George was at the controls of the ship. As his hand hovered at the
firing stud, he heard someone enter behind him. He turned.
It was the starman. His hair was matted with blood. There was a wild,
rebellious glint in his eyes. He snarled like an animal.
"She hit me!" he cried. And then he smashed a fist into George's face.
George went down and the starman stepped across him to the control
panel. His resentment had been accumulating for a life time. He had
just sabotaged two ships and sent his fellow starmen to death at the
orders of the Oligarch; and he must have known (even if he told himself
otherwise) that he, too, would not return to Brionimar: that alone of
all who had been on the surface of Earth, the Oligarch would survive.
But even in this knowledge, he had still remained loyal, caught like
Herb, like his whole civilization, by the specter of chaos and held
helpless. But now, thinking the destruction of Earth a certainty,
his resentment rechanneled, he was able to strike--even kill, if
necessary--the Oligarch in order to revenge himself upon the Earth girl
who had struck him.
He snapped on the scanner and searched the airport. He saw Norma climb
into the jeep. He sent the spider ship lumbering toward her. The jeep
began to run.
The spider legs moved faster, and the ship, like a drunk, lurched
awkwardly across the runway in pursuit. He was no pilot, but his hands
jerked levers and twisted wheels and the ship moved. He sighted the
underbelly heat ray.
Just as he depressed the firing lever, the ship stumbled across a
transport plane that lay passively interdicting its path. The ship
veered sharply to the left, throwing the sighting off target and
causing the ray to turn the ground molten short of the speeding car.
The starman struggled to right his vehicle.
George found his weapon. He was numb and horrified. _If Norma were
actually killed ... if Bud found out...!_
George moved his weapon slowly so as not to attract the starman's
attention. He was terribly, desperately frightened and unsure of
himself.
The starman reached again for the firing lever. George shot twice. The
starman's hand fluttered as if in indecision, and George shot again.
The starman fell backwards, and the ship shuddered to a stop.
George rolled to his feet. If Norma were not already dead, he must
recapture her.
* * * * *
The C.I.D. man arrived in time to see the fantastic sight of a red and
silver, tri-legged Leviathan from space stumbling after a surplus jeep.
He slammed his car to a halt before the army guard station and cried,
"Shoot him! Shoot him!" Demonstrating, he fired wildly in the direction
of the jeep. "C.I.D.!" he cried. "Shoot, damn it!"
Herb heard the sinister pop of the hand gun and, glancing out of the
corner of his eye, saw the rifles aligning themselves in his direction.
He huddled lower over the wheel and screamed to Norma, "Hold on!"
Norma was transfixed with terror. The huge spider ship seemed almost
upon them.
Herb was going too fast for the quick turn he attempted. The steering
wheel was wrenched from his hand, and the jeep, like a tripped animal,
twisted and threw itself to the ground and rolled over.
At the first bone shattering crash, Norma slammed into Herb, and his
head cracked the steering wheel solidly.
Far to the west, the sky flashed dull red as the first spider ship
exploded in flight. The sky flashed red again. Soldiers were running
toward the wreck when the first shock wave rolled in.
In giant strides, George brought his own ship to the overturned jeep.
It straddled the wreck like a defiant parent and seemed to challenge
the advancing soldiers. George hurried to the port.
He slammed the door back and cried, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" The
outer ladder fell away at the touch of his hand, and a second later his
feet were hurrying down it.
Once on the ground, he was at the jeep in a heart beat. There was no
blood, but both figures were very still. "Help me!" he cried to the
arriving soldiers.
Two came forward, laid aside their guns, and together, with gentle
hands, lifted Norma and then Herb free of the wreckage.
When they were stretched out on the ground, George knelt. Perspiration
wetted his upper lip. He poised above Norma, seeking some sign of life,
and he was aware of Herb stirring uneasily to his rear. Norma's eyelids
fluttered, and a wave of relief and exultation enveloped George.
"She's all right," George said loudly. "Make sure the newspapers carry
that. The girl is all right."
"Who is she?"
"She's one of ours," the Oligarch said with nice possessiveness. Bud
would know better: that was all that mattered. He would know that the
girl was Norma and that the girl was safe. The delicate equation of his
decision was once more in balance. "Help me get them aboard the ship."
A small crowd was gathering, and an Army major pushed his way forward.
The C.I.D. man, over-awed by the Oligarch's presence, and uncertain of
what to do now, held back watching.
"What's this?" the major demanded. "What's this?"
George stood up. "It's our personal problem. This renegade--"
"Is he the one who escaped from you? The nutty one?"
"Yes," George said.
"What about your other two ships? They exploded. They just exploded."
Instantly the surrounding Earthmen rustled suspiciously.
"He--" George said.... "It was sabotage. He is responsible. Terrible.
Terrible. I'm stunned. We haven't any time to waste. I've got to
get this girl back to our big ship out there in space for medical
attention."
"We've sent for a doctor," the major said stiffly.
"We have doctors. For God's sake, man, help me get them aboard. There's
no time to stand here talking. We have advanced techniques, if I can
only get there in time, that may mean the difference between life and
death...."
The major hesitated. "All right. You two soldiers--take the girl up the
ladder."
"Herb, too," the Oligarch said. "If he survives, he will be tried."
The major grunted at two more soldiers.
* * * * *
George followed them up the ladder. He greeted the capture of Herb with
bitterness. The game was over; he had been denied the excitement of it
being played out. And yet there was relief: although he had once more
been thrust into a role of player, it was not of his own volition. The
conspiracy of events had released him from free choice. It was not his
fault that it was necessary to remove Herb prematurely from the arena.
He was uncomfortably aware that the major was following him.
Inside the ship, George directed the soldiers to put their burdens
in the first compartment to the left. Then he turned to the major.
"Your prompt action may well have saved her life." He was tense and
frightened. Now that he was sure it would be reported that a girl had
been returned to the ship and hurried to medical attention, it was of
paramount importance to get the soldiers and the major out of the ship.
If Norma were unexpectedly to recover and begin to talk, the major
might prove difficult to handle.
The crush of danger hung upon him. An instant, in which he wished to
surrender and confess, was transplanted by dedication to victory. The
sense of mission returned.
"I don't think I should permit you to leave, sir," the major said
politely. "I've thought it over."
"Sir?"
"In view of what happened to the other two ships. How do you know this
one hasn't been sabotaged, too? In your understandable anxiousness to
get this girl...."
"I'm sure," George said evenly. "I tell you this ship is all right."
"Well, how do you know? Obviously, you knew the other two ships were
all right, too; only they weren't...."
The Oligarch restrained an impulse to command. "This is too important a
matter to delay with explanations."
The four soldiers clustering around the major seemed ominous.
"Our doctor will be here in a moment. Immediate aid can be given the
girl."
George's hands trembled with rage and maddening anxiety. "I am going to
takeoff immediately. Explanations can come later when the girl has been
treated. I will hold you personally responsible for any further delay."
He went toward the control room.
The major started to follow.
The Oligarch whirled to face him. "You will be responsible for her
death. I am going to leave. If necessary, I will take all of you with
me. You will have to use force to stop me."
The major stood with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. There
was silence. The fists slowly unclenched.
"I would advise you to get off the ship at once," George said. He
turned once more. This time he did not look back.
A thrill of uncertainty grew within the major. He swallowed stiffly
and then snapped angrily to the waiting soldiers, "All right, get the
lead out! Let's go! Let's go, let's go!" He seemed to want to push them
physically toward the exit.
* * * * *
The Oligarch was in the control room by the time they dropped off the
ladder to the ground. A flick of the switch, and the ladder retreated.
The ship trembled. A savage jab, and the ship became airborne. It was
too late now for them to stop him. He had made a successful escape. He
was weak with reaction. A few moments more....
He studied the dials. Earth fell away.
He could hurry. He only need save enough fuel for a tie in. He waited
impatiently for altitude. Earth shrank. The features of her surface
blurred. A cloud occluded her face completely. The air resistance
lessened. Gravity weakened. He was able to pour the fuel into the space
jets. He fired the first and second banks. Fuel gauges descended.
Acceleration pressed against him like a hand. More jets. He was in
a hurry. His mission was accomplished. Within two hours he would be
out of the danger area of the Earth explosion. But he was not overly
worried about that. He did not expect it until an hour or so after
sunrise over Washington.
He locked the ship on automatic. Time enough later to finish computing
the trajectory.
He was now free to dispose of Herb and Norma.
The sense of elation increased as he left the control room. He fingered
his hand weapon and smiled to himself. Less than a minute later, he
stepped into the doorway of the room containing the two people, his gun
raised.