Carolyn's shrill laugh drowned his weak voice.
* * * * *
The radio went on, as accursedly unanswerable as always:
"Farradyne's spacecraft has been trapped and fired upon, and now has
been flushed from cover. The criminal is hoping to flee through the
most thorough sky-cover that has ever been assembled. He cannot hope
to win through, ladies and gentlemen. I wish we had video here in the
early morning light, so that you could see this vivid spectacle of the
eternal battle between the forces of good and evil!
"But we'll all be there when Farradyne goes down to the death in flame
he so richly deserves. Above him now are the jet bombers and above them
are squadron upon squadron of Terran Space Guard ships, and above them
lie the Interplanetary Space Guard to fire the final coup de grace if
Farradyne can run this gauntlet of righteous wrath that far.
"His flare trail is dimmed by the pinpoints of flashing death that
seek him out. On every side of me are ships spewing torpedoes, guided
missiles with target-seeking radar in their sleek noses, that will end
this reign of terror once they find their mark. It--"
The radio clicked audibly and a forceful voice came on:
"Attention! Attention all listeners! Attention Spacecraft Lancaster
and Charles Farradyne! This is the office of The Secretary of Solar
Defense, Undersecretary Marshall White speaking. All persons, whether
official or unofficial, whether citizen or military, are hereby charged
with the safety of Charles Farradyne and the Lancaster model Eighty
One in Farradyne's possession. This is a 'Cease Fire' order. All
persons are hereby ordered to offer Charles Farradyne whatever he may
request in the nature of manpower, machinery, supplies, protection,
and safe-conduct; so that he may deliver his spacecraft to the Terran
Arsenal at Terra Haute, Indiana."
Morgan scowled at Farradyne.