"Yeah." Beecher showed disgust. "You mean you're working for something
no decent person would help you with."
"And you mean by that?"
Beecher's eyes simmered. He said nothing.
Unterzuyder snapped. "I still work alone--unless forced to recruit
help. That condition may occur. In the meantime, use some of those
qualities of leadership an _explorer_ should have. Inform these people
what's up. Tell them Bailes will probably attempt to loot the ship.
Line the men up at the arsenal and load them down with weapons. Make
arrangements so the women and children will keep to the cabins. Can you
handle that?"
Beecher flushed until his face was bright red.
* * * * *
Leaving him properly insulted, Unterzuyder went to the control turret
where he cornered Foshag, drew him to the Solar Chart.
Unterzuyder picked up a pencil, made an indentation at random. It was
considerably to the east of the _Ares'_ present position.
"Change course immediately. To that point."
Foshag huffed rebelliously. "That won't help us outrun Bailes. The new
course will but give him a hypotenuse to travel. He'll run us down
quicker."
Unterzuyder's lips turned thinner. Muttering, Foshag sat down to the
computations. On the way out of the turret, Unterzuyder slipped a
slide-rule out of an instrument case so deftly that nobody noticed.
Another hour's work showed him that the two sets of figures,
respectively, indicated X's _point of origin_ and _direction of
travel_. _c_ stood for cosine, of course, _s_ for sine.
X had been, when the map was made, some degrees below the plane of the
ecliptic. Its orbit was at a steep slant to that plane.
So what? So the point of origin was located in time 50,000 years ago?
The map was a fake!
He sat at the desk a long time, thinking, and thinking fast. Foshag
must have known who he was from the first. He was an observing man, but
he was also a close-mouthed man, who answered only to direct questions.
And the Beechers knew his identity too. Fayette had accidentally called
him by his real name. Treachery!
Undoubtedly, Bigger Bailes had tipped off the Beechers, just before
Unterzuyder arrived at the Beechers' apartment in Marsport. Bigger
Bailes thought Unterzuyder knew where the map was, but didn't know the
Beechers had it. Bigger intended to let the situation stir itself up so
the asteroid's location would more easily come out of hiding.
Yes, everything was wrong. Bigger would loot the ship when he learned
the map was a practical joke. Taking a ship this far beyond Jupiter
would have to pay off. And there was nobody to stop him.
What was it his father told him about Unterzuyder techniques? Sell
short at the top, buy long at the bottom. All events, good or bad,
could be used to build a firmer superstructure!
Well, face it! Ship's course had been changed. The settlers by this
time had demanded to know why. Beecher would tell them Carruthers
Straley was Ralph Unterzuyder, hunting for a hibernaculum!
The settlers by this time were up in arms against him.
He paled. He leaped to the door, listened. Footsteps. Patrolling his
room.
* * * * *
He returned to the table. Make use of the situation. Dredge it for
what it's worth! He crossed shakily to the audio and called Fayette's
number. Luckily, Fayette and not her father answered.
"Fayette--darling." The word came out huskily. It was hard to say. It
sounded real.
"_Who?_" Then her voice was uneven. "You called me darling. Are you
sure you're in your right mind?"
"I mean it, dear." _Did he?_ "I couldn't forget last night."
He was falling into the self-made trap of the dishonest, unable to tell
his own truth from his own falsehood.
"All right," she said unevenly. "So you couldn't forget it? So what?"
He spoke softly. Please, he had to see her in his room right away. It
was urgent. Would she come now? A long silence. Yes, she would come.
No, she wouldn't tell her father. Positively. Five minutes later
she slipped into the room. She barely opened the door. He took her
instantly into his arms. When he figured he had kissed her enough, he
let her drop limply into a chair.
The circles under her eyes were worse. She looked miserable. He drew up
a chair, tenderly took her hands in his.
"Look at me, Fayette. I'm going to make a confession that will shock
you. I'm not Carruthers Straley. I'm Ralph Unterzuyder."
She didn't look shocked. He pretended not to notice.
He told her selected portions of the story. "I suspected you had the
map. I examined _Tertium Organum_ in your apartment yesterday when you
and your father were in the kitchen."
_And you wanted me to examine it! So I'd be sure to hire you and
Beecher and take you with me to Saturn. That was the reason you posed
as explorers, so Titan Settlers would give you a free ride to the
vicinity of X!_
"I broke into your room last night, Fayette, and made a copy of the
map."
_And you left it wide open for me, so I could put my Unterzuyder brains
to work deciphering it!_
"And now that I've deciphered the map--"
That shocked her. "You _did_? But Daddy figured out it was made roughly
50,000 years ago!"
His heart fell to the bottom of his stomach. The Beechers hadn't got
over that stumbling block either. He'd made a mistake in trying to pump
her. He smiled feebly. But salvage _something_ out of it!
"50,000 years," he said druggedly, "seems to be correct--"
She was on her feet, laughing half hysterically. "You're trying to say
the Unterzuyders invented a time-machine? That they aren't hibernating
at all? After all the trouble we've gone to--" She giggled. "That's
rich, Ralph--"
Female instability. He held her tightly. A lie, a good solid lie. His
heart raced. Bigger Bailes. "Of course not, dear. The whole idea of a
time-machine is fantasy--"
_Is it?_
"--and it'll make you feel better to know the map is purely
contemporary. You noticed the ship changed course? Well, dear, we are
headed toward X!"
She pushed away, her eyes amazed.
"And," he added happily, "you will also be glad to know that you and
I and your father are going to collect the reward for finding the
hibernaculum!"
"_Really_, Ralph? That was your intention all along? You weren't going
to _free_ them? Oh, I was hoping so hard you were going only after the
reward--"
She switched her glance over his shoulder. Pity wrenched her face.
Something hit Ralph Unterzuyder hard on the back of the head. He fell
straight down ten thousand miles, and lay there for quite a while
studying patterns of light that squirmed in his head.
* * * * *
Captain Foshag was dragging him to a chair. His tufted eyebrows came
close. He put a slopping cloth on Unterzuyder's forehead.
He said, "For the time, you're a prisoner in this cabin. I trust the
experience will teach you some truths. Wickedness secretes various
poisons in the body, particularly the heart and the liver. Change your
ways, and you may indeed live a long life!"
The door burst open and Beecher lunged in. His shrewd eyes rested on
Unterzuyder.
"Sorry I had to bop you, Unterzuyder," he said in clipped accents. "But
it was the best way to get you out of the picture and keep you from
talking to Bigger Bailes. You might have messed up the works. As it
was, we told him the truth."
"The truth?"
"Certainly. You admitted it to Fayette. That you'd figured out the
orbit and present position of X. He got the course from Foshag and made
us turn around toward Titan again. Then he took off for X. So we're
whipped. But at least it kept us from being looted."
Unterzuyder ripped the wet cloth from his head and threw it somewhere.
He laughed. He weaved about the room, holding his head and hooting,
while Foshag and Beecher looked on with open mouths. Then Foshag forced
him into a chair.
"Out of his head! Mr. Unterzuyder, please be quiet. That's better.
There, there! Now we're going to leave you here for your own
protection, Mr. Unterzuyder. The settlers are somewhat provoked. Do you
agree?"
Unterzuyder grinned widely up at him.
"I'm sick," he groaned. "Tell Fayette I need her."
_There's still X to find._
An idea had come to him.
* * * * *
He was in bed, the white cloth on his forehead, when Fayette walked in.
She looked at him without sympathy. Tentatively, she sat on the edge of
the bed, curling one knee under another.
"I'm sorry if you think I played Delilah, Ralph--" she began.
He patted her knee delicately. "There, there," he soothed. "None of
that matters. Actually, we're two of a kind. Not that we're naturally
treacherous, but that we are indirect, the most dangerous weapon in the
world. I wanted to discuss our plans. You see, marriage is a--"
She gripped his wrist, hard, to make him stop talking.