Gavin recalled the chief engineer's prediction that the _Nova_ would
be at Jupiter in two weeks. He glanced at the chart on the forward
bulkhead. The _Nova's_ position was marked with a pin. The slaver, he
saw, had been traveling at a good clip, but nothing phenomenal.
"We'll have to go faster than that," he said dryly.
Nadia's long black eyes sparkled. "You don't know about the little
death yet?"
"The little death? Yes, the chief mentioned it. Just what is this
little death?"
Nadia opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. She was peering beyond
him, Gavin realized, a frightened expression on her pretty slavic
features. Gavin swung around.
Captain Josiah Cabot stood in the door way, swaying slightly.
* * * * *
His eyes were glazed. Fine cruel wrinkles crossed his lean face. He
moved stiffly into the messroom, his eyes straight ahead, and sat down
at a table like a mechanical doll. He didn't even see them, Gavin
realized with a start.
The black man came out of the pantry with a bottle of Terran whiskey
and a glass, and set them before the Captain. The negro's eyes rolled,
showing the whites. He got back into his pantry as quick as possible.
Nadia leaned across the table to Gavin. "He's drunk. He'll stay drunk
until after the little death. It's horrible!"
Suddenly the Captain burst into a roar of laughter. He poured himself a
drink and gulped it greedily. He said in an unexpectedly ringing voice:
"I see you, Paula. Why don't you go back to hell where you belong? You
can't touch me now," and burst into laughter again, staring at the
empty doorway.
A cold chill shivered up Gavin's spine.
Nadia said, "Paula was his mistress. She tried to poison him. He
strangled her and threw her body out the disposal chute!"
"Hey," hissed Gavin, "keep your voice down! He can hear you."
"He doesn't even know we're here."
Gavin looked at Nadia thoughtfully. The girl's white features had gone
translucent like milk glass. Her long black eyes wore an expression of
horror.
She said, "It's just starting. He sees all the ones he's killed.
They return and plague him. He can't rid his mind of them. It's a
psychological quirk...." She paused unsteadily.
"Go on," Gavin urged.
"You'll see." Her voice was faint.
"You were a handsome tart, Paula," said Cabot, his glazed eyes
following some figure invisible to Gavin. "A foul mind in a beautiful
body. How many times did you deceive me? But I wasn't fooled." He
laughed disagreeably. "I wasn't fooled. How did it feel to wake up with
my fingers about your throat?" He paused, lean head cocked to one side,
the cruel lines etched deeper about his mouth. "That fine body doesn't
do you much good in hell, Paula?" The gloating slowly died from his
features, his voice became resigned. "There's no use holding a grudge.
You're dead, Paula, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's too
bad you can't drink. You were fond enough of it alive. But I'll drink
it for you," and he chuckled triumphantly.
"I'm leaving." Nadia sprang to her feet, lips bloodless. "I can't stand
it."
Gavin escorted her to the door. He paused to salute Cabot. "Charmed to
make your acquaintance, Paula," he added.