I had no intention of flinging myself onto a bunk. I let them do
it, ran into the next chamber and hurled the door closed behind me.
My order had carried throughout the station. In each of the rooms,
otherwise soundproof, my order to lie down had been heard and followed.
I had counted upon the gradual raising of the wheel by the mirrors, and
the tremendous pressure of the hundreds of blower vents, to create the
illusion of upward motion. I had counted also on the Old Companions
having no more idea than the average man in the street of what actually
happened when a space ship took off. When the jet of one of those air
vents hit a Neanderthal in the face, he naturally believed it to be the
pressure on him of an accelerating motion straight up. And he listened
to my broadcast advice, and hit for the bunks.
In the first room I found five Neanderthals, all hastily buckling
straps across themselves and whining fearfully. I had no more time for
mercy, no more inclination for it than had these beasts themselves.
Standing in the center of the chamber, I rotated slowly and put a
bullet into each ugly face. Then I pounced on the next door.
Here there were four, and I suddenly realized I had no more than one
bullet left in the revolver. I saw a tommygun beside a bunk. I went
for it, knelt, and as my fingers touched it a hand came down on the
back of my neck and clutched ferociously.
"What you doing?" snarled the Old Companion, lifting me and breathing
into my face.
Seconds count, seconds.... I knew that after a minute or two of nothing
but slow vibration and hurricane breeze, Skagarach or somebody would
realize that we were still anchored to Terra. The machine gun was in my
hand now. I brought up its muzzle like a lance jerked underhand; the
sight tore the beast's chin and lip, turned up his nose and the blood
gushed. He recoiled, and I had the weapon in my hands and was stepping
back and the chattering began. I made a massacre and went on.
There was a scientist among the Old Companions in the next section of
the wheel. My illusion must have been _good_--he had strapped himself
down too! I sprayed the bunks with leaden death and then roared at him:
"Come on! Get a couple of guns and come on! We are taking over this
moon!"
There were three small chambers next with perhaps a dozen Old
Companions shivering in them, and I left those chambers a
gore-spattered, reeking ruin. The trembling of the station had slowed
now, but the great wind that swept every corner still held the
terrified brutes to their straps and beds. I picked up another of the
scientists and was joined by the first one. Three of us marched through
gleaming steel and chrome, soft white light and antiseptic cleanliness,
marched at triple time and dealt death from heated barrels and rattling
magazines.
We met Nessa and Howard. By now my arms were trembling and the sweat of
fury and work was half blinding me. I grinned at them and took time to
rub a sleeve across my eyes. "We're winning," I said. Nessa said _ohh_
in a tiny sound of heartfelt thanksgiving. Howard said, "I managed to
knock out that broad homely chap," which for some reason struck me as
funny, and I passed them, laughing aloud. They followed me.
The fake was wearing thin. Now we found Neanderthals on their feet,
puzzled and still frightened, but beginning to wonder why they were
able to stand at all if we were in flight. Now we found enemies who, if
given the chance, shot back. Now it was no pogrom, but a war.
Yet gradually we worked our way through the wheel, and although two of
our scientists dropped, we had surprise and luck with us.
I came to a door that I could not open. Tucking the gun under my arm--I
had long ago run out of ammo for the first, and found myself another in
the grasp of an Old Companion with a scarlet smear for a face--I hurled
my shoulder against the thick steel of the panel. It opened grudgingly.
What had held it was the corpse of a Neanderthal. I had come full
circle, not even noticing that I had passed through the control room
and the chamber where Cuff and Skagarach should have been lying. The
Old Companions were dead or dying, those of this muster at least, but
the two most dangerous had vanished.
I made sure that Howard was armed. The last two scientists had now
joined us. I sent the three of them back along our bloody route, and
with Nessa held protectively against my side I went forward, scouting
cautiously and examining every compartment. I met Howard on the
opposite side of the wheel.
We had not found Bill Cuff nor the yellow-haired fox.