Solar Assassins Page 9

  Then he turned around. He was just in time to see Hollander straighten up with a groan and turn to the uniformed prisoner.

  "What happened?"

  Not wholly collected yet himself, the prisoner shook his head. "I don't know," he shrugged. "Anyway that's the longest transition I've ever experienced. Look there!" He pointed toward the single viewscreen that was functioning. "See where we've come out at!"

  "Where is that?" asked Hollander naively as he stared at the screen.

  "That's just the question: I don't know. I don't see a single familiar constellation. I'm pretty sure that the most experienced astronaut on board won't be able to figure out our location."

  For a few moments Hollander was at a loss. Then he turned away and went over to the tracking console. When he saw the green-lit radar screen, his face beamed. "At least we accomplished one thing!" he cried out. "Those ships have disappeared!"

  He turned back again into the room and chanced to notice Mullon. It seemed as if he. just now remembered that Mullon was in the Control Central. "Ah-h-h, Mullon!" he drawled out for emphasis. "You see now that we lived through the transition! It's true we don't know where we are but we're all in good health. You will now surrender yourself. The Council of the Free Settlers Anti-Socialists will process your case."

  Mullon remained unusually calm. Both hands were behind his back and no one could see that he had hold of two vital controls. "You're mistaken, Hollander," he answered with a smile. "I am not surrendering. Through your own thick-headedness you've brought us into a situation that can easily mean death for all of us. You have made a hypertransition with a damaged converter, which has ended us up in the Unknown. How do you know whether or not there are any inhabitable worlds in this region? And if there actually are any... do you have the means to locate them among the unnumbered stars?"

  "You, Hollander, are a fool, and a dangerous one. You're only afraid that the Earth patrol cruisers will catch up to you and your bunch of gangsters a second time but I am afraid that 8000 people may have to die because of your stupidity!"

  "You said before that the receiver had been destroyed. All right, but nothing's wrong with the transmitter. I've fired everything up, Hollander. I only have to press one key here and the transmitter will broadcast some kind of coded message to all sectors of space and at least one Earth ship will have to intercept it. Then the Earth will know where we've come out at and they will send help. I'm sorry, Hollander, but your personal concerns will have to bow to the interests of the majority!"

  Hollander had become pale. He was about to say something. He took a step forward as though to attack Mullon. But he neither said anything more nor took another step.

  Mullon's hands tensed as, he depressed both keys behind him with a sweeping stroke of his palms. A soft humming sound emerged from the hypercom equipment, which became very audible in the sudden stillness of the Control Central. The humming noise was the only indication that the transmitter was operating.

  Mullon's arms relaxed at his side. "So!" he said. "Now why don't you bring me before your ridiculous Council—that is, if you can take me alive."

  Since it was Suttney who had brought Mullon to the bridge, no one had thought to search Mullon for weapons. He carried a micro-beamer in his pocket.

  By the time Hollander regained his wits, Mullon already held the weapon in his hand. He knew that in spite of this the odds were against him. There were too many men in the Control Central and all of them with the exception of the prisoner were Nature Philosophers. He only had one pair of eyes in his head. He could not see what went on behind him.

  But he could hold Hollander at bay. Hollander stood only seven or eight paces away from him. And as long as he saw the barrel of a micro-raygun aimed at him he would take care not to order an attack on Mullon.

  "You won't get far with that, Mullon!" he shouted. "Lay down your weapon and surrender!"

  Mullon shook his head. "No, Hollander. I've got you right in my sights. Even if I get hit by 10 shots all at once I'll have enough strength to bend my trigger finger. If you value your life..."

  "No!" screamed Hollander in a paroxysm of alarm. "Don't shoot, you fools!" He was not shouting at Mullon but at some of his men who had drawn their weapons and were aiming at Mullon's back.

  Mullon felt gooseflesh creep over him.

  There was just one small remaining hope: that the messenger he had sent from the engine room had managed to get to Wolley and O'Bannon and that those two would be undertaking something that might free him. Meanwhile the game was a draw. No one dared move. For the time being, Hollander's men controlled themselves and replaced their weapons in their pockets or belts.

  Hollander and Mullon stood facing each other eye to eye.

  Minutes passed, each a small eternity.

  Mullon lost all sense of time. When he found out later that he had stood there motionlessly for three-quarters of an hour by the hypercom without letting Hollander out of his sight for a moment, he was very amazed.

  But it was of no use because Hollander won by a ruse.

  Somebody behind Mullon emitted a sharp, bloodcurdling scream. After the long, irritating stillness in the Control Central this sound was so unexpected and startling that it caused Mullon to duck reflexively and whirl around. Somewhere, something rattled. The tension that had held everyone prisoner now broke loose in a hysterical, crazy bedlam.

  Mullon realized that he had been taken in. He jumped free of the hypercom where he'd been standing and it was just in time to avoid 10 blinding energy beams that hissed close past him simultaneously. They struck the hypercom installation and converted it into a boiling mass of metal, glass and plastic.

  Mullon struck his shoulder against a control desk. Swiftly he threw himself around and tried to use it for cover. In the first place, its protection was hypothetical since it stood out in the centre of the room and Hollander's men were on every side.

  He wounded two men who were closest to him and hurried to one side. For a second time the whistling energy beams struck but a moment too late. The control desk burst into flames. It began to glow and then caved in.

  Mullon aimed shots at a group of men who in their confusion and fear of hitting each other had not brought their weapons into play. His small beamer spit out sharply focused energy in all directions. He didn't intend to kill anyone; his weapon was operating at minimum intensity and unless such shots made a direct hit in the heart or head areas they did not result in death.

  He managed to out-manoeuvre them for awhile. He came to the side of the room where the main control console was installed and there fought off the opposition with his back to the control counter. Then he made a long dive forward and slid a number of yards on his stomach across the smooth deck. Something scorching hot bit into his shoulder but the pain disappeared quickly; it had only been a glancing shot.

  He realized that his only salvation was in movement. He ran, shot, jumped, rolled across the deck, shot again, took another dive and finally felt that his breath had left him. Things began to go black before his eyes.

  Through the roaring in his ears he heard an excited shout: "They're coming! Scram out of here, men!"

  He didn't know who was coming, who was disappearing and what he should save himself from. He shuddered feebly for the last time and then lay motionless under the astronautical instrument console.

  Vaguely he heard shouts, scuffling and angry commands. He heard a sound that was like the mighty hissing of a blowtorch. And then he heard a voice that knocked all the debility and pain out of him at one blow. It was O'Bannon's bellowing set of pipes which would have been recognized in the midst of a thousand voices by anyone who had ever heard him bellow before.

  Mullon sat up. As though through a fog he saw that the Control Central was empty except for the wounded who lay on the deck. He got up and came forward to the main hatchway. It stood wide open and beyond it men could be seen racing by toward the right.

  Directly opposite him where one of the main
passages opened into the circular corridor he saw O'Bannon standing, husky, broad-shouldered and huge. In front of him stood something that looked like a cannon out of the Civil War.

  Mullon couldn't sense that the air in the circular hall was heated to the boiling point or that he couldn't draw a breath. He saw O'Bannon, saw him recognize, him and wave to him.

  He saw O'Bannon and his men push into the curving passageway with their ancient-looking cannon. Now that he knew that he was safe, that O'Bannon stood before the Control Central and there was nobody to keep him from taking possession of the bridge, Mullon succumbed to his weakness.

  He slipped down the frame of the open hatchway onto the deck and in the same moment he lost consciousness.

  9/ REBIRTH

  "For heaven's sake," said a booming voice, "Isn't he ever going to wake up?"

  Mullon recognized the voice but he had trouble in getting his eyes to open. He finally succeeded, however, and saw O'Bannon's face close before him. Beside him was Freddy, her eyes glistening with joy.

  "Thank God!" roared O'Bannon. "For awhile there we thought—"

  Mullon tensed suddenly as a piercing pain shot through his shoulder. His vision darkened momentarily but he fought his weakness. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Is the Control Central...?"

  "Yes, yes, we've taken it," interrupted O'Bannon. "2 days ago; that's how long you've been unconscious. Here's the situation: the Nature Philosophers have been completely beaten. Hollander and his most important men are in our hands. Hollander is badly wounded but he'll come out of it alive.

  "Actually we should be pretty happy about it all but the drive engines are as good as kaput. When Hollander made the transition there was an explosion in the engine room. Fortunately Stokes told the men to take cover just in the nick of time. The converter has been completely destroyed; it just barely went through this one hyperjump and that's it. Due to the collapse of the converter the Adventurous only has about 10% manoeuvrability. We can't go to the right or the left but just straight-ahead. A landing will be somewhat of a problem. We can't even search out or make any choice of landing places; we just have to wait till a planet shows up and go down right there where gravity can grab hold of us.

  "So much for the bad news. After all, there is also some good news: the Nature Philosophers are basically prepared to work together with us. Of course Hollander wasn't asked about it; he's still out cold. The captured crewmembers have been set free.

  "Secondly: the Adventurous isn't more than a few light-years away from a giant blue-white star. The observation station has been able to make out that it has a whole flock of planets. So in that part we've been lucky; we don't have far to look. Naturally this sun is completely unknown but that isn't so tragic as long as we can just find a place to set ourselves down.

  "Further: the fight with Hollander and his men didn't cause any complete casualties. There's a heck of a lot of blisters in the crowd but no corpses. But above all I have to tell you about my cannon. I ran across it up in one of the main holds and... hey! Aren't you listening to me any more?"

  In his enthusiasm O'Bannon had prattled on without noticing that after Mullon had heard the most important part of the story he had turned to Freddy. By the time O'Bannon noticed this, the two were already in each other's arms.

  "Oh well," muttered O'Bannon and he went to the door. "I'll look in on you sometime later

  • • •

  On the single viewscreen that still functioned, the bright grey mass of a mighty planet was to be seen. The borderline of day and night stood out sharply on an impenetrable layer of clouds.

  Analyzes were made and Mullon learned that the atmosphere of this world had a mixture of oxygen and nitrogen comparable to that of Earth.

  The giant blue-white sun was at a distance of 3.6 billion miles, which was the distance from Earth's sun to Pluto. But the radiation strength of the huge star was powerful enough when at its zenith to heat the planet's surface to 120 Fahrenheit, according to the indications of sensitive instruments on board.

  "We're going to be fairly warm," sighed Mullon. "At least I don't think we're going to have to worry about finding fuel to burn."

  More results of the analyzes came through. The planet—so far nobody had given it a name—moved on a slightly eccentric orbit: its variance from the plane of its central sun didn't change much in the course of a planetary year. Moreover the planetary year had a duration of 170 Earth years. The planet's axis was only 10 off the plane of its orbit so that the seasons of the year would not be exceptionally marked down on the surface.

  Then came the final announcement: surface gravity was 1.2G. Anyone who weighed 155 pounds on Earth would weight about 186 pounds here.

  Mullon was satisfied. Judging from a diameter of 24,000 miles, which the planet seemed to measure, the fact that the gravity wasn't any heavier must have been due to an abnormally low density.

  Aside from Mullon and a few other men he was using for messengers, the Control Central contained all members of the former crew who had knowledge of astrogation. The highest ranking among them was a first lieutenant. He admitted that he had never navigated a major-sized ship by himself but he promised to do everything that was in his power.

  The settlers were duly informed of the facts of the matter and that under certain circumstances a crash landing was not unlikely. A deep silence reigned through the ship. The people had assembled in the community mess halls and stared at the few viewscreens that were functioning.

  The first lieutenant issued navigation instructions and technical man Stokes carried them out. As though he were afraid of breaking the control lever, Stokes took hold of it carefully and gingerly pressed the release button.

  The Adventurous moved sluggishly into a curve and turned its jet rings toward the surface of the planet—at least that section of them that functioned the best. The ship's altitude began to drop. Somebody read off the altimeter numbers in a monotonous voice.

  The alien planet had long since grown in apparent size to where it filled the viewscreens. The ship lowered itself over a broad, green-colored region. The upper part of the viewscreens showed the green shading giving way to a blinding bright grey which presented contours of cliffs. The lower part of the screens changed abruptly to a dark greenish brown which no doubt indicated the presence of forests.

  Mullon was fascinated by the strange view. Involuntarily he kept on the lookout for any signs of intelligent life but he couldn't discover any. Instead he found a river that wound its way tortuously through the green plain below. "It would be a good thing," he half whispered aloud, "if we could land near that river."

  Stokes overheard him. "Slim chance!"

  Mullon felt a shudder travel through the ship and for a moment he lost his balance.

  Stokes looked up. "The antigravs are cutting in!" he said dryly. "Let's hope the generators hold out till we're down there."

  Mullon knew that only a fraction of the ship's mass, drawn by the mighty planet's attraction, could be supported by the impulses from the chemical jets. The rest of it was supported by a synthetic gravity field that opposed the planet's natural gravitation and permitted the ship to descend gradually.

  8 minutes later the antigrav generator stopped working completely. The descent velocity of the ship, now left to the mercy of its overdriven engines, jumped suddenly to 300 feet per second and continued to increase.

  Stokes got up from his seat and wiped sweat off his brow. Since the generator had gone out the present condition of weightlessness caused him to rise from the deck and float to the ceiling but it didn't seem to make any difference to Stokes.

  On the other hand, Mullon had a hard time to keep from screaming in his anxiety. Weightlessness produced an alarming sense of being in free fall. Also, the ship's distance from the surface of the planet had narrowed meanwhile so that the contours of the ground could be seen approaching with wild velocity in the screen.

  "60,000 feet!" shouted someone in despair.

  M
ullon moved vigorously and the impulse thus generated sent him flying off his feet and drove him straight through the room.

  But a second later a mighty force grasped him and slammed him to the deck. Almost knocked out, Mullon heard shouting:

  "The generator's running again! Watch out—we're landing!"

  From his angle of observation, Mullon saw the rest as though in a delirious dream. While lying on the deck he could see only an upper quadrant of the viewscreen. He was able to determine that the velocity of the approaching terrain had slowed considerably. Then everything began to turn in circles. With his head craning back on his neck he became dizzy. He heard Stokes cry out. It could have been in fright or triumph.

  At any rate, in the next moment there was a terrific sharp jolt, followed by a thunderous sound. Mullon ducked his head down because he feared the ceiling might crash in on him.

  But nothing happened. The thunder and roaring subsided and the only sound remaining was a gentle crackling in the walls as they sought to adjust themselves to the pressure of weight that now bore down upon them.

  Finally, someone quietly announced: "Gentlemen, we've arrived!"

  • • •

  And so it was a crash landing after all.

  The Adventurous would remain a derelict forever; but the auxiliary ship was intact. This was a spherical vessel, 180 feet in diameter, equipped only with an interplanetary type space-drive. Even the launching lock for this ship was still functioning.

  Half of the cargo of the Adventurous had been destroyed. Valuable machinery had been totally shattered; other equipment would have to be repaired before it could be used.

  The crash had caused a large number of people to be injured but fortunately no one had been killed.

  After the Democrats and the Nature Philosophers had united, Mullon's leading position had become recognized even by the former crewmembers. He attended to having the ship unloaded as quickly as possible. Most of the automatic loading cranes were still intact. Men, machinery and supplies moved out of the ship on wide conveyor ramps.