Part 2

Carol sat on the arm of Bert's chair. "I'm so happy, Bert. This makes everything complete. Nothing would have been the same without you."

Bert stared at her, then lowered his gaze. "And nothing would be the same without you, too, Carol. It has to be this way...."

She puzzled for a moment over his words, but then Miles was back and Jeff was with him.

"Come on, everybody, let's celebrate. Tonight's the night for Tanner-Berendt, and--" Miles added with a soft glance at Carol, "--the future Mrs. Berendt. Gentlemen, a toast to the bride."

They toasted.

Then Bert grinned. "Jeff, there's been a slight change in plans for blastoff at dawn. Miles and Carol are going to Deimos in the _Viking_. Sort of a wedding trip before nuptials. The ship all set for an extra passenger?"

Jeff nodded. "Certainly, Mr. Tanner. Miss Grant will find everything in order. But I thought you--"

Bert laughed again. "Oh, I'm not bowing out--afterall, the bride and groom have to have a best man, even on Deimos. That's me. I'll take the _Space Queen II_."

Carol smiled in delight. "That's a wonderful idea, isn't it, Miles?"

Miles nodded. "That would be a fine thing, Bert." He turned to Jeff. "But is the _Space Queen_ ready for flight?"

* * * * *

Jeff shrugged. "Nothing to do but set the auto-pilot. An hour's work, adding final fuel supplies. I can take care of it ok."

"Then it's decided!" Carol brightened. "Bert will be best man at our wedding on Deimos! Let's have another toast!"

They toasted. And Bert felt smugly giddy. It was perfect. The fools! With Jeff here, and everything sweetness and light, the _Viking's_ blowup would be nothing but an accident, an unexplainable accident. Bert Tanner would be in mourning for his two closest friends, and Jeff would feel a lasting guilt that somehow he had been responsible. Perfect.... And Bert felt a desire to get gloriously drunk. He walked over to the portable bar and made himself a healthy drink.

"Watch it, Bert, you'll have quite a hangover by the time you blastoff!" Carol chided him.

Bert laughed, pointing at Jeff. "So what? This is our night to celebrate. With the auto-pilot I can bring along a good book or a hangover! Right, Jeff?"

Jeff agreed and joined Bert in another drink.

Then there was the music. And Miles dancing with Carol. More music. More drinks until Bert lost count. But he didn't care. This was sweet, the toasting of a wake, the perfect crime, a sadly wonderful occasion. Music. He danced with Carol. He stared at her with clouding eyes, aching inside, a terrible pain that wouldn't be stilled by anything except another drink. He had one. And another.

Miles and Jeff talking together. Pointing at him. He laughed to himself. They were concerned over his getting drunk. They were concerned over _him_! That was a hot one. One for the books. One for another drink....

It was hot and giddy. The room was a glorious pool of laughter, savage brutal laughter inside Bert's mind. Carol, Miles. Jeff Morrow talking to them, nodding. Bert knew what they were telling Jeff. Wisps of their conversation came to him from where he half-reclined on the couch. Jeff would be his nurse-maid. Jeff would see to it that he was put aboard the _Space Queen II_ in one soggy, drunken heap. Jeff would strap him to his bunk. Good old Jeff. Good old efficient Jeff. And good old considerate and concerned Miles.... Miles who was as good as dead right now.

Music, time, liquor, they passed in a montage of fragrant clouds. Bert was aware that Carol kissed him lightly on the cheek as Jeff helped him to his feet and to the door. He was aware of Miles slapping him on the back and calling to Jeff.

"Take care of Bert, Jeff. We want him on Deimos for the contract and wedding!"

And Jeff assuring them he would. Good old Jeff.

* * * * *

Fog and pressure. Roaring sound that deafened his ears. Pressure that pushed him back, back, flattened his flesh tight against his bones. Pain in his head that wanted surcease with oblivion, but the pressure and roaring sound pushed the pain back, kept his consciousness aware, dimly, but aware.

And then the pressure began to ease. With the easing came a sobering effect to his alcohol-clouded brain. He became aware of his surroundings.

The roar and pressure. Rocket thrust to escape velocity. A space ship. It began to come clear now. No more music, no more drinks, no more smiling faces of Miles and Carol. Jeff taking him to the door.... Where then? The _Space Queen II_. Of course. Good old Jeff. Nursemaid Jeff. Bundling him off to Deimos to sign a contract and be best man at a wedding.

Consciousness returned to Bert Tanner and he laughed as he pushed against the restraining straps that held him to the grav bunk.

Wedding? There would be no wedding. The bride and groom would never show up! He laughed loud and long.

Then he stopped laughing. There was something wrong. Something he must find out about. He felt it. No, that wasn't it, he didn't _feel_ it, he _saw_ it....

This grav bunk--the control room. The _Space Queen II_. Something wrong--something....

He turned his head on the bunk and stared at the control panel. There was a confident hum from the auto-pilot, guiding the ship, carrying it into deep space with precision and infallible accuracy of timing. The control panel--_this was not the Space Queen II!_

He knew then. Incredibly, impossibly, he knew. He was in the _Viking_....

_The Viking!_

"No! No! It can't be--Jeff--what did you do--you made a mistake--this isn't the _Space Queen_--"

He sobered quickly. For he knew that he didn't have much time. A few minutes--perhaps less ... the auto-pilot--he had set it--the unbalanced fuel mixture--Miles and Carol--they should be here! _What had gone wrong?_

He struggled with the straps. The hum of the auto-pilot. The precision hum, the hum of death--death he had arranged, planned....

In an agony of time he tore the straps loose. He rolled groggily from his grav bunk. He staggered to the control panel. Time, he must beat time. _How much time did he have left?_

He fumbled at the latch controls of the auto-pilot. A minute now was all he needed. One minute to divert eternity....

The panel opened, his fingers shook as he reached for the automatic setting.

The hum grew, a click in the electronic mechanism. He knew then it was too late. He screamed. Once. Only once. That was all he had time for. A flash of light engulfed him. A roar he didn't hear. A roar that was swallowed by the vast hunger of empty space.

The _Viking_ exploded into a myriad atomic particles.

* * * * *

"You get him off all right, Jeff?"

Miles Berendt adjusted the video-screen as Jeff Morrow's face grinned back at him from the operations office on Earth. Beside Miles, Carol smiled at Jeff as she sat in the co-pilot's seat.

"Soggy, but safe, Mr. Berendt. He'll have a pleasant surprise when he wakes up and finds himself in the _Viking_ instead of the _Space Queen II_."

Miles nodded. "I know he wanted to make the trip in the _Viking_. Besides, Carol and I prefer the _Space Queen II_. Makes it sort of a sentimental journey."

Carol laughed beside him. "Thanks for everything, Jeff. We'll bring you back a piece of wedding cake wrapped in a nice fat freight contract!"

Miles broke contact then and turned to Carol. She reached out and squeezed his hand affectionately.

"I'm glad everything turned out all right with Bert...." she said.

He nodded. "Right, honey. But enough talk. Let's relax and enjoy the trip!"

And they did.