Part 3

"I hadn't counted on you, Coran," he said. The gun did not waver. "Don't reach for that gun."

* * * * *

Coran relaxed and stared at his opponent. "You look quite different without the plastic mask," he observed. Hamlin was older than he had looked in the photographs, but noticeably the same man, despite lines of strain which did not show in either picture.

Hamlin smiled wolfishly. "My pictures don't flatter me, do they? The problem is what you've done with my men. You are becoming a nuisance, Coran. I'll have to kill you, of course, but I'd like to know how you managed this switch."

Coran was playing for time. "I'll make a deal with you," he said. "I'm curious to know why you pulled that Martian plague stunt with Gerda."

Hamlin laughed. "I recognized her at once, even though she had changed since I last saw her. Ten years is a long time when you're kids, but I'd seen a picture of her since then. When I saw you with her, I knew you were up to something. I wanted to keep you away from her till I could deal with you. The rest was easy, just a little grease and aluminum powder. The doctor was scared to death...."

Gerda was staring at her brother through the space helmet. "You did know me, Ken?"

Hamlin shot her a contemptuous glance. "You little fool," he snapped. "You should never have come here. I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

Gerda cringed as if he had struck her. "We'll have plenty of time for old home week later," Hamlin went on. "Now tell me what's happened to my men, Coran. I haven't much time to waste on you."

Coran bit his lip. "I just lured them into the engine-room and tangled them up in the lofts, then blew out the lights. It was a good trick while it worked. Some of them got weeded out on the way."

"Now it's your turn, Coran," Hamlin said brutally. His finger tightened on the trigger. Gerda stood looking from one to the other with a look of anguish on her face. "Don't do it, Ken," she said, moving in front of Coran.

"Stay out of this, Gerda," Coran warned.

"I'm not kidding," Hamlin said, "if you get in my way, I'll kill both of you."

Coran struck her helmet so heavily she fell against the wall. In the same movement, he lunged at Hamlin. The blaster beam raked the ceiling, and in that confined space concussion was unbearable, even inside the space suits. Coran's blow knocked Hamlin through the doorway into the connecting tube. Coran swung about and caught up his gun.

"Don't shoot, Steve," Gerda wailed.

The shock of the first blaster discharge had loosened the magnetic grapnels which held the ships together. The pirate's craft began to drift away, tearing loose the end of the tube.

Hamlin was on his feet, trying to fire his blaster, but the charge was burned out. It only flickered feebly. He leaped the widening distance between the ships and went up the side like a spider, gripping the shell of the _Erania_ with the magnetic soles of his space-boots. Coran climbed round the doorway and went up after him, gun in hand.

Hamlin had disappeared round the curve of the hull. It was rough, dangerous work climbing round the outer shell of a space-ship. One slip meant a plunge into the awesome emptiness of the void. Gravity was practically non-existent, but the grip of the soles was slight, and only one foot could be moved at a time.

From the vantage point of his cover behind a dead rocket tube, Hamlin waited. He knew that his time was short. Off across the black gulf of space three flakes of gleaming light resolved themselves into fast patrol cruisers, racing toward the derelict _Erania_. Coran had not seen them, but came on steadily, determined to see his assignment through. Hamlin waited, gun resting on the rocket tube, hoping for a clear shot. Mad with hatred, he blamed Coran for the failure of his whole life, and was viciously resolved to take his enemy with him.

The patrol ships moved in close and warped alongside the _Aphrodite_. Men in space suits poured out of the access hatch and guns were trained on the rocket tube behind which Hamlin held out.

Sick fury possessed Hamlin. With the gesture of a trapped rat, he rammed his blaster-gun up the vents of the rocket tube. If he could ignite the remaining fuel, they would all blow to Kingdom Come in a roaring atomic holocaust.

Coran saw his intent and stood up to fire. His beam went wildly into the darkness as he lost his balance and toppled into space. Another beam whipped out from the patrol cruiser and caught Hamlin full force as he stood up to fire into the tube.

He vanished in a glittering cloud of particles, dispersed instantly by their own radiation.

Lines with magnetic grapnels looped out and snatched Coran reeling him back to the patrol ship like a grotesque fish. For three days, he lay unconscious from space-shock....

* * * * *

Back on the Moon, at Luna Station, three people were waiting for the Martian Express to take-off.

"You see, Steve, Gerda's really my daughter," Paul Jomian explained. "Her mother divorced me fifteen years ago, and a year later married Gartan Mors. She took the children, of course, and Mors raised them as his own. Gerda was young enough to conform but Ken was always wild. He took it for three or four years, then ran away to Venus. Gerda always idolized him, but really she scarcely knew him. If anyone's at fault in all this, I am the one to blame. I was a stubborn fool, and Nell could never stand my job."

Gerda offered her hand to Coran. "I hate long goodbyes," she said. "I'm sorry about everything. I--I don't really blame you for Ken's death. Goodbye, and good luck."

Steve decided it was safe to play out a fond and corny farewell. He took her hand lingeringly. "Don't worry about things, Gerda. I know how you feel. It wouldn't have worked out anyhow. Just let me know when you get the divorce. Let's break this up. I thought that I hated Mars-station, but now that I'm through with the Space Patrol, I can't wait to get back."

Paul Jomian put his arm around his daughter as they watched Coran turn and wave before climbing aboard the express cruiser. On Coran's face was the smug complacency of a man who has neatly avoided being stuck with a dame. He grinned and vanished up the gangplank. Jomian muttered something inaudibly.

"You're a sucker to let a man like Steve get away ... for any reason," he told her. "Such men are hard to find, and still harder to hook once you've found them."

"I know it," she said firmly, though tears brimmed in her eyes. "But I just couldn't love the man who'd killed my brother. I couldn't."

"That's the biggest mistake you ever made. Steve didn't want me to tell you, but he didn't shoot Ken. His beam went wild." Jomian nerved himself for an ordeal. "I killed him."

"Why didn't you tell me--_why_?" she wailed.

"I should have told you before, but I couldn't. I didn't want you to hate me, now that I'd just found you."

Gerda clung to her father fiercely. "I couldn't hate you, dad. But we mustn't let him go. I might have a chance to win him, but how can I if he's on Mars and I'm here?"

"I'm afraid that's out of our hands. Steve doesn't know it, but he's not through with the space patrol. They refused his resignation. He's just been appointed commander of the Mars-Jupiter sector. Do you think you have the guts to be a spaceman's wife?"

"I _know_ I have. But how'll I ever convince Steve? You heard him. He said it wouldn't ever work out."

"That's your problem. He's a stubborn man."

Sudden determination shone in her face. "And I'm a stubborn woman," she called back, blowing her father a kiss. She reached the gangplank just in time to grab it and be dragged up with it.

Jomian grinned. "She's my kid. I'll bet she trims his wings, the rat."