"The people," Chambers shouted at him. "The people will. They won't
allow this. When you get back to the Solar System ..."
Stutsman growled, stepping toward Chambers, pistol leveled. "The people
won't have anything to say about this. I'll rule the Solar System the
way I want to. There won't be anyone else who'll have a thing to say
about it. So you dreamed of empire, did you? You dreamed of a solar
dictatorship. Well, watch me! I'll build a real empire. But I'll be the
head of it ... not you."
Craven sat down in his chair, crossed his knees. "Just what do you plan
to do, Dictator Stutsman?"
* * * * *
Stutsman fairly foamed at the mouth over the insolence of Craven's
voice. "I'll smash Manning first. I'll wipe him out. This ship will do
it. You said yourself it would. You have ten times the power he has. And
then ..."
Craven raised a hand and waved him into silence. "So you plan to reach
the Solar System, do you? You plan to meet Manning, and destroy his
ship. Nice plan."
"What's wrong with it?" challenged Stutsman.
"Nothing," said Craven calmly. "Absolutely nothing at all ... _except
that we may never reach the Solar System_!"
Stutsman seemed to sag. The wolfish snarl on his lips drooped. His eyes
stared. Then with an effort he braced himself.
"What do you mean? Why can't we?" He gestured toward the vision plate,
toward the tiny yellow star between the two brighter stars.
"That," said Craven, "isn't our Sun. It has planets, but it isn't our
Sun."
Chambers stepped quickly to Craven, reached out a hand and hoisted him
from the chair, shook him.
"You must be joking! That has to be the Sun!"
Craven shrugged free of Chambers' clutch, spoke in an even voice. "I
never joke. We made a mistake, that's all. I hadn't meant to tell you
yet. I had intended to get in close to the star and take on a full load
of power and then try to locate our Sun. But I'm afraid it's a hopeless
task."
"A hopeless task?" shrieked Stutsman. "You are trying to trick me. This
is put up between the two of you. That's the Sun over there. I know it
is!"
"It isn't," said Craven. "Manning tricked us. He started off in the
wrong direction. He made us think he was going straight back to the
Solar System, but he didn't. He circled and went in some other
direction."
The scientist eyed Stutsman calmly. Stutsman's knuckles were white with
the grip he had upon the gun.
"We're lost," Craven told him, looking squarely at him. "We may never
find the Solar System!"
_CHAPTER TWENTY_
The revolution was over. Interplanetary officials and army heads had
fled to the sanctuary of Earth. Interplanetary was ended ... ended
forever, for on every world, including Earth, material energy engines
were humming. The people had power to burn, to throw away, power so
cheap that it was practically worthless as a commodity, but invaluable
as a way to a new life, a greater life, a fuller life ... a broader
destiny for the human race.
Interplanetary stocks were worthless. The mighty power plants on Venus
and Mercury were idle. The only remaining tangible asset were the fleets
of spaceships used less than a month before to ship the accumulators to
the outer worlds, to bring them Sunward for recharging.
Patents protecting the rights to the material energy engines had been
obtained from every government throughout the Solar System. New
governments were being formed on the wreckage of the old. John Moore
Mallory already had been inaugurated as president of the Jovian
confederacy. The elections on Mars and Venus would be held within a
week.
Mercury, its usefulness gone with the smashing of the accumulator trade,
had been abandoned. No human foot now trod its surface. Its mighty domes
were empty. It went its way, as it had gone for billions of years, a
little burned out, worthless planet, ignored and shunned. For a brief
moment it had known the conquering tread of mankind, had played its part
in the commerce of the worlds, but now it had reverted to its former
state ... a lonely wanderer of the regions near the Sun, a pariah among
the other planets.
* * * * *
Russell Page looked across the desk at Gregory Manning. He heaved a sigh
and dug the pipe out of his jacket pocket.
"It's finished, Greg," he said.
Greg nodded solemnly, watching Russ fill the bowl and apply the match.
Except for the small crew, they were alone in the _Invincible_. John
Moore Mallory and the others were on their own worlds, forming their own
governments, carrying out the dictates of the people, men who would go
down in solar history.
The _Invincible_ hung just off Callisto. Russ looked out at the mighty
moon, saw the lonely stretches of its ice-bound surface, saw the silvery
spot that was the dome of Ranthoor.
"All done," said Greg, "except for one thing."
"Go out and get Chambers and the others," said Russ, puffing at the
pipe.