One day this odd fleet landed among the space cradles, killed and imprisoned the Terran and Martian guards, and proclaimed that Ganymede and the cradles were their property. If the Senate wanted to use the cradles they paid, and paid plenty. Twenty per cent of all freighted goods turned over to the Gany Emperor, left on the moon. And full Senate representation.
If the Senate fleet tried to take back the cradles by force the cradles would be destroyed. The Ganymedeans had already mined them with H-bombs. The Gany fleet surrounded the moon, a little ring of hard steel. If the Senate fleet tried to break through, seize the moon, it would be the end of the cradles. What could the System do?
And at Proxima, the colonies were starving.
“You’re certain we can’t launch ships into deep-space from regular fields,” a Martian Senator asked.
“Only Class-One ships have any chance to reach the colonies,” Commander James Carmichel said wearily. “A Class-One ship is ten times the size of a regular intra-system ship. A Class-One ship needs a cradle miles deep. Miles wide. You can’t launch a ship that size from a meadow.”
There was silence. The great Senate chambers were full, crowded to capacity with representatives from all the nine planets.
“The Proxima colonies won’t last another twenty days,” Doctor Basset testified. “That means we must get a ship on the way sometime next week. Otherwise, when we do get there we won’t find anyone alive.”
“When will the new Luna cradles be ready?”
“A month,” Carmichel answered.
“No sooner?”
“No.”
“Then apparently we’ll have to accept Ganymede’s terms.” The Senate Leader snorted with disgust. “Nine planets and one wretched little moon! How dare they want equal voice with the System members!”
“We could break their ring,” Carmichel said, “but they’ll destroy the cradles without hesitation if we do.”
“If only we could get supplies to the colonies without using space cradles,” a Plutonian Senator said.
“That would mean without using Class-One ships.”
“And nothing else will reach Proxima?”
“Nothing that we know of.”
A Saturnian Senator arose. “Commander, what kind of ships does Ganymede use? They’re different from your own?”
“Yes. But no one knows anything about them.”
“How are they launched?”
Carmichel shrugged. “The usual way. From fields.”
“Do you think—”
“I don’t think they’re deep-space ships. We’re beginning to grasp at straws. There simply is no ship large enough to cross deep-space that doesn’t require a space cradle. That’s the fact we must accept.”
The Senate Leader stirred. “A motion is already before the Senate that we accept the proposal of the Ganymedeans and conclude the war. Shall we take the vote, or are there any more questions?”
No one blinked his light.
“Then we’ll begin. Mercury. What is the vote of the First Planet?”
“Mercury votes to accept the enemy’s terms.”
“Venus. What does Venus vote?”
“Venus votes—”
“Wait!” Commander Carmichel stood up suddenly. The Senate Leader raised his hand.
“What is it? The Senate is voting.”
Carmichel gazed down intently at a foil strip that had been shot to him across the chamber, from the chart wing. “I don’t know how important this is, but I think perhaps the Senate should know about it before it votes.”
“What is it?”
“I have a message from the first line. A Martian raider has surprised and captured a Gany Research Station, on an asteroid between Mars and Jupiter. A large quantity of Gany equipment has been taken intact.” Carmichel looked around the hall. “Including a Gany ship, a new ship, undergoing tests at the Station. The Gany staff was destroyed, but the prize ship is undamaged. The raider is bringing it here so it can be examined by our experts.”
A murmur broke through the chamber.
“I put forth a motion that we withhold our decision until the Ganymedean ship has been examined,” a Uranian Senator shouted. “Something might come of this!”
“The Ganymedeans have put a lot of energy into designing ships,” Carmichel murmured to the Senate Leader. “Their ships are strange. Quite different from ours. Maybe…”
“What is the vote on this motion?” the Senate Leader asked. “Shall we wait until this ship can be examined?”
“Let’s wait!” voices cried. “Wait! Let’s see.”
Carmichel rubbed his paw thoughtfully. “It’s worth a try. But if nothing comes of this we’ll have to go ahead and capitulate.” He folded up the foil strip. “Anyhow, it’s worth looking into. A Gany ship. I wonder…”
Doctor Earl Basset’s face was red with exitement. “Let me by.” He pushed through the row of uniformed officers. “Please let me by.” Two shiny Lieutenants stepped out of his way and he saw, for the first time, the great globe of steel and rexenoid that was the captured Ganymedean ship.
“Look at it,” Major Siller whispered. “Nothing at all like our own ships. What makes it run?”
“No drive jets,” Commander Carmichel said. “Only landing jets to set her down. What makes her go?”
The Ganymedean globe rested quietly in the center of the Terran Experimental laboratory, rising up from the circle of men like a great bubble. It was a beautiful ship, glimmering with an even metallic fire, shimmering and radiating a cold light.
“It gives you a strange feeling,” General Groves said. Suddenly he caught his breath. “You don’t suppose this—this could be a gravity drive ship? The Ganys were supposed to be experimenting with gravity.”
“What’s that?” Basset said.
“A gravity drive ship would reach its destination without time lapse. The velocity of gravity is infinite. Can’t be measured. If this globe is—”
“Nonsense,” Carmichel said. “Einstein showed gravity isn’t a force but a warpage, a space warpage.”
“But couldn’t a ship be built using—”
“Gentlemen!” The Senate Leader came quickly into the laboratory, surrounded by his guards. “Is this the ship? This globe?” The officers pulled back and the Senate Leader went gingerly up to the great gleaming side. He touched it.
“It’s undamaged,” Siller said. “They’re translating the control markings so we can use it.”
“So this is the Ganymedean ship. Will it help us?”
“We don’t know yet,” Carmichel said.
“Here come the think-men,” Groves said. The hatch of the globe had opened, and two men in white lab uniforms were stepping carefully down, carrying a semantibox.
“What are the results?” the Senate Leader asked.
“We’ve made the translations. A Terran crew could operate the ship now. All the controls are marked.”
“We should make a study of the engines before we try the ship out,” Doctor Basset said. “What do we know about it? We don’t know what makes it run, or what fuel it uses.”
“How long will such a study take?” the Leader asked.
“Several days, at least,” Carmichel said.
“That long?”
“There’s no telling what we’ll run into. We may find a radically new type of drive and fuel. It might even take several weeks to finish the analysis.”
The Senate Leader pondered.
“Sir,” Carmichel said, “I think we should go ahead and have a test run. We can easily raise a volunteer crew.”
“A trial run could begin at once,” Groves said. “But we might have to wait weeks for the drive analysis.”
“You believe a complete crew would volunteer?”
Carmichel rubbed his hands together. “Don’t worry about that. Four men would do it. Three, outside of me.”
“Two,” General Groves said. “Count me in.”
“How about me, sir?” Major Siller asked hopefully.
Doctor Basset pushed up nervously. “Is it all right for a civilian to volunteer? I’m curious as hell about this.”