_A Speck of Human Earth-dust, Falling Free...._
I had not been able at first to understand why Captain Carter wanted
Miko left at liberty. Within me there was that cry of vengeance, as
though to strike Miko down would somehow lessen my own grief at
Anita's loss. Whatever Carter's purpose, Snap had not known it. But
Balch and Dr. Frank were in the captain's confidence--all three of
them working on some plan of action. Snap and I argued it, and thought
we could fathom it; and in spite of my desire to kill Miko, the thing
looked reasonable.
It was obvious that at least two of our passengers were plotting with
Miko and George Prince; trying during this voyage to learn what they
could about Grantline's activities on the Moon; scheming doubtless to
seize the treasure when the Planetara stopped at the Moon on the return
voyage. I thought I could name those masquerading passengers. Ob Hahn,
supposedly a Venus Mystic. And Rance Rankin, who called himself an
American magician. Those two, Snap and I agreed, seemed most suspicious.
And there was the purser.
With my hysteria still on me, I sat for a time on the deck outside the
chart-room with Snap. Then Carter summoned us back, and we sat listening
while he, Balch and Dr. Frank went on with their conference. Listening
to them I could not but agree that our best plan was to secure evidence
which would incriminate all who were concerned in the plot. Miko, we
were convinced, had been the Martian who followed Snap and me from
Halsey's office in Great-New York. George Prince had doubtless been the
invisible eavesdropper outside the helio-room. He knew, and had told the
others, that Grantline had found radium-ore on the Moon--that the
Planetara would stop there on the way home.
* * * * *
But we could not incarcerate George Prince for being an eavesdropper.
Nor had we the faintest tangible evidence against Ob Hahn or Rance
Rankin. And even the purser would probably be released by the
Interplanetary Court of Ferrok-Shahn when it heard our evidence.
There was only Miko. We could arrest him for the murder of Anita. But
the others would be put on their guard. It was Carter's idea to let Miko
remain at liberty for a time and see if we could not identify and
incriminate his fellows. The murder of Anita obviously had nothing to do
with any plot against the Grantline Moon treasure.
"Why," exclaimed Balch, "there might be--probably are--huge Martian
interests concerned in this thing. These men here aboard are only
emissaries, making this voyage to learn what they can. When they get to
Ferrok-Shahn they'll make their report, and then we'll have a real
danger on our hands. Why, an outlaw ship could be launched from
Ferrok-Shahn that would beat us back to the Moon--and Grantline is
entirely without warning of any danger!"
It seemed obvious. Unscrupulous, moneyed criminals in Ferrok-Shahn would
be dangerous indeed, once these details of Grantline were given them.
And so now it was decided that in the remaining nine days of our outward
voyage, we would attempt to secure enough evidence to arrest all these
plotters.
"I'll have them all in the cage when we land," Carter declared grimly.
"They'll make no report to their principals. The thing will end, be
stamped out!"
Ah, the futile plans of men!
* * * * *
Yet we thought it practical. We were all doubly armed now. Explosive
bullet-projectors and the heat-ray cylinders. And we had several
eavesdropping microphones which we planned to use whenever occasion
offered.
It was now, Earth Eastern Time, A. M. Twenty-eight hours only of this
eventful voyage were passed. The Planetara was some six million miles
from the Earth; it blazed behind us, a tremendous giant.
The body of Anita was being made ready for burial. George Prince was
still in his stateroom. Glutz, effeminate little hairdresser, who waxed
rich acting as beauty doctor for the women passengers, and who in his
youth had been an undertaker, had gone with Dr. Frank to prepare the
body.
Gruesome details. I tried not to think of them. I sat, numbed, in the
chart-room.
An astronomical burial--there was little precedent for it. I dragged
myself to the stern deck-space where, at five A. M., the ceremony took
place. Most of the passengers were asleep, unaware of all this--which
was why Carter hastened it.
We were a solemn little group, gathered there in the checkered starlight
with the great vault of the heavens around us. A dismantled electronic
projector--necessary when a long-range gun was mounted--had been rigged
up in one of the deck ports.
They brought out the body. I stood apart, gazing reluctantly at the
small bundle, wrapped like a mummy in a dark metallic screen-cloth. A
patch of black silk rested over her face.
* * * * *
Four cabin stewards carried her. And beside her walked George Prince. A
long black robe covered him, but his head was bare. And suddenly he
reminded me of the ancient play-character of Hamlet. His black, wavy
hair; his finely chiseled, pallid face, set now in a stern, patrician
cast. And staring, I realized that however much of a villain this man
not yet thirty might be, at this instant, walking beside the body of his
dead sister, he was stricken with grief. He loved that sister with whom
he had lived since childhood; and to see him now, with his set white
face, no one could doubt it.
The little procession stopped in a patch of starlight by the port. They
rested the body on a bank of chairs. The black-robed Chaplain, roused
from his bed and still trembling from excitement of this sudden,
inexplicable death on board, said a brief, solemn little prayer. An
appeal: That the Almighty Ruler of all these blazing worlds might guard
the soul of this gentle girl whose mortal remains were now to be
returned to Him.
Ah, if ever God seemed hovering close, it was now at this instant, on
this starlit deck floating in the black void of space.
Then Carter for just a moment removed the black shroud from her face. I
saw her brother gaze silently; saw him stoop and implant a kiss--and
turn away. I did not want to look, but I found myself moving slowly
forward.
* * * * *
She lay, so beautiful. Her face, white and calm and peaceful in death.
My sight blurred. Words seemed to echo: "A little son, cast in the
gentle image of his mother...."
"Easy, Gregg!" Snap was whispering to me. He had his arm around me.
"Come on away!"
They tied the shroud over her face. I did not see them as they put her
body in the tube, sent it through the exhaust-chamber, and dropped it.
But a moment later I saw it--a small black oblong bundle--hovering
beside us. It was perhaps a hundred feet away, circling us. Held by the
Planetara's bulk, it had momentarily become our satellite. It swung
around us like a moon. Gruesome satellite, by nature's laws forever to
follow us.
Then from another tube at the bow, Blackstone operated a small
Zed-co-ray projector. Its dull light caught the floating bundle,
neutralizing its metallic wrappings.
It swung off at a tangent. Speeding. Falling free in the dome of the
heavens. A rotating black oblong. But in a moment distance dwindled it
to a speck. A dull silver dot with the sunlight on it. A speck of human
Earth-dust, falling free....
It vanished. Anita--gone. In my heart was an echo of the prayer that the
Almighty might watch over her and guard her always....