The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Outer Quiet, by Herbert D. Kastle
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: The Outer Quiet
Author: Herbert D. Kastle
Release Date: April 12, 2019 [EBook #59259]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTER QUIET ***
Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE OUTER QUIET
BY HERBERT D. KASTLE
_Fear is often Man's greatest enemy. But
when there is nothing left to lose, there is
everything to gain.... And with everything
to gain, where is the enemy?_
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, May 1955.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He lay on the cot, listening to the breathing of the six men who shared
apartment 2-B with him, and the panic fluttered deep in his stomach,
threatening to break upward and out in a wild scream. He fought it by
telling himself it was foolish for a man who had lived through the
destruction of New York and eight months imprisonment to feel this way.
He peered toward the window and tried to see the morning sun; not as
a pale, shimmery fog but as the bright Spring yellow he knew it was.
But the fog remained, no matter how many times he rubbed his eyes
with saliva-wet fingers. It was as if he were seeing everything under
water--a world of shimmery, hazy objects.
The panic rose again. The Conquerors' beam had done its work well, and
his chances of finding Adele before death found him, were now terribly
small. The first punishment had brought only a slight blur, this one
had almost blinded him, and it was only a matter of time before he
committed the third offense. It made no difference that Conqueror
Punitive assured all trainees that the degree of blindness decreased
as the years went by. He knew that his third offense would come sooner
than any improvement in his ability to see. And the third offense was
punishable by death.
Before another rush of fear could churn his brain, the morning
whistle sounded. Shrill, commanding, it began each day of aimless
wandering--the silent stroll over pavement connecting the five
buildings of what had once been Brooklyn's prize housing development; a
constant walk which destroyed those Americans unable to show complete
obedience and turned the others into slaves.
Again the whistle shrieked, and the room filled with coughs, groans and
sighs, for it was forbidden to talk. Only when one of the many rules
had been broken and a card bearing the trainee's number was found in
the box outside the door did some American get a chance to speak. He
would rush instantly to the small administration building near the
wall's only exit and report to the squat, gray-uniformed Conqueror
known as Punitive--the only Conqueror the trainees had ever seen. After
an explanation of the offense in too-precise English, the trainee was
told to sit on the stool facing the light tube. "I obey," he would
croak. In silence broken only by the hum of electric generators in
the basement, the beam of piercing white light would sear his eyes.
Afterwards, the assurance about the disappearing effects of the beam;
then back to the streets.
With _only_ Punitive representing them, the Conquerors weeded out
Americans who would not or could not obey. The vaguest suggestion of
communication between trainees was picked up by the detector bulbs--the
see-and-hear-all devices which hung much as oversized light bulbs from
the ceiling of every room, and stood like dead street lamps every fifty
feet or so along the pavements.
George lay a second longer, then twisted his tall, slim body erect and
sprang to his feet. As he slipped into the thick stockings, high-topped
shoes, and one-piece cover-alls with serial number stitched in large
red numerals across chest and back, he began sounding deep in his
throat. This was so slight a touch of the vocal cords that no detector
bulb or other trainee could hear it. But it was something more than
thinking; it was listening to a voice repeating all the things that
had mattered before the Conquerors' surprise attack atomized New York
City. It was his fight against non-entity.
"George Lowery," he said, "thirty-two, top salesman at Brady's Men's
Shop, resident of Babylon, Long Island, owner of 12 North Rector Drive,
husband of Adele Lowery, and today you may see her." But the last
phrase stuck in his throat and he had to repeat it several times. Even
so, he couldn't convince himself that the most important part of his
ritual was true--that perhaps he would see his wife as she walked the
streets.
Two days ago he had turned the breakfast table to stone by asking his
neighbor to pass the water. It was nothing more than a mistake--a
stupid thinking aloud. But yesterday the card had been in the door-box.
He had visited apartment 1-A in the Administration Building and, for
the second time, the thin beam of light had seared his eyes. Now he was
no longer sure he would be able to recognize his own wife.
"George Lowery," he sounded, fighting off the panic. "George Lowery,"
and he turned and moved through the now-empty rooms.
He was last in line outside the bathroom and waited dully for his turn.
The men in front of him were nothing but tall, short or in-between
nondescripts. The old group, of which he was the last, had been
different. They had looked at each other with meaning, with hope. After
six months passed, and realization came that no opposition to the
Conquerors was in sight, they went out in one mad day of talk. He had
watched silently, refusing to respond to the suicidal good morning's,
pardon me's, and salty discussions of Conqueror Punitive's parentage.
Not that life in the project meant anything to him. It was just that
he had to see Adele again--to assure himself that she still remembered
their life together. If her love had been stamped out, then the
Conquerors were right in their men-live-by-bread-alone theory, and he
was only one of a few remaining misfits--a breed as expendable in the
battle for survival as the great, pre-historic lizards had been.
He hadn't been in the bathroom more than five minutes when the third
whistle sounded. With his beard still wet he rushed out of the
apartment, pausing only to check the empty door-box, then ran down two
flights of stairs to the street. It was windy for a morning in June
and his face felt cold where the damp hair covered it. The Conquerors
allowed nothing that could be used as a weapon to fall into American
hands, but even after eight months he was still not used to his light
brown beard and long shaggy hair.
Hurrying through the street, following the one-way arrows which kept
the trainees moving in the same direction, around and around the
project, he felt the panic well up again. He made a wide detour of the
excavation area which lay in the center of a rough square formed by the
four apartment houses and the Administration Building. This forbidden
area had been the cause of his first visit to Conqueror Punitive.
Some two months ago, right after the last shipment of fresh trainees
arrived, he had seen a group of women obviously new to the project,
rigid in their terror of this silent hell, walking right in the
direction of the excavation. Without thinking, he had shouted a warning
which stopped them from committing an offense.
By the time he reached the basement of building two, he was gasping for
breath. If the last whistle sounded before he was seated at one of the
long wooden tables, it would mean the third offense. There wasn't any
light-beam treatment for that one; only an electrode clamped to the
head and the oblivion of thousands of volts of electricity.
He went down the flight of steps into the basement which was dining
room for all the male prisoners, and grasped a spoon, cup and plate
from the tinware table just inside the door. The benches nearest the
door were filled, but he didn't have time to go any further. Just as he
plumped between two trainees, the whistle sounded.
He sat still a moment catching his breath, feeling the thin bodies
adjust themselves away from him. Scooping some cereal from one of the
center pots, he began to eat. The first mouthful stuck in his throat
and he hastily filled his cup. But when he had gulped down the sugared
water, a wave of nausea made him gag. He sat gripping the edge of the
table, his head spinning. And thoughts crept into his mind--thoughts
and questions he wanted to keep out.
Why were the trainees being starved? If the Conquerors wanted to kill
them, it would be simple enough to use the quicker and less expensive
method of firing squads. The training area was proof that they wanted
workers for their new world. And despite the hunger which made
hollow-eyed skeletons of them all, the men and women walked straighter
and with definite confidence. Their lips were sealed shut, their eyes
flickered observantly, their heads were always rigidly forward. Except
for a few lingering misfits like himself, the group conformed as well
as humans ever could. Why then the delay in releasing them as had been
promised?
He screwed his eyes around and tried to see the other tables. Those
even a short distance from the door were almost empty, and further
into the hall they seemed deserted. He had no way of knowing the total
number of men, but he was sure there weren't more than a hundred--out
of an original five hundred. If the same proportion held true for the
women, there were less than two hundred Americans left in the project!
He twisted his eyes to the person on his left. The face was that of a
boy in his late teens--the beard spotty and thin. The head barely moved
as he chewed, he held himself rigid, his hand moved up to his mouth in
a straight line and down the same way--he ate like a machine.
George swung his eyes to the right. Another young machine turned out
by the Conquerors. But was it only to be starved to death that these
men, most of them so young, had obeyed? It made no sense and this, more
than the conformity to slavery, terrified him.
But his terror lasted only a moment. What had he to do with whether
they lived or died? He was finished; all that mattered was seeing Adele.
He picked up his spoon and ate until the whistle shrieked its order
for the walking to begin. Then he rose with utensils in hand and was
carried to the door in the silent rush. As he dropped his tinware into
the barrel of chlorinated water, he thought with bitter amusement that
there was nothing for the Conquerors to do anymore--hardly a full day's
work for three or four men in operating the project now.
When he walked into the street, the sun was warmer. It was a beautiful
day; almost summer, he thought, and he breathed deeply. But the smell
of fresh growth was not in the air--only the dusty, burnt odor of the
ruined city beyond the walls. The sun grew brighter by the minute and
he found it increasingly more difficult to see. It was as if the rays
shattered into blinding blobs as they struck his eyes. Somehow, he knew
he was using his ears more than ever before.
Poor compensation, he thought. There was nothing to hear--no way of
finding her by listening. And besides the absence of speech, there was
the absence of _any_ sound.
He forced himself to place one leg after another, and all the horror in
the world crept into his brain. He wanted to turn around and speak to
those in back of him--to stop the one-way tide of stroll and ask some
questions. Just when had the last plane blurred by with jets roaring?
And when had the Conquerors marched outside the wall, boots thudding,
rifles clanking on canteen pack and buckle? When was the last atomic
blast--a distant rumble causing the ground to tremble beneath the
pavement?
Months; two or even three, it seemed to him. His long legs faltered and
he almost stumbled. Then he remembered his one purpose, and pushed the
thoughts from his mind.
By alternately hurrying and slowing his steps, he was able to pull
alongside some trainees and let others catch up with him. With sidelong
glances he tried to find Adele. He had to see her--to convince himself
that she had not forgotten the happy years together.
It had been between buildings three and four--the women's living
quarters--that he had seen her that first and only time six months ago.
He was walking quickly and pulled up beside her. One sidelong glance
was exchanged and her face had filled with terror. Then she almost ran
from him. He followed, but the weird chase ended after she actually
turned to look back.
Afraid she might commit further offenses in her efforts to avoid him,
he had slowed his pace to a crawl and soon lost sight of her after
turning a few comers. Now his time was running out and he had to see
her. She should be wiser in the ways of the camp; they could exchange a
glance and separate. But that glance would tell him whether or not she
too had become a machine.
_If she's alive_, a corner of his brain whispered. But he refused to
think of her as being dead.
The sun was getting hot and the faces he looked at were
indistinguishable in their blurry outlines. Nausea and dizziness
returned and he could no longer concentrate on his search.
_It's too late_, he thought. The second treatment had finished his
chances.
He tried thinking of other things, to remember his feelings from the
time of the blast to the day he had passed through the new brick wall
into the project. But all he got was a blur of fear. Fear then, fear
now, and fear until the day they would kill him.
"Sick of fear!" a voice rusty from disuse rasped out. "Sick of the
whole mess!"
It was with a sense of complete surprise that he realized his mouth was
open and it was his own voice shouting.
"It's over," he rasped and turned around to face a startled, thin-faced
woman whose blue eyes peered at him--but not with terror. He looked at
her, his mouth sagging open.
"Over for both of us," she whispered, and moved toward him with arms
outstretched and trembling.
He tried to turn and run, to save her from further violations, but she
grasped his hand.
"George." And she was in his arms. "My third offense--when I stopped
walking. There's nothing to lose now."
The shuffling of feet continued about them as they embraced, and she
talked hurriedly as if afraid that the few hours before the evening
meal would not be enough for all she had to say.
"I've walked behind you all these months. I was sure you would say
something if you saw me and I didn't want you to be punished. Each
morning I waited until the last moment before leaving the women's
dining room--until you came by looking for me. Then I'd walk behind
you, sometimes within touching distance. Once I had to wait too long,
and then I went to Punitive for the second time. But it was all for
nothing. I hoped you would go free, but it was all for nothing."
He kissed her then and she had to stop. When he took his lips from
hers, they both turned to the nearest detector bulb. They were being
watched, but what difference did a thousand violations make now?
She was talking again, and actually smiling. "You look distinguished in
a beard!"
He laughed, and saw the nearby trainees pick up the forgotten sound. He
took her lips back to his own and heard the shuffling feet slow down
all around them. And the fear was gone.
"Let's go to the excavation," he said. "We'll sit down at the bottom in
privacy and talk and laugh. We're free, Adele, and the rest doesn't
matter now."
He put his arm around her waist and they strolled against the pattern,
the rigid walkers parting before them. When they reached the huge pit
he kicked at the OFF LIMITS sign and was surprised at how easily it
fell. Then he took her hand and moved down the steep, sandy slope.
It wasn't until Adele moaned and closed her eyes tightly that he saw
that the bottom of the pit was covered with stones--and clean white
bones. The blood pounded in his temples as he stared at the piled
skeletons and chemical stained earth. And the few hours of peace was no
longer enough.
Adele helped him pick up stones, until his hands and her cradled arms
could hold no more. Bulbs, at least, could be broken.
Up they climbed, and when they reached the pavement there were many
trainees shuffling slowly past the spot where the sign lay.
He threw the first stone at a detector bulb while still some distance
from it, and his ruined eyes failed him. But the next time he stood
directly beneath it and the shattering of glass seemed as loud as the
atomic blast had been. Down the street they went, smashing bulb after
bulb, retrieving their missiles so as to have enough to last. And all
the trainees moved slowly behind them, on up to the last bulb in front
of the Administration Building.
The new sound was a sharp crack, and someone screamed in a rusty voice.
He turned to see one of the crowd twitching on the pavement, then
followed the faces turned up to Conqueror Punitive's window. There was
a shadow there--a shadow with a rifle.
"The last bulb," Adele said. "Smash it."
He drew back his arm and the crack of rifle fire reached him a second
after the hot streak creased his shoulder. But he wasn't hurt, and
threw the stone.
As the glass shattered there was an eruption of strange language from
the building--a terrified shouting. The trainees stopped walking, then
broke into frenzied movement and hoarse shouts. They pushed George and
Adele aside in pursuit of the gray-uniformed figure running toward the
gate. The third shot was inside the building, and then the crowd picked
up the fleeing Conqueror. His screams died quickly.
Into the building the Americans poured--shaggy skeletons shrieking
hatred. By the time George and Adele followed, men and women stood
silently in the rooms and halls. Punitive looked ridiculously small
crouched in a corner, his head back, the rifle between his knees with
the barrel in his shattered mouth. The total number of gray-uniformed
bodies was six, all but Punitive killed by the Americans.
But the trainees began to file from the building and run back toward
their rooms, for the body in the large room filled with complex
electrical equipment was lying in front of a high-powered sending
set--a radio whose tubes still glowed red.
George looked at the radio, then at Adele. "They sent for help," he
whispered. "Soon, every American here will be dead. And it's because of
us."
She didn't answer, and he expected no answer. The room grew dark as
they stood looking at the humming set. Then he fumbled over the dials,
switched the current off, and led her out into the street.
There was no whistle for the evening meal. The streets were empty, and
the silence hemmed them in like a solid wall. They walked toward the
men's feeding hall.
Passing through the hall, they entered the door leading to the kitchen.
There were huge electric stoves and further on, wheat and sugar sacks
piled ceiling high. In a large bin they found various canned goods--the
Conquerors' personal food supply. The stoves worked, and Adele found
an opener and pots in the glare of the unshaded light bulbs. They ate
quickly; soup, meat, several cans of condensed milk. Then they left the
basement and walked into the balmy evening air.
On the grassy spot in front of the Administration Building they loved
each other desperately. Afterwards, they spoke of God, of what they
believed would come after death, and were comforted. But they did not
talk of what would happen to the others--that was too painful for words.
Before he fell asleep, with Adele breathing regularly beside him, he
once again strained his ears to hear something--anything--from outside
the wall. Except for the ever-present hum of the oil-fed electric
generators in the Administration Building, there was nothing. Not the
bark of a dog or the scream of a cat or the clash of inanimate objects.
Even the wind was dead. But he was too exhausted for fear, and slipped
quickly into sleep. Once during the night, he awoke and raised his
head to listen. When he lay back, there was a thought in his mind both
terrible and full of hope.
Adele awakened him in the morning. From the sun he could tell that it
was past the time for the first meal. They went to the feeding hall and
ate; then returned to the grassy spot. This time they found little to
speak of and sat silently, watching the gate. They watched until the
sun dipped low and shadows engulfed the silent buildings. Then they saw
the first trainees slipping toward the feeding hall; the women moving
toward the men's section in the need for comfort and protection.
When George and Adele arrived in the kitchen, all the Americans were
there. The women cooked the meal and whispered among themselves. The
men sat talking, following the women with their eyes, trying to forget
despair and certain death.
They finished eating and sat quietly at the tables, husbands reunited
with wives, boys and girls whispering to each other, all unwilling to
return to the rooms, George spoke his thoughts.
It was hard to speak aloud; he had kept his thoughts to himself for
so very long, but he managed to speak quietly and calmly. He reminded
them of the tactics the aliens had used to ensure obedience, how they
had held out the promise of freedom as a reward for conformity. How,
backed by the fear and terror they were able to inspire with their
drastic punishments, they were able to enslave all the Americans and
keep them toeing the mark. How they had probably felt secure enough in
their conquest of the minds and bodies of their captives to leave the
Earth in the hands of a few Punitives and a host of electronic gadgets.
He told them, too, that the fact that no help had arrived despite the
radio messages held the promise that the conquerors had no interest
in Earth any longer; he assumed that they were busy elsewhere, or had
merely conquered for the sheer joy of it, or that they lost
interest ... any reason would suffice. The important thing was that
they they were free again. Free to live and laugh, to love and to
hope ... and to prepare a defense should the need arise.
When he finished, even Adele looked at him with disbelief. But they
all followed him to the Administration Building and one of the young
men seated himself at the radio. Filling the room and overflowing into
the hall, they waited. The youth knew his radios and manipulated the
dials skillfully, but there was nothing except the crackle of static.
With dread and hope mingled together, George listened to the empty
airwaves--to the messages sent out on the sending set, and again to the
barren, static response. Then he turned to Adele and smiled weakly.
"We've more than Noah had," he said, and held her trembling hand.
It was not until two days passed and the fuel for the generators had
been exhausted that the first search party ventured into the city. The
report was one word ringing hollowly in the feeding hall. "Nothing."
Later expeditions utilized automobiles from the city's streets and
traveled far out to other states. They returned with several haggard
Americans and reports of some few surviving Conquerors. They also told
of farms heavy with crops and of livestock wandering wild. But there
were no large human groups; no signs of organized humanity anywhere in
the world.
Two months after George and Adele Lowery's revolt, the trainees left
the housing area for the fields where they could raise food and plan
their civilization. George rode beside his wife in the lead car. There
was no joy or laughter in them, nor would there be for many years. But
the wrecked city fell behind, the green and brown of the fields took
its place, and somewhere in the motorcade a voice began singing.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Outer Quiet, by Herbert D. Kastle
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTER QUIET ***
***** This file should be named 59259.txt or 59259.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.gutenberg.org/5/9/2/5/59259/
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.
