Louiston was about to reply when a circuit on the panel began flashing as audible alarms sounded within the control room.
“They’re here,” said McNally, silencing the alarm. “Get to your station. Make sure Claire has her belt-module activated! Yours too! And be where you’re supposed to be when I get there!” McNally smiled and grasped Louiston’s shoulder. “Don’t make me come looking for you. Remember—forty hours!”
Louiston fumbled at the small module attached to his waist, then looked back to McNally. For a moment, he hesitated, then nodded and hastily departed the control room.
McNally sat back and inhaled deeply, reaching to activate a hailing frequency. “Unidentified approaching craft, please state your purpose.”
Momentarily, a speaker crackled the reply. “Space-tractor Starduster, this is the Sector Patrol craft Valiant, Commander Stevens speaking! Lay-to and prepare for boarding! Do not attempt to flee!”
Synchronous to the transmission, a plasma blast from the Valiant shot across the bow of the Starduster. McNally chuckled, turning away from the view screen. “Valiant, please come along side. My engines are shut down and will remain so!”
***
As the Valiant closed on the Starduster, a tractor beam shot from the Patrol ship, locking the larger craft in an unbreakable grip. Then the cruiser drew closer, seeking the forward docking hatch.
On the command deck, Stevens paced nervously as the final adjustments for docking were made. When the Valiant extended its flexible boot, locking around the captured craft’s forward hatch, the senior officer turned to Lieutenant Hinderken. “Get the boarding party in motion mister,” he snapped. “Round-up everyone aboard and secure that ship! I want no mistakes! If you encounter resistance, don’t kill anyone! Especially McNally—Cranston wants him alive! Are we clear on this, mister?”
“Yes sir,” replied Hinderken, saluting smartly and leaving the control room double-time. Running towards the boarding hatch, his hand drifted to his sidearm, releasing the weapon’s safety. The stakes were high on this one. He was only too painfully aware that his career depended upon the successful completion of his mission.
***
The personnel access-hatch hissed open. McNally swiveled in his chair to face the men rushing inward, dispersing in classic military formation. The leading four soldiers fanned-out and dropped to crouching positions, their rifles leveled in preparation to answer any fire that might greet them. From behind, a dozen more men rushed into the compartment, taking up strategic defensive positions. Only then did their squad leader pass through the hatch.
McNally rose while clapping his hands briskly. All weapons in the compartment turned in his direction.
“Excellent! I am truly impressed,” said McNally, walking towards Hinderken. “If I had a crew of armed cut-throat mercenaries, I’m sure a magnificent battle would now be raging! As it is…I am alone, and offer no obstruction to your well trained boarding party!”
The Lieutenant, hand on weapon, advanced to face the solitary figure. “I presume you are Randal McNally? By the authority of the Sector Patrol, you are hereby instructed to surrender your craft and all those aboard! Your cooperation is welcome, but not necessary! Any resistance will be met with whatever force is necessary to secure this craft!”
“I am indeed Randal McNally! However, I have no resistance to offer. My craft is available to whatever inspection you wish to conduct. But there are no ‘others’ onboard!”
“Where are Doctor Samuel Louiston and Miss Cranston?” demanded Hinderken, looking around the compartment as if the two named might be hiding in a corner.
“Who? As I said, there is no one else aboard!”
Hinderken motioned to four men holding portable scanners. They activated the instruments and left to search the ship.
“They’ll find nothing,” said McNally. “Now what have I done to warrant the attention of the Sector Patrol?”
“Murder, insurrection, piracy, destruction of private property…need I go on? Edward Cranston himself has offered quite a reward for your capture; you’re a very valuable person, Mister McNally!” Hinderken chuckled and grinned broadly.
“Too bad Sector policy prohibits their officers from accepting gratuities from private sources,” taunted McNally. “At least their junior officers, anyway!”
The younger man’s smile vanished as his face hardened into what McNally thought was a good impression of a scowl. The Lieutenant turned, and in hushed tones, spoke to several soldiers. McNally quietly exhaled, forcing himself to relax. It probably wasn’t a good time to agitate these men too much. There was plenty of time for that—later.
Less than fifteen minutes passed before the scanning team returned. In puzzled explanations, they informed Lieutenant Hinderken the search had discovered no other life forms on the ship. It was evident the Lieutenant found these results as confusing as they were unsatisfactory. He eyed McNally apprehensively and spoke into his communicator. “Bring it over!”
In moments, two men entered walking on either side of an AG-sled, holding an ominous array of cylinders and wires.
McNally moved forward until stopped by raised weapons. “A thermal bomb? Do you intend to destroy my ship?”
“Not if you cooperate,” said Hinderken, extending his hand towards McNally. “your personal shield generator…if you please!”
Without hesitation, McNally unfastened his belt and handed it to the Lieutenant.
“Now your weapons! Although I can’t imagine where you hide them!”
McNally unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them to expose mechanisms attached above his wrists. These too he passed to the officer.
“Miniature plasma guns? Amazing! How do you keep from burning your hands off? The technicians will have fun with these! Who knows, they may become standard issue for the Patrol—or Cranston security!” Hinderken turned, motioning to the men with the sled. “Set up the bomb!”
In that instant, McNally dove towards the control panel.
The officer had been waiting for just such a move. Before McNally could get within arms reach of the controls, the lieutenant’s weapon discharged. The energy beam caught McNally full in the back, blasting a ragged hole through his shirt and tossing him against, and over, a chair. When McNally hit the floor, he remained motionless, acrid smoke rising from his charred back.
The nearest soldier bent over the man and checked for signs of life. “He’s alive, sir! His pulse is strong!”
The Lieutenant chuckled and shook his head. “The fool! Take him to the Valiant! Come on, let’s get the thermal charge armed so we can get out of here!”
***
When the Valiant was slightly more than one thousand kilometers distant, a panel in the Starduster’s control room flashed into activity. It covertly scanned the receding ship, monitoring for unexpected maneuvers. At ten thousand kilometers, the instruments judged the Patrol ship no longer a threat and transmitted a short-range, low frequency internal ship signal.
In a dimly lit corridor outside the engineering spaces, hydraulics hissed as a section of wall paneling slid to one side, revealing a hidden compartment. Louiston cautiously emerged, weapon in hand. When sure no one was waiting, he motioned for Claire to join him.
“Do you think they’re gone?” she asked.
“God, I hope so! Let’s get to the con. If Randal’s right, we’ve got a lot of work to do!”
CHAPTER FIVE: DOCTOR LOUISTON OPERATES
Claire quietly watched Louiston examining the thermal-device. On hands and knees, he carefully crawled around the bomb several times, inspecting every connection. Occasionally he would stop and mutter to himself as his eyes flashed over the entire unit.
“I’m beginning to worry,” Claire said, nervously shifting her weight between her small feet. “Can you disarm it. . .or should I head for an escape pod?”
“Wouldn’t do any good…they’re still in sensor range—the pod would be detected. We’re not supposed to be here, remember? Besides,
they’re expecting an explosion and we have to give them one…but not here!” Louiston reached forward and carefully disconnected one wire. “There, that takes care of the timer!”
“I don’t get it! Why didn’t they just detonate the bomb when they left? Seems like they’re going through a lot of trouble…not that I mind!”
Louiston stood and went to one of the control room’s storage lockers. Opening the door, he reached inside. “Even though that’s just a thermal-plasma bomb, the blast would take out the containment field on the ship’s main fusion reactor, not to mention the secondary! Now we’re talking thermo-nuclear! Lots of nasty atomic particles and ionizing energy that would saturate any nearby electronic circuits. They knew what they were doing!”
From the closet, Louiston removed a pressure suit and helmet. These he offered to Claire. “Here, you know how to put these on, don’t you?”
***
Edward Cranston leaned back in his chair and smiled. He liked to smile—his employees knew this and always tried their hardest to make Mister Cranston happy. “Commander Stevens, you have just made my day,” said Cranston, nodding to the image on the com-screen. “Did he give you much trouble?”
“No sir! He was wounded during the boarding, but he should recover…with a few scars.”
“I don’t think I’ll let him live…just long enough to tell me how much The Company knows of my operation. Then McNally will disappear! What about Louiston and the girl? They’re unharmed as well?”
“There were no others…we scanned the entire several ship times and found nothing! Just as McNally said.”
Cranston stopped smiling. The frown that replaced it made Stevens glance away uneasily. “Well now…it doesn’t make sense for McNally to leave them aboard knowing the ship would be destroyed. If they’re somewhere else, we’ll find them!”
“Rendezvous with the transfer ship will be in seven hours. You’ll have McNally shortly thereafter. Anything further, sir?”
Cranston folded his hands and gazed at the ceiling. “Yes! Check with your navigation boys and find out if there are any stations between McNally’s ship and the Donadio asteroid. I don’t want those two causing any more problems than they already have!”
After the transmission terminated, Cranston sat motionless for several minutes while analyzing this new information. Where could Louiston and the girl have gone? If they were on some other outpost it was unlikely they could cause much mischief. But they still needed to be taken care of. Loose ends had a nasty way of coming back to haunt the careless.
***
“Watch what you’re doing—Ow!” Claire began cursing with such passion that Louiston considered turning off his suit’s radio. She shook the fingers of her left hand as she glared at him. He knew she was glaring because he could see her face plainly through the lighted view-plate of her helmet. Claire stopped cursing abruptly, suddenly realizing what she was doing. Moments before, the hand she was shaking had been grasping the safety rail that ran along the exterior hull of the Starduster. Now she floated free—scarcely more than a meter from the ship, but hopelessly out of reach.
Getting Claire into the suit had been battle enough. When presented with the explanation that she would have to assist Louiston in moving the bomb outside and beyond the ship, Claire had made her intentions clear.
“You’re nuts! I’m not going out there! I’ve never been in vacuum! I’ve never even been in free fall! No! Forget it!”
Donning his own suit, he hurriedly told her what would happen if the Sector Patrol didn’t get their explosion. When he got to the part about being captured and returned to her stepfather, she almost leapt off the floor. The mention of him moved her into action. Louiston was surprised how fast she climbed into her pressure suit.
He assured her that once the artificial gravity was off, the sled with the bomb would be easy to move beyond the control room and outside the ship.
“I hope I don’t throw up,” was Claire’s only reply.
Much to Louiston’s relief, they had no problem getting the sled through the same access hatch that had been used by the Patrol’s boarding party. With the AG-field off and the atmosphere evacuated, Claire performed like a seasoned professional. They exited the hatch and began working their way along the ship’s hull. It was slow going, but they were still ahead of schedule.
The new clock Louiston installed blinked their remaining time. It matched the setting of the original, but this one was not wired to detonate the bomb. It would emit a signal when their time was up—so far, there was still plenty of time.
Then Claire got careless. More and more, she became engrossed with the view. The fire from thousands of stars contrasting the blackness of space drew her attention outward time and again. They had almost reached the point where they were to release the bomb, when she turned again to gaze into the void. Louiston tried shifting his weight and holding the drifting sled, and it had all but stopped when one corner managed to make contact with Claire’s left hand, wedging her fingers between its mass and the safety rail on the hull. That’s when she began to curse.
Louiston found her present situation almost comical. As he held onto the sled, Claire floated slowly away from the hull. He could imagine her panic at the helplessness of being adrift in space. In spite of himself, Louiston was surprised when Claire continued to not only appear calm, but also extremely peeved.
“All right bonehead, just how do you expect me to get back over there?” She turned, facing away from Louiston.
“Hang tight, I’ll get to you!” He checked the improvised timer—twelve minutes remaining—it was going to be close. Clamping his magnetic boots to the ship’s hull, he released the safety rail and aligned the sled. Once satisfied with the direction, Louiston started the small gyroscope he had attached. It was time for his last addition; he energized a solenoid, opening a series of valves on the exhaust nozzle of the oxygen bottle he had also mounted to the sled.
The assembly began moving, gaining speed rapidly, moving away from the Starduster. In thirty seconds, it was a several hundred meters distant and still accelerating. It was almost too easy.
Now he turned his attention back to Claire. He had to smile. There was no way Claire could have known that such mishaps were common amongst EVA workers, maintenance crews and others who had occasion to venture beyond the confines of a ship while in space. She was scarcely more than ten meters from the vessel when Louiston reached to his belt and disconnected a small cylinder hanging at his side. He held the device to his faceplate while using his other hand to key instructions onto the small controls.
“Grab the line when it comes your way!” He pointed the instrument and fired. A projectile shot to the left of Claire, behind it, a thin cable played outward. The projectile traveled fifteen meters then veered to the right, encircling her. As the miniature missile sputtered and died, Claire pulled herself towards Louiston. In moments she again clung to the side of the ship.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” asked Louiston.
“Listen to me, you no good son-of-a-bi—” The rest of Claire’s heated commentary was lost to Louiston. For with a chuckle, he quickly turned off his helmet radio.
***
Back in the control room, Louiston reenergized the AG-field and began filling the compartment with atmosphere as soon as the airlock door had sealed. He moved to the controls as pressure equalized with the rest of the ship. While he worked, Claire removed her suit.
She wanted to be mad at him, but found she could not—she had actually enjoyed the experience. Her hand had not been injured and as Louiston discovered, she had not panicked in the least. Claire watched as Louiston worked in the command chair. Since he was occupied, she came up behind him and removed his helmet. When he looked up with a thank you smile, Claire quickly bent down and gave him a small kiss.
“What’s that for?” he asked in surprise, cheeks reddening.
“To apologize for the things I called you. And giving me a chance to p
rove I could handle myself. It was quite a thrill!”
“I can assure you that was not my intention. Couldn’t do the job myself. You’re the only one around to help. But I should be the one to apologize—for laughing. But it’s always funny the first time a raw space-hand tries free-floating. Maintenance crews consider it nothing less than a necessary initiation!” He did not tell her his radio had been off—her apology had been quite pleasant.
“So now I’m one of the boys, eh?”
“Something like that! Anyway, the bomb’s gone and we can now add the finishing touches!”
Claire sat in the chair next to Louiston. “You mean we’re not done yet?”
“Hardly! Don’t forget, the Patrol will be monitoring for a thermo-nuclear explosion. That little firecracker out there isn’t enough!”
“I don’t suppose Mr. McNally has an atomic arsenal on board?” She could see Louiston was enjoying this.
“It just so happens he does! McNally already had everything set up and briefed me before the Sector Patrol arrived. I tell you, McNally always seems to know what’s going to happen—just like he planned it all along, although I can’t see how that’s possible! It’s spooky. But we do have one tiny problem!”
“I just can’t wait to hear this,” said Claire as she rolled her eyes in exaggerated frustration. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to lug a nuke outside.”
Louiston laughed. “Nothing like that! The missile I’m supposed to use has a five-megaton warhead that should be detonated within a hundred meters of the thermal device…if we’re going to fool the Patrol.”
Claire knew she was missing something obvious. “All right, I give up. What’s the problem? I know that between you and this ship’s computers that distance shouldn’t be any problem!”
As Louiston made adjustments at the controls, the ship shuddered slightly. He turned to Claire and folded his hands behind his head. “Accuracy isn’t the issue! To avoid structural damage and massive electronics failure, we really should be at least six or seven thousand kilometers from ground zero—so to speak.”
The Last Load Page 4
