"Smith, E E 'Doc' - Lensman 07 - Masters Of The Vortex" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

It is not necessary to go into the details of the imprisonment. Doggedly and skillfully though he tried, Ryder could open up no avenue of escape or of communication; and Jacqueline, facing the inevitability of death, steadied down to meet it. She was a woman. In minor crises she had shrieked and had hidden her face and had fainted: but in this ultimate one she drew from the depths of her woman's soul not only the power to overcome her own weakness, but also an extra something with which to sustain and fortify her man.
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4: 'Storm' Cloud on Deka
In the vortex control laboratory on Tellus, Cloud had just gone into Philip Strong's office.
'No trouble?' the Lensman asked, after greetings had been exchanged.
'Uh-huh. Simple as blowing out a match. You quit worrying about me long ago, didn't you?"
'Pretty much, except for the impossibility of training anybody else to do it. We're still working on that angle, though. You're looking fit.'
He was. He carried no scars-the Phillips treatment had taken care of that. His face looked young and keen; his hard-schooled, resilient body was in surprisingly fine condition for that of a , man crowding forty so nearly. He no longer wore his psychic trauma visibly; it no longer obtruded itself between him and those with whom he worked; but in his own mind he was sure that it still was, and always would be, there. But the Lensman, studying him narrowly-and, if the truth must be known, using his Lens as well-was not sure, and was well content.
'Not bad for an old man, Phil. I could whip a wildcat, and spot him one bite and two scratches. But what I came in here for, as you may have suspected, is-where do I go from here? Spica or Rigel or Canopus? They're the worst, aren't they?'
'Rigel's is probably the worst in property damage and urgency. Before we decide, though, I wish you'd take a good look at this data from Dekanore III. See if you see what I do.'
'Huh? Dekanore III?' Cloud was surprised. 'No trouble there, is there? They've only got one, and it's 'way down in Class Z somewhere.'
'Two now. It's the new one I'm talking about. It's acting funny-damned funny.'
Cloud went through the data, brow furrowed in concentration; then sketched three charts and frowned,
'I see what you mean. "Damned funny" is right. The toxicity is too steady, but at the same time the composition of the effluvium is too varied. Inconsistent. However, there's no real attempt at a gamma analysis-nowhere near enough data for one-this could be right; they're so utterly unpredictable. The
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observers were inexperienced, I take it, with medical and chemical bias?"
'Check. That's the way I read it.'
'Well, I'll say this much-I never saw a gamma chart that would accept half of this stuff, and I can't even imagine what the sigma curve would look like. Boss, what say I skip over there and get us a full reading on that baby before she goes orthodox -or, should I say, orthodoxly unorthodox?'
'However you say it, that's my thought exactly; and we have a good exuse for giving it priority. It's killing more people than all three of the bad ones together.'
'If I can't fix the toxicity with exciters I'll throw a solid cordon around it to keep people away. I won't blow it out, though, until I find out why it's acting so-if it is. Clear ether, chief, I'm practically there!'
It did not take long to load Cloud's flitter aboard a Dekanore-bound liner. Half-way there however, an alarm rang out and the dread word 'Pirates!' resounded through the ship.
Consternation reigned, for organized piracy had disappeared with the fall of the Council of Boskone. Furthermore, this was not in any sense a treasure ship; she was an ordinary passenger liner.
She had had little enough warning-her communications officer had sent out only a part of his first distress call when the blanketing interference jammed his channels. The pirate- a first-class superdreadnought-flashed up and a visual beam drove in.
'Go inert,' came the terse command. 'We're coming aboard.'
'Are you completely crazy?' The liner's captain was surprised and disgusted, rather than alarmed. 'If not, you've got the wrong ship. Everything aboard-including any ransom you could get for our passenger list-wouldn't pay your expenses."
'You wouldn't know, of course, that you're carrying a package of Lonabarian jewelry, or would you?' The question was elaborately skeptical.
'I know damned well I'm not.'
'We'll take the package you haven't got, then!' the pirate
snapped. 'Go inert and open up, or I'll do it for you-like this.'
A needle-beam lashed out and expired. 'That was through one
of your holds. The next one will be through your control room.'
Resistance being out of the question, the liner went inert.
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While the intrinsic velocities of the two vessels were being matched, the pirate issued further instructions.
'All officers now in the control room, stay there. All other officers, round up all passengers and herd them into the main saloon. Anybody that acts up or doesn't do exactly what he's told will be blasted.'
The pirates boarded. One squad went to the control room. Its leader, seeing that the communications officer was still trying to drive a call through the blanket of interference, beamed him down without a word. At this murder the captain and four or five other officers went for their guns and there was a brief but bloody battle. There were too many pirates.
A larger group invaded the main saloon. Most of them went through, only half a dozen or so posting themselves to guard the passengers. One of the guards, a hook-nosed individual wearing consciously an aura of authority, spoke.
'Take it easy, folks, and nobody'll get hurt. If any of you've got guns, don't go for 'em. That's a specialty that...'
One of his DeLameters flamed briefly. Cloud's right arm, almost to the shoulder, vanished. The man behind him dropped- in two different places.
'Take it easy, I said,' the pirate chief went calmly on. 'You can tie that arm up, fella, if you want to. It was in line with that guy who was trying to pull a gun. You nurse over there-take him to sick-bay and fix up his wing. If anybody stops you tell 'em Number One said to. Now, the rest of you, watch your step. I'll cut down every damn one of you that so much as looks like he wanted to start something.' They obeyed.
In a few minutes the looting parties returned to the saloon. 'Did you get it, Six?' 'Yeah. In the mail, like you said.' 'The safe?'
'Sure. Wasn't much in it, but not too bad, at that.' 'QX. Control room! QX?'
'Ten dead,' the intercom blatted in reply. 'Otherwise QX.' 'Fuse the panels?' 'Natch.' 'Let's go!'
They went. Their vessel flashed away. The passengers rushed to their staterooms. Then:
'Doctor Cloud!' came from the speaker. 'Doctor Neal Cloud! Control room calling Doctor Cloud!' 'Cloud speaking.'
'Report to the control room, please." ,
'Oh-excuse me-I didn't know you were wounded,' the officer apologized as he saw the bandaged stump and the white, sweating face. 'You'd better go to bed.' 'Doing nothing wouldn't help. What did you want me for?' 'Do you know anything about communicators?' 'A little-what a nucleonics man has to know.' 'Good. They killed all our communications officers and blasted the panels, even in the lifeboats. You can't do much with your left hand, of course, but you may be able to boss the job of rigging up a spare.'
'I can do more than you think-I'm left-handed. Give me a couple of technicians and I'll see what we can do."
They set to work, but before they could accomplish anything a cruiser drove up, flashing its identification as a warship of the Galactic Patrol.
'We picked up the partial call you got off," its young commander said, briskly. 'With that and the plotted center of interference we didn't lose any time: Let's make this snappy.' He was itching to be off after the marauder, but he could not leave until he had ascertained the facts and had been given clearance. 'You aren't hurt much-don't need to call a tug, do you?' 'No,' replied the liner's senior surviving officer. 'QX,' and a quick investigation followed. 'Anybody who ships stuff like that open mail ought to lose it, but it's tough on innocent bystanders. Anything else I can do for you?'