Carter roared, "Get back from there. There is no truce!"

I shoved aside his leveled projector. "Wait a minute, Miko. Navigate

where?"

"That is our business. When you come out here, I will give you the

course."

I realized that all this parley was a ruse of Miko's to take me alive.

He had made a gesture. Hahn, watching him from the turret window,

doubtless flashed a signal down to the hull corridors. The magnetizer

control under the chart room was altered, our artificial gravity cut

off. I felt the sudden lightness: I gripped the window casement and

clung. Carter was startled into incautious movement. It flung him out

into the room, his arms and legs flailing.

And across the chart room, in the opposite window, I felt rather than

saw the shape of something. A figure, almost invisible but not quite,

was trying to climb in! I flung the empty rifle I was holding. It hit

something solid in the window. In a flare of sparks a blackhooded

figure materialized. A man climbing in! His weapon spat. There was a

tiny electronic flash, deadly silent. The intruder had shot at Carter:

struck him. Carter gave one queer scream. He had floated to the floor;

his convulsive movement when he was hit hurled him to the ceiling. His

body struck; twitched; bounced back and sank inert on the floor grid

almost at my feet.

I clung to the casement. Across the room of the weightless room the

hooded intruder was also clinging. His hood fell back. It was Johnson.

"Killed him, the bully! Now for you, Mr. Third Officer Haljan!"

But he did not dare fire at me. Miko had forbidden it. I saw him reach

under his robe, doubtless for a low-powered paralyzing ray. But he

never got it out. I had no weapon within reach. I leaned into the

room, still holding the casement, and doubled my legs under me. I

kicked out from the window.

The force catapulted me across the space across the room like a

volplane. I struck the purser. We gripped. Our locked, struggling

bodies bounced out into the room. We struck the floor, surged up like

balloons to the ceiling, struck it with a flailing arm or leg and

floated back.

Grotesque, abnormal combat! Like fighting in weightless water. Johnson

clutched his weapon, but I twisted his wrist, held his arm

outstretched so that he could not aim it. I was aware of Miko's voice

shouting on the deck outside.

Johnson's left hand was gouging at my face, his fingers digging at my

eyes. We lunged down.

I twisted his wrists. He dropped the weapon and it sank away, I tried

to reach it but could not.... Then I had him by the throat. I was

stronger than he, and more agile. I tried choking him, I had his thick

bull neck within my fingers. He kicked, scrambled, tore and gouged at

me. Tried to shout, but it ended in a gurgle. And then, as he felt his

breath stopped, his hands came up in an effort to tear mine loose.

We sank again to the floor. We were momentarily upright. I felt my

feet touch. I bent my knees. We sank further. And then I kicked

violently upward. Our locked bodies shot to the ceiling. Johnson's

head was above me. It struck the steel roof of the chart room. A

violent blow. I felt him go suddenly limp. I cast him off and,

doubling my body, I kicked at the ceiling. It sent me diagonally

downward to the window, where I clung.

And I saw Miko standing on the deck with a weapon leveled at me!

Brigands of the Moon · 第 67 / 215 题