IV

Abruptly Ray turned and ran for the upper deck. He burst into the

control room.

Lodar turned from the chart file. The captain's face was white. His

eyes burned starkly.

"So--you know they're dead." His voice was expressionless. "Are they

any worse off dead than in a zoo?"

"You ordered those Mutes killed!"

Lodar made a hopeless gesture. "If we're intercepted, and have to

fight, we'll all be killed, including the Mutes. So we get rid of them.

We're clean, we go to Earth!"

"Cold-blooded murder!" Ray gritted. "A cowardly--"

"Stop it!" Lodar's voice cracked. "They're not human. Getting

hysterical won't bring them back. Forget it. We're not playing

ring-around-the-rosy!"

"You'll pay for this!" Rage at his own helplessness almost gagged Ray.

"When we land on Earth I'm going to have you hunted down like a dog!"

"It takes evidence to hang a man." The captain chuckled mirthlessly.

"Do you think I'd willingly jettison a valuable cargo? We'll be

drifting for a week, at the mercy of any patrol ship that comes along.

I had to do it."

A sudden thought iced Ray's boiling emotions.

Ellenor! He'd have to watch out for the girl.

With the Mutes gone, Lodar would have to reckon with the girl.

Ray turned to the door. He had to get away from Lodar before he was

tempted to shoot the man!

"You and I are through, Lodar." He tried to keep his voice steady, to

bottle up his fury. He'd need all his wits to get out of this mess! His

former grudge against the Company, against Earth justice, was childish

and futile. He had been a brainless fool to fall for the romance, the

swashbuckling air of the _Vulcan_. "I'll work with you till we land,"

he said through clenched teeth. "After that we're through!"

He slammed the door behind him. He wanted to get as far away from

Lodar as possible, to the rear of the ship, where a repair crew was

blasphemously patching the hull.

Several space-suited figures were outside, welding the plates, while

others, inside, used plastic matting to save the air. Jenkins was in

command.

"Where are we now, Mr. Burk?" he asked Ray.

"About halfway to Earth." Ray tried to sound normal.

"Is the captain still insisting on going ahead?"

Ray nodded, dislike of the other welling in him.

"Looky." Jenkins drew him to one side. "The men don't like the idea,

see, of going to Earth. Most of us skipped out to space for a good

reason, see?"

Ray nodded again, and his lips tightened impatiently. Jenkins was a

bully.

"Well, sir, maybe you could persuade the captain to change his mind,

huh? We don't want trouble."

"All right, I'll see." Ray started to turn away.

"Campora tried to tell the captain." Jenkins' grimy paw rested on Ray's

arm, while he peered at him through his glasses. "But Lodar don't like

Campora, see?"

Ray had paused despite his loathing for the man.

"Sure." Jenkins moved closer. "Campora knifed a guy just before he

skipped Earth. It was his second offense. Don't let on I told you." He

looked anxious. "I was just trying to help, see?"

"Yes." Ray turned away disgustedly. "I'll talk to Lodar."

He was beginning to hate every man aboard the _Vulcan_. That wasn't

good. It was a sign of space hysteria. He'd have to guard against such

things.

Vigilance was the only safety factor.

Stay out in space too long and you begin to brood. Worse still if

you are psychologically able to stick it out long enough, you become

infected with the deadly space rays that burn you up with febrile

energy. Or you go batty with claustrophobia.

And they had all been out too long. They were reckless and unstable. He

must get Ellenor away safely if it was the last thing he ever did.

Before the day period was over he went to see the girl, dreading to

face her with the news of the Mutes' slaying. But she already knew.

"You needn't tell me." Her brown eyes were dazed with pain. "I know.

They are dead."

What was there to say? That he would have saved them if he could? That

he was sorry? Furious at Lodar? They were only fine words. He turned

silently to the bunk where McVane lay asleep, his gray head swathed in

bandages.

"He's all right," Ellenor said. "He lost a lot of blood, but I got the

cook to bring some food. He ate it."

Ray turned back to her. He took her arm and led her to a chair, aware

once more of that tingle of pleasure at the touch of her.

"I'll do what I can to help you," he said earnestly. "But you've got to

promise Lodar that you'll keep quiet. If you don't I'm afraid he'll--"

"I'm not afraid!" Her red lips curled. She had parted the long, dark

hair in two braids, which she was now tugging as if for emphasis. "If

you are my friend--"

"I am," he interrupted swiftly. "God knows I'm sorry enough to be

tangled up in this outfit! But it'll take more than just--"

The door opened and Lodar walked in. He glanced suspiciously at the

girl, then took a look at McVane. Evidently satisfied, he straightened

up.

"I saw the latch open and wondered if the girl was still safe."

His dark glance rested impassively on her. "Have you decided to be

sensible?"

"Sure she has," Ray said quickly.

"You can't frighten me!" The girl's dark eyes were unquailing before

Lodar's. Her voice rose. "It's you who is afraid, you murderer! No

matter how you strive--"

"Shut up!" Lodar said.

"You'll never see Earth!" she ended recklessly.

Lodar spun on his heels and stalked out.

"You idiot!" Ray hissed, then hurried after Lodar. She would drive the

man to drastic action in spite of all effort to save her silly little

neck! As he locked the door, Lodar eyed him curiously.

"Quite the spitfire, isn't she?" he remarked mildly.

Ray wondered if he meant just that or if he was covering up a consuming

rage. He was still wondering about it as he uneasily went to his own

cabin. Of one thing he was sure, that Lodar would save his own skin at

any cost!

That thought kept him tossing on his bunk long after he'd snapped off

the light. He could hear the captain's restless movements in his cabin

next door. He could hear the sounds of the Number Three repair crew,

his ears were straining for the hum of the converters.

There were many noises on the _Vulcan_, softer and more furtive. The

stir of men off duty, the murmur of voices. Uneasy speculations.

Opposition to Lodar's course seemed a material thing, a tangible force

distilled of fear. Like a cross current that moved deeply. Ray scowled

at the dark ceiling of his cabin. Of course, it was only imagination.

The unusual silences. The cessation of driving power on the _Vulcan_.

These were playing tricks with his ears. The _Vulcan_ was drifting,

slowly curving off course toward the sun.

* * * * *

McVane was supervising repairs on his machines. He had moaned about

feeling sick, but Lodar had refused to listen to his pleas. For one

thing, they had drifted two days now and the _Vulcan_ had inevitably

expended its momentum against the solar pull. It had begun the long

fall sunward. And, beside the threat of being broiled, there was the

deadly danger of space rays. They would burn up a man just as surely,

even though in a different way. So haste was imperative.

It might take a week to repair the main converters. The insulation was

badly charred on the stator coils. Several were burned out completely.

So McVane was put to work.

The rattle of chain hoists and hiss of arc welder echoed hollowly

through the drifting ship. Even so, had it not been for the comforting

hum of the auxiliary generator the silence would have been maddening.

Ray had avoided seeing the girl since the death of the Mutes. Probably

she blamed him as much as the others for their murder, lumping him in a

general category of black infamy. And how could he prove to her that he

wasn't like Lodar, Campora, and the rest? Unless she could really sense

thoughts, as she hinted. It seemed preposterous, yet she might have

learned some such thing from the Mutes.

She might even know what Lodar was thinking! Ray grinned at that. Even

now the captain was probably fuming like an angry bull.

He was eating a huge meal when Ray entered his cabin to give him a

report. He continued to ladle vast quantities of hash while the young

navigator outlined the progress of repairs. Finally he threw down his

spoon and wiped his mouth.

"Those men are deliberately stalling on the job!" he snarled.

Ray didn't deny it. They'd both known it all along.

"If you'd change your mind about heading for Earth--" Ray stopped. The

dishes jumped as Lodar banged the table.

"Give in to a bunch of lousy space scum?" Lodar glared. "I know what

they're afraid of. Every one of them is a jailbird! But, by Jupiter,

I'm running this ship!"

"No one is running the ship right now," Ray said coldly. "The _Vulcan_

is falling faster every minute. Our distance from the sun--"

"I'll talk to the swabs!" Lodar's jaw bulged as he pushed away his

chair. "I'll beat out their brains if I have to!" He jerked open the

door, then stared out. "What do you want?"

Campora was standing in the corridor. At Lodar's expression he fell

back a pace, then held his ground.

"The men asked me to represent them--"

"Now, by hell!" Lodar roared. "I've had enough! Are you a First Mate or

a sniveling messenger boy for the crew? Get out of my way!"

"I want to warn you--"

"Stand aside." Lodar shoved the mate back.

"Better listen to him." Ray's voice was harsh. Lodar deserved all he

got, but there was no sense in stirring the _Vulcan_ to a charnal house

of mob violence. He knew only too well the temper of the crew after two

days of wracking tension.

"Listen to a coward like this?" Lodar sneered savagely and pointed at

Campora. "He's afraid for his own hide! But he wasn't scared to stick a

knife in a man's back on Earth! Oh, no! But now he's petrified at the

thought of a policeman. He's stirring up the crew. He's a traitor to

his rating!"

"You can't handle men when your own temper blows up!" Ray snapped.

Lodar should know that. He was an ex-fleet man.

Lodar jerked round, visibly struggling for control. "I guess you're

right," he admitted slowly, his first fury spent. He turned to the

mate, whose sallow face and slitted eyes were full of venom. "So you're

afraid of Earth and the police, the whole kit and kaboodle of you.

Well, we won't land there."

Campora looked his utter disbelief.

"We'll swing a thousand miles off Earth and I'll land in the escape

boat. You can go on to Mars, sell the _Vulcan_ to pay off the crew and

yourself." Lodar smiled grimly. "Now get out of my way!"

As the captain strode down the corridor, Campora turned bitterly to

the young navigator.

"He's lying, he's going to land on Earth. The filthy double-crosser

wants to pay us off with a stolen ship, too!" Campora grabbed Ray's

arms. "That escape boat is loaded with his takings. Thinks we're a

bunch of suckers to let him be the big shot on dear old Earth! We'll

see about that!"

"You're a fine officer!" Ray stared at the mate.

V

It was a mystery to him how Campora had ever won his position. Once

upon a time he must have had a lot of ambition, because it took a lot

of drive for a self-educated man like Campora to become an officer.

Perhaps the struggle had soured him.

Ray knew how tough it was. He'd had to fight his way, but--He stopped

in mid-thought. Actually, he was no better. They were all in the same

boat!

When Ray went aft a little later he found the repair crew working

furiously. Lodar paced back and forth between the two main converters,

his fists clenched and eyes alert. One of the crew lay sprawled in a

corner. A glance was enough. The man was dead.

Ray shrugged mentally. Lodar was within his rights, as captain, to

enforce his orders even to this extent.

Nor did Lodar relax his driving vigilance one whit as the hours dragged

by. He raged from crew to crew, hammering down all sign of opposition,

aflame with a single purpose--to repair the ship and take it to Earth.

Anger, pride, or stubbornness--it made no difference which drove

him--his mind was made up.

There was no turning him now.

"I'll run the _Vulcan_ where I wish if I have to kill every man of

you!" he raged.

Ray searched the crew's quarters and removed all likely weapons. He got

a spare key for McVane's cabin and took it to the girl.

"Better lock yourself in," he told her. "There may be trouble!"

"I know." Her dark eyes were serious. "If you would only persuade the

captain--"

"Nothing doing!" Again he felt an impulse to touch her, to hold her.

He wondered if it sprang from his own mind or hers--or was he just

nuts? But her smile, at least, sent a flood of warm relief coursing

through him as he left.

He turned to his own cabin.

As navigator, there was nothing at present for him to do. It might be

best for him to get some rest while he could. He was afraid to sleep,

but long training had taught him how to cat-nap. He relaxed, keeping an

ear trained for trouble.

The repair work must go on or the _Vulcan_ was lost, for the sun was

perilously close. Ray had been afraid to tell the crew just how close,

because the single escape ship would hold only a fraction of them.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was suddenly aware that the

sound of work had ceased. Instead he could hear the quavering notes of

McVane's voice, singing lugubriously. Plainly he was sad.

"_I'd give a thousand years in hell in pain

To see my Nelly once again!_"

And drunk!

Ray jerked on his tunic and hurried out.

In the corridor he paused at Lodar's cabin and tried the door. It was

locked. So, Lodar had gone to bed, contemptuously certain that he'd

licked the crew into shape. Which meant that Campora should be in

charge.

But there was an air of unease, of impending disaster, in the driveless

ship. Perhaps it was a result of McVane's doleful song, but Ray found

himself suddenly tense.

The ship was too quiet. No sound came from below as he went to the

well. Even McVane had quit his lament. Momentarily Ray was tempted to

see if Ellenor was all right. He decided against it, hurried along the

corridor to the crew's quarters, aft.

As soon as he stepped inside the mess room, suspicion froze him. At his

step the huddle of men had suddenly broken. The faces which turned his

way all wore the same tense look.

It was time for the payoff!

* * * * *

There would be no more talk. Their faces told him that.

Jenkins peered at Ray through his glasses. Without preamble, he

demanded, "Are you in with us or Lodar?"

It was a ridiculous question. All of Ray's training had conditioned him

to meet such emergency in only one way. Right or wrong, there was only

one answer.

He leaped back through the door and slammed it, then swung the

emergency latch and spun the sealing wheel. It would hold them for a

while--till they burned it down.

He dashed for the central well, slid down the pole in a mad spiral, and

jumped for the engine room. McVane was alone at his desk, a shrunken

figure in the glaring lights, his head slumped down on his chest.

Ray kicked the chair from under him and hauled him erect. "Get to the

control room!" he panted.

McVane's lean hand closed on his bottle, then his feet were dragging

as Ray hauled him to the well. His head wobbled as he took up the song

again.

"_She's gone and never will I see

My sweetheart, dear to me._"

"You fool!" Ray shook him violently. "There's mutiny! Up, quick!"

He propelled the smaller man up the stairs. In the main corridor he

stopped at the girl's cabin.

"Here." He shook McVane again, then handed him the keys. "Get that girl

to the control room."

While McVane fumbled at the lock Ray hammered on Lodar's cabin. It was

an age before the captain appeared. His dark eyes took in McVane and

the girl, then swept back to Ray.

"Trouble, eh?" Without waiting to hear more he reached for his gun and

joined them.

It was vital to hold the front of the ship. In any other section they

would be merely prisoners. Lodar ran swiftly past McVane and the girl,

while Ray brought up the rear, alert for attack.

So Lodar was first to enter the control room.

Ray didn't see what happened, but a moment later came the zing of ray

guns, a scream. Campora stumbled from the room. He ran past Ray, still

screaming, headed aft, waving an arm which was blasted to a stump.

Ray went on, gritting his teeth.

"Didn't expect us so soon," Lodar said grimly as they gathered in

the control room. "He figured on holding this place, but he got too

excited!" He pointed to the splatter of burned metal where Campora's

shot had missed him.

He turned to McVane who was looking sick. "Here, take this gun and

stand by." Then, as he shoved the weapon in the other's shaking hand,

"We'll jump 'em before they organize." He faced Ray. "Coming?"

Ray nodded grimly. He was playing a travesty of an officer's duty, but

it was the only way.

The two went down the passage, peering into cabins as they headed for

the well. Here Lodar slammed down the fire hatch, thus blocking off the

lower deck. He had just snapped the last wedge when Ray heard the clang

of metal aft, and the patter of feet. The crew had burned out of their

prison.

"Let's hold them here," Ray said. "I took their guns yesterday."

"Good!" Lodar stood beside him, legs outspread.

But as the first man, Williams, appeared and sighted Lodar, there was

the vicious zing of a ray gun. The wall beside Lodar erupted sizzling

metal as he ducked.

"So you took their guns!" he snarled, firing at the same time as Ray.

With yells, their attackers retreated, blasting wildly. The corridor

filled with acid smoke and red-hot metal. Half the lights were gone,

the rest were hazed by the stinking fumes. The mutineers were firing

blindly from behind a corner, depending upon mere volume rather than

any sort of aiming.

"Back up!" Lodar gasped. "Campora gave them all those weapons."

They retreated to the control room and bolted the door, while McVane

and the girl stared.

"We're in a spot," Lodar admitted.

"And we can thank you for it," Ray snapped. "This crew will have no

more compunction over killing us than they had over bumping off those

Mutes!"

"Well, now." McVane shifted his feet restlessly. "Let's not squabble.

Anyway, 'twas Campora persuaded the captain to get rid of the Mutes."

They all tensed at a sudden sound outside--metal dragging the floor and

voices. Then suddenly the smell of burning paint.

The door panel turned red, the paint peeled off, and dropped to the

deck. Within seconds a hole blazed through.

Lodar aimed his gun at the opening and fired. He grinned as a yelp

sounded, then moved beside the door to trigger several bursts along the

corridor beyond. There were horrible yells, the scurry of retreat, then

silence. Lodar stooped to peer.

"Got four of 'em," he announced. "That'll cool 'em off!"

He crossed swiftly to the chart case, heaved it aside, and slid open a

small hidden panel. He reached inside to close a switch. "This'll help

too," he added grimly. "Gas!"

"What a monster!" the girl said.

* * * * *

Lodar ignored her. He was looking at McVane. The engineer had taken a

bottle from his pocket, was stretching his scraggy neck to gurgle it.

"Can't you stay sober?" With a stride Lodar swept the bottle away and

smashed it on the deck.

"What for?" McVane slumped against the wall.

Lodar raised his hands angrily, but Ellenor moved swiftly and swung him

away from the groggy engineer.

"Let him alone!" she raged. "He doesn't care any more. You can't beat

that out of him!"

Lodar's eyes glittered. "You know too much about everything," he said

tightly.