"He had to. He wouldn't risk killing some innocent person."
"I don't know," said Jordan. "If you'd said he wouldn't want his pretty
machinery banged up it would be easier to believe."
"I didn't hear anything. We would have if we'd hit."
"It was fast. Could we tell? Maybe Vogel played it safe and had the
inner shell out of the way even if he didn't give us the automatic
signal. In that event it's all right because it would close as soon
as we got out of the way even if we did rip through the outer shell.
All the air wouldn't escape." Jordan sat there for a moment, silently
reviewing his own arguments.
He twisted the lever and the ship leaped forward. "Cameron I don't
mind. He had time to get away and he knew what we were going to do. I
keep thinking Nona _might_ have been there."
"He opened it," said Docchi harshly. "We didn't hit the dome. I didn't
hear anything. Nona wasn't there." His face was gray, there was no
light at all in it. "Come on," he said, walking away.
Jordan rocked back and forth. The hemisphere that held what remained of
his body was suited for it. He set the auto-controls and reduced the
gravity to quarter normal. He bent his arms and shoved himself into the
air, deftly catching a guide rail, swinging along it.
It was pure chance that he glanced toward the back of the ship instead
of forward as he entered the corridor after Docchi. There was a light
blinking at a cabin door.
It was occupied.
4
Jordan caught up before Docchi reached the cargo hold. In lesser
gravity he was more active and could move freely. Now his handicap
was almost unnoticeable, seemed to have disappeared. The same was not
true of Docchi. It required less effort to walk but there was also a
profound unsettling effect that made him cautious and uncertain.
Docchi heard him coming and waited, bracing himself against the wall
in case the gravity should momentarily change. Jordan still carried
the weapon he'd taken from the pilot. It was clipped to the sacklike
garment, dangling from his midsection which, for him, was just below
his shoulders. Down the passageway he came, swinging from the guide
rails with easy grace though the gravity on the ship was as erratic as
on the asteroid.
Jordan halted, hanging on with one hand. "We have a passenger. Someone
we didn't know about."
Docchi stiffened. "Who?" he asked. But the answer was already on
Jordan's face. "Nona," he said in relief. He slumped forward. "How did
she get on?"
"A good question," said Jordan. "But there isn't any answer and never
will be. It's my guess that after she jammed the lights and scanners
in the rocket dome she went to the ship and it looked inviting. So she
went in. She wouldn't let a little thing like a lock that couldn't be
opened stop her."
"It's a good guess," agreed Docchi. "She's exceedingly curious."
"We may as well make the picture complete. Once in the ship she felt
tired. She found a comfortable cabin and fell asleep. She can't hear
anything so our little skirmish with the geepees didn't bother her."
"I can't argue with you. It'll do until a better explanation comes
along."
"But I wish she'd waited a few minutes to take her nap. She'd have
saved us a lot of trouble. She didn't know you'd be able to crawl
through the tubes--and neither did you until you'd actually done it."
"What do you want?" said Docchi. "She did more than we did. We depend
too much on her. Next thing we'll expect her to escort us personally to
the stars."
"I wasn't criticizing her," protested Jordan.
"Maybe not. You've got to remember her mind works differently. It never
occurred to her that we'd have difficulty with something that was so
simple to her. At the same time she's completely unable to grasp our
concepts." He straightened up. "We'd better get going if we don't want
Anti to start yelling."
The cargo hold was sizable. It had to be to hold the tank, which was
now quite battered and twisted. But the tank was sturdily built and
looked as if it would hold together for ages to come. There was some
doubt as to whether the ship would. The wall opposite the ramp was
badly bent where the tank had plowed into it and the storage racks
were demolished. Odds and ends of equipment lay in scattered heaps on
the floor.
"Anti," called Docchi.
"Here."
"Are you hurt?"
"Never felt a thing," came the cheerful reply. It was not surprising;
her surplus flesh was adequate protection against deceleration.
Jordan began to scale the side of the tank, reaching the top and
peering over. "She seems to be all right," he called down. "Part of the
acid's gone. Otherwise there's no damage."
"Of course not," replied Anti. "What did I say?"
It was perhaps more serious than she realized. She might personally
dislike it, but acid was necessary to her life. And some of it had
been splashed from the tank. Where it had spilled metal was corroding
rapidly. By itself this was no cause for alarm. The ship was built for
a multitude of strange environments and the scavenging system would
handle acid as readily as water, neutralizing it and disposing of it
where it would do no harm. But the supply had to be conserved. There
was no more.
"What are you waiting for?" Anti rumbled with impatience. "Get me out
of here. I've stewed in this disgusting soup long enough."
"We were thinking how we could get you out. We'll figure out a way."
"You let me do the thinking. You just get busy. After you left I
decided there must be some way to live outside the tank and of course
when I bent my mind to it there was a way. After all, who knows more
about my condition than me?"
"You're the expert. Tell us what to do."
"Oh I will. All I need from you is no gravity and I'll take care of the
rest. I've got muscles, more than you think. I can walk as long as my
bones don't break from the weight."
Light gravity was bad, none at all was worse for Docchi. Having no arms
he'd be helpless. The prospect of floating free without being able to
grasp anything was terrifying. He forced down his fear. Anti had to
have it and so he could get used to null gravity.
"We'll get around to it," he promised. "Before we do we'll have to
drain and store the acid."
"I don't care what you do with it," said Anti. "All I know is that I
don't want to be in it."
Jordan was already working. He swung off the tank and was busy
expelling water from an auxiliary compartment into space. As soon as
the compartment was empty he led a hose from it to the tank. A pump
vibrated and the acid level in the tank began to fall.
Docchi felt the ship lurch familiarly. The ship was older than he
thought, the gravity generator more out of date. "Hurry," he called to
Jordan.
In time they'd cut it off. But if gravity went out before they were
ready they were in for rough moments. Free floating globes of highly
corrosive acid, scattered throughout the ship by air currents, could be
as destructive as high velocity meteor clusters.
Jordan tinkered with the pump and then jammed the lever as far as it
would go, holding it there. "I think we'll make it," he said above the
screech of the pump. The machinery gasped, but it won. The throbbing
broke into a vacant clatter that betokened the tank was empty. Jordan
had the hose rolled away before the gravity generator let the feeling
of weight trickle off into nothingness.
As soon as she was weightless Anti rose out of the tank.
In all the time Docchi had known her he had seen no more than a
face framed in blue acid. Where it was necessary periodic surgery
had trimmed the flesh away. For the rest, she lived submerged in a
corrosive fluid that destroyed the wild tissue as fast as it grew.
Anyway, nearly as fast.
"Well, junkman, look at a real freak," snapped Anti.
He had anticipated--and he was wrong in what he thought. It was true
humans weren't meant to grow so large, but Jupiter wasn't repulsive
merely because it was the bulging giant of planets. It was unbelievable
and overwhelming when seen close up but it was not obscene. It took
getting used to but he could stand the sight of Anti.
"How long can you live out of the acid?" he stammered.
"Can't live out of it," said Anti loftily. "So I take it with me. If
you weren't as unobservant as most men you'd see how I do it."
"It's a robe of some kind," said Docchi carefully after studying it.
"Exactly. A surgical robe, the only thing I have to my name. Maybe
it's the only garment in the solar system that will fit me. Anyway,
if you've really examined it you'll notice it's made of a spongelike
substance. It holds enough acid to last at least thirty-six hours."
She grasped a rail and propelled herself toward the passageway. For
most people it was spacious enough but not for Anti. However she could
squeeze through. And satellites, one glowing and the other swinging in
an eccentric orbit, followed after the Jupiter of humans.
* * * * *
Nona was standing in front of the instrument panel when they came back.
It was more or less like all panels built since designers first got the
hang of what could really be done with seemingly simple components.
There was a bewildering array of lights, levers, dials, and indicators
in front of her but Nona was interested in none of these. There was a
single small switch and dial, separate from the rest, that held her
complete attention. She seemed disturbed by what she saw or failed to
see. Disturbed or excited, it was difficult to guess which.
Anti stopped. "Look at her. If I didn't know she's as bad as the rest
of us, in fact the only one who was born that way, it would be easy to
hate her. She's disgustingly normal."
There was truth in what Anti said--and yet there wasn't. Surgical
techniques that could take bodies apart and put them together with a
skill once reserved for machines had made beauty commonplace. There
were no more sagging muscles, discolored skin, or wrinkles. Even the
aged were attractive and youthful seeming until the day they died,
and the day after too. There were no more ill-formed limbs, misshapen
bodies, unsightly hair. Everyone was handsome or beautiful. No
exceptions.
The accidentals didn't belong, of course. In another day most of them
would have been employed by a circus--if they had first escaped the
formaldehyde of the specimen bottle.
And Nona didn't belong--doubly. She couldn't be called normal, and she
wasn't a repair job as the other accidentals were. Looked at closely
she was an original as far from the average in one direction as Anti
was in the other.
"What's she staring at?" asked Anti as the others slipped past her into
the compartment. "Is there something wrong with the little dial?"
"That dial has a curious history," said Docchi. "It's not useless, it
just isn't used. Actually it's an indicator for the gravity drive which
at one time was considered fairly promising. It hasn't been removed
because it might come in handy during an extreme emergency."
"But all that extra weight----"
"There's no weight, Anti. The gravity drive is run from the same
generator that supplies passenger gravity. It's very interesting that
Nona should spot it at once. I'm certain she's never been in a control
room before and yet she went straight to it. She may even have some
inkling of what it's for."
Anti dismissed the intellectual feat. "Well, why are you waiting here?
You know she can't hear us. Go stand in front of her."
"How do I get there?" Docchi had risen a few inches now that Jordan
had released his grip. He was free floating and helpless, sort of a
plankton of space.
"A good engineer would have sense to put on magnetics. Nona did." Anti
grasped his jacket. How she was able to move was uncertain. The tissues
that surrounded the woman were too vast to permit the perception of
individual motions. Nevertheless she proceeded to the center of the
compartment and with her came Docchi.
Nona turned before they reached her. "My poor boy," sighed Anti. "If
you're trying to conceal your emotions, that's a very bad job. Anyway,
stop glowing like a rainbow and say something."
It was one time Anti missed. He almost _did_ feel that way and maybe
if she weren't so competent in his own specialty he might have. It was
irritating to study and work for so many years as he had--and then to
be completely outclassed by someone who did neither, to whom certain
kinds of knowledge came so easily it seemed to be inborn. She was
attractive but for him something was missing. "Hello," he said lamely.
Nona smiled at him though it was Anti she went to.
"No, not too close, child. Don't touch the surgery robe unless you want
your pretty face to peel off when you're not looking."
Nona stopped; she was close but she may as well have been miles away.
She said nothing.
Anti shook her head hopelessly. "I wish she'd learn to read lips or at
least recognize words. What can you say to her?"
"She knows facial expressions and actions, I think," said Docchi.
"She's pretty good at emotions too. She falls down when it comes to
words. I don't think she knows there is such a thing."
"Then how does she think?" asked Anti, and answered her own question.
"Maybe she doesn't."
"Let's not be as dogmatic as psychologists have been. We know she does.
What concepts she uses is uncertain. Not verbal, nor mathematical
anyway--she's been tested for that." He frowned puzzledly. "I don't
know what concepts she uses in thinking. I wish I did."
"Save some of the worry for our present situation," said Anti. "The
object of your concern doesn't seem to need it. At least she isn't
interested."
Nona had wandered back to the instrument panel and was staring at the
gravity drive indicator again. There was really nothing there to hold
her attention but her curiosity was insatiable and childlike.
And in many ways she seemed immature. And that led to an elusive
thought: what child was she? Not whose child--what child. Her actual
parents were known, obscure technicians and mechanics, descendants
themselves of a long line of mechanics and technicians. Not one notable
or distinguished person among them, her family was decently unknown to
fame or misfortune in every branch--until she'd come along. And what
was her place, according to heredity? Docchi didn't know but he didn't
share the official medical view.
With an effort Docchi stopped thinking about Nona. "We appealed to the
medicouncilor," he said. "We asked for a ship to go to the nearest
star, a rocket, naturally. Even allowing for a better design than we
now have the journey will take a long time--forty or fifty years going
and the same time back. That's entirely too long for a normal crew, but
it wouldn't matter to us. You know what the Medicouncil did with that
request. That's why we're here."
"Why rockets?" interrupted Jordan. "Why not some form of that gravity
drive you were talking about? Seems to me for travel over a long
distance it would be much better."
"As an idea it's very good," said Docchi. "Theoretically there's no
upper limit to the gravity drive except the velocity of light and even
that's questionable. If it would work the time element could be cut in
fractions. But the last twenty years have proved that gravity drives
don't work at all outside the solar system. They work very well close
to the sun, start acting up at the orbit of Venus and are no good at
all from Earth on out."
"Why don't they?" asked Jordan. "You said they used the same generator
as passenger gravity. Those work away from the sun."
"Sure they do," said Docchi impatiently. "Like ours is working now?
Actually ship internal gravity is more erratic than we had on the
asteroid, and that's hardly reliable. For some reason the drive is
always worse than passenger gravity. Don't ask me why. If I knew I
wouldn't be on Handicap Haven. Arms or no arms, biocompensator or not,
I'd be the most important scientist on Earth."
"With multitudes of women competing for your affections," said Anti.
"I think he'd settle for one," suggested Jordan.
"Poor unimaginative man," said Anti. "When I was young I was not so
narrow in my outlook."
"We've heard about your youth," said Jordan. "I don't believe very much
of it."
"Talk about your youth and love affairs privately if you want but spare
us the details. Especially now, since there are more important things
to attend to." Docchi glowered at them. "Anyway the gravity drive is
out," he resumed. "At one time they had hopes for it but no longer. The
present function of the generator is to provide gravity _inside_ the
ship, for passenger comfort. Nothing else.
"So it is a rocket ship, slow and clumsy but reliable. It'll get us
there. The Medicouncil refused us and so we'll have to go higher."
"I'm all for it," said Anti. "How do we get higher?"
"We've discussed it before," answered Docchi. "The Medicouncil is
responsible to the Solar Government, and in turn Solar has been known
to yield to devious little pressures."
"Or not so devious great big pressures. Fine. I'm in favor," said Anti.
"I just wanted to be sure."
"Mars is close," continued Docchi. "But Earth is more influential.
Therefore I recommend it." His voice trailed off and he stopped and
listened, listened.
Anti listened too but the sound was too faint for her hearing. "What's
the matter?" she said. "I think you're imagining things."
Jordan leaned forward in his seat and examined the instrument panel
carefully before answering. "That's the trouble, Anti. You're not
supposed to _hear_ it, but you should be able to feel vibrations as
long as the rocket's on."
"I don't feel it either."
"I know," said Jordan, looking at Docchi. "I can't understand. There's
plenty of fuel."
* * * * *
The momentum of the ship carried it along after the rockets stopped
firing. They were still moving but not very fast and not in the
direction they ultimately had to go. Gingerly Docchi tried out the
magnetic shoes. He was clumsy but no longer helpless in the gravityless
ship. He stared futilely at the instruments as if he could wring out
more secrets than the panel had electronic access to.
"It's mechanical trouble of some sort," he said uneasily. "I don't know
where to begin."
Before he could get to it Anti was in the passageway that led from the
control compartment. "Course I'm completely ignorant," she said. "Seems
to me we ought to start with the rocket tubes and trace the trouble
from there."
"I was going to," said Docchi. "You stay here, Anti. I'll see what's
wrong."
She reached nearly from the floor to the ceiling. She missed by scant
inches the sides of the corridor. Locomotion was easy for her, turning
around wasn't. So she didn't turn. "Look, honey," her voice floated
back. "You brought me along for the ride. That's fine. I'm grateful but
I'm not satisfied with just that. Seems to me I've got to earn my fare.
You stay and run the ship. You and Jordan know how. I don't. I'll find
out what's wrong."
"But you won't know what to do."
"I don't have to. You don't have to be a mechanic to see something's
broken. I'll find it, and when I do you can come and fix it."
He knew when it was useless to argue with her. "We'll both go," he
said. "Jordan will stay at the controls."
It was a dingy poorly lighted passageway in an older ship. Handicap
Haven didn't rate the best equipment that was being produced, and even
when it was new the ship had been no prize. On one side of the corridor
was the hull of the ship; on the other a few small cabins. None were
occupied. Anti stopped. The long hall ended in a cross corridor that
led to the other side of the ship where a return passage led back to
the control compartment.
"We'll check the stern tubes," he said, still unable to see around her.
"Open the door and we'll look in."
"Can't," said Anti. "Tried to but the handle won't turn. There's a red
light too. Does it mean anything?"
He'd expected something like this but nevertheless his heart sank now
that he was actually confronted with it. "It does. Don't try again.
With your strength you might be unlucky enough to open the door."
"There's a man for you," said Anti. "First you tell me to open it and
then you don't want me to."
"There's no air in the rear compartment, Anti. The combustion chamber's
been retracted--that's why the rockets stopped firing. The air rushed
out into space as soon as it happened. That's what the red light means."
"We'd all die if I opened it now?"
"We would."
"Then let's get busy and fix it."
"We will. But we've got to make sure it doesn't happen again. You see,
it wasn't accidental. Someone, or something, was responsible."
"Are you sure?"
"Very sure. Did you see anyone while we were loading your tank in the
ship?"
"Nothing. How could I? I heard Cameron shouting, other noise. But I
couldn't see a thing that wasn't directly overhead, and there wasn't
anything."
"I thought so. A geepee _could_ have got in without anyone seeing him.
I didn't count them but I was certain all of them had dropped outside.
I was mistaken; one of them didn't."
"Why does it have to be a geepee?"
"It just does, Anti. The combustion chamber was retracted while we were
all in the control compartment. We didn't do it and therefore it had to
be someone back here.
"No man is strong enough to retract the cap, but if he somehow exerted
superhuman effort, as soon as the chamber cleared the tubes rocket
action would cease and the air in the compartment would exhaust into
space."
"So we have a dead geepee in the rocket compartment."
"A geepee doesn't die or even become inactive. Lack of air doesn't
hinder it in the least. Not only that, a geepee might be able to
escape from the compartment. It's strong and fast enough to open the
door against the pressure and get out and close it again in less than
a second. We wouldn't notice it because the ship would automatically
replenish the small amount of air that would escape."
Anti settled down grimly. "Then there's a geepee on the loose, intent
on wrecking us?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Then what are we standing around for? All we have to do is go back to
the controls and pick up the robot on the radio. We'll make it go in
there and repair the damage it's done."
She partly turned around and saw Docchi's face. "Don't tell me," she
said, "I should have thought of it. The radio doesn't work inside the
ship."
Docchi nodded reluctantly. "It doesn't. Robots are never used aboard
and so the emergency band is broadcast by the bow antenna. The hull of
the ship is a pretty good insulation."
"Ain't that nice?" said Anti happily. "We've got a robot hunt ahead of
us."
"And our bare hands to hunt it with."
"Oh come. It's not as hopeless as that. Look, the robot was back here
when the rockets stopped. It couldn't get by the control compartment
without our seeing it."
"That's right. There are two corridors leading through the compartment,
one on each side of the ship."
"That's what I mean. We came down one and there wasn't any geepee. So
it's got to be in the other. If it goes in a cabin a light will shine
outside. It can't hide from us."
"I don't doubt we'll find it. But what'll we do then?"
"I was thinking," said Anti. "Can you get past me when I'm standing
like this?"
"No."
"That's what I thought. Neither can a geepee. All I need is a toaster,
or something that looks like it. I'll drive the robot forward and
Jordan can burn it down." Determinedly she began to move toward the far
corridor. "Hurry back to Jordan and tell him. There ought to be another
weapon on the ship. Should be one for the pilot to use. Bring it back
to me."
Docchi bit his lip and stared at the back of the huge woman. He knew
Anti, and when it was useless to argue with her. "All right," he
answered. "Stay here though. Don't try anything until I get a toaster
for you."
The magnetics on his feet were no substitute for gravity. Docchi
couldn't move fast, no human could. He had time to think as he went
along but nothing better suggested itself. A toaster for Jordan and
another for Anti--if there was another.
And Anti would block the passageway. A geepee might go through her but
it could never squeeze past. The robot would try to get away. If it
came toward Anti she might disable it. But she would be firing directly
into the control compartment. And if she missed even partially--well,
the instruments were delicate.
But Jordan might get the chance to bring down the robot. Then Anti
would be in the line of fire. No matter how he looked at it, Docchi
was sure the plan was unworkable. They'd have to devise something else.
"Jordan," called Docchi as soon as he got there; but Jordan wasn't
in sight. Nona was, still gazing serenely at the gravity indicator.
Nothing seemed capable of breaking through the shell that surrounded
her.
Light was streaming from the opposite corridor. Docchi hurried over.
Jordan was just inside the entrance, the toaster clutched grimly in his
hand. He was hitching his truncated body slowly toward the stern.
Coming to meet him was Anti--unarmed enormous Anti. She hadn't meant
to wait for the weapon--she was pretty certain there wasn't any--she
had merely wanted to get him out of the way. And she wasn't walking;
somehow it seemed more like swimming, a bulbous huge sea animal moving
through the air. She waved what resembled fins against the wall, with
them propelling herself forward. "Melt it down," she cried.
It was difficult to make out the vaguely human form of the geepee.
The powerful shining body blended in with the structure of the
ship--unintentional camouflage, though the robot wasn't aware of it. It
crouched at the threshold of a cabin, hesitating between approaching
dangers.
Jordan raised the weapon and lowered it with the same motion. "Get out
of the way." He gestured futilely to Anti.
There was no place she could go. She was too big to enter a cabin, too
massive to let the robot squeeze by even if she wanted. "Never mind.
Get him," she called.
The geepee wasn't a genius even by robot standards. But it did know
that heat is deadly and that a human body is a fragile thing. And so it
ran toward Anti. Unlike humans it didn't need special magnetics; such
a function was built into it and the absence or presence of gravity
disturbed it not at all. It moved very fast.
Docchi had to watch though he didn't want to. The robot exploded into
action, launching its body at Anti. But it was the robot that was
thrown back. It had calculated swiftly but incorrectly--relative mass
favored the enormous woman.
The electronic brain obeyed the original instructions, whatever they
were. It got up and rushed Anti again. Metal arms shot out with
dazzling speed and crashed against the flesh of the huge woman. Docchi
could hear the rattle of blows. No ordinary person could take that
punishment and live.
But Anti wasn't ordinary. Even for an accidental she was strange,
living far inside a deep armor of flesh. It was possible she never felt
the crushing force of those blows. And she didn't turn away, try to
escape. Instead she reached out and grasped the robot, drawing it to
her. And the geepee lost another advantage, leverage. The bright arms
didn't flash so fast nor with such lethal power.
"Gravity," cried Anti. "Give me all you've got."
Her strategy was obvious; she was leaning against the struggling
machine. And here at least Docchi could help her. He turned and took
two steps before the surge hit him. Gravity came in waves, each one
greater than that before. The first impulse staggered him, and at the
second his knees buckled and he sank to the floor. After that his
eardrums hurt and he thought he could feel the ship quiver. He knew
dazedly that an artificial gravity field of this magnitude had never
been attained--but the knowledge didn't help him move. He was powerless
in the force that held him.
And it vanished as quickly as it had come. Painfully his lungs
expanded, each muscle aching individually. He rolled over and got up,
lurching past Jordan.
Anti wasn't the inert broken flesh he expected. Already she was moving
and was standing up by the time he got to her. "Oof," she grunted,
gazing with satisfaction at the twisted shape at her feet. It was past
repair, the body dented and arms and legs bent, the head smashed, the
electronic brain in it completely useless.
"Are you hurt?" asked Docchi in awe.
She waggled the extremities and waited as if for the signal to travel
through the nerves. "Nope," she said finally. "Can't feel anything
broken. Would have been if I'd tried to stand." She moved back to get a
better view of the robot. "That's throwing my weight around," she said
with satisfaction. "At the right time in the right way. The secret's
timing. And I must say you took the cue well." Her laughter rolled
through the ship.
"I didn't have anything to do with the gravity," said Docchi.
"Who? Jordan--no, he's just getting up."
"Nona," said Docchi. "She was the only one who wasn't doing anything
else. She saw what had to be done and got to it before I did. But I
can't figure out how she got so much gravity."
"Ask her," said Anti.
Docchi grimaced, limping into the control room, followed by Anti
and Jordan. Nona was at the gravity panel, her face pleasant and
unconcerned.
The unprecedented power of the gravity field could be accounted for,
of course. The ship was old and had seen much use. Connections were
loose or broken and had somehow crossed, circuiting more power into
the gravity generator than it was designed for. Miraculously it had
held up for a brief time--and that was all there was to it. And yet the
explanation failed to be completely satisfactory. "I wonder if you had
anything to do with it," he said to her. Nona smiled questioningly.
"Had to, didn't she?" said Jordan. "She was the only one who could have
turned it on."
"Started it, yes. Increased the power of the field, I don't know," said
Docchi. He outlined what he thought had taken place.
"That sounds logical," agreed Jordan. "But it doesn't matter how it was
done. Gravity engineers would find it interesting. If we had time I'd
like to see how the circuits are crossed. We might discover something
new."
"I'm sure it's interesting," said Anti irritably. "Interesting to
everybody but me. And I'm pragmatic. All I want to know is: when do we
start the rockets? We've got a long way to go."
"There's something that comes before that, Anti," said Jordan. "A
retracted combustion cap in flight generally means at least one burned
out tube." He made his way to the instruments, checking them glumly.
"This time it's three."
"You forgot something yourself, Jordan," said Docchi. "I was thinking
of the robot."
"I thought we'd settled _that_," said Anti impatiently.
"We have. But let's follow it through. Where did the robot get
instructions? Not from Vogel via the radio. The ship's hull cuts off
that band. And the last we knew it was in our control."
"Voice," said Jordan. "We freed it. Someone else could take it over."
"Who?" said Anti. "None of us."
"No. But think back to when we were loading the tank. We saw it through
the telecom and the angle of vision was bad. You couldn't see anything
that wasn't directly overhead. Not only the robot but Cameron also
managed to get inside."
Jordan hefted the weapon. "So we've got another hunt on our hands. Only
this time it's in our favor. Nothing I like better than aiming at a
nice normal doctor."
Docchi glanced at the weapon. "Take it along. But don't use it. A
homicide would ruin us. We could forget what we're going for. Anyway,
you won't actually need it. The ship's temporarily disabled and he'll
consider that damage enough. He'll be ready to surrender."
He was.
5
The doctor was at ease, confident. "You've got the ship and you've
caught me. How long do you think you can keep either of us?"
Docchi regarded him levelly. "I don't expect active cooperation but I'd
like to think you'll give us your word not to hinder us hereafter."