The very vastness of space lends a sense of security from detection.
The enormous speed required to cover the parsecs between systems gives
advantage to those who elude the patrols.
The _Vulcan_, bound for Earth, streaked through the blackness like a
swift needle in illimitable space. Its sensitive detector beams probed
the spangled cosmos for danger.
Inside, the crews changed shift and slept, lulled by the warm hum of
converters. It was a secure little world of glittering lights and
steel, no different from the many Company ships which Ray had flown in
the past.
He was standing in the warm hold, staring through the bars at the
Mutes. Their large eyes turned to his, but there was no other sign of
awareness, life. They were delicately built, almost like children. No
wonder they made appealing pets, semi-slaves.
Almost angrily Ray shook the bars. "Can't you talk," he growled. There
was an uneasy movement, but no answer. "Speak up, you dumbbells!" He
grew impatient under the silent stares.
Impatient with himself for trying to make them talk, as if that would
solve anything! Yet, they seemed so intelligent. They were clothed,
they had some sort of local government. Surely they must be able to
communicate. But they only stared!
He had a fleeting impression as if they were sorry for him.
He wondered suddenly if they were telepathic. He concentrated on the
idea, but no inkling came. Only blankness. They were just animals. They
had to be.
Abruptly he left the hold and climbed to the upper deck. In the
corridor Williams stopped him.
"I hear we're still headed for Earth, Sir." The man's dark face held a
worried look.
"Yes." Ray waited, but the other only shuffled his feet in
uncomfortable silence, so he turned toward the girl's cabin.
Ellenor would know the answer.
"Are those Mutes telepathic?" he demanded almost savagely of her. The
whole idea was unwelcome. In fact, his interest in the Mutes was like a
foolish obsession!
"No." She stared at him a long while. "They know how people feel," she
said at last. "They know how everything feels--animals, plants, and
even the soil."
"That's nothing. I know how people feel."
"No, you don't." She let that sink in. "On Venus they know when the
soil wishes to grow things; they know when things are due to happen.
The moon of places tells them where to settle; where they are welcome.
Theirs is a language of--of feelings, you might say."
"Instinct. Well developed."
"More than that." She assumed a kindly air of instruction. "It is
learned. I know that you, for instance, are at war with yourself. You
admire this Captain Lodar, but he is evil. Yet you are sorry for him."
"Sorry!" The idea of feeling sorry for Lodar was startling. It had
never even vaguely occurred to him. Lodar was too self-sufficient.
She shrugged, a dainty movement. "You are mentally blind. You don't
believe your inner senses." Her delicate face wore a frown as she
groped for words. "Lodar hopes to retire on Earth, to live in peace
on his ill-gotten gains. But Lodar knows he will never live to enjoy
that peace." Her eyes grew large as they met his. He had the uneasy
feeling as if she'd opened his mind like a book. Probably her words
had overstimulated his imagination. "And you know that, too, inside of
you," she ended.
"I know--"
"That Lodar will die," she completed placidly. "Better take us back to
Venus."
Was the girl trying to bewitch him? Bog him down in a tangle of mystic
nonsense? An air of intimacy tingled his senses. He wanted to touch the
girl, to comfort her. Abruptly he stood up.
"Better think over about that promise to keep silent." He felt as if
something very fragile had shattered. He was vaguely sorry about it,
yet determined to stick to reality.
* * * * *
Campora was in the control room when Ray arrived. The First Mate was
anxiously focussing the triangulation vernier on the magnaflux screen.
"There's a ship on our tail," he muttered. "See if you can analyze it."
Ray took over and explored the field for tensions around the black dot
on the screen.
"Got an eight plate Benson Drive," he concluded at last. "It's a
Company ship!"
Campora sounded a general alarm. "I told Lodar to keep off an Earth
course!" he gritted.
There was a rush of feet in the corridor as the crew ran for their
stations. In minutes the captain himself appeared. Lodar already knew
what to expect. He brushed Campora aside after a dozen words.
"Get the gun crews set," he told him shortly.
"How about changing course?" the mate demanded sullenly.
"I know what to do!" Lodar rapped. "Get going!" His eyes narrowed
angrily as he watched Campora stamp out and slam the door. Then
abruptly he turned to prowl nervously from control panel to magnaflux
and back again.
Ray said nothing. He was wondering alertly just how this was going to
affect the girl. He hoped she'd forgotten. Under onslaught of Lodar's
driving energy human lives were nothing. Even now the captain's dark
eyes blazed with excitement, a savage delight in the approaching danger.
The young navigator began to plot the other ship's course. It was
curving in behind them on the left. The intent was obvious; to overtake
from one side and drive the _Vulcan_ into a sheering curve. It would
take power to get away, lots of power!
Ray called McVane on the interphone, breathed a sigh of relief as the
engineer promptly answered. "We're running into trouble. Get your
teakettle going--fast," he ordered.
"Ay, ay," McVane mumbled.
"Keep awake!" Ray hissed savagely. "If we're caught now it'll mean life
for us!"
"Take it easy, I'll give ye power. If need be," McVane added morosely,
"enough to blow us all to hell!"
The captain was studying the magnaflux when Ray turned.
"They're cutting in." His thick finger traced a curve. The pursuer's
tactics were obvious--to drive the _Vulcan_ into an ever-tightening
spiral aided by his greater speed.
"Why don't they radio?" Ray glanced at the silent receiver.
"At this speed?" Lodar grunted. "No chance! There'll only be a few
seconds of contact."
It was true. On any course, the two ships would flash past each other
with scant time for talk. If the _Vulcan_ was an innocent trader it
would haul to, if not it would travel, or surrender. There was no
chance of surrender.
Lodar had too much at stake. He was carrying a fortune back to Earth.
His last chance at a decent life. As for the crew, most of them were
wanted by the police in half the cities of Earth. Their safety lay in
the outer planets or in space.
"We'll take a chance." Ray glanced at Lodar for confirmation, then
tapped the magnaflux. "They've got more power, more guns, and they'll
outrun us. We've got to cut out."
"Go ahead!" Lodar nodded tensely, like a leashed hound scenting
trouble. "Campora's got the gun crews ready."
Ray hadn't figured on blasting at the Company ship. He had hoped for
a swift getaway. Still, this was no time for fine distinctions. After
all, he had joined the _Vulcan_ of his own free will. He couldn't
change his mind now. But, if he ever got out of this....
He turned to the controls, concentrating on his job.
The Benson Plates on the outer hull shifted gratingly, turning to alter
the drive. The moan of the ether whorls pitched higher as the _Vulcan_
creaked to swing ponderously on a new course. It made a huge figure S
curve, designed to pull it out of the threatened spiral.
In seconds the proximity alarms shrilled. As the ship cut closer to
its pursuer Ray tightened the turn till the _Vulcan_ swung sharply to
right. There was a rattle of sound as loose objects spilled over the
decks.
The other ship was on the ordinary visiscreen now, a black streak that
danced to one side of the _Vulcan_. Under his feet, Ray could feel the
jarring thrust of McVane's converters, he could sense the leap of the
_Vulcan_ as he closed in the last dregs of power.
But still the other ship crept closer.
Ray shook his head silently at Lodar who stood at the interphone.
The captain glanced hastily at the visiscreen, turned back to his
mouthpiece.
"Got the range, Campora?" He leaned forward, hawklike. "Now!" he
bellowed.
The _Vulcan_ shook as the broadside was fired and the thrusting drive
faltered while power surged to the weapons.
It was a miss. Lodar swore.
"Fire at will," he yelled, slamming down the phone. He hurried to the
visiscreen.
* * * * *
The other ship had shifted course to follow them, though it was still
abeam, still trying to drive them into a spiral. Ray swung the _Vulcan_
again, cutting dangerously close. The dot on the visiscreen swelled and
centered on the beam again.
Campora's crew were firing intermittently. A shot exploded on the
Company ship's hull, a spray of melted steel that flashed and was gone.
"We disabled them!" Lodar exulted.
The other ship was losing way, still holding its course, but slowing.
Then they flashed by it. Ray felt relief. The other wasn't badly hurt.
He'd get back to port.
And, in that moment, the Company ship blasted with all its guns. The
_Vulcan_ rocked under the blow of solid energy. A vast eruption tore
out a section of rear plating. The Benson Drive quit.
Then they were out of range.
Lodar was on the interphone. "Get on that damage!" he roared. "Campora,
keep those guns ready. McVane! Hello, McVane!" He slammed down the
instrument. "Some day I'll kill that McVane with my own hands!"
"Maybe he's hurt," Ray snapped.
Lodar grunted and picked up the phone again. "Hello, Williams, get a
first aid crew out and look for casualties."
He turned to pace the floor, aroused, thirsting now for action. Up and
down, up and down, as if the pent up energy flamed within him.
For the present the engagement was over. Both ships were damaged. They
would drift thousands of miles apart before either could resume flight.
At least the _Vulcan_ was fairly safe. And space was a vast hiding
place.
"They'll never take us now," Ray said, trying to divert Lodar's
ceaseless activity. The man positively burned with energy.
"Not alive, anyway!" The captain turned. "Not for their brand of
justice! You know why I was cashiered from the Earth Fleet? I was an
upstart. I didn't belong to the right clique. So when someone stole
the club funds they refused to hold a trial. Sure, they just asked me
quietly to resign so as to avoid a scandal." He ground his teeth. "I
was no thief!"
"That's when my wife left me," he added flatly. "Can you expect justice
from scum like that?" He glared. "Take all you can, my boy, and die
like a man when the time comes!"
It was the same old story Ray had heard a dozen times, and he was sick
of it. Also he was sick of Lodar's ceaseless pacing. The fight had left
the man wound up like a spring!
"I'll go look things over." Ray turned to the exit without waiting for
the other's approval.
The corridor was strangely silent now that the vast throb of the
converters no longer boomed along it. There was a dim clatter of
men working in the after section of the ship, but Ray turned to the
mid-section well and slid down to the engine room.
The auxiliary generator was whining briskly, but the main converters
were in bad shape. Blue, acrid smoke poured from the inspection plates,
hazed in the glaring lamplight, and there was a stinging odor of
extinguisher gases.
McVane was lying on the metal floor.
Ray dragged him to the well and put him on the elevator. The engineer
wasn't badly hurt, only a nasty cut on the head. In the upper passage
he halted Williams and several of the crew.
"Where's your first aid kit?" he demanded.
"Sorry, Sir." Williams grinned. "Captain ordered us on another job. The
kit's aft."
Swearing, Ray hurried to the after section and retrieved the medical
supplies. Back in the corridor, he decided to let the girl look after
McVane. She might as well be of some use.
He dragged McVane to the cabin and unlocked the door.
The girl inside almost bowled him over in a frantic attempt to escape.
"Here, quiet down!" He held the struggling figure, enjoying a brief
moment of her nearness. "The scrap is over. You're perfectly safe."
"I don't care about that!" the girl flamed. "What are you doing to my
friends?"
"Nothing." He turned her loose reluctantly. "Here, take care of
McVane." Watching her cautiously, he dragged the engineer inside.
"Let me out!" She tried to squeeze past him. "They're doing awful
things!"
"Calm down." He frowned uneasily. "You look after McVane. I'll take a
look at your friends."
Despite her protests he locked her in again, then impatiently hurried
to the well to slide down and turn into the hold.
Six of the crew were clustered by the cage which held the Mutes.
"What--" Then he saw what had happened. The sight made him sick.
The Mutes lay in grotesque heaps. Dead. They had been rayed!
"Who ordered this?" he demanded thickly. His mouth felt dry. His
stomach was tying itself into knots.
Williams' swarthy face turned his way. "Campora said it was the
captain's orders." The man spat deliberately. "A damned good idea, too,
unloading them!"