Dickinson said, “I know what you mean. I know just what you mean.”
“What’s your answer?” McGoran asked.
Dorvan gingerly lifted the cigarette to his lips. He shrugged. “Sounds fine to me. You’ve got it all figured out.”
“How about Weaver?”
“He’ll go along too.”
“Then let’s get out of here. You get the blonde indoctrinated while I talk to Weaver. He’s across the hall, you said.”
“Right across the hall.”
“No tricks, now.”
“Look, McGoran. I didn’t ask to be turned into a freak. So I’ll make everything out of it that I can.”
“Good boy!” McGoran said. “Don’t waste time.”
The P.A. system crackled and Tom recognized Dickinson’s voice. “Report to my office, Tom. Immediately. Important.”
“What’s that about?” Jennilou asked.
He shrugged. “You ready to turn in?”
He led her toward the trap door that opened onto the staircase. Out of habit he took her arm to help her so that she wouldn’t fall. But she could fall without damage. It made him slightly ill to think of it.
They parted under the floodlights and he turned toward the main offices. Jennilou walked slowly toward the wing where they all slept. She walked with her head down.
She walked up the stairs to the second floor and stopped as she heard the low voices, angry voices.
“You’re nuts! Get out of here,” Weaver said loudly.
“Keep your voice down or I’ll shut you up for good.” Jennilou frowned. She didn’t recognize the second voice. It had a dangerous sound to it.
She moved softly to where she could see. Dark figures in the dim hall. A stranger — no, not a stranger. The man from the bus. McGoran!
Another shadow behind him — stealthy. She wanted to scream.
Swirl of motion and the thick thud of fist against flesh and bone. McGoran spun and fell heavily.
As she moved closer she saw Weaver and Dorvan solemnly shaking hands. Dorvan said, “Nice going, boy. You saw me moving in and you didn’t blink an eye.”
Weaver said, “We got to keep our little group from getting a bad name.”
Shirley Sanger came out into the hall, holding a robe around her. Her eyes widened as she saw McGoran.
Dorvan looked up and saw the two of them. He said, “Hi, darling. Hello Jennilou. Look what we got.”
Shirley said in an acid tone, “You’ve got him but can you keep him? What will you tie him up with?”
“Simple,” said Stan Weaver expansively. “Every time he wiggles we pop him again. That’s work I could learn to love. He wanted the four of us to take over the government. A bunch of fancy ideas about supermen. He didn’t want you in on it, Jennilou, and he didn’t want the old lady.”
“Oh, fine!” Shirley said.
McGoran moaned. Stan Weaver said, “My turn.” He chopped McGoran on the side of the jaw with a blow that would have bent quarter inch steel plate. McGoran settled closer to the floor.
“I’ll call Tom — Dr. Bellbight,” Jennilou said. “He’s in Mr. Dickinson’s office.”
Chapter VII
Date with a Star
Dickinson drummed nervously on his desk and looked at his watch with irritation. He buzzed the girl and said, “Haven’t you located Dr. Bellbight yet?”
He forced a smile. The two men from New Mexico sat near the windows. In the four chairs drawn up close to his desk were Jennilou, Shirley, Stan Weaver and Bill Dorvan.
Dickinson cleared his throat. “Well, we’ll begin without Dr. Bellbight. Thanks to Mr. Weaver and Mr. Dorvan we took McGoran into custody ten days ago. He was placed in a cell where the walls carried a heavy enough charge of current to stun him if he touched them. It was quite obvious that McGoran was insane. Four hours ago he died of what apparently was a cerebral hemorrhage.”
Jennilou looked faintly ill. Shirley gasped. Weaver swallowed hard. Dorvan said softly, “As good a way as any.”
“Thus, of the original seven, two are dead. And Mrs. Thompson is out of our reach. Her legal talent is too... ah... fast on its feet. So there are just the four of you. Doubtless you have been puzzled by the tests that you have undergone during the past ten days.”
“To put it mildly,” said Shirley Sanger.
“Dr. Lamont and Mr. Sherman have prescribed those tests. They came here on a hunch. The hunch has paid off. Oh, there you are, Tom. Sit down. I was just getting to the tests. Want to take over?”
Bellbight nodded. He was very pale.
His voice was harsh and nervous as he said, “We have established the fact that you four can stand extremes of heat and cold far in excess of normal. On the whirl test Mr. Dorvan had the best record. He blacked out at thirty-one G’s. To the human in perfect physical condition twelve G’s usually results in serious internal injuries, temporary blindness, sometimes death. Take over, Dr. Lamont.”
Lamont stood up and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. He had an ugly, likeable face. “In New Mexico we do not publish our little triumphs. Our work is top secret. However, this is so important to us that I must divulge to you certain topsecret information.
“Fourteen months ago we put a small rocket in orbit around the earth. First practical application of atomic power for rocket propulsion. We used a booster set-up with chemical fuel to clear the atmosphere, then a hard burst of atomic drive to take the speed up to the necessary five miles per second to establish the rocket as a satellite of earth.
“Six months ago, using the same technique, we drove a rocket to the moon. That meant achieving a take-off speed of seven miles per second. Our press releases speak of achieving hundred-mile altitudes. Believe me, they are enormous understatements.
“Now we have come to a barrier. That particular barrier is the limitation on unmanned rockets. Until two weeks ago we thought it an insuperable obstacle. Take-off speed would pulp the average human. But you people could stand it.
“I have four releases here. I will not attempt to sell you anything. Frankly, we want to take the four of you to New Mexico. You’ll get no publicity. There will be no medals. I can’t promise that you’ll live through the flights.
“There will be a year of training while the rockets are under construction. If all goes well, which it probably won’t, you’ll be the first humans in space. So your choice is either to continue to exist here as sort of laboratory animals or come to New Mexico and have something to do with what I like to call mankind’s manifest destiny.”
He sat down. Jennilou said softly, “No! No, I can’t leave.”
Weaver shrugged. “Brother, once you’ve driven an interurban bus, you can stand anything. I’d like a change in routes. Get your moon transfers here. Step to the rear of the rocket, please.”
“Funny like a crutch,” Shirley said. She turned and put her hand on Bill Dorvan’s arm. “It’s a corny old line, William, but whither thou goest—”
Dorvan smiled weakly. “We’ll take two of those papers, Doc.”
“That’s what I hoped you’d say,” Shirley said softly.
Bellbight said suddenly, his voice still tense, “Before you sign you’d better know that it’s going to be more than that.”
“Shut up, Tom!” Dickinson said.
“You can’t shut me up. Listen. It isn’t going to be any little trip of a week or a month. At first, yes. But not later. And for the last little jaunt you may go so far that a lifetime won’t be long enough to make a round trip.
“You ought to know that. You ought to know that you may live out what remains of your life in the hulk of a rocket resting on some unknown world. You’ll be pioneers, certainly. But there won’t be any cakes and ale.”