When he reached the control room and took over the. controls again, he treated the event as something which couldn’t possibly have been avoided, as a consequence of the two bouncing impacts of the buoy upon the asteroid. That would be a wholly legitimate explanation. The Patrol inquiry would accept it. As a matter of fact, he didn’t need to discuss it with Janet at all. He ignored it except as a narrow escape for both of them.
And Janet’s defensive, defiant expression gradually disappeared. She listened humbly to his technical discussions of the sidewise astrogation of checkpoint buoys, should she be needed for it during the rest of the emergency. The total time of passage through the Five Comets would be something like four hours fifteen minutes.
After that the checkpoint would still be in orbit, where it ought to be. It would be rather less than two miles from the glittering metal mountain that had sheltered it. And the checkpoint’s space call would continue to go out with mechanical tedium and regularity.
“Checkpoint Lambda. Checkpoint Lambda. Report. Report.”
The Golconda Ship arrived two days later. It had spent most of the interval listening suspiciously for sounds in space. When, at last, the tape-reels in the control room clicked repeatedly instead of reeling and whining as a log was recorded, Scott used the emergency switch and on space call frequency he opened communication. He reported, precisely, just what had happened and the state of things in Lambda. He and Janet were now the only living occupants of the buoy. He could, he observed, clear the air of the freight compartments so cargo could be put aboard by the Golconda Ship’s crew. He could cut off the artificial gravity to make that operation easier. But there were only the two of them aboard. Trans-shipment of the Golconda Ship’s cargo would have to wait for the coming of replacements for Lambda’s crew. He gave the impression that he didn’t particularly care whether the Golconda Ship made use of Lambda or not. He didn’t. It was available, but—.
So the Golconda ship presently appeared. Scott was not thrilled, either by the incredible wealth of its cargo, or by making the acquaintance of multi-multimillionaires.
A space boat came aboard, its occupants armed to the teeth. They found Scott’s account completely accurate. They were inclined to approve of Scott. It seemed to them that their treasure would be quite as safe under his guardianship as in a Patrol base. Some of them seemed to envy him. After all, a multi-millionaire didn’t lead a really normal life. He was hounded by people trying to get money out of him. Scott wasn’t. The Golconda Ship’s company had little or no adventure except a voyage once every four years to acquire more wealth to make their lives more unnatural still. Scott had had an adventure any one of them would have been glad to experience—if he only could be sure of living through it. They decided to land their treasure on Lambda and proceed as planned.
Their leader came to tell Scott of the decision. Scott was talking to Janet at the time. He’d been annoyed by the need to attend to the queries of the Golconda Ship’s crew. He and Janet were finding, continually, new things they wanted to talk to each other about. Janet’s expression was softer and more relaxed and very curiously wistful.
The leader of the Golconda Ship enterprise told Scott somewhat pompously of the decision they’d made. He considered that he conferred a great honor. In a way, he did. He felt that Scott would be made famous by his prowess and this expression of confidence by the richest men in the galaxy. And this was not untrue. But he wanted to go on and discuss details.
Presently Scott said impatiently, while Janet waited until they could talk uninterruptedly again, “That’s fine! That’s excellent! I’m sure we can work everything out. But I’m busy just now. I’ll be very much obliged to you if, just for a little while—just for a little while—you’ll go to hell.”