The Project Gutenberg eBook of Slay-Ride

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: Slay-Ride

Author: Winston K. Marks

Illustrator: Ed Emshwiller

Release date: December 27, 2020 [eBook #64141]
Most recently updated: October 18, 2024

Language: English

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

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAY-RIDE ***

SLAY-RIDE

By WINSTON K. MARKS

Who ever thought that Frane Lewis—wholesale
triggerman, spaceways pirate—would be the
sweating victim of a simple, webbed, nylon
garment known as spaceman's underwear?

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories November 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Frane Lewis enjoyed another sadistic shiver as he moved up the narrow passageway to the captain's control room. To his flared nostrils the warm, moist air of the small space-freighter was still heavy with the smell of death. A psychiatrist could have told him that this was a neural confusion of olfactory sensation with the perverted emotional excitement of murder. But no physicians ever attended Frane's murders, except at inquests.

Three crewmen, still warm, lay at their posts with bloody splotches staining their tunic pockets. Two more chores aboard and his pay, fabulous pay, was earned.

For Frane simple plans worked best. He rapped on the gray magnesium panel. "Your lunch, sir," he called. Inside, a solenoid thumped. The port slid aside revealing the captain's square back outlined against the white-sprinkled velvet of space. As the executive turned away from the transparent nose dome Frane's weapon spoke its final invitation to eternity. The captain's eyes clamped shut, and in the reduced gravity he buckled to the deck in slow motion.

Then Frane swore as the dimly lighted astro-pit revealed another person. What was the navigator doing up here at this time of watch? The tall, uniformed second officer reacted even as unbelieving horror swept his face.

Shoving off from the bulkhead Frane dodged the officer's lunge with a quick side-step, but the motion smashed the side of his curly head into a grip stanchion. His ears rang, and blood spurted from a forehead gash. In a cold rage he watched his opponent recover and crouch for another spring. "Sucker! you could have died nice and easy. Now we shall see!"

With cruel deliberation he slipped his finger off the trigger and waited for the spaceman's desperate dive. Up whipped the heavy hand weapon in a short, vicious arc that splintered jawbone with an almost crisp, wood-snapping sound.

Swiftly Frane secured the cabin door. Then he went about binding the unconscious navigator with parts of his own uniform. When he was through he stood for a moment trying to orient himself in the hemispherical room. He compared it to a chart sketch provided him on earth before he had stowed away in his special supply crate.

"Piracy!" The word hissed into the silence with a quality of unbelieving. Frane swung and saw that his victim had regained his senses.

"Yeah, piracy. Didn't think it could happen, did you? They told you space piracy was impossible, didn't they?"

"You brutal, bestial, insane—" the navigator broke off as his smashed jaw moved in spite of his gritted teeth.

"Not insane, buddy, just irritated. You caused me some trouble, see? I'm saving you, buddy." His hand came away from his face palm out and smeared with red. "I'm saving you for later."

He moved surely now, the details of location well in mind. A low placed locker when opened spilled out the gleaming metalized space suit which was prop number one in this stage play. A little nervously Frane fumbled with the unfamiliar garment.

The officer watched with dull eyes as the killer prepared to don it. "How—how many—men alive back there?"

"Subtract three. That leaves eighteen, doesn't it? And you can write them off as soon as I get these pajamas on."

"Don't spill the air! For the love of Jupiter, don't spill the air! You have the ship. Why murder us all?"

"Orders. I don't make them, I just carry them out. For money. Big money. That's why I'm here. I'm reliable. Besides, your men might break out and pester me. They're locked in their quarters."

"You mean you're alone?"

"I'm your man, space boy," Frane said with flat boastfulness. He caught up a strange webbed garment of nylon yarn. "What do you call this fish net? It was in the suit locker."

"You wouldn't know about that, you earthbound slug. We call it spaceman's underwear. Didn't your buddies tell you about it?"

Frane shrugged, started to discard it and changed his mind. "Better put it on me, I guess. I suppose it's pretty cold when the air goes out."

Through twisted, motionless lips, the navigator told him, "Very cold. Absolute cold. You won't live if you spill the air." Frane said nothing. The spaceman watched the killer strip off his clothes, slip into the net garment and redress himself. Wool slacks snugged in at the ankles and belted tightly to a felt jacket with a tight, soft collar. Now he proceeded with the space suit.

"With enough air a man can live for weeks in one of these," Frane lectured to dispel a depressed feeling of confinement, as he tugged the bulky space garment up and fastened it around his neck. "And I got plenty of air, see?" He uncoiled the length of silicon-plastic hose and plugged one end into the bubble helmet, the other into the wall valve of the control cabin.

"How do you intend to navigate this craft?" the officer asked with honest curiosity.

After a moment's reflection Frane could see no reason to conceal the procedure. He felt like talking. He had often talked to his victims before. Foolishly, perhaps, but his victims had never lived to repeat the conversations. Nor would this one.

"We'll be boarded in about twenty hours. They told me they couldn't trail too closely or your radar would have alerted you. They'll have their own crew to take over."

"Suppose they don't show up at all?" the officer needled.

"They will. Don't you worry your silly little head over that."

"But if they don't?" the prostrate man insisted. "You know, when you blow the main valves you can't close them again from the inside. You may have plenty of air for that suit, but how will you eat? Breathing is just one problem in a space suit."

"They'll be here inside of twenty hours, I told you."

"And you'll be dead."

"Why?"

"Because they double-crossed you good. Sure, they'll get the fattest cargo this can ever carried. But your share of it will be a shove outside. You'll be just as damned dead as I'll be."

"How did they cross me up?"

A ghost of a smile distorted the swollen face that had once been lean and handsome. "Find out," he said simply.

In spite of himself Frane checked back on his procedure. Purposely or otherwise, could they have left out some essential step in order to reduce the number of splits on the cargo? He ticked off the steps of his project and could find no reasonable omission. Carefully he fitted on the bubble, opened the oxygen valve and made the meter read what they had told him.

The hiss told him he was getting gas, but surprisingly, there was no perceptible motion of air in the helmet. Clever inlet baffles prevented the chilly drafts that had plagued pioneer spacemen with head colds and sneezes.

He was sweating already, but, he reflected, it wouldn't do any harm to store up a little body heat against the hours of this absolute zero they talked about.

He checked the chronometer which he'd strapped to the wrist of his suit. "Right on time," he shouted in order to be heard through the plastic bubble. His bulky hand paused clumsily on the master air outlet valve switch. He raised his other arm in a derisive farewell gesture.

"Quick-frozen space punks!" he shouted. "Get them cheap from Frane Lewis, wholesale triggerman." He laughed hoarsely as he jabbed the switch.

The sound of air rushing from vents never intended to be opened in space, screeched a shrill requiem even through the thick curved helmet. As the sound grew fainter his suit bulged out and threw him off balance. He toppled over and landed face down on the dying navigator. For one grisly second the swollen, contorted face with bulging eyes glared at him, then he rolled away in a convulsed panic that ripped his air hose from its connection.

The hiss stopped, and almost instantly his rapid respiration fouled the air of his tiny headspace. Frantic, mitted hands fought the slender hose back over the nipple, struggled with the safety clamp, and once again the sweet air dribbled into his lungs.

He realized now there must have been an automatic valve in the air inlet, which had held his pressure until the connection was remade, with a trace of new respect for the breed of spacemen, he wondered about the poor fools who had suffered and died to provide the improvements of this self-contained bit of earth environment. He was now the only living speck of life on the desolated craft he had betrayed to the frigid airlessness of space.

Frigid? The exertion had sweat running down his face so freely that his snug neckband was soaked already. His hand came up and rapped the bubble in an unconscious, futile motion intended to rub out the salty sweat from his stinging eyes and tortured head wound.

Strange. The cold was not penetrating at all. Even at the several points where his body and limbs made contact with the distended space suit, no sensation of coolness struck through. His feet were moist and hot on the heavy cork soles.

He stared briefly at the two bodies near his feet. They were beyond explaining anything. The smell of death came back to his nostrils. Right through his helmet? There was no smell out there. The smell was in here. With him. Power of suggestion? The navigator had said he would die. Sure. A safe statement. Nobody lived forever. But he'd live long enough to enjoy his cut of this little deal.

His cut. The officer had said it would be a shove out into space. The death smell. His own death, perhaps. He laughed softly, and the sound of his voice thudded back to his ears like the intimate murmurings of a stethoscope. It was intimate in here. Every little whisper of breath he took rustled loudly.

Deliberately he cleared his throat and coughed. The sound was almost metallic. It hurt his ears. Mingled with the tepid moisture of his own breath was the faint odor of the powerful dessicant that ringed the base of the helmet.

His eyes dropped to the row of tiny dials set just within eye-range under his chin. Suit pressure, O. K. Oxygen, O. K. Humidity—the needle lay right on the red line. Well, when he stopped sweating from his scare that should drop off. Body temperature, one hundred one.

One-oh-one? Ninety-eight plus, he remembered from upper school hygiene, was normal. Over a hundred was not so good.

Sit down, Frane. Relax. Get your breathing slowed down. Cool off.

He took the captain's comfortable chair before the low control panel. He stared out into the incredible blackness of space, out where not the tiniest diffusion from the starlight eased the utter darkness between constellations.

Somewhere in the ship's electric generation system a moving part, brittle with the cold and contracted within its bearing, vibrated briefly and shattered. The control-room twilight flared and died out into a shadowless night.

Frane had the sensation of being projected out among the stars. Loneliness pushed in on him. He realized cynically that even the two corpses had been better than this isolation.

After a moment his pupils expanded so widely that the stars seemed to grow larger, rushing in to meet the plunging space ship. The luminous needles and dial faces of his helmet instruments became glaring little lanterns.

Everything normal except humidity, slightly over the red line, and temperature. Temperature: 102.5 F., he read. He wished fervently that he hadn't put on that last garment. Spaceman's underwear, it was called. Or maybe it would have been better to—

An uneasy thought crept into the back of his head, and he strained his smarting eyes down at the temperature gauge. In only a minute or two it had advanced one tenth degree to 102.6 F.

Now his breath rasped more rapidly as he gasped more oxygen. Pressure was down slightly. He moved to the valve and adjusted it. On an impulse he opened it wide for a second. The pressure needle pegged, his ears popped, but no coolness came from the baffled intake. He normalized the pressure again.

The hose must be double-walled, he thought. The air should at least have had the coolness of its own expansion. He wiggled inside his sweat-sopping clothes. Why didn't the perspiration dry off and cool him? The answer came with uncomfortable clarity. Where could the body moisture go? Where, for that matter, could the body heat go?

Temperature: 102.9 F.

Frane Lewis was no coward, but his hands began plucking nervously at the space suit. The previously tough, folds of shiny, impermeable fabric were now distended into a rock-like rigidity.

He stood up suddenly, and his feet squished in his sandals. The sweat was a puddle up over his toes. He was getting weak and thirsty. Very thirsty. He felt he must have no more water in him. He stood in a trancelike state for minutes staring blindly into the heavens. His mind wouldn't work right. He hurt. He itched. He craved water, gallons of it.

Then he stopped sweating. He had been deliberately keeping his eyes off the temperature dial, forcing his mind away from a problem he didn't understand, when he felt his face go dry. The caked streaks of salt made his skin feel stiff and itchy.

Temperature: 104.3 F.

Frane now knew he was sick. At that rate of increase he couldn't last much longer. His head was buzzing, and the fantasies of fever were flashing lights across his bleared vision. He strove to fight off the hallucinations. He focussed his eyes on the dim-faced chronometer and realized with a start that he had endured over three hours of his vigil. Perhaps he could last out. Whatever the fever was, it must ease off sometime.

He staggered to the oxygen control, eased it open to full again and watched the temperature needle for minutes. He became dazed. Then his eyes came alive again, and he stared. Temperature: 104.5 F.

His hands drifted listlessly to the control again. This time he throttled it down, down, below normal pressure. Slowly, slower than the minute hand of a watch, the needle climbed on. Why? Why?

His swollen tongue licked at dry lips. He couldn't swallow any more. Around his neck a salty puddle burned a ring of itching hell fire.

He choked down more on the air valve. It didn't make sense to him, but if more oxygen raised his temperature faster, then less should do the opposite. At 104.5 F a man doesn't always think straight.

At first his heart pounded loudly in protest. His breathing became quick and shallow. With staring, grateful eyes he watched the needle settle a tenth of a degree and stay there. The mental relief was almost overwhelming. Had there been moisture left in his tear ducts Frane would have cried. But now, with the strained concentration gone he became fuzzy. He slipped in and out of consciousness, and dead faces began drifting past his eyes.

This wouldn't do. He had one more job left. He looked at his chronometer. In another eight minutes he must throw the drive lever and kill all acceleration. The pirate ship's orbital prediction was based on this timed interruption of the freighter's drive. So much as two minutes off, he had been impressed, would make their search hours longer, since they were approaching from the rear at an angle.

He sagged into the pilot's chair again, but sitting down was no good. Instantly the ghost faces began their parade, and the death smell, mingled with the saturated dessicant's rank stink threatened to strangle him. The belly full of rations he had force-fed himself to sustain him the twenty hours of waiting pressed heavily against his heaving diaphragm.

He gained his feet, stood with his hand on the fuel lever control and stared fixedly at his chronometer. Two minutes.

The navigator's swollen face, eyes bulging, stared into his helmet.

"Get out of my way. Got to see my watch. Get—"

He brushed at the phantom as if it were a cloud of gnats. He was confident now. The temperature gauge showed his body heat to be constant at 104.4 F. Thirty seconds now and he could give himself over to his fever dreams. Twenty seconds.

The broken jawed image persisted mistily. But now the face was repaired. It was the young tense face before he had crushed it with his blaster. It had that hard, determined look on it.

The fire in his body swept up into his brain. The bodyless image spoke softly, "You're going to die. You are going to move the fuel control the wrong way. You can't remember which way they said to move it. It isn't marked. You can't remember."

"Yes, I can!" The chronometer said twelve seconds.

"You made one mistake. You put on your clothes over the spaceman's underwear. Your body heat can't escape. Your brain is burning up. You can't remember about the lever. You will move it the wrong way."

"So what? Then I'll move it the other way," Frane screamed.

The tiny clock zeroed. Frane pressed the lever away from him. That was the way to stop any earth vehicle—pressure forward on the air brake pedal. He shoved hard.

The rockets roared out full blast far behind him. The building acceleration caught him and flung him stumbling back against the bulkhead. Then the firing took on complete departure blast rate.

Pinned like a butterfly specimen, eight G's smashed Frane Lewis' space suit against the metal wall. Lewis, being free inside the suit, was pressed hard against the interior of its back side.

The cold he had been seeking struck through the wet, felt lining and his exterior clothes. The thickly corded spaceman's underwear delayed the frost momentarily, but then the sweat froze. The death smell seized his throat. Dimly he knew what was happening, but he felt only heat. The sear of an atomic furnace burning his shoulders, buttocks, leg calves, through into his spine.

The heat—the terrible sear of space cold.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLAY-RIDE ***

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.