Title: The Sun-Death
Author: Whiteside, Stanley
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Sun-Death" ***


THE SUN-DEATH

By STANLEY WHITESIDE

_Captain Lodar's compelling urge to return
to Earth was like the instinct of a dying
animal for its lair ... to die with its kind.
Nothing would stop him ... nothing except
death. And the death of the soaring_ Vulcan
_would be his swan song to space_.

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories January 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


    _Norport, U.S.A.
    November 2, 2268_

    _Honorable Board of Space Navigation,
    Section 6.
    Subject: 6B-5_

    _Gentlemen:_

    _In support of a petition on behalf of our client, we herewith
    submit a report of the Mutiny on the_ Vulcan _dramatized for your
    convenience, but true in all essentials_.

    _We beg you to note the extenuating circumstances and to consider
    these in rendering your decision._

    _Respectfully yours,
    Haley, Cronk, & Touchwife,
    Attorneys at Law.
    per Jonas Cronk, LLD., MSL., PhD._

       *       *       *       *       *

The Spaceship _Vulcan_ lay on a tangled mat of vegetation. A thin haze
of blue smoke drifted over it from the nearby Venusian village where
several of the grass huts were afire. Under the bulging side of the
ship twenty of the crew were boisterously herding a group of Venus
Mutes, forcing them into the entrance port of the hold. There was very
little trouble; only one of the Mutes balked, and a sting ray soon
quieted that.

In the glittering control room of the ship Ray Burk, Navigator
Unlimited, turned from the viewport with a frown.

"It seems a pity to burn down their shacks," he muttered.

He was a large young man with blond hair, carelessly dressed, yet
still bearing that touch of alert authority characteristic of a crack
spaceship man. Since it was his first trip on the _Vulcan_ he was still
a little out of place--not that he and Captain Lodar didn't understand
each other.

Lodar, pacing restlessly back and forth, made no reply. His black
eyebrows merely lifted sardonically as he continued his heavy strides.
It was typical of Lodar, whose vast energy kept him ceaselessly active,
but in the confines of a ship it was like being caged with a lion.

Ray turned back to the viewport. The village, burning sluggishly was
desolate beneath the long column of smoke that rose in the still air.

Lodar's strides halted at the magnaflux, he twirled the detector
impatiently. "Still clear," he muttered. Then, louder, "Fix a course
for Earth, Burk. As soon as all are aboard, we'll take off."

Ray glanced quickly at Lodar, surprised at the sudden change of course,
but he said nothing. This was Lodar's last flight, if all went well he
was through. Perhaps that was why he was so savagely nervous. After
all, it was time he quit. Luck had been with him overlong.

The interphone jingled and Lodar answered it.

"All right, Campora," he said after a moment, "get set for takeoff.
Then report up here to me." He turned to Ray. "Take off, Mister. Make
it snappy!"

Ray checked the safety lights, then signaled for power. He hoped McVane
was sober. The sad-faced little engineer just couldn't stay away from
his bottle.

But McVane was at least sober enough, for the metal floor began to
throb gently as the converters on the lower deck groaned to life.
While the machines built up to speed Ray adjusted the drive for a sixty
degree lift. He could hear the soft grate of the Benson Plates shifting
on the outer hull.

       *       *       *       *       *

The interphone tinkled and Ray heard McVane's broad accents. "Ye can
rip the bottom off her, Mister!" Yes, McVane was drunk again. He'd been
out in the space rays too long perhaps, but the indicators showed him
on the job.

Ray closed the ether drive and the ship rose silently as if caught on
an elevator belt. He set the course carefully, aware of Lodar at his
elbow, watching. If the Captain would only watch McVane as he did the
others, things might be a lot better.

Perhaps Lodar was afraid for the hoard of jewels which was rumored to
be aboard. Ray had heard whispers of this wealth, but he doubted that
Lodar would fear any man, much less the space rats aft. Why, he could
whip any ten of them!

Still, it might explain the sudden change in plans. Originally the
_Vulcan_ was destined for Mars where the load of Mutes would be sold
to the zoos. Lodar's decision to head for Earth was unexpected, as
unexpected as so many of his brilliant moves.

Ray had cut in the autopilot when the bulkhead door swung open to admit
Campora. The First Mate still wore his rubber marsh boots and a gun
slung on his narrow waist.

"A fine haul, Captain." He touched his dark mustache and a grin slit
the sallow face. "About fifty Mutes." Then his grin faltered as he saw
the Captain's expression.

Lodar faced him with huge fists balled on his hips.

"Who the hell gave you permission to set fire to that village, Mister?"

Campora's brown eyes darted once to Ray as if for support. His lean
hand covered the black mustache. "Just a little fun for the boys,
Captain." The Mate's voice was placating. "We--"

"Fun, eh!" Lodar's eyes were narrow as he thrust his heavy face
forward. "If there's any fun to be dispensed, I'll do it! Do you morons
realize that the smoke will alert half the patrol ships in space?"

"I--I'm sorry, Captain." Campora backed away. "You see--"

"Shut up!" Lodar jerked his dark head. "Take over from Burk."

Feeling sorry for the cowed mate, Ray relinquished his controls and
gave the course. Campora stared.

"But--I thought we were to head for Mars!"

"I changed that," Lodar interrupted impatiently.

"You never told us!" Campora looked excited. "You agreed that we'd
never head for Earth without warning. You know the men won't stand for
it!"

"Yes, they will!" Lodar eyed the mate steadily. "Tell 'em they needn't
worry, I'll look out for them."

"There'll be trouble!" Campora snapped.

"Is that a threat?" The big man's voice was icy. Then, as Campora
subsided mumbling, Lodar turned abruptly to Ray.

"You can come with me, Burk, if you want to look at the cargo."

As he headed for the exit Ray followed curiously. It was the young
navigator's first trip to Venus and he'd never seen a Mute close at
hand. Which was strange, since his own past was so inextricably tied up
with them.

Ray had served five years with the Mars-Venus Company to earn his
unlimited navigator's ticket on the Mars passenger flights.

This company was chartered "to develop and exploit the planets of Mars
and Venus" and most of its wealth came from the exploitation. For years
Venus Mutes had been captured and sold to zoos or to wealthy people for
pets.

The practice was strongly condemned by humanitarian groups on Earth.
This became so vociferous that, finally, the Earth Federation halted
all flights to Venus regardless of charter.

The Company declared such law was illegal. It would send a ship to
Venus and have matters settled in court.

At this time Ray Burk was due to command his first ship. He was
offered the Venus flight--the breaking of law to be merely a step in
establishing precedent, so they said. It sounded like high adventure,
with himself carrying the ball. He gladly accepted. And, as expected,
he was intercepted by an Earth patrol ship.

But in the ensuing legal battle the Company found its very charter
jeopardized. It hastily switched tactics, disclaimed all knowledge of
the flight, and said Ray had set an incorrect course. Even hardened
politicians smiled at such a thin excuse, but the Company made it
stick. Ray lost his navigator's license. He was through.

The Company even went further in order to clear itself. It righteously
promised to limit the capture of Mutes and save them from extinction.
In fact, it offered to patrol Venus and stop illegal raids by others.

Then the price of Mutes rose to fantastic heights. Poachers moved in to
reap fortunes from the trade.


                                  II

Lodar was one of them. Cashiered from the Earth Fleet, an ex-officer,
he was well trained to outmaneuver the patrols. It was he who offered
Ray his first job in months.

"Get in on the gravy," he urged. "They already made you a goat, and no
one else will employ you!"

After all, it wasn't criminal. They were only doing what the Company
had done for years. There was a thrill of adventure in the risky
smuggling, a sense of getting even with those who had disgraced him
unjustly.

Yes, Ray was curious to see these Mutes who were at the base of his
trouble.

He followed Lodar along the central corridor to the mid-section well,
and down to the lower deck. The surging hum of the converters wafted on
the warm air as they passed the engine room.

In the after hold Jenkins and his Number Two Gang were bracing a large
metal cage. Entering behind Lodar, Ray stared with mingled feelings at
the captives behind the bars.

"Why, they look like humans!" he gasped. No wonder so many people
objected to the trade!

They were slightly smaller than humans, with paler skin, and their hair
was blond, almost ashen. They regarded their captors with large blue
eyes, but the rustling of grass and skins in which they were dressed
was the only sound they made.

"Like our earliest type of man, perhaps," Lodar admitted. "But of a
different evolution. No vocal cords."

"Just dummies." Jenkins spoke up from behind Ray.

"That's a lie!" The indignant voice was a woman's.

Gripping the bars, she stared angrily out at them. She had the small
figure of a Mute, but her bare arms were bronzed, and her hair was
dark, in long curls.

"They can talk." She shook the bars vigorously. "Release us, you
sinners!"

Lodar suddenly scowled. "You're no Venus Mute!" He grabbed her hand and
twisted it over. The palm was small and pink, not the bluish white of a
Mute.

"Turn us loose, you heathen!" she raged, her large brown eyes aflame.
"The Great Zipher will pour his wrath on you!"

"A missionary!" Lodar snorted savagely. He whirled on Jenkins. "Who
brought her in here?" he bellowed in sudden fury.

Jenkins backed away, blinking his short-sighted eyes. "I--I don't know.
I never seen her before."

The captain turned back to Ray. "Help me get her out," he growled.

Ray silently guarded the door while Lodar entered the cage and dragged
the protesting girl outside. She refused to leave without the others,
but Lodar grimly hauled her out and threw her clear of the door.

"I ought to throw you off in space!" He eyed the girl viciously.

Ray locked the door uneasily. Kidnaping a missionary would mean plenty
of investigation. Earth zealously protected all its numerous and varied
religious workers. This one, he knew, belonged to a very small sect--a
cult founded in dim antiquity.

"Wait till my father learns of this!" The girl was rubbing her elbows.
"He'll call down the wrath of the Great Zipher on this--this ark of
abominations! The grave will open to swallow you. Death and oblivion
shall come, and everlasting torment--"

"Shut up!" Lodar pushed the girl away. "Why you people waste your time
on Mutes--"

"They're not mute!" she stormed. "Woe to you, you--"

"Shut up!" Lodar bawled.

"Very well." She drew herself up to a full five feet, one. "I'll show
you!" She went to the bars. "Emu! Emu! Tell this heathen what the Great
Zipher says."

One of the Mutes shuffled forward, a man with blank face. He drew a
breath and recited in singsong tones.

"The Great Zipher say, come unto me all ye who look for work, and I
give."

"See!" The girl turned imperiously. "Now, let them loose!"

"A parrot!" Lodar snapped. "Come on above or do I drag you?"

For a moment she looked rebellious, then she shrugged the skin cloak
about her slender shoulders and turned with them to the well stairs.

McVane was leaning curiously out the engine room door, his loose jacket
flapping in the pulsing of warm air.

"A gurrl, eh?" He shook his graying head. "That's a bad business,
Lodar." His pale blue eyes blinked owlishly.

"Don't get ideas," Lodar snapped. "It wasn't my doing."

"Nah?" McVane teetered solemnly as he leaned forward. "What's your
name, girlie?"

"Ellenor." She stared at the engineer.

McVane blinked. He scratched his whiskery chin. "Well, Ellenor, ye can
have my cabin for the while," he offered.

"Come on, up you go!" Her dark eyes were bright with anger, but she
climbed to the upper deck without further trouble.

They locked her in McVane's cabin.

"Funny, Mac giving up his room for her," Ray remarked as they headed
forward to the control room.

"Because he's a no-good drunk?" Lodar sneered. "While some of us could
be little gentlemen?" His face turned somber. "McVane is goofy. Had
a wife and two kids. They were on that spaceship, _Jeena_, that was
lost a few years back. If I didn't let him drink he wouldn't be worth
jetting!"

So that explained the captain's easy going attitude toward the little
engineer. At least Lodar had some feelings!

"Why not take this girl back to Venus?" Ray suggested.

"And run into a patrol? Earth Fleet or Company ship, it makes no
difference. If we're caught it means life!"

They were operating outside the law, and no one would listen to their
excuses. Ray felt suddenly cold as he thought that over. Unease
dampened his admiration for the captain. Lodar was too smart to be
captured, his ruthless ability would see the _Vulcan_ through all
right. But he was quite capable of murdering the girl, if necessary, as
a last resort in getting rid of her!

Scowling, Ray followed the captain. In the control room they found
Campora studying the magnaflux. He looked nervous as Lodar headed
straight for him.

"What about this girl we got aboard?" the captain demanded harshly.

"Girl?" Campora looked innocent.

"You led the raid, didn't you?" Lodar's dark eyes were dangerous.
"Maybe you were looking for some more fun?" He stepped close to the
mate. "Or are you just blind?"

"There was a whole bunch of captives." Campora backed away. "We was in
a hurry, and--"

"You damned liar!" Lodar seized his tunic. "You brainless idiot!" His
free hand whipped up to slash across Campora's face.

With an oath Campora jerked free and reached for his belt.

Before he could free his gun Lodar's heavy fist smashed into his jaw.
The mate slammed against the wall, then sagged to the floor. "Dirty
rat!" Lodar took his gun, then kicked him till he stirred.

"Next time you draw on me," he grated, "you go out the disposal chute!"

"That didn't solve anything." Ray stooped to help Campora up.

       *       *       *       *       *

Probably Campora had brought the girl aboard, perhaps her presence
would hang them, but the captain could have used more proper means of
discipline. Instead he had deliberately goaded Campora to action. It
was as if Lodar had to give physical vent to his rage like a caged
animal slashing at the bars.

Then, as Lodar turned briefly his way, Ray thought he saw an appeal for
understanding in the dark eyes that slowly lost their angry glare. A
fleeting look of the trapped lion, but it was gone in an instant.

"Mind your own business," the captain said sourly. He turned to Campora
and growled, "Go wash your face!"

Ray's lips tightened helplessly. After all, Lodar's word was law. It
was the only way to run a spaceship on its vast journeying through
emptiness. It was the only insurance against hysteria from taut nerves,
the fear of space rays, and claustrophobia in the little metal world.

With a long breath he turned to the magnaflux and swung the detector
beams. The magnatoid field would instantly react to anything within
five units. There was no time lapse as with radar, a vital point when
riding on a Benson Drive.

There was no sign of patrols. Only the dim globe of Venus behind and
the smaller points of Mars and Earth ahead. Except for the haze of star
dust space was empty of threat.

Lodar was again pacing back and forth. Ray could hear his heavy step on
the metal plates.

Tramp--tramp--tramp. Then, to his relief, Lodar halted.

"You're a handsome young buck." At the captain's light tone Ray turned,
surprised, but there was no sign of mockery on the other's heavy face.
"You go talk to that blasted girl. Calm her down. If she'll keep her
mouth shut promise her we'll drop her off on Earth."

Ray felt his anger dissipate under a surge of relief. So Lodar was
going to take a chance on the girl's silence. He was willing to protect
her from the crew and deliver her right side up. After all, it would
have been simple to drop her off in space. The crew would never blab.
In fact the crew would have urged it.

Under his hard surface Lodar was all right!

In more cheerful frame of mind Ray quit the control room. As he headed
along the main corridor a sudden gale of laughter echoed from the well.
There was an unpleasant tone to it that drew him, frowning, to the
lower deck.

Several of the crew were in the after hold. They were grouped around
the cage of Mutes and one of them held a long rod. The tableau was
obvious, Ray strode in angrily.

"That'll be all of that!" he snapped.

Jenkins' glasses glinted as he turned, still grinning. "Captain told us
to stand guard, Sir."

His short-sighted squint measured the young navigator.

"Get out!" Ray clenched his fist. "All of you, except Williams, get
out!" He waited as they filed past him with sullen looks, then he
turned into the engine room.

McVane was sitting at his little desk, drowsing in the warm, oily air.
He roused at Ray's tread and absently closed a lower drawer before he
turned. Hiding his bottle! The man would drink himself to death!

"The girl is in your cabin," Ray said shortly.

"Good." McVane's eyes were bleary and, for a moment, pity closed in on
Ray. After all, he had no right to condemn the little engineer for his
weakness--his whole family wiped out.

"What do you know about these Mutes?" he asked more gently.

"They can't talk." McVane drew into himself. "Go ask the girl if you
want to know!" His hand trembled toward the lower drawer.

Disgusted, Ray turned away. The whole crew wore an armor plate
of callous indifference! It was like no ship Ray had ever flown.
Muttering, he climbed back to the main deck, to McVane's cabin.

The girl was sitting on a bunk, combing her hair with angry sweeps. She
gave him one hot glance, then ignored him completely.

"Look," he began, "I'm as anxious to get you out of here as you are. I
don't want to see you--hurt--"

"The Great Zipher will guard me," she snapped. "He gives peace and
security in our times."

"Sure, sure." Ray frowned impatiently. "But the rest of us want peace
and security, too. If you make trouble--"

"Why is a young man like you consorting with these sinners?" She looked
at him with sudden curiosity. "You don't belong here!"

Ray stared at her. What was her name? Oh, yes, Ellenor.

"If you repent in time--"

He laughed harshly. "Nothing doing. This may be no healthy job, maybe
I'll quit after this, but don't get ideas. What I came to--"

"I know what you came to beg," she said scornfully. "I will make no
deal with evil. You can't harm me. You will all slay yourselves. The
ship is doomed!"

She spoke with such certainty that for a moment Ray wondered if
she might know something. Perhaps she was aware of coming rescue.
Still, that was ridiculous. She had been caged with the rest. She was
bluffing, perhaps to allay her own fears.

He tried another tack. Sympathy. He asked her about herself.

She was a missionary's daughter, born on Venus, and had grown up among
the words of the Great Zipher.

"And who is the Great Zipher?" Ray demanded, amused. There were
countless little religions flourishing under free thought.

"No one knows. We know he saved the world from the last great plague of
Depression. People were affected by a great Gloom and saw no purpose in
life. They shrunk inside and suffered mental disease. The Great Zipher
said--only believe that ye have plenty, and spend your substance in
good things, and these shall come to pass."

"And did they?" he prodded.

"Are there any more plagues of Depression?" she asked tartly.

It sounded like a cheerful religion, but Ray declined to argue. He
reverted back to his main purpose.

"Being religious, you shouldn't demand vengeance on us," he pointed
out. "Suppose we turn you loose if you promise to keep that little
mouth shut?"

"Your own sins will betray you anyway."

"There's nothing wrong in capturing these Mutes," he snapped. "They're
not human. We don't mistreat them!"

"How long do they live in captivity?" she demanded bitterly. "A few
months, a year or two, and then they die. On strange planets, cut off
from all their kind, they die miserably."

He gave it up.

When Lodar heard of this he shook his head and guffawed.

"You're too easy, Burk. Perhaps Campora can do better."

"She'll come to her senses in time," Ray urged. Above all, he didn't
want Campora turned loose on the girl. "Give me time."

"Yea." Lodar's smile was grimly mocking. "In time she'll make a
complete sucker of you! But it might be diverting. Go ahead!"


                                  III

The very vastness of space lends a sense of security from detection.
The enormous speed required to cover the parsecs between systems gives
advantage to those who elude the patrols.

The _Vulcan_, bound for Earth, streaked through the blackness like a
swift needle in illimitable space. Its sensitive detector beams probed
the spangled cosmos for danger.

Inside, the crews changed shift and slept, lulled by the warm hum of
converters. It was a secure little world of glittering lights and
steel, no different from the many Company ships which Ray had flown in
the past.

He was standing in the warm hold, staring through the bars at the
Mutes. Their large eyes turned to his, but there was no other sign of
awareness, life. They were delicately built, almost like children. No
wonder they made appealing pets, semi-slaves.

Almost angrily Ray shook the bars. "Can't you talk," he growled. There
was an uneasy movement, but no answer. "Speak up, you dumbbells!" He
grew impatient under the silent stares.

Impatient with himself for trying to make them talk, as if that would
solve anything! Yet, they seemed so intelligent. They were clothed,
they had some sort of local government. Surely they must be able to
communicate. But they only stared!

He had a fleeting impression as if they were sorry for him.

He wondered suddenly if they were telepathic. He concentrated on the
idea, but no inkling came. Only blankness. They were just animals. They
had to be.

Abruptly he left the hold and climbed to the upper deck. In the
corridor Williams stopped him.

"I hear we're still headed for Earth, Sir." The man's dark face held a
worried look.

"Yes." Ray waited, but the other only shuffled his feet in
uncomfortable silence, so he turned toward the girl's cabin.

Ellenor would know the answer.

"Are those Mutes telepathic?" he demanded almost savagely of her. The
whole idea was unwelcome. In fact, his interest in the Mutes was like a
foolish obsession!

"No." She stared at him a long while. "They know how people feel," she
said at last. "They know how everything feels--animals, plants, and
even the soil."

"That's nothing. I know how people feel."

"No, you don't." She let that sink in. "On Venus they know when the
soil wishes to grow things; they know when things are due to happen.
The moon of places tells them where to settle; where they are welcome.
Theirs is a language of--of feelings, you might say."

"Instinct. Well developed."

"More than that." She assumed a kindly air of instruction. "It is
learned. I know that you, for instance, are at war with yourself. You
admire this Captain Lodar, but he is evil. Yet you are sorry for him."

"Sorry!" The idea of feeling sorry for Lodar was startling. It had
never even vaguely occurred to him. Lodar was too self-sufficient.

She shrugged, a dainty movement. "You are mentally blind. You don't
believe your inner senses." Her delicate face wore a frown as she
groped for words. "Lodar hopes to retire on Earth, to live in peace
on his ill-gotten gains. But Lodar knows he will never live to enjoy
that peace." Her eyes grew large as they met his. He had the uneasy
feeling as if she'd opened his mind like a book. Probably her words
had overstimulated his imagination. "And you know that, too, inside of
you," she ended.

"I know--"

"That Lodar will die," she completed placidly. "Better take us back to
Venus."

Was the girl trying to bewitch him? Bog him down in a tangle of mystic
nonsense? An air of intimacy tingled his senses. He wanted to touch the
girl, to comfort her. Abruptly he stood up.

"Better think over about that promise to keep silent." He felt as if
something very fragile had shattered. He was vaguely sorry about it,
yet determined to stick to reality.

       *       *       *       *       *

Campora was in the control room when Ray arrived. The First Mate was
anxiously focussing the triangulation vernier on the magnaflux screen.

"There's a ship on our tail," he muttered. "See if you can analyze it."

Ray took over and explored the field for tensions around the black dot
on the screen.

"Got an eight plate Benson Drive," he concluded at last. "It's a
Company ship!"

Campora sounded a general alarm. "I told Lodar to keep off an Earth
course!" he gritted.

There was a rush of feet in the corridor as the crew ran for their
stations. In minutes the captain himself appeared. Lodar already knew
what to expect. He brushed Campora aside after a dozen words.

"Get the gun crews set," he told him shortly.

"How about changing course?" the mate demanded sullenly.

"I know what to do!" Lodar rapped. "Get going!" His eyes narrowed
angrily as he watched Campora stamp out and slam the door. Then
abruptly he turned to prowl nervously from control panel to magnaflux
and back again.

Ray said nothing. He was wondering alertly just how this was going to
affect the girl. He hoped she'd forgotten. Under onslaught of Lodar's
driving energy human lives were nothing. Even now the captain's dark
eyes blazed with excitement, a savage delight in the approaching danger.

The young navigator began to plot the other ship's course. It was
curving in behind them on the left. The intent was obvious; to overtake
from one side and drive the _Vulcan_ into a sheering curve. It would
take power to get away, lots of power!

Ray called McVane on the interphone, breathed a sigh of relief as the
engineer promptly answered. "We're running into trouble. Get your
teakettle going--fast," he ordered.

"Ay, ay," McVane mumbled.

"Keep awake!" Ray hissed savagely. "If we're caught now it'll mean life
for us!"

"Take it easy, I'll give ye power. If need be," McVane added morosely,
"enough to blow us all to hell!"

The captain was studying the magnaflux when Ray turned.

"They're cutting in." His thick finger traced a curve. The pursuer's
tactics were obvious--to drive the _Vulcan_ into an ever-tightening
spiral aided by his greater speed.

"Why don't they radio?" Ray glanced at the silent receiver.

"At this speed?" Lodar grunted. "No chance! There'll only be a few
seconds of contact."

It was true. On any course, the two ships would flash past each other
with scant time for talk. If the _Vulcan_ was an innocent trader it
would haul to, if not it would travel, or surrender. There was no
chance of surrender.

Lodar had too much at stake. He was carrying a fortune back to Earth.
His last chance at a decent life. As for the crew, most of them were
wanted by the police in half the cities of Earth. Their safety lay in
the outer planets or in space.

"We'll take a chance." Ray glanced at Lodar for confirmation, then
tapped the magnaflux. "They've got more power, more guns, and they'll
outrun us. We've got to cut out."

"Go ahead!" Lodar nodded tensely, like a leashed hound scenting
trouble. "Campora's got the gun crews ready."

Ray hadn't figured on blasting at the Company ship. He had hoped for
a swift getaway. Still, this was no time for fine distinctions. After
all, he had joined the _Vulcan_ of his own free will. He couldn't
change his mind now. But, if he ever got out of this....

He turned to the controls, concentrating on his job.

The Benson Plates on the outer hull shifted gratingly, turning to alter
the drive. The moan of the ether whorls pitched higher as the _Vulcan_
creaked to swing ponderously on a new course. It made a huge figure S
curve, designed to pull it out of the threatened spiral.

In seconds the proximity alarms shrilled. As the ship cut closer to
its pursuer Ray tightened the turn till the _Vulcan_ swung sharply to
right. There was a rattle of sound as loose objects spilled over the
decks.

The other ship was on the ordinary visiscreen now, a black streak that
danced to one side of the _Vulcan_. Under his feet, Ray could feel the
jarring thrust of McVane's converters, he could sense the leap of the
_Vulcan_ as he closed in the last dregs of power.

But still the other ship crept closer.

Ray shook his head silently at Lodar who stood at the interphone.
The captain glanced hastily at the visiscreen, turned back to his
mouthpiece.

"Got the range, Campora?" He leaned forward, hawklike. "Now!" he
bellowed.

The _Vulcan_ shook as the broadside was fired and the thrusting drive
faltered while power surged to the weapons.

It was a miss. Lodar swore.

"Fire at will," he yelled, slamming down the phone. He hurried to the
visiscreen.

       *       *       *       *       *

The other ship had shifted course to follow them, though it was still
abeam, still trying to drive them into a spiral. Ray swung the _Vulcan_
again, cutting dangerously close. The dot on the visiscreen swelled and
centered on the beam again.

Campora's crew were firing intermittently. A shot exploded on the
Company ship's hull, a spray of melted steel that flashed and was gone.

"We disabled them!" Lodar exulted.

The other ship was losing way, still holding its course, but slowing.
Then they flashed by it. Ray felt relief. The other wasn't badly hurt.
He'd get back to port.

And, in that moment, the Company ship blasted with all its guns. The
_Vulcan_ rocked under the blow of solid energy. A vast eruption tore
out a section of rear plating. The Benson Drive quit.

Then they were out of range.

Lodar was on the interphone. "Get on that damage!" he roared. "Campora,
keep those guns ready. McVane! Hello, McVane!" He slammed down the
instrument. "Some day I'll kill that McVane with my own hands!"

"Maybe he's hurt," Ray snapped.

Lodar grunted and picked up the phone again. "Hello, Williams, get a
first aid crew out and look for casualties."

He turned to pace the floor, aroused, thirsting now for action. Up and
down, up and down, as if the pent up energy flamed within him.

For the present the engagement was over. Both ships were damaged. They
would drift thousands of miles apart before either could resume flight.
At least the _Vulcan_ was fairly safe. And space was a vast hiding
place.

"They'll never take us now," Ray said, trying to divert Lodar's
ceaseless activity. The man positively burned with energy.

"Not alive, anyway!" The captain turned. "Not for their brand of
justice! You know why I was cashiered from the Earth Fleet? I was an
upstart. I didn't belong to the right clique. So when someone stole
the club funds they refused to hold a trial. Sure, they just asked me
quietly to resign so as to avoid a scandal." He ground his teeth. "I
was no thief!"

"That's when my wife left me," he added flatly. "Can you expect justice
from scum like that?" He glared. "Take all you can, my boy, and die
like a man when the time comes!"

It was the same old story Ray had heard a dozen times, and he was sick
of it. Also he was sick of Lodar's ceaseless pacing. The fight had left
the man wound up like a spring!

"I'll go look things over." Ray turned to the exit without waiting for
the other's approval.

The corridor was strangely silent now that the vast throb of the
converters no longer boomed along it. There was a dim clatter of
men working in the after section of the ship, but Ray turned to the
mid-section well and slid down to the engine room.

The auxiliary generator was whining briskly, but the main converters
were in bad shape. Blue, acrid smoke poured from the inspection plates,
hazed in the glaring lamplight, and there was a stinging odor of
extinguisher gases.

McVane was lying on the metal floor.

Ray dragged him to the well and put him on the elevator. The engineer
wasn't badly hurt, only a nasty cut on the head. In the upper passage
he halted Williams and several of the crew.

"Where's your first aid kit?" he demanded.

"Sorry, Sir." Williams grinned. "Captain ordered us on another job. The
kit's aft."

Swearing, Ray hurried to the after section and retrieved the medical
supplies. Back in the corridor, he decided to let the girl look after
McVane. She might as well be of some use.

He dragged McVane to the cabin and unlocked the door.

The girl inside almost bowled him over in a frantic attempt to escape.

"Here, quiet down!" He held the struggling figure, enjoying a brief
moment of her nearness. "The scrap is over. You're perfectly safe."

"I don't care about that!" the girl flamed. "What are you doing to my
friends?"

"Nothing." He turned her loose reluctantly. "Here, take care of
McVane." Watching her cautiously, he dragged the engineer inside.

"Let me out!" She tried to squeeze past him. "They're doing awful
things!"

"Calm down." He frowned uneasily. "You look after McVane. I'll take a
look at your friends."

Despite her protests he locked her in again, then impatiently hurried
to the well to slide down and turn into the hold.

Six of the crew were clustered by the cage which held the Mutes.

"What--" Then he saw what had happened. The sight made him sick.

The Mutes lay in grotesque heaps. Dead. They had been rayed!

"Who ordered this?" he demanded thickly. His mouth felt dry. His
stomach was tying itself into knots.

Williams' swarthy face turned his way. "Campora said it was the
captain's orders." The man spat deliberately. "A damned good idea, too,
unloading them!"


                                  IV

Abruptly Ray turned and ran for the upper deck. He burst into the
control room.

Lodar turned from the chart file. The captain's face was white. His
eyes burned starkly.

"So--you know they're dead." His voice was expressionless. "Are they
any worse off dead than in a zoo?"

"You ordered those Mutes killed!"

Lodar made a hopeless gesture. "If we're intercepted, and have to
fight, we'll all be killed, including the Mutes. So we get rid of them.
We're clean, we go to Earth!"

"Cold-blooded murder!" Ray gritted. "A cowardly--"

"Stop it!" Lodar's voice cracked. "They're not human. Getting
hysterical won't bring them back. Forget it. We're not playing
ring-around-the-rosy!"

"You'll pay for this!" Rage at his own helplessness almost gagged Ray.
"When we land on Earth I'm going to have you hunted down like a dog!"

"It takes evidence to hang a man." The captain chuckled mirthlessly.
"Do you think I'd willingly jettison a valuable cargo? We'll be
drifting for a week, at the mercy of any patrol ship that comes along.
I had to do it."

A sudden thought iced Ray's boiling emotions.

Ellenor! He'd have to watch out for the girl.

With the Mutes gone, Lodar would have to reckon with the girl.

Ray turned to the door. He had to get away from Lodar before he was
tempted to shoot the man!

"You and I are through, Lodar." He tried to keep his voice steady, to
bottle up his fury. He'd need all his wits to get out of this mess! His
former grudge against the Company, against Earth justice, was childish
and futile. He had been a brainless fool to fall for the romance, the
swashbuckling air of the _Vulcan_. "I'll work with you till we land,"
he said through clenched teeth. "After that we're through!"

He slammed the door behind him. He wanted to get as far away from
Lodar as possible, to the rear of the ship, where a repair crew was
blasphemously patching the hull.

Several space-suited figures were outside, welding the plates, while
others, inside, used plastic matting to save the air. Jenkins was in
command.

"Where are we now, Mr. Burk?" he asked Ray.

"About halfway to Earth." Ray tried to sound normal.

"Is the captain still insisting on going ahead?"

Ray nodded, dislike of the other welling in him.

"Looky." Jenkins drew him to one side. "The men don't like the idea,
see, of going to Earth. Most of us skipped out to space for a good
reason, see?"

Ray nodded again, and his lips tightened impatiently. Jenkins was a
bully.

"Well, sir, maybe you could persuade the captain to change his mind,
huh? We don't want trouble."

"All right, I'll see." Ray started to turn away.

"Campora tried to tell the captain." Jenkins' grimy paw rested on Ray's
arm, while he peered at him through his glasses. "But Lodar don't like
Campora, see?"

Ray had paused despite his loathing for the man.

"Sure." Jenkins moved closer. "Campora knifed a guy just before he
skipped Earth. It was his second offense. Don't let on I told you." He
looked anxious. "I was just trying to help, see?"

"Yes." Ray turned away disgustedly. "I'll talk to Lodar."

He was beginning to hate every man aboard the _Vulcan_. That wasn't
good. It was a sign of space hysteria. He'd have to guard against such
things.

Vigilance was the only safety factor.

Stay out in space too long and you begin to brood. Worse still if
you are psychologically able to stick it out long enough, you become
infected with the deadly space rays that burn you up with febrile
energy. Or you go batty with claustrophobia.

And they had all been out too long. They were reckless and unstable. He
must get Ellenor away safely if it was the last thing he ever did.

Before the day period was over he went to see the girl, dreading to
face her with the news of the Mutes' slaying. But she already knew.

"You needn't tell me." Her brown eyes were dazed with pain. "I know.
They are dead."

What was there to say? That he would have saved them if he could? That
he was sorry? Furious at Lodar? They were only fine words. He turned
silently to the bunk where McVane lay asleep, his gray head swathed in
bandages.

"He's all right," Ellenor said. "He lost a lot of blood, but I got the
cook to bring some food. He ate it."

Ray turned back to her. He took her arm and led her to a chair, aware
once more of that tingle of pleasure at the touch of her.

"I'll do what I can to help you," he said earnestly. "But you've got to
promise Lodar that you'll keep quiet. If you don't I'm afraid he'll--"

"I'm not afraid!" Her red lips curled. She had parted the long, dark
hair in two braids, which she was now tugging as if for emphasis. "If
you are my friend--"

"I am," he interrupted swiftly. "God knows I'm sorry enough to be
tangled up in this outfit! But it'll take more than just--"

The door opened and Lodar walked in. He glanced suspiciously at the
girl, then took a look at McVane. Evidently satisfied, he straightened
up.

"I saw the latch open and wondered if the girl was still safe."
His dark glance rested impassively on her. "Have you decided to be
sensible?"

"Sure she has," Ray said quickly.

"You can't frighten me!" The girl's dark eyes were unquailing before
Lodar's. Her voice rose. "It's you who is afraid, you murderer! No
matter how you strive--"

"Shut up!" Lodar said.

"You'll never see Earth!" she ended recklessly.

Lodar spun on his heels and stalked out.

"You idiot!" Ray hissed, then hurried after Lodar. She would drive the
man to drastic action in spite of all effort to save her silly little
neck! As he locked the door, Lodar eyed him curiously.

"Quite the spitfire, isn't she?" he remarked mildly.

Ray wondered if he meant just that or if he was covering up a consuming
rage. He was still wondering about it as he uneasily went to his own
cabin. Of one thing he was sure, that Lodar would save his own skin at
any cost!

That thought kept him tossing on his bunk long after he'd snapped off
the light. He could hear the captain's restless movements in his cabin
next door. He could hear the sounds of the Number Three repair crew,
his ears were straining for the hum of the converters.

There were many noises on the _Vulcan_, softer and more furtive. The
stir of men off duty, the murmur of voices. Uneasy speculations.

Opposition to Lodar's course seemed a material thing, a tangible force
distilled of fear. Like a cross current that moved deeply. Ray scowled
at the dark ceiling of his cabin. Of course, it was only imagination.
The unusual silences. The cessation of driving power on the _Vulcan_.
These were playing tricks with his ears. The _Vulcan_ was drifting,
slowly curving off course toward the sun.

       *       *       *       *       *

McVane was supervising repairs on his machines. He had moaned about
feeling sick, but Lodar had refused to listen to his pleas. For one
thing, they had drifted two days now and the _Vulcan_ had inevitably
expended its momentum against the solar pull. It had begun the long
fall sunward. And, beside the threat of being broiled, there was the
deadly danger of space rays. They would burn up a man just as surely,
even though in a different way. So haste was imperative.

It might take a week to repair the main converters. The insulation was
badly charred on the stator coils. Several were burned out completely.
So McVane was put to work.

The rattle of chain hoists and hiss of arc welder echoed hollowly
through the drifting ship. Even so, had it not been for the comforting
hum of the auxiliary generator the silence would have been maddening.

Ray had avoided seeing the girl since the death of the Mutes. Probably
she blamed him as much as the others for their murder, lumping him in a
general category of black infamy. And how could he prove to her that he
wasn't like Lodar, Campora, and the rest? Unless she could really sense
thoughts, as she hinted. It seemed preposterous, yet she might have
learned some such thing from the Mutes.

She might even know what Lodar was thinking! Ray grinned at that. Even
now the captain was probably fuming like an angry bull.

He was eating a huge meal when Ray entered his cabin to give him a
report. He continued to ladle vast quantities of hash while the young
navigator outlined the progress of repairs. Finally he threw down his
spoon and wiped his mouth.

"Those men are deliberately stalling on the job!" he snarled.

Ray didn't deny it. They'd both known it all along.

"If you'd change your mind about heading for Earth--" Ray stopped. The
dishes jumped as Lodar banged the table.

"Give in to a bunch of lousy space scum?" Lodar glared. "I know what
they're afraid of. Every one of them is a jailbird! But, by Jupiter,
I'm running this ship!"

"No one is running the ship right now," Ray said coldly. "The _Vulcan_
is falling faster every minute. Our distance from the sun--"

"I'll talk to the swabs!" Lodar's jaw bulged as he pushed away his
chair. "I'll beat out their brains if I have to!" He jerked open the
door, then stared out. "What do you want?"

Campora was standing in the corridor. At Lodar's expression he fell
back a pace, then held his ground.

"The men asked me to represent them--"

"Now, by hell!" Lodar roared. "I've had enough! Are you a First Mate or
a sniveling messenger boy for the crew? Get out of my way!"

"I want to warn you--"

"Stand aside." Lodar shoved the mate back.

"Better listen to him." Ray's voice was harsh. Lodar deserved all he
got, but there was no sense in stirring the _Vulcan_ to a charnal house
of mob violence. He knew only too well the temper of the crew after two
days of wracking tension.

"Listen to a coward like this?" Lodar sneered savagely and pointed at
Campora. "He's afraid for his own hide! But he wasn't scared to stick a
knife in a man's back on Earth! Oh, no! But now he's petrified at the
thought of a policeman. He's stirring up the crew. He's a traitor to
his rating!"

"You can't handle men when your own temper blows up!" Ray snapped.
Lodar should know that. He was an ex-fleet man.

Lodar jerked round, visibly struggling for control. "I guess you're
right," he admitted slowly, his first fury spent. He turned to the
mate, whose sallow face and slitted eyes were full of venom. "So you're
afraid of Earth and the police, the whole kit and kaboodle of you.
Well, we won't land there."

Campora looked his utter disbelief.

"We'll swing a thousand miles off Earth and I'll land in the escape
boat. You can go on to Mars, sell the _Vulcan_ to pay off the crew and
yourself." Lodar smiled grimly. "Now get out of my way!"

As the captain strode down the corridor, Campora turned bitterly to
the young navigator.

"He's lying, he's going to land on Earth. The filthy double-crosser
wants to pay us off with a stolen ship, too!" Campora grabbed Ray's
arms. "That escape boat is loaded with his takings. Thinks we're a
bunch of suckers to let him be the big shot on dear old Earth! We'll
see about that!"

"You're a fine officer!" Ray stared at the mate.


                                   V

It was a mystery to him how Campora had ever won his position. Once
upon a time he must have had a lot of ambition, because it took a lot
of drive for a self-educated man like Campora to become an officer.
Perhaps the struggle had soured him.

Ray knew how tough it was. He'd had to fight his way, but--He stopped
in mid-thought. Actually, he was no better. They were all in the same
boat!

When Ray went aft a little later he found the repair crew working
furiously. Lodar paced back and forth between the two main converters,
his fists clenched and eyes alert. One of the crew lay sprawled in a
corner. A glance was enough. The man was dead.

Ray shrugged mentally. Lodar was within his rights, as captain, to
enforce his orders even to this extent.

Nor did Lodar relax his driving vigilance one whit as the hours dragged
by. He raged from crew to crew, hammering down all sign of opposition,
aflame with a single purpose--to repair the ship and take it to Earth.
Anger, pride, or stubbornness--it made no difference which drove
him--his mind was made up.

There was no turning him now.

"I'll run the _Vulcan_ where I wish if I have to kill every man of
you!" he raged.

Ray searched the crew's quarters and removed all likely weapons. He got
a spare key for McVane's cabin and took it to the girl.

"Better lock yourself in," he told her. "There may be trouble!"

"I know." Her dark eyes were serious. "If you would only persuade the
captain--"

"Nothing doing!" Again he felt an impulse to touch her, to hold her.
He wondered if it sprang from his own mind or hers--or was he just
nuts? But her smile, at least, sent a flood of warm relief coursing
through him as he left.

He turned to his own cabin.

As navigator, there was nothing at present for him to do. It might be
best for him to get some rest while he could. He was afraid to sleep,
but long training had taught him how to cat-nap. He relaxed, keeping an
ear trained for trouble.

The repair work must go on or the _Vulcan_ was lost, for the sun was
perilously close. Ray had been afraid to tell the crew just how close,
because the single escape ship would hold only a fraction of them.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was suddenly aware that the
sound of work had ceased. Instead he could hear the quavering notes of
McVane's voice, singing lugubriously. Plainly he was sad.

    "_I'd give a thousand years in hell in pain
    To see my Nelly once again!_"

And drunk!

Ray jerked on his tunic and hurried out.

In the corridor he paused at Lodar's cabin and tried the door. It was
locked. So, Lodar had gone to bed, contemptuously certain that he'd
licked the crew into shape. Which meant that Campora should be in
charge.

But there was an air of unease, of impending disaster, in the driveless
ship. Perhaps it was a result of McVane's doleful song, but Ray found
himself suddenly tense.

The ship was too quiet. No sound came from below as he went to the
well. Even McVane had quit his lament. Momentarily Ray was tempted to
see if Ellenor was all right. He decided against it, hurried along the
corridor to the crew's quarters, aft.

As soon as he stepped inside the mess room, suspicion froze him. At his
step the huddle of men had suddenly broken. The faces which turned his
way all wore the same tense look.

It was time for the payoff!

       *       *       *       *       *

There would be no more talk. Their faces told him that.

Jenkins peered at Ray through his glasses. Without preamble, he
demanded, "Are you in with us or Lodar?"

It was a ridiculous question. All of Ray's training had conditioned him
to meet such emergency in only one way. Right or wrong, there was only
one answer.

He leaped back through the door and slammed it, then swung the
emergency latch and spun the sealing wheel. It would hold them for a
while--till they burned it down.

He dashed for the central well, slid down the pole in a mad spiral, and
jumped for the engine room. McVane was alone at his desk, a shrunken
figure in the glaring lights, his head slumped down on his chest.

Ray kicked the chair from under him and hauled him erect. "Get to the
control room!" he panted.

McVane's lean hand closed on his bottle, then his feet were dragging
as Ray hauled him to the well. His head wobbled as he took up the song
again.

    "_She's gone and never will I see
    My sweetheart, dear to me._"

"You fool!" Ray shook him violently. "There's mutiny! Up, quick!"
He propelled the smaller man up the stairs. In the main corridor he
stopped at the girl's cabin.

"Here." He shook McVane again, then handed him the keys. "Get that girl
to the control room."

While McVane fumbled at the lock Ray hammered on Lodar's cabin. It was
an age before the captain appeared. His dark eyes took in McVane and
the girl, then swept back to Ray.

"Trouble, eh?" Without waiting to hear more he reached for his gun and
joined them.

It was vital to hold the front of the ship. In any other section they
would be merely prisoners. Lodar ran swiftly past McVane and the girl,
while Ray brought up the rear, alert for attack.

So Lodar was first to enter the control room.

Ray didn't see what happened, but a moment later came the zing of ray
guns, a scream. Campora stumbled from the room. He ran past Ray, still
screaming, headed aft, waving an arm which was blasted to a stump.

Ray went on, gritting his teeth.

"Didn't expect us so soon," Lodar said grimly as they gathered in
the control room. "He figured on holding this place, but he got too
excited!" He pointed to the splatter of burned metal where Campora's
shot had missed him.

He turned to McVane who was looking sick. "Here, take this gun and
stand by." Then, as he shoved the weapon in the other's shaking hand,
"We'll jump 'em before they organize." He faced Ray. "Coming?"

Ray nodded grimly. He was playing a travesty of an officer's duty, but
it was the only way.

The two went down the passage, peering into cabins as they headed for
the well. Here Lodar slammed down the fire hatch, thus blocking off the
lower deck. He had just snapped the last wedge when Ray heard the clang
of metal aft, and the patter of feet. The crew had burned out of their
prison.

"Let's hold them here," Ray said. "I took their guns yesterday."

"Good!" Lodar stood beside him, legs outspread.

But as the first man, Williams, appeared and sighted Lodar, there was
the vicious zing of a ray gun. The wall beside Lodar erupted sizzling
metal as he ducked.

"So you took their guns!" he snarled, firing at the same time as Ray.

With yells, their attackers retreated, blasting wildly. The corridor
filled with acid smoke and red-hot metal. Half the lights were gone,
the rest were hazed by the stinking fumes. The mutineers were firing
blindly from behind a corner, depending upon mere volume rather than
any sort of aiming.

"Back up!" Lodar gasped. "Campora gave them all those weapons."

They retreated to the control room and bolted the door, while McVane
and the girl stared.

"We're in a spot," Lodar admitted.

"And we can thank you for it," Ray snapped. "This crew will have no
more compunction over killing us than they had over bumping off those
Mutes!"

"Well, now." McVane shifted his feet restlessly. "Let's not squabble.
Anyway, 'twas Campora persuaded the captain to get rid of the Mutes."

They all tensed at a sudden sound outside--metal dragging the floor and
voices. Then suddenly the smell of burning paint.

The door panel turned red, the paint peeled off, and dropped to the
deck. Within seconds a hole blazed through.

Lodar aimed his gun at the opening and fired. He grinned as a yelp
sounded, then moved beside the door to trigger several bursts along the
corridor beyond. There were horrible yells, the scurry of retreat, then
silence. Lodar stooped to peer.

"Got four of 'em," he announced. "That'll cool 'em off!"

He crossed swiftly to the chart case, heaved it aside, and slid open a
small hidden panel. He reached inside to close a switch. "This'll help
too," he added grimly. "Gas!"

"What a monster!" the girl said.

       *       *       *       *       *

Lodar ignored her. He was looking at McVane. The engineer had taken a
bottle from his pocket, was stretching his scraggy neck to gurgle it.

"Can't you stay sober?" With a stride Lodar swept the bottle away and
smashed it on the deck.

"What for?" McVane slumped against the wall.

Lodar raised his hands angrily, but Ellenor moved swiftly and swung him
away from the groggy engineer.

"Let him alone!" she raged. "He doesn't care any more. You can't beat
that out of him!"

Lodar's eyes glittered. "You know too much about everything," he said
tightly.

Her chin tilted defiantly. "I know that you'll never see Earth again!"

"Damn you!" He lashed out suddenly. His slap sent her sprawling against
the wall.

With a snarl Ray hurled himself at Lodar. His fist slammed a shoulder
as Lodar spun to meet the infuriated charge. A second blow, that
crunched Ray's knuckles on the other's head, never even jarred the
larger man.

Growling, he reached out. His huge hands closed on Ray's neck, the
thumbs dug into his windpipe.

"You dumb fool!" Lodar's clenched teeth lay bare between tight drawn
lips. Convulsively his strangling grip tightened.

Ray's fist slammed the grinning lips, with savage joy he felt the smash
of teeth. He hammered at Lodar's face, beating it in frenzied rage
while his lungs strained for air. His back jolted the wall and Lodar
was slamming his head on the plates.

His lungs were jerking, the room blurred with pulsing darkness. He saw
only Lodar's blazing eyes, felt the power of his viselike grip. The man
was made of steel, driven by raw violence.

And, in that flashing moment, Ray guessed Lodar's secret, the why of
his driving energy, cagelike pacings, and burning eyes!

Space Rays! Ray heaved convulsively, trying to break the strangling
grip.

Lodar had been too long in space. The days were killing him, burning
him up inside. He would go on with roaring metabolism, like an
overdriven jet, till his heart burst!

And that would be soon now. Lodar's compelling urge to return to Earth
was the instinct of a dying animal for its lair, to die with its kind.
Nothing would stop him. Nothing except death!

The pounding in Ray's head flashed streams of light through the
blackness. Only faintly could he feel his own hands beating for air.

Then suddenly his tortured lungs heaved, sucking in life. The grinding
clutch dropped from his throat. For a moment he could only gulp, rub
his agonized neck. Then slowly sight returned.

McVane stood holding a gun. There was a foolish, startled look on his
lined face as he stared at Lodar. The captain, gritting his teeth and
leaning on the control board, held a hand to his shoulder. It was a
mass of blood and rags.

"You--you fool!" Lodar swayed, starting at the engineer. "You
bleary-eyed little Sir Galahad!"

The girl was pressing a cup of water to Ray's lips. He drank, still
gagging, staring at her bruised face. He was conscious of her arm
around him, of the pleasure her nearness lent. He shook his throbbing
head.

McVane was speaking petulantly. "Let's--let's have no more arguments."
The little man's eyes were pleading. "I had to do it, Lodar. And
you're the only real friend I had!"

"Some friend!" Lodar ground his teeth in pain, then grimaced as blood
dripped from the smashed gums. "Here, help me patch up this shoulder."

Obediently McVane hunted up bandages. Lodar's eyes were somber as the
engineer and Ellenor tied up his burned shoulder and put the useless
arm in a sling.

"I lost my temper," he muttered at last. "Forget it."

He probably meant it for a declaration of peace. Ray's own fury had
cooled now he knew what lay behind the other's violence.

After all, the girl's words must have stung Lodar to a hopeless frenzy.
She had blasted at his innermost longing to see Earth for the last
time. Deep in his own heart he'd known all along that he would die like
a dog in space. Her words had only drawn the searing truth from his own
subconscious hell.

They all jumped as the interphone shrilled.

Ray switched on the speaker. There was a medley of sound, smashing
glass, shouts, and laughter.

"They've got into McVane's liquor." Lodar crossed the room painfully
till he stood beside Ray.

"Ay--and the gas didn't stop them," the engineer added. "They plugged
the lines."

Suddenly Jenkins' voice cut shrilly above the background din on the
speaker. "Can you hear me, Lodar?"

"I hear you." Lodar's eyes were slitted with pain.

"Okay." There was a fumbling sound. "We're going on to Mars. Take it or
leave it. You set the course and we'll get your damned engines going."

"You can rot!"

"Better think it over, Captain. If you monkey around too long, the boys
will get impatient. We'll wreck the engines!"

"You wreck those engines and none of you will see Mars or any other
place," Lodar said heavily. "There's only one escape boat and the only
way to it is through this control room. I'll leave you stranded!"

Jenkins' laughter rattled the speaker. "We'll shoot you down with the
broadsides if you try!" There was a rustling, then, "Hang on, Lodar, a
friend of yours wants to talk!"


                                  VI

There was a hiss of breath, then Campora's voice cut in. The low tones
were shaken by fury. "I'll be waiting, Lodar. No matter where we land,
I'll kill you!" His voice rose higher. "So help me, Lodar, if I have to
burn while I do it, I'll kill you!"

His voice had cracked hysterically while a shout of approval from the
others welled over the receiver.

Lodar snapped off the speaker. "I should have burned off both his
arms!" he rumbled. He went to the medical kit and took another pain
killer.

If there had been any chance of talking Lodar into a compromise Ray
would have tried, but he knew it was useless. Lodar was hag-ridden by
that compulsion to head for Earth. Like a dying elephant he was blind
to all else. If necessary, the death of the _Vulcan_ would be his swan
song.

As for the crew, liquor had flamed their hatred of the captain beyond
all reason. Campora would certainly never back down now. Nor would it
do any good to tell them of their peril from the sun. They'd think he
was lying!

Had there been time, there was air and food enough for a siege, but the
sun was too close now. A lengthy deadlock would be fatal.

The only other solution was to flee on the escape ship. Leave the crew
to their doom. Ray tried not to think what that would be like--the
slow roasting to death for the crew. But, even as the thought kept
recurring, he knew escape that way was hopeless. As soon as the escape
boat took off the crew would blast it with the broadside guns. Anything
within miles of their blast would be shriveled!

Nor did Ray like the way in which McVane and Lodar were now whispering
on the other side of the room.

Lodar had unearthed a bottle of Terran Whiskey in the emergency kit and
had given it to McVane. They'd had a drink together. A peace offering.
Now the engineer was adjusting Lodar's bandages, whispering in urgent
tones.

The captain's eyes, pin-pointed with pain, rested somberly on Ray,
then shifted as the young navigator returned the stare. Lodar muttered
something, his expression setting purposefully. As he stood up,
twisting his lips, Ray moved closer to the girl.

He knew Lodar well enough to expect anything. And McVane, after all,
was Lodar's man. They'd traveled together too long to split in a pinch.

As the two now crossed the room toward him Ray's hand closed on his
gun. At the suspicious move, Lodar's eyes gleamed sardonically.

"Mac and I were talking it over," he said. "Even if we lick the crew
there's no time left to repair the _Vulcan_. She's going to take the
sun-dive."

Ray nodded silently. Ellenor's hand was resting on his gun arm and
it bothered him. He tried to shake her off, but she seemed intent on
holding onto him. At any other time he would have been thrilled, but
not now.

Lodar went on carefully. The escape boat would hold all four of them
but it couldn't make a getaway. Their only alternative was a diversion.

"Two of us stay on the _Vulcan_ and engage the crew," Lodar concluded.
"The other two get away."

The proposal was an obvious solution, but, coming from Lodar, it could
hide black treachery. The captain's overwhelming desire to see Earth
again had already precipitated disaster. The man was blind to all but
the one great yearning.

"Ellenor wouldn't be any good in a scrap," Ray countered slowly, trying
to find a hitch in the plan. "She takes off with one of us."

Lodar argued bitterly. The girl had given enough trouble, she rated no
better break than the rest. The lucky ones should be chosen by chance,
and chance alone.

Ray flatly refused to budge.

When Ellenor tried to enter the argument it deteriorated into a wrangle
between the captain and herself. By this time McVane had almost reached
the singing stage again, plainly endeavoring to drown his fright now
that the chips were down. Finally the girl took his bottle from him.

"All right!" Lodar growled at last. "I'm in no shape to argue forever.
One of us goes with the girl. We'll choose by lot."

       *       *       *       *       *

He turned to rummage in the emergency kit again. "Ah!" He found a tin
of wooden matches and clumsily broke it open. "We'll use three of
these. I'll break two, leave one whole. The man who picks the whole one
goes with the girl. Right?"

Ray frowned. He trusted neither Lodar nor McVane, but there was no
other way to decide the issue unless they resorted to a free-for-all.

"All right," he agreed slowly. "Let Ellenor hold the matches."

Lodar sneered.

"Now wouldn't that be nice for you!" he snarled. "I'll hold them. I'm
still giving orders. Or do you want to argue about that, too?" His hand
rested on his gun belt.

Ray hesitated. It wasn't so much that he was afraid to die. Only he
didn't want to be suckered into it. On the other hand, Lodar had an
equal right to be suspicious. "All right," he agreed slowly.

"Don't do it!" Ellenor protested sharply. "There must be another way."
But no one paid any attention.

Lodar turned his back and they heard him break two of the matches. When
he faced them again there were three little sticks in his large fist.
Only the tops showed.

He extended his arm to McVane. "You first. It was your idea!"

McVane blinked, biting his lip, then slowly chose one of the little
bits of wood. His hand closed over it, felt it blindly, then he sat
down licking his lips. As an afterthought he reached for the bottle.

Lodar grunted, a satisfied grin distorted his split lips.

"You next." His black eyes burned on Ray.

The younger man took one of the two remaining matches. He exhaled
sharply as he drew out a whole one.

Lodar rasped an oath, drew the remaining match across the room. "You
win!" he ground out.

Ray relaxed slowly. A faint surprise tinged his relief. He had
misjudged Lodar, expecting him at the last moment to renege. Instead,
the big man had merely turned to McVane.

"So you and I are the hostages, eh, Mac?" A grim smile lit his face,
while his hand rested briefly on the other's narrow shoulder. "Come on,
let's get going."

The three men prepared the escape boat. As they loaded the little ship
with extra provisions, Ray was alert for treachery, but the captain
seemed to have taken his fate philosophically. He even tried to cheer
up McVane, though his heavy witticisms only made the little man look
sadder.

"Get that girl in," he growled at last.

Ellenor paused briefly as she entered the escape port. Her eyes sought
Lodar's. "I'm sorry about the things I said," she offered gently. "I--"

"Go on, get in!" Lodar shoved her, then turned to Ray. "You too. Get
set for takeoff. When McVane and I tackle the crew I'll toss a signal
bomb into the corridor. You'll hear it explode. Take off, fast!"

Ray nodded. He shook hands with McVane, hesitated briefly, then offered
his hand to Lodar.

"Go on!" Lodar snarled. "Get out before I get some sense and change my
mind!"

Before Ray closed the inner lock, McVane passed him an envelope. "Give
it to the girlie," he muttered.

Inside the escape ship, Ray closed the little hatch, then touched the
emergency button which swung open the outer port on the _Vulcan's_
hull. With the butt of his gun he hammered a signal. They were ready.

Neither he nor Ellenor spoke as they waited. The seconds dragged in
silence except for the sound of their breathing.

Suddenly a hollow boom resounded, followed by the sharp rattle of metal.

"That's it!" Ray gunned the little escape ship clear.

They were out in space. The black shape of the _Vulcan_ swung behind
them, dwindling. It looked inert and ghostly. It looked a dead ship,
with no sign of the conflict that was raging inside.

Ray turned the escape boat sharply left, away from the sun, and set the
drive for Earth. Behind them the _Vulcan_ was fading into blackness off
to one side of Sol. Now and then a pale gleam touched the dark sides as
it swung sluggishly.

       *       *       *       *       *

It was all the escape ship could do to gain steady acceleration against
the mighty pull behind them. For a while Ray nursed the tiny converter
along, till he was sure the drive was winning. Then he joined Ellenor
in the cramped little mid-section.

Her brown hair was combed back, starkly outlining the pale face. Her
brown eyes were large, underneath one of them was the ugly bruise from
Lodar's hand.

"We're loaded down with loot," Ray growled disgustedly. "Let's hope
there's grub enough to see us to Earth."

He stared sharply as she remained huddled silently. She was holding the
envelope which McVane had given. As he sat down beside her she passed
him a sheet of paper. He recognized McVane's untidy scrawl.

"Lodar always wanted to end in a blaze of glory," he read, "so this
idea was O.K. with him, too." Ray stared, puzzled.

The girl raised her hand, showing him the two matches that had been
wrapped in the note. They were both unbroken!

"Why," Ray gasped, "that means--"

"Lodar cheated," she said softly.

Ray stared back at the _Vulcan_. His hand was on the controls, poised
to turn back the little ship. It was unthinkable to leave Lodar now!

"It won't do any good," Ellenor said. "Lodar's life was spent anyway.
But McVane--" Suddenly she was crying.

Ray's arm was around her. "He was a hesitant little hero, wasn't he?"
He smiled gently down on the girl. They knew that McVane had never
loved life, was only drinking himself to the grave, but a deep sense of
pity smote him.

Perhaps the fight inside the _Vulcan_ would be over swiftly as Lodar
had his moment of glorious battle. Perhaps McVane would die quite
happily beside his friend.

It wouldn't be entirely in vain.

Ray felt a new purpose in his own life. Lodar's wealth would fight for
the right of the Mutes to life, and Ray would join Ellenor, see that
she was protected, helped in the battle to come with the powers that
sought to enslave her Venus.

It seemed his fate was always to be inextricably tangled with that of
the Mutes.

       *       *       *       *       *

    _Recommendations by the Board of Space Navigators, entered this 3rd
    day of November, 2268._

    1. _That Navigator Ray Burk be severely reprimanded for_:

    _a. Failure to prevent a mutiny._

    _b. Failure to prevent the_ Vulcan's _attack on the Company Ship_
    Elixir, _which was damaged_.

    _2. That the wealth of Captain Lodar be turned over to Ray Burk
    according to the laws of salvage, but minus_

    _a. 25% Federal Tax._

    _b. A fine of 10 credits assessed for each Mute killed._

    _3. That Ray Burk be reinstated to rank of Navigator, Unlimited._

    _4. That he be assigned the task of investigating conditions on the
    planet, Venus._

    _5. That the young woman known as Ellenor be transported freely to
    her home on Venus._

    _Entered into record by Carter A. Pringle._

    _Reprimands (a) and (b) delivered. Witness, Carter A. Pringle._

    _Probate court to deliver funds of Lodar (deceased)._

    _per Carter A. Pringle._

    _Addendum: Section five, (5) above, cancelled as not necessary;
    Ellenor having contracted for matrimony with Ray Burk, Navigator
    Unlimited, and being no longer a public charge._

    _Annotated by Carter A. Pringle_




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