They went in and up the ladders into the sealed storage space next the
convict quarters. There was a huge cylinder of lead suspended over the
mouth of the duct from the extractor.
"They must collect the stuff when they bring oil and supplies," said
Loris. "Well, MacVickers, what happens to us now?"
MacVickers looked at them, the lines deep in his face. "We all
agree, don't we, that there's no hope of escape? If we wait until
the next supply ship comes and try to take it, we lose the chance of
doing--well, call it our duty if you want to. That is, to wreck their
only source of the explosive that's winning the war for them.
"I think you know," he added, "what our chances of taking that ship
would be, without offensive weapons or any protection against theirs.
It would only mean a return to this slavery, if they didn't kill us all
outright."
His grey-green eyes were somber, deeply bright.
"It comes down to this. Shall we turn this bell into a disintegrator
bomb, setting the Jovium free to destroy its own and every other
metallic atom in the mud, or shall we gamble our worlds on the slim
chance of saving our necks?"
Loris looked down at the deck and said softly, "Why should we worry
about our necks, MacVickers? You've saved our souls."
"Agreed, then, all you men?"
Birek looked them over. "The man who refuses will have no neck to
save," he said.
There was no disagreement.
MacVickers turned to the leaden cylinder. It was fixed to the duct by a
plastic-lined, lead-sheathed collar. There was an arrangement whereby a
plug could be driven into the open mouth of the filled cylinder without
spilling a grain of the stuff.
MacVickers reached up and loosed the apparatus that held the cylinder
upright. It fell over with a shattering crash. A palely glowing powder
puffed out, settling over the adjacent metal.
MacVickers had one second of terror. An eerie bluish light grew,
throwing faces into strong relief. Pendleton, praying silently. Loris,
smiling. The blue-sheathed Earthman with closed eyes, his face a mask
of peace. The others, facing a death they understood and welcomed. All
of them, thinking of three little worlds that could go on living their
own lives.
Birek grinned at him. "I'm glad you ran away," he whispered.
MacVickers grinned back.