The other man in uniform, who had not spokena word, pulled testing instruments from his bagand opened the cage of the dog, did some checking, and then looked up. "Dead," he said.
"Not a mark on 'em," Brenden said. "The UPeggheads will have fun trying to figure out whathit 'em."
There was a feeling of lifelessness about thecruiser. The air was beginning to stale, with thecirculators off, and that rank, heavy smell was everywhere. On the bridge all the little clicking,moving, purring things had been stilled.
Brenden ripped a panel off with his hands, jerking screws loose, to expose a fused tangle of wiring. That seemed to be the source of the heavy smell. "You'll find every piece of active wiringlooks the same as this, Pat," Brenden said. "Andthere'd be something almost as messy inside thenerve sheaths of the animals."
"Heat?" Pat asked, very much impressed, impressed to the point of being sick to his stomach tothink of that weapon being aimed at a ship with afull crew of men.
"Naw," Brenden said, "fancier than that. I callit the disrupter. Dunno why. Ain't very scientific,that name."
"Brenden, why must you try to sound like aboonie rat?" Corinne asked.
Brenden grinned. "See what I mean by sharpedges on her tongue?" He made a mock bow to hissister. "The name "disrupter"isn't scientific, butit is descriptive. When the beam hits it stops theflow of electrons instantly in any electronic equipment. Then it sort of beats them together, and this is what happens. Since there's a minute electricalcurrent flowing in the human body, zap. The heart,the brain, all of it stops at once."
Pat was silent. Corinne was looking at him musingly. Brenden saw the look and misinterpreted it. "By God," he yelled, "let's go down to the templeand have us a wedding."
"The wedding will be on Taratwo," Corinne said,with a soft smile, her eyes locked on Pat's "and itwill be
after it's all over."
"Well, it's your wedding," Brenden said. He puthis hand on Corinne's shoulder. "We're ready, little sister. It's time to get your blond supermen allpainted up in their warpaint and hold us one bigpractice drill and then go off to kick us a littlesand."
TEN
Since the Brenden preferred the comfort of hisflagship, Pat and Corinne tookSkimmer back to Dorchlunt. Corinne was beaming. The test had gone beautifully. The man she'd chosen to love was with her. She was full of dreams, and she expounded on them during the short trip. They would choose oneof the more beautiful UP planets for their ownprivate kingdom. Pat would be her coregent.
"Our people will adore us," she said. "People dolove pomp and splendor."
"I thought the idea was to bring freedom andequality to all," Pat said, with a little smile.
"Oh, of course," she said, "but there must be anauthority figure. The masses must have a leader,or anarchy is the result."
Beautiful as she was, she could not have heldher own in a freshman political discussion at the university. She paid lip service to the rights of the masses, and could weep tears for the hungry anddowntrodden that she imagined to be everywhere in the UP system, basing her opinion, obviously, on conditions under the Man's dictatorship onTaratwo, but underneath it was simple ambition.
Like most revolutionaries recorded by history, shehad great plans for tearing down a working system, almost none for improving it, assuming that once she and her brother were in power all thingswould automatically be better.
He was pleased to see that he had, apparently,gained her full trust. He landedSkimmer in theback garden and went with her to her apartment.The ship was still there as he looked over hisshoulder upon entering the temple. He began tothink of ways he could get aboard and blink to hellout of there to warn the UP to keep all ships faraway from the Brenden's fleet until someone couldcome up with a countermeasure for the disrupter.With all of the Taratwo fleet close in to the planet,he didn't think much of his chances of doing that,but he had to try something.
At the door of her apartment, she kissed him."Darling, I have so much to do. We'll be togetherforever soon, but now you'll have to excuse me."
"I'd like to useSkimmer's library," he said. "OK?"
She looked at him piercingly. "I don't want tolose you."
He laughed. "I won't try to run through thewhole fleet. Two cruisers, maybe, but not the entire fleet."
"I know I can trust you," she said.
"There's one other thing. There's a golden door.A priest told me that it was for adepts only, that Iwas barred."
"Not worth consideration," she said. "It's justthe shrine to the admiral who was in command of the colonization ship. There's a statue of him. The priests worship him, keep his uniform clean andreplace it as it decays, because he was the one who began the priesthood. He figured out the theocracywhich has kept these poor creatures docile for so long." She laughed. "It's one of those arcane littlesecrets that religious people love. Since all of theoriginal priests were sworn to secrecy as to the purpose of the theocracy, they've extended thatsecrecy to silly length." She leaned close, whispering. "The name of the fleet admiral is so sacred, so secret, that only the priesthood knows it, and it can only be pronounced within the confinesof the shrine."
"Well, I guess I can live without seeing theshrine," he said. "When will you be finished withyour work?"
"Give me at least three hours, darling. Thencome to me and we'll dine together." She stood ontiptoe to kiss him again. "Are you going to try topuzzle out all the secrets of the weapon by consulting your library?"
"Well, I'm curious, of course."
"When I have the time I'll tell you all about it,"she said. "Those old Zedeians were ingenious men.Isn't it delightful that we're going to beat themwith their own weapon?" Her face went grim. "And,oh, how I do yearn to see the faces of those menwho treated me as if I were a child, ordering meabout, forcing me to act in vehicles which I hated."
"Three hours, then," he said.
"I'll miss you," she said, starting to close thedoor.
"By the way, I think I've got the general idea ofall of it now, except for one thing. Why do youhave to depend on the Dorchlunters to fire theweapons?"
She cast an impatient glance at her timepiece,then looked into his eyes. "That's the only flaw leftin the weapon," she said. "It can be quite dangerous, turning on itself and the ship which carries it, if an attempt is made to release the energy prematurely or if one waits too long. Given time, wecould computerize the controls, but we don't have time. The Zedeians were getting extremely bothersome and suspicious. My brother knew that wecould not risk waiting any longer. But there's no need to be concerned. These people have lived fora thousand years under rigid discipline. The youngmen are taught from childhood to feel the momentof proper charge. It's not magic, it's simply a matter of day-after-day, year-after-year training to develop the awareness of the field which forms arounda disrupter. There has never been an accident witha charged weapon."
"That's good to know," he said, and then shewas gone.
It felt good to be back aboardSkimmer. He drewcoffee, seated himself at the computer console."How
have you been, old man?" he asked.
"Please repeat the instruction," the computersaid.
The old man was having trouble with his hearing again.
"Now don't sulk just because I've left you alone,"Pat said. "I want material regarding the molecular bonding energy of copper."
"Please repeat the instruction," the computersaid. Pat typed it in instead of repeating it orally.The computer gave the equivalent of a sigh, along, purring sound, and began to search its entirememory bank. Pat stopped it, gave more specificinstructions. After ten minutes he realized that theold man was in a bad way, that the ionization inhis memory chambers was worse. He checked afew individual references under atomic theory, molecular energy, just about every heading he couldthink of, and drew only blanks.