But her charged rods might give her the chance she needed. The magnet could be confused.
Her life depended on it. “Lord God of Hosts,” she breathed, “be with us yet.”
“Is it safe to come out now?” Yael inquired.
Melody jumped. “I forgot all about you, child! Did you enjoy the action?”
“No,” Yael admitted. “When the shooting started, and I saw that it was all-the-way real, I was so scared I just… hid. I never thought adventure would be like this.”
“I was afraid it would be like this,” Melody said. “I really didn’t have much time to get scared—but I’m terrified now.”
“That’s my terror you feel!”
Oh? That was possible, Melody realized. “Unfortunately, there is more coming. We may not survive.”
“I thought I liked adventure,” Yael said. “But when I saw what a heel that captain really was, and that magnet—”
Heel: a Solarian portion of anatomy, back of the foot or of the shoe covering that foot. That portion whose weight would fall on whatever was below. Implication: The man’s whole personality resembled the crushing force of such stepping-on, and an attitude heedless of the sensitivities of others. One who used and deceived others without regret.
“The Captain’s not a heel,” Melody said. “He is fascinated by your body and my aura, but he is the dedicated agent of a hostile power. His personal interest conflicts with his duty. He tried to bring them into alignment, and failed, so now the stronger loyalty governs.”
“Heel,” Yael repeated firmly, though her mood had changed.
“To do otherwise would make him a traitor to his galaxy.”
“Heel,” Yael said again. “Not him, now. You.”
Melody almost dropped the rod. “Me?”
“You don’t love him. You analyze him without caring. You made him make love to me thinking it was you. You took his gift of the Tarot cube, but you didn’t give anything back. You wouldn’t go with him when he asked you. You let Skot and Llume sacrifice themselves. You wouldn’t even save our segment—”
Yael halted. She was crying, and the tears coursed down Melody’s cheeks. Where was the truth?
Melody had been sorely tempted by Dash’s offer; but a combination of factors had balked her acceptance. Not least among them was the horror of accepting reprieve for her segment at the price of the rest of her galaxy. She thought she had done right, but she wasn’t sure. And how could she expect Yael to comprehend the complex weighing of values that was involved? Sometimes a principle, such as the greatest good for the greatest number, required the painful sacrifice of purely personal considerations.
She took a new rod. It resembled a wand, as in the Tarot Suit of Energy. That suit suggested life and work, while the Ten of Wands signified oppression. But this was not the tenth rod; she was dissembling. This was the fifth rod, and it signified competition and strife. How fitting!
“Oh, damn your Tarot!” Yael cried. “Don’t you have any feelings for yourself?”
And suddenly, surprising herself, Melody told her: “My personal feelings died in Sphere Mintaka when I was your age. Now I am an old neuter. I cannot love an alien male; it would destroy me.”
Yael was silent.
“We don’t have sexes in Mintaka. We reproduce by budding; any two entities joining to form the new shoot. Our sexual identity is only a convention, a convenience in dealing with other Spheres whose creatures don’t comprehend our changeability. As young entities we are neuter; as mature ones we are female until we first bud. Thereafter we are male, to one degree or another. I—lost my prospective mate, and chose never to give up my status for a lesser entity. So I am, in your terms, an old maid. Or as we put it in my culture, I have nine feet.”
“I don’t see how—”
“Don’t you understand, girl? Your female nature is protected for the duration of your life; you will always be as you are now, only older. If I mated now, not only would I be false to my lost love—I would become a male.”
“God of Hosts!” Yael cried, appalled. “I can’t believe that… but I feel its truth in your mind. You can’t—”
“I can’t love,” Melody finished simply. Temporarily numbed by her confession, she took up the sixth rod.
Now Yael was contrite. “I’m sorry. I—”
“You didn’t know. I should not have told you. I know the concept disgusts you.”
“I mean about the—the heel business. I’m frightened and mixed up and I didn’t really mean it. I really like March better than the Captain, even if he weren’t Andromedan, and—”
March—the crewman they had met on the shuttle coming in. Low Kirlian, low rank, an exile of some sort new to space, pretty much an average Solarian. Of such stuff was a girl like Yael’s ambition fashioned. Where was he now?
Yet Yael had not responded to the sex-change matter. That was answer enough. The concept did disgust her.
Armed with the six rods, Melody moved out. She headed directly for the nearest barrier. Since chance would probably determine her interception by the magnet, her best strategy was to minimize her exposure.
But just in case: She set the first rod at the entrance to the storeroom. “Ace of Wands… the beginning,” she murmured to Yael. “If Slammer passes this way, it may think I’m in this room.”
She walked rapidly down the hall, trying to keep her progress silent. Her shoes insisted on clattering. She stopped, drew them off, and tucked them into the crook of her left arm along with the five remaining rods. Now she could move quietly.
She turned a corner—and almost ran into Hath of Conquest, the first Solarian officer she had interviewed via Tarot, and found to be Hath of *.
Melody tried to bluff, hoping the man had yet learned about the events in the Captain’s office. She was still wearing her provocative clothing, fortunately. She made a little forward bow, exposing her cleavage. “Good day, sir.”
Hath hesitated. Then his hand shot out to grasp her arm. “Yael of Aura, come with me.”
He knew! Melody had one arm taken with the rods and shoes, the other captive to his strong hand. She felt helpless. She tilted back her head to look at his face…
And remembered the weapon the Imperial Outworld authorities had given her. Two tubes set within her nostrils, positioned so as not to interfere with normal breathing. She had forgotten them entirely during the fracas at the Captain’s office. Some presence of mind she had under pressure! All she had to do was wrinkle her nose and snort a gust of air, activating the mechanism…
No! Beneath the alien presence was the real Hath, the involuntary host. She could not bring herself to destroy that captive, and she could not kill the Andromedan without also killing the Solarian. Maybe that was what had blocked off her memory when the Captain exposed his Sphere—identity—though by now he might be dead anyway. Or Skot might be dead. Or both. All the skills and knowledge that had so impressed her. The real Captain might be the entity she could love, if she ever could allow it.
No, that was untrue. It was the Andromedan Dash that fascinated her, forbidden as that was. He knew Tarot and he had a charisma that the mere Solarian entity could never match; she was perversely certain of that. And it was Dash of Andromeda who had professed his love for her. Why should he have done that, had it not been true? Could she be certain that he had intended to order her death? Maybe he had been about to order Slammer to “keep Yael from leaving.” She knew now that she never could have hurt him, though her galaxy hang in the balance.
Yael’s charge against her had been false. Far better had it been true, for Melody had been on the verge of betraying her galaxy for purely personal reasons. Only her Mintakan nature had prevented it. No credit to her, for her loyalty!
But now she was captive, or virtually so. She had been so preoccupied by the threat of the magnet that she had forgotten the threat of the hostages themselves.
Her thoughts had moved explosively; it had been only a moment. “Yael… do you know how t
o fight?”
“Are you kidding?” Yael replied tremulously. “All backvine farmers can fight. And their kids too. Or they don’t grow up alive.”
“Then take over.” And Melody let slide control.
“Gee, thanks!” Yael said sarcastically. “You sure called my bluff. But I remember when a man grabbed me like this, once, and I—”
Yael’s head dropped down, then rammed forward into Hath’s stomach. The air whooshed out of the man, and he fell back, gasping, letting go of the arm. Yael stiffened that hand and sliced it into the side of his throat. He slumped against the wall, trying to grab her around the waist. Her dress began to tear. Yael shifted her weight so as to bring up her knee.
“No!” Melody cried, fathoming the girl’s intent and diving in to thwart it. “You’ll kill him!” For the knee would have smashed into the man’s face and perhaps split his head against the metal wall.
“Near killed that other man,” Yael said. “That was one time I didn’t get punished, ’cause they were saving me for—”
Melody took over and ran down the hall. She still held her rods and shoes. “You certainly do know how to fight! But we won’t catch another hostage by surprise.”
“We won’t need to. There’s the wooden tunnel.” They had made it! Slammer could not follow. Her nose-weapon would deactivate the magnet guard (maybe), and she would transfer to Imperial Outworld before the hostages knew she was gone. Then Segment Etamin could act.
She paused. How could they act? Most of the offensive might of the segment was right here in this fleet. Andromeda had evidently concentrated here, knowing that the ships could dominate the worlds of the segment. Probably the same thing was going on in every segment of the galaxy. Control the fleets, and through them the Imperial worlds, and through those the vassal-Spheres— what an efficient way to maximize the effect of comparatively few hostages! Once the fleets were captive, the planets hardly mattered. In fact, they could be virtually ignored. The Andromedan technicians would set up their energy-robbing mechanisms and start draining the galaxy, and the planets would simply disintegrate along with their suns. Or whatever it was that happened. Melody was no energy expert, but did know that life in the galaxy would be wiped out long before significant deterioration of matter occurred.
The real battle was right here. If she gave up this ship, she might as well give up the galaxy.
She turned about. “Hey!” Yael protested.
“I can’t transfer out.” Melody said. “It would leave you helpless before the hostages.”
“I never thought of that! This isn’t mattermission; I can’t go with you! I’m stuck here on this ship.”
“That’s right. We have to make our fight right here.”
“But we can’t! We’ll just get killed!”
“You fought pretty well a moment ago.”
“That’s not the same. When a man grabs me, I know what to do, one way or another. But in a long-range campaign I’d be helpless.”
Probably an accurate assessment. But Melody put the best face on it. “Not if we work together. We’ll capture the hostages one by one—and transfer them out. Then we’ll have the real officers back again. The more we do, the more help we’ll have, until we can recapture the ship.”
“Yes! Let’s go drag Hath to the transfer unit and—”
“I think it would be better to start with the Captain,” Melody said. “After we do it once, the other hostages will know what we’re up to. If we begin at the top, he can order the others to the unit before they catch on.”
“Besides which,” Yael said in that wise way of hers, “you’re worried about the Captain. You don’t want him hurt.”
“I will do what is necessary!” Melody snapped.
They turned a corner—and there at the far end of the hall hovered a magnet.
A thrill of terror ran through Melody, and she was sure it wasn’t all her host’s emotion. She set the second rod in the intersection and hurried on down the right-angle passage.
“All hands!” the ship’s wall speakers blared suddenly. “Be on alert for Solarian female Yael of Dragon. She is an aural agent who attacked the Captain. She is dangerous; do not attempt to capture her physically. Merely advise her locations; the magnets will rendezvous.”
“Oh-oh,” Yael said. “We’re in trouble already. I’m terrified.”
“So what else is new?” Melody inquired in the girl’s own vernacular. What use to continue passing the burden of fear back and forth? They had to keep functioning regardless—or die. “But my fear for my galaxy is greater than my fear for myself, so I’m blocking out as much of the emotion as I can.” She moved on… and was surprised to discover that her fear diminished. Did her rationale actually make sense?
And they met another hostage.
Acting on inspiration, she threw one of her shoes at him. The man ducked, thinking it a more formidable weapon, and tumbled to the floor. But as he fell, he bawled: “Subject spotted in inner passage, coordinates—”
Yael got to him before he finished the numerical designation. This time she swung a rod. It cracked into his head, rendering him silent.
“For someone afraid of action,” Melody remarked, “you do very well.”
“I like action,” Yael replied. “I just hate danger. Hand-to-hand I understand, but lasers and things like that are awful. And I’d sure rather fight a man than a magnet.”
“Agreed.” Confidence was being restored.
Suddenly they heard the high keening of a magnet’s swift progress. Apparently the partial coordinates had given it enough of a clue as to where they were.
The thing came around the bend. It wasn’t moving with the blinding velocity of which it was capable; it was questing, not attacking. But Melody was trapped in the hall, and could not outspeed it. The moment it came within range…
Melody threw a rod at the magnet: rod against sphere. The metal stick clattered on the deck and spun to a stop.
“What’s the third wand stand for?” Yael asked nervously. They both knew that if the ruse failed, they were done for, but the immediate horror of incipient death had been blocked out, leaving the minor distractions.
“Enterprise,” Melody said. “Strength. Cooperation.”
The magnet came close. It was not Slammer; its painted decorations differed. Melody wondered fleetingly whether the creatures objected to the indignity of such designs, as though they were mere beach balls. Probably they simply didn’t take notice.
Suddenly the magnet shot forward, then backward, over the rod. It had evidently expected something larger. Now it hovered above the rod in confusion.
“It works!” Yael cried jubilantly, and there was a sensation associated with this trifling victory wholly out of proportion to the reality. For their situation remained desperate.
“For the moment,” Melody said, relieved. “But it won’t last long. Let’s get moving.”
They moved. They had escaped a magnet—once. The luck might be short-lived—like them.
Melody started down the last passage to the Captain’s office. She had distributed two more rods strategically along the way, and had only one left.
Another magnet appeared.
It was cruising toward her at a fast clip. She started to backtrack, but she was exhausted from running and her bare feet were sore.
She hurled the last rod with all her strength. It clattered far down toward the magnet, but this time the creature paused only momentarily, then continued on. It had figured out the nature of this ruse. No hope of escaping it now.
Melody tilted back her head, squeezed her nose, and snorted. Would her secret weapon work?
Two beams speared out. One was pale yellow, the other pale blue. They converged about two body-lengths ahead of her.
She pushed at her nose with her fingers. The beams veered. Their point of convergence shot forward.
The oncoming magnet intercepted that point. The beam-light flashed purple, not green, on its surface. There was a str
ange crackle and sizzle.
The magnet exploded. Its fragments ricocheted off the walls.
Melody hunched down as shrapnel flew past her. One jagged piece of metal struck her leg. She fell forward, clutching her torn flesh as blood welled out. It hurt terribly.
Suddenly she had become much more clearly aware of the specific meaning of danger. Her host’s red blood dripping on the deck spoke with a force that matched all the rest of this adventure. This was the beginning of dying!
She had slain the magnet. But most of its remains lay jagged and smoking in the hall ahead. Her bare feet and injury made approach to the Captain’s office hazardous at the moment. And what could she do, even if she did get there? She had to crawl back toward her own cabin where she might be able to bandage herself.
Yet what a weapon she had been given! Skot’s laser had heated only one part of the surface of a magnet; this twin-beam had blasted it apart!
“Lord God of Hosts,” she moaned. “Be with us yet…”
She reached up to grasp the handholds of the wall, drawing herself erect. Hitherto these holds had been a nuisance; now they were essential! She was able to move along with fair dispatch by holding and hopping, but her wounded leg hurt with every motion and dripped more bright red blood on the floor. She was leaving a trail… of her own life-stuff.
“I’m not doing well by your body,” she told Yael apologetically. “Or by my mission. I don’t know how we’re going to save the galaxy now.”
“I don’t know either,” Yael admitted. “Oh, it hurts!” She was referring more to the leg than the galactic defeat, but Melody didn’t choose to quarrel. “Do you think we might find some way to blow up the ship? That might alert the authorities.”
“We don’t have the strength to even figure out how,” Yael said. “We’re losing blood, getting faint…”
It was true. Only an iron will kept Melody moving; iron that was already melting. She knew that her intense aura had a kind of healing property that enabled this body to continue functioning; Yael alone would have collapsed already. “Just a little time,” Melody said. “Get to cabin, bandage, rest… then we can think, plan—” She collapsed.
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