* * * * *
He opened the door of the cell, and both men stepped out into the
corridor. At the far end of the corridor, some thirty yards away, stood
the two armed guards who kept watch over the prisoner. At that
distance, it was impossible to tell that Tallis was not what he
appeared to be.
The guard had been changed while MacMaine was in the prisoner's cell,
and he was relying on the lax discipline of the soldiers to get him and
Tallis out of the cell block. With luck, the guards would have failed
to listen too closely to what they had been told by the men they
replaced; with even greater luck, the previous guardsmen would have
failed to be too explicit about who was in the prisoner's cell. With no
luck at all, MacMaine would be forced to shoot to kill.
MacMaine walked casually up to the two men, who came to an easy
attention.
"I want you two men to come with me. Something odd has happened, and
General Quinby and I want two witnesses as to what went on."
"What happened, sir?" one of them asked.
"Don't know for sure," MacMaine said in a puzzled voice. "The general
and I were talking to the prisoner, when all of a sudden he fell over.
I think he's dead. I couldn't find a heartbeat. I want you to take a
look at him so that you can testify that we didn't shoot him or
anything."
Obediently, the two guards headed for the cell, and MacMaine fell in
behind them. "You couldn't of shot him, sir," said the second guard
confidently. "We would of heard the shot."
"Besides," said the other, "it don't matter much. He was going to be
gassed day after tomorrow."
As the trio approached the cell, Tallis pulled the door open a little
wider and, in doing so, contrived to put himself behind it so that his
face couldn't be seen. The young guards weren't too awed by a full
general; after all, they'd be generals themselves someday. They were
much more interested in seeing the dead alien.
As the guards reached the cell door, MacMaine unholstered his pistol
from his sleeve and brought it down hard on the head of the nearest
youth. At the same time, Tallis stepped from behind the door and
clouted the other.
Quickly, MacMaine disarmed the fallen men and dragged them into the
open cell. He came out again and locked the door securely. Their guns
were tossed into an empty cell nearby.
"They won't be missed until the next change of watch, in four hours,"
MacMaine said. "By then, it won't matter, one way or another."
Getting out of the huge building that housed the administrative offices
of the Space Force was relatively easy. A lift chute brought the pair
to the main floor, and, this late in the evening, there weren't many
people on that floor. The officers and men who had night duty were
working on the upper floors. Several times, Tallis had to take a
handkerchief from his pocket and pretend to blow his nose in order to
conceal his alien features from someone who came too close, but no one
appeared to notice anything out of the ordinary.
As they walked out boldly through the main door, fifteen minutes later,
the guards merely came to attention and relaxed as a tall colonel and a
somewhat shorter general strode out. The general appeared to be having
a fit of sneezing, and the colonel was heard to say: "That's quite a
cold you've picked up, sir. Better get over to the dispensary and take
an anti-coryza shot."
"Mmmf," said the general. "_Ha-CHOO!_"
Getting to the spaceport was no problem at all. MacMaine had an
official car waiting, and the two sergeants in the front seat didn't
pay any attention to the general getting in the back seat because
Colonel MacMaine was talking to them. "We're ready to roll, sergeant,"
he said to the driver. "General Quinby wants to go straight to the
_Manila_, so let's get there as fast as possible. Take-off is scheduled
in ten minutes." Then he got into the back seat himself. The one-way
glass partition that separated the back seat from the front prevented
either of the two men from looking back at their passengers.
Seven minutes later, the staff car was rolling unquestioned through the
main gate of Waikiki Spaceport.
It was all so incredibly easy, MacMaine thought. Nobody questioned an
official car. Nobody checked anything too closely. Nobody wanted to
risk his lifelong security by doing or saying something that might be
considered antisocial by a busy general. Besides, it never entered
anyone's mind that there could be anything wrong. If there was a war
on, apparently no one had been told about it yet.
MacMaine thought, _Was I ever that stubbornly blind? Not quite, I
guess, or I'd never have seen what is happening_. But he knew he hadn't
been too much more perceptive than those around him. Even to an
intelligent man, the mask of stupidity can become a barrier to the
outside world as well as a concealment from it.
* * * * *
The Interstellar Ship _Manila_ was a small, fast, ten-man blaster-boat,
designed to get in to the thick of a battle quickly, strike hard, and
get away. Unlike the bigger, more powerful battle cruisers, she could
be landed directly on any planet with less than a two-gee pull at the
surface. The really big babies had to be parked in an orbit and loaded
by shuttle; they'd break up of their own weight if they tried to set
down on anything bigger than a good-sized planetoid. As long as their
antiacceleration fields were on, they could take unimaginable thrusts
along their axes, but the A-A fields were the cause of those thrusts as
well as the protection against them. The ships couldn't stand still
while they were operating, so they were no protection at all against a
planet's gravity. But a blaster-boat was small enough and compact
enough to take the strain.
It had taken careful preparation to get the _Manila_ ready to go just
exactly when MacMaine needed it. Papers had to be forged and put into
the chain of command communication at precisely the right times; others
had had to be taken out and replaced with harmless near-duplicates so
that the Commanding Staff wouldn't discover the deception. He had had
to build up the fictional identity of a "General Lucius Quinby" in such
a way that it would take a thorough check to discover that the officer
who had been put in command of the _Manila_ was nonexistent.
It was two minutes until take-off time when the staff car pulled up at
the foot of the ramp that led up to the main air lock of the ISS
_Manila_. A young-looking captain was standing nervously at the foot of
it, obviously afraid that his new commander might be late for the
take-off and wondering what sort of decision he would have to make if
the general wasn't there at take-off time. MacMaine could imagine his
feelings.
"General Quinby" developed another sneezing fit as he stepped out of
the car. This was the touchiest part of MacMaine's plan, the weakest
link in the whole chain of action. For a space of perhaps a minute, the
disguised Kerothi general would have to stand so close to the young
captain that the crudity of his makeup job would be detectable. He had
to keep that handkerchief over his face, and yet do it in such a way
that it would seem natural.
As Tallis climbed out of the car, chuffing windily into the kerchief,
MacMaine snapped an order to the sergeant behind the wheel. "That's
all. We're taking off almost immediately, so get that car out of here."
Then he walked rapidly over to the captain, who had snapped to
attention. There was a definite look of relief on his face, now that he
knew his commander was on time.
"All ready for take-off, captain? Everything checked out? Ammunition?
Energy packs all filled to capacity? All the crew aboard? Full rations
and stores stowed away?"
The captain kept his eyes on MacMaine's face as he answered "Yes, sir;
yes, sir; yes, sir," to the rapid fire of questions. He had no time to
shift his gaze to the face of his new C.O., who was snuffling his way
toward the foot of the landing ramp. MacMaine kept firing questions
until Tallis was halfway up the ramp.
Then he said: "Oh, by the way, captain--was the large package
containing General Quinby's personal gear brought aboard?"
"The big package? Yes, sir. About fifteen minutes ago."
"Good," said MacMaine. He looked up the ramp. "Are there any special
orders at this time, sir?" he asked.
"No," said Tallis, without turning. "Carry on, colonel." He went on up
to the air lock. It had taken Tallis hours of practice to say that
phrase properly, but the training had been worth it.
* * * * *
After Tallis was well inside the air lock, MacMaine whispered to the
young captain, "As you can see, the general has got a rather bad cold.
He'll want to remain in his cabin until he's over it. See that
anti-coryza shots are sent up from the dispensary as soon as we are out
of the Solar System. Now, let's go; we have less than a minute till
take-off."
MacMaine went up the ramp with the captain scrambling up behind him.
Tallis was just stepping into the commander's cabin as the two men
entered the air lock. MacMaine didn't see him again until the ship was
twelve minutes on her way--nearly five billion miles from Earth and
still accelerating.
He identified himself at the door and Tallis opened it cautiously.
"I brought your anti-coryza shot, sir," he said. In a small ship like
the _Manila_, the captain and the seven crew members could hear any
conversation in the companionways. He stepped inside and closed the
door. Then he practically collapsed on the nearest chair and had a good
case of the shakes.
"So-so f-f-far, s-so good," he said.
General Tallis grasped his shoulder with a firm hand. "Brace up,
Sepastian," he said gently in Kerothic. "You've done a beautiful job. I
still can't believe it, but I'll have to admit that if this is an act
it's a beautiful one." He gestured toward the small desk in one corner
of the room and the big package that was sitting on it. "The food is
all there. I'll have to eat sparingly, but I can make it. Now, what's
the rest of the plan?"
MacMaine took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. His shakes
subsided to a faint, almost imperceptible quiver. "The captain doesn't
know our destination. He was told that he would receive secret
instructions from you." His voice, he noticed thankfully, was almost
normal. He reached into his uniform jacket and took out an
official-looking sealed envelope. "These are the orders. We are going
out to arrange a special truce with the Kerothi."
"_What?_"
"That's what it says here. You'll have to get on the subradio and do
some plain and fancy talking. Fortunately, not a man jack aboard this
ship knows a word of your language, so they'll think you're arranging
truce terms.
"They'll be sitting ducks when your warship pulls up alongside and
sends in a boarding party. By the time they realize what has happened,
it will be too late."
"You're giving us the ship, too?" Tallis looked at him wonderingly.
"And eight prisoners?"
"Nine," said MacMaine. "I'll hand over my sidearm to you just before
your men come through the air lock."
General Tallis sat down in the other small chair, his eyes still on the
Earthman. "I can't help but feel that this is some sort of trick, but
if it is, I can't see through it. Why are you doing this, Sepastian?"
"You may not understand this, Tallis," MacMaine said evenly, "but I am
fighting for freedom. The freedom to think."
_The Traitor_
Convincing the Kerothi that he was in earnest was more difficult than
MacMaine had at first supposed. He had done his best, and now, after
nearly a year of captivity, Tallis had come to tell him that his offer
had been accepted.
General Tallis sat across from Colonel MacMaine, smoking his cigarette
absently.
"Just why are they accepting my proposition?" MacMaine asked bluntly.
"Because they can afford to," Tallis said with a smile. "You will be
watched, my sibling-by-choice. Watched every moment, for any sign of
treason. Your flagship will be a small ten-man blaster-boat--one of our
own. You gave us one; we'll give you one. At the worst, we will come
out even. At the best, your admittedly brilliant grasp of tactics and
strategy will enable us to save thousands of Kerothi lives, to say
nothing of the immense savings in time and money."
"All I ask is a chance to prove my ability and my loyalty."
"You've already proven your ability. All of the strategy problems that
you have been given over the past year were actual battles that had
already been fought. In eighty-seven per cent of the cases, your
strategy proved to be superior to our own. In most of the others, it
was just as good. In only three cases was the estimate of your losses
higher than the actual losses. Actually, we'd be fools to turn you
down. We have everything to gain and nothing to lose."
"I felt the same way a year ago," said MacMaine. "Even being watched
all the time will allow me more freedom than I had on Earth--if the
Board of Strategy is willing to meet my terms."
Tallis chuckled. "They are. You'll be the best-paid officer in the
entire fleet; none of the rest of us gets a tenth of what you'll be
getting, as far as personal value is concerned. And yet, it costs us
practically nothing. You drive an attractive bargain, Sepastian."
"Is that the kind of pay you'd like to get, Tallis?" MacMaine asked
with a smile.
"Why not? You'll get your terms: full pay as a Kerothi general, with
retirement on full pay after the war is over. The pick of the most
beautiful--by your standards--of the Earthwomen we capture. A home on
Keroth, built to your specifications, and full citizenship, including
the freedom to enter into any business relationships you wish. If you
keep your promises, we can keep ours and still come out ahead."
"Good. When do we start?"
"Now," said Tallis rising from his chair. "Put on your dress uniform,
and we'll go down to see the High Commander. We've got to give you a
set of general's insignia, my sibling-by-choice."
Tallis waited while MacMaine donned the blue trousers and gold-trimmed
red uniform of a Kerothi officer. When he was through, MacMaine looked
at himself in the mirror. "There's one more thing, Tallis," he said
thoughtfully.
"What's that?"
"This hair. I think you'd better arrange to have it permanently
removed, according to your custom. I can't do anything about the color
of my skin, but there's no point in my looking like one of your wild
hillmen."
"You're very gracious," Tallis said. "And very wise. Our officers will
certainly come closer to feeling that you are one of us."
"I am one of you from this moment," MacMaine said. "I never intend to
see Earth again, except, perhaps, from space--when we fight the final
battle of the war."
"That may be a hard battle," Tallis said.
"Maybe," MacMaine said thoughtfully. "On the other hand, if my overall
strategy comes out the way I think it will, that battle may never be
fought at all. I think that complete and total surrender will end the
war before we ever get that close to Earth."
"I hope you're right," Tallis said firmly. "This war is costing far
more than we had anticipated, in spite of the weakness of your--that
is, of Earth."
"Well," MacMaine said with a slight grin, "at least you've been able to
capture enough Earth food to keep me eating well all this time."
Tallis' grin was broad. "You're right. We're not doing too badly at
that. Now, let's go; the High Commander is waiting."
* * * * *
MacMaine didn't realize until he walked into the big room that what he
was facing was not just a discussion with a high officer, but what
amounted to a Court of Inquiry.
The High Commander, a dome-headed, wrinkled, yellow-skinned, hard-eyed
old Kerothi, was seated in the center of a long, high desk, flanked on
either side by two lower-ranking generals who had the same deadly, hard
look. Off to one side, almost like a jury in a jury box, sat twenty or
so lesser officers, none of them ranking below the Kerothi equivalent
of lieutenant-colonel.
As far as MacMaine could tell, none of the officers wore the insignia
of fleet officers, the spaceship-and-comet that showed that the wearer
was a fighting man. These were the men of the Permanent Headquarters
Staff--the military group that controlled, not only the armed forces of
Keroth, but the civil government as well.
"What's this?" MacMaine hissed in a whispered aside, in English.
"Pearr up, my prrotherr," Tallis answered softly, in the same tongue,
"all is well."
MacMaine had known, long before he had ever heard of General Polan
Tallis, that the Hegemony of Keroth was governed by a military junta,
and that all Kerothi were regarded as members of the armed forces.
Technically, there were no civilians; they were legally members of the
"unorganized reserve," and were under military law. He had known that
Kerothi society was, in its own way, as much a slave society as that of
Earth, but it had the advantage over Earth in that the system did allow
for advance by merit. If a man had the determination to get ahead, and
the ability to cut the throat--either literally or figuratively--of the
man above him in rank, he could take his place.
On a more strictly legal basis, it was possible for a common trooper to
become an officer by going through the schools set up for that purpose,
but, in practice, it took both pull and pressure to get into those
schools.
In theory, any citizen of the Hegemony could become an officer, and any
officer could become a member of the Permanent Headquarters Staff.
Actually, a much greater preference was given to the children of
officers. Examinations were given periodically for the purpose of
recruiting new members for the elite officers' corps, and any citizen
could take the examination--once.
But the tests were heavily weighted in favor of those who were already
well-versed in matters military, including what might be called the
"inside jokes" of the officers' corps. A common trooper had some chance
of passing the examination; a civilian had a very minute chance. A
noncommissioned officer had the best chance of passing the examination,
but there were age limits which usually kept NCO's from getting a
commission. By the time a man became a noncommissioned officer, he was
too old to be admitted to the officers training schools. There were
allowances made for "extraordinary merit," which allowed common
troopers or upper-grade NCO's to be commissioned in spite of the
general rules, and an astute man could take advantage of those
allowances.
Ability could get a man up the ladder, but it had to be a particular
kind of ability.
* * * * *
During his sojourn as a "guest" of the Kerothi, MacMaine had made a
point of exploring the history of the race. He knew perfectly well that
the histories he had read were doctored, twisted, and, in general,
totally unreliable in so far as presenting anything that would be
called a history by an unbiased investigator.
But, knowing this, MacMaine had been able to learn a great deal about
the present society. Even if the "history" was worthless as such, it
did tell something about the attitudes of a society that would make up
such a history. And, too, he felt that, in general, the main events
which had been catalogued actually occurred; the details had been
blurred, and the attitudes of the people had been misrepresented, but
the skeleton was essentially factual.
MacMaine felt that he knew what kind of philosophy had produced the
mental attitudes of the Court he now faced, and he felt he knew how to
handle himself before them.
Half a dozen paces in front of the great desk, the color of the floor
tiling was different from that of the rest of the floor. Instead of a
solid blue, it was a dead black. Tallis, who was slightly ahead of
MacMaine, came to a halt as his toes touched the edge of the black
area.
_Uh-oh! a balk line_, MacMaine thought. He stopped sharply at the same
point. Both of them just stood there for a full minute while they were
carefully inspected by the members of the Court.
Then the High Commander gestured with one hand, and the officer to his
left leaned forward and said: "Why is this one brought before us in the
uniform of an officer, bare of any insignia of rank?"
It could only be a ritual question, MacMaine decided; they must know
why he was there.
"I bring him as a candidate for admission to our Ingroup," Tallis
replied formally, "and ask the indulgence of Your Superiorities
therefor."
"And who are you who ask our indulgence?"
Tallis identified himself at length--name, rank, serial number,
military record, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
By the time he had finished, MacMaine was beginning to think that the
recitation would go on forever. The High Commander had closed his eyes,
and he looked as if he had gone to sleep.
There was more formality. Through it all, MacMaine stood at rigid
attention, flexing his calf muscles occasionally to keep the blood
flowing in his legs. He had no desire to disgrace himself by passing
out in front of the Court.
Finally the Kerothi officer stopped asking Tallis questions and looked
at the High Commander. MacMaine got the feeling that there was about to
be a departure from the usual procedure.
Without opening his eyes, the High Commander said, in a brittle, rather
harsh voice, "These circumstances are unprecedented." Then he opened
his eyes and looked directly at MacMaine. "Never has an animal been
proposed for such an honor. In times past, such a proposal would have
been mockery of this Court and this Ingroup, and a crime of such
monstrous proportions as to merit Excommunication."
MacMaine knew what that meant. The word was used literally; the
condemned one was cut off from all communication by having his sensory
nerves surgically severed. Madness followed quickly; psychosomatic
death followed eventually, as the brain, cut off from any outside
stimuli except those which could not be eliminated without death
following instantly, finally became incapable of keeping the body
alive. Without feedback, control was impossible, and the
organism-as-a-whole slowly deteriorated until death was inevitable.
At first, the victim screamed and thrashed his limbs as the brain sent
out message after message to the rest of the body, but since the brain
had no way of knowing whether the messages had been received or acted
upon, the victim soon went into a state comparable to that of catatonia
and finally died.
If it was not the ultimate in punishment, it was a damned close
approach, MacMaine thought. And he felt that the word "damned" could
be used in that sense without fear of exaggeration.
* * * * *
"However," the High Commander went on, gazing at the ceiling,
"circumstances change. It would once have been thought vile that a
machine should be allowed to do the work of a skilled man, and the
thought that a machine might do the work with more precision and
greater rapidity would have been almost blasphemous.
"This case must be viewed in the same light. As we are replacing
certain of our workers on our outer planets with Earth animals simply
because they are capable of doing the work more cheaply, so we must
recognize that the same interests of economy govern in this case.
"A computing animal, in that sense, is in the same class as a computing
machine. It would be folly to waste their abilities simply because they
are not human.
"There also arises the question of command. It has been represented to
this court, by certain officers who have been active in investigating
the candidate animal, that it would be as degrading to ask a human
officer to take orders from an animal as it would be to ask him to take
orders from a commoner of the Unorganized Reserve, if not more so. And,
I must admit, there is, on the surface of it, some basis for this
reasoning.
"But, again, we must not let ourselves be misled. Does not a spaceship
pilot, in a sense, take orders from the computer that gives him his
orbits and courses? In fact, do not all computers give orders, in one
way or another, to those who use them?
"Why, then, should we refuse to take orders from a computing animal?"
He paused and appeared to listen to the silence in the room before
going on.
"Stand at ease until the High Commander looks at you again," Tallis
said in a low aside.
This was definitely the pause for adjusting to surprise.
It seemed interminable, though it couldn't have been longer than a
minute later that the High Commander dropped his gaze from the ceiling
to MacMaine. When MacMaine snapped to attention again, the others in
the room became suddenly silent.
"We feel," the hard-faced old Kerothi continued, as if there had been
no break, "that, in this case, we are justified in employing the animal
in question.
"However, we must make certain exceptions to our normal procedure. The
candidate is not a machine, and therefore cannot be treated as a
machine. Neither is it human, and therefore cannot be treated as human.
"Therefore, this is the judgment of the Court of the Ingroup:
"The animal, having shown itself to be capable of behaving, in some
degree, as befits an officer--including, as we have been informed,
voluntarily conforming to our custom as regards superfluous hair--it
shall henceforth be considered as having the same status as an untaught
child or a barbarian, insofar as social conventions are concerned, and
shall be entitled to the use of the human pronoun, he.
"Further, he shall be entitled to wear the uniform he now wears, and
the insignia of a General of the Fleet. He shall be entitled, as far as
personal contact goes, to the privileges of that rank, and shall be
addressed as such.
"He will be accorded the right of punishment of an officer of that
rank, insofar as disciplining his inferiors is concerned, except that
he must first secure the concurrence of his Guardian Officer, as
hereinafter provided.
"He shall also be subject to punishment in the same way and for the
same offenses as humans of his rank, taking into account physiological
differences, except as hereinafter provided.
"His reward for proper service"--The High Commander listed the demands
MacMaine had made--"are deemed fitting, and shall be paid, provided his
duties in service are carried out as proposed.
"Obviously, however, certain restrictions must be made. General
MacMaine, as he is entitled to be called, is employed solely as a
Strategy Computer. His ability as such and his knowledge of the
psychology of the Earth animals are, as far as we are concerned at this
moment, his only useful attributes. Therefore, his command is
restricted to that function. He is empowered to act only through the
other officers of the Fleet as this Court may appoint; he is not to
command directly.
"Further, it is ordered that he shall have a Guardian Officer, who
shall accompany him at all times and shall be directly responsible for
his actions.
"That officer shall be punished for any deliberate crime committed by
the aforesaid General MacMaine as if he had himself committed the
crime.
"Until such time as this Court may appoint another officer for the
purpose, General Polan Tallis, previously identified in these
proceedings, is appointed as Guardian Officer."
The High Commander paused for a moment, then he said: "Proceed with the
investment of the insignia."
_The Strategy_
General Sebastian MacMaine, sometime Colonel of Earth's Space Force,
and presently a General of the Kerothi Fleet, looked at the array of
stars that appeared to drift by the main viewplate of his flagship, the
blaster-boat _Shudos_.
Behind him, General Tallis was saying, "You've done well, Sepastian.
Better than anyone could have really expected. Three battles so far,
and every one of them won by a margin far greater than anticipated. Any
ideas that anyone may have had that you were not wholly working for the
Kerothi cause has certainly been dispelled."
"Thanks, Tallis." MacMaine turned to look at the Kerothi officer. "I
only hope that I can keep it up. Now that we're ready for the big push,
I can't help but wonder what would happen if I were to lose a battle."
"Frankly," Tallis said, "that would depend on several things, the main
one being whether or not it appeared that you had deliberately thrown
the advantage to the enemy. But nobody expects you, or anyone else, to
win every time. Even the most brilliant commander can make an honest
mistake, and if it can be shown that it _was_ an honest mistake, and
one, furthermore, that he could not have been expected to avoid, he
wouldn't be punished for it. In your case, I'll admit that the
investigation would be a great deal more thorough than normal, and that
you wouldn't get as much of the benefit of the doubt as another officer
might, but unless there is a deliberate error I doubt that anything
serious would happen."
"Do you really believe that, Tallis, or is it just wishful thinking on
your part, knowing as you do that your punishment will be the same as
mine if I fail?" MacMaine asked flatly.
Tallis didn't hesitate. "If I didn't believe it, I would ask to be
relieved as your Guardian. And the moment I did that, you would be
removed from command. The moment I feel that you are not acting for the
best interests of Keroth, I will act--not only to protect myself, but
to protect my people."
"That's fair enough," MacMaine said. "But how about the others?"
"I cannot speak for my fellow officers--only for myself." Then Tallis'
voice became cold. "Just keep your hands clean, Sepastian, and all will
be well. You will not be punished for mistakes--only for crimes. If you
are planning no crimes, this worry of yours is needless."
"I ceased to worry about myself long ago," MacMaine said coolly. "I do
not fear personal death, not even by Excommunication. My sole worry is
about the ultimate outcome of the war if I should fail. That, and
nothing more."
"I believe you," Tallis said. "Let us say no more about it. Your
actions are difficult for us to understand, in some ways, that's all.
No Kerothi would ever change his allegiance as you have. Nor has any
Earth officer that we have captured shown any desire to do so. Oh, some
of them have agreed to do almost anything we wanted them to, but these
were not the intelligent ones, and even they were only doing it to save
their own miserable hides.
"Still, you are an exceptional man, Sepastian, unlike any other of your
race, as far as we know. Perhaps it is simply that you are the only one
with enough wisdom to seek your intellectual equals rather than remain
loyal to a mass of stupid animals who are fit only to be slaves."
"It was because I foresaw their eventual enslavement that I acted as I
did," MacMaine admitted. "As I saw it, I had only two choices--to
remain as I was and become a slave to the Kerothi or to put myself in
your hands willingly and hope for the best. As you----"
He was interrupted by a harsh voice from a nearby speaker.
"_Battle stations! Battle stations! Enemy fleet in detector range!
Contact in twelve minutes!_"
* * * * *
Tallis and MacMaine headed for the Command Room at a fast trot. The
three other Kerothi who made up the Strategy Staff came in at almost
the same time. There was a flurry of activity as the computers and
viewers were readied for action, then the Kerothi looked expectantly at
the Earthman.
MacMaine looked at the detector screens. The deployment of the
approaching Earth fleet was almost as he had expected it would be.
There were slight differences, but they would require only minor
changes in the strategy he had mapped out from the information brought
in by the Kerothi scout ships.
Undoubtedly, the Kerothi position had been relayed to the Earth
commander by their own advance scouts buzzing about in tiny, one-man
shells just small enough to be undetectable at normal range.
Watching the positions on the screens carefully, MacMaine called out a
series of numbers in an unhurried voice and watched as the orders,
relayed by the Kerothi staff, changed the position of parts of the
Kerothi fleet. Then, as the computer-led Earth fleet jockeyed to
compensate for the change in the Kerothi deployment, MacMaine called
out more orders.
The High Commander of Keroth had called MacMaine a "computing animal,"
but the term was far from accurate. MacMaine couldn't possibly have
computed all the variables in that battle, and he didn't try. It was a
matter of human intuition against mechanical logic. The advantage lay
with MacMaine, for, while the computer could not logically fathom the
intuitive processes of its human opponent, MacMaine could and did have
an intuitive grasp of the machine's logic. MacMaine didn't need to know
every variable in the pattern; he only needed to know the pattern as a
whole.
The _Shudos_ was well in the rear of the main body of the Kerothi
fleet. There was every necessity for keeping MacMaine's flagship out of
as much of the fighting as possible.
When the first contact was made, MacMaine was certain of the outcome.
His voice became a steady drone as he called out instructions to the
staff officers; his mind was so fully occupied with the moving pattern
before him that he noticed nothing else in the room around him.
Spaceship against spaceship, the two fleets locked in battle. The
warheads of ultralight torpedoes flared their eye-searing explosions
soundlessly into the void; ships exploded like overcharged beer bottles
as blaster energy caught them and smashed through their screens; men
and machines flamed and died, scattering the stripped nuclei of their
component atoms through the screaming silence of space.
And through it all, Sebastian MacMaine watched dispassionately, calling
out his orders as ten Earthmen died for every Kerothi death.
This was a crucial battle. The big push toward the center of Earth's
cluster of worlds had begun. Until now, the Kerothi had been fighting
the outposts, the planets on the fringes of Earth's sphere of influence
which were only lightly colonized, and therefore relatively easy to
take. Earth's strongest fleets were out there, to protect planets that
could not protect themselves.
Inside that periphery were the more densely populated planets, the
self-sufficient colonies which were more or less able to defend
themselves without too much reliance on space fleets as such. But now
that the backbone of the Earth's Space Force had been all but broken,
it would be a relatively easy matter to mop up planet after planet,
since each one could be surrounded separately, pounded into surrender,
and secured before going on to the next. That, at least, had been the
original Kerothi intention. But MacMaine had told them that there was
another way--a way which, if it succeeded, would save time, lives, and
money for the Kerothi. And, if it failed, MacMaine said, they would be
no worse off, they would simply have to resume the original plan.
* * * * *
Now, the first of the big colony planets was to be taken. When the
protecting Earth fleet was reduced to tatters, the Kerothi would go on
to Houston's World as the first step in the big push toward Earth
itself.
But MacMaine wasn't thinking of that phase of the war. That was still
in the future, while the hellish space battle was still at hand.
He lost track of time as he watched the Kerothi fleet take advantage of
their superior tactical position and tear the Earth fleet to bits. Not
until he saw the remains of the Earth fleet turn tail and run did he
realize that the battle had been won.
The Kerothi fleet consolidated itself. There was no point in pursuing
the fleeting Earth ships; that would only break up the solidity of the
Kerothi deployment. The losers could afford to scatter; the winners
could not. Early in the war, the Kerothi had used that trick against
Earth; the Kerothi had broken and fled, and the Earth fleet had split
up to chase them down. The scattered Earth ships had suddenly found
that they had been led into traps composed of hidden clusters of
Kerothi ships. Naturally, the trick had never worked again for either
side.
"All right," MacMaine said when it was all over, "let's get on to
Houston's World."
The staff men, including Tallis, were already on their feet,
congratulating MacMaine and shaking his hands. Even General Hokotan,
the Headquarters Staff man, who had been transferred temporarily to the
Fleet Force to keep an eye on both MacMaine and Tallis, was
enthusiastically pounding MacMaine's shoulder.
No one aboard was supposed to know that Hokotan was a Headquarters
officer, but MacMaine had spotted the spy rather easily. There was a
difference between the fighters of the Fleet and the politicoes of
Headquarters. The politicoes were no harder, perhaps, nor more
ruthless, than the fighters, but they were of a different breed. Theirs
was the ruthlessness of the bully who steps on those who are weaker
rather than the ruthlessness of the man who kills only to win a battle.
MacMaine had the feeling that the Headquarters Staff preferred to spend
their time browbeating their underlings rather than risk their necks
with someone who could fight back, however weakly.
General Hokotan seemed to have more of the fighting quality than most
HQ men, but he wasn't a Fleet Officer at heart. He couldn't be compared
to Tallis without looking small and mean.
As a matter of cold fact, very few of the officers were in anyway
comparable to Tallis--not even the Fleet men. The more MacMaine learned
of the Kerothi, the more he realized just how lucky he had been that it
had been Tallis, and not some other Kerothi general, who had been
captured by the Earth forces. He was not at all sure that his plan
would have worked at all with any of the other officers he had met.
Tallis, like MacMaine, was an unusual specimen of his race.
* * * * *
MacMaine took the congratulations of the Kerothi officers with a look
of pleasure on his face, and when they had subsided somewhat, he
grinned and said:
"Let's get a little work done around here, shall we? We have a planet
to reduce yet."
They laughed. Reducing a planet didn't require strategy--only
fire-power. The planet-based defenses couldn't maneuver, but the energy
reserve of a planet is greater than that of any fleet, no matter how
large. Each defense point would have to be cut down individually by the
massed power of the fleet, cut down one by one until the planet was
helpless. The planet as a whole might have more energy reserve than the
fleet, but no individual defense point did. The problem was to avoid
being hit by the rest of the defense points while one single point was
bearing the brunt of the fleet's attack. It wasn't without danger, but
it could be done.
And for a job like that, MacMaine's special abilities weren't needed.
He could only watch and wait until it was over.
So he watched and waited. Unlike the short-time fury of a space battle,
the reduction of a planet took days of steady pounding. When it was
over, the blaster-boats of the Kerothi fleet and the shuttles from the
great battle cruisers landed on Houston's World and took possession of
the planet.
* * * * *
MacMaine was waiting in his cabin when General Hokotan brought the news
that the planet was secured.
"They are ours," the HQ spy said with a superior smile. "The sniveling
animals didn't even seem to want to defend themselves. They don't even
know how to fight a hand-to-hand battle. How could such things have
ever evolved intelligence enough to conquer space?" Hokotan enjoyed
making such remarks to MacMaine's face, knowing that since MacMaine was
technically a Kerothi he couldn't show any emotion when the enemy was
insulted.
MacMaine showed none. "Got them all, eh?" he said.
"All but a few who scattered into the hills and forests. But not many
of them had the guts to leave the security of their cities, even though
we were occupying them."
"How many are left alive?"
"An estimated hundred and fifty million, more or less."
"Good. That should be enough to set an example. I picked Houston's
World because we can withdraw from it without weakening our position;
its position in space is such that it would constitute no menace to us
even if we never reduced it. That way, we can be sure that our little
message is received on Earth."
Hokotan's grin was wolfish. "And the whole weak-hearted race will shake
with fear, eh?"
"Exactly. Tallis can speak English well enough to be understood. Have
him make the announcement to them. He can word it however he likes, but
the essence is to be this: Houston's World resisted the occupation by
Kerothi troops; an example must be made of them to show them what
happens to Earthmen who resist."
"That's all?"
"That's enough. Oh, by the way, make sure that there are plenty of
their cargo spaceships in good working order; I doubt that we've ruined
them all, but if we have, repair some of them.
"And, too, you'd better make sure that you allow some of the merchant
spacemen to 'escape,' just in case there are no space pilots among
those who took to the hills. We want to make sure that someone can use
those ships to take the news back to Earth."
"And the rest?" Hokotan asked, with an expectant look. He knew what was
to be done, but he wanted to hear MacMaine say it again.
MacMaine obliged.
"Hang them. Every man, every woman, every child. I want them to be
decorating every lamppost and roof-beam on the planet, dangling like
overripe fruit when the Earth forces return."
_The Results_
"I don't understand it," said General Polan Tallis worriedly. "Where
are they coming from? How are they doing it? What's happened?"
MacMaine and the four Kerothi officers were sitting in the small dining
room that doubled as a recreation room between meals. The nervous
strain of the past few months was beginning to tell on all of them.
"Six months ago," Tallis continued jerkily, "we had them beaten. One
planet after another was reduced in turn. Then, out of nowhere, comes a
fleet of ships we didn't even know existed, and they've smashed us at
every turn."
"If they _are_ ships," said Loopat, the youngest officer of the
_Shudos_ staff. "Who ever heard of a battleship that was undetectable
at a distance of less than half a million miles? It's impossible!"
"Then we're being torn to pieces by the impossible!" Hokotan snapped.
"Before we even know they are anywhere around, they are blasting us
with everything they've got! Not even the strategic genius of General
MacMaine can help us if we have no time to plot strategy!"
The Kerothi had been avoiding MacMaine's eyes, but now, at the mention
of his name, they all looked at him as if their collective gaze had
been drawn to him by some unknown attractive force.
"It's like fighting ghosts," MacMaine said in a hushed voice. For the
first time, he felt a feeling of awe that was almost akin to fear. What
had he done?
In another sense, that same question was in the mind of the Kerothi.
"Have you any notion at all what they are doing or how they are doing
it?" asked Tallis gently.
"None," MacMaine answered truthfully. "None at all, I swear to you."
"They don't even behave like Earthmen," said the fourth Kerothi, a
thick-necked officer named Ossif. "They not only outfight us, they
outthink us at every turn. Is it possible, General MacMaine, that the
Earthmen have allies of another race, a race of intelligent beings that
we don't know of?" He left unsaid the added implication: "_And that
you have neglected to tell us about?_"
"Again," said MacMaine, "I swear to you that I know nothing of any
third intelligent race in the galaxy."
"If there were such allies," Tallis said, "isn't it odd that they
should wait so long to aid their friends?"
"No odder than that the Earthmen should suddenly develop superweapons
that we cannot understand, much less fight against," Hokotan said, with
a touch of anger.
"Not 'superweapons'," MacMaine corrected almost absently. "All they
have is a method of making their biggest ships indetectable until
they're so close that it doesn't matter. When they do register on our
detectors, it's too late. But the weapons they strike with are the same
type as they've always used, I believe."
"All right, then," Hokotan said, his voice showing more anger. "One
weapon or whatever you want to call it. Practical invisibility. But
that's enough. An invisible man with a knife is more deadly than a
dozen ordinary men with modern armament. Are you sure you know nothing
of this, General MacMaine?"
Before MacMaine could answer, Tallis said, "Don't be ridiculous,
Hokotan! If he had known that such a weapon existed, would he have been
fool enough to leave his people? With that secret, they stand a good
chance of beating us in less than half the time it took us to wipe out
their fleet--or, rather, to wipe out as much of it as we did."
"They got a new fleet somewhere," said young Loopat, almost to himself.
* * * * *
Tallis ignored him. "If MacMaine deserted his former allegiance,
knowing that they had a method of rendering the action of a space drive
indetectable, then he was and is a blithering idiot. And we know he
isn't."
"All right, all right! I concede that," snapped Hokotan. "He knows
nothing. I don't say that I fully trust him, even now, but I'll admit
that I cannot see how he is to blame for the reversals of the past few
months.
"If the Earthmen had somehow been informed of our activities, or if we
had invented a superweapon and they found out about it, I would be
inclined to put the blame squarely on MacMaine. But----"
"How would he get such information out?" Tallis cut in sharply. "He has
been watched every minute of every day. We know he couldn't send any
information to Earth. How could he?"
"Telepathy, for all I know!" Hokotan retorted. "But that's beside the
point! I don't trust him any farther than I can see him, and not
completely, even then. But I concede that there is no possible
connection between this new menace and anything MacMaine might have
done.
"This is no time to worry about that sort of thing; we've got to find
some way of getting our hands on one of those ghost ships!"
"I do suggest," put in the thick-necked Ossif, "that we keep a closer
watch on General MacMaine. Now that the Earth animals are making a
comeback, he might decide to turn his coat now, even if he has been
innocent of any acts against Keroth so far."
Hokotan's laugh was a short, hard bark. "Oh, we'll watch him, all
right, Ossif. But, as Tallis has pointed out, MacMaine is not a fool,
and he would certainly be a fool to return to Earth if his leaving it
was a genuine act of desertion. The last planet we captured, before
this invisibility thing came up to stop us, was plastered all over with
notices that the Earth fleet was concentrating on the capture of the
arch-traitor MacMaine.
"The price on his head, as a corpse, is enough to allow an Earthman to
retire in luxury for life. The man who brings him back alive gets ten
times that amount.
"Of course, it's possible that the whole thing is a put-up job--a smoke
screen for our benefit. That's why we must and will keep a closer
watch. But only a few of the Earth's higher-up would know that it was a
smoke screen; the rest believe it, whether it is true or not. MacMaine
would have to be very careful not to let the wrong people get their
hands on him if he returned."
"It's no smoke screen," MacMaine said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I
assure you that I have no intention of returning to Earth. If Keroth
loses this war, then I will die--either fighting for the Kerothi or by
execution at the hands of Earthmen if I am captured. Or," he added
musingly, "perhaps even at the hands of the Kerothi, if someone decides
that a scapegoat is needed to atone for the loss of the war."
"If you are guilty of treason," Hokotan barked, "you will die as a
traitor! If you are not, there is no need for your death. The Kerothi
do not need scapegoats!"
"Talk, talk, talk!" Tallis said with a sudden bellow. "We have agreed
that MacMaine has done nothing that could even remotely be regarded as
suspicious! He has fought hard and loyally; he has been more ruthless
than any of us in destroying the enemy. Very well, we will guard him
more closely. We can put him in irons if that's necessary.
"But let's quit yapping and start thinking! We've been acting like
frightened children, not knowing what it is we fear, and venting our
fear-caused anger on the most handy target!
"Let's act like men--not like children!"
After a moment, Hokotan said: "I agree." His voice was firm, but calm.
"Our job will be to get our hands on one of those new Earth ships.
Anyone have any suggestions?"
They had all kinds of suggestions, one after another. The detectors,
however, worked because they detected the distortion of space which was
as necessary for the drive of a ship as the distortion of air was
necessary for the movement of a propeller-driven aircraft. None of them
could see how a ship could avoid making that distortion, and none of
them could figure out how to go about capturing a ship that no one
could even detect until it was too late to set a trap.
The discussion went on for days. And it was continued the next day and
the next. And the days dragged out into weeks.
* * * * *
Communications with Keroth broke down. The Fleet-to-Headquarters
courier ships, small in size, without armament, and practically solidly
packed with drive mechanism, could presumably outrun anything but
another unarmed courier. An armed ship of the same size would have to
use some of the space for her weapons, which meant that the drive would
have to be smaller; if the drive remained the same size, then the
armament would make the ship larger. In either case, the speed would be
cut down. A smaller ship might outrun a standard courier, but if they
got much smaller, there wouldn't be room inside for the pilot.
Nonetheless, courier after courier never arrived at its destination.
And the Kerothi Fleet was being decimated by the hit-and-run tactics of
the Earth's ghost ships. And Earth never lost a ship; by the time the
Kerothi ships knew their enemy was in the vicinity, the enemy had hit
and vanished again. The Kerothi never had a chance to ready their
weapons.
In the long run, they never had a chance at all.
MacMaine waited with almost fatalistic complacence for the inevitable
to happen. When it did happen, he was ready for it.
The _Shudos_, tiny flagship of what had once been a mighty armada and
was now only a tattered remnant, was floating in orbit, along with the
other remaining ships of the fleet, around a bloated red-giant sun.
With their drives off, there was no way of detecting them at any
distance, and the chance of their being found by accident was
microscopically small. But they could not wait forever. Water could be
recirculated, and energy could be tapped from the nearby sun, but food
was gone once it was eaten.
Hokotan's decision was inevitable, and, under the circumstances, the
only possible one. He simple told them what they had already
known--that he was a Headquarters Staff officer.
"We haven't heard from Headquarters in weeks," he said at last. "The
Earth fleet may already be well inside our periphery. We'll have to go
home." He produced a document which he had obviously been holding in
reserve for another purpose and handed it to Tallis. "Headquarters
Staff Orders, Tallis. It empowers me to take command of the Fleet in
the event of an emergency, and the decision as to what constitutes an
emergency was left up to my discretion. I must admit that this is not
the emergency any of us at Headquarters anticipated."
Tallis read through the document. "I see that it isn't," he said dryly.
"According to this, MacMaine and I are to be placed under immediate
arrest as soon as you find it necessary to act."
"Yes," said Hokotan bitterly. "So you can both consider yourselves
under arrest. Don't bother to lock yourselves up--there's no point in
it. General MacMaine, I see no reason to inform the rest of the Fleet
of this, so we will go on as usual. The orders I have to give are
simple: The Fleet will head for home by the most direct possible
geodesic. Since we cannot fight, we will simply ignore attacks and keep
going as long as we last. We can do nothing else." He paused
thoughtfully.
"And, General MacMaine, in case we do not live through this, I would
like to extend my apologies. I do not like you; I don't think I could
ever learn to like an anim ... to like a non-Kerothi. But I know when
to admit an error in judgment. You have fought bravely and
well--better, I know, than I could have done myself. You have shown
yourself to be loyal to your adopted planet; you are a Kerothi in every
sense of the word except the physical. My apologies for having wronged
you."
He extended his hands and MacMaine took them. A choking sensation
constricted the Earthman's throat for a moment, then he got the words
out--the words he had to say. "Believe me, General Hokotan, there is no
need for an apology. No need whatever."
"Thank you," said Hokotan. Then he turned and left the room.
"All right, Tallis," MacMaine said hurriedly, "let's get moving."
* * * * *
The orders were given to the remnants of the Fleet, and they cut in
their drives to head homeward. And the instant they did, there was
chaos. Earth's fleet of "ghost ships" had been patrolling the area for
weeks, knowing that the Kerothi fleet had last been detected somewhere
in the vicinity. As soon as the spatial distortions of the Kerothi
drives flashed on the Earth ships' detectors, the Earth fleet, widely
scattered over the whole circumambient volume of space, coalesced
toward the center of the spatial disturbance like a cloud of bees all
heading for the same flower.
Where there had been only the dull red light of the giant star, there
suddenly appeared the blinding, blue-white brilliance of disintegrating
matter, blossoming like cruel, deadly, beautiful flowers in the midst
of the Kerothi ships, then fading slowly as each expanding cloud of
plasma cooled.
Sebastian MacMaine might have died with the others except that the
_Shudos_, as the flagship, was to trail behind the fleet, so her drive
had not yet been activated. The _Shudos_ was still in orbit, moving at
only a few miles per second when the Earth fleet struck.
Her drive never did go on. A bomb, only a short distance away as the
distance from atomic disintegration is measured, sent the _Shudos_
spinning away, end over end, like a discarded cigar butt flipped toward
a gutter, one side caved in near the rear, as if it had been kicked in
by a giant foot.
There was still air in the ship, MacMaine realized groggily as he awoke
from the unconsciousness that had been thrust upon him. He tried to
stand up, but he found himself staggering toward one crazily-slanted
wall. The stagger was partly due to his grogginess, and partly due to
the Coriolis forces acting within the spinning ship. The artificial
gravity was gone, which meant that the interstellar drive engines had
been smashed. He wondered if the emergency rocket drive was still
working--not that it would take him anywhere worth going to in less
than a few centuries. But, then, Sebastian MacMaine had nowhere to go,
anyhow.
Tallis lay against one wall, looking very limp. MacMaine half staggered
over to him and knelt down. Tallis was still alive.
The centrifugal force caused by the spinning ship gave an effective
pull of less than one Earth gravity, but the weird twists caused by the
Coriolis forces made motion and orientation difficult. Besides, the
ship was spinning slightly on her long axis as well as turning
end-for-end.
MacMaine stood there for a moment, trying to think. He had expected to
die. Death was something he had known was inevitable from the moment he
made his decision to leave Earth. He had not known how or when it would
come, but he had known that it would come soon. He had known that he
would never live to collect the reward he had demanded of the Kerothi
for "faithful service." Traitor he might be, but he was still honest
enough with himself to know that he would never take payment for
services he had not rendered.
Now death was very near, and Sebastian MacMaine almost welcomed it. He
had no desire to fight it. Tallis might want to stand and fight death
to the end, but Tallis was not carrying the monstrous weight of guilt
that would stay with Sebastian MacMaine until his death, no matter how
much he tried to justify his actions.
On the other hand, if he had to go, he might as well do a good job of
it. Since he still had a short time left, he might as well wrap the
whole thing up in a neat package. How?
Again, his intuitive ability to see pattern gave him the answer long
before he could have reasoned it out.
_They will know_, he thought, _but they will never be sure they know. I
will be immortal. And my name will live forever, although no Earthman
will ever again use the surname MacMaine or the given name Sebastian_.
He shook his head to clear it. No use thinking like that now. There
were things to be done.
* * * * *
Tallis first. MacMaine made his way over to one of the emergency
medical kits that he knew were kept in every compartment of every ship.
One of the doors of a wall locker hung open, and the blue-green medical
symbol used by the Kerothi showed darkly in the dim light that came
from the three unshattered glow plates in the ceiling. He opened the
kit, hoping that it contained something equivalent to adhesive tape. He
had never inspected a Kerothi medical kit before. Fortunately, he could
read Kerothi. If a military government was good for nothing else, at
least it was capable of enforcing a simplified phonetic orthography so
that words were pronounced as they were spelled. And--
He forced his wandering mind back to his work. The blow on the head,
plus the crazy effect the spinning was having on his inner ears, plus
the cockeyed gravitational orientation that made his eyes feel as
though they were seeing things at two different angles, all combined to
make for more than a little mental confusion.
There was adhesive tape, all right. Wound on its little spool, it
looked almost homey. He spent several minutes winding the sticky
plastic ribbon around Tallis' wrists and ankles.
Then he took the gun from the Kerothi general's sleeve holster--he had
never been allowed one of his own--and, holding it firmly in his right
hand, he went on a tour of the ship.
It was hard to move around. The centrifugal force varied from point to
point throughout the ship, and the corridors were cluttered with debris
that seemed to move with a life of its own as each piece shifted slowly
under the effects of the various forces working on it. And, as the
various masses moved about, the rate of spin of the ship changed as the
law of conservation of angular momentum operated. The ship was full of
sliding, clattering, jangling noises as the stuff tried to find a final
resting place and bring the ship to equilibrium.
He found the door to Ossif's cabin open and the room empty. He found
Ossif in Loopat's cabin, trying to get the younger officer to his feet.
Ossif saw MacMaine at the door and said: "You're alive! Good! Help
me----" Then he saw the gun in MacMaine's hand and stopped. It was the
last thing he saw before MacMaine shot him neatly between the eyes.
Loopat, only half conscious, never even knew he was in danger, and the
blast that drilled through his brain prevented him from ever knowing
anything again in this life.
Like a man in a dream, MacMaine went on to Hokotan's cabin, his weapon
at the ready. He was rather pleased to find that the HQ general was
already quite dead, his neck broken as cleanly as if it had been done
by a hangman. Hardly an hour before, MacMaine would cheerfully have
shot Hokotan where it would hurt the most and watch him die slowly. But
the memory of Hokotan's honest apology made the Earthman very glad that
he did not have to shoot the general at all.
There remained only the five-man crew, the NCO technician and his gang,
who actually ran the ship. They would be at the tail of the ship, in
the engine compartment. To get there, he had to cross the center of
spin of the ship, and the change of gravity from one direction to
another, decreasing toward zero, passing the null point, and rising
again on the other side, made him nauseous. He felt better after his
stomach had emptied itself.
Cautiously, he opened the door to the drive compartment and then
slammed it hard in sudden fear when he saw what had happened. The
shielding had been torn away from one of the energy converters and
exposed the room to high-energy radiation. The crewmen were quite dead.
The fear went away as quickly as it had come. So maybe he'd dosed
himself with a few hundred Roentgens--so what? A little radiation never
hurt a dead man.
But he knew now that there was no possibility of escape. The drive was
wrecked, and the only other means of escape, the one-man courier boat
that every blaster-boat carried, had been sent out weeks ago and had
never returned.