But Blakeslee, the chief communications officer whose mind and body
Kinnison was using, was already armed. Kinnison had seen to that. And
as the base commander wrenched open the arms cabinet that happened for
which the Lensman had been waiting. Helmuth's private lookout set began
to draw current; that potentate himself was now looking on, and the
enslaved observer had already begun to trace his beam. Therefore, as
the raging commander of Boyssia's pirate base swung about with raised
DeLameter he faced one already ablaze; and in a matter of seconds there
was only a charred and smoking heap where the commander had stood.
Kinnison wondered that Helmuth's cold voice was not already snapping
from the speaker, but he was soon to discover the reason for that
silence. Unobserved by the Lensman, one of the observers had recovered
sufficiently from his shocked amazement to turn in a riot alarm to the
guard room. Five armed men answered that call on the double, stopped
and glanced around.
"Guards! Blast Blakeslee down!" Helmuth's unmistakable voice blared
from his speaker.
Obediently and manfully enough the five guards tried; and, had it
actually been Blakeslee confronting them so defiantly, they probably
would have succeeded. It was the body of the communications officer,
it is true. The mind operating the muscles of that body, however, was
the mind of Kimball Kinnison, gray Lensman, the fastest man with a ray
pistol old Tellus had ever produced; keyed up, expecting the move, and
with two DeLameters out and poised at hip! _This_ was the being whom
Helmuth was so nonchalantly ordering his minions to slay! Faster than
any watching eye could follow, five bolts of lightning flicked from
Blakeslee's DeLameters. The last guard went down, his head a shriveled
cinder, before a single pirate bolt could be loosed.
"You see, Helmuth," Kinnison spoke conversationally to the board, his
voice dripping vitriol, "playing it safe from a distance, and making
other men pull your chestnuts out of the fire, is a very fine trick
as long as it works. But when it fails to work, as now, it puts your
tail right into the wringer. I, for one, have been for a long time
completely fed up on taking orders from a mere voice; especially from
the voice of one whose entire method of operation proves him to be the
most pitifully arrant coward in the galaxy."
"Observer! You other at the board!" snarled Helmuth, paying no
attention to Kinnison's barbed shafts. "Sound the assembly--armed!"
"No use, Helmuth, he is stone deaf," Kinnison explained, voice sweetly
venomous. "I am the only man in this base that you can talk to, and
you won't be able to do even that very much longer."
"And you really think that you can get away with this mutiny--this
barefaced insubordination--this defiance of _my_ authority?"
"Sure I can. That's what I have been explaining to you. If you were
here in person, or ever had been; if any of the boys had ever seen you,
or had ever known you as anything except a disembodied voice, maybe I
couldn't. But, since nobody has ever seen even your face, that gives me
a chance----"
* * * * *
In his distant base Helmuth's mind had flashed over every aspect of
this unheard-of situation. He decided to play for time; therefore, even
as his hands darted to buttons here and there, he spoke. "Do _you_
want to see my face?" he demanded. "If you do see it, no power in the
galaxy----"
"Skip it, chief," sneered Kinnison. "Don't try to kid me into believing
that you wouldn't kill me now, under any conditions, if you possibly
could. As for your face, it makes no difference whatever to me, now,
whether I ever see your ugly pan or not."
"Well, you shall!" And Helmuth's visage appeared, concentrating upon
the rebellious officer a glare of such fury and such power that any
ordinary man must have quailed. But not Blakeslee-Kinnison!
"Well! Not so bad, at that--the guy looks almost human!" Kinnison
exclaimed, in the tone most carefully designed to drive even more
frantic the helpless and inwardly raging pirate chieftain. "But I've
got things to do. You can guess at what goes on around here from now
on." And in the blaze of a DeLameter Helmuth's plate, set, and "eye"
disappeared. Kinnison had also been playing for time, and his enslaved
observer had checked and rechecked this second and highly important
line to Helmuth's ultra-secret base.
[Illustration: _An instant later Helmuth's view-plate vanished in
the DeLameter's blaze._]
Then, throughout the fortress, there blared out the urgent
assembly call, to which the Lensman added, verbally: "This is a
one-hundred-per-cent call-out, including crews of ships in dock as well
as regular base personnel. Bring also the patrol nurses. Come as you
are and come fast. The doors of the auditorium will be locked in five
minutes and any man outside those doors will be given ample reason to
wish that he had been on time."
* * * * *
The auditorium was right off the control room, and was so arranged that
when a partition was rolled back the control room became its stage.
All Boskonian bases were arranged thus, in order that the supervising
officers at Grand Base could oversee, through their instruments upon
the main panel, just such assemblies as this one was supposed to be.
Every man hearing that call assumed that it came from Grand Base, and
every man hurried to obey it.
Kinnison rolled back the partition between the two rooms and watched
for ray pistols, as the men came streaming into the auditorium.
Ordinarily only the guards went armed--three of them were left--but
possibly a few of the ship's officers would be wearing their
DeLameters.... Four--five--six--the captain and the pilot of the
battleship that had captured the nurses, and a vice commander of
another, besides the three guards. Knives, billies, and such did not
count.
"Time's up. Lock the doors. Bring the keys and the nurses up here," he
ordered the six armed men, calling each by name. "You women take these
chairs over here; you men sit there."
Then, when all were seated, Kinnison touched a button and the steel
partition slid smoothly into place.
"What's coming off here?" demanded a guard. "Where's the commander? How
about Grand Base? Look at that board!"
"Sit tight," Kinnison directed. "Hands on knees. I'll burn any or all
of you that make a move. I have already burned the old man and five
guards, and have put Grand Base out of the picture. Now I want to find
out just how we seven stand." The Lensman already knew, but he was not
tipping his hand.
"Why we seven?"
"Because we are the only ones who happened to be wearing guns. Every
one else of the entire personnel is unarmed and is now locked in the
auditorium. You know how apt they are to get out until one of us lets
them out."
"But Helmuth--he'll have you blasted for this!"
"Hardly. My plans were not made yesterday. How many of you fellows are
with me?"
"What's your scheme?" demanded the vice commander.
"To take these nurses to some patrol base and surrender. I'm sick of
this whole game; and, since none of them have been hurt, I figure
they'll bring us a pardon and a fresh start--a light sentence at least."
"Oh, so _that's_ the reason----" growled the captain.
"Exactly. But I don't want any one with me whose only thought would be
to burn me down at the first opportunity."
"Count me in," declared the pilot. "I've got a strong stomach, but
enough of these jobbies is altogether too much. If you can wangle
anything short of a life sentence for me I'll go back, but I bloody
well won't help you against the----"
"Sure not. Not until after we're out in space. I don't need any help
here."
"Do you want my DeLameter?"
"No, keep it. You won't use it on me. Anybody else?"
One guard joined the pilot, standing aside; the other four wavered.
"Time's up!" Kinnison snapped. "Now, you four fellows, either go for
your guns or else turn your backs, and do it right now!"
They elected to turn their backs and Kinnison collected their weapons,
one by one. Having disarmed them, he again rolled back the partition
and ordered them to join the wondering throng in the auditorium. He
then addressed the assemblage, telling them what he had done and what
he had it in mind to do.
"A good many of you must be fed up on this lawless game of piracy and
anxious to resume association with decent men, if you can do so without
incurring too great a punishment," he concluded. "I feel quite certain
that those of us who man the hospital ship in order to return these
nurses to the patrol will get light sentences, at most. Miss MacDougall
is head nurse. We will ask her what she thinks."
"Better than that," Mac replied clearly. "I am not merely 'quite
certain,' either--I am absolutely sure that whatever men Mr. Blakeslee
selects for his crew will not be given any sentences at all. They will
be pardoned, and will be given chances at jobs in the merchant service."
"How do you know, miss?" asked one. "We're a black lot."
"I know you are," she replied serenely. "I won't say how I know, but
you can take my word for it that I _do_ know."
* * * * *
"Those of you who want to take a chance with us line up over here,"
Kinnison directed, and walked rapidly down the line, reading the mind
of each man in turn. Many of them he waved back into the main group, as
he found thoughts of treachery or signs of inherent criminality. Those
he selected were those who were really sincere in their desire to quit
forever the ranks of Boskone, those who were in those ranks because of
some press of circumstance rather than because of a mental taint. As
each man passed inspection he armed himself from the cabinet and stood
at ease before the group of women.
Having selected his crew, the Lensman operated the controls that opened
the exit nearest the hospital ship, blasted away the panel, so that
that exit could not be closed, unlocked a door, and turned to the
pirates.
"Vice Commander Krimsky, as senior officer you are now in command of
this base," he remarked. "While I am in no sense giving you orders,
there are a few matters about which you should be informed. First, I
set no definite time as to when you may leave this room. I merely state
that you will find it decidedly unhealthy to follow us at all closely
as we go from here to the hospital ship. Second, you haven't a ship fit
to take the ether, as your blast levers have all been broken off at
the pivots. If your mechanics work at top speed, new ones can be put
on in exactly two hours. Third, there is going to be a very severe
earthquake in precisely two hours and thirty minutes, one which should
make this base merely a memory."
"An earthquake! Don't bluff, Blakeslee. You couldn't do _that_!"
"Well, perhaps not a regular earthquake, but something that will do
just as well. If you think I am bluffing, wait and find out. But common
sense should give you the answer to that. I know exactly what Helmuth
is doing now, whether you do or not. At first I intended to wipe you
all out without warning, but I changed my mind. I decided that I would
rather leave you alive, so that you could report to Helmuth exactly
what happened. I wish that I could be watching him when he finds out
how badly one man rooked him, and how far from foolproof his system is.
But we can't have everything. Let's go, folks!"
As the group hurried away, Mac loitered until she was near the form of
Blakeslee, who was bringing up the rear.
"Where are you, Kim?" she whispered urgently.
"I'll join up at the next corridor. Keep further ahead, and get ready
to run when we do!"
* * * * *
As they passed that corridor a figure in gray leather, carrying an
extremely heavy object, stepped out of it. Kinnison himself set his
burden down, yanked a lever, and ran. And as he ran fountains of
intolerable heat erupted and cascaded from the mechanism he had left
upon the floor. Just ahead of him, but at some distance behind the
others, ran Blakeslee and Mac.
"Gosh, I'm glad to see you, Kim!" she panted, as the Lensman caught up
with them and all three slowed down. "What is that thing back there?"
"Nothing much--just a KJ4Z hot-shot. Won't do any real damage--just
melt this tunnel down so that they can't interfere with our get-away."
"Then you _were_ bluffing about the earthquake?" she asked, a shade of
disappointment in her tone.
"Hardly," he reproved her. "That isn't due for two hours and a half
yet, but it'll happen on schedule time."
"How?"
"You remember about the curious cat, don't you? However, no particular
secret about it, I guess--ten duodec bombs placed where they'll do the
most good, and timed for exactly simultaneous detonation. Here we are.
Don't tell anybody I'm here."
Aboard the vessel, Kinnison disappeared into a stateroom while
Blakeslee continued in charge. Men were divided into watches; duties
were assigned; inspections were made, and the ship shot into the air.
There was a brief halt to pick up Kinnison's speedster; then, again on
the way, Blakeslee turned the board over to Crandall, the pilot, and
went into Kinnison's room.
There the Lensman withdrew his control, leaving intact the memory of
everything that had happened. For minutes Blakeslee was almost in a
daze, but struggled through it and held out his hand.
"Mighty glad to meet you, Lensman. Thanks. All I can say is that after
I got sucked in I couldn't----"
"Sure, I know all about it. That was one of the reasons I picked you
out. Your subconsciousness didn't fight back a bit, at any time. You
are to be in charge, from here to Tellus. Please go and chase everybody
out of the control room except Crandall."
"Say, I just thought of something!" exclaimed Blakeslee, when Kinnison
joined the two officers at the board. "You must be that particular
Lensman who has been getting in Helmuth's hair so much lately!"
"Probably. That's my chief aim in life."
"I'd like to see Helmuth's face when he gets the report of this. I've
said that before, haven't I? But I mean it now, even more than I did
before."
"I'm thinking of Helmuth, too, but not that way." The pilot had been
scowling at his plate, and now turned to Blakeslee and the Lensman,
glancing curiously from one to the other. "Oh, I say----A Lensman,
what? A bit of good old light begins to dawn; but that can wait.
Helmuth is after us, foot, horse, and marines. Look at that plate!"
"Four of them already!" exclaimed Blakeslee. "And there's another! And
we haven't got a beam hot enough to light a cigarette, nor a screen
strong enough to stop a firecracker. We've got legs, but not as many as
Helmuth's fliers. You knew all about that, though, of course, before we
started; and from what you have pulled off so far you've got something
left on the hooks. What is it? What's the answer?"
"Indetectability," replied Kinnison. "We can detect them, but they
can't detect us. All you have to do is to stay out of range of their
electros and drill for Tellus."
"That's hard to believe, but it must be true. There are nine ships on
the plates now: all Boskonians and all certainly looking for us, but
not a one of them has paid any attention to us."
"Nor will they. And, by the way, who or what is Boskone?"
"Nobody knows. Helmuth speaks for Boskone, and nobody else ever does,
not even Boskone himself--if there is such a person. Nobody can prove
it, but everybody knows that Helmuth and Boskone are simply two names
for the same man. Helmuth, you know, is only a voice. Nobody ever saw
his face until to-day."
"I'm beginning to think so, myself." And Kinnison strode away, to call
at the office of Head Nurse MacDougall.
"Mac, here's a small, but highly important box," he told her, taking
the neutralizer from his pocket and handing it to her. "Put it in your
locker until you get to Tellus. Then take it, yourself, and give it to
Haynes, himself, in person, and to nobody else. Just tell him I sent
it. He'll know all about it."
"But why not keep it and give it to him yourself? You're coming with
us, aren't you?"
"Probably not all the way. I imagine I'll have to shove off before we
get back to Tellus."
"But I want to talk to you!" she exclaimed. "Why, I've got a million
questions to ask you!"
"That would take a long time"--he grinned at her--"and time is just
what we don't have right now, either of us." And he strode back to the
board.
* * * * *
He labored for hours at a calculating machine and in the tank; finally
to squat down upon his heels, staring at two needlelike rays of light
in the tank and whistling softly between his teeth. For those two
lines, while exactly in the same plane, did not intersect in the tank
at all! Estimating as carefully as he could the point of intersection
of the lines, he punched the "cancel" key to wipe out all traces of his
work and went to the chart room. Chart after chart he hauled down, and
for many minutes he worked with calipers, compass, goniometer, and a
carefully set adjustable triangle. Finally he marked a point--exactly
upon a small, plain dot already upon the chart--and again whistled.
"Huh!" he grunted. He rechecked all his figures and retraversed the
chart, only to have his needle pierce again the same tiny, unmarked
dot. He stared at it for a full minute, studying the map all around his
marker.
"Star Cluster AC 257-4736," he ruminated. "The smallest, most
insignificant, least-known star cluster he could find, and my largest
possible error can't put it anywhere else. Kind of thought it might
be in a cluster, but I never would have looked _there_. No wonder it
took a lot of stuff to trace his beam. It would have to be four numbers
Brinnell harder than a diamond drill to work from there."
Again whistling tunelessly to himself, he rolled up the chart upon
which he had been at work, stuck it under his arm, replaced the others
in their compartments, and went back to the control room.
"How's tricks, fellows?" he asked.
"QX," replied Blakeslee. "We're through them and into clear ether. Not
a ship on the plate, and nobody gave us even a tumble."
"Fine! You won't have any trouble, then, from here in to Prime Base.
Glad of it, too. I've got to flit. That'll mean long watches for you
two, but it can't very well be helped."
"But I say, old bird, I don't mind the watches, but----"
"Don't worry about that, either. This crew can be trusted, to a man.
Not one of you joined the pirates of your own free will, and not one of
you has ever taken an active part----"
"What are you, a mind reader or something?" Crandall burst out.
"Something like that," Kinnison assented with a grin.
Blakeslee put in, "More than that, you mean. Something like hypnosis,
only more so. You think that I had something to do with this, but I
didn't. The Lensman did it all himself."
"Um-m-m." Crandall stared at Kinnison, new respect in his eyes. "I knew
that unattached Lensmen were good, but I had no idea they were _that_
good. No wonder Helmuth has been getting his wind up about you. I'll
string along with any one who can take a whole base, single-handed, and
make such a bally ass to boot out of such a keen old bird as Helmuth
is. But I'm in a bit of a dither, not to say a funk, about what is
going to happen when we pop into Prime Base without you. Every man jack
of us, you know, is slated for the lethal chamber without trial. Miss
MacDougall will do her bit, of course, but what I mean is, has she
enough jets to swing it?"
"I think that she has; but to avoid all argument I've fixed that up,
too. Here's a tape, telling all about what happened. It ends up with
my recommendation for a full pardon for each of you, and for a job at
whatever he is found best fitted for. It is signed with my thumb print.
Give it or send it to Port Admiral Haynes as soon as you land. I've got
enough jets, I think, so that it will go as it lays."
"Jets? You? Right-o! You've got jets enough to lift fourteen freighters
off the North Pole of Valeria. What next?"
"Stores and supplies for my speedster. I'm doing a long flit and this
ship has supplies to burn, so I'd like to have my little can loaded,
Plimsoll down."
* * * * *
The speedster was stocked forthwith. Then, with nothing more than a
casually waved salute in the way of farewell, Kinnison boarded his tiny
space ship and shot away toward his distant goal. Crandall, the pilot,
sought his bunk; while Blakeslee started his long trick at the board.
In an hour or so the head nurse strolled in.
"Kim?" she queried, doubtfully.
"No, Miss MacDougall. It's Blakeslee. Sorry----"
"Oh, I'm glad of that. That means that everything is settled. Where's
the Lensman--in bed?"
"He has gone, miss."
"Gone! Without a word? Where?"
"He didn't say."
"He wouldn't, of course." The nurse turned away, exclaiming inaudibly,
"Gone! I'd like to cuff him for that, the lug! _Gone!_ Why, the great,
big, lobsterly clunker!"