Masters Of The Vortex Part 4

And Councillor Ellington conferred with another Gray Lens-man; one who was not even vaguely humanoid.

'Did you take him apart?'

'Practically cell by cell.'

'What do you think the chances are of finding and developing another like him?'

'With a quarter of a million Lensmen working on it now, and the number doubling every day, and with a hundred thousand million planets, with almost that many different cultures, it is my considered opinion that it is merely a matter of time.'

48.

5: The Boneheads

Since becoming the Vortex Blaster, Neal Cloud lived alone. Whenever he decently could, he traveled alone and worked alone. He was alone now, hurtling through a barren region of s.p.a.ce toward Rift Seventy One and the vortex next upon his list. In the interests of solitude, convenience, and efficiency he was now driving a scout-cla.s.s s.h.i.+p which had been converted to one-man and automatic operation. In one hold was his vortex blasting flitter; in the others his duodec bombs and other supplies.

During such periods of inaction as this, he was wont to think flagellantly of Jo and the three kids; especially of Jo. Now, however, and much to his surprise and chagrin, the pictures which had been so vividly clear were beginning to fade. Unless he concentrated consciously, his thoughts strayed elsewhere: to the last meeting of the Society; to the new speculations as to the why and how of supernovae; to food; to bowling-maybe he'd better start that again, to see if he couldn't make his hook roll smoothly into the one-two pocket instead of getting so many seven-ten splits. Back to food-for the first time in the Vortex Blaster's career he was really hungry.

Which b.u.t.tons would he push for supper? Steak and Venerian mushrooms would be mighty good. So would fried ham and eggs, or high-pressured gameliope ...

An alarm bell jangled, rupturing the silence; a warm-blooded oxygen-breather's distress call, pitifully weak, was coming in. It would have to be weak, Cloud reflected, as he tuned it in as sharply as he could; he was a good eighty-five pa.r.s.ecs-at least an hour at maximum blast-away from the nearest charted traffic lane. It was getting stronger. It hadn't just started, then; he had just gotten into its range. He acknowledged, swung his little s.h.i.+p's needle nose into the line and slammed on full drive. He had not gone far on the new course however, when a tiny but brilliant flash of light showed on his plate and the distress-call stopped. Whatever had occurred was history.

Cloud had to investigate, of course. Both written and unwritten laws are adamant that every call must be heeded by any warm-blooded oxygen-breather receiving it, of whatever race 49.or cla.s.s or tonnage or upon whatever mission bound. He broadcast call after call of his own. No reply. He was probably the only being in s.p.a.ce who had been within range.

Still driving at max, he went to the rack and pulled down a chart. He had never been in on a s.p.a.ce emergency before, but he knew the routine. No use to investigate the wreckage; the brilliance of the flare was evidence enough 'that the vessel and everything near it had ceased to exist. It was lifeboats he was after. They were supposed to stick around to be rescued, but out here they wouldn't. They'd have to head for the nearest planet, to be sure of air. Air was far more important than either food or water; and lifeboats, by the very nature of things, could not carry enough air.

Thus he steered more toward the nearest T-T (Tellus-Type) planet than towards the scene of disaster. He put his communicators, both sending and receiving, on automatic, then sat down at the detector panel. There might not be anything on the visuals or the audio. There had been many cases of boats, jammed with women and children, being launched into s.p.a.ce with no one aboard able to operate even a communicator. If any lifeboats had gotten away from the catastrophe, his detectors would find them.

There was one; one only. It was close to the planet, almost into atmosphere. Cloud aimed a solid communicator beam. Still no answer. Either the boat's communicator was smashed or n.o.body aboard could run it. He'd have to follow them down to the ground.

But what was that? Another boat on the plate? Not a lifeboat-too big-but not big enough to be a s.h.i.+p. Coming out from the planet, apparently ... to rescue? No-what the h.e.l.l? The lug was beaming beaming the lifeboat! the lifeboat!

'Let's go, you sheet-iron lummox!' the Blaster yelled aloud, kicking in his every remaining dyne of drive. Then, very shortly, his plate came suddenly to life. To semi-life, rather, for the video was blurred and blotchy; the audio full of breaks and noise. The lifeboat's pilot was a Chickladorian; characteristically pink except for red-matted hair and red-streamed face. He was in bad shape.

'Whoever it is that's been trying to raise me, snap it up!' the pink man said in 's.p.a.ceaP, the lingua franca of deep s.p.a.ce. 'I couldn't answer until I faked up this jury rig. The ape's 50.aboard and he means business. I'm going to black out, I think, but I've undogged the locks. Take over, pal!'

The picture blurred, vanished. The voice stopped. Cloud swore, viciously.

The planet Dhil and its enormous satellite lune are almost twin worlds, revolving around their common center of gravity and traversing as one the second orbit of their sun. In the third orbit revolves Nhal, a planet strikingly similar to Dhil in every respect of gravity, atmosphere, and climate. Thus Dhilians and Nhalians are, to all intents and purposes, identical.*

The two races had been at war with each other, most of the time, for centuries; and practically all of that warfare had been waged upon luckless Lune. Each race was well advanced in science. Each had atomic power, offensive beams, and defensive screens. Neither had any degree of inertialessness. Neither had ever heard of Civilization or of Boskonia.

At this particular time peace existed, but only on the surface. Any discovery or development giving either side an advantage would rekindle the conflagration without hesitation or warning.

Such was the condition obtaining when Darjeeb of Nhal blasted his little s.p.a.ce-s.h.i.+p upward from Lune. He was glowing with pride of accomplishment, suffused with self-esteem. Not only had he touched off an inextinguishable atomic flame exactly where it would do most good, but also, as a crowning achievement, he had captured Luda of Dhil. Luda herself; the coldest, hardest, most efficient Minister of War that Dhil had ever had!

As soon as they could extract certain data from Luda's mind, they could take Lune in short order. With Lune solidly theirs, they could bomb Dhil into submission in two years. The goal of many generations would have been reached. He, Darjeeb of Nhal, would have wealth, fame, and-best of all-power!

Gazing gloatingly at his captive with every eye he could bring to bear, Darjeeb strolled over to inspect again her chains and manacles. Let her radiate! No mentality in existence could break his his blocks. Physically, however, she had to be watched. blocks. Physically, however, she had to be watched.

* For the explanation of these somewhat peculiar facts, which is too long to go into here, the student is referred to Transactions of the Planetographical Society; Transactions of the Planetographical Society; Vol. 283, No. 11, Vol. 283, No. 11, P. P. 2745. E.E.S. 2745. E.E.S.

51.The irons were strong; but so was Luda. If she could break free he'd probably have to shoot her, which would be a very bad thing indeed. She hadn't caved in yet, but she would. When he got her to Nhal, where proper measures could be taken, she'd give up every sc.r.a.p of knowledge she had ever had!

The chains were holding, all eight of them, and Darjeeb kept on gloating as he backed towards his control station. To him Luda's shape was normal enough, since his own was the same, but in the sight of any Tellurian she would have been more than a little queer.

The lower part of her body was somewhat like that of a small elephant; one weighing perhaps four hundred pounds. The skin, however, was clear and fine and delicately tanned; there were no ears or tusks; the neck was longer. The trunk was shorter, divided at the tip to form a highly capable hand; and between the somewhat protuberant eyes of this 'feeding' head there thrust out a boldly Roman, startlingly human nose. The brain in this head was very small, being concerned only with matters of food.

Above this not-too-unbelievable body, however, there was nothing familiar to us of Tellus. Instead of a back there were two pairs of mighty shoulders, from which sprang four tremendous arms, each like the trunk except longer and much stronger. Surmounting those ma.s.sive shoulders there was an armored, slightly retractile neck which bore the heavily-armored 'thinking' head. In this head there were no mouths, no nostrils. The four equally-s.p.a.ced pairs pairs of eyes were protected by heavy ridges and plates; the entire head, except for its junction with the neck, was solidly sheathed with bare, hard, thick, tough bone. of eyes were protected by heavy ridges and plates; the entire head, except for its junction with the neck, was solidly sheathed with bare, hard, thick, tough bone.

Darjeeb's amazing head shone a clean-scrubbed white. But Luda's-the eternal feminine!-was really something to look at. It had been sanded, buffed, and polished. It had been inlaid with bars and strips and scrolls of variously-colored metals; then decorated tastefully in red and green and blue and black enamel; then, to cap the climax, lacquered! lacquered!

But that was old stuff to Darjeeb; all he cared about was the tightness of the chains immobilizing Luda's hands and feet. Seeing that they were all tight, he returned his attention to his visiplates; for he was not yet in the clear. Enemies might be blasting off after him any minute.

52.A light flashed upon his detector panel. Behind him everything was clear. Nothing was coming from Dhil. Ah, there it was, coming in from open s.p.a.ce. But nothing could could move that fast! A s.p.a.ce-s.h.i.+p of some kind ... G.o.ds of the Ancients, move that fast! A s.p.a.ce-s.h.i.+p of some kind ... G.o.ds of the Ancients, how how it was coming! it was coming!

As a matter of fact the lifeboat was coming in at less than one light; the merest crawl, as s.p.a.ce-speeds go. That velocity, however, was so utterly beyond anything known to his system that the usually phlegmatic Nhalian stood spellbound for a fraction of a second. Then he drove a hand toward a control. Too late- before the hand had covered half the distance the incomprehensibly fast s.h.i.+p struck his own without impact, jar, or shock.

Both vessels should have been blasted to atoms; but there the stranger was poised motionless beside him. Then, under the urge of a ridiculously tiny jet of flame, she leaped away; covering miles in an instant. Then something equally fantastic happened. She drifted heavily backward, against backward, against the full force of her driving blasts! the full force of her driving blasts!

Only one explanation was possible-inertialessness! What a weapon! With that and Luda-even without Luda-the solar system would be his. No longer was it a question of Nhal conquering Dhil. He himself would become the dictator, not only of Nhal and Dhil and Lune, but also of all other worlds within reach. That vessel and its secrets must must be his! be his!

He blasted, then, to match the inert velocity of the smaller craft, and as his s.h.i.+p approached the other he reached out both telepathically-he could neither speak nor hear-and with a spyray to determine the most feasible method of taking over this G.o.dsend.

Bipeds! Peculiar little beasts-repulsive. Only two arms and eyes-only one head. Weak, no weapons-good! Couldn't any any of them communicate? Ah yes, there was one-an unusually thin, reed-like creature, bundled up in layer upon layer of fabric.... of them communicate? Ah yes, there was one-an unusually thin, reed-like creature, bundled up in layer upon layer of fabric....

'I see that you are survivors of a catastrophe in outer s.p.a.ce,' Darjeeb began. He correlated instantly, if not sympathetically, the smashed panel and the pilot's bleeding head. If the creature had had a head worthy of the name, it could have wrecked a dozen such frailties with it, and without taking hurt. 'Tell your pilot to let me in, so that I may guide you to safety. Hurry!

53.Those will come at any moment who will destroy us all without warning or palaver.'

'I am trying, sir, but I cannot get through to him direct. It will take a few moments.' The strange telepathist began to make motions with her peculiar arms, hands, and fingers. Others of the outlanders brandished various repulsive members and gesticulated with ridiculous mouths. Finally: 'He says he would rather not,' the interpreter reported. 'He asks you to go ahead. He will follow you down."

'Impossible. We cannot land upon this world or its primary, Dhil,' Darjeeb argued, reasonably. 'These people are enemies -savages-I have just escaped from them. It is death to attempt to land anywhere in this system except on my own world Nhal -that bluish one over there.'

'Very well, we'll see you there. We're just about out of air, but we can travel that far.'

But that wouldn't do, either, of course. Argument took too much time. He'd have to use force, and he'd better call for help. He hurled mental orders to a henchman, threw out his magnetic grapples, and turned on a broad low-powered beam.

'Open up or die,' he ordered. 'I do not want to blast you open, but time presses and I will if I must.'

Pure heat is hard to take. The portal opened and Darjeeb, after donning armor and checking his ray-guns, picked Luda up and swung nonchalantly out into s.p.a.ce. Luda was tough-a little vacuum wouldn't hurt her much. Inside the lifeboat, he tossed his captive into a corner and strode toward the pilot.

'I want to know right now what it is that makes this s.h.i.+p to be without inertia!' Darjeeb radiated, harshly. He had been probing vainly at the pink thing's mind-block. 'Tell your pilot to tell me or I will squeeze it out of his brain.'

As the order was being translated he slipped an arm out of his suit and clamped a huge hand around the pilot's head. But just as he made contact, before he put on any pressure at all, the weakling fainted.

Also, two of his senses registered disquieting tidings. He received, as plainly as though it was intended for him, a welcome which the swaddled-up biped was radiating in delight to an unexpected visitor rus.h.i.+ng into the compartment. He saw that that visitor, while it was also a biped, was not at all like the frightened and harmless creatures already cluttering the room.

54.It was armed and armored, in complete readiness for strife even with Darjeeb of Nhal.

The bonehead swung his ready weapon-with his build there was no need, ever to turn-and pressed a stud. A searing lance of flame stabbed out. Pa.s.sengers screamed and fled into whatever places of security were available.

55.

6: Driving Jets are Weapons

Cloud's swearing wasted no time; he could swear and act simultaneously. He flashed his vessel up near the lifeboat, went inert, and began to match its intrinsic velocity.

He'd have to board, no other way. Even if he had anything to blast it with, and he didn't-his vessel wasn't armed-he couldn't, without killing innocent people. What did he have?

He had two suits of armor; a G-P regulation and his vortex special, which was even stronger. He had his DeLameters. He had four semi-portables and two needle-beams, for excavating. He had thousands of duodec bombs, not one of which could be detonated by anything less violent than the furious heart of a loose atomic vortex.

What else? Well, there was his sampler. He grinned as he looked at it. About the size of a carpenter's hand-axe, with a savage beak on one side and a wickedly-curved, razor-sharp blade on the other. It had a double-grip handle, three feet long. A deceptive little thing, truly, for it was solid dureum. It weighed fifteen pounds, and its ultra-hard, ultra-tough blade could shear through neocarballoy as cleanly as a steel knife slices cheese. Considering what terrific damage a Valerian could do with a s.p.a.ce-axe, he should be able to do quite a bit with this-it ought to qualify at least as a s.p.a.ce-hatchet.

He put on his armor, set his DeLameters to maximum intensity at minimum aperture, and hung the sampler on a belt-hook. He eased off his blasts. There, the velocities matched. A minute's work with needle-beam, tractors, and pressor sufficed to cut the two smaller s.h.i.+ps apart and to dispose of the Nhalian's magnets and cables. Another minute of careful manipulation and his scout was in place. He swung out, locked the port behind him, and entered the lifeboat.

He was met by a high-intensity beam. He had not expected instantaneous, undeclared war, but he was ready for it. Every screen he had was full out, his left hand held poised at hip a screened DeLameter. His return blast was, therefore, a reflection of Darjeeb's bolt, and it did vastly more damage. The hand in which Darjeeb held the projector was the one that had been manhandling the pilot, and it was not quite back inside the 56.Nhalian's screens. In the fury of Cloud's riposte, then, gun and hand disappeared, as did also a square foot of panel behind them. But Darjeeb had other hands and other guns and for seconds blinding beams raved against unyielding screens.

Neither screen went down. The Tellurian bolstered his weapons. It wouldn't take much of this stuff to kill the pa.s.sengers remaining in the saloon. He'd go in with his sampler.

He lugged it up and leaped straight at the flaming projector, with all of his ma.s.s and strength going into the swing of his 's.p.a.ce-hatchet.' The monster did not dodge, but merely threw up a hand to flick the toy aside with his gun-barrel. Cloud grinned fleetingly as he realized what the other must be thinking-that the man must be puny indeed to be making such ado about wielding such a trifle-for to anyone not familiar with dureum it is sheerly unbelievable that so much ma.s.s and momentum can possibly reside in a bulk so small.

Thus when fiercely-driven cutting edge met opposing ray-gun it did not waver or deflect. It scarcely even slowed. Through the metal of the gun that vicious blade sliced resistlessly, shearing flesh as it sped. On down, urged by everything Cloud's straining muscles could deliver. Through armor it slashed, through the bony plating covering that tremendous double shoulder, deep into the flesh and bone of the shoulder itself; being stopped only by the impact of the hatchet's haft against the armor.

Then, planting one steel boot on the helmet's dome, he got a momentary stance with the other between barrel body and flailing arm, bent his back, and heaved. The deeply embedded blade tore out through bone and flesh and metal, and as it did so the two rear cabled arms dropped useless. That mighty rear shoulder and its appurtenances were out of action. The monster still had one good hand, however, and he was still full of fight.

That hand flashed out, to seize the weapon and to wield it against its owner. It came fast, too, but the man, strongly braced, yanked backward. Needle point and keen edge tore through flesh and snicked off fingers. Cloud swung his axe aloft and poised, making it limpidly clear that the next blow would be straight down into the top t>f the head.

That was enough. Darjeeb backed away, every eye glaring, and Cloud stepped warily over to Luda. A couple of strokes of 57.his blade gave him a length of chain. Then, working carefully to keep his foe threatened at every instant, he worked the chain into a tight loop around the monster's front neck, pulled it unmercifully taut around a stanchion, and welded it there with his DeLameter. He did not trust the other monster unreservedly, either, bound as she was. In fact, he did not trust her at all. In spite of family rows, like sticks to like in emergencies and they'd gang up on him if they could. Since she wasn't wearing armor, however, she didn't stand a chance with a DeLameter, so he could take time now to look around The pilot, lying flat upon the floor, was beginning to come to. Not quite flat, either, for a shapely Chickladorian girl, wearing the forty one square inches of covering which were de rigueur de rigueur in her eyes, had his bandaged head in her lap-or, rather, cus.h.i.+oned on one bare leg-and was sobbing gibberish over him. That wouldn't help. Cloud started for the first-aid locker, but stopped; a white-wrapped figure was already bending over the injured man with a black bottle in her hand. He knew what it was. Kedeselin. That was what he was after, himself; but he wouldn't have dared give a hippopotamus the terrific jolt she was pouring into him. She must be a nurse, or maybe a doctor; but Cloud s.h.i.+vered in sympathy, nevertheless. in her eyes, had his bandaged head in her lap-or, rather, cus.h.i.+oned on one bare leg-and was sobbing gibberish over him. That wouldn't help. Cloud started for the first-aid locker, but stopped; a white-wrapped figure was already bending over the injured man with a black bottle in her hand. He knew what it was. Kedeselin. That was what he was after, himself; but he wouldn't have dared give a hippopotamus the terrific jolt she was pouring into him. She must be a nurse, or maybe a doctor; but Cloud s.h.i.+vered in sympathy, nevertheless.

The pilot stiffened convulsively, then relaxed. His eyes rolled; he gasped and shuddered; but he came to life and sat up groggily.

'What the h.e.l.l goes on here?' Cloud demanded urgently, in s.p.a.ceal.

'I don't know,' the pink man replied. 'All the ape said, as near as I could get it, was that I had to give him our free drive.' He then spoke rapidly to the girl-his wife, Cloud guessed; if she wasn't, she ought to be-who was still holding him fervently.

The pink girl nodded. Then, catching Cloud's eye, she pointed at the two monstrosities, then at the nurse standing calmly near by. Startlingly slim, swathed to the eyes in billows of glamorette, she looked as fragile as a wisp of straw; but Cloud knew Manarkans. She, too, nodded at the Tellurian, then 'talked' rapidly with her hands to a short, thick-set, tremendously muscled woman of some race entirely strange to the Blaster. She was used to going naked; that was very evident. She had been wearing a light 'robe of convention,' but it had been pretty well demolished in the melee and she did not realize that what was left of it was hanging in tatters down her broad 58.back. The 'squatty' eyed the gesticulating Manarkan and spoke, in a beautifully modulated deep ba.s.s voice, to a supple, lithe, pantherish girl with vertically-slitted yellow eyes, pointed ears, and a long and sinuous, meticulously-groomed tail. The Vegian -by no means the first of her race Cloud had seen-spoke to the Chickladorian eyeful, who in turn pa.s.sed the message along to her husband.

'The bonehead you had the argument with says to h.e.l.l with you,' the pilot translated to Cloud in s.p.a.ceal. 'He says his mob will be out here after him directly, and if you don't cut him loose and give him the dope he wants they'll burn us all to cinders.'

Luda was, meanwhile, trying to attract attention. She was bouncing up and down, rattling her chains, rolling her eyes, and in general demanding notice. More communication ensued, culminating in: 'The one with fancy-worked skull-she's a frail, but not the other bonehead's frail, I guess-says pay no attention to the ape. He's a murderer, a pirate, a b.u.m, a louse, and so forth, she says. Says to take your axe-it's some some cleaver, she says, and I check her to ten decimals on that-cut his G.o.ddam head clean off, chuck his stinking carca.s.s out the port, and get the h.e.l.l out of here as fast as you can blast.' cleaver, she says, and I check her to ten decimals on that-cut his G.o.ddam head clean off, chuck his stinking carca.s.s out the port, and get the h.e.l.l out of here as fast as you can blast.'

That sounded to Cloud like good advice, but he didn't want to take such drastic action without more comprehensive data.

'Why?'he asked.

But this was too much for the communications relays to handle. Cloud did not know s.p.a.ceal any too well, since he had not been out in deep s.p.a.ce very long. Also, s.p.a.ceal is a very simple language, not well adapted to the accurate expression of subtle nuances of thought; and all those intermediate translations were garbling things up terrifically. Hence Cloud was not surprised that nothing much was coming through, even though the prettied-up monster was, by this time, just about throwing a fit.

'She's quit trying to spin her yarn,' the pilot said finally. 'She says she's been trying to talk to you direct, but she can't get through. Says to unseal your ports-cut your screens-let down your guard-something like that, anyway. Don't know what she does mean, exactly. None of us does except maybe the Manarkan, and if she does she can't get it across on her fingers.'

59.'Perhaps my thought-screen?' Cloud cut it.

'More yet," the Chickladorian went on, shortly. 'She says there's another one, just as bad or worse. On your head, she says ... No, on your head-bone-what the h.e.l.l! Skull? No, inside inside your skull, she says now ... h.e.l.l's bells! I don't know what she is trying to say!' your skull, she says now ... h.e.l.l's bells! I don't know what she is trying to say!'

'Maybe I do-keep still a minute, all of you.' A telepath undoubtedly, like the Manarkans-that was why she had to talk to her first. He'd never been around telepaths much-never tried it. He walked a few steps and stared directly into one pair of Luda's eyes-large, expressive eyes, now soft and gentle.

'That's it, chief! Now blast away ... baffle your jets ... relax, I guess she means. Open your locks and let her in.'

Cloud did relax, but gingerly. He didn't like this mind-to-mind stuff at all, particularly when the other mind belonged to such a monster. He lowered his mental barriers skittishly, ready to revolt at any instant; but as soon as he began to understand the meaning of her thoughts he forgot completely that he was not talking man to man. And at that moment-such was the power of Luda's mind and the precision of her telepathy-every nuance of thought became sharp and clear.

'I demand Darjeeb's life!' Luda stormed. 'Not because he is the enemy of all my race-that would not weigh with you- but because he has done what no one else, however base, has ever been so lost to shame as to do. In our city upon Lune he kindled an atomic flame which is killing us in mult.i.tudes. In case you do not know, such flames can never be extinguished.'

'I know. We call them loose atomic vortices; but they can be extinguished. In fact, putting them out is my business.'

'Oh-incredible but glorious news ...' Luda's thought seethed, became incomprehensible for a s.p.a.ce. Then: 'To win your help for my race I perceive that I must be completely frank. Observe my mind closely, please-see for yourself that I withhold nothing. Darjeeb wants at any cost the secret of your vessel's speed. With it, his race would destroy mine utterly. I want it too, of course-with it we would wipe out the Nhalians. However, since you are so much stronger than would be believed possible-since you defeated Darjeeb in single combat-I realize my helplessness. I tell you, therefore, that both Darjeeb and I have long since summoned help. Wars.h.i.+ps of both sides are approaching, to capture one or both of these vessels. The 60.Nhalians are the nearer, and these secrets must not, must not, under any conditions, go to Nhal. Dash out into s.p.a.ce with both of these s.h.i.+ps, so that we can plan at leisure. First, however, kill that unspeakable murderer-you have scarcely injured him the way it is-or give me that so deceptive little axe and I'll be only too glad to do it myself.' under any conditions, go to Nhal. Dash out into s.p.a.ce with both of these s.h.i.+ps, so that we can plan at leisure. First, however, kill that unspeakable murderer-you have scarcely injured him the way it is-or give me that so deceptive little axe and I'll be only too glad to do it myself.'

A chain snapped ringingly; metal clanged against metal. Only two of Darjeeb's major arms had been incapacitated; his two others had lost only a few fingers apiece from their hands. His immense bodily strength was almost unimpaired. He could have broken free at any time, but he had waited; hoping to take Cloud by surprise or that some opportunity would arise for him to regain control of the lifeboat. But now, feeling sure that Luda's eminently sensible advice would be taken, he decided to let inertialessness go, for the moment, in the interest of saving his life.

'Kill him!' Luda shrieked the thought and Cloud swung his weapon aloft, but Darjeeb was not attacking. Instead, he was rus.h.i.+ng into the airlock-escaping!

'Go free, pilot!' Cloud commanded, and leaped; but the inner valve swung shut before he could reach it.

As soon as he could operate the lock Cloud went through it. He knew that Darjeeb could not have boarded the scout, since her ports were locked. He hurried to his control room and scanned s.p.a.ce. There the Nhalian was, falling like a plummet. There also were a dozen or so s.p.a.ce-s.h.i.+ps, too close for comfort, blasting upward.

Cloud cut in his Bergenholm, kicked on his driving blasts, cut off, and went back into the lifeboat.

'Safe enough now,' he thought. 'They'll never got out here inert. I'm surprised he jumped-didn't figure him as a suicidal type.'

'He isn't. He didn't,' Luda thought, dryly.

'Huh? He must have. That was a mightly long flit he took off on, and his suit wouldn't hold air.'

'He would stuff something into the holes. If necessary he could have made it without air-or armor, either. He's tough. He still lives, curse him! But it is of no use for me to bewail that fact now. Let us make plans. You must put out the flame, and the leaders of our people will convince you ...'

'Just a second-some other things come first.' He fell silent.

61.First of all, he had to report to the Patrol, so they could get some Lensmen and a task force out here to straighten up this mess. With ordinary communicators, that would take some doing-but wait, he had a double-ended tight beam to the laboratory. He could get through on that, probably, even from here. He'd have to mark the lifeboat as a derelict and get these people aboard his cruiser. No s.p.a.ce-tube. The women could wear suits, but this Luda ...

'Don't worry about me!' that ent.i.ty cut in. 'You saw how I came aboard. I don't enjoy enjoy breathing vacuum, but I'm as tough as Darjeeb is. So breathing vacuum, but I'm as tough as Darjeeb is. So hurry! hurry! During every moment you delay, more of my people are dying!' During every moment you delay, more of my people are dying!'

'QX. While we're transferring, give me the dope.'