Warily he listened. There were no other sounds along the corridor but
the one he expected, and soon the little flag on the lock went in and
the door opened. Carolyn Niles came out in pajamas and coat, her eyes
blinking slightly. "What's the--" Then she gasped. "Charles!"
"Howdedo. Any more hiding in the dark, Carolyn?"
"How did you get here?"
"I walked," he said flatly. He turned to Brenner. "You stay there,
school-master. I'm scared to death and therefore a bit touchy."
Brenner shook his head, eyeing the gun. "Sure, you're scared. I'm
scared, too."
"Relax--but do it slowly. Now turn around and make it hand over hand
along toward the salon. You follow the gentleman," he said to Carolyn.
Farradyne followed them both, mentioning that if Brenner tried any
tricks, Carolyn might get in the way of the shot intended for him. They
went up the stairway, one, two, three, and floated into the salon,
Farradyne having a bit of a time of it because of his full gun-hand. He
hooked his legs around the guardrail and eyed them coldly.
"Carolyn, let's see how good a job you can do on Brenner's wrists
with a chunk of this tape." He tossed the roll at her and she went to
Brenner, who held his hands behind him while she ran tape around the
wrists.
"I'd be willing to bet that's a slipshod job," said Farradyne. "But it
will probably hold for a while. Carolyn, coast over here and sit in the
straight chair."
Farradyne taped her to the chair by her wrists and ankles, and took
a slight hitch in the hold-down strap. He added some security to
Brenner's bonds and taped the man's ankles to the legs of the divan.
Then he propped the still unconscious man up near Brenner and taped him
similarly.
Now he took time to go below and collect the third man from his cabin
and bring him up; the man struggled against the wide tape and glared at
Farradyne over the plaster on his lips. Farradyne hurled him backside
first at the divan and followed him, catching him on the rebound. He
taped the man as he had the others, and then took a small flight to the
bar, where he perched on top by hooking his feet around one of the bar
stools.
"Aren't we a good-looking bunch?" he chuckled. "Shall we sing?"
"Stop it, Farradyne," snapped Brenner.
* * * * *
Farradyne's twisted smile faded.
"I'm telling who to do what, Brenner. We'll play this game according to
my rules for a while."
"You can't get away with it."
"Nuts. I should think you would feel a bit awkward, for a conqueror."
"I can stand it for a time. But the sooner you free us, the--"
Farradyne laughed, one loud humorless bark. "So I'm still your
prisoner?"
"In a way. You wouldn't want to die without telling what you know about
us. You'll do anything to stay alive."
"You damn well bet! And I'll do anything to learn a bit more about it,
too."
"You can't make me talk."
"Want to bet? I don't think I could squeeze anything out of you by
torture, Brenner, but I have a hunch you'll sing loud and long after
you watch me take Carolyn's fingernails off with long-nosed pliers,
and listen to her screaming."
Carolyn looked at Farradyne coldly. "Charles, I don't think you have
enough sadism to perform that operation on me."
Farradyne looked at her. He held enough dislike of what she stood for
to do almost anything; but she was still a woman and he knew that she
was right: he simply didn't have the requisite sadism. Even though it
would be a just retribution.
Carolyn sniffed cynically, and Farradyne realized that he had
mumbled the last few words of his thoughts. She repeated them: "Just
retribution, perhaps, Charles--but have you the guts?"
He looked down at her. "No, it seems I haven't. But I've someone with
me who might."
He took aim and sailed down the stairs. He soared around the stateroom
corridor and ran full-tilt into someone coming the opposite way. He
hurled the figure from him and recoiled, and when he caught himself
again, he had one hand braced against the handrail and the pistol aimed
at the middle of Norma's stomach. He let out his breath and relaxed his
gun hand.
She looked at the gun and her face went white with the realization of
how close it had been. She looked at him searchingly, as if seeking
company for her fright. She apparently found it, for her face relaxed
and she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she fought the
hem of her skirt down again and blushed.
Farradyne chuckled shakily. "Go into Number Four and swipe a pair of
Carolyn Niles' pajamas," he said. "They don't float. Then come on up to
the salon."
He turned and headed back slowly, stalling until he heard her return to
the corridor.
* * * * *
He went up first and helped her make the curve around the railing at
the top. Solicitously, Farradyne steered her to the divan and fastened
the seat-strap.
Then he faced Carolyn and the rest. "Speaking of retribution," he said
slowly, "I'd like you to meet a woman I know. Miss Norma Hannon. She's
a love-lotus addict, you know. Whatever she is and whatever she does
is basically your own damned fault." He said directly to Carolyn, "I
couldn't do it. But I think that Miss Hannon might enjoy a bit of an
emotional binge with the people who fed her the first hellflower and
caused the death of her brother."
Farradyne turned and sailed across the salon to land at Norma's side.
He reached out and removed the love lotus from Norma's hair, and
re-crossed the room to hurl it into the disposal chute.
"Just sit there quietly until the effects of that thing wear off," he
told her. "I'm going to make a tour of inspection."
Farradyne turned and dived down the stairway again. He did not know how
long it might take, especially after Norma had been literally sleeping
in a smothering roomful of the things for hours. Probably take long
enough for them all to get the whim-whams just thinking about it, he
concluded.
He conned every stateroom on his way down. He was reasonably certain
that the ruckus would have awakened them all, but he wanted to make
sure that no one of them was lying doggo until he could make his bid.
They were all empty. Farradyne went on down in the Lancaster, checking
the supply-rooms, the galley, the workshop, the other cargo lock, the
storage room. He looked into the inspection cubbies and wiring hatches
until he had covered every nook and cranny in the Lancaster that was
large enough to contain a human being.
The ship was clean.
He stopped once more to eye the four metal cases bolted to the floor.
He went up, then, all the way.
"Any talk?" he asked brightly as he soared through the salon.
"Farradyne, you can't do this!" rasped Brenner.
Farradyne ignored him. Norma was still sitting on the divan, in the
same position. But her face was losing its softness and her attention
was no longer diverted so easily. "I'm waiting," she told him as he
passed upward to the control room.
Somehow, Farradyne believed that she would not have very long to wait.