"Yeah," said Jordan. "Now get to the rocket."
"What can I do when I get there? You'll have to help me."
"You'll figure something out when the time comes. Hurry up!"
"Not without you," said Docchi stubbornly, without moving.
[Illustration]
A huge paw clamped around the back of his skull. "Listen to me,"
whispered Jordan fiercely. "Together we were a better man than the
pilot--your legs and my arms. It's up to us to prove that separately
we are a match for Cameron and his geepees."
"We're not trying to _prove_ anything," said Docchi.
A brilliant light sliced through the darkness and swept around the
rocket dome.
"Maybe we are," said Jordan. Impatiently, he hitched himself along the
ground. "I think I am."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going up. With no legs, that's where I belong."
He grasped the structural steel member in his great hands, and in the
light gravity, ascended rapidly.
"Careful," warned Docchi.
"This is no time to be careful." His voice floated down from high in
the lacy structure. It wasn't completely dark; the lights were getting
nearer. Docchi decided it was possible for Jordan to see what he was
doing.
They hadn't expected to be discovered so soon. But the issue had not
yet been settled against them. Docchi settled into a long stride,
avoiding the low-slung repair robots that seemed to be everywhere. If
Jordan refused to give up, Docchi had to try.
He stayed well ahead of the oncoming general purpose robots.
* * * * *
He reached the rocket and barely had time to look around. It was
enough, however. The ship's passenger and freight locks were closed.
Nona had either not understood all their instructions, or she hadn't
been able to carry them out. The first, probably. She had put the
light and scanning circuits out of commission with no tools except her
hands. That and her uncanny knowledge of the inner workings of
machines. It was too much to expect that she should also have the ship
ready and waiting for them.
It was up to him to get in. If he had the toaster they'd taken from
the pilot, he might have been able to soften the proper area of the
passenger lock. But he didn't. Not having arms, he couldn't have used
it. For that reason Jordan had kept the weapon.
The alternative was to search the surrounding mechanical jungle for an
external control of the rocket. There had to be one, at least for the
airlocks. Then it was a matter of luck whether he could work it.
The approaching lights warned him that he no longer had that
alternative. If Cameron hadn't tried to search the rocket dome as he
came along, the geepees would be solidly ringed around the ship now.
That was Cameron's mistake, however, and he might make more.
In all probability Jordan was still at large. Perhaps nearby. Would
Cameron know that? He might not.
Docchi descended into the shallow landing pit. Until both of them were
caught, there was always a chance. He had to hide, but the landing pit
seemed remarkably ill-suited for that purpose.
He leaned against the stern tube cluster and tried to shake his brain
into activity. The metal pressed hard into the thin flesh that covered
his back. In the smooth glazed surface of the landing pit, the only
answer was the tubes.
He straightened up and looked into them. A small boy might climb
inside and crawl out of sight. Or a grown man who had no shoulders or
arms to get wedged in the narrow cylinder.
Out in space, the inner ends of the tubes were closed with a
combustion cap wherein the fuel was ignited. But in the dome, where
the ship was not used for months at a time....
Yes, there was that possibility.
He tried a lower tube. He lay on the floor and thrust his head inside.
He wriggled and shoved with his feet until he had forced himself
entirely in. It was dark and terrifying, but no time for
claustrophobia.
He stopped momentarily and listened. A geepee descended noisily into
the landing pit. The absence of any other sound indicated to Docchi
that it was radio-controlled.
He drove himself on, though it was slow progress. The walls were
smooth and it was difficult to get much purchase. The going became
even tougher--the tube was getting smaller. Not much, but enough to
matter.
Again he stopped. Outside, there was the characteristic sputter, like
frying, that the toaster beam made when it struck metal. A great
clatter followed.
"Get him!" shouted Cameron. "He's up there!"
Jordan had arrived and had picked off a geepee. And it wasn't going to
be easy for Cameron to capture him. The diversion would help.
"Don't use heat," ordered Cameron. "Get your lights on him. Blind him.
Drive him in a corner and then go up and get him."
Docchi had been wrong; the geepees were controlled by voice, not
radio. That would make it easier for him once he got inside the ship.
If he did.
It looked as though he would. The tube wasn't getting narrower. More
important, the air was not noticeably stale. The combustion cap had
been retracted, which was a lucky break. His feet slipped. It didn't
matter; somehow he inched along. Blood was pounding in his veins from
the constriction, but his head emerged in the rocket.
He stared at the retracted combustion cap a few feet away. If he had
arms, he could grasp it and pull himself free. But if he had arms, he
would never have gotten this far. He wriggled until his body was
nearly out and only his legs were in the tube. He kicked hard, fell to
the floor.
He lay there while his head cleared, then rolled to his feet and
staggered forward to the control compartment. The rocket was his, but
he didn't want it for himself alone.
He stared thoughtfully at the instrument panel. It had been a long
time since he had operated a ship. When he understood the controls, he
bent down and thrust his chin against the gravital dial. Laboriously
he turned it to the proper setting. Then he sat down and kicked on a
switch. The ship rocked and rose a few inches.
Chances were that Cameron wouldn't notice that in the confusion
outside. If he did, he had thirty seconds in which to stop Docchi.
That wouldn't be enough for Cameron.
"Rocket landing," said Docchi when the allotted time passed.
"Emergency instructions. Emergency instructions. Stand by." Strictly
speaking, that wasn't necessary, for the frequency he was using
assured him of complete control.
"All energized geepees lend assistance. This order supersedes previous
orders. Additional equipment necessary." After listing the equipment,
he sat back and chuckled.
With his knee he turned on the external lights, got up and walked to
the passenger lock, brushing against the switch. The airlock opened.
He stood boldly at the threshold and looked out. The rocket dome was
floodlighted by the ship.
"All right, Jordan, you can come down now," he called.
Jordan appeared overhead, hanging from a beam. He swung along it until
he reached a column, down which he descended. He propelled himself
over the floor and up the ramp in his awkward fashion. Balancing on
his hands, he gazed up at Docchi.
"Well, monster, how did you do it?"
"Monster yourself," said Docchi. "Do what?"
"I saw you crawl in the rocket tubes," said Jordan. "But what did you
do after you got inside?"
"Cameron's a medic," said Docchi, "not mechanically inclined. He
forgot that an emergency rocket landing cancels any verbal orders. So
I took the ship up a few inches. Geepees aren't very bright; that
satisfied them that I was coming in for a landing. What Cameron should
have done was splash some heat against a gravital unit, and then,
having created an artificial emergency condition in the main dome, he
could have directed the geepees from the gravity control center. After
that, he would have had top priority, not me."
"But they rushed off, carrying Cameron with them." Jordan looked
puzzled.
"Easy. I told the geepees that there was danger of crashing and that
they must remove any human beings nearby, whether they were willing or
not. You weren't nearby and that let you out. They took Cameron
because he was."
"It's ours!" breathed Jordan. "But what about Anti and Nona?"
"Anti's taken care of. As far as the geepees are concerned, she comes
under the heading of emergency landing material. They'll bring her.
Nona is supposed to be waiting with Anti." Docchi frowned. "There's
nothing we can do if she isn't. Meanwhile you'd better get ready to
take the ship off."
Jordan swung himself inside.
Docchi remained at the passenger lock, waiting. He heard the geepees
first and saw them seconds later. They came into sight half pushing,
half carrying a huge rectangular tank. With unexpected robotic
ingenuity, they had mounted it on four of their smaller brethren, the
squat repair robots, which served to support the tremendous weight.
The tank was filled with blue liquid. Twisted pipes dangled from the
ends; it had been torn and lifted from its foundation. Broken plants
still clung to the narrow ledge on top and moist soil adhered to the
sides. Five geepees pushed it rapidly toward the ship, mechanically
oblivious to the disheveled man who frustratedly shouted and struck at
them.
"Jordan, open the freight lock."
In response the ship rose a few more inches and hung quivering. A
section of the ship hinged outward and downward to form a ramp. The
ship was ready to take on cargo.
Docchi stood at his post. That damn fool Cameron should have stayed in
the main dome where the geepees had released him. His presence added
an unwelcome complication. Still, it should be easy enough to get rid
of him when the time came.
It was Nona who really worried him. She wasn't anywhere to be seen. He
took an uncertain step down the ramp, came back, shaking his head. It
was impossible to look for her now, though he wanted to.
The tank neared the ship. A few feet of it projected onto the ramp.
The geepees stopped; their efforts lost momentum. They looked
bewildered.
The tank rolled backward. The geepees shook, buzzed and looked around,
primarily at Docchi. He didn't wait any longer. He leaped into the
ship.
"Close the passenger lock!" he shouted.
Jordan looked up questioningly from the controls.
"Vogel, the engineer," explained Docchi. "He must have seen the
geepees on scanning when they entered the main dome. He's trying to do
what Cameron should have done, but didn't have enough sense to do."
The passenger lock swung ponderously shut behind him.
"Now what?" Jordan asked, worried.
"First, let's see what you can get on the telecom," said Docchi.
The angle was impossible, so close to the ship, but they did manage to
get a corner of the tank on the screen. Apparently it was resting
where Docchi had last seen it, though it was difficult to be sure
because the curve of the ship loomed so large.
"Maybe we'd better get out of here," suggested Jordan nervously.
"Without the tank? Not a chance. Vogel hasn't got complete control of
them yet." That seemed to be true. The geepees were nearly motionless,
paralyzed.
"What shall I do?" asked Jordan.
"Give me full power on the radio," said Docchi. "Burn it out if you
have to. I think the engineer is at the wrong angle to broadcast much
power to them. Besides, the intervening structure is absorbing most of
his signal."
He waited until Jordan had complied. "The tank must be placed in the
ship," he added.
Geepees were not designed to sift contradictory commands that were
nearly at the same level of urgency. Their reasoning power was feeble,
but the mechanism was complicated enough. In that respect they
resembled humans. Borderline decisions were difficult.
"More power," whispered Docchi.
Sweating, Jordan obeyed.
Marionettes. This string led toward a certain action. Another,
intrinsically more important, but suddenly far less powerful, pulled
for something else. Circuits burned within electronic brains.
Micro-relays fluttered under the stress.
Choice....
Stiffly the geepees moved and grasped the tank. The quality of
decision, in this case, was strained. Inch by inch the tank rolled up
the ramp.
"When it's completely on, raise the ramp," Docchi whispered to Jordan
in an even lower voice.
One geepee wavered and fell. Motionless, it lay there. The remaining
four were barely equal to the task.
"Now," said Docchi.
The freight ramp began to rise. The tank picked up speed as it rolled
into the ship.
"Geepees, save yourselves!" shouted Docchi.
They leaped from the ramp.