Thig for disease, Kam," ordered Torp shortly. "His
words are highly irrational. Some form of fever perhaps native to this
world. While you examine him I will blast off for Ortha."
Thig followed Kam into the tiny laboratory and found a seat beside the
squat scientist's desk. His eyes roamed over the familiar instruments
and gauges, each in its own precise position in the cases along the
walls. His gaze lingered longest on the stubby black ugliness of
a decomposition blaster in its rack close to the deck. A blast of
the invisible radiations from that weapon's hot throat and flesh or
vegetable fiber rotted into flaky ashes.
The ship trembled beneath their feet; it tore free from the feeble
clutch of the sand about it, and they were rocketing skyward. Thig's
broad fingers bit deep into the unyielding metal of his chair. Suddenly
he knew that he must go back to Earth, back to Ellen and the children
of the man he had helped destroy. He loved Ellen, and nothing must
stand between them! The Hordes of Ortha must find some other world, an
empty world--this planet was not for them.
"Turn back!" he cried wildly. "I must go back to Earth. There is a
woman there, helpless and alone, who needs me! The Horde does not need
this planet."
Kam eyed him coldly and lifted a shining hypodermic syringe from its
case. He approached Thig warily, aware that disease often made a maniac
of the finest members of the Horde.
"No human being is more important than the Horde," he stated baldly.
"This woman of whom you speak is merely one unit of the millions we
must eliminate for the good of the Horde."
Then it was that Thig went berserk. His fists slashed into the thick
jaw of the scientist and his fingers ripped at the hard cords overlying
the Orthan's vital throat tubes. His fingers and thumb gouged deep into
Kam's startled throat and choked off any cry for assistance before it
could be uttered.
Kam's hand swept down to the holster swung from his intricate harness
and dragged his blaster from it. Thig's other hand clamped over his and
for long moments they swayed there, locked together in silent deadly
struggle. The fate of a world hung in the balance as Kam's other hand
fought against that lone arm of Thig.
* * * * *
The scales swung in favor of Kam. Slowly the flaring snout of his
weapon tilted upward until it reached the level of Thig's waist. Thig
suddenly released his grip and dragged his enemy toward him. A sudden
reversal of pressure on Kam's gun hand sent the weapon swivelling
about full upon its owner's thick torso. Thig's fingers pressed down
upon Kam's button finger, down upon the stud set into the grip of the
decomposition blaster, and Kam's muscles turned to water. He shrieked.
Before Thig's eyes half of his comrade's body sloughed away into foul
corruption that swiftly gave way to hardened blobs of dessicated
matter. Horror for what he had done--that he had slain one of his own
Horde--made his limbs move woodenly. All of his thoughts were dulled
for the moment. Painfully slow, he turned his body around toward the
control blister, turned around on leaden feet, to look full into the
narrowed icy eyes of his commander.
He saw the heavy barrel of the blaster slashing down against his
skull but he could not swing a fraction of an inch out of the way.
His body seemed paralyzed. This was the end, he thought as he waited
stupidly for the blow to fall, the end for Ellen and the kids and all
the struggling races of Earth. He would never write another cowboy
yarn--they would all be dead anyhow soon.
Then a thunderclap exploded against his head and he dropped endlessly
toward the deck. Blows rained against his skull. He wondered if Torp
would ever cease to hammer at him and turn the deadly ray of the weapon
upon him. Blood throbbed and pounded with every blow....
* * * * *
Bam, Bam, Bam, the blood pounded in his ears. Like repeated blows of a
hammer they shook his booming head. No longer was Torp above him. He
was in the corner of the laboratory, a crumpled blood-smeared heap of
bruised flesh and bone. He was unfettered and the blood was caked upon
his skull and in his matted hair. Torp must have thought he had killed
him with those savage blows upon the head.
Even Torp, thought Thig ruefully, gave way to the primitive rage of his
ancestors at times; but to that very bit of unconscious atavism he now
owed his life. A cool-headed robot of an Orthan would have efficiently
used the blaster to destroy any possibility of remaining life in his
unconscious body.
Thig rolled slowly over so that his eye found the door into the control
room. Torp would be coming back again to dispose of their bodies
through the refuse lock. Already the body of Kam was gone. He wondered
why he had been left until last. Perhaps Torp wished to take cultures
of his blood and tissues to determine whether a disease was responsible
for his sudden madness.
The cases of fragile instruments were just above his head. Association
of memories brought him the flash of the heavy blaster in its rack
beneath them. His hand went up and felt the welcome hardness of the
weapon. He tugged it free.
In a moment he was on his knees crawling across the plates of the deck
toward the door. Halfway across the floor he collapsed on his face,
the metal of the gun making a harsh clang. He heard the feet of Torp
scuffle out of silence and a choked cry in the man's throat squalled
out into a senseless whinny.
Thig raised himself up on a quivering elbow and slid the black length
of the blaster in front of him. His eyes sought the doorway and stared
full into the glaring vacant orbs of his commander. Torp leaned there
watching him, his breath gurgling brokenly through his deep-bitten
lips. The clawing marks of nails, fingernails, furrowed his face and
chest. He was a madman!
The deadly attack of Thig; his own violent avenging of Kam's death, and
now the apparent return of the man he had killed come to life had all
served to jolt his rigidly trained brain from its accustomed groove.
The shock had been too much for the established thought-processes of
the Orthan.
So Thig shot him where he stood, mercifully, before that vacant mad
stare set him, too, to gibbering and shrieking. Then he stepped over
the skeleton-thing that had been Torp, using the new strength that
victory had given him to drive him along.
He had saved a world's civilization from extinction! The thought
sobered him; yet, somehow, he was pleased that he had done so. After
all, it had been the Earthwoman and the children he had been thinking
of while he battled Kam, a selfish desire to protect them all.
He went to the desk where Torp had been writing in the ship's log and
read the last few nervously scrawled lines:
_Planet 72-P-3 unfit for colonization. Some pernicious disease that
strikes at the brain centers and causes violent insanity is existent
there. Thig, just returned from a survey of the planet, went mad and
destroyed Kam. In turn I was forced to slay him. But it is not ended.
Already I feel the insidious virus of...._
And there his writing ended abruptly.
Thig nodded. That would do it. He set the automatic pilot for the
planet Ortha. Unless a rogue asteroid or a comet crossed the ship's
path she would return safely to Ortha with that mute warning of danger
on 72-P-3. The body of Torp would help to confirm his final message.
Then Thig crossed the cabin to the auxiliary life boat there, one of
a half-dozen space ships in miniature nested within the great ship's
hull, and cut free from the mother vessel.
He flipped the drive lever, felt the thrumming of the rockets driving
him from the parent ship. The sensation of free flight against his new
body was strangely exhilerating and heady. It was the newest of the
emotions he had experienced on Earth since that day, so many months
before, when he had felt the warmness of Ellen's lips tight against his.
[Illustration: _Thig flipped the drive lever, felt the thrumming of the
rockets driving him from the parent ship._]
He swung about to the port, watched the flaming drive-rockets of the
great exploratory ship hurl it toward far-away Ortha, and there was no
regret in his mind that he was not returning to the planet of his first
existence.
He thought of the dull greys and blacks of his planet, of the
monotonous routine of existence that had once been his--and his heart
thrilled to the memories of the starry nights and perfect exciting days
he had spent on his three month trip over Earth.
He made a brief salute to the existence he had known, turned with a
tiny sigh, and his fingers made brief adjustments in the controls. The
rocket-thrum deepened, and the thin whistle of tenuous air clutching
the ship echoed through the hull-plates.
He thought of many things in those few moments. He watched the
roundness of Earth flatten out, then take on the cup-like illusion
that all planets had for an incoming ship. He reduced the drive of his
rockets to a mere whisper, striving to control the impatience that
crowded his mind.
He shivered suddenly, remembering his utter callousness the first time
he had sent a space ship whipping down toward the hills and valleys
below. And there was a sickness within him when he fully realized that,
despite his acquired memory and traits, he was an alien from outer
space.
He fingered the tiny scars that had completely obliterated the slight
differences in his appearance from an Earthman's, and his fingers
trembled a bit, as he bent and stared through the vision port. He said
a brief prayer in his heart to a God whose presence he now felt very
deeply. There were tears in the depths of his eyes, then, and memories
were hot, bitter pains.
* * * * *
Earth was not far below him. As he let gravity suck him earthward, he
heaved a gasp of relief. He was no longer Thig, a creature of a Horde's
creation, but Lewis Terry, writer of lurid gun-smoking tales of the
West. He must remember that always. He had destroyed the real Terry and
now, for the rest of his life, he must make up to the dead man's family.
The knowledge that Ellen's love was not really meant for him would be
a knife twisting in his heart but for her sake he must endure it. Her
dreams and happiness must never be shattered.
The bulge of Earth was flattening out now and he could see the outlines
of Long Island in the growing twilight.
A new plot was growing in the brain of Lewis Terry, a yarn about a
cowboy suddenly transported to another world. He smiled ironically.
He had seen those other worlds. Perhaps some day he would write about
them....
He was Lewis Terry! He must remember that!
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Quest of Thig, by Basil Wells
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEST OF THIG ***
***** This file should be named 62198.txt or 62198.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/1/9/62198/
Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
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-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive
specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this
eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook
for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports,
performances and research. They 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-tm 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-tm License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
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-tm electronic works in your
possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
Project Gutenberg-tm 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-tm 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-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
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-tm 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-tm mission of promoting
free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
Project Gutenberg-tm 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-tm 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-tm work. The Foundation makes no
representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
country outside 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-tm License must appear
prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm 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'll have to check the laws of the country where you
are located before using this ebook.
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm 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-tm
trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm 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-tm 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-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
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-tm 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-tm work in a format
other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site
(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-tm 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-tm 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-tm electronic works
provided that
* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm 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-tm
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-tm
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-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The
Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm
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-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
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-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm 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-tm electronic works in
accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
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-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm 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-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm 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-tm 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 principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous
locations. Its 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 web site and
official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
[email protected]
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread 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-tm electronic works.
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm 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 Web site which has the main PG search
facility: www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
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.
