Loading everyone into the lunar ship was a horrible period of chaos.
It had never been meant to hold such a cargo of goods and people. But
somehow room was found, and Edwards began moving out and away from the
_Goddard_--the station that was now empty, except for the warheads that
were growing hotter with each hour.
"I've called the Island," he said to Blane. "If the message got to
anyone except some lumphead, I think they'll be waiting for us."
Blane nodded, but he found little reaction to any news now. He had made
his plans in some split moment between striking Devlin and reaching
the office. There was nothing now to add to them. There was only a
grim determination and the hope that all spacemen must share it--the
determination that somehow, men had to stay out here and find an honest
destiny in space.
* * * * *
Three hours later, when their long ellipse brought them within sight
of the _Tsiolkovsky_, he saw that there were ships around the station.
There were no more than half a dozen now, but he could see others
approaching. It was impossible for all to leave at once, but the men
there had elected to join him, and they had found enough sympathy among
the staff of the Island to gain control long enough to accomplish their
decision.
The awkward lunar ship came to a reluctant stop less than half a mile
from the station, and Blane began picking those who were to go with
him aboard the little ferry that was in tow. Manners and Peal and two
others. He was looking for a sixth when Devlin moved into the group.
Blane started to order him aside, and then shrugged.
They were almost as crowded in the taxi that Edwards piloted as they
had been on the lunar ship. But there was no thought of that. The
others were taking their cue from Blane, and Blane was simply waiting,
frozen in his determination until events could shape his moves.
* * * * *
The landing net snapped around them, and they settled into the silicone
ring, and then began moving into the huge hub of the _Sulky_.
At least a dozen people were waiting there--too many, Blane realized.
He hadn't bothered to consider the size of the group he must meet. But
he disregarded that.
Sonya Vartanian moved forward to greet him with the double kiss and
handshake. Her eyes were unreadable, but her voice was warm. "Welcome,
gentlemen. I am delighted that you remembered our offer of aid in time
of trouble. You have our assurance that--"
Blane cut her off with a hasty gesture. He wanted no speeches from her.
It had to be done at once, or forgotten, as he had planned it. His mind
had no second line of action. He began to speak authoritatively;
"In the name of the free territory of space, I seize this ship and
all that is on it," he continued coldly, "I sever all ties any may
have with Earth herewith. I ban all military operations from space. I
declare that no nation may own property in space, but may only trade
according to the just laws and practices that shall be henceforth
established for space. I--"
He was wound up to the point where he could not stop, though there was
nothing more to say at the moment.
But a sudden sound choked off his words. It was a shout from those who
had come to meet the crew from the _Goddard_. It was a long, surprised
crescendo that slowly became a cheer.
* * * * *
Sonya leaned forward, grasping his hands. "Thank God," she cried in his
ear. "Oh thank God. I was so afraid you wouldn't see it."
He blinked, beginning to feel foolish. "You mean that you agree?
Without resistance?"
"We've been trying to find some way to make it happen for two
years--ever since our commander refused to permit our decaying missiles
to be used against your station," she told him. "But we never really
believed it could happen."
Blane knew that he had never believed it, either.
He pulled her closer, beginning to smile again. "In the name of the
free territory of space!" he said, and kissed her.