_Captain Lodar's compelling urge to return
to Earth was like the instinct of a dying
animal for its lair ... to die with its kind.
Nothing would stop him ... nothing except
death. And the death of the soaring_ Vulcan
_would be his swan song to space_.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories January 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
_Norport, U.S.A.
November 2, 2268_
_Honorable Board of Space Navigation,
Section 6.
Subject: 6B-5_
_Gentlemen:_
_In support of a petition on behalf of our client, we herewith
submit a report of the Mutiny on the_ Vulcan _dramatized for your
convenience, but true in all essentials_.
_We beg you to note the extenuating circumstances and to consider
these in rendering your decision._
_Respectfully yours,
Haley, Cronk, & Touchwife,
Attorneys at Law.
per Jonas Cronk, LLD., MSL., PhD._
* * * * *
The Spaceship _Vulcan_ lay on a tangled mat of vegetation. A thin haze
of blue smoke drifted over it from the nearby Venusian village where
several of the grass huts were afire. Under the bulging side of the
ship twenty of the crew were boisterously herding a group of Venus
Mutes, forcing them into the entrance port of the hold. There was very
little trouble; only one of the Mutes balked, and a sting ray soon
quieted that.
In the glittering control room of the ship Ray Burk, Navigator
Unlimited, turned from the viewport with a frown.
"It seems a pity to burn down their shacks," he muttered.
He was a large young man with blond hair, carelessly dressed, yet
still bearing that touch of alert authority characteristic of a crack
spaceship man. Since it was his first trip on the _Vulcan_ he was still
a little out of place--not that he and Captain Lodar didn't understand
each other.
Lodar, pacing restlessly back and forth, made no reply. His black
eyebrows merely lifted sardonically as he continued his heavy strides.
It was typical of Lodar, whose vast energy kept him ceaselessly active,
but in the confines of a ship it was like being caged with a lion.
Ray turned back to the viewport. The village, burning sluggishly was
desolate beneath the long column of smoke that rose in the still air.
Lodar's strides halted at the magnaflux, he twirled the detector
impatiently. "Still clear," he muttered. Then, louder, "Fix a course
for Earth, Burk. As soon as all are aboard, we'll take off."
Ray glanced quickly at Lodar, surprised at the sudden change of course,
but he said nothing. This was Lodar's last flight, if all went well he
was through. Perhaps that was why he was so savagely nervous. After
all, it was time he quit. Luck had been with him overlong.
The interphone jingled and Lodar answered it.
"All right, Campora," he said after a moment, "get set for takeoff.
Then report up here to me." He turned to Ray. "Take off, Mister. Make
it snappy!"
Ray checked the safety lights, then signaled for power. He hoped McVane
was sober. The sad-faced little engineer just couldn't stay away from
his bottle.
But McVane was at least sober enough, for the metal floor began to
throb gently as the converters on the lower deck groaned to life.
While the machines built up to speed Ray adjusted the drive for a sixty
degree lift. He could hear the soft grate of the Benson Plates shifting
on the outer hull.
* * * * *
The interphone tinkled and Ray heard McVane's broad accents. "Ye can
rip the bottom off her, Mister!" Yes, McVane was drunk again. He'd been
out in the space rays too long perhaps, but the indicators showed him
on the job.
Ray closed the ether drive and the ship rose silently as if caught on
an elevator belt. He set the course carefully, aware of Lodar at his
elbow, watching. If the Captain would only watch McVane as he did the
others, things might be a lot better.
Perhaps Lodar was afraid for the hoard of jewels which was rumored to
be aboard. Ray had heard whispers of this wealth, but he doubted that
Lodar would fear any man, much less the space rats aft. Why, he could
whip any ten of them!
Still, it might explain the sudden change in plans. Originally the
_Vulcan_ was destined for Mars where the load of Mutes would be sold
to the zoos. Lodar's decision to head for Earth was unexpected, as
unexpected as so many of his brilliant moves.
Ray had cut in the autopilot when the bulkhead door swung open to admit
Campora. The First Mate still wore his rubber marsh boots and a gun
slung on his narrow waist.
"A fine haul, Captain." He touched his dark mustache and a grin slit
the sallow face. "About fifty Mutes." Then his grin faltered as he saw
the Captain's expression.
Lodar faced him with huge fists balled on his hips.
"Who the hell gave you permission to set fire to that village, Mister?"
Campora's brown eyes darted once to Ray as if for support. His lean
hand covered the black mustache. "Just a little fun for the boys,
Captain." The Mate's voice was placating. "We--"
"Fun, eh!" Lodar's eyes were narrow as he thrust his heavy face
forward. "If there's any fun to be dispensed, I'll do it! Do you morons
realize that the smoke will alert half the patrol ships in space?"
"I--I'm sorry, Captain." Campora backed away. "You see--"
"Shut up!" Lodar jerked his dark head. "Take over from Burk."
Feeling sorry for the cowed mate, Ray relinquished his controls and
gave the course. Campora stared.
"But--I thought we were to head for Mars!"
"I changed that," Lodar interrupted impatiently.
"You never told us!" Campora looked excited. "You agreed that we'd
never head for Earth without warning. You know the men won't stand for
it!"
"Yes, they will!" Lodar eyed the mate steadily. "Tell 'em they needn't
worry, I'll look out for them."
"There'll be trouble!" Campora snapped.
"Is that a threat?" The big man's voice was icy. Then, as Campora
subsided mumbling, Lodar turned abruptly to Ray.
"You can come with me, Burk, if you want to look at the cargo."
As he headed for the exit Ray followed curiously. It was the young
navigator's first trip to Venus and he'd never seen a Mute close at
hand. Which was strange, since his own past was so inextricably tied up
with them.
Ray had served five years with the Mars-Venus Company to earn his
unlimited navigator's ticket on the Mars passenger flights.
This company was chartered "to develop and exploit the planets of Mars
and Venus" and most of its wealth came from the exploitation. For years
Venus Mutes had been captured and sold to zoos or to wealthy people for
pets.
The practice was strongly condemned by humanitarian groups on Earth.
This became so vociferous that, finally, the Earth Federation halted
all flights to Venus regardless of charter.
The Company declared such law was illegal. It would send a ship to
Venus and have matters settled in court.
At this time Ray Burk was due to command his first ship. He was
offered the Venus flight--the breaking of law to be merely a step in
establishing precedent, so they said. It sounded like high adventure,
with himself carrying the ball. He gladly accepted. And, as expected,
he was intercepted by an Earth patrol ship.
But in the ensuing legal battle the Company found its very charter
jeopardized. It hastily switched tactics, disclaimed all knowledge of
the flight, and said Ray had set an incorrect course. Even hardened
politicians smiled at such a thin excuse, but the Company made it
stick. Ray lost his navigator's license. He was through.
The Company even went further in order to clear itself. It righteously
promised to limit the capture of Mutes and save them from extinction.
In fact, it offered to patrol Venus and stop illegal raids by others.
Then the price of Mutes rose to fantastic heights. Poachers moved in to
reap fortunes from the trade.