Non-Stop by Brian Aldiss Page B

ship.’
    To his annoyance, he had to interrupt his speech at once to explain what a plan was, the concept being entirely new to them. This was Complain’s turn to be superior to Wantage, for while he quickly grasped the idea, the latter could not be made to comprehend the two-dimensional representation of a three-dimensional object as large as the ship; analogies with Meller’s sub-life-size paintings did not help him, and eventually they had to leave the matter as assumed, just as Complain now had to ‘assume’ they were in a ship without anything he could regard as rational evidence.
    ‘Nobody has ever had a plan of the complete ship before,’ Marapper told them. ‘It was fortunate it fell into my hands. Ozbert Bergass knew as much about the layout as anyone, but he was only really familiar with the Sternstairs region and a part of Deadways.’
    The plan showed the ship to be shaped like an egg, elongated so that the middle was cylindrical, both ends coming to a blunted point. The whole was composed of eighty-four decks, which showed a circular cross-section when the ship was opened through its width, each being proportioned like a coin. Most of the decks (all but a few at each end) consisted of three concentric levels, upper, middle and lower; these had corridors in them, connected by lifts and companion ways; round these corridors were ranged the apartments. Sometimes the apartments were just a nest of offices, sometimes they were so big they filled a whole level. All decks were connected together by one large corridor running right through the longitudinal axis of the ship: the Main Corridor. But there were also subsidiary connections between the circular corridors of one deck and those of the decks on either side.
    One end of the ship was clearly labelled ‘Stern’. At the other end was a small blister labelled ‘Control’; Marapper planted his finger on it.
    ‘This is where we shall find the captain,’ he said. ‘Whoever is here has power over the ship. We are going there.’
    ‘This plan makes it as easy as signing off a log,’ Roffery declared, rubbing his hands. ‘All we’ve got to do is strike along the Main Corridor. Perhaps we weren’t such fools to join you after all.’
    ‘It won’t be as easy as that,’ Complain said. ‘You’ve spent all your wakes comfortably in Quarters, you don’t know what conditions are like. Main Corridor is fairly well known to hunters, but it does not go anywhere, as a proper corridor should.’
    ‘Despite your naïve way of putting things, you are correct, Roy,’ the priest agreed. ‘But I have found in this looker the reason why it does not go anywhere. All along the Main Corridor, between each deck, were emergency doors. Each circle of deck was built to be more or less self-sufficient, so that in time of crisis it could be cut off on its own and its inhabitants still survive.’
    He flicked through series of complex diagrams.
    ‘Even I cannot pretend to understand all this, but it is clear that there was an emergency, a fire or something, and the doors of the Main Corridor have remained closed ever since.’
    ‘That’s why – ponics apart – it’s so difficult to get anywhere,’ Fermour added. ‘All you can do is go round in circles. What we have to do is find the subsidiary connections which are still open, and advance through them. It means constant detouring instead of just moving straightforwardly.’
    ‘I’ll give you the instructions, thanks,’ said the priest, shortly. ‘Since you all seem to be so clever, we’ll be on our way without further ado. Get that pack on your back, Fermour, and get moving!’
    They shuffled obediently to their feet. Outside the compartment, Deadways waited; it was not inviting.
    ‘We’ll have to get through Forwards area to reach control,’ Complain said.
    ‘Frightened?’ Wantage sneered.
    ‘Yes, Slotface, I am.’
    Wantage turned away, resentful but too preoccupied to quarrel, even over the use of his