"Pandit?"
He took her arm in the darkness. She couldn't see him. They went to the
crates and wrestled one on their trundle-sled.
"Not the open one?" Sria gasped.
"No. No."
They heard footsteps.... Saw a figure for a moment silhouetted against
starlight. Handus was fleeing, probably for help.
They took their sled out into the night and dragged it across the sand
toward their waiting jet. They loaded the crate in the cargo bay. While
Pandit was finishing the job in the darkness, Sria sat down at the
controls.
"Ready?" she shouted above the whine of the jets.
Pandit said that he was. She hardly heard his voice.
A moment later, she took the small cargo jet up.
* * * * *
She heard Pandit moving in the small cabin behind her. She said: "We
ought to take it to the League authorities, don't you think?" She had to
shout to be heard above the whining roar of the jets.
"Why?"
"I was able to read the writing. It's Procyonian, Pandit. Do you know
anything about the Procyonians?"
"Well, a few centuries ago, they were the most warlike people in the
galaxy. It was rumored they had a cache of thermonuclear bombs hidden
somewhere, after such weapons were outlawed in the twenty-fifth century.
The cache was never found, until tonight. We found it, Pandit."
"But Orkap and--"
"That's true. It was found by the Denebians first. Don't you see,
Pandit? Orkap and the others, private Denebian traders. It wasn't the
government. It never is the government these days. But unscrupulous
individuals, Pandit, armed with two dozen hydrogen bombs--why, they
could take over their own world on threat of imminent destruction, or
some outworld plum they had their eye on, or--"
"I see." Pandit's voice was barely audible above the whine of the jets.
"It's a job the Galactic League can handle," Sria went on. "Now that
it's out in the open--or will be as soon as we get to the spacefield.
You've done your work, Pandit, and your people won't forget you for it.
As for me, my work here is finished too."
"Your work?"
Above the roar of the jet, Sria shouted: "Yes. I am Johnny Mayhem." She
smiled in the darkness. Johnny Mayhem, she thought, in a girl's body.
Well, he'd been young men and old, weak and strong, sick and healthy,
human and alien outworlder--so why not a girl too?
* * * * *
All at once Pandit's hand lay heavily on her shoulder. She turned around
and in the darkness but with the lights of the instrument board on it
saw the gleam of a knife blade. The face beyond the blade, leering from
darkness, was not Pandit's. She hadn't actually known it was Pandit. She
hadn't seen him. She'd hardly been able to hear his voice.
It was Raj Shiva.
"Fly us to Denebian Exports," he said, "or I'll kill you and do it
myself."
"You're making a mistake. Your people belong with the Galactic League,
not with a handful of adventurers who--"
"The Denebians are right," Raj Shiva said fanatically. "My people would
be better off left alone."
"I'm flying this jet to the spaceport--and the League."
"I'll kill you. I know all about you, Mayhem. You're not a woman,
really. You're not even a native. That's a dead body, isn't it? But if I
kill it--again--while you're in it, you die to. You'll do what I say!"
* * * * *
This very night, unless something was done about it, the cache of
thermonuclear weapons would be space-bound, the first hydrogen bombs
loose in the galaxy for almost five hundred years. Wouldn't mankind ever
begin to learn? Mayhem-Sria thought wearily. He knew the answer, of
course: most men would, but the few who refused could bring destruction
to an entire galaxy....
Moments before, apparent success of a mission. Now, failure. Or death.
Or both.
Sria's hand flashed out suddenly and struck the instrument board. The
jet plummeted earthward with a loud whining sound. Sria felt herself
shoved back by the tremendous acceleration into the cushions of the
pilot chair. She heard a wild exclamation from Raj Shiva, but couldn't
turn around to see what had happened. Grim-lipped, she kept the ship
hurtling Earthward. She knew it was dangerous and might even prove
disastrous. Her body could take so much, then she would black out. But
if she didn't maintain the dive until the last possible instant, Raj
Shiva would get control of the ship and its vital cargo. She was only a
girl, but she was protected by the crash-padding of the pilot chair. Raj
Shiva, unprotected, was behind her somewhere....
Down through the thin upper atmosphere of Ophiuchus IX screamed the
small ship, its heat-dial blinking on and off in warning as friction
scorched its thin shell. The scream of air became more deep-throated as
the atmosphere became thicker....
Ten thousand feet.
Eight thousand.
Six.
Sria's eyes saw black. Her breath was labored. Needles of pain darted in
her skull, plucked at her eyes. She opened her mouth to scream but heard
nothing. She felt as if she must be forced clear through the protective
cushions of the pilot chair.
Five thousand feet.
Four thousand.
Blackness and peace and a settling lassitude....
Three thousand feet.
With hands that would barely function, Sria with supreme effort brought
the jet out of its death-dive. She slumped in the pilot chair for a long
time, too weak to do anything else.
Then she looked back at Raj Shiva.
Who lay slack and unconscious against the rear bulkhead of the cargo
ship.
* * * * *
Mayhem-Sria brought the jet down and, middle of the night or no, saw
Kovandaswamy. Raj Shiva was taken into custody. A jet was sent out,
loaded with Leaguemen who had proved immune to the guru death-wish and
all armed to the teeth. It landed at the cache and stood guard over it.
Pandit was found, unconscious, one of his arms broken, but otherwise all
right. A second jet prevented the Denebian Export ship from blasting off
with the hydrogen bombs already loaded. Orkap and his companion were
taken into custody.
The rest, of course, is history. The gurus of Ophiuchus IX were shown
what had been taking place in the name of friendship between themselves
and Deneb and in the name of isolation. Most of the gurus retired
entirely from active life. The few who did not spent the rest of their
days working for cooperation between Ophiuchus and the rest of the
Galactic League. Orkap and his companion were sent back to Deneb for
punishment.
* * * * *
Two weeks later, Kovandaswamy shook Sria's hand.
"A girl," he said. "You did it as a girl. I still can't believe it. But
then, of such stuff is the Mayhem legend made."
Mayhem smiled. Already the Hub had a new assignment for him. He could
feel the old excitement, the wonder, stirring him. He smiled again and
told Kovandaswamy: "Better not tell that fellow Pandit. I think he had a
crush on Sria."