Part 2

She shrugged, a dainty movement. "You are mentally blind. You don't believe your inner senses." Her delicate face wore a frown as she groped for words. "Lodar hopes to retire on Earth, to live in peace on his ill-gotten gains. But Lodar knows he will never live to enjoy that peace." Her eyes grew large as they met his. He had the uneasy feeling as if she'd opened his mind like a book. Probably her words had overstimulated his imagination. "And you know that, too, inside of you," she ended.

"I know--"

"That Lodar will die," she completed placidly. "Better take us back to Venus."

Was the girl trying to bewitch him? Bog him down in a tangle of mystic nonsense? An air of intimacy tingled his senses. He wanted to touch the girl, to comfort her. Abruptly he stood up.

"Better think over about that promise to keep silent." He felt as if something very fragile had shattered. He was vaguely sorry about it, yet determined to stick to reality.

* * * * *

Campora was in the control room when Ray arrived. The First Mate was anxiously focussing the triangulation vernier on the magnaflux screen.

"There's a ship on our tail," he muttered. "See if you can analyze it."

Ray took over and explored the field for tensions around the black dot on the screen.

"Got an eight plate Benson Drive," he concluded at last. "It's a Company ship!"

Campora sounded a general alarm. "I told Lodar to keep off an Earth course!" he gritted.

There was a rush of feet in the corridor as the crew ran for their stations. In minutes the captain himself appeared. Lodar already knew what to expect. He brushed Campora aside after a dozen words.

"Get the gun crews set," he told him shortly.

"How about changing course?" the mate demanded sullenly.

"I know what to do!" Lodar rapped. "Get going!" His eyes narrowed angrily as he watched Campora stamp out and slam the door. Then abruptly he turned to prowl nervously from control panel to magnaflux and back again.

Ray said nothing. He was wondering alertly just how this was going to affect the girl. He hoped she'd forgotten. Under onslaught of Lodar's driving energy human lives were nothing. Even now the captain's dark eyes blazed with excitement, a savage delight in the approaching danger.

The young navigator began to plot the other ship's course. It was curving in behind them on the left. The intent was obvious; to overtake from one side and drive the _Vulcan_ into a sheering curve. It would take power to get away, lots of power!

Ray called McVane on the interphone, breathed a sigh of relief as the engineer promptly answered. "We're running into trouble. Get your teakettle going--fast," he ordered.

"Ay, ay," McVane mumbled.

"Keep awake!" Ray hissed savagely. "If we're caught now it'll mean life for us!"

"Take it easy, I'll give ye power. If need be," McVane added morosely, "enough to blow us all to hell!"

The captain was studying the magnaflux when Ray turned.

"They're cutting in." His thick finger traced a curve. The pursuer's tactics were obvious--to drive the _Vulcan_ into an ever-tightening spiral aided by his greater speed.

"Why don't they radio?" Ray glanced at the silent receiver.

"At this speed?" Lodar grunted. "No chance! There'll only be a few seconds of contact."

It was true. On any course, the two ships would flash past each other with scant time for talk. If the _Vulcan_ was an innocent trader it would haul to, if not it would travel, or surrender. There was no chance of surrender.

Lodar had too much at stake. He was carrying a fortune back to Earth. His last chance at a decent life. As for the crew, most of them were wanted by the police in half the cities of Earth. Their safety lay in the outer planets or in space.

"We'll take a chance." Ray glanced at Lodar for confirmation, then tapped the magnaflux. "They've got more power, more guns, and they'll outrun us. We've got to cut out."

"Go ahead!" Lodar nodded tensely, like a leashed hound scenting trouble. "Campora's got the gun crews ready."

Ray hadn't figured on blasting at the Company ship. He had hoped for a swift getaway. Still, this was no time for fine distinctions. After all, he had joined the _Vulcan_ of his own free will. He couldn't change his mind now. But, if he ever got out of this....

He turned to the controls, concentrating on his job.

The Benson Plates on the outer hull shifted gratingly, turning to alter the drive. The moan of the ether whorls pitched higher as the _Vulcan_ creaked to swing ponderously on a new course. It made a huge figure S curve, designed to pull it out of the threatened spiral.

In seconds the proximity alarms shrilled. As the ship cut closer to its pursuer Ray tightened the turn till the _Vulcan_ swung sharply to right. There was a rattle of sound as loose objects spilled over the decks.

The other ship was on the ordinary visiscreen now, a black streak that danced to one side of the _Vulcan_. Under his feet, Ray could feel the jarring thrust of McVane's converters, he could sense the leap of the _Vulcan_ as he closed in the last dregs of power.

But still the other ship crept closer.

Ray shook his head silently at Lodar who stood at the interphone. The captain glanced hastily at the visiscreen, turned back to his mouthpiece.

"Got the range, Campora?" He leaned forward, hawklike. "Now!" he bellowed.

The _Vulcan_ shook as the broadside was fired and the thrusting drive faltered while power surged to the weapons.

It was a miss. Lodar swore.

"Fire at will," he yelled, slamming down the phone. He hurried to the visiscreen.

* * * * *

The other ship had shifted course to follow them, though it was still abeam, still trying to drive them into a spiral. Ray swung the _Vulcan_ again, cutting dangerously close. The dot on the visiscreen swelled and centered on the beam again.

Campora's crew were firing intermittently. A shot exploded on the Company ship's hull, a spray of melted steel that flashed and was gone.

"We disabled them!" Lodar exulted.

The other ship was losing way, still holding its course, but slowing. Then they flashed by it. Ray felt relief. The other wasn't badly hurt. He'd get back to port.

And, in that moment, the Company ship blasted with all its guns. The _Vulcan_ rocked under the blow of solid energy. A vast eruption tore out a section of rear plating. The Benson Drive quit.

Then they were out of range.

Lodar was on the interphone. "Get on that damage!" he roared. "Campora, keep those guns ready. McVane! Hello, McVane!" He slammed down the instrument. "Some day I'll kill that McVane with my own hands!"

"Maybe he's hurt," Ray snapped.

Lodar grunted and picked up the phone again. "Hello, Williams, get a first aid crew out and look for casualties."

He turned to pace the floor, aroused, thirsting now for action. Up and down, up and down, as if the pent up energy flamed within him.

For the present the engagement was over. Both ships were damaged. They would drift thousands of miles apart before either could resume flight. At least the _Vulcan_ was fairly safe. And space was a vast hiding place.

"They'll never take us now," Ray said, trying to divert Lodar's ceaseless activity. The man positively burned with energy.

"Not alive, anyway!" The captain turned. "Not for their brand of justice! You know why I was cashiered from the Earth Fleet? I was an upstart. I didn't belong to the right clique. So when someone stole the club funds they refused to hold a trial. Sure, they just asked me quietly to resign so as to avoid a scandal." He ground his teeth. "I was no thief!"

"That's when my wife left me," he added flatly. "Can you expect justice from scum like that?" He glared. "Take all you can, my boy, and die like a man when the time comes!"

It was the same old story Ray had heard a dozen times, and he was sick of it. Also he was sick of Lodar's ceaseless pacing. The fight had left the man wound up like a spring!

"I'll go look things over." Ray turned to the exit without waiting for the other's approval.

The corridor was strangely silent now that the vast throb of the converters no longer boomed along it. There was a dim clatter of men working in the after section of the ship, but Ray turned to the mid-section well and slid down to the engine room.

The auxiliary generator was whining briskly, but the main converters were in bad shape. Blue, acrid smoke poured from the inspection plates, hazed in the glaring lamplight, and there was a stinging odor of extinguisher gases.

McVane was lying on the metal floor.

Ray dragged him to the well and put him on the elevator. The engineer wasn't badly hurt, only a nasty cut on the head. In the upper passage he halted Williams and several of the crew.

"Where's your first aid kit?" he demanded.

"Sorry, Sir." Williams grinned. "Captain ordered us on another job. The kit's aft."

Swearing, Ray hurried to the after section and retrieved the medical supplies. Back in the corridor, he decided to let the girl look after McVane. She might as well be of some use.

He dragged McVane to the cabin and unlocked the door.

The girl inside almost bowled him over in a frantic attempt to escape.

"Here, quiet down!" He held the struggling figure, enjoying a brief moment of her nearness. "The scrap is over. You're perfectly safe."

"I don't care about that!" the girl flamed. "What are you doing to my friends?"

"Nothing." He turned her loose reluctantly. "Here, take care of McVane." Watching her cautiously, he dragged the engineer inside.

"Let me out!" She tried to squeeze past him. "They're doing awful things!"

"Calm down." He frowned uneasily. "You look after McVane. I'll take a look at your friends."

Despite her protests he locked her in again, then impatiently hurried to the well to slide down and turn into the hold.

Six of the crew were clustered by the cage which held the Mutes.

"What--" Then he saw what had happened. The sight made him sick.

The Mutes lay in grotesque heaps. Dead. They had been rayed!

"Who ordered this?" he demanded thickly. His mouth felt dry. His stomach was tying itself into knots.

Williams' swarthy face turned his way. "Campora said it was the captain's orders." The man spat deliberately. "A damned good idea, too, unloading them!"

IV

Abruptly Ray turned and ran for the upper deck. He burst into the control room.

Lodar turned from the chart file. The captain's face was white. His eyes burned starkly.

"So--you know they're dead." His voice was expressionless. "Are they any worse off dead than in a zoo?"

"You ordered those Mutes killed!"

Lodar made a hopeless gesture. "If we're intercepted, and have to fight, we'll all be killed, including the Mutes. So we get rid of them. We're clean, we go to Earth!"

"Cold-blooded murder!" Ray gritted. "A cowardly--"

"Stop it!" Lodar's voice cracked. "They're not human. Getting hysterical won't bring them back. Forget it. We're not playing ring-around-the-rosy!"

"You'll pay for this!" Rage at his own helplessness almost gagged Ray. "When we land on Earth I'm going to have you hunted down like a dog!"

"It takes evidence to hang a man." The captain chuckled mirthlessly. "Do you think I'd willingly jettison a valuable cargo? We'll be drifting for a week, at the mercy of any patrol ship that comes along. I had to do it."

A sudden thought iced Ray's boiling emotions.

Ellenor! He'd have to watch out for the girl.

With the Mutes gone, Lodar would have to reckon with the girl.

Ray turned to the door. He had to get away from Lodar before he was tempted to shoot the man!

"You and I are through, Lodar." He tried to keep his voice steady, to bottle up his fury. He'd need all his wits to get out of this mess! His former grudge against the Company, against Earth justice, was childish and futile. He had been a brainless fool to fall for the romance, the swashbuckling air of the _Vulcan_. "I'll work with you till we land," he said through clenched teeth. "After that we're through!"

He slammed the door behind him. He wanted to get as far away from Lodar as possible, to the rear of the ship, where a repair crew was blasphemously patching the hull.

Several space-suited figures were outside, welding the plates, while others, inside, used plastic matting to save the air. Jenkins was in command.

"Where are we now, Mr. Burk?" he asked Ray.

"About halfway to Earth." Ray tried to sound normal.

"Is the captain still insisting on going ahead?"

Ray nodded, dislike of the other welling in him.

"Looky." Jenkins drew him to one side. "The men don't like the idea, see, of going to Earth. Most of us skipped out to space for a good reason, see?"

Ray nodded again, and his lips tightened impatiently. Jenkins was a bully.

"Well, sir, maybe you could persuade the captain to change his mind, huh? We don't want trouble."

"All right, I'll see." Ray started to turn away.

"Campora tried to tell the captain." Jenkins' grimy paw rested on Ray's arm, while he peered at him through his glasses. "But Lodar don't like Campora, see?"

Ray had paused despite his loathing for the man.

"Sure." Jenkins moved closer. "Campora knifed a guy just before he skipped Earth. It was his second offense. Don't let on I told you." He looked anxious. "I was just trying to help, see?"

"Yes." Ray turned away disgustedly. "I'll talk to Lodar."

He was beginning to hate every man aboard the _Vulcan_. That wasn't good. It was a sign of space hysteria. He'd have to guard against such things.

Vigilance was the only safety factor.

Stay out in space too long and you begin to brood. Worse still if you are psychologically able to stick it out long enough, you become infected with the deadly space rays that burn you up with febrile energy. Or you go batty with claustrophobia.

And they had all been out too long. They were reckless and unstable. He must get Ellenor away safely if it was the last thing he ever did.

Before the day period was over he went to see the girl, dreading to face her with the news of the Mutes' slaying. But she already knew.

"You needn't tell me." Her brown eyes were dazed with pain. "I know. They are dead."

What was there to say? That he would have saved them if he could? That he was sorry? Furious at Lodar? They were only fine words. He turned silently to the bunk where McVane lay asleep, his gray head swathed in bandages.

"He's all right," Ellenor said. "He lost a lot of blood, but I got the cook to bring some food. He ate it."

Ray turned back to her. He took her arm and led her to a chair, aware once more of that tingle of pleasure at the touch of her.

"I'll do what I can to help you," he said earnestly. "But you've got to promise Lodar that you'll keep quiet. If you don't I'm afraid he'll--"

"I'm not afraid!" Her red lips curled. She had parted the long, dark hair in two braids, which she was now tugging as if for emphasis. "If you are my friend--"

"I am," he interrupted swiftly. "God knows I'm sorry enough to be tangled up in this outfit! But it'll take more than just--"

The door opened and Lodar walked in. He glanced suspiciously at the girl, then took a look at McVane. Evidently satisfied, he straightened up.

"I saw the latch open and wondered if the girl was still safe." His dark glance rested impassively on her. "Have you decided to be sensible?"

"Sure she has," Ray said quickly.

"You can't frighten me!" The girl's dark eyes were unquailing before Lodar's. Her voice rose. "It's you who is afraid, you murderer! No matter how you strive--"

"Shut up!" Lodar said.

"You'll never see Earth!" she ended recklessly.

Lodar spun on his heels and stalked out.

"You idiot!" Ray hissed, then hurried after Lodar. She would drive the man to drastic action in spite of all effort to save her silly little neck! As he locked the door, Lodar eyed him curiously.

"Quite the spitfire, isn't she?" he remarked mildly.

Ray wondered if he meant just that or if he was covering up a consuming rage. He was still wondering about it as he uneasily went to his own cabin. Of one thing he was sure, that Lodar would save his own skin at any cost!

That thought kept him tossing on his bunk long after he'd snapped off the light. He could hear the captain's restless movements in his cabin next door. He could hear the sounds of the Number Three repair crew, his ears were straining for the hum of the converters.

There were many noises on the _Vulcan_, softer and more furtive. The stir of men off duty, the murmur of voices. Uneasy speculations.

Opposition to Lodar's course seemed a material thing, a tangible force distilled of fear. Like a cross current that moved deeply. Ray scowled at the dark ceiling of his cabin. Of course, it was only imagination. The unusual silences. The cessation of driving power on the _Vulcan_. These were playing tricks with his ears. The _Vulcan_ was drifting, slowly curving off course toward the sun.

* * * * *

McVane was supervising repairs on his machines. He had moaned about feeling sick, but Lodar had refused to listen to his pleas. For one thing, they had drifted two days now and the _Vulcan_ had inevitably expended its momentum against the solar pull. It had begun the long fall sunward. And, beside the threat of being broiled, there was the deadly danger of space rays. They would burn up a man just as surely, even though in a different way. So haste was imperative.

It might take a week to repair the main converters. The insulation was badly charred on the stator coils. Several were burned out completely. So McVane was put to work.

The rattle of chain hoists and hiss of arc welder echoed hollowly through the drifting ship. Even so, had it not been for the comforting hum of the auxiliary generator the silence would have been maddening.

Ray had avoided seeing the girl since the death of the Mutes. Probably she blamed him as much as the others for their murder, lumping him in a general category of black infamy. And how could he prove to her that he wasn't like Lodar, Campora, and the rest? Unless she could really sense thoughts, as she hinted. It seemed preposterous, yet she might have learned some such thing from the Mutes.

She might even know what Lodar was thinking! Ray grinned at that. Even now the captain was probably fuming like an angry bull.

He was eating a huge meal when Ray entered his cabin to give him a report. He continued to ladle vast quantities of hash while the young navigator outlined the progress of repairs. Finally he threw down his spoon and wiped his mouth.

"Those men are deliberately stalling on the job!" he snarled.

Ray didn't deny it. They'd both known it all along.

"If you'd change your mind about heading for Earth--" Ray stopped. The dishes jumped as Lodar banged the table.

"Give in to a bunch of lousy space scum?" Lodar glared. "I know what they're afraid of. Every one of them is a jailbird! But, by Jupiter, I'm running this ship!"

"No one is running the ship right now," Ray said coldly. "The _Vulcan_ is falling faster every minute. Our distance from the sun--"

"I'll talk to the swabs!" Lodar's jaw bulged as he pushed away his chair. "I'll beat out their brains if I have to!" He jerked open the door, then stared out. "What do you want?"

Campora was standing in the corridor. At Lodar's expression he fell back a pace, then held his ground.

"The men asked me to represent them--"

"Now, by hell!" Lodar roared. "I've had enough! Are you a First Mate or a sniveling messenger boy for the crew? Get out of my way!"

"I want to warn you--"

"Stand aside." Lodar shoved the mate back.

"Better listen to him." Ray's voice was harsh. Lodar deserved all he got, but there was no sense in stirring the _Vulcan_ to a charnal house of mob violence. He knew only too well the temper of the crew after two days of wracking tension.

"Listen to a coward like this?" Lodar sneered savagely and pointed at Campora. "He's afraid for his own hide! But he wasn't scared to stick a knife in a man's back on Earth! Oh, no! But now he's petrified at the thought of a policeman. He's stirring up the crew. He's a traitor to his rating!"

"You can't handle men when your own temper blows up!" Ray snapped. Lodar should know that. He was an ex-fleet man.

Lodar jerked round, visibly struggling for control. "I guess you're right," he admitted slowly, his first fury spent. He turned to the mate, whose sallow face and slitted eyes were full of venom. "So you're afraid of Earth and the police, the whole kit and kaboodle of you. Well, we won't land there."

Campora looked his utter disbelief.

"We'll swing a thousand miles off Earth and I'll land in the escape boat. You can go on to Mars, sell the _Vulcan_ to pay off the crew and yourself." Lodar smiled grimly. "Now get out of my way!"

As the captain strode down the corridor, Campora turned bitterly to the young navigator.

"He's lying, he's going to land on Earth. The filthy double-crosser wants to pay us off with a stolen ship, too!" Campora grabbed Ray's arms. "That escape boat is loaded with his takings. Thinks we're a bunch of suckers to let him be the big shot on dear old Earth! We'll see about that!"

"You're a fine officer!" Ray stared at the mate.

V

It was a mystery to him how Campora had ever won his position. Once upon a time he must have had a lot of ambition, because it took a lot of drive for a self-educated man like Campora to become an officer. Perhaps the struggle had soured him.

Ray knew how tough it was. He'd had to fight his way, but--He stopped in mid-thought. Actually, he was no better. They were all in the same boat!

When Ray went aft a little later he found the repair crew working furiously. Lodar paced back and forth between the two main converters, his fists clenched and eyes alert. One of the crew lay sprawled in a corner. A glance was enough. The man was dead.

Ray shrugged mentally. Lodar was within his rights, as captain, to enforce his orders even to this extent.

Nor did Lodar relax his driving vigilance one whit as the hours dragged by. He raged from crew to crew, hammering down all sign of opposition, aflame with a single purpose--to repair the ship and take it to Earth. Anger, pride, or stubbornness--it made no difference which drove him--his mind was made up.

There was no turning him now.

"I'll run the _Vulcan_ where I wish if I have to kill every man of you!" he raged.

Ray searched the crew's quarters and removed all likely weapons. He got a spare key for McVane's cabin and took it to the girl.

"Better lock yourself in," he told her. "There may be trouble!"

"I know." Her dark eyes were serious. "If you would only persuade the captain--"

"Nothing doing!" Again he felt an impulse to touch her, to hold her. He wondered if it sprang from his own mind or hers--or was he just nuts? But her smile, at least, sent a flood of warm relief coursing through him as he left.

He turned to his own cabin.

As navigator, there was nothing at present for him to do. It might be best for him to get some rest while he could. He was afraid to sleep, but long training had taught him how to cat-nap. He relaxed, keeping an ear trained for trouble.

The repair work must go on or the _Vulcan_ was lost, for the sun was perilously close. Ray had been afraid to tell the crew just how close, because the single escape ship would hold only a fraction of them.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was suddenly aware that the sound of work had ceased. Instead he could hear the quavering notes of McVane's voice, singing lugubriously. Plainly he was sad.

"_I'd give a thousand years in hell in pain To see my Nelly once again!_"

And drunk!

Ray jerked on his tunic and hurried out.

In the corridor he paused at Lodar's cabin and tried the door. It was locked. So, Lodar had gone to bed, contemptuously certain that he'd licked the crew into shape. Which meant that Campora should be in charge.