Yet the only way out now was past the old ship. He made his decision swiftly. "Barbousse," he yelled, "prime those torpedo tubes!"
"They're primed, Lieutenant," Barbousse declared presently.
Brim swung the scout's shattered bow toward the cruiser and sighted carefully through his target display. He set his jaw and frowned. A bad deflection, that, low and close to the disk of the planet—but it was the best he was going to get. "Here we go!" he yelled. More explosions battered the racing scout in every direction, but each time Brim fought his way back on course. As they approached, space itself seemed to catch fire with shattering detonations and radiation from the big ship's disruptors. "Ready," he yelled.
"Ready," Barbousse answered tensely.
Outside, a torrent of explosions ripped the blackness of space. Brim gritted his teeth and held a steady course while he struggled to acquire the target. He had only a single chance. Every passing tick was an eternity.
"Now," he called at last. "Fire both!"
The scout jumped as the powerful Leaguer torpedoes blasted from their tubes on either side of the ruined 60-mmi disruptor turret.
"Torpedoes running, Lieutenant," Barbousse confirmed.
"Reload!" Brim ordered, skidding to port just in time to avoid a whole string of monstrous detonations.
Powerful machinery whined and labored on either side of the deckhouse as the spare torpedoes were drawn from their storage canisters and inserted into the torpedo tubes. An eternity later, two thumps announced the task accomplished.
"They're primed, Lieutenant," Barbousse announced.
"Fire both!" Brim shouted.
Again the ship jumped.
"Torpedoes running."
By now, every disruptor on the old cruiser that could bear was in rapid fire at them. "Ready the Drive, Nik," Brim warned.
"The Drive is already on standby, Wilf," Ursis assured him. Brim judged the fast-narrowing distance carefully. Hesitated one more tick, then, "Fire it off!" he yelled.
The Drive crystal came to life at the precise instant the first two torpedoes found their target—they struck dead amidships with an immense explosion that immediately hid the middle third of the old cruiser with a roiling ball of blinding flame and radiation. And now E607 was rushing down at it with the acceleration only a Drive can provide.
"We're going to hit," Amherst shrieked over the suit channel.
A millitick later, the second two torpedoes slammed into what remained of the Leaguer's midsection—a dull glow boiling out into surrounding space until her hull opened like a rotten fruit. Her KA'PPA mast subsided slowly into the seething mass of energy, then suddenly took off in the opposite direction like a missile. Simultaneously, another glow began forward until the whole ship seemed to collapse inward in a explosion of starflame. Slowly, she rolled to starboard, her massive hull breaking raggedly into two parts at a gaping hole in her side.
Brim steered straight for the opening—he was too close and too fast for any other choice. The little scout pitched and rolled in the awesome shock waves. Then they were through to open space in less than a tick, Brim steering by instinct alone, He remembered an instant of great ruined galleries, flame, and destruction on either side—and debris. Something huge smashed past the control cabin, ripping a deep gash along the deck and opening the spare torpedo compartment like a ripe ca'amba. The Drive surged for a moment all out of control—a colossal hammer stroke smashed at the hull, then Gandom's Ve effect started and moments later they were in Hyperspace. When Brim turned in his seat, the giant wreck was only a flicker in the aft Hyperscreens, with the Drive growling raggedly beneath their feet and the generators spooling to a stop in their scarred outriggers.
"It probably looked as if we blew up with the cruiser," Theada commented in a voice still weak from excitement. "We were on our way into Hyperspace before we cleared the wreckage.
"No doubt," Ursis grumbled. "Unfortunately, whatever it was we collided with nearly did for the Drive, too." He frowned at his readouts and rubbed his jaw. "Ten thousand LightSpeed is the best speed we'll get in Hyperspace—unless of course you wish to be out of phase with time."
Brim shuddered. Everyone knew about occasional time castaways. He decided long ago he preferred death—of any kind. "Can we maintain ten thousand LightSpeed?" he asked.
"That, fortunately, poses no particular problem," the Bear replied.
Brim shrugged. "Let's go for it, then," he said. "Even a little Hysperspeed is better than none at all."
"As you say, Wilf Ansor," Ursis said. The Drive continued its uneven thunder.
Brim quickly took stock of the rest of the ship. All in all, it appeared to be in reasonably workable form, considering the treatment he'd given it during the last few metacycles. In the corner of his eye, he saw Margot remove her helmet—Barbousse was at her side in a moment. She looked at Brim through tired, bloodshot eyes, her face so drawn she was hardly recognizable.
"I-I watched that, Wilf," she said with awe in her weak voice. "I watched you. No wonder you're building such a name for yourself."
"Desperation, as usual," Brim said with a smile. "I can't do anything unless I'm in trouble."
"Oh, Wilf," Margot pouted with a tired grin, "you are impossible, aren't you?" She smiled sleepily, then her eyes closed and her head lolled onto her shoulder.
Barbousse opened her space suit at the wrist and gently counted her pulse. "She's asleep, Lieutenant,"
he asserted with a wink. "I think you've got this mission just about complete."
"Not until we get that lady aboard her pickup ship," Brim said. "But I guess I'll even be surprised if we don't pull that off pretty soon, considering what we've come through so far."
Then he turned to Amherst. "All right, Number One," he said without emotion, "now we're on our way home—as you wished. You'd better get yourself cleaned up and back in command."
E607's rendezvous with Margot's pickup ship took place only metacycles after they limped from the boundaries of the League at ten thousand LightSpeed. This time, they were not met by a lightly armed reconnaissance craft. Instead, the massive form of a heavy cruiser hove into view in what was left of the forward Hyperscreens—signaling imperiously for an immediate linkup.
After Brim matched speeds and came alongside, the ships were quickly connected by mooring beams and a brow extended from the cruiser to the scout's scarred and dented well deck. In moments, the Carescrian found himself alone with Margot in the control cabin, the others conveniently hurrying through the air lock after Ursis—who had Amherst firmly by the elbow.
Brim carefully slaved his controls to the larger ship, then slipped from the helm and made his way aft, where he bent over Margot's sleeping form and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.
She opened her tired eyes slowly—blinked—then opened her arms. In a moment, Brim embraced her. "How I've dreamed of holding you," he whispered, his heart beating out of control.
"I've dreamed of you, too, Wilf," she said breathlessly. "It got me through the bad times back there."
She trembled. "I never did that reset we talked about back at Prosperous," she said. "I couldn't."
Brim felt a thrill course through his whole body. He looked into her bloodshot eyes. "Nor did I," he said with a passion he had never before experienced. Then their lips touched, hers soft and wet against his. For a dizzy moment, the war ceased to exist—only Margot and her lips and her breath and her arms and her crazy, crazy wet lips....
Abruptly, someone was hammering on the aft Hyperscreens. Brim surfaced just in time to see Barbousse knocking gently from the well deck. Behind him, Amherst was leading a group of officers through the wreckage toward the air lock. The newcomers were dressed in elegant battle suits that clearly had never seen a battle. "We've got visitors, Margot," he warned.