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"--it would mean your death."
"Then let's get started."
The Firstman stared at him levelly. "You're a brave man, Mayhem."
"Let's say I'm not afraid to die. I've been a living dead man for eight years. Come on."
One of the so-called coffins, a tiny one-man s.h.i.+p barely big enough for a p.r.o.ne man, food concentrates and water, was already waiting at the station s.p.a.cefield.
Ten minutes after hearing about _Mozart's Lady_, without fanfare, Mayhem blasted off in pursuit.
Maintaining top speed all the way, House Bartock brought _Mozart's Lady_ across almost two billion miles of s.p.a.ce from Neptune's to Pluto's...o...b..t in three days. He was delighted with the speed. It would have taken the average s.p.a.ce-tub ten days to two weeks and, since as far as Bartock knew there were nothing but average s.p.a.ce-tubs on Neptune, that gave him a considerable head-start.
It was Jane c.u.mmings-First Violin who discovered Bartock's ident.i.ty.
Bartock was studying the star-map at the time and considered himself safe from discovery because he kept the control door of _Mozart's Lady_ locked. However, Jane c.u.mmings had established something of a liaison with the pilot outward bound from Earth and Mars, so she had been given a spare key which she'd kept, secretly, all the time the symphony was on Triton. Now, curious about the new pilot for the same reason that the miners on Triton had been curious about the symphony, Jane made her way forward, inserted her key in the lock, and pushed open the control door.
"h.e.l.lo there," she said.
House Bartock whirled. The turning of a key in the lock had so unnerved him--it was the last thing he expected--that he forgot to shut off the star-map. Its tell-tale evidence glowed on the wall over his head.
"What do you want?" he managed to ask politely.
"Oh, just to say h.e.l.lo."
"You already said it."
Jane c.u.mmings pouted. "You needn't bite my head off. What's your name?
Mine's Jane, and I play the violin. It wouldn't hurt you to be polite."
Bartock nodded, deciding that a little small talk wouldn't hurt if he could keep the girl from becoming suspicious. That was suddenly important. If this girl had a key to the control room, for all he knew there could be others.
"My, you have been hurrying," Jane said. "I could tell by the acceleration. You must be trying to break the speed records or something. I'll bet we're almost to Earth--"
Her voice trailed off and her mouth hung open. At first Bartock didn't know what was the matter. Then he saw where she was staring.
The star-map.
"We're not heading for Earth!" she cried.
Bartock walked toward her. "Give me that key," he said. "You're going to have to stay here with me. Give me that key."
Jane backed away. "You--you couldn't be our pilot. If you were--"
"The key. I don't want to hurt you."
Bartock lunged. Jane turned and ran, slamming the door behind her. It clanged, and echoed. The echo didn't stop. Bartock, on the point of opening the door and sprinting down the companionway after her, stopped.
It wasn't the echo of metal slamming against metal. It was the radar warning.
Either _Mozart's Lady_ was within dangerous proximity of a meteor, or a s.h.i.+p was following them.
Bartock ran to the radar screen.
The pip was unmistakable. A s.h.i.+p was following them.
A s.h.i.+p as fast--or faster--than _Mozart's Lady_.
Cursing, Bartock did things with the controls. _Mozart's Lady_, already straining, increased its speed. Acceleration flung Bartock back in the pilot's chair. Pluto loomed dead ahead.
Johnny Mayhem knew at what precise moment he had been discovered, for suddenly the speed of _Mozart's Lady_ increased. Since this had occurred an hour and a half after Mayhem had first got a clear pip of the bigger s.h.i.+p on his radar, it meant he'd been spotted.
p.r.o.ne with his hands stretched forward in the coffin-like experimental s.h.i.+p, Mayhem worked the controls, exactly matching speed with _Mozart's Lady_.
He tried to put himself in the position of the escaped convict. What would he do? His best bet would be to swing in close around Pluto, as close as he dared. Then, on the dark side of the planet, to change his...o...b..t abruptly and come loose of its gravitational field in a new direction. It was a dangerous maneuver, but since the escaped convict now knew for sure that the tiny s.h.i.+p could match the speed of _Mozart's Lady_, it was his only hope. The danger was grave: even a first-rate pilot would try it only as a last resort, for the gravitational pull of Pluto might upset _Mozart's Lady_'s...o...b..t. If that happened, the best the convict could hope for was an emergency landing. More likely, a death-crash would result.
Seconds later, Mayhem's thinking was confirmed. _Mozart's Lady_ executed a sharp turn in s.p.a.ce and disappeared behind the white bulk of Pluto.
Mayhem swore and followed.
"He's trying to kill us all!"
"He doesn't know how to pilot a s.h.i.+p! We're helpless, helpless!"
"Do something, Mrs. Moriarity!"
"Now girls, whatever happens, you must keep calm. We can only a.s.sume that Jane was right about what she saw, but since none of us can pilot a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p, we'll have to bide our time...."
"Bide our time!"
"We're all as good as dead!"
One of the girls began screaming.
Mrs. Moriarity slapped her. "I'm sorry, dear. I had to hit you. Your behavior bordered on the hysterical. And if we become hysterical we are lost, lost, do you understand?"
"Yes'm."
"Good. Then we wait and see what happens."
What was happening was an attempt at what test-pilots term planet-swinging. Moving in the direction of Pluto's...o...b..t, _Mozart's Lady_ swung in very close behind the planet. Then, as the rotation of Pluto on its axis hurled it forth again, as a sling-shot hurls a pellet, _Mozart's Lady_'s rockets would alter the expected direction of flight.
Unless a pursuing s.h.i.+p followed exactly the same maneuver, it would be flung off into s.p.a.ce at top-speed in the wrong direction. It might be hours before the first s.h.i.+p's trail could be picked up again--if ever.