"Cap'n," Thomas said behind me. "We got about seven minutes now to get
up there. I set the control on the converter to start up in ten minutes.
I think we can make it O.K., and ain't nobody else comin' this way with
the converter goin'. I locked the control panel so they can't shut her
down."
That news spurred me on. With the converter in operation, the first step
in the cycle was the evacuation of the ducts to a near-perfect vacuum.
When that happened, we would die instantly with ruptured lungs; then our
dead bodies would be sucked into the chamber and broken down into useful
raw materials. I hurried.
I tried to orient myself. The duct paralleled the corridor. It would
continue in that direction for about fifteen feet, and would then turn
upward, since the Bridge was some fifteen feet above this level. I
hitched along, and felt the duct begin to trend upward.
"You'll have to get on your back here, Cap'n," Thomas said. "She widens
out on the turn."
I managed to twist over. Thomas was helping me by pushing at my feet. As
I reached a near-vertical position, I felt a metal rod under my hand.
That was a relief; I had been expecting to have to go up the last
stretch the way a mountain climber does a rock chimney, back against one
wall and feet against the other.
I hauled at the rod, and found another with my other hand. Below, Thomas
boosted me. I groped up and got another, then another. The remaining
slight slant of the duct helped. Finally my feet were on the rods. I
clung, panting. The heat in the duct was terrific. Then I went on up.
That was some shot Kramer had given me.
* * * * *
Above I could see the end of the duct faintly in the light coming up
through the open chamber door from the utility room. I remembered the
location of the disposal slot on the Bridge now; it had been installed
in the small apartment containing a bunk and a tiny galley for the use
of the Duty Officer during long watches on the Bridge.
I reached the top of the duct and pushed against the slot cover. It
swung out easily. I could see the end of the chart table, and beyond,
the dead radar screen. I reached through and heaved myself partly out. I
nearly fainted at the stab from my ribs as my weight went on my chest.
My head sang. The light from below suddenly went out. I heard a muffled
clank; then a hum began, echoing up the duct.
"She's closed and started cyclin' the air out, Cap'n," Thomas said
calmly. "We got about half a minute."
I clamped my teeth together and heaved again. Below me Thomas waited
quietly. He couldn't help me now. I got my hands flat against the
bulkhead and thrust. The air was whistling around my face. Papers began
to swirl off the chart table. I twisted my body frantically, kicking
loose from the grip of the slot, fighting the sucking pull of air. I
fell to the floor inside the room, the slot cover slamming behind me. I
staggered to my feet. I pried at the cover, but I couldn't open it
against the vacuum. Then it budged, and Thomas' hand came through. The
metal edge cut into it, blood started, but the cover was held open half
an inch. I reached the chart table, almost falling over my leaden feet,
seized a short permal T-square, and levered the cover up. Once started,
it went up easily. Thomas face appeared, drawn and pale, eyes closed
against the dust being whirled into his face. He got his arms through,
heaved himself a little higher. I seized his arm and pulled. He
scrambled through.
I knocked the T-square out of the way and the cover snapped down. Then I
slid to the floor, not exactly out, but needing a break pretty bad.
Thomas brought bedding from the OD bunk and made me comfortable on the
floor.
"Thomas," I said, "when I think of what the security inspectors who
approved the plans for this arrangement are going to say when I call
this little back door to their attention, it almost makes it worth the
trouble."
"Yes, sir," Thomas said. He sprawled on the deck and looked around the
Bridge, staring at the unfamiliar screens, indicator dials, controls.
* * * * *
From where I lay, I could see the direct vision screen. I wasn't sure,
but I thought the small bright object in the center of it might be our
target. Thomas looked at the dead radar screen, then said, "Cap'n, that
there radarscope out of action?"
"It sure is, Thomas," I said. "Our unknown friends blew the works before
they left us." I was surprised that he recognized a radarscope.
"Mind if I take a look at it, Cap'n?" he said.
"Go ahead," I replied. I tried to explain the situation to Thomas. The
elapsed time since we had started our pursuit was two hours and ten
minutes; I wanted to close to no more than a twenty mile gap before
launching my missiles; and I had better alert my interceptor missiles in
case the Mancji hit first.
Thomas had the cover off the radar panel and was probing around. He
pulled a blackened card out of the interior of the panel.
"Looks like they overloaded the fuse," Thomas said. "Got any spares,
Cap'n?"
"Right beside you in the cabinet," I said. "How do you know your way
around a radar set, Thomas?"
Thomas grinned. "I useta be a radar technician third before I got inta
waste disposal," he said. "I had to change specialities to sign on for
this cruise."
I had an idea there'd be an opening for Thomas a little higher up when
this was over.
I asked him to take a look at the televideo, too. I was beginning to
realize that Thomas was not really simple; he was merely uncomplicated.
"Tubes blowed here, Cap'n," he reported. "Like as if you was to set her
up to high mag right near a sun; she was overloaded. I can fix her easy
if we got the spares."
I didn't take time to try to figure that one out. I could feel the
dizziness coming on again.
"Thomas," I called, "let me know when we're at twenty miles from
target." I wanted to tell him more, but I could feel consciousness
draining away. "Then ..." I managed, "first aid kit ... shot...."
I could still hear Thomas. I was flying away, whirling, but I could hear
his voice. "Cap'n, I could fire your missiles now, if you was to want me
to," he was saying. I struggled to speak. "No. Wait." I hoped he heard
me.
* * * * *
I floated a long time in a strange state between coma and consciousness.
The stuff Kramer had given me was potent. It kept my mind fairly clear
even when my senses were out of action. I thought about the situation
aboard my ship.
I wondered what Kramer and his men were planning now, how they felt
about having let me slip through their fingers. The only thing they
could try now was blasting their way into the Bridge. They'd never make
it. The designers of these ships were not unaware of the hazards of
space life; the Bridge was an unassailable fortress. They couldn't
possibly get to it.
I guessed that Kramer was having a pretty rough time of it now. He had
convinced the men that we were rushing headlong to sure destruction at
the hands of the all-powerful Mancji, and that their Captain was a fool.
Now he was trapped with them in the panic he had helped to create. I
thought that in all probability they had torn him apart.
I wavered in and out of consciousness. It was just as well; I needed the
rest. Then I heard Thomas calling me. "We're closin' now, Cap'n," he
said. "Wake up, Cap'n, only twenty-three miles now."
"Okay," I said. My body had been preparing itself for this, now it was
ready again. I felt the needle in my arm. That helped, too.
"Hand me the intercom, Thomas," I said. He placed the mike in my hand. I
keyed for a general announcement.
"This is the Captain," I said. I tried to keep my voice as steady as
possible. "We are now at a distance of twenty-one miles from the enemy.
Stand by for missile launching and possible evasive action. Damage
control crews on the alert." I paused for breath.
"Now we're going to take out the Mancji ship, men," I said. "All two
miles of it."
I dropped the mike and groped for the firing key. Thomas handed it to
me.
"Cap'n," he said, bending over me. "I notice you got the selector set
for your chemical warheads. You wouldn't want me to set up pluto heads
for ya, would ya, Cap'n?"
"No, thanks, Thomas," I said. "Chemical is what I want. Stand by to
observe." I pressed the firing key.
Thomas was at the radarscope. "Missiles away, Cap'n. Trackin' O.K. Looks
like they'll take out the left half a that dumbbell."
I found the mike again. "Missiles homing on target," I said. "Strike in
thirty-five seconds. You'll be interested to know we're employing
chemical warheads. So far there is no sign of offense or defense from
the enemy." I figured the news would shock a few mutineers. David wasn't
even using his slingshot on Goliath. He was going after him bare-handed.
I wanted to scare some kind of response out of them. I needed a few
clues as to what was going on below.
I got it. Joyce's voice came from the wall annunciator. "Captain, this
is Lt. Joyce reporting." He sounded scared all the way through, and
desperate. "Sir, the mutiny has been successfully suppressed by the
loyal members of the crew. Major Kramer is under arrest. We're prepared
to go on with the search for the Omega Colony. But Sir ..." he paused,
gulping. "We ask you to change course now before launching any effective
attack. We still have a chance. Maybe they won't bother with us when
those firecrackers go off ..."
* * * * *
I watched the direct vision screen. Zero second closed in. And on the
screen the face of the left hand disk of the Mancji ship was lit
momentarily by a brilliant spark of yellow, then another. A
discoloration showed dimly against the dark metallic surface. It spread,
and a faint vapor formed over it. Now tiny specs could be seen moving
away from the ship. The disk elongated, with infinite leisure, widening.
"What's happenin'? Cap'n?" Thomas asked. He was staring at the scope in
fascination. "They launchin' scouts, or what?"
"Take a look here, Thomas," I said. "The ship is breaking up."
The disk was an impossibly long ellipse now, surrounded by a vast array
of smaller bodies, fragments and contents of the ship. Now the stricken
globe moved completely free of its companion. It rotated, presenting a
crescent toward us, then wheeled farther as it receded from its twin,
showing its elongation. The sphere had split wide open. Now the
shattered half itself separated into two halves, and these in turn
crumbled, strewing debris in a widening spiral.
"My God, Cap'n," Thomas said in awe. "That's the greatest display I ever
seen. And all it took to set her off was 200 kilos a PBL. Now that's
somethin'."
I keyed the mike again. "This is the Captain," I said. "I want ten
four-man patrols ready to go out in fifteen minutes. The enemy ship has
been put out of action and is now in a derelict condition. I want only
one thing from her; one live prisoner. All Section chiefs report to me
on the Bridge on the triple."
"Thomas," I said, "go down in the lift and open up for the Chiefs.
Here's the release key for the combination; you know how to operate it?"
"Sure, Cap'n; but are you sure you want to let them boys in here after
the way they jumped you an' all?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but he beat me to it. "Fergit I asked ya
that, Cap'n, pleasir. You ain't been wrong yet."
"It's O.K., Thomas," I said. "There won't be any more trouble."