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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/23028-h.zip b/23028-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a77258 --- /dev/null +++ b/23028-h.zip diff --git a/23028-h/23028-h.htm b/23028-h/23028-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2cbc365 --- /dev/null +++ b/23028-h/23028-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3060 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Greylorn, by Keith Laumer. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + a {text-decoration:none; color:blue;} + a:visited {color:gray;} + body {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + h2+p {text-indent:0;} + h3 {margin:0 auto 0 auto;} + hr {width:65%; margin:2em auto 2em auto; clear:both; text-align:center;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + hr.minor {width: 45%; margin:1em auto 1em auto; clear:both;} + ins.corr {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + p {margin-top:.75em; text-align:justify; margin-bottom:.75em; text-indent:1.5em;} + p.noin {text-indent:0;} + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + ul.off {list-style-type:none;} + .b {font-weight:bold;} + .bbox {border:solid 1px; padding:1em; margin:2em 10% 2em 10%;} + .blurb {padding:1em 1em 1em 1em; margin:auto 20% auto 20%; border:6px ridge gray; font-family:sans-serif;} + .c {text-align:center;} + .i {font-style:italic;} + .pagenum {position:absolute; left:95%; font-style:normal; font-size:smaller; text-align:right; text-indent:0;} + .ralign {position:absolute; right:20%; text-align:right;} + .sf75 {font-size:75%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Greylorn, by John Keith Laumer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + +Title: Greylorn + +Author: John Keith Laumer + +Release Date: October 13, 2007 [EBook #23028] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYLORN *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></p> + +<h1>GREYLORN<br /> + +<span class='sf75'>By KEITH LAUMER</span></h1> + +<div class='blurb'><p>Keith Laumer is a writer new to science fiction. In this story he +displays the finesse, artistry and imagination of an old pro. Here is +one of the tightest, tautest stories of interplanetary adventure in a +long while:</p></div> + +<hr /> +<h2>Table of Contents</h2> + +<ul class='off'> +<li><a href="#PROLOGUE">PROLOGUE</a> <span class='ralign'><a href="#Page_29">29</a></span></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_1">CHAPTER 1</a> <span class='ralign'><a href="#Page_33">33</a></span></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_2">CHAPTER 2</a> <span class='ralign'><a href="#Page_57">57</a></span></li> +<li><a href="#EPILOGUE">EPILOGUE</a> <span class='ralign'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></span></li> +</ul> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PROLOGUE" id="PROLOGUE"></a>PROLOGUE</h2> + +<p>The murmur of conversation around the conference table died as the World +Secretary entered the room and took his place at the head of the table.</p> + +<p>“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said. “I’ll not +detain you with formalities today. The representative of the Navy +Department is waiting outside to present the case for his proposal. You +all know something of the scheme; it has been heard and passed as +feasible by the Advisory Group. It will now be our responsibility to +make the decision. I ask that each of you in forming a conclusion +remember that our present situation can only be described as desperate, +and that desperate measures may be in order.”</p> + +<p>The Secretary turned and nodded to a braided admiral seated near the +door who left the room and returned a moment later with a young +gray-haired Naval Officer.</p> + +<p>“Members of the Council,” said the admiral, “this is +Lieutenant Commander Greylorn.” All eyes followed the officer as +he walked the length of the room to take the empty seat at the end of +the table.</p> + +<p>“Please proceed, Commander,” said the Secretary.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Mr. Secretary.” The Commander’s voice was +unhurried and low, yet it carried clearly and held authority. He began +without preliminary.</p> + +<p>“When the World Government dispatched the Scouting Forces +forty-three years ago, an effort was made to contact each of the +twenty-five worlds to which this government had sent Colonization +parties during the Colonial<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +Era of the middle Twentieth Centuries. With the return of the last of +the scouts early this year, we were forced to realize that no assistance +would be forthcoming from that source.”</p> + +<p>The Commander turned his eyes to the world map covering the wall. With +the exception of North America and a narrow strip of coastal waters, the +entire map was tinted an unhealthy pink.</p> + +<p>“The latest figures compiled by the Department of the Navy +indicate that we are losing area at the rate of one square mile every +twenty-one hours. The organism’s faculty for developing resistance +to our chemical and biological measures appears to be evolving rapidly. +Analyses of atmospheric samples indicate the level of noxious content +rising at a steady rate. In other words, in spite of our best efforts, +we are not holding our own against the Red Tide.”</p> + +<p>A mutter ran around the table, as Members shifted uncomfortably in their +seats.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>“A great deal of thought has been applied to the problem of +increasing our offensive ability. This in the end is still a question of +manpower and raw resources. We do not have enough. Our small +improvements in effectiveness have been progressively offset by +increasing casualties and loss of territory. In the end, alone, we must +lose.”</p> + +<p>The Commander paused, as the murmur rose and died again. “There is +however, one possibility still unexplored,” he said. “And +recent work done at the Polar Research Station places the possibility +well within the scope of feasibility. At the time the attempt was made +to establish contact with the colonies, one was omitted. It alone now +remains to be sought out. I refer to the Omega Colony.”</p> + +<p>A portly Member leaned forward and burst out, “The location of the +colony is unknown!”</p> + +<p>The Secretary intervened. “Please permit the Commander to complete +his remarks. There will be ample opportunity for discussion when he has +finished.”</p> + +<p>“This contact was not attempted for two reasons,” the +Commander continued. “First, the precise location was not known; +second, the distance was at least twice that of the earlier colonies. At +the time, there was a feeling of optimism which seemed to make the +attempt superfluous. Now the situation has changed. The possibility of +contacting Omega Colony now assumes paramount importance.</p> + +<p>“The development of which I spoke is a new application of drive +principle which has given to us a greatly improved effective velocity +for space propulsion. Forty years ago, the minimum elapsed time of +return travel to the presumed sector within which the Omega World should +lie was about a century. Today we have the techniques to construct a +small scouting vessel capable of making the transit in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +just over five years. We cannot hold out here for a century, perhaps; +but we can manage a decade.</p> + +<p>“As for location, we know the initial target point toward which +Omega was launched. The plan was of course that a precise target should +be selected by the crew after approaching the star group closely enough +to permit telescopic planetary resolution and study. There is no reason +why the crew of a scout could not make the same study and examination of +possible targets, and with luck find the colony.</p> + +<p>“Omega was the last colonial venture undertaken by our people, two +centuries after the others. It was the best equipped and largest +expedition of them all. It was not limited to one destination, little +known, but had a presumably large selection of potentials from which to +choose; and her planetary study facilities were extremely advanced. I +have full confidence that Omega made a successful planetfall and has by +now established a vigorous new society.</p> + +<p>“Honorable Members of the Council, I submit that all the resources +of this Government should be at once placed at the disposal of a task +force with the assigned duty of constructing a fifty-thousand-ton +scouting vessel, and conducting an exhaustive survey of a volume of +space of one thousand A.U.’s centered on the so-called Omega +Cluster.”</p> + +<p>The World Secretary interrupted the babble which arose with the +completion of the officer’s presentation.</p> + +<p>“Ladies and gentlemen, time is of the essence of our problem. +Let’s proceed at once to orderly interrogation. Mr. Klayle, lead +off, please.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>The portly Councillor glared at the Commander. “The undertaking +you propose, sir, will require a massive diversion of our capacities +from defense. That means losing ground at an increasing rate to the +obscenity crawling over our planet. That same potential applied to +direct offensive measures may yet turn the balance in our favor. Against +this, the possibility of a scouting party stumbling over the remains of +a colony the location of which is almost completely problematical, and +which by analogy with all of the earlier colonial attempts has at best +managed to survive as a marginal foothold, is so fantastically remote as +to be inconsiderable.”</p> + +<p>The Commander listened coolly, seriously. “Mr. Councillor,” +he replied, “as to our defensive measures, we have passed the +point of diminishing returns. We have more knowledge now than we are +capable of employing against the plague. Had we not neglected the +physical sciences as we have for the last two centuries, we might have +developed adequate measures before we had been so far reduced in numbers +and area as to be unable to produce and employ the new weapons our +laboratories have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +belatedly developed. Now we must be realistic; there is no hope in that +direction.</p> + +<p>“As to the location of the Omega World, our plan is based on the +fact that the selection was not made at random. Our scout will proceed +along the Omega course line as known to us from the observations which +were carried on for almost three years after its departure. We propose +to continue on that line, carrying out systematic observation of each +potential sun in turn. As we detect planets, we will alter course only +as necessary to satisfy ourselves as to the possibility of suitability +of the planet. We can safely assume that Omega will not have bypassed +any likely target. If we should have more than one prospect under +consideration at any time, we shall examine them in turn. If the Omega +World has developed successfully, ample evidence should be discernible +at a distance.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Klayle muttered “Madness,” and subsided. The angular member +on his left spoke gently, “Mr. Greylorn, why, if this colonial +venture has met with the success you assume, has its government not +reestablished contact with the mother world during the last two +centuries?”</p> + +<p>“On that score, Mr. Councillor, we can only conjecture,” the +Commander said. “The outward voyage may have required as much as +fifty or sixty years. After that, there must have followed a lengthy +period of development and expansion in building the new world. It is not +to be expected that the pioneers would be ready to expend resources in +expeditionary ventures for some time.”</p> + +<p>“I do not completely understand your apparent confidence in the +ability of the hypothetical Omega culture to supply massive aid to us, +even if its people should be so inclined,” said a straight-backed +woman member. “The time seems very short for the mastery of an +alien world.”</p> + +<p>“The population development plan, Madam, provided for an increase +from the original 10,000 colonists to approximately 40,000 within twenty +years, after which the rate of increase would of course rapidly grow. +Assuming sixty years for planetfall, the population should now number +over one hundred sixty millions. Given population, all else +follows.”</p> + +<p>Two hours later, the World Secretary summed up. “Ladies and +gentlemen, we have the facts before us. There still exist differences in +interpretation, which however will not be resolved by continued +repetition. I now call for a vote on the resolution proposed by the +Military Member and presented by Commander Greylorn.”</p> + +<p>There was silence in the Council Chamber as the votes were recorded and +tabulated. Then the World Secretary sighed softly.</p> + +<p>“Commander,” he said, “the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> Council has approved the +resolution. I’m sure that there will be general agreement that you +will be placed at the head of the project, since you were director of +the team which developed the new drive and are also the author of the +plan. I wish you the best of luck.” He rose and extended his hand.</p> + +<p>The first keel plate of the Armed Courier Vessel <i>Galahad</i> was laid +thirty-two hours later.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_1" id="CHAPTER_1"></a>CHAPTER 1</h2> + +<p>I expected trouble when I left the bridge. The tension that had been +building for many weeks was ready for release in violence. The ship was +silent as I moved along the passageway. Oddly silent, I thought; +something was brewing.</p> + +<p>I stopped before the door of my cabin, listening; then I put my ear to +the wall. I caught the faintest of sounds from within; a muffled click, +voices. Someone was inside, someone attempting to be very quiet. I was +not overly surprised. Sooner or later the trouble had had to come into +the open. I looked up the passage, dim in the green glow of the +nightlights. There was no one in sight.</p> + +<p>I listened. There were three voices, too faint to identify. The clever +thing for me to do now would be to walk back up to the bridge, and order +the Provost Marshall to clear my cabin, but I had an intuitive feeling +that that was not the way to handle the situation. It would make things +much simpler all around if I could push through this with as little +commotion as possible.</p> + +<p>There was no point in waiting. I took out my key and placed it +soundlessly in the slot. As the door slid back I stepped briskly into +the room. Kramer, the Medical Officer, and Joyce, Assistant +Communications Officer, stood awkwardly, surprised. Fine, the Supply +Officer, was sprawled on my bunk. He sat up quickly.</p> + +<p>They were a choice selection. Two of them were wearing sidearms. I +wondered if they were ready to use them, or if they knew just how far +they were prepared to go. My task would be to keep them from finding +out.</p> + +<p>I avoided looking surprised. “Good evening, gentlemen,” I +said cheerfully. I stepped to the liquor cabinet, opened it, poured +Scotch into a glass. “Join me in a drink?” I said.</p> + +<p>None of them answered. I sat down. I had to move just a little faster +than they did, and by holding the initiative, keep them off balance. +They had counted on hearing my approach, having a few moments to get +set, and using my surprise against me. I had reversed their play and +taken the advantage. How long I could keep it depended on how well I +played my few cards. I plunged ahead, as I saw Kramer take a breath and +wrinkle his brow, about to make his pitch.</p> + +<p>“The men need a change, a break in the monotony,” I said. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +“I’ve been considering a number of possibilities.” I +fixed my eyes on Fine as I talked. He sat stiffly on the edge of my +bunk. Already he was regretting his boldness in presuming to rumple the +Captain’s bed.</p> + +<p>“It might be a good bit of drill to set up a few live missile runs +on random targets,” I said. “There’s also the +possibility of setting up a small arms range and qualifying all +hands.” I switched my eyes to Kramer. Fine was sorry he’d +come, and Joyce wouldn’t take the initiative; Kramer was my +problem. “I see you have your Mark 9, Major,” I said, +holding out my hand. “May I see it?” I smiled pleasantly.</p> + +<p>I hoped I had hit him quickly and smoothly enough, before he had had +time to adjust to the situation. Even for a hard operator like Kramer, +it took mental preparation to openly defy his Commander, particularly in +casual conversation. But possession of the weapon was more than +casual....</p> + +<p>I looked at him, smiling, my hand held out. He wasn’t ready; he +pulled the pistol from its case, handed it to me.</p> + +<p>I flipped the chamber open, glanced at the charge indicator, checked the +action. “Nice weapon,” I said. I laid it on the open bar at +my right.</p> + +<p>Joyce opened his mouth to speak. I cut in in the same firm snappy tone I +use on the bridge. “Let me see yours, Lieutenant.”</p> + +<p>He flushed, looked at Kramer, then passed the pistol over without a +word. I took it, turned it over thoughtfully, and then rose, holding it +negligently by the grip.</p> + +<p>“Now, if you gentlemen don’t mind, I have a few things to +attend to.” I was not smiling. I looked at Kramer with +expressionless eyes. “I think we’d better keep our little +chat confidential for the present. I think I can promise you action in +the near future, though.”</p> + +<p>They filed out, looking as foolish as three preachers caught in a raid +on a brothel. I stood without moving until the door closed. Then I let +my breath out. I sat down and finished off the Scotch in one drag.</p> + +<p>“You were lucky, boy,” I said aloud. “Three gutless +wonders.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I looked at the Mark 9’s on the table. A blast from one of those +would have burned all four of us in that enclosed room. I dumped them +into a drawer and loaded my Browning 2mm. The trouble wasn’t over +yet, I knew. After this farce, Kramer would have to make another move to +regain his prestige. I unlocked the door, and left it slightly ajar. +Then I threw the main switch and stretched out on my bunk. I put the +Browning needler on the little shelf near my right hand.</p> + +<p>Perhaps I had made a mistake, I reflected, in eliminating formal +discipline as far as possible in the shipboard routine. It had seemed +the best course for a long cruise under the present conditions. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +But now I had a morale situation that could explode in mutiny at the +first blunder on my part.</p> + +<p>I knew that Kramer was the focal point of the trouble. He was my senior +staff officer, and carried a great deal of weight in the Officer’s +Mess. As a medic, he knew most of the crew better than I. I thought I +knew Kramer’s driving motive, too. He had always been a great +success with the women. When he had volunteered for the mission he had +doubtless pictured himself as quite a romantic hero, off on a noble but +hopeless quest. Now, after four years in deep space, he was beginning to +realize that he was getting no younger, and that at best he would have +spent a decade of his prime in monastic seclusion. He wanted to go back +now, and salvage what he could.</p> + +<p>It was incredible to me that this movement could have gathered +followers, but I had to face the fact; my crew almost to a man had given +up the search before it was well begun. I had heard the first rumors +only a few weeks before, but the idea had spread through the crew like +wildfire. Now, I couldn’t afford drastic action, or risk forcing a +blowup by arresting ringleaders. I had to baby the situation along with +an easy hand and hope for good news from the Survey Section. A likely +find now would save us.</p> + +<p>There was still every reason to hope for success in our search. To date +all had gone according to plan. We had followed the route of Omega as +far as it had been charted, and then gone on, studying the stars ahead +for evidence of planets. We had made our first finds early in the fourth +year of the voyage. It had been a long tedious time since then of study +and observation, eliminating one world after another as too massive, too +cold, too close to a blazing primary, too small to hold an atmosphere. +In all we had discovered twelve planets, of four suns. Only one had +looked good enough for close observation. We had moved in to televideo +range before realizing it was an all-sea world.</p> + +<p>Now we had five new main-sequence suns ahead within six months’ +range. I hoped for a confirmation on a planet at any time. To turn back +now to a world that had pinned its last hopes on our success was +unthinkable, yet this was Kramer’s plan, and that of his +followers. They would not prevail while I lived. Still it was not my +plan to be a party to our failure through martyrdom. I intended to stay +alive and carry through to success. I dozed lightly and waited.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I awoke when they tried the door. It had swung open a few inches at the +touch of the one who had tried it, not expecting it to be unlatched. It +stood ajar now, the pale light from the hall shining on the floor. No +one entered. Kramer was still fumbling, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +unsure of himself. At every surprise with which I presented him, he was +paralyzed, expecting a trap. Several minutes passed in tense silence; +then the door swung wider.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be forced to kill the first man who enters this +room,” I said in a steady voice. I hadn’t picked up the gun.</p> + +<p>I heard urgent whispers in the hall. Then a hand reached in behind the +shelter of the door and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened, +since I had opened the main switch. It was only a small discomfiture, +but it had the effect of interfering with their plan of action, such as +it was. These men were being pushed along by Kramer, without a clearly +thought out plan. They hardly knew how to go about defying lawful +authority.</p> + +<p>I called out, “I suggest you call this nonsense off now, and go +back to your quarters, men. I don’t know who is involved in this, +yet. You can get away clean if you leave quietly, now, before +you’ve made a serious mistake.”</p> + +<p>I hoped it would work. This little adventure, abortive though it was, +might serve to let off steam. The men would have something to talk about +for a few precious days. I picked up the needler and waited. If the +bluff failed, I would have to kill someone.</p> + +<p>Distantly I heard a metallic clatter. Moments later a tremor rattled the +objects on the shelf, followed a few seconds later by a heavy +shuddering. Papers slid from my desk, fluttered across the floor. The +whiskey bottle toppled, rolled to the far wall. I felt dizzy, as my bunk +seemed to tilt under me. I reached for the intercom key and flipped it.</p> + +<p>“Taylor,” I said, “this is the Captain. What’s +the report?”</p> + +<p>There was a momentary delay before the answer came. “Captain, +we’ve taken a meteor strike aft, apparently a metallic body. It +must have hit us a tremendous wallop because it’s set up a +rotation. I’ve called out Damage Control.”</p> + +<p>“Good work, Taylor,” I said. I keyed for Stores; the object +must have hit about there. “This is the Captain,” I said. +“Any damage there?”</p> + +<p>I got a hum of background noise, then a too-close transmission. +“Uh, Cap’n, we got a hole in the aft bulkhead here. I +slapped a seat pad over it. Man, that coulda killed somebody.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I flipped off the intercom and started aft at a run. My visitors had +evaporated. In the passage men stood, milled, called questions. I keyed +my mike as I ran. “Taylor, order all hands to emergency +stations.”</p> + +<p>It was difficult running, since the floors had assumed an apparent tilt. +Loose gear was rolling and sliding along underfoot, propelled forward by +centrifugal force. Aft of Stores, I heard the whistle of escaping air +and high pressure gasses from ruptured lines. Vapor clouds fogged the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +air. I called for floodlights for the whole sector.</p> + +<p>Clay appeared out of the fog with his damage control crew. +“Sir,” he said, “it’s punctured inner and outer +shells in two places, and fragments have riddled the whole sector. There +are at least three men dead, and two hurt.”</p> + +<p>“Taylor,” I called, “let’s have another damage +control crew back here on the triple. Get the medics back here, +too.” Clay and his men put on masks and moved off. I borrowed one +from a man standing by and followed. The large exit puncture was in the +forward cargo lock. The room was sealed off, limiting the air loss.</p> + +<p>“Clay,” I said, “pass this up for the moment and get +that entry puncture sealed. I’ll put the extra crew in suits to +handle this.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I moved back into clear air and called for reports from all sections. +The worst of the damage was in the auxiliary power control room, where +communication and power lines were slashed and the panel cut up. The +danger of serious damage to essential equipment had been very close, but +we had been lucky. This was the first instance I had heard <ins +class='corr' title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘of of’.">of</ins> encountering an object at hyper light speed.</p> + +<p>It was astonishing how this threat to our safety cleared the air. The +men went about their duties more cheerfully than they had for months, +and Kramer was conspicuous by his subdued air. The emergency had +reestablished at least for the time the normal discipline; the men still +relied on the Captain in trouble.</p> + +<p>Damage control crews worked steadily for the next seventy-two hours, +replacing wiring, welding, and testing. Power Section jockeyed +endlessly, correcting air motions. Meanwhile, I checked almost hourly +with Survey Section, hoping for good news to consolidate the improved +morale situation.</p> + +<p>It was on Sunday morning, just after dawn relief that Lt. Taylor came up +to the bridge looking sick.</p> + +<p>“Sir,” he said, “we took more damage than we knew with +that meteor strike.” He stopped and swallowed hard.</p> + +<p>“What have you got, Lieutenant?” I said.</p> + +<p>“We missed a piece. It must have gone off on a tangent through +stores into the cooler. Clipped the <ins class='corr' +title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘collant’.">coolant</ins> line, and let warm air in. All the fresh +frozen stuff is contaminated and rotten.” He gagged. “I got +a whiff of it, sir. Excuse me.” He rushed away.</p> + +<p>This was calamity.</p> + +<p>We didn’t carry much in the way of fresh natural food; but what we +had was vital. It was a bulky, delicate cargo to handle, but the +chemists hadn’t yet come up with synthetics to fill all the +dietary needs of man. We could get by fine for a long time on vitamin +tablets and concentrates; but there were nutritional +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +elements that you couldn’t get that way. Hydroponics didn’t +help; we had to have a few ounces of fresh meat and vegetables grown in +sunlight every week, or start to die within months.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I knew that Kramer wouldn’t let this chance pass. As Medical +Officer he would be well within his rights in calling to my attention +the fact that our health would soon begin to suffer. I felt sure he +would do so as loudly and publicly as possible at the first opportunity.</p> + +<p>My best move was to beat him to the punch by making a general +announcement, giving the facts in the best possible light. That might +take some of the sting out of anything Kramer said later.</p> + +<p>I gave it to them, short and to the point. “Men, we’ve just +suffered a serious loss. All the fresh frozen stores are gone. That +doesn’t mean we’ll be going on short rations; there are +plenty of concentrates and vitamins aboard. But it does mean we’re +going to be suffering from deficiencies in our diet.</p> + +<p>“We didn’t come out here on a pleasure cruise; we’re +on a mission that leaves no room for failure. This is just one more fact +for us to face. Now let’s get on with the job.”</p> + +<p>I walked into the wardroom, drew a cup of near-coffee, and sat down. The +screen showed a beach with booming surf. The sound track picked up the +crash and hiss of the breakers. Considering the red plague that now +covered the scene, I thought it was a poor choice. I dialed for a high +view of rolling farmland.</p> + +<p>Mannion sat at a table across the room with Kirschenbaum. They were +hunched over their cups, not talking. I wondered where they stood. +Mannion, Communications Officer, was neurotic, but an old Armed Force +man. Discipline meant a lot to him. Kirschenbaum, Power Chief, was a +joker, with cold eyes, and smarter than he seemed. The question was +whether he was smart enough to idealize the stupidity of retreat now.</p> + +<p>Kramer walked in, not wasting any time. He saw me and came over. He +stopped a few feet from the table, and said loudly, “Captain, +I’d like to know your plans, now that the possibility of +continuing is out.”</p> + +<p>I sipped my near-coffee and looked at the rolling farmland. I +didn’t answer him. If I could get him mad, I could take him at his +game.</p> + +<p>Kramer turned red. He didn’t like being ignored. The two at the +other table were watching.</p> + +<p>“Captain,” Kramer said loudly. “As Medical Officer I +have to know what measures you’re taking to protect the health of +the men.”</p> + +<p>This was a little better. He was on the defensive now; explaining why he +had a right to question his Commander. I wanted him a little hotter +though.</p> + +<p>I looked up at him. “Kramer,”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +I said in a clear, not too loud voice, “you’re on watch. I +don’t want to find you hanging around the wardroom making light +chit-chat until you’re properly relieved from duty.” I went +back to my near-coffee and the farmland. A river was in view now, and +beyond it distant mountains.</p> + +<p>Kramer was furious. “Joyce has relieved me, Captain,” he +said, controlling his voice with an effort. “I felt I’d +better take this matter up with you as soon as possible, since it +affects the health of every man aboard.” He was trying to keep +cool, in command of himself.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t authorized any changes in the duty roster, +Major,” I said mildly. “Report to your post.” I was +riding the habit of discipline now, as far as it would carry me. I hoped +that disobedience to a direct order, solidly based on regulations, was a +little too big a jump for Kramer at the moment. Tomorrow it might be +different. But it was essential that I break up the scene he was +staging.</p> + +<p>He wilted. “I’ll see you at 1700 in the chart room, +Kramer,” I said as he turned away. Mannion and <ins class='corr' +title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘Kireschenbaum’.">Kirschenbaum</ins> looked at each other, then +finished their near-coffee hurriedly and left. I hoped their version of +the incident would help deflate Kramer’s standing among the +malcontents.</p> + +<p>I left the wardroom and took the lift up to the bridge and checked with +Clay and his survey team.</p> + +<p>“I think I’ve spotted a slight perturbation in Delta 3, +Captain,” Clay said. “I’m not sure, we’re still +pretty far out.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Clay,” I said. “Stay with it.”</p> + +<p>Clay was one of my more dependable men, dedicated to his work. +Unfortunately, he was no man of action. He would have little influence +in a show-down.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I was at the Schmidt when I heard the lift open. I turned; Kramer, Fine, +Taylor, and a half a dozen enlisted crew chiefs crowded out, bunched +together. They were all wearing needlers. At least they’d learned +that much, I thought.</p> + +<p>Kramer moved forward. “We feel that the question of the +men’s welfare has to be dealt with right away, Captain,” he +said smoothly.</p> + +<p>I looked at him coldly, glanced at the rest of his crew. I said nothing.</p> + +<p>“What we’re faced with is pretty grim, even if we turn back +now. I can’t be responsible for the results if there’s any +delay,” Kramer said. He spoke in an arrogant tone. I looked them +over, let the silence build.</p> + +<p>“You’re in charge of this menagerie?” I said, looking +at Kramer. “If so, you’ve got thirty seconds to send them +back to their kennels. We’ll go into the matter of unauthorized +personnel on the bridge later. As for you, Major, you can consider +yourself under arrest in quarters. Now <i>Move</i>.”</p> + +<p>Kramer was ready to stare me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +down, but Fine gave me a break by tugging at his sleeve. Kramer shook +him loose, snarling. At that the crew chiefs faded back into the lift. +Fine and Taylor hesitated, then joined them. Kramer started to shout +after them, then got hold of himself. The lift moved down.</p> + +<p>Kramer thought about going for his needler. I looked at him through +narrowed eyes. He decided to rely on his mouth, as usual. He licked his +lips. “All right, I’m under arrest,” he said. +“But as Medical Officer of this vessel it’s my duty to +remind you that you can’t live without a certain minimum of fresh +organic food. We’ve got to start back now.” He was pale, but +determined. He couldn’t bear the thought of getting bald and +toothless from dietary deficiency. The girls would never give him +another look.</p> + +<p>“We’re going on, Kramer,” I said. “As long as we +have a man aboard still able to move. Teeth or no teeth.”</p> + +<p>“Deficiency disease is no joke, Captain,” Kramer said. +“You can get all the symptoms of leprosy, cancer and <ins +class='corr' title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘syphillis’.">syphilis</ins> just by skipping a few necessary +elements in your diet. And we’re missing most of them.”</p> + +<p>“Giving me your opinions is one thing, Kramer,” I said. +“Mutiny is another.”</p> + +<p>Clay stood beside the main screen, wide-eyed. I couldn’t send +Kramer down under his guard. “Let’s go, Kramer,” I +said. “I’m locking you up myself.”</p> + +<p>We rode down in the lift. The men who had been with Kramer stood +awkwardly, silent as we stepped out into the passage. I spotted two +chronic trouble-makers among them. I thought I might as well call them +now as later. “Williams and Nagle,” I said, “this +officer is under arrest. Escort him to his quarters and lock him +in.” As they stepped forward hesitantly, Kramer said, “Keep +your filthy hooks off me.” He started down the passage.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>If I could get Kramer put away before anybody else started trouble, I +might be able to bluff it through. I followed him and his two sheepish +guards down past the power section, and the mess. I hoped there would be +no crowd there to see their hero Kramer under guard.</p> + +<p>I was out of luck. Apparently word had gone out of Kramer’s +arrest, and the corridor was clogged with men. They stood unmoving as we +approached. Kramer stopped.</p> + +<p>“Clear this passage, you men,” I said.</p> + +<p>Slowly they began to move back, giving ground reluctantly.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Kramer shouted. “That’s right, you whiners and +complainers, clear the way so the Captain can take me back to the +missile deck and shoot me. You just want to talk about home; you +haven’t got the guts to do anything about it.”</p> + +<p>The moving mass halted, milled. Someone shouted, “Who’s he +think he is, anyway.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +Kramer whirled toward me. “He thinks he’s the man +who’s going to let you all rot alive, to save his record.”</p> + +<p>“Williams, Nagle,” I said loudly, “clear this +passage.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Williams started half-heartedly to shove at the men nearest him. A fist +flashed out and snapped his head back. That was a mistake; Williams +pulled his needler, and fired a <ins class='corr' +title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘richochet’.">ricochet</ins> down the passage.</p> + +<p>“’Bout twelve a you yellow-bellies git outa my way,” +he yelled. “I’m comin’ through.”</p> + +<p>Nagle moved close to Williams, and shouted something to him. The noise +drowned it. Kramer swung back to me, frantic to regain his sway over the +mob.</p> + +<p>“Once I’m out of the way, there’ll be a general +purge,” he roared. The hubbub faded, as men turned to hear him.</p> + +<p>“You’re all marked men. He’s gone mad. He won’t +let one of you live.” Kramer had their eyes now. “Take him +now,” he shouted, and seized my arm to begin the action.</p> + +<p>He’d rushed it a little. I hit him across the face with the back +of my hand. No one jumped to his assistance. I drew my 2mm. “If +you ever lay a hand on your Commanding Officer again, I’ll burn +you where you stand, Kramer.”</p> + +<p>Then a voice came from behind me. “You’re not killing +anybody without a trial, Captain.” Joyce stood there with two of +the crew chiefs, needler in hand. Fine and Taylor were not in sight.</p> + +<p>I pushed Kramer out of my way and walked up to Joyce.</p> + +<p>“Hand me that weapon, Junior, butt first,” I said. I looked +him in the eye with all the glare I had. He stepped back a pace.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you jump him,” he called to the crowd.</p> + +<p>The wall annunciator hummed and spoke.</p> + +<p>“Captain Greylorn, please report to the bridge. Unidentified body +on main scope.”</p> + +<p>Every man stopped in his tracks, listening. The annunciator continued. +“Looks like it’s decelerating, Captain.”</p> + +<p>I holstered my pistol, pushed past Joyce, and trotted for the lift. The +mob behind me broke up, talking, as men under long habit ran for action +stations.</p> + +<p>Clay was operating calmly under pressure. He sat at the main screen, and +studied the blip, making tiny crayon marks.</p> + +<p>“She’s too far out for a reliable scanner track, +Captain,” he said, “but I’m pretty sure she’s +braking.”</p> + +<p>If that were true, this might be the break we’d been living for. +Only manned or controlled bodies decelerated in deep space.</p> + +<p>“How did you spot it, Clay?” I asked. Picking up a tiny mass +like this was a delicate job, even when you knew its coordinates.</p> + +<p>“Just happened to catch my eye, Captain,” he said. “I +always make a general check every watch of the whole forward quadrant. I +noticed a blip where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +I didn’t remember seeing one before.”</p> + +<p>“You have quite an eye, Clay,” I said. “How about +getting this object in the beam.”</p> + +<p>“We’re trying now, Captain,” he said. +“That’s a mighty small field, though.”</p> + +<p>Joyce called from the radar board, “I think I’m getting an +echo at 15,000, sir. It’s pretty weak.”</p> + +<p>Miller, quiet and meticulous, delicately tuned the beam control. +“Give me your fix, Joyce,” he said. “I can’t +find it.”</p> + +<p>Joyce called out his figures, in seconds of arc to three places.</p> + +<p>“You’re right on it, Joyce,” Miller called a minute +later. “I got it. Now pray it don’t get away when I boost +it.”</p> + +<p>Clay stepped over behind Miller. “Take it a few mags at a +time,” he said calmly.</p> + +<p>I watched Miller’s screen. A tiny point near the center of the +screen swelled to a spec, and jumped nearly off the screen to the left. +Miller centered it again, and switched to a higher power. This time it +jumped less, and resolved into two tiny dots.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Step by step the magnification was increased as ring after ring of the +lens antenna was thrown into play. Each time the centering operation was +more delicate. The image grew until it filled a quarter of the screen. +We stared at it in fascination.</p> + +<p>It showed up in stark silhouette, in the electronic “light” +of the radar scope. Two perfect discs, joined by a fine filament. As we +watched, their relative positions slowly shifted, one moving across, +half occluding the other.</p> + +<p>As the image drifted, Miller worked with infinite care at his console to +hold it on center, in sharp focus.</p> + +<p>“Wish you’d give me an orbit on this thing, Joyce,” he +said, “so I could lock onto it.”</p> + +<p>“It ain’t got no orbit, man,” Joyce said. +“I’m trackin’ it, but I don’t understand it. +That rock is on a closing curve with us, and slowin’ down +fast.”</p> + +<p>“What’s the velocity, Joyce?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Averagin’ about 1,000 relative, Captain, but slowin’ +fast.”</p> + +<p>“All right, we’ll hold our course,” I said.</p> + +<p>I keyed for a general announcement.</p> + +<p>“This is the Captain,” I said. “General Quarters. Man +action stations and prepare for possible contact within one hour.”</p> + +<p>“Missile Section. Arm No. 1 Battery and stand by.”</p> + +<p>Then I added, “We don’t know what we’ve got here, but +it’s not a natural body. Could be anything from a torpedo on +up.”</p> + +<p>I went back to the Beam screen. The image was clear, but without detail. +The two discs slowly drew apart, then closed again.</p> + +<p>“I’d guess that movement is due to rotation of two spheres +around a common center,” Clay said.</p> + +<p>“I agree with you,” I said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +“Try to get me a reading on the mass of the object.”</p> + +<p>I wondered whether Kramer had been locked up as I had ordered, but at +this moment it seemed unimportant. If this was, as I hoped, a contact +with our colony, all our troubles were over.</p> + +<p>The object (I hesitated to call it a ship) approached steadily, still +decelerating. Now Clay picked it up on the televideo, as it paralleled +our course forty-five hundred miles out.</p> + +<p>“Captain, it’s my guess the body will match speeds with us +at about 200 miles, at his present rate of deceleration,” Clay +said.</p> + +<p>“Hold everything you’ve got on him, and watch closely for +anything that might be a missile,” I said.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Clay worked steadily over his chart table. Finally he turned to me. +“Captain, I get a figure of over a hundred million tons mass; and +calibrating the scope images gives us a length of nearly two +miles.”</p> + +<p>I let that sink in. I had a strong and very empty feeling that this +ship, if ship it were, was not an envoy from any human colony.</p> + +<p>The annunciator hummed and spoke. “Captain, I’m getting a +very short wave transmission from a point out on the starboard bow. Does +that sound like your torpedo?” It was Mannion.</p> + +<p>“That’s it, Mannion,” I said. “Can you make +anything of it?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” he answered. “I’m taping it, so I can +go to work on it.”</p> + +<p>Mannion was our language and code man. I hoped he was good.</p> + +<p>“What does it sound like,” I asked. “Tune me +in.”</p> + +<p>After a moment a high hum came from the speaker. Through it I could hear +harsh chopping consonants, a whining intonation. I doubted that Mannion +would be able to make anything of that gargle.</p> + +<p>Our Bogie closed steadily. At four hundred twenty-five miles he reversed +relative directions, and began matching our speed, moving closer to our +course. There was no doubt he planned to parallel us.</p> + +<p>I made a brief announcement to all hands describing the status of the +action. Clay worked over his televideo, trying to clear the image. I +watched as the blob on the screen swelled and flickered. Suddenly it +flashed into clear stark definition. Against a background of sparkling +black, the twin spheres gleamed faintly in reflected starlight.</p> + +<p>There were no visible surface features; the iodine-colored forms and +their connecting shaft had an ancient and alien look.</p> + +<p>We held our course steadily, watching the stranger maneuver. Even at +this distance it looked huge.</p> + +<p>“Captain,” Clay said, “I’ve been making a few +rough calculations. The two spheres are about 800 yards in diameter, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +at the rate the structure is rotating it’s pulling about six +gravities.”</p> + +<p>That settled the question of human origin of the ship. No human crew +would choose to work under six gee’s.</p> + +<p>Now, paralleling us at just over two hundred miles, the giant ship spun +along, at rest relative to us. It was visible now through the direct +observation panel, without magnification.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I left Clay in charge on the bridge, and I went down to the Com Section.</p> + +<p>Joyce sat at his board, reading instruments and keying controls. So he +was back on the job. Mannion sat, head bent, monitoring his recorder. +The room was filled with the keening <ins class='corr' +title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘staccatto’.">staccato</ins> of the alien transmission.</p> + +<p>“Getting anything on video?” I asked. Joyce shook his head. +“Nothing, Captain. I’ve checked the whole spectrum, and this +is all I get. It’s coming in on about a dozen different +frequencies; no FM.”</p> + +<p>“Any progress, Mannion?” I said.</p> + +<p>He took off his headset. “It’s the same thing, repeated over +and over, just a short phrase. I’d have better luck if +they’d vary it a little.”</p> + +<p>“Try sending,” I said.</p> + +<p>Joyce tuned the clatter down to a faint clicking, and switched his +transmitter on. “You’re on, Captain,” he said.</p> + +<p>“This is Captain Greylorn, UNACV Galahad; kindly identify +yourself.” I repeated this slowly, half a dozen times. It occurred +to me that this was the first known time in history a human being had +addressed a non-human intelligence. The last was a guess, but I +couldn’t interpret our guest’s purposeful maneuverings as +other than intelligent.</p> + +<p>I checked with the bridge; no change. Suddenly the clatter stopped, +leaving only the carrier hum.</p> + +<p>“Can’t you tune that whine out, Joyce?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” he replied. “That’s a very noisy +transmission. Sounds like maybe their equipment is on the blink.”</p> + +<p>We listened to the hum, waiting. Then the clatter began again.</p> + +<p>“This is different,” Mannion said. “It’s +longer.”</p> + +<p>I went back to the bridge, and waited for the next move from the +stranger, or for word from Mannion. Every half hour I transmitted a call +identifying us, followed by a sample of our language. I gave them +English, Russian, and Standard Interlingua. I didn’t know why, but +somehow I had a faint hope they might understand some of it.</p> + +<p>I stayed on the bridge when the watch changed. I had some food sent up, +and slept a few hours on the OD’s bunk.</p> + +<p>Fine replaced Kramer on his watch when it rolled around. Apparently +Kramer was out of circulation. At this point I did not feel inclined to +pursue the point.</p> + +<p>We had been at General Quarters <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +for twenty-one hours when the wall annunciator hummed.</p> + +<p>“Captain, this is Mannion. I’ve busted it....”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be right there,” I said, and left at a run.</p> + +<p>Mannion was writing as I entered ComSection. He stopped his recorder and +offered me a sheet. “This is what I’ve got so far, +Captain,” he said.</p> + +<p>I read: INVADER; THE MANCJI PRESENCE OPENS COMMUNICATIONS.</p> + +<p>“That’s a highly inflected version of early Interlingua, +Captain,” Mannion said. “After I taped it, I compensated it +to take out the rise-and-fall tone, and then filtered out the static. +There were a few sound substitutions to figure out, but I finally caught +on. It still doesn’t make much sense, but that’s what it +says.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder what we’re invading,” I said. “And +what is the “Mancji Presence’?”</p> + +<p>“They just repeat that over and over,” Mannion said. +“They don’t answer our call.”</p> + +<p>“Try translating into old Interlingua, adding their sound changes, +and then feeding their own rise-and-fall routine to it,” I said. +“Maybe that will get a response.”</p> + +<p>I waited while Mannion worked out the message, then taped it on top of +their whining tone pattern. “Put plenty of horse-power behind +it,” I said. “If their receivers are as shaky as their +transmitter, they might not be hearing us.”</p> + +<p>We sent for five minutes, then tuned them back in and waited. There was +a long silence from their side, then they came back with a long +spluttering sing-song.</p> + +<p>Mannion worked over it for several minutes. .ldThey must have understood +us, here’s what I get,” he said:</p> + +<blockquote><p class='noin'>THAT WHICH SWIMS IN THE MANCJI SEA; WE ARE AWARE THAT YOU HAVE THIS +TRADE TONGUE. YOU RANGE FAR. IT IS OUR WHIM TO INDULGE YOU; WE ARE +AMUSED THAT YOU PRESUME HERE; WE ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR INSOLENT DEMANDS.</p></blockquote> + +<p>“It looks like we’re in somebody’s back yard,” I +said. “They acknowledge our insolent demands, but they don’t +answer them.” I thought a moment. “Send this,” I said. +“We’ll out-strut them:”</p> + +<blockquote><p class='noin'>THE MIGHTY WARSHIP GALAHAD REJECTS YOUR JURISDICTION.</p> + +<p class='noin'>TELL US THE NATURE OF YOUR DISTRESS AND WE MAY CHOOSE TO OFFER AID.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Mannion raised an eyebrow. “That ought to rock them,” he +said.</p> + +<p>“They were eager to talk to us,” I said. “That means +they want something, in my opinion. And all the big talk sounds like a +bluff of our own is our best line.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you want to antagonize <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +them, Captain?” Joyce asked. “That ship is over a thousand +times the size of this can.”</p> + +<p>“Joyce, I suggest you let me forget you’re around,” I +said.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>The Mancji whine was added to my message, and it went out. Moments later +this came back:</p> + +<blockquote><p class='noin'>MANCJI HONOR DICTATES YOUR SAFE-CONDUCT; TALK IS WEARYING; WE FIND +IT CONVENIENT TO SOLICIT A TRANSFER OF ELECTROSTATIC FORCE.</p></blockquote> + +<p>“What the devil does that mean?” I said. “Tell them to +loosen up and explain themselves.”</p> + +<p>Mannion wrote out a straight query, and sent it. Again we waited for a +reply.</p> + +<p>It came, in a long windy paragraph stating that the Mancji found +electro-static baths amusing, and that “<ins class='corr' +title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘crystalization’.">crystallization</ins>” had drained their +tanks. They wanted a flow of electrons from us to replenish their +supply.</p> + +<p>“This sounds like simple electric current they’re talking +about, Captain,” Mannion said. “They want a battery +charge.”</p> + +<p>“They seem to have power to burn,” I said. “Why +don’t they generate their own juice? Ask them; and find out where +they learned Interlingua.”</p> + +<p>Mannion sent again; the reply was slow in coming back. Finally we got +it:</p> + +<blockquote><p class='noin'>THE MANCJI DO NOT EMPLOY MASSIVE GENERATION-PIECE WHERE +ACCUMULATOR-PIECE IS SUFFICIENT. THIS SIMPLE TRADE SPEECH IS OF OLD +KNOWLEDGE. WE SELECT IT FROM SYMBOLS WE ARE PLEASED TO SENSE +EMPATTERNED ON YOUR HULL.</p></blockquote> + +<p>That made some sort of sense, but I was intrigued by the reference to +Interlingua as a trade language. I wanted to know where they had learned +it. I couldn’t help the hope I started building on the idea that +this giant knew our colony, in spite of the fact that they were using an +antique version of the language, predating Omega by several centuries.</p> + +<p>I sent another query, but the reply was abrupt and told nothing except +that Interlingua was of “old knowledge.”</p> + +<p>Then Mannion entered a long technical exchange, getting the details of +the kind of electric power they wanted.</p> + +<p>“We can give them what they want, no sweat, Captain,” he +said after half an hour’s talk. “They want DC; 100 volt, 50 +amp will do.”</p> + +<p>“Ask them to describe themselves,” I directed. I was +beginning to get an idea.</p> + +<p>Mannion sent, got his reply. “They’re molluscoid, +Captain,” he said. He looked shocked. “They weigh about two +tons each.”</p> + +<p>“Ask them what they eat,” I said.</p> + +<p>I turned to Joyce as Mannion worked over the message. “Get +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +Kramer up here, on the double,” I said.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Kramer came in five minutes later, looking drawn and rumpled. He stared +at me sullenly.</p> + +<p>“I’m releasing you from arrest temporarily on your own +parole, Major,” I said. “I want you to study the reply to +our last transmission, and tell me what you can about it.”</p> + +<p>“Why me?” Kramer said. “I don’t know +what’s going on.” I didn’t answer him.</p> + +<p>There was a long tense half hour wait before Mannion copied out the +reply that came in a stuttering nasal. He handed it to me.</p> + +<p>As I had hoped, the message, after a preliminary recital of the +indifference of the Mancji to biological processes of ingestion, recited +a list of standard biochemical symbols.</p> + +<p>“Can we eat this stuff?” I asked Kramer, handing him the +sheet.</p> + +<p>He studied it, and some of his accustomed swagger began to return. +“I don’t know what the flowery phrases are all about, but +the symbols refer to common proteins, lipins, carbohydrates, vitamins, +and biomins,” he said. “What is this, a game?”</p> + +<p>“All right, Mannion,” I said. I was trying to hold back the +excitement. “Ask them if they have fresh sources of these +substances aboard.”</p> + +<p>The reply was quick; they did.</p> + +<p>“Tell them we will exchange electric power for a supply of these +foods. Tell them we want samples of half a dozen of the natural +substances.”</p> + +<p>Again Mannion coded and sent, received and translated, sent again.</p> + +<p>“They agree, Captain,” he said at last. “They want us +to fire a power lead out about a mile; they’ll come in close and +shoot us a specimen case with a flare on it. Then we can each check the +other’s merchandise.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” I said. “We can use a ground-service +cable; rig a pilot light on it, and kick it out, as soon as they get in +close.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll have to splice a couple of extra lengths to +it,” Mannion said.</p> + +<p>“Go to it, Mannion,” I said. “And send two of your men +out to make the pick-up.” This wasn’t a communications job, +but I wanted a reliable man handling it.</p> + +<p>I returned to the bridge and keyed for Bourdon, directed him to arm two +of his penetration missiles, lock them onto the stranger, and switch +over to my control. With the firing key in my hand, I stood at the +televideo screen and watched for any signs of treachery. The ship moved +in, came to rest filling the screen.</p> + +<p>Mannion’s men reported out. I saw the red dot of our power lead +move away, then a yellow point glowed on the side of the vast +iodine-colored wall looming across the screen.</p> + +<p>Nothing else emerged from the alien ship. The red pilot drifted across +the face of the sphere. Mannion reported six <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +thousand feet of cable out before the pilot disappeared abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Captain,” Mannion reported, “they’re drawing +power.”</p> + +<p>“O.K.,” I said. “Let them have a sample, then shut +down.”</p> + +<p>I waited, watching carefully, until Mannion reported the cannister +inside.</p> + +<p>“Kramer,” I said. “Run me a fast check on the samples +in that container.”</p> + +<p>Kramer was recovering his swagger. “You’ll have to be a +little more specific,” he said. “Just what kind of analysis +do you have in mind? Do you want a full....”</p> + +<p>“I just want to know one thing, Kramer,” I said. “Can +we assimilate these substances, yes or no. If you don’t feel like +co-operating, I’ll have you lashed to your bunk, and injected with +them. You claim you’re a medical officer; let’s see you act +like one.” I turned my back to him.</p> + +<p>Mannion called. “They say the juice we fed them was +‘amusing,’ Captain. I guess that means it’s +O.K.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll let you know in a few minutes how their samples pan +out,” I said.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Kramer took half an hour before reporting back. “I ran a simple +check such as I normally use in a routine mess inspection,” he +began. He couldn’t help trying to take the center of the stage to +go into his Wise Doctor and Helpless Patient routine.</p> + +<p>“Yes or no,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, we can assimilate most of it,” he said angrily. +“There were six samples. Two were gelatinous substances, +non-nutritive. Three were vegetable-like, bulky and fibrous, one with a +high iodine content; the other was a very normal meaty specimen.”</p> + +<p>“Which should we take?” I said. “Remember your teeth +when you answer.”</p> + +<p>“The high protein, the meaty one,” he said. “Marked +‘6’.”</p> + +<p>I keyed for Mannion. “Tell them that in return for 1,000 KWH we +require 3,000 kilos of sample six,” I said.</p> + +<p>Mannion reported back. “They agreed in a hurry, Captain. They seem +to feel pretty good about the deal. They want to chat, now that +they’ve got a bargain. I’m still taping a long +tirade.”</p> + +<p>“Good,” I said. “Better get ready to send about six +men with an auxiliary pusher to bring home the bacon. You can start +feeding them the juice again.”</p> + +<p>I turned to Kramer. He was staring at the video image. “Report +yourself back to arrest in quarters, Kramer,” I said. +“I’ll take your services today into account at your +court-martial.”</p> + +<p>Kramer looked up, with a nasty grin. “I don’t know what kind +of talking oysters you’re trafficking with, but I’d laugh +like hell if they vaporized your precious tub as soon as they’re +through with you.” He walked out.</p> + +<p>Mannion called in again from ComSection. “Here’s their last, +Captain,” he said. “They say <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +we’re lucky they had a good supply of this protein aboard. +It’s one of their most amusing foods. It’s a creature they +discovered in the wild state and it’s very rare. The wild ones +have died out, and only their domesticated herds exist.”</p> + +<p>“O.K., we’re lucky,” I said. “It better be good +or we’ll step up the amperage and burn their batteries for +them.”</p> + +<p>“Here’s more,” Mannion said. “They say it will +take a few hours to prepare the cargo. They want us to be amused.”</p> + +<p>I didn’t like the delay, but it would take us about 10 hours to +deliver the juice to them at the trickle rate they wanted. Since the +sample was O.K., I was assuming the rest would be too. We settled down +to wait.</p> + +<p>I left Clay in charge on the bridge and made a tour of the ship. The +meeting with the alien had apparently driven the mood of mutiny into the +background. The men were quiet and busy. I went to my cabin and slept +for a few hours.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I was awakened by a call from Clay telling me that the alien had +released his cargo for us. Mannion’s crew was out making the +pick-up. Before they had maneuvered the bulky cylinder to the cargo +hatch, the alien released our power lead.</p> + +<p>I called Kramer and told him to meet the incoming crew and open and +inspect the cargo. If it was the same as the sample, I thought, we had +made a terrific trade. Discipline would recover if the men felt we still +had our luck.</p> + +<p>Then Mannion called again. “Captain,” he said excitedly, +“I think there may be trouble coming. Will you come down, +sir?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll go to the bridge, Mannion,” I said. “Keep +talking.”</p> + +<p>I tuned my speaker down low and listened to Mannion as I ran for the +lift.</p> + +<p>“They tell us to watch for a little display of Mancji power. They +ran out some kind of antenna. I’m getting a loud static at the top +of my short wave receptivity.”</p> + +<p>I ran the lift up and as I stepped onto the bridge I said, “Clay, +stand by to fire.”</p> + +<p>As soon as the pick-up crew was reported in, I keyed course corrections +to curve us off sharply from the alien. I didn’t know what he had, +but I liked the idea of putting space between us. My P-Missiles were +still armed and locked.</p> + +<p>Mannion called, “Captain, they say our fright is amusing, and +quite justified.”</p> + +<p>I watched the televideo screen for the first sign of an attack. Suddenly +the entire screen went white, then blanked. Miller, who had been at the +scanner searching over the alien ship at close range, reeled out of his +seat, clutching at his eyes. “My God, I’m blinded,” he +shouted.</p> + +<p>Mannion called, “Captain, my receivers blew. I think every tube in +the shack exploded!”</p> + +<p>I jumped to the direct viewer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +The alien hung there, turning away from us in a leisurely curve. There +was no sign of whatever had blown us off the air. I held my key, but +didn’t press it. I told Clay to take Miller down to Medic. He was +moaning and in severe pain.</p> + +<p>Kramer reported in from the cargo deck. The cannister was inside now, +coating up with frost. I told him to wait, then sent Chilcote, my +demolition man, in to open it. Maybe it was booby-trapped. I stood by at +the DVP and waited for other signs of Mancjo power to hit us. The +general feeling was tense.</p> + +<p>Apparently they were satisfied with one blast of whatever it was; they +were dwindling away with no further signs of life.</p> + +<p>After half an hour of tense alertness, I ordered the missiles disarmed.</p> + +<p>I keyed for General. “Men, this is the Captain,” I said. +“It looks as though our first contact with an alien race has been +successfully completed. He is now at a distance of three hundred and +moving off fast. Our screens are blown, but there’s no real +damage. And we have a supply of fresh food aboard; now let’s get +back to business. That colony can’t be far off.”</p> + +<p>That may have been rushing it some, but if the food supply we’d +gotten was a dud, we were finished anyway.</p> + +<p>We watched the direct-view screen till the ship was lost; then followed +on radar.</p> + +<p>“It’s moving right along, Captain,” Joyce said, +“accelerating at about two gee’s.”</p> + +<p>“Good riddance,” Clay said. “I don’t like +dealing with armed maniacs.”</p> + +<p>“They were screwballs all right,” I said, “but they +couldn’t have happened along at a better time. I only wish we had +been in a position to squeeze a few answers out of them.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” Clay said. “Now that the whole +thing’s over, I’m beginning to think of a lot of questions +myself.”</p> + +<p>The annunciator hummed. I heard what sounded like hoarse breathing. I +glanced at the indicator light. It was the cargo deck mike that was +open.</p> + +<p>I keyed. “If you have a report, Chilcote, go ahead,” I said.</p> + +<p>Suddenly someone was shouting into the mike, incoherently. I caught +words, cursing. Then Chilcote’s voice, “Captain,” he +said. “Captain, please come quick.” There was a loud +clatter, noise, then only the hum of the mike.</p> + +<p>“Take over, Clay,” I said, and started back to the cargo +deck at a dead run.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Men crowded the corridor, asking questions, milling. I forced my way +through, found Kramer surrounded by men, shouting.</p> + +<p>“Break this up,” I shouted. ”Kramer, what’s your +report?”</p> + +<p>Chilcote walked past me, pale as chalk. I pushed through to Kramer.</p> + +<p>“Get hold of yourself, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +make your report, Kramer,” I said. “What started this +riot?”</p> + +<p>Kramer stopped shouting, and stood looking at me, panting. The crowded +men fell silent.</p> + +<p>“I gave you a job to do, Major,” I said; “opening a +cargo can. Now you take it from there.”</p> + +<p>“Yeah, Captain,” he said. “We got it open. No wires, +no traps. We hauled the load out of the can on to the floor. It was one +big frozen mass, wrapped up in some kind of netting. Then we pulled the +covering off.”</p> + +<p>“All right, go ahead,” I said.</p> + +<p>“That load of fresh meat your star-born pals gave us consists of +about six families of human beings; men, women, and children.” +Kramer was talking for the crowd now, shouting. “Those last should +be pretty tender when you ration out our ounce a week, Captain.”</p> + +<p>The men milled, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, as I thrust through to the +cargo lock. The door stood ajar and wisps of white vapor curled out into +the passage.</p> + +<p>I stepped through the door. It was bitter cold in the lock. Near the +outer hatch the bulky cannister, rimed with white frost, lay in a pool +of melting ice. Before it lay the half shrouded bulk that it had +contained. I walked closer.</p> + +<p>They were frozen together into one solid mass. Kramer was right. They +were as human as I. Human corpses, stripped, packed together, frozen. I +pulled back the lightly frosted covering, and studied the glazed white +bodies.</p> + +<p>Kramer called suddenly from the door. “You found your colonists, +Captain. Now that your curiosity is satisfied, we can go back where we +belong. Out here man is a tame variety of cattle. We’re lucky they +didn’t know we were the same variety, or we’d be in their +food lockers now ourselves. Now let’s get started back. The men +won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”</p> + +<p>I leaned closer, studying the corpses. “Come here, Kramer,” +I called. “I want to show you something.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve seen all there is to see in there,” Kramer said. +“We don’t want to waste time; we want to change course now, +right away.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I walked back to the door, and as Kramer stepped back to let me precede +him out the door, I hit him in the mouth with all my strength. His head +snapped back against the frosted wall. Then he fell out into the +passage.</p> + +<p>I stepped over him. “Pick this up and put it in the brig,” I +said. The men in the corridor fell back, muttering. As they hauled +Kramer upright I stepped through them and kept going, not running but +wasting no time, toward the bridge. One wrong move on my part now and +all their misery and fear would break loose in a riot the first act of +which would be to tear me limb from limb.</p> + +<p>I travelled ahead of the shock. Kramer had provided the diversion +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +I had needed. Now I heard the sound of gathering violence growing +behind me.</p> + +<p>I was none too quick. A needler flashed at the end of the corridor just +as the lift door closed. I heard the tiny projectile <ins class='corr' +title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘richochet’.">ricochet</ins> off the lift shaft.</p> + +<p>I rode up, stepped onto the bridge and locked the lift. I keyed for +Bourdon, and to my relief got a quick response. The panic hadn’t +penetrated to Missile Section yet.</p> + +<p>“Bourdon, arm all batteries and lock onto that Mancji ship,” +I ordered. “On the triple.”</p> + +<p>I turned to Clay. “I’ll take over, Clay,” I said. +“Alter course to intercept our late companion at two and one-half +gee’s.”</p> + +<p>Clay looked startled, but said only, “Aye, sir.”</p> + +<p>I keyed for a general announcement. “This is the Captain,” I +said. “Action station, all hands in loose acceleration harness. +We’re going after Big Brother. You’re in action against the +enemy now, and from this point on I’m remembering. You men have +been having a big time letting off steam; that’s over now. All +sections report.”</p> + +<p>One by one the sections reported in, all but Med. and Admin. Well, I +could spare them for the present. The pressure was building now, as we +blasted around in a hairpin curve, our acceleration picking up fast.</p> + +<p>I ordered Joyce to lock his radar on <ins class='corr' +title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘taget’.">target</ins>, and switch over to autopilot control. Then +I called Power Section.</p> + +<p>“I’m taking over all power control from the bridge,” I +said. “All personnel out of the power chamber and control +chamber.”</p> + +<p>The men were still under control, but that might not last long. I had to +have the entire disposition of the ship’s power, control, and +armament under my personal direction for a few hours at least.</p> + +<p>Missile Section reported all missiles armed and locked on target. I +acknowledged and ordered the section evacuated. Then I turned to Clay +and Joyce. Both were plenty nervous now; they didn’t know what was +brewing.</p> + +<p>“Lieutenant Clay,” I said. “Report to your quarters; +Joyce, you too. I want to congratulate both of you on a soldierly +performance these last few hours.”</p> + +<p>They left without protest. I was aware that they didn’t want to be +too closely identified with the Captain when things broke loose.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I keyed for a video check of the interior of the lift as it started back +up. It was empty. I locked it up.</p> + +<p>Now we were steady on course, and had reached our full two and a half +gees. I could hardly stand under that acceleration, but I had one more +job to do before I could take a break.</p> + +<p>Feet dragging, I unlocked the lift and rode it down. I was braced for +violence as I opened the lift door, but I was lucky. There was no one in +the corridor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +I could hear shouts in the distance. I dragged myself along to Power +Section and pushed inside. A quick check of control settings showed +everything as I had ordered it. Back in the passage, I slammed the +leaded vault door to and threw in the combination lock. Now only I could +open it without blasting.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Control Section was next. It, too, was empty, all in order. I locked it, +and started across to Missiles. Two men appeared at the end of the +passage, having as hard a time as I was. I entered the cross corridor +just in time to escape a volley of needler shots. The mutiny was in the +open now, for sure.</p> + +<p>I kept going, hearing more shouting. I was sure the men I had seen were +heading for Power and Control. They’d get a surprise. I hoped I +could beat them to the draw at Missiles, too.</p> + +<p>As I came out in B corridor, twenty feet from Missiles, I saw that I had +cut it a bit fine. Three men, crawling, were frantically striving +against the multi-gee field to reach the door before me. Their faces +were running with sweat, purple with exertion.</p> + +<p>I had a slight lead; it was too late to make a check inside before +locking up. The best I could hope for was to lock the door before they +reached it.</p> + +<p>I drew my Browning and started for the door. They saw me and one reached +for his needler.</p> + +<p>“Don’t try it,” I called. I concentrated on the door, +reached it, swung it closed, and as I threw in the lock a needler +cracked. I whirled and fired. The man in the rear had stopped and aimed +as the other two came on. He folded. The other two kept coming.</p> + +<p>I was tired. I wanted a rest. “You’re too late,” I +said. “No one but the Captain goes in there now.” I stopped +talking, panting. I had to rest. The two came on. I wondered why they +struggled so desperately after they were beaten. My thinking was slowing +down.</p> + +<p>I suddenly realized they might be holding me for the crowd to arrive. I +shuffled backwards towards the cross corridor. I barely made it. Two men +on a shuttle cart whirled around the corner a hundred feet aft. I +lurched into my shelter in a hail of needler fire. One of the tiny slugs +stung through my calf and ricocheted down the passage.</p> + +<p>I called to the two I had raced; “Tell your boys if they ever want +to open that door, just see the Captain.”</p> + +<p>I hesitated, considering whether or not to make a general statement.</p> + +<p>“What the hell,” I decided. “They all know +there’s a mutiny now. It won’t hurt to get in a little +life-insurance.”</p> + +<p>I keyed my mike. “This is the Captain,” I said. “This +ship is now in a state of mutiny. I call on all loyal members of the +Armed Forces to resist the mutineers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +actively, and to support their Commander. Your ship is in action +against an armed enemy. I assure you this mutiny will fail, and those +who took part in it will be treated as traitors to their Service, their +homes, and their own families who now rely on them.</p> + +<p>“We are accelerating at two and one-half gravities, locked on a +collision course with the Mancji ship. The mutineers cannot enter the +Bridge, Power, Control, or Missiles Sections since only I have the +combination. Thus they’re doomed to failure.</p> + +<p>“I am now returning to the Bridge to direct the attack and +destruction of the enemy. If I fail to reach the Bridge, we will collide +with the enemy in less than three hours, and our batteries will +blow.”</p> + +<p>Now my problem was to make good my remark about returning to the Bridge. +The shuttle had not followed me, presumably fearing ambush. I took +advantage of their hesitation to cross back to corridor A at my best +speed. I paused once to send a hail of needles <ins class='corr' +title="Transcriber’s Note: The original showed +‘ricocheted’.">ricocheting</ins> down the corridor behind me, and +I heard a yelp from around the corner. Those needles had a fantastic +velocity, and bounced around a long time before stopping.</p> + +<p>At the corridor, I lay down on the floor for a rest and risked a quick +look. A group of three men were bunched around the Control Section door, +packing smashite in the hairline crack around it. That wouldn’t do +them any good, but it did occupy their attention.</p> + +<p>I faded back into the cross passage, and keyed the mike. I had to give +them a chance.</p> + +<p>“This is the Captain,” I said. “All personnel not at +their action stations are warned for the last time to report there +immediately. Any man found away from his post from this point on is in +open mutiny and can expect the death penalty. This is the last +warning.”</p> + +<p>The men in the corridor had heard, but a glance showed they paid no +attention to what they considered an idle threat. They didn’t know +how near I was.</p> + +<p>I drew my needler, set it for continuous fire, pushed into the corridor, +aimed, and fired. I shot to kill. All three sprawled away from the door, +riddled, as the metal walls rang with the cloud of needles.</p> + +<p>I looked both ways, then rose, with effort, and went to the bodies. I +recognized them as members of Kirschenbaum’s Power Section crew. I +keyed again as I moved on toward the lift at the end of the corridor, +glancing back as I went.</p> + +<p>“Corley, Mac Williams, and Reardon have been shot for mutiny in +the face of the enemy,” I said. “Let’s hope +they’re the last to insist on my enforcing the death +penalty.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Behind me, at the far end of the corridor, men appeared +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +again. I flattened myself in a doorway, sprayed needles toward them, +and hoped for the best. I heard the singing of a swarm past me, but felt +no hits. The mutineers offered a bigger target, and I thought I saw +someone fall. As they all moved back out of sight, I made another break +for the lift.</p> + +<p>I was grateful they hadn’t had time to organize. I kept an eye to +the rear, and sent a hail of needles back every time a man showed +himself. They ducked out to fire every few seconds, but not very +effectively. I had an advantage over them; I was fighting for the +success of the mission and for my life, with no one to look to for help; +they were each one of a mob, none eager to be a target, each willing to +let the other man take the risk.</p> + +<p>I was getting pretty tired. I was grateful for the extra stamina and +wind that daily calisthenics in a high-gee field had given me; without +that I would have collapsed before now; but I was almost ready to drop. +I had my eyes fixed on the lift door; each step, inch by inch, was an +almost unbearable effort. With only a few feet to go, my knees gave; I +went down on all fours. Another batch of needles sang around me, and +vivid pain seared my left arm. It helped. The pain cleared my head, +spurred me. I rose and stumbled against the door.</p> + +<p>Now the combination. I fought a numbing desire to faint as I pressed the +lock control; three, five, two, five ...</p> + +<p>I twisted around as I heard a sound. The shuttle was coming toward me, +men lying flat on it, protected by the bumper plate. I leaned against +the lift door, and loosed a stream of needles against the side of the +corridor, banking them toward the shuttle. Two men rolled off the +shuttle in a spatter of blood. Another screamed, and a hand waved above +the bumper. I needled it.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I wondered how many were on the shuttle. It kept coming. The closer it +came, the more effective my bank shots were. I wondered why it failed to +return my fire. Then a hand rose in an arc and a choke bomb dropped in a +short curve to the floor. It rolled to my feet, just starting to spew. I +kicked it back. The shuttle stopped, backed away from the bomb. A jet of +brown gas was playing from it now. I aimed my needler, and sent it +spinning back farther. Then I turned to my lock.</p> + +<p>Now a clank of metal against metal sounded behind me; from the side +passage a figure in radiation armor moved out. The suit was self-powered +and needle proof. I sent a concentrated blast at the head, as the figure +awkwardly tottered toward me, ungainly in the multi-gee field. The +needles hit, snapped the head back. The suited figure hesitated, arms +spread, stepped back and fell with a thunderous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +crash. I had managed to knock him off balance, maybe stun him.</p> + +<p>I struggled to remember where I was in the code sequence; I went on, +keyed the rest. I pushed; nothing. I must have lost count. I started +again.</p> + +<p>I heard the armored man coming on again. The needler trick +wouldn’t work twice. I kept working. I had almost completed the +sequence when I felt the powered grip of the suited man on my arm. I +twisted, jammed the needler against his hand, and fired. The arm flew +back, and even through the suit I heard his wrist snap. My own hand was +numb from the recoil. The other arm of the suit swept down and struck my +wounded arm. I staggered away from the door, dazed with the pain.</p> + +<p>I side-stepped in time to miss another ponderous blow. Under two and a +half gees, the man in the suit was having a hard time, even with power +assisted controls. I felt that I was fighting a machine instead of a +man.</p> + +<p>As he stepped toward me again, I aimed at his foot. A concentrated +stream of needles hit, like a metallic fire hose, knocked the foot +aside, toppled the man again. I staggered back to my door.</p> + +<p>But now I realized I couldn’t risk opening it; even if I got in, I +couldn’t keep my suited assailant from crowding in with me. +Already he was up, lurching toward me. I had to draw him away from the +door.</p> + +<p>The shuttle sat unmoving. The mob kept its distance. I wondered why no +one was shooting; I guessed they had realized that if I were killed +there would be no way to enter the vital control areas of the ship; they +had to take me alive.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I made it past the clumsy armored man and started down the corridor +toward the shuttle. I moved as slowly as I could while still eluding +him. He lumbered after me. I reached the shuttle; a glance showed no one +alive there. Two men lay across it. I pulled myself onto it and threw in +the forward lever. The shuttle rolled smoothly past the armored man, +striking him a glancing blow that sent him down again. Those falls, in +the multi-gee field, were bone crushing. He didn’t get up.</p> + +<p>I reached the door again, rolled off the shuttle, and reached for the +combination. I wished now I’d used a shorter one. I started again; +heard a noise behind me. As I turned, a heavy weight crushed me against +the door.</p> + +<p>I was held rigid, my chest against the combination key. The pressure was +cracking my ribs and still it increased. I twisted my head, gasping. The +shuttle held me pinned to the door. The man I had assumed out of action +was alive enough to hold the lever down with savage strength. I tried to +shout, to remind him that without me to open the doors, they were +powerless to save the ship. I couldn’t <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +speak. I tasted blood in my mouth, and tried to breathe. I +couldn’t. I passed out.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_2" id="CHAPTER_2"></a>CHAPTER 2</h2> + +<p>I emerged into consciousness to find the pressure gone, but a red haze +of pain remained. I lay on my back and saw men sitting on the floor +around me.</p> + +<p>A blow from somewhere made my head ring. I tried to sit up. I +couldn’t make it. Then Kramer was beside me, slipping a needle +into my arm. He looked pretty bad himself. His face was bandaged +heavily, and one eye was purple. He spoke in a muffled voice through +stiff jaws. His tone was deliberate.</p> + +<p>“This will keep you conscious enough to answer a few +questions,” he said. “Now you’re going to give me the +combinations to the locks so we can call off this suicide run; then +maybe I’ll doctor you up.”</p> + +<p>I didn’t answer.</p> + +<p>“The time for clamming up is over, you stupid braggard,” +Kramer said. He raised his fist and drove a hard punch into my chest. I +guess it was his shot that kept me conscious. I couldn’t breathe +for a while, until Kramer gave me a few whiffs of oxygen. I wondered if +he was fool enough to think I might give up my ship.</p> + +<p>After a while my head cleared a little. I tried to say something. I got +out a couple of croaks, and then found my voice.</p> + +<p>“Kramer,” I said.</p> + +<p>He leaned over me. “I’m listening,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Take me to the lift. Leave me there alone. That’s your only +chance.” It seemed to me like a long speech, but nothing happened. +Kramer went away, came back. He showed me a large scalpel from his +medical kit. “I’m going to start operating on your face. +I’ll make you into a museum freak. Maybe if you start talking soon +enough I’ll change my mind.”</p> + +<p>I could see the watch on his wrist. My mind worked very slowly. I had +trouble getting any air into my lungs. We would intercept in one hour +and ten minutes.</p> + +<p>It seemed simple to me. I had to get back to the Bridge before we hit. I +tried again. “We only have an hour,” I said.</p> + +<p>Kramer lost control. He jabbed the knife at my face, screeching through +gritted teeth. I jerked my head aside far enough that the scalpel grated +along my cheekbone instead of slashing my mouth. I hardly felt it.</p> + +<p>“We’re not dying because you were a fool,” Kramer +yelled. “I’ve taken over; I’ve relieved you as unfit +for command. Now open up this ship or I’ll slice you to +ribbons.” He held the scalpel under my nose in a fist trembling +with fury. The chrome plated blade had a thin film of pink on it.</p> + +<p>I got my voice going again. “I’m going to destroy the Mancji +ship,” I said. “Take me to the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +lift and leave me there.” I tried to add a few words, but had to +stop and work on breathing again for a while. Kramer disappeared.</p> + +<p>I realized I was not fully in command of my senses. I was clamped in a +padded claw. I wanted to roll over. I tried hard, and made it. I could +hear Kramer talking, others answering, but it seemed too great an effort +to listen to the words.</p> + +<p>I was lying on my face now, head almost against the wall. There was a +black line in front of me, a door. My head cleared a bit. It must have +been Kramer’s shot working on me. I turned my head and saw Kramer +standing now with half a dozen others, all talking at once. Apparently +Kramer’s display of uncontrolled temper had the others worried. +They wanted me alive. Kramer didn’t like anyone criticizing him. +The argument was pretty violent. There was scuffling—and shouts.</p> + +<p>I saw that I lay about twenty feet from the lift; too far. The door +before me, if I remembered the ship’s layout, was a utility room, +small and containing nothing but a waste disposal hopper. But it did +have a bolt on the inside, like every other room on the ship.</p> + +<p>I didn’t stop to think about it; I started trying to get up. If +I’d thought I would have known that at the first move from me all +seven of them would land on me at once. I concentrated on getting my +hands under me, to push up. I heard a shout, and turning my head, saw +Kramer swinging at someone. I went on with my project.</p> + +<p>Hands under my chest, I raised myself a little, and got a knee up. I +felt broken rib ends grating, but felt no pain, just the padded claw. +Then I was weaving on all fours. I looked up, spotted the latch on the +door, and put everything I had into lunging at it. My finger hit it, the +door swung in, and I fell on my face; but I was half in. Another lunge +and I was past the door, kicking it shut as I lay on the floor, reaching +for the lock control. Just as I flipped it with an extended finger, +someone hit the door from outside, a second too late.</p> + +<p>It was dark, and I lay on my back on the floor, and felt strange +short-circuited stabs of what would have been agonizing pain running +through my chest and arm. I had a few minutes to rest now, before they +blasted the door open.</p> + +<p>I hated to lose like this, not because we were beaten, but because we +were giving up. My poor world, no longer fair and green, had found the +strength to send us out as her last hope. But somewhere out here in the +loneliness and distance we had lost our courage. Success was at our +fingertips, if we could have found it; instead, in panic and madness, we +were destroying ourselves.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>My mind wandered; I imagined <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +myself on the Bridge, half-believed I was there. I was resting on the +OD bunk, and Clay was standing beside me. A long time seemed to pass.... +Then I remembered I was on the floor, bleeding internally, in a tiny +room that would soon lose its door. But there was someone standing +beside me.</p> + +<p>I didn’t feel too disappointed at being beaten; I hadn’t +hoped for much more than a breather, anyway. I wondered why this fellow +had abandoned his action station to hide there. The door was still shut. +He must have been there all along, but I hadn’t seen him when I +came in. He stood over me, wearing greasy overalls, and grinned down at +me. He raised his hand. I was getting pretty indifferent to blows; I +couldn’t feel them.</p> + +<p>The hand went up, the man straightened and held a fairly snappy salute. +“Sir,” he said. “Space’n first class +Thomas.”</p> + +<p>I didn’t feel like laughing or cheering or anything else; I just +took it as it came.</p> + +<p>“At ease, Thomas,” I managed to say. “Why aren’t +you at your duty station?” I went spinning off somewhere after +that oration.</p> + +<p>Thomas was squatting beside me now. “Cap’n, you’re +hurt, ain’t you? I was wonderin’ why you was down here layin +down in my ’Sposal station.”</p> + +<p>“A scratch,” I said. I thought about it for a while. Thomas +was doing something about my chest. This was Thomas’ disposal +station. Thomas owned it. I wondered if a fellow could make a living +with such a small place way out here, with just an occasional tourist +coming by. I wondered why I didn’t send one of them for help; I +needed help for some reason....</p> + +<p>“Cap’n, I been overhaulin’ my converter units, I jist +come in. How long you been in here, Cap’n?” Thomas was +worried about something.</p> + +<p>I tried hard to think. I hadn’t been here very long; just a few +minutes. I had come here to rest.... Then suddenly I was thinking +clearly again.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Whatever Thomas was, he was apparently on my side, or at least neutral. +He didn’t seem to be aware of the mutiny. I realized that he had +bound my chest tightly with strips of shirt; it felt better.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing in here, Thomas?” I asked. +“Don’t you know we’re in action against a hostile +ship?”</p> + +<p>Thomas looked surprised. “This here’s my action station, +Cap’n,” he said. “I’m a Waste Recovery +Technician, First Class, I keep the recovery system +operatin’.”</p> + +<p>“You just stay in here?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” Thomas said. “I check through the whole +system. We got three main disposal points and lots a little ones, +an’ I have to keep everything operatin’. Otherwise this ship +would be in a bad way, Cap’n.”</p> + +<p>“How did you get in here?” I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +asked. I looked around the small room. There was only one door, and the +gray bulk of the converter unit which broke down wastes into their +component elements for re-use nearly filled the tiny space.</p> + +<p>“I come in through the duct, Cap’n,” Thomas said. +“I check the ducts every day. You know, Cap’n,” he +said shaking his head, “they’s some bad laid-out +ductin’ in this here system. If I didn’t keep after it, +you’d be gettin’ clogged ducts all the time. So I jist go +through the system and keep her clear.”</p> + +<p>From somewhere, hope began again. “Where do these ducts +lead?” I asked. I wondered how the man could ignore the mutiny +going on around him.</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, one leads to the mess; that’s the big one. One +leads to the wardroom, and the other one leads up to the Bridge.”</p> + +<p>My God, I thought, the Bridge.</p> + +<p>“How big are they?” I asked. “Could I get through +them?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, sure, Cap’n,” Thomas said. “You can get +through ’em easy. But are you sure you feel like inspectin’ +with them busted ribs?”</p> + +<p>I was beginning to realize that Thomas was not precisely a genius. +“I can make it,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Cap’n,” Thomas said diffidently, “it +ain’t none a my business, but don’t you think maybe I better +get the doctor for ya?”</p> + +<p>“Thomas,” I said, “maybe you don’t know; +there’s a mutiny under way aboard this ship. The doctor is leading +it. I want to get to the Bridge in the worst way. Let’s get +started.”</p> + +<p>Thomas looked very shocked. “Cap’n, you mean you was hurt by +somebody? I mean you didn’t have a fall or nothin’, you was +beat up?” He stared at me with an expression of incredulous +horror.</p> + +<p>“That’s about the size of it,” I said. I managed to +sit up. Thomas jumped forward and helped me to my feet. Then I saw that +he was crying.</p> + +<p>“You can count on me, Cap’n,” he said. “Jist +lemme know who done it, an’ I’ll feed ’em into my +converter.”</p> + +<p>I stood leaning against the wall, waiting for my head to stop spinning. +Breathing was difficult, but if I kept it shallow, I could manage. +Thomas was opening a panel on the side of the converter unit.</p> + +<p>“It’s O.K. to go in Cap’n,” he said. “She +ain’t operatin’.”</p> + +<p>The pull of the two and a half gees seemed to bother him very little. I +could barely stand under it, holding on. Thomas saw my wavering step and +jumped to help me. He boosted me into the chamber of the converter and +pointed out an opening near the top, about twelve by twenty-four inches.</p> + +<p>“That there one is to the Bridge, Cap’n,” he said. +“If you’ll start in there, sir, I’ll follow up.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I thrust head and shoulders <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +into the opening. Inside it was smooth metal, with no handholds. I +clawed at it trying to get farther in. The pain stabbed at my chest.</p> + +<p>“Cap’n, they’re workin’ on the door,” +Thomas said. “They already been at it for a little while. We +better get goin’.”</p> + +<p>“You’d better give me a push, Thomas,” I said. My +voice echoed hollowly down the duct.</p> + +<p>Thomas crowded into the chamber behind me then, lifting my legs and +pushing. I eased into the duct. The pain was not so bad now.</p> + +<p>“Cap’n, you gotta use a special kinda crawl to get through +these here ducts,” Thomas said. “You grip your hands +together out in front of ya, and then bend your elbows. When your elbows +jam against the side of the duct, you pull forward.”</p> + +<p>I tried it; it was slow, but it worked.</p> + +<p>“Cap’n,” Thomas said behind me. “We got about +seven minutes now to get up there. I set the control on the converter to +start up in ten minutes. I think we can make it O.K., and ain’t +nobody else comin’ this way with the converter goin’. I +locked the control panel so they can’t shut her down.”</p> + +<p>That news spurred me on. With the converter in operation, the first step +in the cycle was the evacuation of the ducts to a near-perfect vacuum. +When that happened, we would die instantly with ruptured lungs; then our +dead bodies would be sucked into the chamber and broken down into useful +raw materials. I hurried.</p> + +<p>I tried to orient myself. The duct paralleled the corridor. It would +continue in that direction for about fifteen feet, and would then turn +upward, since the Bridge was some fifteen feet above this level. I +hitched along, and felt the duct begin to trend upward.</p> + +<p>“You’ll have to get on your back here, Cap’n,” +Thomas said. “She widens out on the turn.”</p> + +<p>I managed to twist over. Thomas was helping me by pushing at my feet. As +I reached a near-vertical position, I felt a metal rod under my hand. +That was a relief; I had been expecting to have to go up the last +stretch the way a mountain climber does a rock chimney, back against one +wall and feet against the other.</p> + +<p>I hauled at the rod, and found another with my other hand. Below, Thomas +boosted me. I groped up and got another, then another. The remaining +slight slant of the duct helped. Finally my feet were on the rods. I +clung, panting. The heat in the duct was terrific. Then I went on up. +That was some shot Kramer had given me.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Above I could see the end of the duct faintly in the light coming up +through the open chamber door from the utility room. I remembered the +location of the disposal slot on the Bridge now; it had been installed +in the small <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +apartment containing a bunk and a tiny galley for the use of the Duty +Officer during long watches on the Bridge.</p> + +<p>I reached the top of the duct and pushed against the slot cover. It +swung out easily. I could see the end of the chart table, and beyond, +the dead radar screen. I reached through and heaved myself partly out. I +nearly fainted at the stab from my ribs as my weight went on my chest. +My head sang. The light from below suddenly went out. I heard a muffled +clank; then a hum began, echoing up the duct.</p> + +<p>“She’s closed and started cyclin’ the air out, +Cap’n,” Thomas said calmly. “We got about half a +minute.”</p> + +<p>I clamped my teeth together and heaved again. Below me Thomas waited +quietly. He couldn’t help me now. I got my hands flat against the +bulkhead and thrust. The air was whistling around my face. Papers began +to swirl off the chart table. I twisted my body frantically, kicking +loose from the grip of the slot, fighting the sucking pull of air. I +fell to the floor inside the room, the slot cover slamming behind me. I +staggered to my feet. I pried at the cover, but I couldn’t open it +against the vacuum. Then it budged, and Thomas’ hand came through. +The metal edge cut into it, blood started, but the cover was held open +half an inch. I reached the chart table, almost falling over my leaden +feet, seized a short permal T-square, and levered the cover up. Once +started, it went up easily. Thomas face appeared, drawn and pale, eyes +closed against the dust being whirled into his face. He got his arms +through, heaved himself a little higher. I seized his arm and pulled. He +scrambled through.</p> + +<p>I knocked the T-square out of the way and the cover snapped down. Then I +slid to the floor, not exactly out, but needing a break pretty bad. +Thomas brought bedding from the OD bunk and made me comfortable on the +floor.</p> + +<p>“Thomas,” I said, “when I think of what the security +inspectors who approved the plans for this arrangement are going to say +when I call this little back door to their attention, it almost makes it +worth the trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” Thomas said. He sprawled on the deck and looked +around the Bridge, staring at the unfamiliar screens, indicator dials, +controls.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>From where I lay, I could see the direct vision screen. I wasn’t +sure, but I thought the small bright object in the center of it might be +our target. Thomas looked at the dead radar screen, then said, +“Cap’n, that there radarscope out of action?”</p> + +<p>“It sure is, Thomas,” I said. “Our unknown friends +blew the works before they left us.” I was surprised that he +recognized a radarscope.</p> + +<p>“Mind if I take a look at it, Cap’n?” he said.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +“Go ahead,” I replied. I tried to explain the situation to +Thomas. The elapsed time since we had started our pursuit was two hours +and ten minutes; I wanted to close to no more than a twenty mile gap +before launching my missiles; and I had better alert my interceptor +missiles in case the Mancji hit first.</p> + +<p>Thomas had the cover off the radar panel and was probing around. He +pulled a blackened card out of the interior of the panel.</p> + +<p>“Looks like they overloaded the fuse,” Thomas said. +“Got any spares, Cap’n?”</p> + +<p>“Right beside you in the cabinet,” I said. “How do you +know your way around a radar set, Thomas?”</p> + +<p>Thomas grinned. “I useta be a radar technician third before I got +inta waste disposal,” he said. “I had to change specialities +to sign on for this cruise.”</p> + +<p>I had an idea there’d be an opening for Thomas a little higher up +when this was over.</p> + +<p>I asked him to take a look at the televideo, too. I was beginning to +realize that Thomas was not really simple; he was merely uncomplicated.</p> + +<p>“Tubes blowed here, Cap’n,” he reported. “Like +as if you was to set her up to high mag right near a sun; she was +overloaded. I can fix her easy if we got the spares.”</p> + +<p>I didn’t take time to try to figure that one out. I could feel the +dizziness coming on again.</p> + +<p>“Thomas,” I called, “let me know when we’re at +twenty miles from target.” I wanted to tell him more, but I could +feel consciousness draining away. “Then ...” I managed, +“first aid kit ... shot....”</p> + +<p>I could still hear Thomas. I was flying away, whirling, but I could hear +his voice. “Cap’n, I could fire your missiles now, if you +was to want me to,” he was saying. I struggled to speak. +“No. Wait.” I hoped he heard me.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I floated a long time in a strange state between coma and consciousness. +The stuff Kramer had given me was potent. It kept my mind fairly clear +even when my senses were out of action. I thought about the situation +aboard my ship.</p> + +<p>I wondered what Kramer and his men were planning now, how they felt +about having let me slip through their fingers. The only thing they +could try now was blasting their way into the Bridge. They’d never +make it. The designers of these ships were not unaware of the hazards of +space life; the Bridge was an unassailable fortress. They couldn’t +possibly get to it.</p> + +<p>I guessed that Kramer was having a pretty rough time of it now. He had +convinced the men that we were rushing headlong to sure destruction at +the hands of the all-powerful Mancji, and that their Captain was a fool. +Now he was trapped with them in the panic he had helped to create. I +thought that in all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +probability they had torn him apart.</p> + +<p>I wavered in and out of consciousness. It was just as well; I needed the +rest. Then I heard Thomas calling me. “We’re closin’ +now, Cap’n,” he said. “Wake up, Cap’n, only +twenty-three miles now.”</p> + +<p>“Okay,” I said. My body had been preparing itself for this, +now it was ready again. I felt the needle in my arm. That helped, too.</p> + +<p>“Hand me the intercom, Thomas,” I said. He placed the mike +in my hand. I keyed for a general announcement.</p> + +<p>“This is the Captain,” I said. I tried to keep my voice as +steady as possible. “We are now at a distance of twenty-one miles +from the enemy. Stand by for missile launching and possible evasive +action. Damage control crews on the alert.” I paused for breath.</p> + +<p>“Now we’re going to take out the Mancji ship, men,” I +said. “All two miles of it.”</p> + +<p>I dropped the mike and groped for the firing key. Thomas handed it to +me.</p> + +<p>“Cap’n,” he said, bending over me. “I notice you +got the selector set for your chemical warheads. You wouldn’t want +me to set up pluto heads for ya, would ya, Cap’n?”</p> + +<p>“No, thanks, Thomas,” I said. “Chemical is what I +want. Stand by to observe.” I pressed the firing key.</p> + +<p>Thomas was at the radarscope. “Missiles away, Cap’n. +Trackin’ O.K. Looks like they’ll take out the left half a +that dumbbell.”</p> + +<p>I found the mike again. “Missiles homing on target,” I said. +“Strike in thirty-five seconds. You’ll be interested to know +we’re employing chemical warheads. So far there is no sign of +offense or defense from the enemy.” I figured the news would shock +a few mutineers. David wasn’t even using his slingshot on Goliath. +He was going after him bare-handed. I wanted to scare some kind of +response out of them. I needed a few clues as to what was going on +below.</p> + +<p>I got it. Joyce’s voice came from the wall annunciator. +“Captain, this is Lt. Joyce reporting.” He sounded scared +all the way through, and desperate. “Sir, the mutiny has been +successfully suppressed by the loyal members of the crew. Major Kramer +is under arrest. We’re prepared to go on with the search for the +Omega Colony. But Sir ...” he paused, gulping. “We ask you +to change course now before launching any effective attack. We still +have a chance. Maybe they won’t bother with us when those +firecrackers go off ...”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>I watched the direct vision screen. Zero second closed in. And on the +screen the face of the left hand disk of the Mancji ship was lit +momentarily by a brilliant spark of yellow, then another. A +discoloration showed dimly against the dark metallic surface. It spread, +and a faint vapor formed over it. Now tiny <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +specs could be seen moving away from the ship. The disk elongated, with +infinite leisure, widening.</p> + +<p>“What’s happenin’? Cap’n?” Thomas asked. +He was staring at the scope in fascination. “They launchin’ +scouts, or what?”</p> + +<p>“Take a look here, Thomas,” I said. “The ship is +breaking up.”</p> + +<p>The disk was an impossibly long ellipse now, surrounded by a vast array +of smaller bodies, fragments and contents of the ship. Now the stricken +globe moved completely free of its companion. It rotated, presenting a +crescent toward us, then wheeled farther as it receded from its twin, +showing its elongation. The sphere had split wide open. Now the +shattered half itself separated into two halves, and these in turn +crumbled, strewing debris in a widening spiral.</p> + +<p>“My God, Cap’n,” Thomas said in awe. +“That’s the greatest display I ever seen. And all it took to +set her off was 200 kilos a PBL. Now that’s +somethin’.”</p> + +<p>I keyed the mike again. “This is the Captain,” I said. +“I want ten four-man patrols ready to go out in fifteen minutes. +The enemy ship has been put out of action and is now in a derelict +condition. I want only one thing from her; one live prisoner. All +Section chiefs report to me on the Bridge on the triple.”</p> + +<p>“Thomas,” I said, “go down in the lift and open up for +the Chiefs. Here’s the release key for the combination; you know +how to operate it?”</p> + +<p>“Sure, Cap’n; but are you sure you want to let them boys in +here after the way they jumped you an’ all?”</p> + +<p>I opened my mouth to answer, but he beat me to it. “Fergit I asked +ya that, Cap’n, pleasir. You ain’t been wrong yet.”</p> + +<p>“It’s O.K., Thomas,” I said. “There won’t +be any more trouble.”</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>EPILOGUE</h2> + +<p>On the eve of the twentieth <ins class='corr' title="Transcriber’s +Note: The original showed ‘anniversay’.">anniversary</ins> of +Reunion Day, a throng of well-heeled celebrants filled the dining room +and overflowed onto the terraces of the Star Tower Dining Room, from +whose 5,700 foot height above the beaches, the Florida Keys, a hundred +miles to the south, were visible on clear days.</p> + +<p>The <i>Era</i> reporter stood beside the vast glass entry way surveying the +crowd, searching for celebrities from whom he might elicit bits of color +to spice the day’s transmission.</p> + +<p>At the far side of the room, surrounded by chattering admirers, stood +the Ambassador from the New Terran Federation; a portly, graying, jolly +ex-Naval officer. A minor actress passed at close range, looking the +other way. A cabinet member stood at the bar talking earnestly to a ball +player, ignoring a group of hopeful reporters and fans.</p> + +<p>The <i>Era</i> stringer, an experienced <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +hand, passed over the hard pressed VIP’s near the center of the +room and started a face-by-face check of the less gregarious diners +seated at obscure tables along the sides of the room.</p> + +<p>He was in luck; the straight-backed gray-haired figure in the dark +civilian suit, sitting alone at a tiny table in an alcove, caught his +eye. He moved closer, straining for a clear glimpse through the crowd. +Then he was sure. He had the biggest possible catch of the day in his +sights; Admiral of Fleets Frederick Greylorn.</p> + +<p>The reporter hesitated; he was well aware of the Admiral’s +reputation for near-absolute silence on the subject of his already +legendary cruise, the fabulous voyage of the <i>Galahad</i>. He +couldn’t just barge in on the Admiral and demand answers, as was +usual with publicity-hungry politicians and show people. He could score +the biggest story of the century today; but he had to hit him right.</p> + +<p>You couldn’t hope to snow a man like the Admiral; he wasn’t +somebody you could push around. You could sense the solid iron of him +from here.</p> + +<p>Nobody else had noticed the solitary diner. The <i>Era</i> man drifted +closer, moving unhurriedly, thinking furiously. It was no good trying +some tricky approach; his best bet was the straight-from-the-shoulder +bit. No point in hesitating. He stopped beside the table.</p> + +<p>The Admiral was looking out across the Gulf. He turned and glanced up at +the reporter.</p> + +<p>The news man looked him squarely in the eye. “I’m a +reporter, Admiral,” he said. “Will you talk to me?”</p> + +<p>The Admiral nodded to the seat across from him. “Sit down,” +he said. He glanced around the room.</p> + +<p>The reporter caught the look. “I’ll keep it light, +sir,” he said. “I don’t want company either.” +That was being frank.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>“You want the answers to some questions, don’t you?” +the Admiral said.</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, sir,” the reporter said. He started to +inconspicuously key his pocket recorder, but caught himself. “May +I record your remarks, Admiral?” he said. Frankness all the way.</p> + +<p>“Go ahead,” said the Admiral.</p> + +<p>“Now, Admiral,” the reporter began, “the Terran public +has of course ...”</p> + +<p>“Never mind the patter, son,” the Admiral said mildly. +“I know what the questions are. I’ve read all the memoirs of +the crew. They’ve been coming out at the rate of about two a year +for some time now. I had my own reasons for not wanting to add anything +to my official statement.”</p> + +<p>The Admiral poured wine into his glass. “Excuse me,” he +said. “Will you join me?” He signalled the waiter.</p> + +<p>“Another wine glass, please,” he said. He looked at the +golden <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +wine in the glass, held it up to the light. “You know, the +Florida wines are as good as any in the world,” he said. +“That’s not to say the California and Ohio wines +aren’t good. But this Flora Pinellas is a genuine original, not an +imitation Rhine; and it compares favorably with the best of the old +vintages, particularly the ’87.”</p> + +<p>The glass arrived and the waiter poured. The reporter had the wit to +remain silent.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>“The first question is usually, how did I know I could take the +Mancji ship. After all, it was big, vast. It loomed over us like a +mountain. The Mancji themselves weighed almost two tons each; they liked +six gee gravity. They blasted our communication off the air, just for +practice. They talked big, too. We were invaders in their territory. +They were amused by us. So where did I get the notion that our attack +would be anything more than a joke to them? That’s the big +question.” The Admiral shook his head.</p> + +<p>“The answer is quite simple. In the first place, they were pulling +six gees by using a primitive dumbbell configuration. The only reason +for that type of layout, as students of early space vessel design can +tell you, is to simplify setting up a gee field effect using centrifugal +force. So they obviously had no gravity field generators.</p> + +<p>“Then their transmission was crude. All they had was simple +old-fashioned short-range radio, and even that was noisy and erratic. +And their reception was as bad. We had to use a kilowatt before they +could pick it up at 200 miles. We didn’t know then it was all +organically generated; that they had no equipment.”</p> + +<p>The Admiral sipped his wine, frowning at the recollection. “I was +pretty sure they were bluffing when I changed course and started after +them. I had to hold our acceleration down to two and a half gees because +I had to be able to move around the ship. And at that acceleration we +gained on them. They couldn’t beat us. And it wasn’t because +they couldn’t take high gees; they liked six for comfort, you +remember. No, they just didn’t have the power.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>The Admiral looked out the window.</p> + +<p>“Add to that the fact that they apparently couldn’t generate +ordinary electric current. I admit that none of this was conclusive, but +after all, if I was wrong we were sunk anyway. When Thomas told me the +nature of the damage to our radar and communications systems, that was +another hint. Their big display of Mancji power was just a blast of +radiation right across the communication spectrum; it burned tubes and +blew fuses; nothing else. We were back in operation an hour after our +attack.</p> + +<p>“The evidence was there to see, but there’s something about +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +giant size that gets people rattled. Size alone doesn’t mean a +thing. It’s rather like the bluff the Soviets ran on the rest of +the world for a couple of decades back in the war era, just because they +sprawled across half the globe. They were a giant, though it was mostly +frozen desert. When the showdown came they didn’t have it. They +were a pushover.</p> + +<p>“All right, the next question is why did I choose H. E. instead of +going in with everything I had? That’s easy, too. What I wanted +was information, not revenge. I still had the heavy stuff in reserve and +ready to go if I needed it, but first I had to try to take them alive. +Vaporizing them wouldn’t have helped our position. And I was +lucky; it worked.</p> + +<p>“The, ah, confusion below evaporated as soon as the Section chiefs +got a look at the screens and realized that we had actually knocked out +the Mancji. We matched speeds with the wreckage and the patrols went out +to look for a piece of ship with a survivor in it. If we’d had no +luck we would have tackled the other half of the ship, which was still +intact and moving off fast. But we got quite a shock when we found the +nature of the wreckage.” The Admiral grinned.</p> + +<p>“Of course today everybody knows all about the Mancji hive +intelligence, and their evolutionary history. But we were pretty +startled to find that the only wreckage consisted of the Mancji +themselves, each two-ton slug in his own hard chitin shell. Of course, a +lot of the cells were ruptured by the explosions, but most of them had +simply disassociated from the hive mass as it broke up. So there was no +ship; just a cluster of cells like a giant bee hive, and mixed up among +the slugs, the damnedest collection of loot you can imagine. The odds +and ends they’d stolen and tucked away in the hive during a couple +hundred years of camp-following.</p> + +<p>“The patrols brought a couple of cells alongside, and Mannion went +out to try to establish contact. Sure enough, he got a very faint +transmission, on the same bands as before. The cells were talking to +each other in their own language. They ignored Mannion even though his +transmission must have blanketed everything within several hundred +miles. We eventually brought one of them into the cargo lock and started +trying different wave-lengths on it. Then Kramer had the idea of +planting a couple of electrodes and shooting a little juice to it. Of +course, it loved the DC, but as soon as we tried AC, it gave up. So we +had a long talk with it and found out everything we needed to know.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>“It was a four-week run to the nearest outpost planet of the New +Terran Federation, and they took me on to New Terra aboard one of their +fast liaison <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +vessels. The rest you know. We, the home planet, were as lost to the +New Terrans as they were to us. They greeted us as though we were their +own ancestors come back to visit them.</p> + +<p>“Most of my crew, for personal reasons, were released from duty +there, and settled down to stay.</p> + +<p>“The clean-up job here on Earth was a minor operation to their +Navy. As I recall, the trip back was made in a little over five months, +and the Red Tide was killed within four weeks of the day the task force +arrived. I don’t think they wasted a motion. One explosive charge +per cell, of just sufficient size to disrupt the nucleus. When the +critical number of cells had been killed, the rest died overnight.</p> + +<p>“It was quite a different Earth that emerged from under the +plague, though. You know it had taken over all of the land area except +North America and a strip of Western Europe, and all of the sea it +wanted. It was particularly concentrated over what had been the jungle +areas of South America, Africa, and Asia. You must realize that in the +days before the Tide, those areas were almost completely uninhabitable. +You have no idea what the term Jungle really implied. When the Tide +died, it disintegrated into its component molecules; and the result was +that all those vast fertile Jungle lands were now beautifully levelled +and completely cleared areas covered with up to twenty feet of the +richest topsoil imaginable. That was what made it possible for old Terra +to become what she is today; the Federation’s truck farm, and the +sole source of those genuine original Terran foods that all the rest of +the worlds pay such fabulous prices for.</p> + +<p>“Strange how quickly we forget. Few people today remember how we +loathed and feared the Tide when we were fighting it. Now it’s +dismissed as a blessing in disguise.”</p> + +<p>The Admiral paused. “Well,” he said, “I think that +answers the questions and gives you a bit of homespun philosophy to go +with it.”</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>“Admiral,” said the reporter, “you’ve given the +public some facts it’s waited a long time to hear. Coming from +you, sir, this is the greatest story that could have come out of this +Reunion Day celebration. But there is one question more, if I may ask +it. Can you tell me, Admiral, just how it was that you rejected what +seemed to be prima facie proof of the story the Mancji told; that they +were the lords of creation out there, and that humanity was nothing but +a tame food animal to them?”</p> + +<p>The Admiral sighed. “I guess it’s a good question,” he +said. “But there was nothing supernatural about my figuring that +one. I didn’t suspect the full truth, of course. It never occurred +to me that we were the victims of the now well-known <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +but still inexplicable sense of humor of the Mancji, or that they were +nothing but scavengers around the edges of the Federation. The original +Omega ship had met them and seen right through them.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>“Well, when this hive spotted us coming in, they knew enough about +New Terra to realize at once that we were strangers, coming from outside +the area. It appealed to their sense of humor to have the gall to strut +right out in front of us and try to put over a swindle. What a laugh for +the oyster kingdom if they could sell Terrans on the idea that they were +the master race. It never occurred to them that we might be anything but +Terrans; Terrans who didn’t know the Mancji. And they were canny +enough to use an old form of Interlingua; somewhere they’d met men +before.</p> + +<p>“Then we needed food. They knew what we ate, and that was where +they went too far. They had, among the flotsam in their hive, a few +human bodies they had picked up from some wreck they’d come across +in their travels. They had them stashed away like everything else they +could lay a pseudopod on. So they stacked them the way they’d seen +Terran frozen foods shipped in the past, and sent them over. Another of +their little jokes.</p> + +<p>“I suppose if you’re already overwrought and eager to quit, +and you’ve been badly scared by the size of an alien ship, +it’s pretty understandable that the sight of human bodies, along +with the story that they’re just a convenient food supply, might +seem pretty convincing. But I was already pretty dubious about the +genuineness of our pals, and when I saw those bodies it was pretty plain +that we were hot on the trail of Omega Colony. There was no other place +humans could have come from out there. We had to find out the location +from the Mancji.”</p> + +<p>“But, Admiral,” said the reporter, “true enough they +were humans, and presumably had some connection with the colony, but +they were naked corpses stacked like cordwood. The Mancji had stated +that these were slaves, or rather domesticated animals; they +wouldn’t have done you any good.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you see, I didn’t believe that,” the Admiral +said. “Because it was an obvious lie. I tried to show some of the +officers, but I’m afraid they weren’t being too rational +just then.</p> + +<p>“I went into the locker and examined those bodies; if Kramer had +looked closely, he would have seen what I did. These were no tame +animals. They were civilized men.”</p> + +<p>“How could you be sure, Admiral? They had no clothing, no +identifying marks, nothing. Why didn’t you believe they were +cattle?”</p> + +<p>“Because,” said the Admiral, “all the men had nice +neat haircuts.”</p> + +<p class='noin c b' style='font-size:120%;'>THE END</p> + +<div class='bbox'> +<h3>Transcriber’s Notes and Errata</h3> + +<p>This etext was produced from “Amazing Science Fiction +Stories” April 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any +evidence that the U. S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> + +<p>The original page numbers from the magazine have been retained.</p> + +<p>There is one instance each of “showdown” and +“show-down”.</p> + +<p>The following typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="1" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr class='b'><td align='center'>Page</td><td align='center'>Error</td><td align='center'>Correction</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>37</td><td align='left'>of of</td><td align='left'>of</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>37</td><td align='left'>collant</td><td align='left'>coolant</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>39</td><td align='left'>Kireschenbaum</td><td align='left'>Kirschenbaum</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>40</td><td align='left'>syphillis</td><td align='left'>syphilis</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>41</td><td align='left'>richochet</td><td align='left'>ricochet</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>44</td><td align='left'>staccatto</td><td align='left'>staccato</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>46</td><td align='left'>crystalization</td><td align='left'>crystallization</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>52</td><td align='left'>richochet</td><td align='left'>ricochet</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>52</td><td align='left'>taget</td><td align='left'>target</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>54</td><td align='left'>ricocheted</td><td align='left'>ricocheting</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>65</td><td align='left'>anniversay</td><td align='left'>anniversary</td></tr> +</table></div></div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Greylorn, by John Keith Laumer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYLORN *** + +***** This file should be named 23028-h.htm or 23028-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/0/2/23028/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi 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 public domain print editions 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. 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+++ b/23028-page-images/p070.png diff --git a/23028.txt b/23028.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5028a9 --- /dev/null +++ b/23028.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2818 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Greylorn, by John Keith Laumer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + +Title: Greylorn + +Author: John Keith Laumer + +Release Date: October 13, 2007 [EBook #23028] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYLORN *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +GREYLORN + +By KEITH LAUMER + +Keith Laumer is a writer new to science fiction. In this story he +displays the finesse, artistry and imagination of an old pro. Here is +one of the tightest, tautest stories of interplanetary adventure in a +long while: + + + + +PROLOGUE + + +The murmur of conversation around the conference table died as the World +Secretary entered the room and took his place at the head of the table. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said. "I'll not detain you with formalities +today. The representative of the Navy Department is waiting outside to +present the case for his proposal. You all know something of the scheme; +it has been heard and passed as feasible by the Advisory Group. It will +now be our responsibility to make the decision. I ask that each of you +in forming a conclusion remember that our present situation can only be +described as desperate, and that desperate measures may be in order." + +The Secretary turned and nodded to a braided admiral seated near the +door who left the room and returned a moment later with a young +gray-haired Naval Officer. + +"Members of the Council," said the admiral, "this is Lieutenant +Commander Greylorn." All eyes followed the officer as he walked the +length of the room to take the empty seat at the end of the table. + +"Please proceed, Commander," said the Secretary. + +"Thank you, Mr. Secretary." The Commander's voice was unhurried and low, +yet it carried clearly and held authority. He began without preliminary. + +"When the World Government dispatched the Scouting Forces forty-three +years ago, an effort was made to contact each of the twenty-five worlds +to which this government had sent Colonization parties during the +Colonial Era of the middle Twentieth Centuries. With the return of the +last of the scouts early this year, we were forced to realize that no +assistance would be forthcoming from that source." + +The Commander turned his eyes to the world map covering the wall. With +the exception of North America and a narrow strip of coastal waters, the +entire map was tinted an unhealthy pink. + +"The latest figures compiled by the Department of the Navy indicate that +we are losing area at the rate of one square mile every twenty-one +hours. The organism's faculty for developing resistance to our chemical +and biological measures appears to be evolving rapidly. Analyses of +atmospheric samples indicate the level of noxious content rising at a +steady rate. In other words, in spite of our best efforts, we are not +holding our own against the Red Tide." + +A mutter ran around the table, as Members shifted uncomfortably in their +seats. + + * * * * * + +"A great deal of thought has been applied to the problem of increasing +our offensive ability. This in the end is still a question of manpower +and raw resources. We do not have enough. Our small improvements in +effectiveness have been progressively offset by increasing casualties +and loss of territory. In the end, alone, we must lose." + +The Commander paused, as the murmur rose and died again. "There is +however, one possibility still unexplored," he said. "And recent work +done at the Polar Research Station places the possibility well within +the scope of feasibility. At the time the attempt was made to establish +contact with the colonies, one was omitted. It alone now remains to be +sought out. I refer to the Omega Colony." + +A portly Member leaned forward and burst out, "The location of the +colony is unknown!" + +The Secretary intervened. "Please permit the Commander to complete his +remarks. There will be ample opportunity for discussion when he has +finished." + +"This contact was not attempted for two reasons," the Commander +continued. "First, the precise location was not known; second, the +distance was at least twice that of the earlier colonies. At the time, +there was a feeling of optimism which seemed to make the attempt +superfluous. Now the situation has changed. The possibility of +contacting Omega Colony now assumes paramount importance. + +"The development of which I spoke is a new application of drive +principle which has given to us a greatly improved effective velocity +for space propulsion. Forty years ago, the minimum elapsed time of +return travel to the presumed sector within which the Omega World should +lie was about a century. Today we have the techniques to construct a +small scouting vessel capable of making the transit in just over five +years. We cannot hold out here for a century, perhaps; but we can manage +a decade. + +"As for location, we know the initial target point toward which Omega +was launched. The plan was of course that a precise target should be +selected by the crew after approaching the star group closely enough to +permit telescopic planetary resolution and study. There is no reason why +the crew of a scout could not make the same study and examination of +possible targets, and with luck find the colony. + +"Omega was the last colonial venture undertaken by our people, two +centuries after the others. It was the best equipped and largest +expedition of them all. It was not limited to one destination, little +known, but had a presumably large selection of potentials from which to +choose; and her planetary study facilities were extremely advanced. I +have full confidence that Omega made a successful planetfall and has by +now established a vigorous new society. + +"Honorable Members of the Council, I submit that all the resources of +this Government should be at once placed at the disposal of a task force +with the assigned duty of constructing a fifty-thousand-ton scouting +vessel, and conducting an exhaustive survey of a volume of space of one +thousand A.U.'s centered on the so-called Omega Cluster." + +The World Secretary interrupted the babble which arose with the +completion of the officer's presentation. + +"Ladies and gentlemen, time is of the essence of our problem. Let's +proceed at once to orderly interrogation. Mr. Klayle, lead off, please." + + * * * * * + +The portly Councillor glared at the Commander. "The undertaking you +propose, sir, will require a massive diversion of our capacities from +defense. That means losing ground at an increasing rate to the obscenity +crawling over our planet. That same potential applied to direct +offensive measures may yet turn the balance in our favor. Against this, +the possibility of a scouting party stumbling over the remains of a +colony the location of which is almost completely problematical, and +which by analogy with all of the earlier colonial attempts has at best +managed to survive as a marginal foothold, is so fantastically remote as +to be inconsiderable." + +The Commander listened coolly, seriously. "Mr. Councillor," he replied, +"as to our defensive measures, we have passed the point of diminishing +returns. We have more knowledge now than we are capable of employing +against the plague. Had we not neglected the physical sciences as we +have for the last two centuries, we might have developed adequate +measures before we had been so far reduced in numbers and area as to be +unable to produce and employ the new weapons our laboratories have +belatedly developed. Now we must be realistic; there is no hope in that +direction. + +"As to the location of the Omega World, our plan is based on the fact +that the selection was not made at random. Our scout will proceed along +the Omega course line as known to us from the observations which were +carried on for almost three years after its departure. We propose to +continue on that line, carrying out systematic observation of each +potential sun in turn. As we detect planets, we will alter course only +as necessary to satisfy ourselves as to the possibility of suitability +of the planet. We can safely assume that Omega will not have bypassed +any likely target. If we should have more than one prospect under +consideration at any time, we shall examine them in turn. If the Omega +World has developed successfully, ample evidence should be discernible +at a distance." + + * * * * * + +Klayle muttered "Madness," and subsided. The angular member on his left +spoke gently, "Mr. Greylorn, why, if this colonial venture has met with +the success you assume, has its government not reestablished contact +with the mother world during the last two centuries?" + +"On that score, Mr. Councillor, we can only conjecture," the Commander +said. "The outward voyage may have required as much as fifty or sixty +years. After that, there must have followed a lengthy period of +development and expansion in building the new world. It is not to be +expected that the pioneers would be ready to expend resources in +expeditionary ventures for some time." + +"I do not completely understand your apparent confidence in the ability +of the hypothetical Omega culture to supply massive aid to us, even if +its people should be so inclined," said a straight-backed woman member. +"The time seems very short for the mastery of an alien world." + +"The population development plan, Madam, provided for an increase from +the original 10,000 colonists to approximately 40,000 within twenty +years, after which the rate of increase would of course rapidly grow. +Assuming sixty years for planetfall, the population should now number +over one hundred sixty millions. Given population, all else follows." + +Two hours later, the World Secretary summed up. "Ladies and gentlemen, +we have the facts before us. There still exist differences in +interpretation, which however will not be resolved by continued +repetition. I now call for a vote on the resolution proposed by the +Military Member and presented by Commander Greylorn." + +There was silence in the Council Chamber as the votes were recorded and +tabulated. Then the World Secretary sighed softly. + +"Commander," he said, "the Council has approved the resolution. I'm +sure that there will be general agreement that you will be placed at the +head of the project, since you were director of the team which developed +the new drive and are also the author of the plan. I wish you the best +of luck." He rose and extended his hand. + +The first keel plate of the Armed Courier Vessel _Galahad_ was laid +thirty-two hours later. + + + + +CHAPTER 1 + + +I expected trouble when I left the bridge. The tension that had been +building for many weeks was ready for release in violence. The ship was +silent as I moved along the passageway. Oddly silent, I thought; +something was brewing. + +I stopped before the door of my cabin, listening; then I put my ear to +the wall. I caught the faintest of sounds from within; a muffled click, +voices. Someone was inside, someone attempting to be very quiet. I was +not overly surprised. Sooner or later the trouble had had to come into +the open. I looked up the passage, dim in the green glow of the +nightlights. There was no one in sight. + +I listened. There were three voices, too faint to identify. The clever +thing for me to do now would be to walk back up to the bridge, and order +the Provost Marshall to clear my cabin, but I had an intuitive feeling +that that was not the way to handle the situation. It would make things +much simpler all around if I could push through this with as little +commotion as possible. + +There was no point in waiting. I took out my key and placed it +soundlessly in the slot. As the door slid back I stepped briskly into +the room. Kramer, the Medical Officer, and Joyce, Assistant +Communications Officer, stood awkwardly, surprised. Fine, the Supply +Officer, was sprawled on my bunk. He sat up quickly. + +They were a choice selection. Two of them were wearing sidearms. I +wondered if they were ready to use them, or if they knew just how far +they were prepared to go. My task would be to keep them from finding +out. + +I avoided looking surprised. "Good evening, gentlemen," I said +cheerfully. I stepped to the liquor cabinet, opened it, poured Scotch +into a glass. "Join me in a drink?" I said. + +None of them answered. I sat down. I had to move just a little faster +than they did, and by holding the initiative, keep them off balance. +They had counted on hearing my approach, having a few moments to get +set, and using my surprise against me. I had reversed their play and +taken the advantage. How long I could keep it depended on how well I +played my few cards. I plunged ahead, as I saw Kramer take a breath and +wrinkle his brow, about to make his pitch. + +"The men need a change, a break in the monotony," I said. "I've been +considering a number of possibilities." I fixed my eyes on Fine as I +talked. He sat stiffly on the edge of my bunk. Already he was regretting +his boldness in presuming to rumple the Captain's bed. + +"It might be a good bit of drill to set up a few live missile runs on +random targets," I said. "There's also the possibility of setting up a +small arms range and qualifying all hands." I switched my eyes to +Kramer. Fine was sorry he'd come, and Joyce wouldn't take the +initiative; Kramer was my problem. "I see you have your Mark 9, Major," +I said, holding out my hand. "May I see it?" I smiled pleasantly. + +I hoped I had hit him quickly and smoothly enough, before he had had +time to adjust to the situation. Even for a hard operator like Kramer, +it took mental preparation to openly defy his Commander, particularly in +casual conversation. But possession of the weapon was more than +casual.... + +I looked at him, smiling, my hand held out. He wasn't ready; he pulled +the pistol from its case, handed it to me. + +I flipped the chamber open, glanced at the charge indicator, checked the +action. "Nice weapon," I said. I laid it on the open bar at my right. + +Joyce opened his mouth to speak. I cut in in the same firm snappy tone I +use on the bridge. "Let me see yours, Lieutenant." + +He flushed, looked at Kramer, then passed the pistol over without a +word. I took it, turned it over thoughtfully, and then rose, holding it +negligently by the grip. + +"Now, if you gentlemen don't mind, I have a few things to attend to." I +was not smiling. I looked at Kramer with expressionless eyes. "I think +we'd better keep our little chat confidential for the present. I think I +can promise you action in the near future, though." + +They filed out, looking as foolish as three preachers caught in a raid +on a brothel. I stood without moving until the door closed. Then I let +my breath out. I sat down and finished off the Scotch in one drag. + +"You were lucky, boy," I said aloud. "Three gutless wonders." + + * * * * * + +I looked at the Mark 9's on the table. A blast from one of those would +have burned all four of us in that enclosed room. I dumped them into a +drawer and loaded my Browning 2mm. The trouble wasn't over yet, I knew. +After this farce, Kramer would have to make another move to regain his +prestige. I unlocked the door, and left it slightly ajar. Then I threw +the main switch and stretched out on my bunk. I put the Browning needler +on the little shelf near my right hand. + +Perhaps I had made a mistake, I reflected, in eliminating formal +discipline as far as possible in the shipboard routine. It had seemed +the best course for a long cruise under the present conditions. But now +I had a morale situation that could explode in mutiny at the first +blunder on my part. + +I knew that Kramer was the focal point of the trouble. He was my senior +staff officer, and carried a great deal of weight in the Officer's Mess. +As a medic, he knew most of the crew better than I. I thought I knew +Kramer's driving motive, too. He had always been a great success with +the women. When he had volunteered for the mission he had doubtless +pictured himself as quite a romantic hero, off on a noble but hopeless +quest. Now, after four years in deep space, he was beginning to realize +that he was getting no younger, and that at best he would have spent a +decade of his prime in monastic seclusion. He wanted to go back now, and +salvage what he could. + +It was incredible to me that this movement could have gathered +followers, but I had to face the fact; my crew almost to a man had given +up the search before it was well begun. I had heard the first rumors +only a few weeks before, but the idea had spread through the crew like +wildfire. Now, I couldn't afford drastic action, or risk forcing a +blowup by arresting ringleaders. I had to baby the situation along with +an easy hand and hope for good news from the Survey Section. A likely +find now would save us. + +There was still every reason to hope for success in our search. To date +all had gone according to plan. We had followed the route of Omega as +far as it had been charted, and then gone on, studying the stars ahead +for evidence of planets. We had made our first finds early in the fourth +year of the voyage. It had been a long tedious time since then of study +and observation, eliminating one world after another as too massive, too +cold, too close to a blazing primary, too small to hold an atmosphere. +In all we had discovered twelve planets, of four suns. Only one had +looked good enough for close observation. We had moved in to televideo +range before realizing it was an all-sea world. + +Now we had five new main-sequence suns ahead within six months' range. I +hoped for a confirmation on a planet at any time. To turn back now to a +world that had pinned its last hopes on our success was unthinkable, yet +this was Kramer's plan, and that of his followers. They would not +prevail while I lived. Still it was not my plan to be a party to our +failure through martyrdom. I intended to stay alive and carry through to +success. I dozed lightly and waited. + + * * * * * + +I awoke when they tried the door. It had swung open a few inches at the +touch of the one who had tried it, not expecting it to be unlatched. It +stood ajar now, the pale light from the hall shining on the floor. No +one entered. Kramer was still fumbling, unsure of himself. At every +surprise with which I presented him, he was paralyzed, expecting a trap. +Several minutes passed in tense silence; then the door swung wider. + +"I'll be forced to kill the first man who enters this room," I said in a +steady voice. I hadn't picked up the gun. + +I heard urgent whispers in the hall. Then a hand reached in behind the +shelter of the door and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened, +since I had opened the main switch. It was only a small discomfiture, +but it had the effect of interfering with their plan of action, such as +it was. These men were being pushed along by Kramer, without a clearly +thought out plan. They hardly knew how to go about defying lawful +authority. + +I called out, "I suggest you call this nonsense off now, and go back to +your quarters, men. I don't know who is involved in this, yet. You can +get away clean if you leave quietly, now, before you've made a serious +mistake." + +I hoped it would work. This little adventure, abortive though it was, +might serve to let off steam. The men would have something to talk about +for a few precious days. I picked up the needler and waited. If the +bluff failed, I would have to kill someone. + +Distantly I heard a metallic clatter. Moments later a tremor rattled the +objects on the shelf, followed a few seconds later by a heavy +shuddering. Papers slid from my desk, fluttered across the floor. The +whiskey bottle toppled, rolled to the far wall. I felt dizzy, as my bunk +seemed to tilt under me. I reached for the intercom key and flipped it. + +"Taylor," I said, "this is the Captain. What's the report?" + +There was a momentary delay before the answer came. "Captain, we've +taken a meteor strike aft, apparently a metallic body. It must have hit +us a tremendous wallop because it's set up a rotation. I've called out +Damage Control." + +"Good work, Taylor," I said. I keyed for Stores; the object must have +hit about there. "This is the Captain," I said. "Any damage there?" + +I got a hum of background noise, then a too-close transmission. "Uh, +Cap'n, we got a hole in the aft bulkhead here. I slapped a seat pad over +it. Man, that coulda killed somebody." + + * * * * * + +I flipped off the intercom and started aft at a run. My visitors had +evaporated. In the passage men stood, milled, called questions. I keyed +my mike as I ran. "Taylor, order all hands to emergency stations." + +It was difficult running, since the floors had assumed an apparent tilt. +Loose gear was rolling and sliding along underfoot, propelled forward by +centrifugal force. Aft of Stores, I heard the whistle of escaping air +and high pressure gasses from ruptured lines. Vapor clouds fogged the +air. I called for floodlights for the whole sector. + +Clay appeared out of the fog with his damage control crew. "Sir," he +said, "it's punctured inner and outer shells in two places, and +fragments have riddled the whole sector. There are at least three men +dead, and two hurt." + +"Taylor," I called, "let's have another damage control crew back here on +the triple. Get the medics back here, too." Clay and his men put on +masks and moved off. I borrowed one from a man standing by and followed. +The large exit puncture was in the forward cargo lock. The room was +sealed off, limiting the air loss. + +"Clay," I said, "pass this up for the moment and get that entry puncture +sealed. I'll put the extra crew in suits to handle this." + + * * * * * + +I moved back into clear air and called for reports from all sections. +The worst of the damage was in the auxiliary power control room, where +communication and power lines were slashed and the panel cut up. The +danger of serious damage to essential equipment had been very close, but +we had been lucky. This was the first instance I had heard of +encountering an object at hyper light speed. + +It was astonishing how this threat to our safety cleared the air. The +men went about their duties more cheerfully than they had for months, +and Kramer was conspicuous by his subdued air. The emergency had +reestablished at least for the time the normal discipline; the men still +relied on the Captain in trouble. + +Damage control crews worked steadily for the next seventy-two hours, +replacing wiring, welding, and testing. Power Section jockeyed +endlessly, correcting air motions. Meanwhile, I checked almost hourly +with Survey Section, hoping for good news to consolidate the improved +morale situation. + +It was on Sunday morning, just after dawn relief that Lt. Taylor came up +to the bridge looking sick. + +"Sir," he said, "we took more damage than we knew with that meteor +strike." He stopped and swallowed hard. + +"What have you got, Lieutenant?" I said. + +"We missed a piece. It must have gone off on a tangent through stores +into the cooler. Clipped the coolant line, and let warm air in. All the +fresh frozen stuff is contaminated and rotten." He gagged. "I got a +whiff of it, sir. Excuse me." He rushed away. + +This was calamity. + +We didn't carry much in the way of fresh natural food; but what we had +was vital. It was a bulky, delicate cargo to handle, but the chemists +hadn't yet come up with synthetics to fill all the dietary needs of man. +We could get by fine for a long time on vitamin tablets and +concentrates; but there were nutritional elements that you couldn't get +that way. Hydroponics didn't help; we had to have a few ounces of fresh +meat and vegetables grown in sunlight every week, or start to die within +months. + + * * * * * + +I knew that Kramer wouldn't let this chance pass. As Medical Officer he +would be well within his rights in calling to my attention the fact that +our health would soon begin to suffer. I felt sure he would do so as +loudly and publicly as possible at the first opportunity. + +My best move was to beat him to the punch by making a general +announcement, giving the facts in the best possible light. That might +take some of the sting out of anything Kramer said later. + +I gave it to them, short and to the point. "Men, we've just suffered a +serious loss. All the fresh frozen stores are gone. That doesn't mean +we'll be going on short rations; there are plenty of concentrates and +vitamins aboard. But it does mean we're going to be suffering from +deficiencies in our diet. + +"We didn't come out here on a pleasure cruise; we're on a mission that +leaves no room for failure. This is just one more fact for us to face. +Now let's get on with the job." + +I walked into the wardroom, drew a cup of near-coffee, and sat down. The +screen showed a beach with booming surf. The sound track picked up the +crash and hiss of the breakers. Considering the red plague that now +covered the scene, I thought it was a poor choice. I dialed for a high +view of rolling farmland. + +Mannion sat at a table across the room with Kirschenbaum. They were +hunched over their cups, not talking. I wondered where they stood. +Mannion, Communications Officer, was neurotic, but an old Armed Force +man. Discipline meant a lot to him. Kirschenbaum, Power Chief, was a +joker, with cold eyes, and smarter than he seemed. The question was +whether he was smart enough to idealize the stupidity of retreat now. + +Kramer walked in, not wasting any time. He saw me and came over. He +stopped a few feet from the table, and said loudly, "Captain, I'd like +to know your plans, now that the possibility of continuing is out." + +I sipped my near-coffee and looked at the rolling farmland. I didn't +answer him. If I could get him mad, I could take him at his game. + +Kramer turned red. He didn't like being ignored. The two at the other +table were watching. + +"Captain," Kramer said loudly. "As Medical Officer I have to know what +measures you're taking to protect the health of the men." + +This was a little better. He was on the defensive now; explaining why he +had a right to question his Commander. I wanted him a little hotter +though. + +I looked up at him. "Kramer," I said in a clear, not too loud voice, +"you're on watch. I don't want to find you hanging around the wardroom +making light chit-chat until you're properly relieved from duty." I went +back to my near-coffee and the farmland. A river was in view now, and +beyond it distant mountains. + +Kramer was furious. "Joyce has relieved me, Captain," he said, +controlling his voice with an effort. "I felt I'd better take this +matter up with you as soon as possible, since it affects the health of +every man aboard." He was trying to keep cool, in command of himself. + +"I haven't authorized any changes in the duty roster, Major," I said +mildly. "Report to your post." I was riding the habit of discipline now, +as far as it would carry me. I hoped that disobedience to a direct +order, solidly based on regulations, was a little too big a jump for +Kramer at the moment. Tomorrow it might be different. But it was +essential that I break up the scene he was staging. + +He wilted. "I'll see you at 1700 in the chart room, Kramer," I said as +he turned away. Mannion and Kirschenbaum looked at each other, then +finished their near-coffee hurriedly and left. I hoped their version of +the incident would help deflate Kramer's standing among the malcontents. + +I left the wardroom and took the lift up to the bridge and checked with +Clay and his survey team. + +"I think I've spotted a slight perturbation in Delta 3, Captain," Clay +said. "I'm not sure, we're still pretty far out." + +"All right, Clay," I said. "Stay with it." + +Clay was one of my more dependable men, dedicated to his work. +Unfortunately, he was no man of action. He would have little influence +in a show-down. + + * * * * * + +I was at the Schmidt when I heard the lift open. I turned; Kramer, Fine, +Taylor, and a half a dozen enlisted crew chiefs crowded out, bunched +together. They were all wearing needlers. At least they'd learned that +much, I thought. + +Kramer moved forward. "We feel that the question of the men's welfare +has to be dealt with right away, Captain," he said smoothly. + +I looked at him coldly, glanced at the rest of his crew. I said nothing. + +"What we're faced with is pretty grim, even if we turn back now. I can't +be responsible for the results if there's any delay," Kramer said. He +spoke in an arrogant tone. I looked them over, let the silence build. + +"You're in charge of this menagerie?" I said, looking at Kramer. "If so, +you've got thirty seconds to send them back to their kennels. We'll go +into the matter of unauthorized personnel on the bridge later. As for +you, Major, you can consider yourself under arrest in quarters. Now +_Move_." + +Kramer was ready to stare me down, but Fine gave me a break by tugging +at his sleeve. Kramer shook him loose, snarling. At that the crew chiefs +faded back into the lift. Fine and Taylor hesitated, then joined them. +Kramer started to shout after them, then got hold of himself. The lift +moved down. + +Kramer thought about going for his needler. I looked at him through +narrowed eyes. He decided to rely on his mouth, as usual. He licked his +lips. "All right, I'm under arrest," he said. "But as Medical Officer of +this vessel it's my duty to remind you that you can't live without a +certain minimum of fresh organic food. We've got to start back now." He +was pale, but determined. He couldn't bear the thought of getting bald +and toothless from dietary deficiency. The girls would never give him +another look. + +"We're going on, Kramer," I said. "As long as we have a man aboard still +able to move. Teeth or no teeth." + +"Deficiency disease is no joke, Captain," Kramer said. "You can get all +the symptoms of leprosy, cancer and syphilis just by skipping a few +necessary elements in your diet. And we're missing most of them." + +"Giving me your opinions is one thing, Kramer," I said. "Mutiny is +another." + +Clay stood beside the main screen, wide-eyed. I couldn't send Kramer +down under his guard. "Let's go, Kramer," I said. "I'm locking you up +myself." + +We rode down in the lift. The men who had been with Kramer stood +awkwardly, silent as we stepped out into the passage. I spotted two +chronic trouble-makers among them. I thought I might as well call them +now as later. "Williams and Nagle," I said, "this officer is under +arrest. Escort him to his quarters and lock him in." As they stepped +forward hesitantly, Kramer said, "Keep your filthy hooks off me." He +started down the passage. + + * * * * * + +If I could get Kramer put away before anybody else started trouble, I +might be able to bluff it through. I followed him and his two sheepish +guards down past the power section, and the mess. I hoped there would be +no crowd there to see their hero Kramer under guard. + +I was out of luck. Apparently word had gone out of Kramer's arrest, and +the corridor was clogged with men. They stood unmoving as we approached. +Kramer stopped. + +"Clear this passage, you men," I said. + +Slowly they began to move back, giving ground reluctantly. + +Suddenly Kramer shouted. "That's right, you whiners and complainers, +clear the way so the Captain can take me back to the missile deck and +shoot me. You just want to talk about home; you haven't got the guts to +do anything about it." + +The moving mass halted, milled. Someone shouted, "Who's he think he is, +anyway." + +Kramer whirled toward me. "He thinks he's the man who's going to let you +all rot alive, to save his record." + +"Williams, Nagle," I said loudly, "clear this passage." + + * * * * * + +Williams started half-heartedly to shove at the men nearest him. A fist +flashed out and snapped his head back. That was a mistake; Williams +pulled his needler, and fired a ricochet down the passage. + +"'Bout twelve a you yellow-bellies git outa my way," he yelled. "I'm +comin' through." + +Nagle moved close to Williams, and shouted something to him. The noise +drowned it. Kramer swung back to me, frantic to regain his sway over the +mob. + +"Once I'm out of the way, there'll be a general purge," he roared. The +hubbub faded, as men turned to hear him. + +"You're all marked men. He's gone mad. He won't let one of you live." +Kramer had their eyes now. "Take him now," he shouted, and seized my arm +to begin the action. + +He'd rushed it a little. I hit him across the face with the back of my +hand. No one jumped to his assistance. I drew my 2mm. "If you ever lay a +hand on your Commanding Officer again, I'll burn you where you stand, +Kramer." + +Then a voice came from behind me. "You're not killing anybody without a +trial, Captain." Joyce stood there with two of the crew chiefs, needler +in hand. Fine and Taylor were not in sight. + +I pushed Kramer out of my way and walked up to Joyce. + +"Hand me that weapon, Junior, butt first," I said. I looked him in the +eye with all the glare I had. He stepped back a pace. + +"Why don't you jump him," he called to the crowd. + +The wall annunciator hummed and spoke. + +"Captain Greylorn, please report to the bridge. Unidentified body on +main scope." + +Every man stopped in his tracks, listening. The annunciator continued. +"Looks like it's decelerating, Captain." + +I holstered my pistol, pushed past Joyce, and trotted for the lift. The +mob behind me broke up, talking, as men under long habit ran for action +stations. + +Clay was operating calmly under pressure. He sat at the main screen, and +studied the blip, making tiny crayon marks. + +"She's too far out for a reliable scanner track, Captain," he said, "but +I'm pretty sure she's braking." + +If that were true, this might be the break we'd been living for. Only +manned or controlled bodies decelerated in deep space. + +"How did you spot it, Clay?" I asked. Picking up a tiny mass like this +was a delicate job, even when you knew its coordinates. + +"Just happened to catch my eye, Captain," he said. "I always make a +general check every watch of the whole forward quadrant. I noticed a +blip where I didn't remember seeing one before." + +"You have quite an eye, Clay," I said. "How about getting this object in +the beam." + +"We're trying now, Captain," he said. "That's a mighty small field, +though." + +Joyce called from the radar board, "I think I'm getting an echo at +15,000, sir. It's pretty weak." + +Miller, quiet and meticulous, delicately tuned the beam control. "Give +me your fix, Joyce," he said. "I can't find it." + +Joyce called out his figures, in seconds of arc to three places. + +"You're right on it, Joyce," Miller called a minute later. "I got it. +Now pray it don't get away when I boost it." + +Clay stepped over behind Miller. "Take it a few mags at a time," he said +calmly. + +I watched Miller's screen. A tiny point near the center of the screen +swelled to a spec, and jumped nearly off the screen to the left. Miller +centered it again, and switched to a higher power. This time it jumped +less, and resolved into two tiny dots. + + * * * * * + +Step by step the magnification was increased as ring after ring of the +lens antenna was thrown into play. Each time the centering operation was +more delicate. The image grew until it filled a quarter of the screen. +We stared at it in fascination. + +It showed up in stark silhouette, in the electronic "light" of the radar +scope. Two perfect discs, joined by a fine filament. As we watched, +their relative positions slowly shifted, one moving across, half +occluding the other. + +As the image drifted, Miller worked with infinite care at his console to +hold it on center, in sharp focus. + +"Wish you'd give me an orbit on this thing, Joyce," he said, "so I could +lock onto it." + +"It ain't got no orbit, man," Joyce said. "I'm trackin' it, but I don't +understand it. That rock is on a closing curve with us, and slowin' down +fast." + +"What's the velocity, Joyce?" I asked. + +"Averagin' about 1,000 relative, Captain, but slowin' fast." + +"All right, we'll hold our course," I said. + +I keyed for a general announcement. + +"This is the Captain," I said. "General Quarters. Man action stations +and prepare for possible contact within one hour." + +"Missile Section. Arm No. 1 Battery and stand by." + +Then I added, "We don't know what we've got here, but it's not a natural +body. Could be anything from a torpedo on up." + +I went back to the Beam screen. The image was clear, but without detail. +The two discs slowly drew apart, then closed again. + +"I'd guess that movement is due to rotation of two spheres around a +common center," Clay said. + +"I agree with you," I said. "Try to get me a reading on the mass of the +object." + +I wondered whether Kramer had been locked up as I had ordered, but at +this moment it seemed unimportant. If this was, as I hoped, a contact +with our colony, all our troubles were over. + +The object (I hesitated to call it a ship) approached steadily, still +decelerating. Now Clay picked it up on the televideo, as it paralleled +our course forty-five hundred miles out. + +"Captain, it's my guess the body will match speeds with us at about 200 +miles, at his present rate of deceleration," Clay said. + +"Hold everything you've got on him, and watch closely for anything that +might be a missile," I said. + + * * * * * + +Clay worked steadily over his chart table. Finally he turned to me. +"Captain, I get a figure of over a hundred million tons mass; and +calibrating the scope images gives us a length of nearly two miles." + +I let that sink in. I had a strong and very empty feeling that this +ship, if ship it were, was not an envoy from any human colony. + +The annunciator hummed and spoke. "Captain, I'm getting a very short +wave transmission from a point out on the starboard bow. Does that sound +like your torpedo?" It was Mannion. + +"That's it, Mannion," I said. "Can you make anything of it?" + +"No, sir," he answered. "I'm taping it, so I can go to work on it." + +Mannion was our language and code man. I hoped he was good. + +"What does it sound like," I asked. "Tune me in." + +After a moment a high hum came from the speaker. Through it I could hear +harsh chopping consonants, a whining intonation. I doubted that Mannion +would be able to make anything of that gargle. + +Our Bogie closed steadily. At four hundred twenty-five miles he reversed +relative directions, and began matching our speed, moving closer to our +course. There was no doubt he planned to parallel us. + +I made a brief announcement to all hands describing the status of the +action. Clay worked over his televideo, trying to clear the image. I +watched as the blob on the screen swelled and flickered. Suddenly it +flashed into clear stark definition. Against a background of sparkling +black, the twin spheres gleamed faintly in reflected starlight. + +There were no visible surface features; the iodine-colored forms and +their connecting shaft had an ancient and alien look. + +We held our course steadily, watching the stranger maneuver. Even at +this distance it looked huge. + +"Captain," Clay said, "I've been making a few rough calculations. The +two spheres are about 800 yards in diameter, and at the rate the +structure is rotating it's pulling about six gravities." + +That settled the question of human origin of the ship. No human crew +would choose to work under six gee's. + +Now, paralleling us at just over two hundred miles, the giant ship spun +along, at rest relative to us. It was visible now through the direct +observation panel, without magnification. + + * * * * * + +I left Clay in charge on the bridge, and I went down to the Com Section. + +Joyce sat at his board, reading instruments and keying controls. So he +was back on the job. Mannion sat, head bent, monitoring his recorder. +The room was filled with the keening staccato of the alien transmission. + +"Getting anything on video?" I asked. Joyce shook his head. "Nothing, +Captain. I've checked the whole spectrum, and this is all I get. It's +coming in on about a dozen different frequencies; no FM." + +"Any progress, Mannion?" I said. + +He took off his headset. "It's the same thing, repeated over and over, +just a short phrase. I'd have better luck if they'd vary it a little." + +"Try sending," I said. + +Joyce tuned the clatter down to a faint clicking, and switched his +transmitter on. "You're on, Captain," he said. + +"This is Captain Greylorn, UNACV Galahad; kindly identify yourself." I +repeated this slowly, half a dozen times. It occurred to me that this +was the first known time in history a human being had addressed a +non-human intelligence. The last was a guess, but I couldn't interpret +our guest's purposeful maneuverings as other than intelligent. + +I checked with the bridge; no change. Suddenly the clatter stopped, +leaving only the carrier hum. + +"Can't you tune that whine out, Joyce?" I asked. + +"No, sir," he replied. "That's a very noisy transmission. Sounds like +maybe their equipment is on the blink." + +We listened to the hum, waiting. Then the clatter began again. + +"This is different," Mannion said. "It's longer." + +I went back to the bridge, and waited for the next move from the +stranger, or for word from Mannion. Every half hour I transmitted a call +identifying us, followed by a sample of our language. I gave them +English, Russian, and Standard Interlingua. I didn't know why, but +somehow I had a faint hope they might understand some of it. + +I stayed on the bridge when the watch changed. I had some food sent up, +and slept a few hours on the OD's bunk. + +Fine replaced Kramer on his watch when it rolled around. Apparently +Kramer was out of circulation. At this point I did not feel inclined to +pursue the point. + +We had been at General Quarters for twenty-one hours when the wall +annunciator hummed. + +"Captain, this is Mannion. I've busted it...." + +"I'll be right there," I said, and left at a run. + +Mannion was writing as I entered ComSection. He stopped his recorder and +offered me a sheet. "This is what I've got so far, Captain," he said. + +I read: INVADER; THE MANCJI PRESENCE OPENS COMMUNICATIONS. + +"That's a highly inflected version of early Interlingua, Captain," +Mannion said. "After I taped it, I compensated it to take out the +rise-and-fall tone, and then filtered out the static. There were a few +sound substitutions to figure out, but I finally caught on. It still +doesn't make much sense, but that's what it says." + +"I wonder what we're invading," I said. "And what is the 'Mancji +Presence'?" + +"They just repeat that over and over," Mannion said. "They don't answer +our call." + +"Try translating into old Interlingua, adding their sound changes, and +then feeding their own rise-and-fall routine to it," I said. "Maybe that +will get a response." + +I waited while Mannion worked out the message, then taped it on top of +their whining tone pattern. "Put plenty of horse-power behind it," I +said. "If their receivers are as shaky as their transmitter, they might +not be hearing us." + +We sent for five minutes, then tuned them back in and waited. There was +a long silence from their side, then they came back with a long +spluttering sing-song. + +Mannion worked over it for several minutes. "They must have understood +us, here's what I get," he said: + + THAT WHICH SWIMS IN THE MANCJI SEA; WE ARE AWARE THAT YOU HAVE THIS + TRADE TONGUE. YOU RANGE FAR. IT IS OUR WHIM TO INDULGE YOU; WE ARE + AMUSED THAT YOU PRESUME HERE; WE ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR INSOLENT DEMANDS. + +"It looks like we're in somebody's back yard," I said. "They acknowledge +our insolent demands, but they don't answer them." I thought a moment. +"Send this," I said. "We'll out-strut them:" + + THE MIGHTY WARSHIP GALAHAD REJECTS YOUR JURISDICTION. + + TELL US THE NATURE OF YOUR DISTRESS AND WE MAY CHOOSE TO OFFER AID. + +Mannion raised an eyebrow. "That ought to rock them," he said. + +"They were eager to talk to us," I said. "That means they want +something, in my opinion. And all the big talk sounds like a bluff of +our own is our best line." + +"Why do you want to antagonize them, Captain?" Joyce asked. "That ship +is over a thousand times the size of this can." + +"Joyce, I suggest you let me forget you're around," I said. + + * * * * * + +The Mancji whine was added to my message, and it went out. Moments later +this came back: + + MANCJI HONOR DICTATES YOUR SAFE-CONDUCT; TALK IS WEARYING; WE FIND + IT CONVENIENT TO SOLICIT A TRANSFER OF ELECTROSTATIC FORCE. + +"What the devil does that mean?" I said. "Tell them to loosen up and +explain themselves." + +Mannion wrote out a straight query, and sent it. Again we waited for a +reply. + +It came, in a long windy paragraph stating that the Mancji found +electro-static baths amusing, and that "crystallization" had drained +their tanks. They wanted a flow of electrons from us to replenish their +supply. + +"This sounds like simple electric current they're talking about, +Captain," Mannion said. "They want a battery charge." + +"They seem to have power to burn," I said. "Why don't they generate +their own juice? Ask them; and find out where they learned Interlingua." + +Mannion sent again; the reply was slow in coming back. Finally we got +it: + + THE MANCJI DO NOT EMPLOY MASSIVE GENERATION-PIECE WHERE + ACCUMULATOR-PIECE IS SUFFICIENT. THIS SIMPLE TRADE SPEECH IS OF OLD + KNOWLEDGE. WE SELECT IT FROM SYMBOLS WE ARE PLEASED TO SENSE + EMPATTERNED ON YOUR HULL. + +That made some sort of sense, but I was intrigued by the reference to +Interlingua as a trade language. I wanted to know where they had learned +it. I couldn't help the hope I started building on the idea that this +giant knew our colony, in spite of the fact that they were using an +antique version of the language, predating Omega by several centuries. + +I sent another query, but the reply was abrupt and told nothing except +that Interlingua was of "old knowledge." + +Then Mannion entered a long technical exchange, getting the details of +the kind of electric power they wanted. + +"We can give them what they want, no sweat, Captain," he said after half +an hour's talk. "They want DC; 100 volt, 50 amp will do." + +"Ask them to describe themselves," I directed. I was beginning to get an +idea. + +Mannion sent, got his reply. "They're molluscoid, Captain," he said. He +looked shocked. "They weigh about two tons each." + +"Ask them what they eat," I said. + +I turned to Joyce as Mannion worked over the message. "Get Kramer up +here, on the double," I said. + + * * * * * + +Kramer came in five minutes later, looking drawn and rumpled. He stared +at me sullenly. + +"I'm releasing you from arrest temporarily on your own parole, Major," I +said. "I want you to study the reply to our last transmission, and tell +me what you can about it." + +"Why me?" Kramer said. "I don't know what's going on." I didn't answer +him. + +There was a long tense half hour wait before Mannion copied out the +reply that came in a stuttering nasal. He handed it to me. + +As I had hoped, the message, after a preliminary recital of the +indifference of the Mancji to biological processes of ingestion, recited +a list of standard biochemical symbols. + +"Can we eat this stuff?" I asked Kramer, handing him the sheet. + +He studied it, and some of his accustomed swagger began to return. "I +don't know what the flowery phrases are all about, but the symbols refer +to common proteins, lipins, carbohydrates, vitamins, and biomins," he +said. "What is this, a game?" + +"All right, Mannion," I said. I was trying to hold back the excitement. +"Ask them if they have fresh sources of these substances aboard." + +The reply was quick; they did. + +"Tell them we will exchange electric power for a supply of these foods. +Tell them we want samples of half a dozen of the natural substances." + +Again Mannion coded and sent, received and translated, sent again. + +"They agree, Captain," he said at last. "They want us to fire a power +lead out about a mile; they'll come in close and shoot us a specimen +case with a flare on it. Then we can each check the other's +merchandise." + +"All right," I said. "We can use a ground-service cable; rig a pilot +light on it, and kick it out, as soon as they get in close." + +"We'll have to splice a couple of extra lengths to it," Mannion said. + +"Go to it, Mannion," I said. "And send two of your men out to make the +pick-up." This wasn't a communications job, but I wanted a reliable man +handling it. + +I returned to the bridge and keyed for Bourdon, directed him to arm two +of his penetration missiles, lock them onto the stranger, and switch +over to my control. With the firing key in my hand, I stood at the +televideo screen and watched for any signs of treachery. The ship moved +in, came to rest filling the screen. + +Mannion's men reported out. I saw the red dot of our power lead move +away, then a yellow point glowed on the side of the vast iodine-colored +wall looming across the screen. + +Nothing else emerged from the alien ship. The red pilot drifted across +the face of the sphere. Mannion reported six thousand feet of cable out +before the pilot disappeared abruptly. + +"Captain," Mannion reported, "they're drawing power." + +"O.K.," I said. "Let them have a sample, then shut down." + +I waited, watching carefully, until Mannion reported the cannister +inside. + +"Kramer," I said. "Run me a fast check on the samples in that +container." + +Kramer was recovering his swagger. "You'll have to be a little more +specific," he said. "Just what kind of analysis do you have in mind? Do +you want a full...." + +"I just want to know one thing, Kramer," I said. "Can we assimilate +these substances, yes or no. If you don't feel like co-operating, I'll +have you lashed to your bunk, and injected with them. You claim you're a +medical officer; let's see you act like one." I turned my back to him. + +Mannion called. "They say the juice we fed them was 'amusing,' Captain. +I guess that means it's O.K." + + +"I'll let you know in a few minutes how their samples pan out," I said. + + * * * * * + +Kramer took half an hour before reporting back. "I ran a simple check +such as I normally use in a routine mess inspection," he began. He +couldn't help trying to take the center of the stage to go into his Wise +Doctor and Helpless Patient routine. + +"Yes or no," I said. + +"Yes, we can assimilate most of it," he said angrily. "There were six +samples. Two were gelatinous substances, non-nutritive. Three were +vegetable-like, bulky and fibrous, one with a high iodine content; the +other was a very normal meaty specimen." + +"Which should we take?" I said. "Remember your teeth when you answer." + +"The high protein, the meaty one," he said. "Marked '6'." + +I keyed for Mannion. "Tell them that in return for 1,000 KWH we require +3,000 kilos of sample six," I said. + +Mannion reported back. "They agreed in a hurry, Captain. They seem to +feel pretty good about the deal. They want to chat, now that they've got +a bargain. I'm still taping a long tirade." + +"Good," I said. "Better get ready to send about six men with an +auxiliary pusher to bring home the bacon. You can start feeding them the +juice again." + +I turned to Kramer. He was staring at the video image. "Report yourself +back to arrest in quarters, Kramer," I said. "I'll take your services +today into account at your court-martial." + +Kramer looked up, with a nasty grin. "I don't know what kind of talking +oysters you're trafficking with, but I'd laugh like hell if they +vaporized your precious tub as soon as they're through with you." He +walked out. + +Mannion called in again from ComSection. "Here's their last, Captain," +he said. "They say we're lucky they had a good supply of this protein +aboard. It's one of their most amusing foods. It's a creature they +discovered in the wild state and it's very rare. The wild ones have died +out, and only their domesticated herds exist." + +"O.K., we're lucky," I said. "It better be good or we'll step up the +amperage and burn their batteries for them." + +"Here's more," Mannion said. "They say it will take a few hours to +prepare the cargo. They want us to be amused." + +I didn't like the delay, but it would take us about 10 hours to deliver +the juice to them at the trickle rate they wanted. Since the sample was +O.K., I was assuming the rest would be too. We settled down to wait. + +I left Clay in charge on the bridge and made a tour of the ship. The +meeting with the alien had apparently driven the mood of mutiny into the +background. The men were quiet and busy. I went to my cabin and slept +for a few hours. + + * * * * * + +I was awakened by a call from Clay telling me that the alien had +released his cargo for us. Mannion's crew was out making the pick-up. +Before they had maneuvered the bulky cylinder to the cargo hatch, the +alien released our power lead. + +I called Kramer and told him to meet the incoming crew and open and +inspect the cargo. If it was the same as the sample, I thought, we had +made a terrific trade. Discipline would recover if the men felt we still +had our luck. + +Then Mannion called again. "Captain," he said excitedly, "I think there +may be trouble coming. Will you come down, sir?" + +"I'll go to the bridge, Mannion," I said. "Keep talking." + +I tuned my speaker down low and listened to Mannion as I ran for the +lift. + +"They tell us to watch for a little display of Mancji power. They ran +out some kind of antenna. I'm getting a loud static at the top of my +short wave receptivity." + +I ran the lift up and as I stepped onto the bridge I said, "Clay, stand +by to fire." + +As soon as the pick-up crew was reported in, I keyed course corrections +to curve us off sharply from the alien. I didn't know what he had, but I +liked the idea of putting space between us. My P-Missiles were still +armed and locked. + +Mannion called, "Captain, they say our fright is amusing, and quite +justified." + +I watched the televideo screen for the first sign of an attack. Suddenly +the entire screen went white, then blanked. Miller, who had been at the +scanner searching over the alien ship at close range, reeled out of his +seat, clutching at his eyes. "My God, I'm blinded," he shouted. + +Mannion called, "Captain, my receivers blew. I think every tube in the +shack exploded!" + +I jumped to the direct viewer. The alien hung there, turning away from +us in a leisurely curve. There was no sign of whatever had blown us off +the air. I held my key, but didn't press it. I told Clay to take Miller +down to Medic. He was moaning and in severe pain. + +Kramer reported in from the cargo deck. The cannister was inside now, +coating up with frost. I told him to wait, then sent Chilcote, my +demolition man, in to open it. Maybe it was booby-trapped. I stood by at +the DVP and waited for other signs of Mancjo power to hit us. The +general feeling was tense. + +Apparently they were satisfied with one blast of whatever it was; they +were dwindling away with no further signs of life. + +After half an hour of tense alertness, I ordered the missiles disarmed. + +I keyed for General. "Men, this is the Captain," I said. "It looks as +though our first contact with an alien race has been successfully +completed. He is now at a distance of three hundred and moving off fast. +Our screens are blown, but there's no real damage. And we have a supply +of fresh food aboard; now let's get back to business. That colony can't +be far off." + +That may have been rushing it some, but if the food supply we'd gotten +was a dud, we were finished anyway. + +We watched the direct-view screen till the ship was lost; then followed +on radar. + +"It's moving right along, Captain," Joyce said, "accelerating at about +two gee's." + +"Good riddance," Clay said. "I don't like dealing with armed maniacs." + +"They were screwballs all right," I said, "but they couldn't have +happened along at a better time. I only wish we had been in a position +to squeeze a few answers out of them." + +"Yes, sir," Clay said. "Now that the whole thing's over, I'm beginning +to think of a lot of questions myself." + +The annunciator hummed. I heard what sounded like hoarse breathing. I +glanced at the indicator light. It was the cargo deck mike that was +open. + +I keyed. "If you have a report, Chilcote, go ahead," I said. + +Suddenly someone was shouting into the mike, incoherently. I caught +words, cursing. Then Chilcote's voice, "Captain," he said. "Captain, +please come quick." There was a loud clatter, noise, then only the hum +of the mike. + +"Take over, Clay," I said, and started back to the cargo deck at a dead +run. + + * * * * * + +Men crowded the corridor, asking questions, milling. I forced my way +through, found Kramer surrounded by men, shouting. + +"Break this up," I shouted. "Kramer, what's your report?" + +Chilcote walked past me, pale as chalk. I pushed through to Kramer. + +"Get hold of yourself, and make your report, Kramer," I said. "What +started this riot?" + +Kramer stopped shouting, and stood looking at me, panting. The crowded +men fell silent. + +"I gave you a job to do, Major," I said; "opening a cargo can. Now you +take it from there." + +"Yeah, Captain," he said. "We got it open. No wires, no traps. We hauled +the load out of the can on to the floor. It was one big frozen mass, +wrapped up in some kind of netting. Then we pulled the covering off." + +"All right, go ahead," I said. + +"That load of fresh meat your star-born pals gave us consists of about +six families of human beings; men, women, and children." Kramer was +talking for the crowd now, shouting. "Those last should be pretty tender +when you ration out our ounce a week, Captain." + +The men milled, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, as I thrust through to the +cargo lock. The door stood ajar and wisps of white vapor curled out into +the passage. + +I stepped through the door. It was bitter cold in the lock. Near the +outer hatch the bulky cannister, rimed with white frost, lay in a pool +of melting ice. Before it lay the half shrouded bulk that it had +contained. I walked closer. + +They were frozen together into one solid mass. Kramer was right. They +were as human as I. Human corpses, stripped, packed together, frozen. I +pulled back the lightly frosted covering, and studied the glazed white +bodies. + +Kramer called suddenly from the door. "You found your colonists, +Captain. Now that your curiosity is satisfied, we can go back where we +belong. Out here man is a tame variety of cattle. We're lucky they +didn't know we were the same variety, or we'd be in their food lockers +now ourselves. Now let's get started back. The men won't take 'no' for +an answer." + +I leaned closer, studying the corpses. "Come here, Kramer," I called. "I +want to show you something." + +"I've seen all there is to see in there," Kramer said. "We don't want to +waste time; we want to change course now, right away." + + * * * * * + +I walked back to the door, and as Kramer stepped back to let me precede +him out the door, I hit him in the mouth with all my strength. His head +snapped back against the frosted wall. Then he fell out into the +passage. + +I stepped over him. "Pick this up and put it in the brig," I said. The +men in the corridor fell back, muttering. As they hauled Kramer upright +I stepped through them and kept going, not running but wasting no time, +toward the bridge. One wrong move on my part now and all their misery +and fear would break loose in a riot the first act of which would be to +tear me limb from limb. + +I travelled ahead of the shock. Kramer had provided the diversion I had +needed. Now I heard the sound of gathering violence growing behind me. + +I was none too quick. A needler flashed at the end of the corridor just +as the lift door closed. I heard the tiny projectile ricochet off the +lift shaft. + +I rode up, stepped onto the bridge and locked the lift. I keyed for +Bourdon, and to my relief got a quick response. The panic hadn't +penetrated to Missile Section yet. + +"Bourdon, arm all batteries and lock onto that Mancji ship," I ordered. +"On the triple." + +I turned to Clay. "I'll take over, Clay," I said. "Alter course to +intercept our late companion at two and one-half gee's." + +Clay looked startled, but said only, "Aye, sir." + +I keyed for a general announcement. "This is the Captain," I said. +"Action station, all hands in loose acceleration harness. We're going +after Big Brother. You're in action against the enemy now, and from this +point on I'm remembering. You men have been having a big time letting +off steam; that's over now. All sections report." + +One by one the sections reported in, all but Med. and Admin. Well, I +could spare them for the present. The pressure was building now, as we +blasted around in a hairpin curve, our acceleration picking up fast. + +I ordered Joyce to lock his radar on target, and switch over to +autopilot control. Then I called Power Section. + +"I'm taking over all power control from the bridge," I said. "All +personnel out of the power chamber and control chamber." + +The men were still under control, but that might not last long. I had to +have the entire disposition of the ship's power, control, and armament +under my personal direction for a few hours at least. + +Missile Section reported all missiles armed and locked on target. I +acknowledged and ordered the section evacuated. Then I turned to Clay +and Joyce. Both were plenty nervous now; they didn't know what was +brewing. + +"Lieutenant Clay," I said. "Report to your quarters; Joyce, you too. I +want to congratulate both of you on a soldierly performance these last +few hours." + +They left without protest. I was aware that they didn't want to be too +closely identified with the Captain when things broke loose. + + * * * * * + +I keyed for a video check of the interior of the lift as it started back +up. It was empty. I locked it up. + +Now we were steady on course, and had reached our full two and a half +gees. I could hardly stand under that acceleration, but I had one more +job to do before I could take a break. + +Feet dragging, I unlocked the lift and rode it down. I was braced for +violence as I opened the lift door, but I was lucky. There was no one in +the corridor. I could hear shouts in the distance. I dragged myself +along to Power Section and pushed inside. A quick check of control +settings showed everything as I had ordered it. Back in the passage, I +slammed the leaded vault door to and threw in the combination lock. Now +only I could open it without blasting. + + * * * * * + +Control Section was next. It, too, was empty, all in order. I locked it, +and started across to Missiles. Two men appeared at the end of the +passage, having as hard a time as I was. I entered the cross corridor +just in time to escape a volley of needler shots. The mutiny was in the +open now, for sure. + +I kept going, hearing more shouting. I was sure the men I had seen were +heading for Power and Control. They'd get a surprise. I hoped I could +beat them to the draw at Missiles, too. + +As I came out in B corridor, twenty feet from Missiles, I saw that I had +cut it a bit fine. Three men, crawling, were frantically striving +against the multi-gee field to reach the door before me. Their faces +were running with sweat, purple with exertion. + +I had a slight lead; it was too late to make a check inside before +locking up. The best I could hope for was to lock the door before they +reached it. + +I drew my Browning and started for the door. They saw me and one reached +for his needler. + +"Don't try it," I called. I concentrated on the door, reached it, swung +it closed, and as I threw in the lock a needler cracked. I whirled and +fired. The man in the rear had stopped and aimed as the other two came +on. He folded. The other two kept coming. + +I was tired. I wanted a rest. "You're too late," I said. "No one but the +Captain goes in there now." I stopped talking, panting. I had to rest. +The two came on. I wondered why they struggled so desperately after they +were beaten. My thinking was slowing down. + +I suddenly realized they might be holding me for the crowd to arrive. I +shuffled backwards towards the cross corridor. I barely made it. Two men +on a shuttle cart whirled around the corner a hundred feet aft. I +lurched into my shelter in a hail of needler fire. One of the tiny slugs +stung through my calf and ricocheted down the passage. + +I called to the two I had raced; "Tell your boys if they ever want to +open that door, just see the Captain." + +I hesitated, considering whether or not to make a general statement. + +"What the hell," I decided. "They all know there's a mutiny now. It +won't hurt to get in a little life-insurance." + +I keyed my mike. "This is the Captain," I said. "This ship is now in a +state of mutiny. I call on all loyal members of the Armed Forces to +resist the mutineers actively, and to support their Commander. Your +ship is in action against an armed enemy. I assure you this mutiny will +fail, and those who took part in it will be treated as traitors to their +Service, their homes, and their own families who now rely on them. + +"We are accelerating at two and one-half gravities, locked on a +collision course with the Mancji ship. The mutineers cannot enter the +Bridge, Power, Control, or Missiles Sections since only I have the +combination. Thus they're doomed to failure. + +"I am now returning to the Bridge to direct the attack and destruction +of the enemy. If I fail to reach the Bridge, we will collide with the +enemy in less than three hours, and our batteries will blow." + +Now my problem was to make good my remark about returning to the Bridge. +The shuttle had not followed me, presumably fearing ambush. I took +advantage of their hesitation to cross back to corridor A at my best +speed. I paused once to send a hail of needles ricocheting down the +corridor behind me, and I heard a yelp from around the corner. Those +needles had a fantastic velocity, and bounced around a long time before +stopping. + +At the corridor, I lay down on the floor for a rest and risked a quick +look. A group of three men were bunched around the Control Section door, +packing smashite in the hairline crack around it. That wouldn't do them +any good, but it did occupy their attention. + +I faded back into the cross passage, and keyed the mike. I had to give +them a chance. + +"This is the Captain," I said. "All personnel not at their action +stations are warned for the last time to report there immediately. Any +man found away from his post from this point on is in open mutiny and +can expect the death penalty. This is the last warning." + +The men in the corridor had heard, but a glance showed they paid no +attention to what they considered an idle threat. They didn't know how +near I was. + +I drew my needler, set it for continuous fire, pushed into the corridor, +aimed, and fired. I shot to kill. All three sprawled away from the door, +riddled, as the metal walls rang with the cloud of needles. + +I looked both ways, then rose, with effort, and went to the bodies. I +recognized them as members of Kirschenbaum's Power Section crew. I keyed +again as I moved on toward the lift at the end of the corridor, glancing +back as I went. + +"Corley, Mac Williams, and Reardon have been shot for mutiny in the face +of the enemy," I said. "Let's hope they're the last to insist on my +enforcing the death penalty." + + * * * * * + +Behind me, at the far end of the corridor, men appeared again. I +flattened myself in a doorway, sprayed needles toward them, and hoped +for the best. I heard the singing of a swarm past me, but felt no hits. +The mutineers offered a bigger target, and I thought I saw someone fall. +As they all moved back out of sight, I made another break for the lift. + +I was grateful they hadn't had time to organize. I kept an eye to the +rear, and sent a hail of needles back every time a man showed himself. +They ducked out to fire every few seconds, but not very effectively. I +had an advantage over them; I was fighting for the success of the +mission and for my life, with no one to look to for help; they were each +one of a mob, none eager to be a target, each willing to let the other +man take the risk. + +I was getting pretty tired. I was grateful for the extra stamina and +wind that daily calisthenics in a high-gee field had given me; without +that I would have collapsed before now; but I was almost ready to drop. +I had my eyes fixed on the lift door; each step, inch by inch, was an +almost unbearable effort. With only a few feet to go, my knees gave; I +went down on all fours. Another batch of needles sang around me, and +vivid pain seared my left arm. It helped. The pain cleared my head, +spurred me. I rose and stumbled against the door. + +Now the combination. I fought a numbing desire to faint as I pressed the +lock control; three, five, two, five ... + +I twisted around as I heard a sound. The shuttle was coming toward me, +men lying flat on it, protected by the bumper plate. I leaned against +the lift door, and loosed a stream of needles against the side of the +corridor, banking them toward the shuttle. Two men rolled off the +shuttle in a spatter of blood. Another screamed, and a hand waved above +the bumper. I needled it. + + * * * * * + +I wondered how many were on the shuttle. It kept coming. The closer it +came, the more effective my bank shots were. I wondered why it failed to +return my fire. Then a hand rose in an arc and a choke bomb dropped in a +short curve to the floor. It rolled to my feet, just starting to spew. I +kicked it back. The shuttle stopped, backed away from the bomb. A jet of +brown gas was playing from it now. I aimed my needler, and sent it +spinning back farther. Then I turned to my lock. + +Now a clank of metal against metal sounded behind me; from the side +passage a figure in radiation armor moved out. The suit was self-powered +and needle proof. I sent a concentrated blast at the head, as the figure +awkwardly tottered toward me, ungainly in the multi-gee field. The +needles hit, snapped the head back. The suited figure hesitated, arms +spread, stepped back and fell with a thunderous crash. I had managed to +knock him off balance, maybe stun him. + +I struggled to remember where I was in the code sequence; I went on, +keyed the rest. I pushed; nothing. I must have lost count. I started +again. + +I heard the armored man coming on again. The needler trick wouldn't work +twice. I kept working. I had almost completed the sequence when I felt +the powered grip of the suited man on my arm. I twisted, jammed the +needler against his hand, and fired. The arm flew back, and even through +the suit I heard his wrist snap. My own hand was numb from the recoil. +The other arm of the suit swept down and struck my wounded arm. I +staggered away from the door, dazed with the pain. + +I side-stepped in time to miss another ponderous blow. Under two and a +half gees, the man in the suit was having a hard time, even with power +assisted controls. I felt that I was fighting a machine instead of a +man. + +As he stepped toward me again, I aimed at his foot. A concentrated +stream of needles hit, like a metallic fire hose, knocked the foot +aside, toppled the man again. I staggered back to my door. + +But now I realized I couldn't risk opening it; even if I got in, I +couldn't keep my suited assailant from crowding in with me. Already he +was up, lurching toward me. I had to draw him away from the door. + +The shuttle sat unmoving. The mob kept its distance. I wondered why no +one was shooting; I guessed they had realized that if I were killed +there would be no way to enter the vital control areas of the ship; they +had to take me alive. + + * * * * * + +I made it past the clumsy armored man and started down the corridor +toward the shuttle. I moved as slowly as I could while still eluding +him. He lumbered after me. I reached the shuttle; a glance showed no one +alive there. Two men lay across it. I pulled myself onto it and threw in +the forward lever. The shuttle rolled smoothly past the armored man, +striking him a glancing blow that sent him down again. Those falls, in +the multi-gee field, were bone crushing. He didn't get up. + +I reached the door again, rolled off the shuttle, and reached for the +combination. I wished now I'd used a shorter one. I started again; heard +a noise behind me. As I turned, a heavy weight crushed me against the +door. + +I was held rigid, my chest against the combination key. The pressure was +cracking my ribs and still it increased. I twisted my head, gasping. The +shuttle held me pinned to the door. The man I had assumed out of action +was alive enough to hold the lever down with savage strength. I tried to +shout, to remind him that without me to open the doors, they were +powerless to save the ship. I couldn't speak. I tasted blood in my +mouth, and tried to breathe. I couldn't. I passed out. + + + + +CHAPTER 2 + + +I emerged into consciousness to find the pressure gone, but a red haze +of pain remained. I lay on my back and saw men sitting on the floor +around me. + +A blow from somewhere made my head ring. I tried to sit up. I couldn't +make it. Then Kramer was beside me, slipping a needle into my arm. He +looked pretty bad himself. His face was bandaged heavily, and one eye +was purple. He spoke in a muffled voice through stiff jaws. His tone was +deliberate. + +"This will keep you conscious enough to answer a few questions," he +said. "Now you're going to give me the combinations to the locks so we +can call off this suicide run; then maybe I'll doctor you up." + +I didn't answer. + +"The time for clamming up is over, you stupid braggard," Kramer said. He +raised his fist and drove a hard punch into my chest. I guess it was his +shot that kept me conscious. I couldn't breathe for a while, until +Kramer gave me a few whiffs of oxygen. I wondered if he was fool enough +to think I might give up my ship. + +After a while my head cleared a little. I tried to say something. I got +out a couple of croaks, and then found my voice. + +"Kramer," I said. + +He leaned over me. "I'm listening," he said. + +"Take me to the lift. Leave me there alone. That's your only chance." It +seemed to me like a long speech, but nothing happened. Kramer went away, +came back. He showed me a large scalpel from his medical kit. "I'm going +to start operating on your face. I'll make you into a museum freak. +Maybe if you start talking soon enough I'll change my mind." + +I could see the watch on his wrist. My mind worked very slowly. I had +trouble getting any air into my lungs. We would intercept in one hour +and ten minutes. + +It seemed simple to me. I had to get back to the Bridge before we hit. I +tried again. "We only have an hour," I said. + +Kramer lost control. He jabbed the knife at my face, screeching through +gritted teeth. I jerked my head aside far enough that the scalpel grated +along my cheekbone instead of slashing my mouth. I hardly felt it. + +"We're not dying because you were a fool," Kramer yelled. "I've taken +over; I've relieved you as unfit for command. Now open up this ship or +I'll slice you to ribbons." He held the scalpel under my nose in a fist +trembling with fury. The chrome plated blade had a thin film of pink on +it. + +I got my voice going again. "I'm going to destroy the Mancji ship," I +said. "Take me to the lift and leave me there." I tried to add a few +words, but had to stop and work on breathing again for a while. Kramer +disappeared. + +I realized I was not fully in command of my senses. I was clamped in a +padded claw. I wanted to roll over. I tried hard, and made it. I could +hear Kramer talking, others answering, but it seemed too great an effort +to listen to the words. + +I was lying on my face now, head almost against the wall. There was a +black line in front of me, a door. My head cleared a bit. It must have +been Kramer's shot working on me. I turned my head and saw Kramer +standing now with half a dozen others, all talking at once. Apparently +Kramer's display of uncontrolled temper had the others worried. They +wanted me alive. Kramer didn't like anyone criticizing him. The argument +was pretty violent. There was scuffling--and shouts. + +I saw that I lay about twenty feet from the lift; too far. The door +before me, if I remembered the ship's layout, was a utility room, small +and containing nothing but a waste disposal hopper. But it did have a +bolt on the inside, like every other room on the ship. + +I didn't stop to think about it; I started trying to get up. If I'd +thought I would have known that at the first move from me all seven of +them would land on me at once. I concentrated on getting my hands under +me, to push up. I heard a shout, and turning my head, saw Kramer +swinging at someone. I went on with my project. + +Hands under my chest, I raised myself a little, and got a knee up. I +felt broken rib ends grating, but felt no pain, just the padded claw. +Then I was weaving on all fours. I looked up, spotted the latch on the +door, and put everything I had into lunging at it. My finger hit it, the +door swung in, and I fell on my face; but I was half in. Another lunge +and I was past the door, kicking it shut as I lay on the floor, reaching +for the lock control. Just as I flipped it with an extended finger, +someone hit the door from outside, a second too late. + +It was dark, and I lay on my back on the floor, and felt strange +short-circuited stabs of what would have been agonizing pain running +through my chest and arm. I had a few minutes to rest now, before they +blasted the door open. + +I hated to lose like this, not because we were beaten, but because we +were giving up. My poor world, no longer fair and green, had found the +strength to send us out as her last hope. But somewhere out here in the +loneliness and distance we had lost our courage. Success was at our +fingertips, if we could have found it; instead, in panic and madness, we +were destroying ourselves. + + * * * * * + +My mind wandered; I imagined myself on the Bridge, half-believed I was +there. I was resting on the OD bunk, and Clay was standing beside me. A +long time seemed to pass.... Then I remembered I was on the floor, +bleeding internally, in a tiny room that would soon lose its door. But +there was someone standing beside me. + +I didn't feel too disappointed at being beaten; I hadn't hoped for much +more than a breather, anyway. I wondered why this fellow had abandoned +his action station to hide there. The door was still shut. He must have +been there all along, but I hadn't seen him when I came in. He stood +over me, wearing greasy overalls, and grinned down at me. He raised his +hand. I was getting pretty indifferent to blows; I couldn't feel them. + +The hand went up, the man straightened and held a fairly snappy salute. +"Sir," he said. "Space'n first class Thomas." + +I didn't feel like laughing or cheering or anything else; I just took it +as it came. + +"At ease, Thomas," I managed to say. "Why aren't you at your duty +station?" I went spinning off somewhere after that oration. + +Thomas was squatting beside me now. "Cap'n, you're hurt, ain't you? I +was wonderin' why you was down here layin down in my 'Sposal station." + +"A scratch," I said. I thought about it for a while. Thomas was doing +something about my chest. This was Thomas' disposal station. Thomas +owned it. I wondered if a fellow could make a living with such a small +place way out here, with just an occasional tourist coming by. I +wondered why I didn't send one of them for help; I needed help for some +reason.... + +"Cap'n, I been overhaulin' my converter units, I jist come in. How long +you been in here, Cap'n?" Thomas was worried about something. + +I tried hard to think. I hadn't been here very long; just a few minutes. +I had come here to rest.... Then suddenly I was thinking clearly again. + + * * * * * + +Whatever Thomas was, he was apparently on my side, or at least neutral. +He didn't seem to be aware of the mutiny. I realized that he had bound +my chest tightly with strips of shirt; it felt better. + +"What are you doing in here, Thomas?" I asked. "Don't you know we're in +action against a hostile ship?" + +Thomas looked surprised. "This here's my action station, Cap'n," he +said. "I'm a Waste Recovery Technician, First Class, I keep the recovery +system operatin'." + +"You just stay in here?" I asked. + +"No, sir," Thomas said. "I check through the whole system. We got three +main disposal points and lots a little ones, an' I have to keep +everything operatin'. Otherwise this ship would be in a bad way, Cap'n." + +"How did you get in here?" I asked. I looked around the small room. +There was only one door, and the gray bulk of the converter unit which +broke down wastes into their component elements for re-use nearly filled +the tiny space. + +"I come in through the duct, Cap'n," Thomas said. "I check the ducts +every day. You know, Cap'n," he said shaking his head, "they's some bad +laid-out ductin' in this here system. If I didn't keep after it, you'd +be gettin' clogged ducts all the time. So I jist go through the system +and keep her clear." + +From somewhere, hope began again. "Where do these ducts lead?" I asked. +I wondered how the man could ignore the mutiny going on around him. + +"Well, sir, one leads to the mess; that's the big one. One leads to the +wardroom, and the other one leads up to the Bridge." + +My God, I thought, the Bridge. + +"How big are they?" I asked. "Could I get through them?" + +"Oh, sure, Cap'n," Thomas said. "You can get through 'em easy. But are +you sure you feel like inspectin' with them busted ribs?" + +I was beginning to realize that Thomas was not precisely a genius. "I +can make it," I said. + +"Cap'n," Thomas said diffidently, "it ain't none a my business, but +don't you think maybe I better get the doctor for ya?" + +"Thomas," I said, "maybe you don't know; there's a mutiny under way +aboard this ship. The doctor is leading it. I want to get to the Bridge +in the worst way. Let's get started." + +Thomas looked very shocked. "Cap'n, you mean you was hurt by somebody? I +mean you didn't have a fall or nothin', you was beat up?" He stared at +me with an expression of incredulous horror. + +"That's about the size of it," I said. I managed to sit up. Thomas +jumped forward and helped me to my feet. Then I saw that he was crying. + +"You can count on me, Cap'n," he said. "Jist lemme know who done it, an' +I'll feed 'em into my converter." + +I stood leaning against the wall, waiting for my head to stop spinning. +Breathing was difficult, but if I kept it shallow, I could manage. +Thomas was opening a panel on the side of the converter unit. + +"It's O.K. to go in Cap'n," he said. "She ain't operatin'." + +The pull of the two and a half gees seemed to bother him very little. I +could barely stand under it, holding on. Thomas saw my wavering step and +jumped to help me. He boosted me into the chamber of the converter and +pointed out an opening near the top, about twelve by twenty-four inches. + +"That there one is to the Bridge, Cap'n," he said. "If you'll start in +there, sir, I'll follow up." + + * * * * * + +I thrust head and shoulders into the opening. Inside it was smooth +metal, with no handholds. I clawed at it trying to get farther in. The +pain stabbed at my chest. + +"Cap'n, they're workin' on the door," Thomas said. "They already been at +it for a little while. We better get goin'." + +"You'd better give me a push, Thomas," I said. My voice echoed hollowly +down the duct. + +Thomas crowded into the chamber behind me then, lifting my legs and +pushing. I eased into the duct. The pain was not so bad now. + +"Cap'n, you gotta use a special kinda crawl to get through these here +ducts," Thomas said. "You grip your hands together out in front of ya, +and then bend your elbows. When your elbows jam against the side of the +duct, you pull forward." + +I tried it; it was slow, but it worked. + +"Cap'n," Thomas said behind me. "We got about seven minutes now to get +up there. I set the control on the converter to start up in ten minutes. +I think we can make it O.K., and ain't nobody else comin' this way with +the converter goin'. I locked the control panel so they can't shut her +down." + +That news spurred me on. With the converter in operation, the first step +in the cycle was the evacuation of the ducts to a near-perfect vacuum. +When that happened, we would die instantly with ruptured lungs; then our +dead bodies would be sucked into the chamber and broken down into useful +raw materials. I hurried. + +I tried to orient myself. The duct paralleled the corridor. It would +continue in that direction for about fifteen feet, and would then turn +upward, since the Bridge was some fifteen feet above this level. I +hitched along, and felt the duct begin to trend upward. + +"You'll have to get on your back here, Cap'n," Thomas said. "She widens +out on the turn." + +I managed to twist over. Thomas was helping me by pushing at my feet. As +I reached a near-vertical position, I felt a metal rod under my hand. +That was a relief; I had been expecting to have to go up the last +stretch the way a mountain climber does a rock chimney, back against one +wall and feet against the other. + +I hauled at the rod, and found another with my other hand. Below, Thomas +boosted me. I groped up and got another, then another. The remaining +slight slant of the duct helped. Finally my feet were on the rods. I +clung, panting. The heat in the duct was terrific. Then I went on up. +That was some shot Kramer had given me. + + * * * * * + +Above I could see the end of the duct faintly in the light coming up +through the open chamber door from the utility room. I remembered the +location of the disposal slot on the Bridge now; it had been installed +in the small apartment containing a bunk and a tiny galley for the use +of the Duty Officer during long watches on the Bridge. + +I reached the top of the duct and pushed against the slot cover. It +swung out easily. I could see the end of the chart table, and beyond, +the dead radar screen. I reached through and heaved myself partly out. I +nearly fainted at the stab from my ribs as my weight went on my chest. +My head sang. The light from below suddenly went out. I heard a muffled +clank; then a hum began, echoing up the duct. + +"She's closed and started cyclin' the air out, Cap'n," Thomas said +calmly. "We got about half a minute." + +I clamped my teeth together and heaved again. Below me Thomas waited +quietly. He couldn't help me now. I got my hands flat against the +bulkhead and thrust. The air was whistling around my face. Papers began +to swirl off the chart table. I twisted my body frantically, kicking +loose from the grip of the slot, fighting the sucking pull of air. I +fell to the floor inside the room, the slot cover slamming behind me. I +staggered to my feet. I pried at the cover, but I couldn't open it +against the vacuum. Then it budged, and Thomas' hand came through. The +metal edge cut into it, blood started, but the cover was held open half +an inch. I reached the chart table, almost falling over my leaden feet, +seized a short permal T-square, and levered the cover up. Once started, +it went up easily. Thomas face appeared, drawn and pale, eyes closed +against the dust being whirled into his face. He got his arms through, +heaved himself a little higher. I seized his arm and pulled. He +scrambled through. + +I knocked the T-square out of the way and the cover snapped down. Then I +slid to the floor, not exactly out, but needing a break pretty bad. +Thomas brought bedding from the OD bunk and made me comfortable on the +floor. + +"Thomas," I said, "when I think of what the security inspectors who +approved the plans for this arrangement are going to say when I call +this little back door to their attention, it almost makes it worth the +trouble." + +"Yes, sir," Thomas said. He sprawled on the deck and looked around the +Bridge, staring at the unfamiliar screens, indicator dials, controls. + + * * * * * + +From where I lay, I could see the direct vision screen. I wasn't sure, +but I thought the small bright object in the center of it might be our +target. Thomas looked at the dead radar screen, then said, "Cap'n, that +there radarscope out of action?" + +"It sure is, Thomas," I said. "Our unknown friends blew the works before +they left us." I was surprised that he recognized a radarscope. + +"Mind if I take a look at it, Cap'n?" he said. + +"Go ahead," I replied. I tried to explain the situation to Thomas. The +elapsed time since we had started our pursuit was two hours and ten +minutes; I wanted to close to no more than a twenty mile gap before +launching my missiles; and I had better alert my interceptor missiles in +case the Mancji hit first. + +Thomas had the cover off the radar panel and was probing around. He +pulled a blackened card out of the interior of the panel. + +"Looks like they overloaded the fuse," Thomas said. "Got any spares, +Cap'n?" + +"Right beside you in the cabinet," I said. "How do you know your way +around a radar set, Thomas?" + +Thomas grinned. "I useta be a radar technician third before I got inta +waste disposal," he said. "I had to change specialities to sign on for +this cruise." + +I had an idea there'd be an opening for Thomas a little higher up when +this was over. + +I asked him to take a look at the televideo, too. I was beginning to +realize that Thomas was not really simple; he was merely uncomplicated. + +"Tubes blowed here, Cap'n," he reported. "Like as if you was to set her +up to high mag right near a sun; she was overloaded. I can fix her easy +if we got the spares." + +I didn't take time to try to figure that one out. I could feel the +dizziness coming on again. + +"Thomas," I called, "let me know when we're at twenty miles from +target." I wanted to tell him more, but I could feel consciousness +draining away. "Then ..." I managed, "first aid kit ... shot...." + +I could still hear Thomas. I was flying away, whirling, but I could hear +his voice. "Cap'n, I could fire your missiles now, if you was to want me +to," he was saying. I struggled to speak. "No. Wait." I hoped he heard +me. + + * * * * * + +I floated a long time in a strange state between coma and consciousness. +The stuff Kramer had given me was potent. It kept my mind fairly clear +even when my senses were out of action. I thought about the situation +aboard my ship. + +I wondered what Kramer and his men were planning now, how they felt +about having let me slip through their fingers. The only thing they +could try now was blasting their way into the Bridge. They'd never make +it. The designers of these ships were not unaware of the hazards of +space life; the Bridge was an unassailable fortress. They couldn't +possibly get to it. + +I guessed that Kramer was having a pretty rough time of it now. He had +convinced the men that we were rushing headlong to sure destruction at +the hands of the all-powerful Mancji, and that their Captain was a fool. +Now he was trapped with them in the panic he had helped to create. I +thought that in all probability they had torn him apart. + +I wavered in and out of consciousness. It was just as well; I needed the +rest. Then I heard Thomas calling me. "We're closin' now, Cap'n," he +said. "Wake up, Cap'n, only twenty-three miles now." + +"Okay," I said. My body had been preparing itself for this, now it was +ready again. I felt the needle in my arm. That helped, too. + +"Hand me the intercom, Thomas," I said. He placed the mike in my hand. I +keyed for a general announcement. + +"This is the Captain," I said. I tried to keep my voice as steady as +possible. "We are now at a distance of twenty-one miles from the enemy. +Stand by for missile launching and possible evasive action. Damage +control crews on the alert." I paused for breath. + +"Now we're going to take out the Mancji ship, men," I said. "All two +miles of it." + +I dropped the mike and groped for the firing key. Thomas handed it to +me. + +"Cap'n," he said, bending over me. "I notice you got the selector set +for your chemical warheads. You wouldn't want me to set up pluto heads +for ya, would ya, Cap'n?" + +"No, thanks, Thomas," I said. "Chemical is what I want. Stand by to +observe." I pressed the firing key. + +Thomas was at the radarscope. "Missiles away, Cap'n. Trackin' O.K. Looks +like they'll take out the left half a that dumbbell." + +I found the mike again. "Missiles homing on target," I said. "Strike in +thirty-five seconds. You'll be interested to know we're employing +chemical warheads. So far there is no sign of offense or defense from +the enemy." I figured the news would shock a few mutineers. David wasn't +even using his slingshot on Goliath. He was going after him bare-handed. +I wanted to scare some kind of response out of them. I needed a few +clues as to what was going on below. + +I got it. Joyce's voice came from the wall annunciator. "Captain, this +is Lt. Joyce reporting." He sounded scared all the way through, and +desperate. "Sir, the mutiny has been successfully suppressed by the +loyal members of the crew. Major Kramer is under arrest. We're prepared +to go on with the search for the Omega Colony. But Sir ..." he paused, +gulping. "We ask you to change course now before launching any effective +attack. We still have a chance. Maybe they won't bother with us when +those firecrackers go off ..." + + * * * * * + +I watched the direct vision screen. Zero second closed in. And on the +screen the face of the left hand disk of the Mancji ship was lit +momentarily by a brilliant spark of yellow, then another. A +discoloration showed dimly against the dark metallic surface. It spread, +and a faint vapor formed over it. Now tiny specs could be seen moving +away from the ship. The disk elongated, with infinite leisure, widening. + +"What's happenin'? Cap'n?" Thomas asked. He was staring at the scope in +fascination. "They launchin' scouts, or what?" + +"Take a look here, Thomas," I said. "The ship is breaking up." + +The disk was an impossibly long ellipse now, surrounded by a vast array +of smaller bodies, fragments and contents of the ship. Now the stricken +globe moved completely free of its companion. It rotated, presenting a +crescent toward us, then wheeled farther as it receded from its twin, +showing its elongation. The sphere had split wide open. Now the +shattered half itself separated into two halves, and these in turn +crumbled, strewing debris in a widening spiral. + +"My God, Cap'n," Thomas said in awe. "That's the greatest display I ever +seen. And all it took to set her off was 200 kilos a PBL. Now that's +somethin'." + +I keyed the mike again. "This is the Captain," I said. "I want ten +four-man patrols ready to go out in fifteen minutes. The enemy ship has +been put out of action and is now in a derelict condition. I want only +one thing from her; one live prisoner. All Section chiefs report to me +on the Bridge on the triple." + +"Thomas," I said, "go down in the lift and open up for the Chiefs. +Here's the release key for the combination; you know how to operate it?" + +"Sure, Cap'n; but are you sure you want to let them boys in here after +the way they jumped you an' all?" + +I opened my mouth to answer, but he beat me to it. "Fergit I asked ya +that, Cap'n, pleasir. You ain't been wrong yet." + +"It's O.K., Thomas," I said. "There won't be any more trouble." + + + + +EPILOGUE + + +On the eve of the twentieth anniversary of Reunion Day, a throng of +well-heeled celebrants filled the dining room and overflowed onto the +terraces of the Star Tower Dining Room, from whose 5,700 foot height +above the beaches, the Florida Keys, a hundred miles to the south, were +visible on clear days. + +The _Era_ reporter stood beside the vast glass entry way surveying the +crowd, searching for celebrities from whom he might elicit bits of color +to spice the day's transmission. + +At the far side of the room, surrounded by chattering admirers, stood +the Ambassador from the New Terran Federation; a portly, graying, jolly +ex-Naval officer. A minor actress passed at close range, looking the +other way. A cabinet member stood at the bar talking earnestly to a ball +player, ignoring a group of hopeful reporters and fans. + +The _Era_ stringer, an experienced hand, passed over the hard pressed +VIP's near the center of the room and started a face-by-face check of +the less gregarious diners seated at obscure tables along the sides of +the room. + +He was in luck; the straight-backed gray-haired figure in the dark +civilian suit, sitting alone at a tiny table in an alcove, caught his +eye. He moved closer, straining for a clear glimpse through the crowd. +Then he was sure. He had the biggest possible catch of the day in his +sights; Admiral of Fleets Frederick Greylorn. + +The reporter hesitated; he was well aware of the Admiral's reputation +for near-absolute silence on the subject of his already legendary +cruise, the fabulous voyage of the _Galahad_. He couldn't just barge in +on the Admiral and demand answers, as was usual with publicity-hungry +politicians and show people. He could score the biggest story of the +century today; but he had to hit him right. + +You couldn't hope to snow a man like the Admiral; he wasn't somebody you +could push around. You could sense the solid iron of him from here. + +Nobody else had noticed the solitary diner. The _Era_ man drifted +closer, moving unhurriedly, thinking furiously. It was no good trying +some tricky approach; his best bet was the straight-from-the-shoulder +bit. No point in hesitating. He stopped beside the table. + +The Admiral was looking out across the Gulf. He turned and glanced up at +the reporter. + +The news man looked him squarely in the eye. "I'm a reporter, Admiral," +he said. "Will you talk to me?" + +The Admiral nodded to the seat across from him. "Sit down," he said. He +glanced around the room. + +The reporter caught the look. "I'll keep it light, sir," he said. "I +don't want company either." That was being frank. + + * * * * * + +"You want the answers to some questions, don't you?" the Admiral said. + +"Why, yes, sir," the reporter said. He started to inconspicuously key +his pocket recorder, but caught himself. "May I record your remarks, +Admiral?" he said. Frankness all the way. + +"Go ahead," said the Admiral. + +"Now, Admiral," the reporter began, "the Terran public has of course +..." + +"Never mind the patter, son," the Admiral said mildly. "I know what the +questions are. I've read all the memoirs of the crew. They've been +coming out at the rate of about two a year for some time now. I had my +own reasons for not wanting to add anything to my official statement." + +The Admiral poured wine into his glass. "Excuse me," he said. "Will you +join me?" He signalled the waiter. + +"Another wine glass, please," he said. He looked at the golden wine in +the glass, held it up to the light. "You know, the Florida wines are as +good as any in the world," he said. "That's not to say the California +and Ohio wines aren't good. But this Flora Pinellas is a genuine +original, not an imitation Rhine; and it compares favorably with the +best of the old vintages, particularly the '87." + +The glass arrived and the waiter poured. The reporter had the wit to +remain silent. + + * * * * * + +"The first question is usually, how did I know I could take the Mancji +ship. After all, it was big, vast. It loomed over us like a mountain. +The Mancji themselves weighed almost two tons each; they liked six gee +gravity. They blasted our communication off the air, just for practice. +They talked big, too. We were invaders in their territory. They were +amused by us. So where did I get the notion that our attack would be +anything more than a joke to them? That's the big question." The Admiral +shook his head. + +"The answer is quite simple. In the first place, they were pulling six +gees by using a primitive dumbbell configuration. The only reason for +that type of layout, as students of early space vessel design can tell +you, is to simplify setting up a gee field effect using centrifugal +force. So they obviously had no gravity field generators. + +"Then their transmission was crude. All they had was simple +old-fashioned short-range radio, and even that was noisy and erratic. +And their reception was as bad. We had to use a kilowatt before they +could pick it up at 200 miles. We didn't know then it was all +organically generated; that they had no equipment." + +The Admiral sipped his wine, frowning at the recollection. "I was pretty +sure they were bluffing when I changed course and started after them. I +had to hold our acceleration down to two and a half gees because I had +to be able to move around the ship. And at that acceleration we gained +on them. They couldn't beat us. And it wasn't because they couldn't take +high gees; they liked six for comfort, you remember. No, they just +didn't have the power." + + * * * * * + +The Admiral looked out the window. + +"Add to that the fact that they apparently couldn't generate ordinary +electric current. I admit that none of this was conclusive, but after +all, if I was wrong we were sunk anyway. When Thomas told me the nature +of the damage to our radar and communications systems, that was another +hint. Their big display of Mancji power was just a blast of radiation +right across the communication spectrum; it burned tubes and blew fuses; +nothing else. We were back in operation an hour after our attack. + +"The evidence was there to see, but there's something about giant size +that gets people rattled. Size alone doesn't mean a thing. It's rather +like the bluff the Soviets ran on the rest of the world for a couple of +decades back in the war era, just because they sprawled across half the +globe. They were a giant, though it was mostly frozen desert. When the +showdown came they didn't have it. They were a pushover. + +"All right, the next question is why did I choose H. E. instead of going +in with everything I had? That's easy, too. What I wanted was +information, not revenge. I still had the heavy stuff in reserve and +ready to go if I needed it, but first I had to try to take them alive. +Vaporizing them wouldn't have helped our position. And I was lucky; it +worked. + +"The, ah, confusion below evaporated as soon as the Section chiefs got a +look at the screens and realized that we had actually knocked out the +Mancji. We matched speeds with the wreckage and the patrols went out to +look for a piece of ship with a survivor in it. If we'd had no luck we +would have tackled the other half of the ship, which was still intact +and moving off fast. But we got quite a shock when we found the nature +of the wreckage." The Admiral grinned. + +"Of course today everybody knows all about the Mancji hive intelligence, +and their evolutionary history. But we were pretty startled to find that +the only wreckage consisted of the Mancji themselves, each two-ton slug +in his own hard chitin shell. Of course, a lot of the cells were +ruptured by the explosions, but most of them had simply disassociated +from the hive mass as it broke up. So there was no ship; just a cluster +of cells like a giant bee hive, and mixed up among the slugs, the +damnedest collection of loot you can imagine. The odds and ends they'd +stolen and tucked away in the hive during a couple hundred years of +camp-following. + +"The patrols brought a couple of cells alongside, and Mannion went out +to try to establish contact. Sure enough, he got a very faint +transmission, on the same bands as before. The cells were talking to +each other in their own language. They ignored Mannion even though his +transmission must have blanketed everything within several hundred +miles. We eventually brought one of them into the cargo lock and started +trying different wave-lengths on it. Then Kramer had the idea of +planting a couple of electrodes and shooting a little juice to it. Of +course, it loved the DC, but as soon as we tried AC, it gave up. So we +had a long talk with it and found out everything we needed to know. + + * * * * * + +"It was a four-week run to the nearest outpost planet of the New Terran +Federation, and they took me on to New Terra aboard one of their fast +liaison vessels. The rest you know. We, the home planet, were as lost +to the New Terrans as they were to us. They greeted us as though we were +their own ancestors come back to visit them. + +"Most of my crew, for personal reasons, were released from duty there, +and settled down to stay. + +"The clean-up job here on Earth was a minor operation to their Navy. As +I recall, the trip back was made in a little over five months, and the +Red Tide was killed within four weeks of the day the task force arrived. +I don't think they wasted a motion. One explosive charge per cell, of +just sufficient size to disrupt the nucleus. When the critical number of +cells had been killed, the rest died overnight. + +"It was quite a different Earth that emerged from under the plague, +though. You know it had taken over all of the land area except North +America and a strip of Western Europe, and all of the sea it wanted. It +was particularly concentrated over what had been the jungle areas of +South America, Africa, and Asia. You must realize that in the days +before the Tide, those areas were almost completely uninhabitable. You +have no idea what the term Jungle really implied. When the Tide died, it +disintegrated into its component molecules; and the result was that all +those vast fertile Jungle lands were now beautifully levelled and +completely cleared areas covered with up to twenty feet of the richest +topsoil imaginable. That was what made it possible for old Terra to +become what she is today; the Federation's truck farm, and the sole +source of those genuine original Terran foods that all the rest of the +worlds pay such fabulous prices for. + +"Strange how quickly we forget. Few people today remember how we loathed +and feared the Tide when we were fighting it. Now it's dismissed as a +blessing in disguise." + +The Admiral paused. "Well," he said, "I think that answers the questions +and gives you a bit of homespun philosophy to go with it." + + * * * * * + +"Admiral," said the reporter, "you've given the public some facts it's +waited a long time to hear. Coming from you, sir, this is the greatest +story that could have come out of this Reunion Day celebration. But +there is one question more, if I may ask it. Can you tell me, Admiral, +just how it was that you rejected what seemed to be prima facie proof of +the story the Mancji told; that they were the lords of creation out +there, and that humanity was nothing but a tame food animal to them?" + +The Admiral sighed. "I guess it's a good question," he said. "But there +was nothing supernatural about my figuring that one. I didn't suspect +the full truth, of course. It never occurred to me that we were the +victims of the now well-known but still inexplicable sense of humor of +the Mancji, or that they were nothing but scavengers around the edges of +the Federation. The original Omega ship had met them and seen right +through them. + + * * * * * + +"Well, when this hive spotted us coming in, they knew enough about New +Terra to realize at once that we were strangers, coming from outside the +area. It appealed to their sense of humor to have the gall to strut +right out in front of us and try to put over a swindle. What a laugh for +the oyster kingdom if they could sell Terrans on the idea that they were +the master race. It never occurred to them that we might be anything but +Terrans; Terrans who didn't know the Mancji. And they were canny enough +to use an old form of Interlingua; somewhere they'd met men before. + +"Then we needed food. They knew what we ate, and that was where they +went too far. They had, among the flotsam in their hive, a few human +bodies they had picked up from some wreck they'd come across in their +travels. They had them stashed away like everything else they could lay +a pseudopod on. So they stacked them the way they'd seen Terran frozen +foods shipped in the past, and sent them over. Another of their little +jokes. + +"I suppose if you're already overwrought and eager to quit, and you've +been badly scared by the size of an alien ship, it's pretty +understandable that the sight of human bodies, along with the story that +they're just a convenient food supply, might seem pretty convincing. But +I was already pretty dubious about the genuineness of our pals, and when +I saw those bodies it was pretty plain that we were hot on the trail of +Omega Colony. There was no other place humans could have come from out +there. We had to find out the location from the Mancji." + +"But, Admiral," said the reporter, "true enough they were humans, and +presumably had some connection with the colony, but they were naked +corpses stacked like cordwood. The Mancji had stated that these were +slaves, or rather domesticated animals; they wouldn't have done you any +good." + +"Well, you see, I didn't believe that," the Admiral said. "Because it +was an obvious lie. I tried to show some of the officers, but I'm afraid +they weren't being too rational just then. + +"I went into the locker and examined those bodies; if Kramer had looked +closely, he would have seen what I did. These were no tame animals. They +were civilized men." + +"How could you be sure, Admiral? They had no clothing, no identifying +marks, nothing. Why didn't you believe they were cattle?" + +"Because," said the Admiral, "all the men had nice neat haircuts." + + +THE END + + + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Notes and Errata | + | | + | This etext was produced from "Amazing Science Fiction | + | Stories" April 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any | + | evidence that the U. S. copyright on this publication was | + | renewed. | + | | + | There is one instance each of "showdown" and "show-down". | + | | + | The following typographical errors have been corrected. | + | | + | |Error |Correction | | + | |of of |of | | + | |collant |coolant | | + | |Kireschenbaum |Kirschenbaum | | + | |syphillis |syphilis | | + | |richochet |ricochet | | + | |staccatto |staccato | | + | |crystalization |crystallization | | + | |taget |target | | + | |ricocheted |ricocheting | | + | |anniversay |anniversary | | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Greylorn, by John Keith Laumer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREYLORN *** + +***** This file should be named 23028.txt or 23028.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/0/2/23028/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi 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 public domain print editions 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. 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