Industrial Revolution Part 8

Blades jumped erect. "I can fight!" he growled.

"With what? Can openers?"

"You mean you're going to lie down and let them break us?"

Avis came back. She thrust the bottle into Blades' hands as he paced the room. "Here you are," she said in a distant voice.

He held it out toward Ellen. "Have some," he invited.

"Not with you ... you subversive!"

Avis brightened noticeably, took the bottle and raised it. "Then here's to victory," she said, drank, and pa.s.sed it to Blades.

He started to gulp; but the wine was too n.o.ble, and he found himself savoring its course down his throat. _Why,_ he thought vaguely, _do people always speak with scorn about Dutch courage? The Dutch have real guts. They fought themselves free of Spain and free of the ocean itself; when the French or Germans came, they made the enemy sea their ally_--

The bottle fell from his grasp. In the weak acceleration, it hadn't hit the floor when Avis rescued it. "Gimme that, you big b.u.t.terfingers," she exclaimed. Her free hand clasped his arm.

"Whatever happens, Mike," she said to him, "we're not quitting."

Still Blades stared beyond her. His fists clenched and unclenched. The noise of his breathing filled the room. Chung looked around in bewilderment; Ellen watched with waxing horror; Avis' eyes kindled.

"Holy smoking seegars," Blades whispered at last. "I really think we can swing it."

Captain Janichevski recoiled. "You're out of your skull!"

"Probably," said Blades. "Fun, huh?"

"You can't do this."

"We can try."

"Do you know what you're talking about? Insurrection, that's what.

Quite likely piracy. Even if your scheme worked, you'd spend the next ten years in Rehab--at least."

"Maybe, provided the matter ever came to trial. But it won't."

"That's what you think. You're asking me to compound the felony, and misappropriate the property of my owners to boot." Janichevski shook his head. "Sorry, Mike. I'm sorry as h.e.l.l about this mess. But I won't be party to making it worse."

"In other words," Blades replied, "you'd rather be party to sabotage.

I'm proposing an act of legitimate self-defense."

"_If_ there actually is a conspiracy to destroy the Station."

"Adam, you're a s.p.a.ceman. You know how the Navy operates. Can you swallow that story about a missile getting loose by accident?"

Janichevski bit his lip. The sounds from outside filled the captain's cabin, voices, footfalls, whirr of machines and clash of doors, as the _Pallas Castle_ readied for departure. Blades waited.

"You may be right," said Janichevski at length, wretchedly. "Though why Hulse should jeopardize his career--"

"He's not. There's a scapegoat groomed back home, you can be sure.

Like some company that'll be debarred from military contracts for a while ... and get nice fat orders in other fields. I've kicked around the System enough to know how that works."

"If you're wrong, though ... if this is an honest blunder ... then you risk committing treason."

"Yeah. I'll take the chance."

"Not I. No. I've got a family to support," Janichevski said.

Blades regarded him bleakly. "If the Essjays get away with this stunt, what kind of life will your family be leading, ten years from now?

It's not simply that we'll be high-cla.s.s peons in the Belt. But tied hand and foot to a shortsighted government, how much progress will we be able to make? Other countries have colonies out here too, remember, and some of them are already giving their people a freer hand than we've got. Do you want the Asians, or the Russians, or even the Europeans, to take over the asteroids?"

"I can't make policy."

"In other words, mama knows best. Believe, obey, anything put out by some bureaucrat who never set foot beyond Luna. Is that your idea of citizens.h.i.+p?"

"You're putting a mighty fine gloss on bailing yourself out!"

Janichevski flared.

"Sure, I'm no idealist. But neither am I a slave," Blades hesitated.

"We've been friends too long, Adam, for me to try bribing you. But if worst comes to worst, we'll cover for you ... somehow ... and if contrariwise we win, then we'll soon be hiring captains for our own s.h.i.+ps and you'll get the best offer any s.p.a.ceman ever got."

"No. Scram. I've work to do."

Blades braced himself. "I didn't want to say this. But I've already informed a number of my men. They're as mad as I am. They're waiting in the terminal. A monkey wrench or a laser torch makes a pretty fair weapon. We can take over by force. That'll leave you legally in the clear. But with so many witnesses around, you'll have to prefer charges against us later on."

Janichevski began to sweat.

"We'll be sent up," said Blades. "But it will still have been worth it."

"Is it really that important to you?"

"Yes. I admit I'm no crusader. But this is a matter of principle."

Janichevski stared at the big red-haired man for a long while.

Suddenly he stiffened. "O.K. On that account, and no other, I'll go along with you."

Blades wobbled on his feet, near collapse with relief. "Good man!" he croaked.

"But I will not have any of my officers or crew involved."

Blades rallied and answered briskly, "You needn't. Just issue orders that my boys are to have access to the scoops.h.i.+ps. They can install the equipment, jockey the boats over to the full balloons, and even couple them on."

Janichevski's fears had vanished once he made his decision, but now a certain doubt registered. "That's a pretty skilled job."

"These are pretty skilled men. It isn't much of a maneuver, not like making a Jovian sky dive."

"Well, O.K., I'll take your word for their ability. But suppose the _Altair_ spots those boats moving around?"

"She's already several hundred kilometers off, and getting farther away, running a search curve which I'm betting my liberty--and my honor; I certainly don't want to hurt my own country's Navy--I'm betting that search curve is guaranteed not to find the missile in time. They'll spot the _Pallas_ as you depart--oh, yes, our people will be aboard as per orders--but no finer detail will show in so casual an observation."