Gordon and the big Antarian, with Verlin, the young communication officer, joined him and plunged into the crazy fight.
They got through, but left big Hull Burrel battling a knot of spacemen back in the mob.
Val Marlann yelled into the annunciator switchboard. "Captain Marlann to all hands! Cease fighting! The announcement of mutiny was a fake, a trick! Obey me!"
Verlin grabbed Gordon's arm as a distant whine of power reached their ears over the din.
"That's the stereo-transmitter going!" the young communication officer cried to Gordon. "Corbulo must be calling for help from the other ships of the fleet!"
"We've got to stop that!" Gordon cried. "Lead the way!"
They raced forward along a corridor, then cross-ship and up a companionway to the top deck.
Val Marlann's orders thundering from the annunciators seemed to be rapidly quieting the uproar in the ship. Its crew knew his voice better than any other. Long habit brought them to obey.
Verlin and Gordon plunged into a big, crowded stereo-room whose tubes and motor-generators were humming. Two bewildered-looking technicians were at the control panel.
Chan Corbulo, an atom-pistol gripped in his hand, stood on the transmitter-plate speaking loudly and rapidly.
"I command all nearby battleships to send boarding parties aboard the Ethne at once to restore order! You will arrest-"
Corbulo, from the tail of his eye, saw the two men burst into the room. He swung swiftly around and triggered his pistol.
The pellet that flew from it was aimed at Gordon. But Verlin, plunging ahead, took it full in his breast.
Gordon tripped headlong over the falling body of the young Earthman. That stumble made Corbulo's quick second shot flick just over Gordon's head.
As he fell, Gordon had hurled himself forward. He tackled Corbulo's knees and brought him crashing to the floor.
The two technicians ran forward and hauled Gordon off the Commander. But their grip on him relaxed when they glimpsed his face.
"Good God, it's Prince Zarth Arn!" one of them cried.
Instinctive respect for the ruling house of the Empire confused the two men. Gordon wrenched free from them and grabbed for the pistol in Verlin's holster.
Corbulo had regained his feet, on the other side of the room. He was again raising his weapon.
"You'll never go to Throon!" he roared. "By-"
Gordon shot, from where he crouched on the floor. The atomic pellet, loosed more by guess than by aim, hit Corbulo's neck and exploded. It flung him backwards as though a giant hand had hit him.
Val Marlann and Hull Burrel came bursting into the stereo-room with other officers. The whole great ship seemed suddenly quiet.
Marlann bent over Corbulo's blasted body. "Dead!"
Hull Burrell, panting, his face flaming, told Gordon grimly, "We've killed our Commander. God help us if your story is not true, Prince Zarth!"
"It's true-and Corbulo was only one of a score of traitors in Shorr Kan's hire," Gordon husked, shaken with reaction. "I'll prove it all at Throon."
The image of a dark, towering Centaurian battleship captain suddenly appeared on the receiver-plate of the stereo.
"Vice-Commander Ron Giron calling from the Shaar! What the devil is going on aboard the Ethne? We're coming alongside to board you as Commander Corbulo ordered."
"No one will board this ship!" Val Marlann answered swiftly. "We're going at once to Throon."
"What does this mean?" roared the vice-commander. "Let me speak to Commander Corbulo himself!"
"You can't-he's dead," clipped Hull Burrel. "He was betraying the fleet to the Cloud. At Throon, we'll prove that."
"It is mutiny, then?" cried Ron Giron. "You'll stand by for boarding parties and consider yourselves under arrest, or we'll open fire!"
"If you fire on the Ethne, you'll destroy the Empire's only chance to foil Shorr Kan's plot!" cried Val Marlann. "We've staked our lives on the truth of what Prince Zarth Arn has told us, and we're taking him to Throon."
John Gordon himself stepped forward to make an appeal to the glaring vice-commander.
"Commander Giron, they're telling you the truth! Give us this chance to save the Empire from disaster!"
Giron hesitated. "This is all insane! Corbulo dead and accused of treachery, Zarth Arn returned-"
He seemed to reach decision. "It's beyond me but they can sift it at Throon. To make sure that you go there, four battleships will escort the Ethne. They'll have orders to blast you if you try to go anywhere but Throon!"
"That's all we ask!" Gordon cried. "One more word of warning! A League attack may come at any time now. I know it is coming, and soon."
Commander Giron's towering figure stiffened. "The devil you say! But we've already taken all possible dispositions. I'll call the Emperor and report all this to him."
The image disappeared. Through the portholes, they saw four big battleships move up and take positions on either side of the Ethne.
"We start for Throon at once," Val Marlann said swiftly. "I'll give the orders."
As the officer hurried out, and annunciators and bells started buzzing through the ship, Gordon asked a question.
"Am I to consider myself still a prisoner?"
"Blazes, no!" Hull Burrel exclaimed. "If you've told us the truth, there's no reason to keep you a prisoner. If you haven't told the truth, then we're due for court-martial and execution anyway!"
Gordon found Lianna in the corridor, hurrying in search of him. He told her rapidly what had happened.
"Corbulo dead? One great danger removed!" she exclaimed. "But Zarth, now our lives and the Empire's fate depend on whether we can prove to your brother that our story is true!"
At that moment the mighty Ethne began to move ponderously through the void, as its great turbines roared loud.
In a few minutes, the big battleship and its four grim escorts were hurtling headlong across the starry spaces toward Throon.
22: Galactic Crisis
Huge, glaring white Canopus flared in the star-sown heavens in blinding splendor, as the five great battleships rushed toward it at rapidly decreasing speed.
Once again, John Gordon looked from a ship's bridge at the glorious capital sun of the Empire and its green, lovely world. But how much had happened since first he had come to Throon!
"We dock at Throon City in two hours," Hull Burrel was saying. And he added grimly, "There'll be a reception committee waiting for us. Your brother has been advised of our coming."
"All I ask is a chance to prove my story to Jhal," declared Gordon, "I'm sure I can convince him."
But, inwardly, he had a sickening feeling that he was not entirely sure. It all depended on one man, and on whether Gordon had correctly judged that man's reactions.
All the hours and days of the headlong homeward flight across the Empire, Gordon had been tortured by that haunting doubt. He had slept but little, had scarcely eaten, consumed by growing tension.
He must convince Jhal Arn! Once that was done, once the last traitor was rooted out, then the Empire would be ready to meet the Cloud's attack. His, John Gordon's, duty would be fulfilled and he could return to Earth for his re-exchange of bodies with the real Zarth Arn. And the real Zarth could come back to help defend the Empire.
But Gordon felt an agony of spirit every time he thought of that re-exchange of bodies. For on that day when he returned to his own time, he would be leaving Lianna forever.
Lianna came into the wide bridge as he thought of her. She stood beside him with her slim fingers clasping his hand encouragingly as they looked ahead.
"Your brother will believe you, Zarth-I know he will."
"Not without proof," Gordon muttered. "And only one man can prove my story. Everything hinges on whether or not he has heard of Corbulo's death and my return, and has fled."
That tormenting uncertainty deepened in him as the five big battleships swung down toward Throon City.
It was night in the capital. Un
der the light of two hurtling moons glimmered the fairylike glass mountains and the silver sea. The shimmering towers of the city rose boldly in the soft glow, a pattern of lacy light.
The ships landed ponderously in docks of the naval spaceport. Gordon and Lianna, with Hull Burrel and Captain Val Marlann, emerged from the Ethne to be met by a solid mass of armed guards.
Two officers walked toward them, and with them came Orth Bodmer, the Chief Councilor Bodmer's thin face was lined with deep worry as he confronted Gordon.
"Highness, this is a sorry homecoming!" he faltered. "God send you can prove your innocence!"
"Jhal Arn has kept our return and what happened out there off the Pleiades, a secret?" Gordon asked quickly.
Orth Bodmer nodded. "His Highness is waiting for you now. We are to go at once to the palace by tubeway. I must warn you that these guards have orders to kill instantly if any of you attempt resistance."
They were swiftly searched for weapons, and then led toward the tubeway. Guards entered the cars with them. They had seen no one else, the whole spaceport having been cleared and barred off.
It seemed a dream to John Gordon as they whirled through the tubeway. Too much had happened to him, in too short a time. The mind couldn't stand it. But Lianna's warm clasp of his hand remained a link with reality, nerving him for this ordeal.
In the great palace of Throon, they went up through emptied corridors to the study in which Gordon had first confronted Arn Abbas.
Jhal Arn sat now behind the desk, his handsome face a worn mask. His eyes were utterly cold and expressionless as they swept over Gordon and Lianna and the two space-captains, "Have the guards remain outside, Bodmer," he ordered the Councilor in a toneless voice.
Orth Bodmer hesitated. "The prisoners have no weapons. Yet perhaps-"
"Do as I order," rasped Jhal Arn. "I have weapons here. There's no fear of my brother being able to murder me."
The nervous Chief Councilor and the guards went out and closed the door.
Gordon was feeling a hot resentment that burned away all that numb feeling of unreality.
He strode a step forward. "Is this the kind of justice you're going to deal the Empire?" he blazed at Jhal Arn. "The kind of justice that condemns a man before he's heard?"
"Heard? Man, you were seen, murdering our father!" cried Jhal Arn, rising. "Corbulo saw you, and now you've killed Corbulo too!"
"Jhal Arn, it is not so!" cried Lianna. "You must listen to Zarth!."
Jhal Arn turned somber eyes on her. "Lianna, I have no blame for you. You love Zarth and let him lead you into this. But as for him, the studious, scholarly brother I once loved, the brother who was plotting all the time for power, who struck our father down-"
"Will you listen?" cried Gordon furiously. "You stand there mouthing accusations without giving me a chance to answer them!"
"I have heard your answers already," rasped Jhal Arn. "Vice-Commander Giron told me when he reported your coming that you were accusing Corbulo of treachery to cover up your own black crimes."
"I can prove that if you'll just give me a chance!" Gordon declared.
"What proof can you advance?" retorted the other. "What proof, that will outweigh the damning evidence of your flight, of Corbulo's testimony, of Shorr Kan's secret messages to you?"
Gordon knew that he had come to the crux of the situation, the crisis upon which he would stand or fall.
He talked hoarsely, telling of Corbulo's treacherous assistance in helping Lianna and him escape, of how that escape had been timed exactly with the assassination of Arn Abbas.
"It was to make it look as though I'd committed the murder and fled!" Gordon emphasized. "Corbulo himself struck down our father and then said he'd seen me do it, knowing I wasn't there to deny the charge!"
He narrated swiftly how the Sirian traitor captain had taken him and Lianna to the Cloud, and briefly summarized the way in which he had induced Shorr Kan, by pretending to join him, to allow him to go to Earth. He did not, could not, tell how his ruse had hinged on the fact that he was really not Zarth Arn at all. He couldn't tell that.
Gordon finished his swift story, and saw that the black cloud of bitter disbelief still rested on Jhal Arn's face.
"The story is too fantastic! And it has nothing to prove it but your word and the word of this girl who's in love with you. You said you could prove your tale!"
"I can prove it, if I'm given a chance," Gordon said earnestly.
He continued swiftly. "Jhal, Corbulo was not the only traitor in high position in the Empire. Shorr Kan himself told me there were a score of such traitors, though he didn't name them.
"But one traitor I know to be such is Them Eldred, the Sirian naval captain who took us to the Cloud! He can prove it all, if I can make him talk!"
Jhal Arn frowned at Gordon for a moment. Then he touched a stud and spoke into a panel on the desk.
"Naval Headquarters? The Emperor speaking. There is a captain in our forces named Them Eldred, a Sirian. Find out if he's on Throon. If he is, send him here immediately under guard."
Gordon grew tense as they waited. If the Sirian were away in space, if he had somehow heard of events and had fled-
Then a sharp voice finally came from the panel. "Them Eldred has been found here. His cruiser has just returned from patrol. He is being sent to you now."
A half-hour later the door opened and Them Eldred stepped inside. The Sirian had a wondering look on his hardbitten greenish face. Then his eyes fell on Gordon and Lianna.
"Zarth Arn!" he exclaimed, startled, recoiling. His hand went to his belt, but he had been disarmed.
"Surprised to see us?" Gordon rasped. "You thought we were still in the Cloud where you left us, didn't you?"
Them Eldred had instantly recovered his self-possession. He looked at Gordon with assumed perplexity.
"I don't understand what you mean, about the Cloud!"
Jhal Arn spoke curtly. "Zarth claims that you took him and Lianna by force to Thallarna. He accuses you of being a traitor to the Empire, of plotting with Shorr Kan."
The Sirian's face stiffened in admirably assumed anger.
"It's a lie! Why, I haven't seen Prince Zarth Arn and the princess since the Feast of Moons!"
Jhal Arn looked harshly at Gordon, "You said you could prove your claim, Zarth. So far, it's only your word against his."
Lianna broke in passionately. "Is my word nothing, then? Is a Princess of Fomalhaut to be believed a liar?"
Again, Jhal Arn looked at her somberly, "Lianna, I know you would lie for Zarth Arn, if for nothing else in the universe."
Gordon had expected the Sirian's denial. And he was counting on his estimate of this man's character to get the truth out of him.
He stepped forward to confront the man. He kept his passionate anger restrained, and spoke deliberately.
"Them Eldred, the game is up. Corbulo is dead, the whole plot with Shorr Kan is about to be exposed. You haven't a chance to keep your guilt hidden, and when it's exposed it'll mean execution for you."
As the Sirian started to protest, Gordon continued swiftly, "I know what you're thinking! You think that if you stick to your denials you can face me down, that that's your only chance now to save your skin. But it won't work, Them Eldred!
"The reason it won't work is because your cruiser, the Markab, had a full crew in it when it took us to the Cloud. I know those officers and men had been bribed to support you, that they'll deny ever going to the Cloud. They'll deny it, at first. But when pressure is put on them, there's bound to be at least one weak one among them who'll confess to save himself!"
Now, for the first time, Gordon saw doubt creep into the Sirian's eyes. Yet Them Eldred angrily shook his head.
"You're still talking nonsense, Prince Zarth! If you want to question my men in the Markab, go ahead. Their testimony will show that you're not telling the truth."
Gordon pressed his attack, his voice ringing now. "Them Eldred, you can't bluff it out! You know o
ne of them will talk! And when he does, it's execution for you.
"There's only one way you can save yourself. That's to turn evidence against the other officials and officers in this plot with you, the others who have been working for Shorr Kan. Give us their names, and you'll be allowed to go scot-free out of the Empire!"
Jhal Arn sternly interrupted. "I'll sanction no such terms! If this man is a traitor, he'll suffer the penalty."
Gordon turned passionately to him. "Jhal, listen! He deserves death for his treachery. But which is most important-that he be punished, or that the Empire be saved from disaster?"
The argument swayed Jhal Arn. He frowned silently for a moment, and then spoke slowly.
"Very well, I'll agree to let him go free if he does make any such confession and names his confederates."
Gordon swung back to the Sirian. "Your last chance, Them Eldred! You can save yourself now, or never!"
He saw the indecision in Them Eldred's eyes. He was staking everything on the fact that this Sirian was a ruthless realist, ambitious, selfish, with no real loyalty to anyone but himself.
And Gordon's gamble won. Confronted by the imminence of discovery, presented with a loophole by which he might save his own skin, Them Eldred's defiant denials broke down.
He spoke huskily. "I have the Emperor's word that I am to go scot-free, remember?"
"Then you were in a plot?" raged Jhal Arn. "But I'll keep my word. You'll go free if you name your confederates, as soon as we have seized them and verified what you tell."
Them Eldred was ghastly pale but tried to smile. "I know when I'm in a trap, and I'm cursed if I'll get myself killed just for loyalty to Shorr Kan. He wouldn't do it for me!"
He went on, to Jhal Arn. "Prince Zarth has told the truth. Chan Corbulo was leader of the little clique of officials who planned to betray the Empire to the Cloud. Corbulo killed Arn Abbas, and had me carry off Zarth and Lianna so they'd be blamed. Everything the prince has said is true."
Gordon felt his eyes blur, his shoulders sag, as those words brought shaky relief from his intolerable strain of many days.
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