Mr. Spaceship Part 4

"Wait."

Slowly, the s.h.i.+p was beginning to turn. The turbines missed, reducing their steady beat. The s.h.i.+p was taking up its new course, adjusting itself. Nearby some s.p.a.ce debris rushed past, incinerating in the blasts of the turbine jets.

"So far so good," Gross said.

They began to breathe more easily. The invisible pilot had taken control smoothly, calmly. The s.h.i.+p was in good hands. Kramer spoke a few more words into the microphone, and they swung again. Now they were moving back the way they had come, toward the moon.

"Let's see what he does when we enter the moon's pull," Kramer said.

"He was a good mathematician, the old man. He could handle any kind of problem."

The s.h.i.+p veered, turning away from the moon. The great eaten-away globe fell behind them.

Gross breathed a sigh of relief. "That's that."

"One more thing." Kramer picked up the microphone. "Return to the moon and land the s.h.i.+p at the first s.p.a.ce field," he said into it.

"Good Lord," Winter murmured. "Why are you--"

"Be quiet." Kramer stood, listening. The turbines gasped and roared as the s.h.i.+p swung full around, gaining speed. They were moving back, back toward the moon again. The s.h.i.+p dipped down, heading toward the great globe below.

"We're going a little fast," the Pilot said. "I don't see how he can put down at this velocity."

The port filled up, as the globe swelled rapidly. The Pilot hurried toward the board, reaching for the controls. All at once the s.h.i.+p jerked. The nose lifted and the s.h.i.+p shot out into s.p.a.ce, away from the moon, turning at an oblique angle. The men were thrown to the floor by the sudden change in course. They got to their feet again, speechless, staring at each other.

The Pilot gazed down at the board. "It wasn't me! I didn't touch a thing. I didn't even get to it."

The s.h.i.+p was gaining speed each moment. Kramer hesitated. "Maybe you better switch it back to manual."

The Pilot closed the switch. He took hold of the steering controls and moved them experimentally. "Nothing." He turned around. "Nothing. It doesn't respond."

No one spoke.

"You can see what has happened," Kramer said calmly. "The old man won't let go of it, now that he has it. I was afraid of this when I saw the wiring changes. Everything in this s.h.i.+p is centrally controlled, even the cooling system, the hatches, the garbage release.

We're helpless."

"Nonsense." Gross strode to the board. He took hold of the wheel and turned it. The s.h.i.+p continued on its course, moving away from the moon, leaving it behind.

"Release!" Kramer said into the microphone. "Let go of the controls!

We'll take it back. Release."

"No good," the Pilot said. "Nothing." He spun the useless wheel. "It's dead, completely dead."

"And we're still heading out," Winter said, grinning foolishly. "We'll be going through the first-line defense belt in a few minutes. If they don't shoot us down--"

"We better radio back." The Pilot clicked the radio to _send_. "I'll contact the main bases, one of the observation stations."

"Better get the defense belt, at the speed we're going. We'll be into it in a minute."

"And after that," Kramer said, "we'll be in outer s.p.a.ce. He's moving us toward outs.p.a.ce velocity. Is this s.h.i.+p equipped with baths?"

"Baths?" Gross said.

"The sleep tanks. For s.p.a.ce-drive. We may need them if we go much faster."

"But good G.o.d, where are we going?" Gross said. "Where--where's he taking us?"

The Pilot obtained contact. "This is Dwight, on s.h.i.+p," he said. "We're entering the defense zone at high velocity. Don't fire on us."

"Turn back," the impersonal voice came through the speaker. "You're not allowed in the defense zone."

"We can't. We've lost control."

"Lost control?"

"This is an experimental s.h.i.+p."

Gross took the radio. "This is Commander Gross, Security. We're being carried into outer s.p.a.ce. There's nothing we can do. Is there any way that we can be removed from this s.h.i.+p?"

A hesitation. "We have some fast pursuit s.h.i.+ps that could pick you up if you wanted to jump. The chances are good they'd find you. Do you have s.p.a.ce flares?"

"We do," the Pilot said. "Let's try it."

"Abandon s.h.i.+p?" Kramer said. "If we leave now we'll never see it again."

"What else can we do? We're gaining speed all the time. Do you propose that we stay here?"

"No." Kramer shook his head. "d.a.m.n it, there ought to be a better solution."

"Could you contact _him_?" Winter asked. "The Old Man? Try to reason with him?"

"It's worth a chance," Gross said. "Try it."

"All right." Kramer took the microphone. He paused a moment. "Listen!

Can you hear me? This is Phil Kramer. Can you hear me, Professor. Can you hear me? I want you to release the controls."

There was silence.

"This is Kramer, Professor. Can you hear me? Do you remember who I am?

Do you understand who this is?"

Above the control panel the wall speaker made a sound, a sputtering static. They looked up.

"Can you hear me, Professor. This is Philip Kramer. I want you to give the s.h.i.+p back to us. If you can hear me, release the controls! Let go, Professor. Let go!"