His deck shoes made his progress silent in the long corridor alongside the hold. The safety doors leading into the aft compartments were closed. He went into the lock, opened the last set of doors, and stepped into the forward engine compartment. Jensen was facing him, a spatter gun pointing its flared muzzle at his chest. Behind Jensen his board showed the venting system in red. Now Dom knew that if he could look out, he’d see the contents of the hold spewing out under great pressure into space.
“What the hell, Paul?” he asked, halting in mid-stride, careful not to make a sudden move. It was the second time in recent days he’d been in front of a spatter gun.
“You’re supposed to be in the lounge,” Paul said.
“Paul, isn’t one nut on board enough?” He smiled disarmingly. “What’s your problem?”
“I rather liked you, Dom,” Jensen said, and Dom saw the preliminary tightening of Jensen’s finger as he threw himself aside, hit the floor rolling as a spatter load smacked deck and bulkhead. He took a pellet on the ankle as the gun fired a second time, and he was still moving, no pain yet to indicate a hit, as he lifted a cleaning robot and, falling away behind a console, threw the heavy robot at Jensen. Jensen lifted his gun hand to try to block the robot. It struck him a glancing blow. Dom was diving toward him, moving up and under the gun, as the robot clanged off the deck and Jensen started lowering the gun to take aim. Dom had his hand on the wrist of the gun hand as they went down.
Jensen was surprisingly strong. Once the gun exploded inches away from Dom’s ear, leaving his ear ringing with the concussion. With a climactic effort, he pinned the gun hand to the deck. Jensen landed a blow and Dom saw stars for a moment as his nose flattened and started spewing blood. Jensen pulled free, leaving the gun on the floor. Dom got to his feet. Jensen was standing by the control panel.
“Make a move, Gordon,” Jensen panted, “and the whole ship goes.” He had his hand on the manual drive control. “I’ve got the safeties bypassed. I can overload the plant and she’ll become a real bomb.”
“You’ll die with the rest of us,” Dom said.
“I don’t want anyone to die.”
“What do you want?”
“A couple of hours. Just long enough to empty the hold.”
“Why is that so damned important?” Dom asked. “Are you crazy, too?”
“Why? Because the whole system is corrupt,” Jensen said. “Because it’s time for a change.”
“You’ve blown your cover for nothing, Paul,” Dom said. “But then I’ve always thought Firsters were crazy.”
“You’re the stupid one,” Paul said. “Now listen. I don’t want to die, not now that we’re winning, but I will if necessary. I want you to walk slowly over there, pick up the gun by the barrel, and hand it to me.”
“May I say something first?”
“Make it quick.”
“Paul, I don’t give a damn if you empty the hold. Can you believe that? I couldn’t care less. I’m not about to die just to try to save a sample of Jupiter’s atmosphere. It would be interesting to analyze it, but I don’t want to die either, and especially not for scientific curiosity. So do me a favor and don’t panic, huh? Don’t do anything silly. You’re probably right when you say you’re winning. Once this ship gets back she’ll probably never go into space again. J.J. did more to kill space than all of you Firsters have done in fifty years. When you take over the country, you should give J.J. a medal. The point is, the damage is done. Let’s all go home together, huh?”
“Do as I say, then.”
“All right. I’m moving slow and easy. No tricks.” He picked up the gun and began to straighten.
“One quick move and I’ll blow her,” Jensen said.
“Yes, I know,” Dom said. “I’m moving slow.” He walked very slowly, holding the gun by its muzzle in front of him. Jensen watched nervously, licking his lips. He kept one hand on the lever which, if he really had bypassed the safeties, would send the drive into a cataclysm which would make the Kennedy into a small temporary star.
“Here it is,” he said. “Take it.” Jensen looked down, leaned slightly forward. Off balance, he’d have to make two moves to throw the level to full on. No man alive could make two moves while Dom was making one. Dom flipped the gun, caught it, and triggered it, even as Jensen saw and tried to recover. The charge took Jensen’s hand off at the wrist, the bloody stump completing the move which would have killed them all. Jensen’s mouth opened to scream. The sound began, and in his shock and pain he showed good training, for his other arm reached for the lever, almost contacted the lever before Dom’s second shot took him full in the face. There was no need for a third shot.
Dom stood for a moment, looking down to see that death was not instantaneous. The creature writhing in terminal pain no longer looked like a man.
Dom made a quick survey of the venting board. Only a fraction of the cargo had been dumped. He closed the vents and began checking to see if Jensen had really bypassed the safeties on the drive. The door opened, and Neil and J.J. rushed in.
“We’re OK,” Dom said. “Just don’t try to add power until we’ve done some repairs.”
“What happened?” Neil asked.
“He was dumping J.J.’s Jovian soup,” Dom said. “He was a Firster.”
With a cry of alarm, J.J. leaped to the venting board, checking the contents of the hold. When he saw that only a small part of the cargo was gone, he said, “I owe you again, Flash.”
“I didn’t do it to save your soup,” Dom said. “I did it because I was not about to leave my life and the lives of the others in the hands of a nut.”
“You’ll get that promotion, Flash,” J.J. said.
“Go go hell,” Dom said. “You and Art clean this up.” He indicated the body. “I’ll help Neil make repairs.”
Ellen pitched in and was not a bad hand with a tool. The work gave Dom something to take his mind off J.J.’s madness. When they were finished, several hours later, he was tired and dirty and wanted a bath and ten hours’ sleep. He was almost into the second half of the program when J.J. came in, uninvited.
“Jensen is in cold storage. There’ll be an inquiry when we get home.”
Dom nodded.
“I’ve spent some time in the galley, Flash.”
Dom sat up. J.J. extended a tray from a server which had been concealed behind him. Dom took a cup of coffee.