It was chromazone again. Muller had kept most of the gang from coming
back to hydroponics, but he, Jenny, Pietro, Wilcox and myself were
enough to fill the room with the smell of sick fear. Now less than
half of the original space was filled with healthy plants. Some of the
tanks held plants already dead, and others were dying as we watched;
once beyond a certain stage, the stuff acted almost instantly--for
hours there was only a slight indication of something wrong, and then
suddenly there were the dead, bleached plants.
Wilcox was the first to speak. He still looked like some nattily
dressed hero of a space serial, but his first words were ones that
could never have gone out on a public broadcast. Then he shrugged.
"They must have been poisoned while we were all huddled over Sam's
body. Who wasn't with us?"
"Nonsense," Pietro denied. "This was done at least eighteen hours ago,
maybe more. We'd have to find who was around then."
"Twenty hours, or as little as twelve," Jenny amended. "It depends on
the amount of the dosage, to some extent. And...." She almost managed
to blush. "Well, there have been a lot of people around. I can't even
remember. Mr. Grundy and one of the men, Mr. Wilcox, Dr. Napier--oh, I
don't know!"
Muller shook his head in heavy agreement. "Naturally. We had a lot of
work to do here. After word got around about Hendrix, we didn't try to
conceal much. It might have happened when someone else was watching,
too. The important thing, gentlemen, is that now we don't have reserve
enough to carry us to Saturn. The plants remaining can't handle the
air for all of us. And while we ship some reserve oxygen...."
He let it die in a distasteful shrug. "At least this settles one
thing. We have no choice now but to return to Earth!"
"Captain Muller," Pietro bristled quickly, "that's getting to be a
monomania with you. I agree we are in grave danger. I don't relish the
prospect of dying any more than you do--perhaps less, in view of
certain peculiarities! But it's now further back to Earth than it is
to Saturn. And before we can reach either, we'll have new plants--or
we'll be dead!"
"Some of us will be dead, Dr. Pietro," Wilcox amended it. "There are
enough plants left to keep some of us breathing indefinitely."
Pietro nodded. "And I suppose, in our captain's mind, that means the
personnel of the ship can survive. Captain Muller, I must regard your
constant attempt to return to Earth as highly suspicious in view of
this recurrent sabotage of the expedition. Someone here is apparently
either a complete madman or so determined to get back that he'll
resort to anything to accomplish his end. And you have been harping on
returning over and over again!"
Muller bristled, and big heavy fist tightened. Then he drew himself up
to his full dumpy height. "Dr. Pietro," he said stiffly, "I am as
responsible to my duties as any man here--and my duties involve
protecting the life of every man and woman on board; if you wish to
return, I shall be _most_ happy to submit this to a formal board of
inquiry. I--"
"Just a minute," I told them. "You two are forgetting that we've got a
problem here. Damn it, I'm sick of this fighting among ourselves.
We're a bunch of men in a jam, not two camps at war now. I can't see
any reason why Captain Muller would want to return that badly."
Muller nodded slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Tremaine. However, for the
record, and to save you trouble investigating there is a good reason.
My company is now building a super-liner; if I were to return within
the next six months, they'd promote me to captain of that ship--a
considerable promotion, too."
For a moment, his honesty seemed to soften Pietro. The scientist
mumbled some sort of apology, and turned to the plants. But it
bothered me; if Muller had pulled something, the smartest thing he
could have done would be to have said just what he did.
Besides, knowing that Pietro's injunction had robbed him of a chance
like that was enough to rankle in any man's guts and make him work up
something pretty close to insanity. I marked it down in my mental
files for the investigation I was supposed to make, but let it go for
the moment.
Muller stood for a minute longer, thinking darkly about the whole
situation. Then he moved toward the entrance to hydroponics and pulled
out the ship speaker mike. "All hands and passengers will assemble in
hydroponics within five minutes," he announced. He swung toward
Pietro. "With your permission, Doctor," he said caustically.
The company assembled later looked as sick as the plants. This time,
Muller was hiding nothing. He outlined the situation fully; maybe he
shaded it a bit to throw suspicion on our group, but in no way we
could pin down. Finally he stated flatly that the situation meant
almost certain death for at least some of those aboard.
"From now on, there'll be a watch kept. This is closed to everyone
except myself, Dr. Pietro, Mr. Peters, and Dr. Jenny Sanderson. At
least one of us will be here at all times, equipped with gas guns.
Anyone else is to be killed on setting foot inside this door!" He
swung his eyes over the group. "Any objections?"
* * * * *
Grundy stirred uncomfortably. "I don't go for them science guys up here.
Takes a crazy man to do a thing like this, and everybody knows...."
Eve Nolan laughed roughly. "Everybody knows you've been swearing you
won't go the whole way, Grundy. These jungle tactics should be right
up your alley."
"That's enough," Muller cut through the beginnings of the hassle. "I
trust those I appointed--at least more than I do the rest of you. The
question now is whether to return to Earth at once or to go on to
Saturn. We can't radio for help for months yet. We're not equipped
with sharp beams, we're low powered, and we're off the lanes where
Earth's pick-ups hunt. Dr. Pietro wants to go on, since we can't get
back within our period of safety; I favor returning, since there is no
proof that this danger will end with this outrage. We've agreed to let
the result of a vote determine it."
Wilcox stuck up a casual hand, and Muller nodded to him. He grinned
amiably at all of us. "There's a third possibility, Captain. We can
reach Jupiter in about three months, if we turn now. It's offside, but
closer than anything else. From there, on a fast liner, we can be back
on Earth in another ten days."
Muller calculated, while Peters came up to discuss it. Then he nodded.
"Saturn or Jupiter, then. I'm not voting, of course. Bullard is
disqualified to vote by previous acts." He drew a low moan from the
sick figure of Bullard for that, but no protest. Then he nodded. "All
those in favor of Jupiter, your right hands please!"
I counted them, wondering why my own hand was still down. It made some
sort of sense to turn aside now. But none of our group was voting--and
all the others had their hands up, except for Dr. Napier. "Seven,"
Muller announced. "Those in favor of Saturn."
Again, Napier didn't vote. I hesitated, then put my hand up. It was
crazy, and Pietro was a fool to insist. But I knew that he'd never get
another chance if this failed, and....
"Eight," Muller counted. He sighed, then straightened. "Very well, we
go on. Dr. Pietro, you will have my full support from now on. In
return, I'll expect every bit of help in meeting this emergency. Mr.
Tremaine was correct; we cannot remain camps at war."
Pietro's goatee bobbed quickly, and his hand went out. But while most
of the scientists were nodding with him, I caught the dark scowl of
Grundy, and heard the mutters from the deckhands and the engine men.
If Muller could get them to cooperate, he was a genius.
Pietro faced us, and his face was serious again. "We can hasten the
seeding of the plants a little, I think, by temperature and
light-and-dark cycle manipulations. Unfortunately, these aren't
sea-algae plants, or we'd be in comparatively little trouble. That was
my fault in not converting. We can, however, step up their efficiency
a bit. And I'm sure we can find some way to remove the carbon dioxide
from the air."
"How about oxygen to breathe?" Peters asked.
"That's the problem," Pietro admitted. "I was wondering about
electrolyzing water."