"Don't talk stupidly," Kerk said as he punched for a duplicate order of
steak. "There are much simpler ways of committing suicide. Don't you
realize that you're a millionaire now? With what you have in your pocket
you can relax the rest of your life on the pleasure planets. Pyrrus is a
death world, not a sightseeing spot for jaded tourists. I cannot permit
you to return with me."
Gamblers who lose their tempers don't last long. Jason was angry now.
Yet it showed only in a negative way. In the lack of expression on his
face and the calmness of his voice.
"Don't tell me what I can or cannot do, Kerk Pyrrus. You're a big man
with a fast gun--but that doesn't make you my boss. All you can do is
stop me from going back on your ship. But I can easily afford to get
there another way. And don't try to tell me I want to go to Pyrrus for
sightseeing when you have no idea of my real reasons."
Jason didn't even try to explain his reasons, they were only half
realized and too personal. The more he traveled, the more things looked
the same to him. The old, civilized planets sank into a drab similarity.
Frontier worlds all had the crude sameness of temporary camps in a
forest. Not that the galactic worlds bored him. It was just that he had
found their limitations--yet had never found his own. Until he met Kerk
he had acknowledged no man his superior, or even his equal. This was
more than egotism. It was facing facts. Now he was forced to face the
fact that there was a whole world of people who might be superior to
him. Jason could never rest content until he had been there and seen for
himself. Even if he died in the attempt.
None of this could be told to Kerk. There were other reasons he would
understand better.
"You're not thinking ahead when you prevent me from going to Pyrrus,"
Jason said. "I'll not mention any moral debt you owe me for winning that
money you needed. But what about the next time? If you needed that much
lethal goods once, you'll probably need it again some day. Wouldn't it
be better to have me on hand--old tried and true--than dreaming up some
new and possibly unreliable scheme?"
Kerk chewed pensively on the second serving of steak. "That makes sense.
And I must admit I hadn't thought of it before. One failing we Pyrrans
have is a lack of interest in the future. Staying alive day by day is
enough trouble. So we tend to face emergencies as they arrive and let
the dim future take care of itself. You can come. I hope you will still
be alive when we need you. As Pyrran ambassador to a lot of places I
officially invite you to our planet. All expenses paid. On the condition
you obey completely all our instructions regarding your personal
safety."
"Conditions accepted," Jason said. And wondered why he was so cheerful
about signing his own death warrant.
Kerk was shoveling his way through his third dessert when his alarm
watch gave a tiny hum. He dropped his fork instantly and stood up. "Time
to go," he said. "We're on schedule now." While Jason scrambled to his
feet, he jammed coins into the meter until the _paid_ light came on.
Then they were out the door and walking fast.
Jason wasn't at all surprised when they came on a public escalator just
behind the restaurant. He was beginning to realize that since leaving
the Casino their every move had been carefully planned and timed.
Without a doubt the alarm was out and the entire planet being searched
for them. Yet so far they hadn't noticed the slightest sign of pursuit.
This wasn't the first time Jason had to move just one jump ahead of the
authorities--but it was the first time he had let someone else lead him
by the hand while he did it. He had to smile at his own automatic
agreement. He had been a loner for so many years that he found a certain
inverse pleasure in following someone else.
"Hurry up," Kerk growled after a quick glance at his watch. He set a
steady, killing pace up the escalator steps. They went up five levels
that way--without seeing another person--before Kerk relented and let
the escalator do the work.
Jason prided himself on keeping in condition. But the sudden climb,
after the sleepless night, left him panting heavily and soaked with
sweat. Kerk, cool of forehead and breathing normally, didn't show the
slightest sign that he had been running.
They were at the second motor level when Kerk stepped off the slowly
rising steps and waved Jason after him. As they came through the exit to
the street a car pulled up to the curb in front of them. Jason had
enough sense not to reach for his gun. At the exact moment they reached
the car the driver opened the door and stepped out. Kerk passed him a
slip of paper without saying a word and slipped in behind the wheel.
There was just time for Jason to jump in before the car pulled away. The
entire transfer had taken less than three seconds.
There had been only a glimpse of the driver in the dim light, but Jason
had recognized him. Of course he had never seen the man before, but
after knowing Kerk he couldn't mistake the compact strength of a native
Pyrran.
"That was the receipt from Ellus you gave him," Jason said.
"Of course. That takes care of the ship and the cargo. They'll be
off-planet and safely away before the casino check is traced to Ellus.
So now let's look after ourselves. I'll explain the plan in detail so
there will be no slip-ups on your part. I'll go through the whole thing
once and if there are any questions you'll ask them when I'm finished."
The tones of command were so automatic that Jason found himself
listening in quiet obedience. Though one part of his mind wanted him to
smile at the quick assumption of his incompetence.
Kerk swung the car into the steady line of traffic heading out of the
city to the spaceport. He drove easily while he talked.
"There is a search on in the city, but we're well ahead of that. I'm
sure the Cassylians don't want to advertise their bad sportsmanship so
there won't be anything as crude as a roadblock. But the port will be
crawling with every agent they have. They know once the money gets
off-planet it is gone forever. When we make a break for it they will be
sure we still have the goods. So there will be no trouble with the
munition ship getting clear."
Jason sounded a little shocked. "You mean you're setting us up as clay
pigeons to cover the take-off of the ship."
"You could put it that way. But since we have to get off-planet anyway,
there is no harm in using our escape as a smokescreen. Now shut up until
I've finished, like I told you. One more interruption and I dump you by
the road."
* * * * *
Jason was sure he would. He listened intently--and quietly--as Kerk
repeated word for word what he had said before, then continued.
"The official car gate will probably be wide open with the traffic
through it. And a lot of the agents will be in plain clothes. We might
even get onto the field without being recognized, though I doubt it. It
is of no importance. We will drive through the gate and to the take-off
pad. The _Pride of Darkhan_, for which we hold tickets, will be sounding
its two-minute siren and unhooking the gangway. By the time we get to
our seats the ship will take off."
"That's all very fine," Jason said. "But what will the guards be doing
all this time?"
"Shooting at us and each other. We will take advantage of the confusion
to get aboard."
This answer did nothing to settle Jason's mind, but he let it slide for
the moment. "All right--say we _do_ get aboard. Why don't they just
prevent take-off until we have been dragged out and stood against a
wall?"
Kerk spared him a contemptuous glance before he returned his eyes to the
road. "I said the ship was the _Pride of Darkhan_. If you had studied
this system at all, you would know what that means. Cassylia and Darkhan
are sister planets and rivals in every way. It has been less than two
centuries since they fought an intra-system war that almost destroyed
both of them. Now they exist in an armed-to-the-teeth neutrality that
neither dare violate. The moment we set foot aboard the ship we are on
Darkhan territory. There is no extradition agreement between the
planets. Cassylia may want us--but not badly enough to start another
war."
That was all the explanation there was time for. Kerk swung the car out
of the rush of traffic and onto a bridge marked _Official Cars Only_.
Jason had a feeling of nakedness as they rolled under the harsh port
lights towards the guarded gate ahead.
It was closed.
Another car approached the gate from the inside and Kerk slowed their
car to a crawl. One of the guards talked to the driver of the car inside
the port, then waved to the gate attendant. The barrier gate began to
swing inwards and Kerk jammed down on the accelerator.
Everything happened at once. The turbine howled, the spinning tires
screeched on the road and the car crashed open the gate. Jason had a
vanishing glimpse of the open-mouthed guards, then they were skidding
around the corner of a building. A few shots popped after them, but none
came close.
Driving with one hand, Kerk reached under the dash and pulled out a gun
that was the twin of the monster strapped to his arm. "Use this instead
of your own," he said. "Rocket-propelled explosive slugs. Make a great
bang. Don't bother shooting at anyone--I'll take care of that. Just stir
up a little action and make them keep their distance. Like this."
He fired a single, snap-shot out the side window and passed the gun to
Jason almost before the slug hit. An empty truck blew up with a roar,
raining pieces on the cars around and sending their drivers fleeing in
panic.
After that it was a nightmare ride through a madhouse. Kerk drove with
an apparent contempt for violent death. Other cars followed them and
were lost in wheel-raising turns. They careened almost the full length
of the field, leaving a trail of smoking chaos.
Then the pursuit was all behind them and the only thing ahead was the
slim spire of the _Pride of Darkhan_.
* * * * *
The _Pride_ was surrounded by a strong wire fence as suited the
begrudged status of her planetary origin. The gate was closed and
guarded by soldiers with leveled guns, waiting for a shot at the
approaching car. Kerk made no attempt to come near them. Instead he fed
the last reserves of power to the car and headed for the fence. "Cover
your face," he shouted.
Jason put his arms in front of his head just as they hit.
Torn metal screamed, the fence buckled, wrapped itself around the car,
but did not break. Jason flew off the seat and into the padded dash. By
the time Kerk had the warped door open, he realized that the ride was
over. Kerk must have seen the spin of his eyeballs because he didn't
talk, just pulled Jason out and threw him onto the hood of the ruined
car.
"Climb over the buckled wire and make a run for the ship," he shouted.
If there was any doubt what he meant, he set Jason an example of fine
roadwork. It was inconceivable that someone of his bulk could run so
fast, yet he did. He moved more like a charging tank than a man. Jason
shook the fog from his head and worked up some speed himself.
Nevertheless, he was barely halfway to the ship when Kerk hit the
gangway. It was already unhooked from the ship, but the shocked
attendants stopped rolling it away as the big man bounded up the steps.
[Illustration]
At the top he turned and fired at the soldiers who were charging through
the open gate. They dropped, crawled, and returned his fire. Very few
shot at Jason's running form.
The scene in front of Jason cranked over in slow motion. Kerk standing
at the top of the ramp, coolly returning the fire that splashed all
about. He could have found safety in an instant through the open port
behind him. The only reason he stayed there was to cover Jason.
"Thanks--" Jason managed to gasp as he made the last few steps up the
gangway, jumped the gap and collapsed inside the ship.
"You're perfectly welcome," Kerk said as he joined him, waving his gun
to cool it off.
A grim-jawed ship's officer stood back out of range of fire from the
ground and looked them both up and down. "And just what is going on
here?" he growled.
Kerk tested the barrel with a wet thumb, then let the gun slide back
into its holster. "We are law-abiding citizens of a different system who
have committed no criminal acts. The savages of Cassylia are too
barbarous for civilized company. Therefore we are going to Darkhan--here
are our tickets--in whose sovereign territory I believe we are at this
moment." This last was added for the benefit of the Cassylian officer
who had just stumbled to the top of the gangway and was raising his gun.
The soldier couldn't be blamed. He saw these badly wanted criminals
getting away. Aboard a Darkhan ship as well. Anger got the best of him
and he brought his gun up.
"Come out of there, you scum. You're not escaping that easily. Come out
slow with your hands up or I'll blast you--"
It was a frozen moment of time that stretched and stretched without
breaking. The pistol covered Kerk and Jason. Neither of them attempted
to reach for their own guns.
The gun twitched a bit as the ship's officer moved, then steadied back
on the two men. The Darkhan spaceman hadn't gone far, just a pace across
the lock. This was enough to bring him next to a red box set flush with
the wall. With a single, swift gesture he flipped up the cover and
poised his thumb over the button inside. When he smiled his lips peeled
back to show all of his teeth. He had made up his mind, and it was the
arrogance of the Cassylian officer that had been the deciding factor.
"Fire a single shot into Darkhan territory and I press this button," he
shouted. "And you know what this button does--every one of your ships
has them as well. Commit a hostile act against this ship and _someone_
will press a button. Every control rod will be blown out of the ship's
pile at that instant and half your filthy city will go up in the
explosion." His smile was chiseled on his face and there was no doubt he
would do what he said. "Go ahead--fire. I think I would enjoy pressing
this."
The take-off siren was hooting now, the _close lock_ light blinking an
angry message from the bridge. Like four actors in a grim drama they
faced each other an instant more.
Then the Cassylian officer, growling with unvoicable frustrated anger,
turned and leaped back to the steps.
"All passengers board ship. Forty-five seconds to take-off. Clear the
port." The ship's officer slammed shut the cover of the box and locked
it as he talked. There was barely time to make the acceleration couches
before the _Pride of Darkhan_ cleared ground.