Barrent watched the huge prison ship maneuver into position and sink
noiselessly to the ground. It gleamed dully in the afternoon sun,
tangible proof of Earth's long reach and powerful grasp. A hatch opened,
and a landing stage was let down. The prisoners, flanked by guards,
marched down and assembled in the square.
As usual, most of the population of Tetrahyde had gathered to watch and
cheer the disembarkation ceremony. Barrent moved through the crowd and
stationed himself behind the ranks of prisoners and guards. He touched
his pocket to make sure the needlebeam was still there. It had been made
for him by Group Two fabricators, completely of plastic to escape any
metals detector. The rest of his pockets were stuffed with equipment. He
hoped he wouldn't have to use any of it.
The loudspeaker voice began to read off the prisoners' numbers, as it
had when Barrent had disembarked. He listened, knees slightly bent,
waiting for the beginning of the diversion.
The loudspeaker voice was coming to the end of the prisoner list. There
were only ten left. Barrent edged forward. The voice droned on. Four
prisoners left, three....
As the number of the last prisoner was announced, the diversion began. A
black cloud of smoke darkened the pale sky, and Barrent knew that the
Group had set fire to the empty barracks in Square A-2. He waited.
Then it came. There was a stupendous explosion, blasting through two
rows of empty buildings. The shock wave was staggering. Even before
debris began to fall, Barrent was running toward the ship.
The second and third explosions went off as he came into the ship's
shadow. Quickly he stripped off his Omegan outer garments. Under them,
he wore a facsimile of guard's uniform. Now he ran toward the landing
stage.
The loudspeaker voice was calling loudly for order. The guards were
still bewildered.
The fourth explosion threw Barrent to the ground. He got to his feet
instantly and sprinted up the landing stage. He was inside the ship.
Outside, he could hear the guard captain shouting orders. The guards
were beginning to form into ranks, their weapons ready to use against
the restive crowd. They were retreating to the ship in good order.
Barrent had no more time to listen. He was standing in a long, narrow
corridor. He turned to the right and raced toward the bow of the ship.
Far behind him, he could hear the heavy marching tread of the guards.
Now, he thought, the information he had been given about the ship had
better be right, or the expedition was finished before it began.
He sprinted past rows of empty cells, and came to a door marked GUARD
ASSEMBLY ROOM. A lighted green bulb above the door showed that the air
system was on. He went by it, and came to another door. Barrent tried it
now, and found it unlocked. Within was a room stacked high with spare
engine parts. He entered and closed the door.
The guards marched down the corridor. Barrent could hear them talking as
they entered the assembly room.
"What do you think started those explosions?"
"Who knows? Those prisoners are crazy, anyhow."
"They'd blow up the whole planet, if they could."
"Good riddance."
"Well, it didn't cause any damage. There was an explosion like that
about fifteen years ago. Remember?"
"I wasn't here then."
"Well, it was worse than this. Two guards were killed, and maybe a
hundred prisoners."
"What started it?"
"Don't know. These Omegans just enjoy blowing things up."
"Next thing you know, they'll be trying to blow _us_ up."
"Not a chance. Not with the guardships up there."
"You think so? Well, I'll be glad to get back to the checkpoint."
"You said it. Be good to get off this ship and live a little."
"It isn't a bad life at the checkpoint, but I'd rather go back to
Earth."
"Well, you can't have everything."
The last of the guards entered the assembly room and dogged the door
shut. Barrent waited. After a while, he felt the ship vibrate. It was
beginning its departure.
He had learned some valuable information. Apparently all or most of the
guards got off at the checkpoint. Did that mean that another detachment
of guards got on? Probably. And a checkpoint implied that the ship was
searched for escaped prisoners. It was probably only a perfunctory
search, since no prisoner had escaped in the history of Omega. Still, he
would have to figure out a way of avoiding it.
But he would face that when the time came. Now he felt the vibration
cease, and he knew that the ship had left the surface of Omega. He was
aboard, unobserved, and the ship was on its way to Earth. So far,
everything had gone according to plan.
* * * * *
For the next few hours, Barrent stayed in the storage room. He was
feeling very tired, and his joints had begun to ache. The air in the
small room had a sour, exhausted smell. Forcing himself to his feet,
Barrent walked to the air vent and put his hand over it. No air was
coming through. He took a small gauge out of his pocket. The oxygen
content of the room was falling rapidly.
Cautiously he opened the storeroom door and peered out. Although he was
dressed in a perfect replica of guard's uniform, he knew he couldn't
pass among men who knew each other so well. He had to stay in hiding.
And he had to have air.
The corridors were deserted. He passed the guard assembly room and heard
faint murmurs of conversation inside. The green light glowed brightly
over the door. Barrent walked on, beginning to feel the first signs of
dizziness. His gauge showed him that the oxygen content in the corridor
was starting to fall.
The Group had assumed that the air system would be used throughout the
ship. Now Barrent could see that, with only guards and crew aboard,
there was no need to supply air for the entire ship. There would be air
in the little man-inhabited islands of the guardroom and the crew's
section, and nowhere else.
Barrent hurried down the dim, silent corridors, gasping for breath. The
air was rapidly growing bad. Perhaps it was being used in the assembly
room before the ship's main air supply was touched.
He passed unlocked doors, but the green bulbs above them were unlighted.
He had a pounding headache, and his legs felt as if they were turning to
jelly. He tried to figure out a course of action.
The crew's section seemed to offer him the best chance. Ship's personnel
might not be armed. Even if they were, they would be less ready for
trouble than the guards. Perhaps he could hold one of the officers at
gunpoint; perhaps he could take over the ship.
It was worth trying. It had to be tried.
At the end of the corridor he came to a staircase. He climbed past a
dozen deserted levels, and came at last to a stenciled sign on one of
the walls. It read CONTROL SECTION, and an arrow pointed the way.
Barrent took the plastic needlebeam out of his pocket and staggered
down the corridor. He was beginning to lose consciousness. Black shadows
formed and dissipated on the edges of his vision. He was experiencing
vague hallucinations, flashes of horror in which he felt the corridor
walls falling in on him. He found that he was on his hands and knees,
crawling toward a door marked CONTROL ROOM--_No Admittance except to
Ship's Officers._
* * * * *
The corridor seemed to be filled with gray fog. It cleared momentarily,
and Barrent realized that his eyes were not focusing properly. He pulled
himself to his feet and turned the door handle. It began to open. He
took a firm grip on the needlebeam and tried to prepare himself for
action.
But, as the door opened, darkness closed irrevocably around him. He
thought he could see startled faces, hear a voice shouting, "Watch out!
He's armed!" And then the blackness closed in completely, and he fell
endlessly forward.