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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: In the Orbit of Saturn + +Author: Roman Frederick Starzl + +Release Date: June 4, 2009 [EBook #29038] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE ORBIT OF SATURN *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p><p class="center">This etext was produced from Astounding Stories October 1931. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img class="img1" src="images/image_001.jpg" width="500" height="502" alt="The two fighting men circled warily." /> +<span class="caption">The two fighting men circled warily.</span> +</div> + + +<h1>In the Orbit of Saturn</h1> + +<h2>By R. F. Starzl</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="sidenote"><i>Disguised as a voluntary prisoner on a pirate space ship, +an I. F. P. man penetrates the mystery of the dreaded "Solar +Scourge."</i></div> + + +<p><span class="f2">T</span>he <i>Celestia</i>, gliding through space toward Titan, major satellite of +Saturn, faltered in her course. Her passengers, mostly mining +engineers and their wives, stockholders, and a sprinkling of visitors, +were aware of a cessation of the heavens' apparent gyrations, due to +the halting of the ship's rotation on its axis. At the same time the +ship's fictitious gravity, engendered by the centrifugal force of its +rotation, ceased, so that passengers, most of whom were assembled in +the main salon, which occupied the entire midship section, drifted +away from the curved floor, whose contour followed that of the outer +skin, to flounder in helpless confusion.</p> + +<p>A woman screamed. A rasping sound, as of metal scraping against the +hull, came from one point in the circumference, and here the portholes +were obscured by a dark mass that blotted out the stars.</p> + +<p>An old man, clinging to a luxuriously upholstered chair, and pale with +fright, cried:</p> + +<p>"It's those damned pirates. If they find out who I am it'll break the +company to ransom me."</p> + +<p>"If the company thinks it worth while to ransom you," retorted his +youngish, saturnine companion, who seemed less scared than annoyed.</p> + +<p>Questions darted back and forth. No word came from the control room +forward, and little of what transpired outside could be seen through +the thick glass ports. The pirate ship loomed over them like a +monstrous leech, its bolts sharply etched in black and white by the +sunlight from their stern. Beyond that was only the velvety +darkness—the absolute vacuity of space that carries no sound, +refracts no light. A battle was raging out there, but of that nothing +could be seen or heard in the salon. Only a dull, booming vibration +through the flyer's hull, made by the rockets in a useless effort to +shake off their captor.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">O</span>f all the passengers, none understood the situation as well as Quirl +Finner. In imagination he followed the desperate struggle that was +going on out there, for the men who were selling their lives were his +companions in arms, the ship's guard of the redoubtable I.F.P., the +Interplanetary Flying Police who carried the law of white men to the +outermost orbit of the solar system.</p> + +<p>Quirl bristled, but he maintained his pose of indifference—of the +sightseeing passenger who depended blindly on the ship's crew for his +own safety. In appearance he might easily have been the pampered son +of some millionaire that he impersonated. His close-fitting silken +tunic of blue, with its bright yellow roll-collar, the turban of fine +yellow lace, the close-fitting trousers that showed his lithe yet +powerfully molded legs, the thin-soled low boots—all proclaimed him +the typical time-killing dandy of the times. His superb proportions +made him look smaller, lighter than he really was, and his lean +features, which under the I.F.P. skullcap would have looked hawk-like, +were sufficiently like the patrician fineness of the character part he +was playing. Young men of means in the year 2159 were by no means +without their good points. They indulged in athletic sports to +counteract the softening influence of idleness, and so Quirl Finner +had no misgivings about the success of his disguise.</p> + +<p>Yet he could not refrain from listening intently for every sound that +penetrated the hull. His part was to be captured by the pirate, who +had been named "The Solar Scourge" by sensational newscasters, and to +learn all he could, and eventually to be ransomed by a "wealthy +father" with his priceless information. So he waited, chafing, while +men he knew, men who had faced the perils of space with him, met their +death.</p> + +<p>After a time there came the sudden crackling of the air-tight bulkhead +which separated the salon from the forward sections. Quirl knew what +this meant. The pirates had succeeded in breaching a hole through the +ship's skin, and the air of the forward section had rushed into space. +It was sickening to think of those brave men up there caught in the +suddenly formed vacuum. Long before the bulkhead had ceased crackling +he knew they were dead, and that the pirate crew had entered, wearing +vacuum suits, and was even then replenishing the air so the passengers +could be taken alive.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">T</span>hey had been in the prison hold of the pirate ship for five days, +terrestrial time. This was nothing like the spacious quarters they had +occupied before. A cross-section of their prison would have looked +like a wedge with a quarter circle for its blunt end. The curved wall +of the great cylindrical projectile, nearly a hundred feet in +diameter, was their floor, on which they could walk like flies on the +inside of a wheel rim. The walls of the room, on two sides, converged +toward the top, until they joined the sides of a well-like tunnel that +ran from the nose of the ship to its tail, where the rocket nozzles +were. A door pierced the tunnel side, and under this door was a metal +platform, from which one could either climb into the passage or down a +ladder into the hold. A pirate guard held this platform, from where he +could peer over the top of a curtain which gave scant privacy to the +men and women prisoners on either side of it.</p> + +<p>On the floor-plates, without even the meager comfort of the dried +Martian weeds that had been given to the women, sat or lay the men. +They showed their dejection, their faces covered with new growths of +beard, their clothes crumpled and torn. The only furniture consisted +of a long, light metal table on the women's side, securely bolted to +the floor. The prisoners were obliged to stand at this when eating +their meals. The whole cheerless scene was coldly illuminated by a +single light-emanating disk just under the guard's platform.</p> + +<p>Steps echoed hollowly metallic from above. Quirl wondered if it was +already time for the galley boy to bring the immense bowl of hot stew +for the noon meal.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">I</span>t was not. It was Moby Gore, the huge and overbearing first mate of +the pirates on his daily mission of inspection and prisoner baiting. +Quirl crept further into his corner. It would be fatal to his plan for +him to attract the attention of this petty tyrant. It was hard enough +to keep away from him—to crush back the almost overwhelming desire to +fly at him, fists hammering.</p> + +<p>Gore came down the ladder deliberately, pausing on the lower steps to +look around with his little, pig's eyes. His head was set well forward +on his thick, muscular neck, so that he had to look out from under his +beetling brows in a manner peculiarly ape-like. His heavy face was +smooth-shaven, and his blue-black jowls and chin looked painfully +smooth. His coarse, black hair was brushed back and plastered firmly +to his bullet head.</p> + +<p>His body was heavy, but moved with deadly smoothness and precision. +The customary harness which passed around his naked torso supported a +double-barreled ironizing electrocution pistol, and also a short, +savagely knobbed riot club. Depending from the belt at his waist were +short pants, which displayed the thick, hairy legs with their +cable-like muscles. On his feet were thick socks, so that his toes +were able to curl around the rungs of the ladder.</p> + +<p>Satisfied with his quick, darting inspection, Gore now came all the +way down. At the foot of the ladder lay an elderly man in the oblivion +of sleep. Gore's foot came down on the thin chest. With savage +pleasure he bore down, so that the old man's startled squawk ended in +a fit of coughing. Gore cuffed him aside roughly, growling:</p> + +<p>"Old squiffer! Let that learn you to sleep out of the way!" He laughed +coarsely when one of the prisoners, with the temerity of anonymity, +started to boo, but received no support.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">C</span>arelessly Gore passed among the prisoners. Here and there he halted, +snatching some article of finery or inconspicuous bit of jewelry that +he had overlooked before. They shrank from him, only too glad to see +him pass on to the next unfortunate.</p> + +<p>"You, there!" Gore rasped, indicating Quirl with his stubby +forefinger. "Come on out o' there, you!"</p> + +<p>Quirl hoped that the brutal mate would not hear the thudding of his +beating heart, or that if he did, he would take it for fear. He came +slowly toward Gore, who was greedily eyeing the young man's brightly +colored and valuable tunic. Quirl came too slowly.</p> + +<p>"What do you take me for?" Gore bellowed in unreasonable anger. He +strode forward, the prisoners scattering before him. His large, knotty +hand closed on Quirl's arm, and jerked, with the intention of whirling +this reluctant prisoner across the room. But Quirl was heavier, and +his arm harder, than Gore had supposed. The hand came away, and with a +tearing scream, the beautiful silk garment ripped off, ruined, +disclosing Quirl's white and well-knit body.</p> + +<p>"You done that a-purpose!" Gore roared, and then his great ape's arms +were around Quirl, trying to break his back.</p> + +<p>But that seemingly slight body would not bend, and, as much as Gore +might tug and heave, he could not force Quirl back. The little +pig-eyes glared, and there was death in them. Suddenly Gore let go. +His hand leaped to the short club at his side, and he swung the weapon +in a vicious arc. Quirl's relaxed forearm met it, sapping most of its +force. Yet when it struck his head it seemed to burst like a ball of +fire. He crashed against the wall and sank to the floor only half +conscious.</p> + +<p>"Gore! Gore!" yelled the guard from the platform, "'member how sore +the Old Man was about the last terrie you killed? Better lay off."</p> + +<p>"Shut yo'r damned mug!" Gore yelled back. But he gave up his idea of +kicking the prisoner, and with a menacing glare for the guard, passed +on.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">A</span>s Quirl's mind slowly cleared he congratulated himself for his +repression. During his struggle with Gore his hand had come in contact +with the butt of the mate's electrogun. He could easily have pulled it +out of its holster and turned it against its owner. But this hasty +action would not only have assured his own death, but would have +destroyed the only chance the I.F.P. had of learning "The Scourge's" +secrets.</p> + +<p>Gore slowly worked his way to the women's side of the hold. Here, much +to the amusement of the guard and himself, he began stripping off +their long, flowing robes, disclosing their nude bodies. He seemed to +see particular humor to heaping indignity on the older women, +commenting coarsely on their shortcomings. The men viewed this with +set, pale faces. But none dared to interfere. In their midst was an +object lesson, his head swathed in bandages. He had been the first to +resent this exhibition, an almost daily event, when the mate's roving +eye had happened to alight upon his wife.</p> + +<p>All at once Gore's careless and derogatory progress was halted, and he +stared with terrifying intentness at the girl who had until that day +managed to escape his notice. Gore had torn off a nondescript black +cape that had covered her head and face, and the golden silk robe she +wore. To Quirl, watching from a space of some sixty feet, her beauty +came like a shock. He remembered her as Lenore Hyde, whom he had seen +only once before as she emerged briefly from her stateroom.</p> + +<p>About five feet, six inches tall, her slim figure was dwarfed by the +huge bulk of the mate. Her golden hair tumbled over her slim +shoulders, almost to her waist, where a tasseled cord held the +clinging silk close to her. Her face, so white that it seemed like +silver in that gorgeous setting, was cold and defiant. There was no +fear in those deep blue eyes under the straight brows—only loathing +and contempt.</p> + +<p>Gore was not concerned with the personal feelings of his prize. He +licked his wide, cruel lips, seizing the girl's arms as in a vise. His +other big, dirty hand slipped into the collar of her robe.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">B</span>ut the ripping of fabric did not come. Instead there was a sharp +crack, and Gore, too surprised even to move, stared at the little man +who had hit him.</p> + +<p>Again <i>crack</i>! The impact of fist on jaw. The blow was too weak to +hurt this toughened veteran of countless battles. But slowly a tide of +dull red welled up over the bull neck, turning the blue-black jowls to +purple, and the walls echoed to Gore's roar of anger.</p> + +<p>Again the fists of the smaller man smacked, this time drawing a +trickle of blood from Gore's mouth. Then the thick fingers closed on +the brave passenger's wrist, and the tremendous muscles swelled as, +with a quick movement, Gore thrust his adversary back of him, grasping +the other wrist also. Then with slow, irresistible motion, he began +drawing the thin arms forward, stretching them, until the unfortunate +man, drawn against the barrier of Gore's back, began to shriek with +pain.</p> + +<p>Still Gore pulled, grinning evilly, and his victim's shoulder blades +lifted under the tight skin of his back as they took the strain. +Shriek followed shriek, until the guard on the platform glanced +furtively out into the central well. There came a dry, tearing crackle +as the bones of the arms were drawn out of their sockets, and then the +shrieks ceased as merciful unconsciousness came. Gore tossed the limp +body carelessly away.</p> + +<p>"The beast!" Quirl gritted his teeth. But he stayed where he was, +hiding his clenched fist, for his was a specific assignment, and men +of the I.F.P. know the meaning of the word "duty."</p> + +<p>In a better humor again, Gore looked around.</p> + +<p>"Come on, you little ginny!" he chortled. "I see you! Come to Moby, my +beauty. You'll be queen of the hold, and this scurvy litter will kiss +your feet every day."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">H</span>e pursued her as she ran, bowling over or trampling on the +fear-stricken prisoners as they tried to scramble out of his way, men +and women alike. But she made up in agility what she lacked in +strength, lifting up the hem of her robe so that her legs twinkled +bare, ducking under Gore's outstretched arms, or leaping over the +fallen form of some stumbling, panic-stricken unfortunate.</p> + +<p>Only in her eyes was there a true picture of her terror. Gore's +uncertain temper was changing again, and in a few moments he was +cursing foully, his little red-rimmed eyes glistening, as he dashed +after her with short, boar-like rushes.</p> + +<p>Again she skimmed past where Quirl cowered in simulated fear, and the +look she gave him struck straight at the disguised officer's heart. So +it was that when she slipped and fell to her knees, and Gore charged +in with a triumphant laugh, Quirl met him with no thought of anything, +no feeling but the joy of battle, the delight of a strong man when he +meets a foe whom he hates. And to that heady, feral emotion was added +the unforgettable picture of a lovely face whose obvious fear was +somehow tempered by hope and confidence—in him!</p> + +<p>As Gore lunged past, Quirl struck him. It was a short, sharp, +well-timed jab that would have knocked out an ordinary man. But Gore +was by no means ordinary. The blow laid open his cheek against the +jawbone, but Gore scarcely slowed as he swerved. With a bellow of +rage, he came straight at Quirl, arms outstretched.</p> + +<p>Philosophers have said that no matter how far the human race advances +in the sciences, its fundamental reactions will still be atavistic. +Gore could have dispatched Quirl in a second with his ray weapon, with +perfect safety. Yet it is doubtful that the weapon even entered his +mind. As he came to the battle he was driven only by the primitive +urge to fight with his hands, to maim, to tear limb from limb like the +great simians whom he resembled.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">T</span>o Quirl, coolly poised, the picture of Gore did not inspire terror. +In the passengers, it did. They saw a brutal giant, gorilla-like, and +roaring like a beast, charging at a half-naked youth apparently only +half his size. It seemed that those tremendous arms must break him at +the first touch.</p> + +<p>But the grasping hands slipped off the lithe body as if it were oiled, +leaving only angry red welts along Quirl's ribs. As the officer edged +away he planted two blows on Gore's nose, which began to bleed freely.</p> + +<p>Again Gore rushed, and <i>spat!</i> <i>spat!</i> two seemingly light blows +landed on his face, opening a cut above his eye and another on his +cheek bone. In a few seconds of battling he had become a shocking +sight, with his features almost obscured by welling blood.</p> + +<p>Again Quirl measured him, and this time, instead of evading the grasp +of the mate's eager arms, he stepped right between them. Like a wraith +he slipped into their embrace, and before they could grasp him, +standing so close that his chest almost touched his adversary's, he +whipped a right to Gore's jaw. It was the kind of punch that makes +champions, a whiplike lash of the forearm, with relaxed muscles that +tighten at the moment of impact. A punch with "follow-through" fit to +knock out ninety-nine men out of a hundred.</p> + +<p>But it did not knock out Gore, and Quirl had to pay dearly for his +error. Gore was staggered, but his mighty arms closed, hugging his +slighter opponent to his hairy chest so that the breath was choked out +of him, and the metal studs on his harness gouged cruelly into Quirl's +flesh. His face was blue before he could work his arm loose, and begin +to prod with stiffened fingers at Gore's throat. Gore had to let go +then, and Quirl broke away, boxed for a few moments until he had +recovered, and then proceeded to chop Gore's face beyond any semblance +of humanity.</p> + +<p>The mate had dropped his ray weapon, and now searched for it with +blinded eyes. He flung his riot club, and it flew wide of the mark. It +was obvious that he was going to be beaten into insensibility.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">T</span>he guard on the platform, seeing the trend of the battle, shouted +hoarsely up the well, and in a few minutes four men, hard-bitten, +villainous looking fellows, tumbled down the ladder and joyously +joined in the fray. It was then only a matter of seconds before Quirl +lay on the floor-plates, battered and bleeding, but still feebly +fighting, while Gore sat astride him, seeking with vicious fingers for +Quirl's eyes. At the same time his men were kicking at the helpless +man's body wherever they could reach him.</p> + +<p>At the sight of this brutality the other prisoners, forgetting for the +moment their own cowed condition, set up such a bedlam of noise that +the guard began to look furtively up the passage, and to shout at the +ruffians.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he was whirled aside, and a figure in uniform, moving with +uncanny speed for a man so massive, appeared upon the platform and +bounded down the ladder. He was among the struggling men on the floor +in a moment, and became a maze of flailing arms and legs. Like +ten-pins the pirates scattered, and the giant pulled off the mate. +Gore could not see, but as he writhed he knew he was in the grip of +the pirate captain. Captain Strom's harsh, ascetic face was dangerous, +and his steely gray eyes compelling. The men managed slovenly salutes.</p> + +<p>"Gore," Strom snapped, "have your men get some water and mop up this +blood. How many times have I told you to quit mauling the prisoners? +D'ye think I'm in this business to provide amusement for you? +Henceforth keep out of this hold. Hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Gore muttered sullenly.</p> + +<p>"Took five of you bums to handle him, did it?" Strom remarked +sardonically, stooping to pick up the unconscious Quirl. He carried +him easily, up the ladder. As they disappeared Strom's voice boomed +out:</p> + +<p>"Dr. Stoddard! Stoddard! Messenger, have Stoddard report at my cabin."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">T</span>he mate was wiping the blood off his face with a rag.</p> + +<p>"I tried to call yer," the guard whined.</p> + +<p>"That tears it!" Gore exclaimed fiercely, bursting into a string of +abuse. But one of his henchmen nudged him.</p> + +<p>"Keep yer tongue in yer face, Gore, till the time comes."</p> + +<p>Gore said nothing, but glared savagely at the prisoners.</p> + +<p>"Get the buckets and mops!" he snarled at his men, and they fled +precipitately.</p> + +<p>A long, wailing noise came through the hatch:</p> + +<p>"Soopson! S-o-o-pson!"</p> + +<p>"Here comes yer grub, damn you," Gore growled at the prisoners in +general. A shuffling sound followed the singsong call, and then a +"galley boy" of forty years or so, badly crippled by club-feet, +shuffled up to the hatch and laboriously let himself down to the +platform. The huge bowl of stew he was carrying was far too heavy for +him, and his strained, thin face was beady with sweat.</p> + +<p>"Get a move on, Sorko!" Gore bellowed up at him. "Get your swill down +here. Some o' these swine are goin' short this time, anyway."</p> + +<p>Sorko set the big bowl down at the top of the steps and began to +descend backward. Then he resumed his burden.</p> + +<p>But he was nervous, and had barely started when his crippled feet, far +too big for his thin shanks, became entangled. He gave a giddy shriek +and fell over backward, landing on his back, and lay still. His pale, +freckled face became greenish.</p> + +<p>But the bowl, filled to the brim by its greasy, scalding hot contents, +flew in a sweeping parabola, tipping as it fell, so that the entire +contents cascaded on Gore, drenching him from head to foot. Howling +with rage and pain he danced around. He was utterly beside himself. +When he was able to see he rushed for Sorko, who was moaning with +returning consciousness, and picked up the frail body to hurl it +against the floor.</p> + +<p>"Stop, or you're dead!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">T</span>hat voice, so incisive and clear, was a woman's. Gore found himself +looking into the little twin funnels of his own ray projector. They +were filled with a milky light, and the odor of ozone was strong. The +girl had only to press the trigger and a powerful current would leap +along the path of those ionizing beams. And Gore would murder no more.</p> + +<p>Stupidly, he let Sorko slide to the floor, where the poor fellow +recovered sufficiently from his paralyzing fright and his fall to +scuttle away.</p> + +<p>Looking past the menacing weapon, Gore saw the girl, Lenore Hyde. Her +limpid eyes under their straight brows were blazing, and he read in +them certain death for himself.</p> + +<p>"Up that ladder!" she ordered sharply, "and stay out! Guard, when this +beast is gone I will give you this weapon. Now, connect up your +skipper."</p> + +<p>Too surprised to disobey, the guard threw the televisor switch, and in +a moment Strom's stern face appeared on the screen. He comprehended +the situation immediately.</p> + +<p>"Do as she says," he ordered brusquely. "Stoddard is coming to take +care of that man of hers that Gore beat up."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later she was tearfully assisting the ship's doctor to +put the man with the dislocated shoulders on a stretcher.</p> + +<p>"Your husband?" asked Stoddard, who resembled a starved gray rat.</p> + +<p>"My brother," she exclaimed simply.</p> + +<p>"Want to take care of him?" And at her eager assent, he said, "Can't +afford to let him die. Your family got money?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! They will pay anything—anything—to get him back safely."</p> + +<p>The doctor grinned with satisfaction.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">M</span>emory returned to Quirl with the realization that he was lying on a +metal bunk in an outside stateroom, where he could see the orderly +procession of the stars through the floor ports as the ship rotated. +His body was racked with pain, and his head seemed enormous. His +sensation, he discovered, was due to a thick swathing of bandages.</p> + +<p>As he stirred something moved in an adjoining bunk, and Dr. Stoddard's +peaked face came into view.</p> + +<p>"How do you feel?" he asked professionally.</p> + +<p>"Rotten!"</p> + +<p>"We'll fix that." He left, returning a few minutes later with a +portable apparatus somewhat resembling its progenitor, the diathermy +generator. He disposed a number of insulated loops about Quirl's body +and head, connecting them through flexible cables to his machine. As a +gentle humming began, Quirl was conscious of an agreeable warmth, of a +quickening all over his body. A great lassitude followed, and he +slept.</p> + +<p>When he awoke again Captain Strom was standing beside him. He had +taken off his coat, and his powerful body filled the blouse he was +wearing. He had evidently just come off duty, for he still had on his +blue trousers, with the stripes of gold braid down the sides.</p> + +<p>"It may interest you, Mr. Finner, that I have selected you as one of +the chosen," he remarked casually.</p> + +<p>"One of the chosen what?"</p> + +<p>"The chosen race. You didn't take me for an out-and-out damned pirate, +did you?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me if I seem dumb!" Quirl hoisted himself on his elbow. "Yes, +I figure you're a pirate. What else?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">S</span>trom's stern face relaxed in a smile. It was a strange smile, +inscrutably melancholy. It revealed, beneath the hardness of a +warrior, something else; the idealism of a poet. When he spoke again +it was with a strange gentleness:</p> + +<p>"To attain one's end, one must make use of many means, and sometimes +to disguise one's purpose. For instance, it is perfectly proper for an +officer of the I.F.P. to disguise himself like a son of the idle rich +in order to lay the infamous 'Scourge' by the heels, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Quirl felt himself redden. And a cold fear seemed to overwhelm him. He +realized that Strom was a zealot, and he knew he would not hesitate to +kill. This prompt penetration of his disguise was something he had not +bargained for.</p> + +<p>"What makes you think," he asked shortly, "that I'm an I.F.P. man?"</p> + +<p>"The fight you gave Gore and his men. Do you expect me to think that a +coupon clipper could have done that? I know the way of—"</p> + +<p>He checked himself. Quirl said:</p> + +<p>"My people have money. I don't know what you mean about—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you do," Strom interrupted. "If you were what you claim to +be perhaps I would let you go for the ransom, though you took my eye +from the first."</p> + +<p>"The ransom will be paid."</p> + +<p>"It will not. You will be one of those who do not return. There is +only one price I will accept from you."</p> + +<p>"Yes? What is that?"</p> + +<p>"The formula of the new etheric ray."</p> + +<p>"I don't know the I.F.P. secrets. I told you that."</p> + +<p>"You know how to operate the ray. All its men do. I want you to tell +me what you know. I can deduce the rest."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">Q</span>uirl thought rapidly. Strom was right. The I.F.P. had developed a new +ray that was far superior to the ionizer ray, for the latter required +an atmosphere of some kind for its operation, while the new one would +work equally well in a vacuum.</p> + +<p>"I never heard of any," he lied stubbornly. "Anyway, what do you want +a ray for? Your guns, with no gravity to interfere and no air to stop +the bullets, have just about unlimited range, haven't they?"</p> + +<p>"Spoken like a soldier!" Again Strom permitted himself a brief +triumphant smile. "And we have the further advantage of invisibility. +The ship is surrounded by a net of wires that create a field of force +which bend light rays around us. That explains why your men have never +caught us. But to get back to our subject. I will tell you something. +Do you know who I am?"</p> + +<p>Quirl looked at him. Strom appeared to be at least sixty years old. +But the fine, erect figure, the rugged features told nothing.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever hear of Lieutenant Burroughs?" Strom asked casually.</p> + +<p>"Burroughs—the man without a planet!" Quirl ejaculated. "Are you +Burroughs, the traitor?" Immediately he regretted his heedlessness. +Strom's face darkened in anger, and for a moment the pirate captain +did not reply. When he did he was a little calmer.</p> + +<p>"Traitor they called me!" he exclaimed vehemently. "I a traitor—the +most loyal man in the solar system guard. Surrounded by rottenness and +intrigue—</p> + +<p>"But you wouldn't know. You were but a lad learning to fly your first +toy helics when that happened. Years later the Martian Cabal was +exposed, and the leading plotters—the traitors—were punished. But +that was not till later, and the court's irreversible decree against +me had been carried out. I, the unsuspecting messenger, the loyal, +eager dupe, was made the cat's-paw. I was put on an old, condemned +freighter, with food and supplies supposed to last me a lifetime, but +with no power capsules and no means of steering the ship. I was set +adrift in a derelict on a lonely orbit of exile around the sun—the +man without a planet!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">"P</span>icture that, lad. That rusty, dead old cylinder, coursing around and +around the sun, and inside, sitting on his bales and boxes, a young +man like you. A young man in the pride and prime of his life, +expiating the treason that had betrayed him. Day after day, through +the thick ports, I saw the same changeless scene. And every two years, +when I drew near the Earth, I watched the beautiful green ball of it, +with what bitter longings! As I watched it dwindle away again into +the blackness of space, I thought of the fortunate, selfish, stupid +and cruel beings who lived on it, and hated them. They had banished +me, an innocent man, to whirl forever and ever around the sun, in my +steel tomb!</p> + +<p>"But that cruel judgment was never executed. Seven years ago this Gore +found me. He is an escaped convict, and he came in a little five-man +rocket he had stolen. We loaded up all of the supplies the little ship +would hold, for Gore had no food, and escaped to Titan, landing on an +island on the side opposite to where the mines are.</p> + +<p>"Gore wanted to become a pirate, and as he could get men, I consented. +He scraped them up, fugitives from justice, every one of them. We +built this ship, and I invented the invisibility field of force—"</p> + +<p>"Just a moment," Quirl interrupted, vastly interested. "I saw your +ship through the ports that day."</p> + +<p>"True. The presence of your ship in the field distorted it so much +that it was ineffective. But at all other times—right now—we are +utterly invisible. One of the I.F.P. patrols may pass within a mile of +us and never see us.</p> + +<p>"As we raided the interplanetary commerce, I began to weed out the +people we captured. Those that showed the highest intelligence, sense +of justice and physical perfection I selected to be the nucleus of a +new race, to be kept on Titan for a time and then to be transplanted +to a new planet of one of the nearer solar systems.</p> + +<p>"My principal trouble is with the crew. They can collect ransom only +on those I reject, and there are constant clashes between me and Gore. +It is now my intention to let them go their way, and to fit out a new +ship, with a new crew. I offer you the place of first mate."</p> + +<p>"No!" Quirl replied crisply. "You say you understand the honor of the +Force, and then offer me a job pirating with you. No, thanks!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">S</span>trom, or Burroughs, made no attempt to conceal his disappointment. +The recital of his wrongs had brought out the bitter lines of his +face, and the weariness of one who plays his game alone and can call +no one friend.</p> + +<p>"I should have known better," he said quietly. "There was none more +loyal to the I.F.P. than I—when I still belonged to it. Yet, I +thought if I laid all my cards before you—You realize what this +means?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Quirl replied soberly. "It means you will never dare to let me +be ransomed nor to free me among your selected people. It +means—death!"</p> + +<p>"Not death! I will parole you."</p> + +<p>Quirl felt an overmastering surge of sympathy. He saw this pirate as +later historians have come to see him—a man of lofty and noble +purpose who was made the victim of shrewder, meaner minds in the most +despicable interplanetary imbroglio ever to disgrace a solar system. +The thought of his own fate, should he refuse the offer, did not +depress Quirl as much as the necessity of heaping more disappointment +on this deeply wronged "man without a planet."</p> + +<p>"Captain," he said slowly, with deep regret. "You remember the I.F.P. +oath?" And at the other's flush he hurried on. "Knowing that oath you +know what my answer must be. Put me in irons or kill me!"</p> + +<p>"I know," Strom added wistfully. "Would you—if I could just once more +shake the clean hand of a brave man and a gentleman—"</p> + +<p>Quirl's hand shot out and gripped the long, powerful fingers of the +pirate captain.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">Q</span>uirl was willing to compromise to the extent of not revealing +anything to the other passengers, for the privilege of being kept in +the prison hold rather than in solitary confinement. Here he would be +under the vigilant eye of a guard, with possibly less chance of +effecting an escape in some way, but he felt a great desire to be near +the girl Lenore, and to know that she was safe and in good spirits.</p> + +<p>They fastened him by means of a light chain and hoop that locked +around his waist to a staple set in the floor near one wall. The other +prisoners regarded him as a hero, for since the day of the epic fight +the mate had kept away, and they had been treated with tolerable +decency. Quirl was able to cheer them up with predictions that the +most of them would be eligible to ransom. But as he looked at the pale +beauty of Lenore he felt grave misgivings, for he knew that a man of +Strom's discernment would want her for his projected Utopia without +question.</p> + +<p>She did not speak to him while the hero-worshipping crowd were +fluttering about him to their heart's content. When they finally left +him alone she came up to him silently, and sat on the floor beside +him.</p> + +<p>"I want to thank you," she said quietly, clearly, "for what you did +for me and my brother, Mr.—"</p> + +<p>"Finner. Quirl Finner. I have thought of you as Lenore, and wondered +how you were. How long has it been since they took me out? You see—" +he grinned, "I was asleep."</p> + +<p>"Five days. At least, they turned off the lights five times for the +sleeping periods."</p> + +<p>"The man who fought for you—how is he?"</p> + +<p>"My brother—is dead!"</p> + +<p>Quirl looked away so that he should not see the quick tears springing +to her eyes. But a few moments later he felt her cool hand on his +scarred forehead, and she was smiling bravely.</p> + +<p>"Tragedies such as these, Quirl, were common in the lives of our +ancestors. They were able to bear them, and we can bear them. All his +life my poor brother has lived as a gentleman, sheltered, protected by +class barriers. When he died of pneumonia caused by the jagged end of +a broken rib—so Dr. Stoddard says—I think he had a lively sense of +satisfaction that he should end in such a way. If it had not been for +me—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">S</span>he came to him often, after that, to sit quietly by his side, and to +bring his food to him from the big community bowl which even the most +fastidious of the prisoners had come to look forward to. She told of +her life as the daughter of a capitalist who owned large mine holdings +on Titan. It would be about time for the <i>Celestia</i> to reach Titan, +and her non-arrival would be causing anxiety to Lenore's father +awaiting her there. The void would be swarming with I.F.P. patrols, +but as the pirate ship was invisible nothing would be found but the +mysteriously looted and abandoned <i>Celestia</i>.</p> + +<p>There was no longer any reason for concealing from her the fact that +he himself was a member of the I.F.P., and Quirl told Lenore of the +adventurous life he and his companions had led. Of forays to far-away +and as yet undisciplined Pluto, of tropical Venus and Mercury, where +the rains never cease, of the hostile and almost unknown planet of +Aryl, within the orbit of Mercury, where no man has ever seen a true +image of the landscape because of the stupendous and never-ending +mirages.</p> + +<p>As time passed they were drawn together by the bonds of propinquity +and mutual interest—this obscure police officer and the daughter of +one of the most powerful men in the solar system. But Quirl did not +name his love, for always there was the grim present of their +captivity, the ghastly uncertainty of the future.</p> + +<p>The little "galley boy" Sorko seemed daily more frail. Apparently the +fall he had sustained had done him some internal injury. Often the +guard, with many a ribald comment, had to help him get his emptied +bowl back up the ladder.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">O</span>ne day he seemed overcome by great weakness. Staggering, he held his +hand to his sweat-dewed forehead. Erratically he waltzed across the +floor, to crumple in a heap where Quirl and the girl were sitting. +Moved by compassion, Lenore composed his body in a more comfortable +position, and with a bit of handkerchief moistened the pirate's +wrinkled, old-young face with some of Quirl's drinking water. The +guard looked on indifferently.</p> + +<p>"Guard!" Quirl shouted. "He's going to die. Come and take him to the +lazaret."</p> + +<p>"Sez you!" returned the guard callously. "Me, I stay on post till +relieved. Sorko'll be all right. He's been throwin' them fits right +regular."</p> + +<p>Sorko's lips moved feebly, and Lenore bent down to catch his words. +They were barely audible:</p> + +<p>"I'm all right, lady. You done me a good turn when you made Gore put +me down, and I'm doin' you one now. I wouldn't do this for no one +else." He gasped.</p> + +<p>"Water!" Lenore exclaimed sharply, and Quirl handed her the rest of +his cup.</p> + +<p>"Ain't water he wants," the amused guard observed. "The blighter's +playin' for a good chew of merclite!"<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Merclite, a highly stimulating gum. It was prohibited by +interplanetary proclamation, but was always obtainable through the +surreptitious channels of a highly profitable traffic.</p></div> + +<p>"I ain't as bad as I'm makin' out," Sorko whispered. "Got to do it to +tell you this, 'cause you was square with me. Gore is fixin' to have a +mut'ny. Kill captain, kill all these dubs here—this guy of yourn, +too. He wants to take you for his—" the weazened little face twisted +in unwonted shy delicacy—"take you for him, pretty lady. I don't +want him to. I'm not—a—bad feller—"</p> + +<p>"What the hell, Sorko!" the puzzled guard exclaimed over the delay. +"You bandy-legged rat, get up there, or I'll give you a jolt."</p> + +<p>Lenore looked up, indignant.</p> + +<p>"You heartless wretch! Would you let this man—"</p> + +<p>"Comin'!" Sorko scrambling to his feet, shuffling to the table, where +he retrieved his bowl. Quirl and Lenore watched his painful progress +up the ladder, until at last he disappeared into the passage.</p> + +<p>"Quirl," she murmured, as her hand sought his, "take this."</p> + +<p>He felt a small bit of metal, and looking at it cautiously, saw that +he had a rough key, filed out of a piece of flat metal.</p> + +<p>"The key to that hoop around your waist. He copied it from the one the +captain has, I suppose."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">H</span>is hopes high all at once, Quirl sought the compact little lock in +the small of his back. It took a long time to get the key in, and then +it would not turn. It had been unskillfully made, and was probably not +a true reproduction. Nevertheless, by constant effort, he succeeded at +last in turning it, and was rewarded by hearing a faint click. He +tested the hoop, felt it slip, and knew that at any time he chose he +could free himself.</p> + +<p>"Lenore, dear," he told her. "Go with the other women now. We must do +nothing to make the guard suspicious. We don't know when this mutiny +is to come off, but we are close to Saturn now; it can't be long. Go +now."</p> + +<p>"Good-by, dear. Be careful!"</p> + +<p>It seemed an eternity until the emanation disk became dim and went out +and the prisoners made sleepy sounds. A relief guard took station, +and the ship became silent, so that one could hear the rumbling of the +propelling rockets. As there were no ports in this hold, there was no +light whatever except the faint glow that came from the central +passage above the platform. Against this the pirate was outlined as he +sat on his stool. As Quirl's eyes became accustomed to the darkness he +could see the play of faint highlights on his muscular torso, and so +he waited.</p> + +<p>He thought over the situation. The safest and easiest course would be +to create such a disturbance that Captain Strom would be attracted to +the scene. This would probably not involve anything more than a severe +beating for himself, and he would then find opportunity to acquaint +Strom with the projected mutiny somehow. That Strom would know how to +deal with it he never doubted. Lenore might then still be forcibly +impressed as a citizen of Strom's new planet, but at least she would +not be exposed to the infinitely worse fate of becoming the plaything +of Gore and his villainous crew.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">T</span>he flaw of this plan was that Quirl himself would still be under +practical sentence of death. Strom would not let his gratitude carry +him so far as to release a man who knew as much as Quirl did, and who +would not promise to keep his secrets.</p> + +<p>The preferable, though far more dangerous course was to strike before +the mutineers could. Quirl knew something about the structure of the +ship. It was built around the tubular passage, and every hold or group +of rooms opened on this well, from the bow where the navigators were +to the stern where the rockets were located. Somewhere there would be +a generating room where the invisibility field was being produced. If +he could find this and wreck the generators one of the I.F.P. ships +with which this part of space doubtless swarmed, would sight them, and +after that everything was in the hands of fate.</p> + +<p>Quirl nervously waited for the guard to nod. At any moment he expected +to hear a hellish bedlam break loose—the beginning of the mutiny. And +the guard seemed alert. There was nothing to do but take a chance.</p> + +<p>Quirl sighed as if he were turning in his sleep, so that the clink of +the released chain would not seem out of place. The guard did not +stir. Slowly, very slowly, Quirl crept across the floor. He had been +robbed of all his clothing except his torn silk trousers; and his +boots were gone, so he was able to move as quietly as a cat.</p> + +<p>With tense silence he ascended the ladder, praying that his weight +would not send up a warning vibration. But his luck held. He was +nearly at the top before it broke.</p> + +<p>"Take him off! Take him off!" It was an eery, strangled shriek from +one of the male prisoners in the throes of a nightmare. With a +startled curse the guard thudded to his feet, peered tensely into the +darkness, his weapon sending twin milky beams of the powerful ionizing +ray toward the source of the sound.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">T</span>he dreamer had awakened, still gasping in the grip of fear, and other +disturbed sleepers were grumbling.</p> + +<p>"Better go easy, you fools," the pirate warned them. "Yer just in luck +that I didn't let loose a couple bolts on ye. Got a good notion to do +it, anyway." He played the dangerous little spots of light around, +amused as the prisoners scrambled for safety, but with no real +intention of releasing the deadly electric charge along the paths +provided for it. This cruel pleasure cost him his life. As he turned +his back Quirl leaped. His iron-hard forearm rose and fell, and the +edge of his hand came down on the back of the pirate's thick neck. +There was a muffled crack and he slumped to the platform grating.</p> + +<p>Quickly the officer stripped off the man's harness and buckled it +around his own naked chest. The electrogun had been uninjured, and +hooked to the belt was also the riot club, a truly appalling thing at +close quarters. Quirl carried the body down, laid it prone in the +corner he had occupied, snapped on the waistlock, and threw a ragged +old blanket over the hairy legs. In the forthcoming disturbance, if +anyone looked in, he would think the inert form a sleeping prisoner, +and that the guard had deserted post.</p> + +<p>Quirl had feared an outbreak among the prisoners, but they were so +apathetic that they paid little attention. Perhaps they thought it was +Quirl who had been killed, and he did not dare even a whispered +farewell to the girl he knew was watching somewhere in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Much to Quirl's delight, the long, tubular passage was deserted. Here +the centrifugal gravity was less than it had been in the hold. A weird +place, this central tube, where every direction was down, and a man +could walk on his ceiling, his floor, his walls with equal facility. +No top nor bottom—just a long, smooth tube with numerous enigmatic +doors leading to—where?</p> + +<p>At least it was easy to tell where the bow of the ship was. A light +shone through a transom over the door to the navigating room. Should +he try to hold up the navigating officer? He decided against that. +There would be at least three men in there, and it was the custom to +keep those quarters locked.</p> + +<p>"If only I knew where they generate the invisibility field!" he +muttered, as he stood irresolute.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">O</span>pportunity came at that moment. A crack of light appeared along the +passage. A door was opening there. A moment later a head and +shoulders showed. Someone was climbing up. Swiftly the officer ran to +the place. The pirate did not even suspect anything wrong until he +felt the spots of milky light on his face. He showed his terror +plainly.</p> + +<p>"Get up!" Quirl hissed. The man obeyed with alacrity. Quirl glanced +down. He saw tiers of bunks, evidently one of the crew's dormitories.</p> + +<p>He now turned to the cowering pirate.</p> + +<p>"I'd as soon kill you as not!" Quirl snarled.</p> + +<p>"You got me wrong, brother!" the pirate whined. "I'm with Gore in this +deal. Lay off!"</p> + +<p>"Where you bound for?"</p> + +<p>"I have to relieve Burke at the ventilating turbines."</p> + +<p>"Let Burke wait. Lead on to the invisibility generators."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't do that, mister! I got to have a pass. Say, mister, I was +just kidding about being one of Gore's men. I'm for the cap'n, yes, +sir!"</p> + +<p>"You lying scum!" Quirl barked impatiently. "Get going!"</p> + +<p>The white-faced and bewildered pirate led the way down the tube to the +after end. He unlatched a door and tried to enter, but as soon as he +had dropped through to the platform he was met by a guard with leveled +ionizer.</p> + +<p>"This gem'man," he started to explain. But Quirl dropped after him and +gave him a powerful shove, so that he crashed into the guard. The +latter pulled the trigger, and the unfortunate pirate crashed over the +platform's edge to the floor. Quirl had out his own electrogun and +dispatched the guard. At the same time he felt a stunning shock. His +senses reeled, but the grating had taken part of the discharge loosed +by a pirate electrician at the foot of the ladder. Quirl threw his +riot club and followed that up with another lightning bolt.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">H</span>e was then the only living person in the room, in which two +generators hummed softly. Connected to them was a bank of U-shaped +tubes, each as tall as a man, which were filled with silent livid +fire. Quirl picked up a wrench and started hammering at the thick +tubes until the glass cracked. Each time he was engulfed by a wave of +heat, and the tube became black. The great generators idled and +automatically came to a stop. Quirl was certain now that the pirate +ship would be visible, but the position of the captives was still +desperate. He hoped that none of the surviving pirates would think of +calling at the generator room, or find out in some other way that they +were now visible in the eternal day of space.</p> + +<p>Quietly he climbed back to the passage and closed the hatch. He cast +about for his next move. He was looking toward the bow, but on hearing +the subdued clink of metal on metal, he turned.</p> + +<p>A dozen of the pirates were coming toward him.</p> + +<p>It would have been useless to draw his weapon. Theirs were out and +could have burned him to a crisp before he could move. Silently and +with deadliness apparent in every move they approached him.</p> + +<p>"Hope they try to capture me alive!" he thought. "What a dog-fight +that'll be!"</p> + +<p>Now they were nearly up to him.</p> + +<p>"Come along, you fool!" barked the leader of the group as they were +all around him. "Sapheads like you'll give the whole game away."</p> + +<p>Quirl could have laughed. This was evidently part of the mutineers' +crew bent on their errand of murder. In the dim light they had taken +him for one of their number. He went with them, meekly.</p> + +<p>"Unlocked!" The leader whom Quirl had not seen before, exclaimed with +satisfaction. He pulled the hatch open softly and the hinges had been +oiled. Quietly as panthers they descended the ladder. They stood at +the bottom. Still another door barred the way. Quirl now realized that +they were attacking the captain's quarters. But the leader produced a +key, and silently swung the door open.</p> + +<p>"So, you dogs! You've come!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">L</span>ike an infuriated bull Captain Strom charged them, a riot club in +each hand. He could have killed them all with a ray, but he chose to +vent in physical action his consuming anger at their treachery, which +he had in some way anticipated. Three or four went sprawling under his +mighty blows. The others sought shelter behind tables and chests, and +began stabbing at him with their electroguns. Electricity crackled, +and the air became pungent with ozone. A pair of the twin rays struck +the captain's gold braid, and he went down. With a triumphant yell a +man dashed at him, murderous club up-raised. But Quirl was faster, and +the pirate fell dead with a crushed skull.</p> + +<p>Strom was up again, fighting beside Quirl. The pirates remaining fell +under their furious blows, and the two dashed out. Strom said nothing, +and Quirl was not sure that he had been recognized. The captain +charged straight for the navigating bow. Here, unless he should be +attacked by the I.F.P. he could still control the situation. He was +perhaps still ignorant of the ship's visibility.</p> + +<p>But Quirl made for the prisoners' hold. They would be cowering there, +probably in darkness, not knowing what was going on. It was his +intention to rally them, provide them with the weapons of the fallen +pirates, and so be in a position to advantageously make terms with +whoever was victorious in this battle.</p> + +<p>He saw, as he approached that the light was on. He was hardly a dozen +feet away when the door was darkened. Quirl did not have to hear her +cry to know that Gore had Lenore.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">R</span>unning with remarkable speed, the mate carried his prize toward the +after end of the tube. A hatch stood open there, and he dropped +through, slamming it after him.</p> + +<p>Quirl picked up a bar that someone had dropped. It was but a matter of +moments to break the lock and pull open the hatch. The hold was +lighted, and empty. In its middle, holding the helpless Lenore, stood +Gore, the electrogun in his hand covering the platform.</p> + +<p>"Boy scout to the rescue again!" Gore sneered. He was even more +repulsive than before, with the marks Quirl had left on him in the +last battle. But he was fearless and utterly reckless. "Well, m'lad, I +know when I'm done. And when a fellow's done he don't care what +happens. So here's the lay: When I get out of here, I'll be dead. And +<i>she'll</i> be dead, or you'll wish she was. Get it? She'll be killed, +too, if you jolt me—the shock'll pass to her. And the first man-jack +who crosses that grating'll get his from me. Now then, go ahead and +pull! Goin' to kill us both, or leave her to me?" He laughed +defiantly, like one who counts himself already dead.</p> + +<p>Quirl tentatively placed one foot on the platform. Instantly a fat +spark jumped from the metal to his foot, and sent him sprawling into +the tube. He saw Strom coming toward him. He had killed his enemies in +the control room and was now on the hunt for more.</p> + +<p>"Thanks for what you did," he grunted. As a forlorn hope, Quirl +explained the situation. Strom smiled a rare smile.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," he said mildly. "Quirl, you're a square man, and +I'd rather do something for a square enemy than a false friend. Oh, I +can do it cheaply. The jig's up for me, anyway!"</p> + +<p>Quickly he dropped through the door and launched himself. Gore saw him +coming, and Strom's body shuddered as the bolt struck squarely. He +was dead when he hit, but his great weight knocked Gore down.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f2">Q</span>uirl had time to jump after him, knocking the wind out of Gore before +he could rise. Lenore picked up Gore's weapon, but dared not use it +for fear of injuring her lover. As the two fighting men circled +warily, seeking openings in this battle that must be fatal to one of +them, they did not see the slight, shadowy figure that dropped down to +them. There was a flash, and Gore slumped, a knife in his back.</p> + +<p>"I done it! I done for him!" chattered Sorko. "The dirty, lousy—"</p> + +<p>"Come, Lenore, let's get up to the bow before the pirates think of +it." They dashed up the ladder. Some more of the disks were out, and +it was nearly dark. Three sinewy forms pounced on Quirl the moment he +entered the passage. The girl, too, was caught, though she fought and +bit.</p> + +<p>"Lights! Let's have some lights!" commanded an authoritative voice.</p> + +<p>"Coming, sir!" came a far-away answer.</p> + +<p>The passage became bright, and Quirl looked into the faces of his +captors, in the uniforms of the I.F.P.</p> + +<p>"Got you, you dirty pirate!" gloated the husky young man on his chest.</p> + +<p>"Mike!" Quirl gasped, "don't you know me? How'd you get here?"</p> + +<p>"Dog-gone! Finner! Leggo his legs, you eggs."</p> + +<p>"Trailed you," he added. "Glommed our magnets on the navigating bow. +Expected a fight, but some big guy let us in through an airlock. Well, +he'd done plenty of scrapping—all the clothes torn off him. Half a +dozen dead pirates in there. Who is he?"</p> + +<p>Quirl thought of the stiffening body of Lieutenant Burroughs, alias +Captain Strom, who had just purchased his life and that of Lenore at +the cost of his own. Was his undeserved shame now to follow him to +his grave? Quirl was no lawyer, and he decided not to take any chances +with the law's mercy. He said:</p> + +<p>"I don't know his name. A prisoner from some other ship, I think. He +was very homesick for Earth, and I'll see he gets a decent grave on +Earth. He died to save me."</p> + +<p>"As for the lady," he added, "let her go. She's a captive. And, +anyway, I think she is the future Mrs. Quirl Finner."</p> + +<p>She smiled, and the men of the Force looked somewhat enviously at +Quirl.</p> + +<p>"Say," Quirl said, taking Lenore's hand and anxious to be rid of them, +"if you find a little monkey-faced guy down in that hold, go easy with +him. He's a good man, too, and I'm going to recommend his pardon."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's In the Orbit of Saturn, by Roman Frederick Starzl + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE ORBIT OF SATURN *** + +***** This file should be named 29038-h.htm or 29038-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/0/3/29038/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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