“Affirmative,” the psiman said. “A store ship docked there twenty hours before the attack. Among other things, it left newspapers containing the article.”
“Very good,” I said calmly. “Send a general order to suspend all future activity with the planted releases. Send it by psimen only, no mention on any other Naval signaling equipment, there’s a good chance now it might be overheard.”
I strolled out slowly, in command of the situation. Keeping my face turned away so they couldn’t see the cold sweat.
It was a fast run to Udrydde where my billionaire’s yacht, the Eldorado, was waiting. The dockyard commander showed me the ship, and made a noble effort to control his curiosity. I took a sadistic revenge on the Navy by not telling him a word about my mission. After checking out the controls and special apparatus with the technicians, I cleared the ship. There was a tape in the automatic navigator that would put me on the course mentioned in all the articles, just a press of a button and I would be on my way. I pressed the button.
It was a beautiful ship, and the dockyard had been lavish with their attention to detail. From bow to rear tubes she was plated in pure gold. There are other metals with a higher albedo, but none that give a richer effect. All the fittings, inside and out, were either machine-turned or plated. All this work could not have been done in the time allotted, the Navy must have adapted a luxury yacht to my needs.
Everything was ready. Either Pepe would make his move—or I would sail on to my billionaire’s paradise planet. If that happened, it would be best if I stayed there.
Now that I was in space, past the point of no return, all the doubts that I had dismissed fought for attention. The plan that had seemed so clear and logical now began to look like a patched and crazy makeshift.
“Hold on there, sailor,” I said to myself. Using my best admiral’s voice. “Nothing has changed. It’s still the best and only plan possible under the circumstances.”
Was it? Could I be sure that Pepe, flying his mountain of a ship and eating Navy rations, would be interested in some of the comforts and luxuries of life? Or if the luxuries didn’t catch his eye, would he be interested in the planetary homesteading gear? I had loaded the cards with all the things he might want, and planted the information where he could get it. He had the bait now—but would he grab the hook?
I couldn’t tell. And I could work myself into a neurotic state if I kept running through the worry cycle. It took an effort to concentrate on anything else, but it had to be made. The next four days passed very slowly.
Chapter 7
When the alarm blew off, all I felt was an intense sensation of relief. I might be dead and blasted to dust in the next few minutes, but that didn’t seem to make much difference.
Pepe had swallowed the bait. There was only one ship in the galaxy that could knock back a blip that big at such a distance. It was closing fast, using the raw energy of the battleship engines for a headlong approach. My ship bucked a bit as the tug-beams locked on at maximum distance. The radio bleeped at me for attention at the same time. I waited as long as I dared, then flipped it on. The voice boomed out.
“…That you are under the guns of a warship! Don’t attempt to run, signal, take evasive action, or in any other way…”
“Who are you—and what the devil do you want?” I spluttered into the mike. I had my scanner on, so they could see me, but my own screen stayed dark. They weren’t sending any picture. In a way it made my act easier, I just played to an unseen audience. They could see the rich cut of my clothes, the luxurious cabin behind me. Of course they couldn’t see my hands.
“It doesn’t matter who we are,” the radio boomed again. “Just obey orders if you care to live. Stay away from the controls until we have tied on, then do exactly as I say.”
There were two distant clangs as magnetic grapples hit the hull. A little later the ship lurched, drawn home against the battleship. I let my eyes roll in fear, looking around for a way to escape—and taking a peek at the outside scanners. The yacht was flush against the space-filling bulk of the other ship. I pressed the button that sent the torch-wielding robot on his way.
“Now let me tell you something,” I snapped into the mike, wiping away the worried billionaire expression. “First I’ll repeat your own warning—obey orders if you want to live. I’ll show you why—”
When I threw the big switch a carefully worked out sequence took place. First, of course, the hull was magnetized and the bombs fused. A light blinked as the scanner in the cabin turned off, and the one in the generator room came on. I checked the monitor screen to make sure, then started into the spacesuit. It had to be done fast, at the same time it was necessary to talk naturally. They must still think of me as sitting in the control room.
“That’s the ship’s generators you’re looking at,” I said. “Ninety-eight per cent of their output is now feeding into coils that make an electromagnet of this ship’s hull. You will find it very hard to separate us. And I would advise you not to try.”
The suit was on, and I kept the running chatter up through the mike in the helmet, relaying to the ship’s transmitter. The scene in the monitor receiver changed.
“You are now looking at a hydrogen bomb that is primed and aware of the magnetic field holding our ships together. It will, of course, go off if you try to pull away.” I grabbed up the monitor receiver and ran toward the air lock.
“This is a different bomb now,” I said, keeping one eye on the screen and the other on the slowly opening outer door. “This one has receptors on the hull. If you attempt to destroy any part of this ship, or even gain entry to it, this one will detonate.”
I was in space now, leaping across to the gigantic wall of the other ship.
“What do you want?” These were the first words Pepe had spoken since his first threats.
“I want to talk to you, arrange a deal. Something that would be profitable for both of us. But let me first show you the rest of the bombs, so you won’t get any strange ideas about co-operating.”
Of course I had to show him the rest of the bombs, there was no getting out of it. The scanners in the ship were following a planned program. I made light talk about all my massive armament that would carry us both to perdition, while I climbed through the hole in the battleship’s hull. There was no armor or warning devices at this spot, it had been chosen carefully from the blueprints.
“Yeah, yeah… I take your word for it, you’re a flying bomb. So stop with this roving reporter bit and tell me what you have in mind.”
This time I didn’t answer him, because I was running and panting like a dog, and had the mike turned off. Just ahead, if the blueprints were right, was the door to the control room. Pepe should be there.
I stepped through, gun out, and pointed it at the back of his head. Angelina stood next to him, looking at the screen.
“The game’s over,” I said. “Stand up slowly and keep your hands in sight.”
“What do you mean,” he said angrily, looking at the screen in front of him. The girl caught wise first. She spun around and pointed.
“He’s here!”
They both stared, gaped at me, caught off guard and completely unprepared.
“You’re under arrest, crime-king,” I told him. “And your girl friend.”
Angelina rolled her eyes up and slid slowly to the floor. Real or faked, I didn’t care. I kept the gun on Pepe’s pudgy form while he picked her up and carried her to an acceleration couch against the wall.
“What… what will happen now?” He quavered the question. His pouchy jaws shook and I swear there were tears in his eyes. I was not impressed by his acting since I could clearly remember the dead men floating in space. He stumbled over to a chair, half-dropping into it.