"Farian jade!" Archer echoed. "I've heard of it. Plenty valuable, isn't
it?"
Dr. Grimwood nodded. "Fabulously. There are only a few hundred pieces
known to exist, and their combined value could purchase a fair-sized,
habitable planet!"
Evans' normally wide, dark eyes were bulging myopically. "Do you think
these guys stole it?"
"Hard to say," said the doctor. "But, putting two and two together, it
looks more like they made a find somewhere back on the planet. If so,
there should be more of the stuff around, or some information--" He
felt about in the dead man's clothing, and presently pulled some papers
from an inner pocket.
"Here we are!" he said, unfolding them. "The Farian coordinates, a
rough topographical map of the region, and written directions. They
must have struck it rich--a find of only a dozen pieces could be worth
twenty million dollars. They possibly decided to take out only a few
pieces at a time and pass them off as stolen goods elsewhere in the
system, legal protection being of dubious effectiveness where Farian
jade is involved. But it was evidently too big a strike for their
psyches to withstand."
Stokely stepped from the open hatch, his eyes fixed on the jewel in
Dr. Grimwood's hand. He reached for it, held it up and studied it at
several angles, then passed it back, his face inscrutable throughout
the actions.
"It's about the only gem that can't be synthesized, isn't it?" he asked
the doctor.
"Yes--that's the main reason for its enormous value. And it's my guess
that it couldn't be synthesized for a long time even if we knew a lot
more about it than we do. The reason we don't know much is absurdly
simple: the stuff is just too damned expensive for a mere scientist
to be permitted more than superficial analysis. But we do know this:
synthesizing it would be tantamount to creating life."
"Don't look now," Will Archer interrupted calmly, "but there's a
sizable planet breathing down our necks. So if you gentlemen would
retire to your respective stations, I can guarantee to add considerable
weight to the discussion."
* * * * *
"Not that the stuff is really alive, in any accepted sense," Dr.
Grimwood went on a few minutes later, his breathing somewhat labored,
but his enthusiasm not altogether squelched by three hundred and fifty
added pounds. "But it certainly isn't jade at all, or anything similar.
That misnomer has stuck because of its greenish glow--although if you
examine it under a very strong light, it appears dead black. Actually,
it's a microbiotic crystalline formation, the result of some age-long
process believed to be conducted by a virus-like life-form. The 'jade'
itself seems to be a borderline structure, having no obvious properties
of life--yet there is the contradictory cold light, or bioluminescence,
which would indicate some degree of electrochemical change. I'm not a
bio-chemist myself, but I'll tell you there are one or two fellows on
the other ship who would cut all our throats, in a charmingly objective
manner, in order to lay their hands on this bauble. Some think that
Farian jade may very possibly hold the secret of life itself."
With an effort, the doctor lifted his hand high enough so that, without
altering his reclining position, he could peer over his own chin at
the jewel. Archer found his eyes held by it almost hypnotically, as it
pulsated through the gamut of hues, now blending, now contrasting with
the dominant green.
"From what I've heard," said Archer, "the virus, or whatever makes it,
is pretty deadly to humans. Is it true that you can't even tell you're
infected until the final convulsions?"
"In effect, yes," replied Dr. Grimwood. "Although if you're exposed
to it, which means stumbling across one of the rare and unpredictable
localities where the jade is found, the chances are about four out of
five that you will be infected. The fifth person, for some inexcusably
unknown reason, seems to be immune. But there is one symptom that
occurs with some punctuality three and a half hours after exposure, and
about 15 minutes before the convulsions: it's a bodily glow, or aura,
due to some bioluminescent substance saturating the tissues.
"However, it is so faint that it can be seen only in the dark, and then
not by the victim himself, since it shows up only in contrast to a dark
background. I think that is the explanation of the fact that we found
all the lights out when we boarded this ship."
"You mean," said Archer, with some alarm, "that fellow might have died
of the virus infection--in this chair?"
Dr. Grimwood smiled slightly. "Don't worry. In the first place,
he didn't have it--he only thought he did. And if he had, you
couldn't catch it, even minus your pressure-suit. The malady is not
transmissible among humans. I almost wish it were, since we would have
been obliged to learn a great deal more about it than we have."
"You say he thought he had it--was the stuff in the hypodermic some
kind of antidote, then?"
"Undoubtedly," said the doctor. "And since there is only one antidote
known, it explains what happened to the rest of the jade they brought
along."
"That's right!" exclaimed Archer. "I remember having heard that now.
The jade itself is the only antidote. But then--why did he die?"
"Because," said Dr. Grimwood, "the antitoxin, where the infection has
not occurred, is a deadly and swift poison."
* * * * *
The doctor paused, then spoke bitterly: "There is some reason for
believing that the jade, or end-product, might be rendered non-toxic
in itself--if it were obtainable for experimentation. But it's not.
They'll inject the stuff in their own skins to save same--one wealthy
woman even mixed herself a million-dollar martini in order to commit
suicide--but when it comes to turning over the smallest fragment to a
laboratory, even billionaire philanthropists are restrained by their
wives. And the specimens are never cut or ground since it wouldn't
enhance their luminescence, so there aren't even any scraps for the
hungry researcher.
"Anyhow, my guess is that these prospectors started off with their
samples not too long after exposure. They could have been well out
of the atmosphere before the three-and-a-half hour deadline. As it
approached, they evidently killed the lights in order to watch each
other for the symptomatic aura. Even though the probability was pretty
high of at least one of them being infected, they most likely wouldn't
have prepared any of the precious solution in advance. Fortunately, it
doesn't take long---you merely dissolve a minimum of ten carats in a
little alcohol, and it's ready to inject.
"The fellow who was later killed must have developed the aura and been
told about it in good faith, because I saw the needle-mark on his
arm. Then came trouble. The other fellow happened to be one of the 20
percent minority who are immune. He failed to show the symptom, but
suspected his colleague of lying about it. He probably kept him covered
with his gun while he cut the power so that even the control lights
would be out. Then he tried to tell by the reflection of his naked
torso in the observation ports whether he had the fatal glow. It must
have been a tense and ironic situation.
"Whether he was deceived by a diffusion of sunlight in the heavy
vitreon or by his own taut nervous system, he evidently fancied he saw
the aura, and shot his comrade in a fit of rage. Then he turned the
equally fatal hypodermic on himself."
* * * * *
Although the four men were still in radio contact, having decided to
keep their pressure-suits on until the air "cleared," nobody spoke for
a while. Archer lolled his leaden cranium sideways on its rest, to see
the rim of the planet looming hugely in the side ports. The ship would
be reaching the near-point in another hour.
"They must have been pushing off at well over two G," he said, "for
their momentum to have carried them out as far as it did. They made a
big loop."
Dr. Grimwood smiled wryly. "I imagine they were impatient. How would
you feel with a negotiable fortune as a cargo?"
"You might say," returned Archer, "how _do_ I feel? That leftover
you're holding must be 30 or 40 carats. I'll be glad enough to turn it
over to the company and let them find out about salvage rights, if any.
Frankly, I'm just a little afraid of the stuff. Its value seems to be
of slightly lethal proportions."
"True," sighed the doctor, "but there's a great temptation to stop off
at that find and sneak a hunk of it for some friends of mine. They'd
get a bigger kick out of pulverizing it with a mallet than they would
buying castles on Arcturus IV."
Under the onus of triple weight, the hour that followed seemed much
longer. At last the ship cleared the dangerous fringe of atmosphere by
a good thousand miles, and Archer aimed her nose at the retreating rim
of the planet, reducing deceleration to a very tolerable 1.5 G.
"We'll swing pretty wide," he said to the others. "It'll be nine or ten
hours before we get back in at a safe speed. If you fellows don't mind,
I'm going to shuck this suit and catch a nap right here in this chair.
I'm all in. I'd advise you, Stokely, to do the same. We may need to be
on our toes later--this job won't practically land itself like the one
we're used to!"
* * * * *
A few hours later, Will Archer was pacing a broad marble courtyard
inlaid with Farian jade, in a kingly castle on Arcturus IV, when a
rough hand on his shoulder shook him awake. It was Stokely, with his
gun in his hand and an ugly smile on his rather handsome, freckled
face. He motioned derisively toward Dr. Grimwood, who was bound
securely to his chair.
"I can't figure the doctor out," said Stokely. "I thought he made a
wonderful suggestion about stopping off and picking up some more jade,
but now that I've invited him, he doesn't want to go."
Archer had discarded his own gun with his pressure-suit and was
chagrined to see it now in its holster at Stokely's waist. He groaned
inwardly, cursing his sleeping intuition for not having warned him.
In looking back, he realized now that there had been more to Stokely's
reactions than mere awe at the sight of a fabulous gem. And there was
something else--Stokely, though a first-rate engineer, had been washed
out as a Space Guard cadet on psychological grounds. He was quite sane,
but too individualistic--his social and cooperative indices had been
low. Captain Rogan had known of his record, of course--but he had not
known what would be found on this ship, and what effect it would have
on Stokely.
But what about Evans? Archer turned in his chair and saw the slightly
built man standing a little nervously in back of him, holding what must
be the dead prospector's gun.
Archer bit his lip. Not much was known of Evans, since he had been with
them only two trips, and his responsibilities as an ordinary crewman
had not been great. Archer judged him as a none-too-bright individual
who would never undertake such a bold venture on his own initiative,
but who might go to considerable lengths under strong leadership.
Well, he had that in Stokely, whose pale blue eyes had a reckless and
determined look about them.
"Are you with us?" demanded Stokely. "I could probably pull this off
without you, but it'll be easier with you. Because you're a damned good
pilot even if you are the Captain's fair-haired boy. What do you say?
Not that we'll trust you very far, either way. Evans and I keep the
guns. You'll have to string along part way, anyhow--if you want to come
all the way, there's a fortune in it for you."
Archer unsnapped his safety belt and got to his feet, flexing his lean
limbs, which were cramped from the many hours of confinement. As he
faced Stokely, their eyes were on a level, although the pink-haired man
would have run a good 30 pounds heavier--or, at the moment, 45.
"What guarantee," asked Archer in a dull voice, "would I have of that?"
"My say so, mostly," Stokely admitted evenly. "But I can use a pilot,
not only now but later. After we grab the stuff, the first thing we'll
need is another ship--and Faria won't be the place to look for it. When
we get it, we'll get rid of this one. That's where you come in."
"How do you plan to do it?"
"Very simple. Charge it up to the hilt, set her course straight out
of the system and let her go at about two G. It won't come back for a
thousand years, at least. The company will figure something happened to
it on this trip after we managed to miss the planet, and we couldn't
get back. I thought of cracking it up on Faria, but somebody might
spot it hitting the air, and the time would be way off. This way is
better--we just got lost in space. With nobody looking for us on IX,
it'll be a cinch to get out of the system from the interstellar base.
"After that--we can go buy that nice planet the doctor was talking
about."
* * * * *
Archer scarcely heard the latter part of Stokely's speech, except to
visualize briefly the ironic situation in which a pilot named Archer
would change ships in mid-space--or start to. The important question
was whether there was anything to be gained by pretending to throw in
with the conspirators. Stokely, like most people who find it difficult
to appreciate a different viewpoint, should be easy enough to deceive.
It might mean a gain of considerable time--for Archer.
But what about Dr. Grimwood? There seemed to be no place for him in
Stokely's scheme, after locating the jade, except perhaps the storage
compartment with the two prospectors. Once Stokely had disposed of the
doctor, he would undoubtedly require less of an excuse to do the same
with Archer--and eventually Evans, in all probability.
There was a chance, however, that if Stokely found himself stoutly
opposed by both Dr. Grimwood and Archer, he might hesitate to kill them
both out of hand, at least until he could be certain of finding the
jade deposit. Double murder is a long step for a man with no previous
criminal record.
Archer made his decision.
"You can count me out," he said flatly, watching Stokely's face for a
reaction. "That badlands where the find is supposed to be is a tough
place to land a ship, so I'll put her down on behalf of all of us--but
also on the condition that you'll release Dr. Grimwood and myself
immediately. It'll take us weeks to reach civilization, _if_ we're
lucky. That ought to give you all the time you need. But I want your
guarantee--otherwise, I'll have nothing to lose by trying to cross you
up, if it kills us all."
The bluff evidently carried a certain amount of purely psychological
weight, for Stokely seemed a little taken aback, and his blustering
smile lacked full confidence.
"Honest Will Archer!" he said scornfully. "The pride of the company!
You're in a hell of a position to bargain!" He went on in a more
serious tone: "But it sounds good enough. You get us down, the doctor
helps us find the jade--he's the only one who knows much about the
stuff--and then the two of you can start out. Who knows--you might even
make it!" He grinned.
It sounded as if--at the moment--Stokely regarded the proposition as
an easy way out for himself. For Archer and the doctor, it would not
be so easy. There would be at least two hundred miles of fearfully
rugged terrain, infested by predatory and poisonous animals, insects
and plants. It would be both hot and dangerous to travel by day--and
downright foolhardy by night. And even this dim prospect depended on
the slight scruples of a thoroughly egocentric individual.
It was not enough. Archer resolved to keep his faculties on the alert
for any loophole that might occur.
* * * * *
But Stokely's vigilance had not slackened when, hours later, they
approached the atmosphere at a speed slightly greater than that of the
planet's rotation, and within an estimated five hundred miles of the
coordinates shown on the dead men's chart. Stokely left Evans in Dr.
Grimwood's chair, with the strict injunction not to remove his eyes
from Archer, and took the doctor with him to the engine compartment.
Thereafter, Archer was obliged to give his entire attention to
the business of angling the ship sharply into the atmosphere and
opposing its thrust to the resultant of deceleration, gravity and
air resistance, a function which was only semi-automatic, and needed
constant correction.
The first landmark shown on the map, a jagged and mighty canyon,
presently appeared between scattered clouds below. Archer set the
ship's angle nearer to the horizontal, allowing gravity to pull it into
a steeper descent.
The next landmark, a crescent-shaped range of sawtooth mountains near
the far end of the canyon, showed up plainly, since shadows were
lengthening across the face of the planet. A dozen valleys meandered
off from the hills in a southerly direction and Archer aimed for the
fourth from the south.
At last, one third of its length from the south end of the valley, the
ship stood over the spot corresponding to the X-mark on the map and
settled slowly on its jets. According to the scrawled notation, the
jade deposit would be not more than half a mile away, near the valley's
east wall.
Archer delayed the impatient Stokely long enough to provide Dr.
Grimwood and himself with packs of food and water from the ship's
stores, trading on the doctor's promise to help locate the jade. Once
it was found, Archer did not intend to remain at Stokely's mercy long
enough to return to the ship.
All four of the men donned their pressure-suits, primarily as a barrier
against the deadly "jade" virus, but incidentally as a protection from
all manner of unpleasant insects and tentacular, stinging plants. Also,
there was an abundance of scurrying, cold-blooded little horrors,
reminiscent of Terran reptiles or batrachians, but by those standards
grotesquely misshapen.
Vega VII was a planet whose surface had been prematurely desiccated by
a broiling sun, although there was still considerable water available
in underground lakes, but the excess of hard radiation had spurred
evolutionary processes to improbable extremes.
Just now, the outsized, glaring white orb was low in the sky and the
temperature was becoming tolerable. Before morning, in this dry air, it
would probably drop far below freezing.
* * * * *
Stokely made Archer and the doctor walk ahead, at a difficult pace over
the rough ground. They went willingly, however, since failure to find
the jade in the next hour or so would mean spending the whole night in
untrustworthy company.
The final fixing of the location was accomplished by aligning the tip
of a rocky promontory resembling a human nose with a farther peak and
walking directly away from it until a small ravine was encountered.
The deposit was 75 yards farther on, according to the instructions,
in a direction a little south of east. All four men paced it off with
extended strides, ending up in a scattered configuration, with no two
of them more than ten yards apart.
* * * * *
The men faced each other and looked about. It was a rock-strewn area
similar to a dozen others they had passed through on the way here. But
closer inspection revealed one difference. Here and there were piles of
dry, gray bones of different sizes, some of them crumbled almost into
dust.
"Looks something like an animal graveyard," said Dr. Grimwood. "But I
rather imagine it's less purposeful than that, and most of them simply
made the mistake of sleeping here."
"Well," said Stokely, his voice harsh and a trifle high-pitched,
"where's the jade?"
He deliberately pointed his gun at the doctor, who regarded him
dubiously.
"I'm sure it's here," said Dr. Grimwood, "but I really don't know much
about its appearance in the natural state. They carefully avoided any
mention of that on their map, you know. That map was intended for them
alone." The doctor began to walk slowly among the rocks, studying them.
"I seem to recall, though, hearing something about--"
He paused, bent down slowly with the weight of his pack, and dug with
his space-gauntleted fingers at a hollow in one of the larger rocks.
"--moss!" he finished. "Gray moss. I think this is it."
The tufted moss was hardly distinguishable from the stone itself in the
waning light. Dr. Grimwood plucked from its core a thimble-sized lump.
Holding it up, he scraped away part of the gray coating. It was as if,
with some magic flint, he had struck green fire. The eerie glow of the
gem made the surrounding area seem suddenly darker by contrast.
Will Archer only glanced at it, returning his gaze quickly to Stokely,
on his left. In the big man's reaction to this climactic discovery
might lie some clue to his probable course of action.
And the expression on Stokely's face was not good to see. The pale eyes
which had widened at the first sight of the gem now narrowed to slits,
while his normally regular features pulled into an ugly mask. A dark
flush suffused his freckled cheeks.
Archer watched him with growing alarm. There was little doubt that, for
the moment, Stokely was not sane.
His gun, still pointed at Dr. Grimwood, moved slightly, and Archer saw
his finger tightening on the trigger. In one motion, Archer slipped
free of his pack and flung himself at the heavier man.
The gun went off just as he struck, and Stokely, caught off guard, was
bowled over like a tenpin. His head-globe hit hard against the rocky
ground, protecting his head but smashing a large hole in the globe.
He went over so easily that Archer himself was thrown off balance. He
stumbled over Stokely's legs and fell a few feet beyond. Rolling over
quickly, he scrambled to a crouching position, then paused, and drew
himself slowly erect.
Evans was standing just beyond Stokely, and the gun in his hand was
aimed steadily at Archer's stomach. Dr. Grimwood was lying prone and
limp, his blood trickling out between the stones under him, the bit of
jade glinting near his outstretched hand.
Stokely picked up his gun and got to his feet dazedly, shaking his
head to clear it. Archer studied his face and saw there a vast, rising
anger, but no longer the wild light of utter unreason. The man was in a
dangerous mood and might readily kill again, but he had evidently been
jolted back to a semblance of sanity.
Suddenly, Stokely's eyes widened and fear became dominant in his
expression. He obviously had just realized the implication of the fact
that his head-globe was broken. He licked his lips, and looked back and
forth from Archer to Evans.
His mouth tightened with sudden purpose.
"Evans! Look out!" Archer shouted, but too late.
Stokely had lashed out with his gun and caught Evans sharply on the
right wrist. As Evans' gun dropped from paralyzed fingers, Stokely
easily shoved him away and scooped it up from the ground. He stepped
back a few paces, keeping a watchful eye on Archer.
"Okay," he ordered Evans grimly, "take it off!"
* * * * *
Only then, evidently, did Evans' slow wits grasp the meaning of what
had happened. His dark eyes stared with fright, but he loosened the
clamps with trembling fingers, and set his head-globe carefully on the
ground. Stokely, now in possession of all three guns, holstered the one
in his left hand, removed his cracked head-globe with some difficulty,
and even more awkwardly replaced it with Evans'.
Head-globes were interchangeable, though the individually proportioned
suits were not. The reason that Stokely had called upon Evans, not
Archer, to remove his globe was disturbingly obvious. Stokely wanted
Evans in the same status as himself, for the time being--which should
have been reassuring to Evans. To Archer it was quite the contrary, and
he was not surprised when Stokely scowled at him a moment later and
spoke in a voice that was too quiet:
"As for you, you're too smart for your own good. I don't think we need
you around any longer." The gun in his right hand swung slowly.
"On the contrary," said Archer quickly, "since that borrowed helmet
might not make any difference now, you need me worse than ever. That
is, unless you trust each other implicitly." He spoke the last few
words with slow emphasis.
For a long moment, the gun held steady, then it lowered a little.
Stokely gestured with the other hand.
"Take it off," he said harshly, "and I'll hear what you have to say.
I'm not promising anything, though. For instance--why should I trust
_you_?"
Archer removed his head-globe, admitting the outer air. It was cold
against his face, and so dry by comparison with the humidified air of
his pressure-suit that it caught in his throat as he breathed. He left
his headset on for communication with Stokely.
"Maybe you won't have to," Archer answered steadily. "I have a plan
that might work in spite of our low regard for each other's veracity.
But--in case it doesn't--you'll be better off if you take off that
globe."