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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32486-h.zip b/32486-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..25c2e7a --- /dev/null +++ b/32486-h.zip diff --git a/32486-h/32486-h.htm b/32486-h/32486-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..88e5142 --- /dev/null +++ b/32486-h/32486-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3342 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Legion Of Lazarus, by Edmond Hamilton. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Legion of Lazarus, by Edmond Hamilton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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: The Legion of Lazarus + +Author: Edmond Hamilton + +Release Date: May 23, 2010 [EBook #32486] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEGION OF LAZARUS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<h1>The Legion Of Lazarus</h1> + +<h2>By Edmond Hamilton</h2> + +<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination April 1956. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright +on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="sidenote">Being expelled from an air lock into deep space was the legal +method of execution. But it was also the only way a man could qualify +for—The Legion Of Lazarus</div> + + +<p><i>It isn't the dying itself. It's what comes before. The waiting, alone +in a room without windows, trying to think. The opening of the door, the +voices of the men who are going with you but not all the way, the walk +down the corridor to the airlock room, the faces of the men, closed and +impersonal. They do not enjoy this. Neither do they shrink from it. It's +their job.</i></p> + +<p><i>This is the room. It is small and it has a window. Outside there is no +friendly sky, no clouds. There is space, and there is the huge red +circle of Mars filling the sky, looking down like an enormous eye upon +this tiny moon. But you do not look up. You look out.</i></p> + +<p><i>There are men out there. They are quite naked. They sleep upon the +barren plain, drowsing in a timeless ocean. Their bodies are white as +ivory and their hair is loose across their faces. Some of them seem to +smile. They lie, and sleep, and the great red eye looks at them forever +as they are borne around it.</i></p> + +<p>"<i>It isn't so bad," says one of the men who are with you inside this +ultimate room. "Fifty years from now, the rest of us will all be old, or +dead.</i>"</p> + +<p><i>It is small comfort.</i></p> + +<p><i>The one garment you have worn is taken from you and the lock door +opens, and the fear that cannot possibly become greater does become +greater, and then suddenly that terrible crescendo is past. There is no +longer any hope, and you learn that without hope there is little to be +afraid of. You want now only to get it over with.</i></p> + +<p><i>You step forward into the lock.</i></p> + +<p><i>The door behind you shuts. You sense that the one before you is +opening, but there is not much time. The burst of air carries you +forward. Perhaps you scream, but you are now beyond sound, beyond sight, +beyond everything. You do not even feel that it is cold.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>There is a time for sleep, and a time for waking. But Hyrst had slept +heavily, and the waking was hard. He had slept long, and the waking was +slow. <i>Fifty years</i>, said the dim voice of remembrance. But another part +of his mind said, No, it is only tomorrow morning.</p> + +<p>Another part of his mind. That was strange. There seemed to be more +parts to his mind than he remembered having had before, but they were +all confused and hidden behind a veil of mist. Perhaps they were not +really there at all. Perhaps—</p> + +<p><i>Fifty years. I have been dead</i>, he thought, <i>and now I live again. +Half a century. Strange.</i></p> + +<p>Hyrst lay on a narrow bed, in a place of subdued light and +antiseptic-smelling air. There was no one else in the room. There was no +sound.</p> + +<p><i>Fifty years</i>, he thought. <i>What is it like now, the house where I lived +once, the country, the planet? Where are my children, where are my +friends, my enemies, the people I loved, the people I hated?</i></p> + +<p><i>Where is Elena? Where is my wife?</i></p> + +<p>A whisper out of nowhere, sad, remote. <i>Your wife is dead and your +children are old. Forget them. Forget the friends and the enemies.</i></p> + +<p><i>But I can't forget!</i> cried Hyrst silently in the spaces of his own +mind. It was only yesterday—</p> + +<p><i>Fifty years</i>, said the whisper. <i>And you must forget.</i></p> + +<p><i>MacDonald</i>, said Hyrst suddenly. <i>I didn't kill him. I was innocent. I +can't forget that.</i></p> + +<p><i>Careful</i>, said the whisper. <i>Watch out.</i></p> + +<p><i>I didn't kill MacDonald. Somebody did. Somebody let me pay for it. Who? +Was it Landers? Was it Saul? We four were together out there on Titan, +when he died.</i></p> + +<p><i>Careful</i>, Hyrst. <i>They're coming. Listen to me. You think this is your +own mind speaking, question-and-answer. But it isn't.</i></p> + +<p>Hyrst sprang upright on the narrow bed, his heart pounding, the sweat +running cold on his skin. <i>Who are you? Where are you? How—</i></p> + +<p><i>They're here</i>, said the whisper calmly. <i>Be quiet.</i></p> + +<p>Two men came into the ward. "I am Dr. Merridew," said the one in the +white coverall, smiling at Hyrst with a brisk professional smile. "This +is Warden Meister. We didn't mean to startle you. There are a few +questions, before we release you—"</p> + +<p><i>Merridew</i>, said the whisper in Hyrst's mind, <i>is a psychiatrist. Let +me handle this.</i></p> + +<p>Hyrst sat still, his hands lax between his knees, his eyes wide and +fixed in astonishment. He heard the psychiatrist's questions, and he +heard the answers he gave to them, but he was merely an instrument, with +no conscious volition, it was the whisperer in his mind who was +answering. Then the warden shuffled some papers he held in his hand and +asked questions of his own.</p> + +<p>"You underwent the Humane Penalty without admitting your guilt. For the +record, now that the penalty has been paid, do you wish to change your +final statements?"</p> + +<p>The voice in Hyrst's mind, the secret voice, said swiftly to him. <i>Don't +argue with them, don't get angry, or they'll keep you on and on here.</i></p> + +<p>"But—" thought Hyrst.</p> + +<p><i>I know you're innocent, but they'll never believe it. They'll keep you +on for further psychiatric tests. They might get near the truth, +Hyrst—the truth about us.</i></p> + +<p>Suddenly Hyrst began to understand, not all and not clearly, something +of what had happened to him. The obscuring mists began to lift from the +borders of his mind.</p> + +<p>"What is the truth," he asked in that inner quiet, "about us?"</p> + +<p><i>You've spent fifty years in the Valley of the Shadow. You're changed, +Hyrst. You're not quite human any more. No one is, who goes through the +freeze. But they don't know that.</i></p> + +<p>"Then you too—"</p> + +<p><i>Yes. And I too changed. And that is why our minds can speak, even +though I am on Mars and you are on its moon. But they must not know +that. So don't argue, don't show emotion!</i></p> + +<p>The warden was waiting. Hyrst said aloud to him, slowly. "I have no +statement to make."</p> + +<p>The warden did not seem surprised. He went on, "According to your papers +here you also denied knowing the location of the Titanite for which +MacDonald was presumably murdered. Do you still deny that?"</p> + +<p>Hyrst was honestly surprised. "But surely, by now—"</p> + +<p>The warden shrugged. "According to this data, it never came to light."</p> + +<p>"I never knew," said Hyrst, "where it was."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the warden, "I've asked the question and that's as far as +my responsibility goes. But there's a visitor who has permission to see +you."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He and the doctor went out. Hyrst watched them go. He thought, So I'm +not quite human. Not quite human any more. Does that make me more, or +less, than a man?</p> + +<p><i>Both</i>, said the secret voice. <i>Their minds are still closed to you. +Only our minds—we who have changed too—are open.</i></p> + +<p>"Who are you?" asked Hyrst.</p> + +<p><i>My name is Shearing. Now listen. When you are released, they'll bring +you down here to Mars. I'll be waiting for you. I'll help you.</i></p> + +<p>"Why? What do you care about me, or a murder fifty years old?"</p> + +<p><i>I'll tell you why later</i>, said the whisper of Shearing. <i>But you must +follow my guidance. There's danger for you, Hyrst, from the moment +you're released! There are those who have been waiting for you.</i></p> + +<p>"Danger? But—"</p> + +<p>The door opened, and Hyrst's visitor came in. He was a man something +over sixty but the deep lines in his face made him look older. His face +was gray and drawn and twitching, but it became perfectly rigid and +white when he came to the foot of the bed and looked at Hyrst. There was +rage in his eyes, a rage so old and weary that it brought tears to them.</p> + +<p>"You should have stayed dead," he said to Hyrst. "Why couldn't they let +you stay dead?"</p> + +<p>Hyrst was shocked and startled. "Who are you? And why—"</p> + +<p>The other man was not even listening. His eyelids had closed, and when +they opened again they looked on naked agony. "It isn't right," he said. +"A murderer should die, and stay dead. Not come back."</p> + +<p>"I didn't murder MacDonald," Hyrst said, with the beginnings of anger. +"And I don't know why you—"</p> + +<p>He stopped. The white, aging face, the tear-filled, furious eyes, he did +not quite know what there was about them but it was there, like an old +remembered face peeping up through a blur of water for a moment, and +then withdrawing again.</p> + +<p>After a moment, Hyrst said hoarsely, "What's your name?"</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't know it," said the other. "I changed it, long ago."</p> + +<p>Hyrst felt a cold, and it seemed that he could not breathe. He said, +"But you were only eleven—"</p> + +<p>He could not go on. There was a terrible silence between them. He must +break it, he could not let it go on. He must speak. But all he could say +was to whisper, "I'm not a murderer. You must believe it. I'm going to +prove it—"</p> + +<p>"You murdered MacDonald. And you murdered my mother. I watched her age +and die, spending every penny, spending every drop of her blood and +ours, to get you back again. I pretended for fifty years that I too +believed you were innocent, when all the time I knew."</p> + +<p>Hyrst said, "I'm innocent." He tried to say a name, too, but he could +not speak the word.</p> + +<p>"No. You're lying, as you lied then. We found out. Mother hired +detectives, experts. Over and over, for decades—and always they found +the same thing. Landers and Saul could not possibly have killed +MacDonald, and you were the only other human being there. Proof? I can +show you barrels of it. And all of it proof that my father was a +murderer."</p> + +<p>He leaned a little toward Hyrst, and the tears ran down his lined, +careworn face. He said, "All right, you've come back. Alive, still +young. But I'm warning you. If you try again to get that Titanite, if +you shame us all again after all this time, if you even come near us, +I'll kill you."</p> + +<p>He went out. Hyrst sat, looking after him, and he thought that no man +before him had ever felt what tore him now.</p> + +<p>Inside his mind came Shearing's whisper, with a totally unexpected note +of compassion. <i>But some of us have, Hyrst. Welcome to the brotherhood. +Welcome to the Legion of Lazarus.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>Mars roared and glittered tonight. And how was a man to stand the faces +and lights and sounds, when he had come back from the silence of +eternity?</p> + +<p>Hyrst walked through the flaring streets of Syrtis City with slow and +dragging steps. It was like being back on Earth. For this city was not +really part of the old dead planet, of the dark barrens that rolled away +beneath the night. This was the place of the rocket-men, the miners, the +schemers, the workers, who had come from another, younger world. Their +bars and entertainment houses flung a sun-like brilliance. Their ships, +lifting majestically skyward from the distant spaceport, wrote their +flaming sign on the sky. Only here and there moved one of the hooded, +robed humanoids who had once owned this world.</p> + +<p><i>The next corner</i>, said the whisper in Hyrst's mind. <i>Turn there. No, +not toward the spaceport. The other way.</i></p> + +<p>Hyrst thought suddenly, "Shearing."</p> + +<p><i>Yes?</i></p> + +<p>"I am being followed."</p> + +<p>His physical ears heard nothing but the voices and music. His physical +eyes saw only the street crowd. Yet he knew. He knew it by a picture +that kept coming into his mind, of a blurred shape moving always behind +him.</p> + +<p><i>Of course you're being followed</i>, came Shearing's thought. <i>I told you +they've been waiting for you. This is the corner. Turn.</i></p> + +<p>Hyrst turned. It was a darker street, running away from the lights +through black warehouses and on the labyrinthine monolithic houses of +the humanoids.</p> + +<p><i>Now look back</i>, Shearing commanded. <i>No, not with your eyes! With your +mind. Learn to use your talents.</i></p> + +<p>Hyrst tried. The blurred image in his mind came clearer, and clearer +still, and it was a young man with a vicious mouth and flat uncaring +eyes. Hyrst shivered. "Who is he?"</p> + +<p><i>He works for the men who have been waiting for you, Hyrst. Bring him +this way.</i></p> + +<p>"This—way?"</p> + +<p><i>Look ahead. With your mind. Can't you learn?</i></p> + +<p>Stung to sudden anger, Hyrst flung out a mental probe with a power he +hadn't known he possessed. In a place of total darkness between two +warehouses ahead, he saw a tall man lounging at his ease. Shearing +laughed.</p> + +<p><i>Yes, it's me. Just walk past me. Don't hurry.</i></p> + +<p>Hyrst glanced backward, mentally at the man following him through the +shadows. He was closer now, and quite silent. His face was tight and +secret. Hyrst thought, How do I know this Shearing isn't in it with him, +taking me into a place where they can both get at me—</p> + +<p>He went past the two warehouses and he did not turn his head but his +mind saw Shearing waiting in the darkness. Then there was a soft, +shapeless sound, and he turned and saw Shearing bending over a huddled +form.</p> + +<p>"That was unkind of you," said Shearing, speaking aloud but not loudly.</p> + +<p>Hyrst, still shaking, said, "But not exactly strange. I've never seen +you before. And I still don't know what this is all about."</p> + +<p>Shearing smiled, as he knelt beside the prone, unmoving body. Even here +in the shadows, Hyrst could see him with these new eyes of the mind. +Shearing was a big man. His hair was grizzled along the sides of his +head, and his eyes were dark and very keen. He reached out one hand and +turned the head of the prone young man, and they looked at the lax, +loose face.</p> + +<p>"He's not dead?" said Hyrst.</p> + +<p>"Of course not. But it will be a while before he wakes."</p> + +<p>"But who is he?"</p> + +<p>Shearing stood up. "I never saw him before. But I know who he's working +for."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Hyrst flung a sudden question at Shearing, and almost without thinking +he followed it to surprise the answer in Shearing's mind. The question +was, <i>Who are you working for</i>? And the answer was a woman, a tall and +handsome woman with angry eyes, standing against a drift of stars. There +was a ship, all lonely on a dark plain, and she was pointing to it, and +somehow Hyrst knew that it was vitally important to her, and to +Shearing, and perhaps even to himself. But before he could do more than +register this fleeting vision on his own consciousness, Shearing's mind +slammed shut with exactly the same violent effect as a door slammed in +his face. He reeled back, throwing up his arms in a futile but +instinctive gesture, and Shearing said angrily,</p> + +<p>"You're getting too good. I'll give you a social hint—it's customary to +knock before you enter."</p> + +<p>Hyrst said, still holding the pieces of his head together, "All +right—sorry. So who is she?"</p> + +<p>"She's one of us. She wants what we want."</p> + +<p>"I want only to find out who murdered MacDonald!"</p> + +<p>"You want more than that, Hyrst, though you don't know it yet. But +MacDonald's murderer is part of what we're after."</p> + +<p>He took Hyrst's arm. "We don't have long. Thanks to my guidance, you +slipped them all except this one. But they'll be hounding after our +trail very quickly."</p> + +<p>They went on along the shadowed street. The glare of the lights died +back behind them, and they moved in darkness with only the keen stars to +watch them, and the cold, gritty wind blowing in from the barrens, and +the dark door-ways of the mastaba-like monolithic houses of the +humanoids staring at them like sightless eyes. Hyrst looked up at the +bright, tiny moon that crept amid the stars, and a deep shaking took him +as he thought of men lying up there in the deathly sleep, of himself +lying there year after year....</p> + +<p>"In here," said Shearing. It was one of the frigid, musty tombs that the +humanoids called home. It was dark and there was nothing in it at all. +"We can't risk a light. We don't need it, anyway."</p> + +<p>They sat down. Hyrst said desperately, "Listen, I want to know some +things. Exactly what are we doing here?"</p> + +<p>Shearing answered deliberately, "We are hiding from those who want you, +and we are waiting for a chance to go to our friends."</p> + +<p>"Our friends? Your friends, maybe. That woman—I don't know her, and—"</p> + +<p>"Now <i>you</i> listen, Hyrst. I'll tell you this much about us now. We're +Lazarites, like you, with the same powers as you. But all Lazarites are +not on <i>our</i> side."</p> + +<p>Hyrst thought about that. "Then those others who are hunting us—"</p> + +<p>"There are Lazarites among them, too. Not many, but a few. You don't +know us, you don't know them. Do you want to leave me and go back out +and let them have you?"</p> + +<p>Hyrst remembered the adder-like face of the young man who had come after +him through the shadows. After a long moment he said, "Well. But what +are <i>you</i> after?"</p> + +<p>"The thing that MacDonald was killed for, fifty years ago."</p> + +<p>Hyrst said, "The Titanite? They said it hadn't ever been found. But how +it could have remained hidden so long—"</p> + +<p>"I want you," Shearing said, "to tell me all about how MacDonald died. +Everything you can remember."</p> + +<p>Hyrst asked eagerly, "You think we can find out who killed him? After +all this time? God, if we could—my son—"</p> + +<p>"Quiet, Hyrst. Go ahead and tell me. Not in words. Just remember what +happened, and I'll get it."</p> + +<p>Yet, by sheer lifetime habit, Hyrst could not remember without first +putting it into words in his own mind, as they two sat in the cold, +whispering darkness.</p> + +<p>"There were four of us out there on Titan, you must already know that. +And only four—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Four men. And one was named MacDonald, an engineer, a secretive, selfish +and enormously greedy man. MacDonald was the man who found a fortune, +and kept it secret, and died.</p> + +<p>Landers was one. A lean, brown, lively man, an excellent physicist with +a friendly manner and no obvious ambitions.</p> + +<p>Saul was one, and he was big and blond and quiet, a good drinking +companion, a good geologist, a lover of good music. If he had any darker +passions, he kept them hidden.</p> + +<p>Hyrst was the fourth man, and the only one of the four still living....</p> + +<p>He remembered now. He saw the black and bitter crags of Titan stark +against the glory of the Rings, and he saw two figures moving across a +plain of methane snow, their helmets gleaming in the Saturn-light. +Behind them in the plain were the flat, half-buried concrete structures +of the little refinery, and all around them were the spidery roads where +the big half-tracs dragged their loads of uranium ore from the +enchaining mountains.</p> + +<p>The two men were quarrelling.</p> + +<p>"You're angry," MacDonald was saying, "because it was <i>I</i> who found it."</p> + +<p>"Listen," Hyrst said. "We're sick, all three of us, of hearing you brag +about it."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you are," said MacDonald smugly. "The first find of a Titanite +pocket for years. The rarest, costliest stuff in the System. If you know +the way they've been bidding to buy it from me—"</p> + +<p>"I do know," Hyrst said. "You've done nothing for weeks but give forth +mysterious hints—"</p> + +<p>"And you don't like that," MacDonald said. "Of course you don't! It's no +part of our refinery deal, it's mine, I've got it and it's hidden where +nobody can find it till I sell it. Naturally, you don't like that."</p> + +<p>"All <i>right</i>," said Hyrst. "So the Titanite find is all yours. You're +still a partner in the refinery, remember. And you've still got an +obligation to the rest of us, so you can damn well get in and do your +job."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry. I've always done my job."</p> + +<p>"More or less," said Hyrst. "For your information, I've seen better +engineers in grade-school. There's Number Three hoist. It's been busted +for a week. Now let's get in there and fix it."</p> + +<p>The two figures in Hyrst's memory toiled on, out of the area of roads to +the edge of the landing field, where the ships come to take away the +refined uranium. Number Three hoist rose in a stiff, ugly column from +the ground. It was supposed to fetch the uranium up from the +underground storage bins and load it into a specially-built hot-tank +ship in position at the dock. But Number Three had balked and refused to +perform its task. In this completely automated plant, men were only +important when something went wrong. Now something was wrong, and it was +up to MacDonald, the mechanical engineer, and Hyrst, the electronics +man, to set it right.</p> + +<p>Hyrst opened the hatch, and they climbed the metal stairs to the upper +chamber. Number Three's brain was here, its scanners, its tabulating and +recording apparatus, its signal system. A red light pulsated on a panel, +alone in a string of white ones.</p> + +<p>"Trouble's in the hoist-mechanism," said Hyrst. "That's your +department." He smiled and sat down on a metal bench in the center of +the room, with his back to the stair. "D Level."</p> + +<p>MacDonald grumbled, and went to a skeletal cage built over a round +segment of the floor. Various tools were clipped to the ribs of the +cage. MacDonald pulled an extra rayproof protectall over his vac-suit +and stepped inside the cage, pressing a button. The cage dropped, into a +circular shaft that paralleled the hoist right down to the feeder +mechanism.</p> + +<p>Hyrst waited. Inside his helmet he could hear MacDonald breathing and +grumbling as he worked away, repairing a break in the belt. He did not +hear anything else. Then something happened, so swiftly that he had +never had any memory of it, and some time later he came to and looked +for MacDonald. The cage was way down at the bottom of the shaft and +MacDonald was in it, with a very massive pedestal-block on top of him. +The block had been unbolted from the floor and dragged to the edge of +the shaft, and it could not possibly have been an accident that it +tumbled in, between the wide-apart ribs of the cage.</p> + +<p>And that's how MacDonald died, Hyrst thought—and so <i>I</i> died. They said +I forced the secret of his Titanite find out of him, and then killed +him.</p> + +<p>Shearing asked swiftly, "MacDonald never gave you any hint of where he'd +hidden the Titanite?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Hyrst. He paused, and then said, "It's the Titanite you're +after?"</p> + +<p>Shearing answered carefully. "In a way, yes. But <i>we</i> didn't kill +MacDonald for it. Those who did kill him are the men who are after you +now. They're afraid you might lead us to the stuff."</p> + +<p>Hyrst swore, shaking with sudden anger. "Damn it, I won't be treated +like a child. Not by you, by anyone. I want—"</p> + +<p>"You want the men who killed MacDonald," said Shearing. "I know. I +remember what was in your mind when you met your son."</p> + +<p>A weakness took Hyrst and he leaned his forehead against the cold stone +wall.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," said Shearing. "But we want what you want—and more. So +much more that you can't dream it. You must trust us."</p> + +<p>"Us? That woman?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Once again in Shearing's mind Hyrst saw the woman with her head against +the stars, and the ship looming darkly. He saw the woman much more +clearly, and she was like a fire, burning with anger, burning with a +single-minded, dedicated purpose. She was beautiful, and frightening.</p> + +<p>"She, and others," said Shearing. "Listen. We must go soon. We're to be +picked up, secretly. Will you trust us—or would you rather trust +yourself to those who are hunting you?"</p> + +<p>Hyrst was silent. Shearing said, "Well?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go with you," said Hyrst.</p> + +<p>They went out into the cold darkness, and Hyrst heard Shearing say in +his mind, "I wouldn't try to run—"</p> + +<p><i>But it wasn't Shearing speaking in his mind now, it was a third man.</i></p> + +<p>"I wouldn't try to run—"</p> + +<p>Frantically startled, Hyrst threw out his mental vision and saw the men +who stood around them in the darkness, four men, three of them +holding the wicked little weapons called bee-guns in their hands. The +fourth man came closer, a dark slender man with a face like a fox, +high-boned, narrow-eyed, smiling. It came to Hyrst that the three with +weapons were only ordinary men, and that it was this fourth man whose +mind had spoken.</p> + +<p>He was speaking aloud now. "I want you alive, believe me—but there are +endless gradations between alive and dead. My men are very accurate."</p> + +<p>Shearing's face was suddenly drawn and exhausted. "Don't try anything," +he warned Hyrst wearily. "He means it."</p> + +<p>The dark man shook his head at Shearing. "This wasn't nice of you. You +knew we had a particular interest in Mr. Hyrst." He turned to Hyrst and +smiled. His teeth were small and very neat and white. "Did you know that +Shearing has been keeping a shield over your mind as well as his? A +little too large a task for him. When you jarred his mind open for an +instant, it was all we needed to lead us here."</p> + +<p>He went on. "Mr. Hyrst, my name is Vernon. We'd like you to come with +us."</p> + +<p>Vernon nodded to the three accurate men, and the whole little group +began to walk in the direction of the spaceport. Shearing seemed almost +asleep on his feet now. It was as though he had expended all his energy +on a task, and failed at it, and was now quiescent, like an empty well +waiting to fill again.</p> + +<p>"Where are we going?" Hyrst asked, and Vernon answered:</p> + +<p>"To see a gentleman you've never heard of, in a place you've never +been." He added, with easy friendliness, "Don't worry, Mr. Hyrst, we +have nothing against <i>you</i>. You're new to this—ah—state of life. You +shouldn't be asked to make decisions or agreements until you know both +sides of the question. Mr. Shearing was taking an unfair advantage."</p> + +<p>Remembering the dark hard purpose Shearing had let him see in his mind, +Hyrst could not readily dispute that. But he put out an exploring probe +in the direction of Vernon's mind.</p> + +<p>It was shut tight.</p> + +<p>They walked on, toward the spaceport gates.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>All space was before him, hung with the many-colored lights of the +stars, intensely brilliant in the black nothing. It was incredibly +splendid, but it was too much like what he had looked at with his cold +unseeing eyes for fifty years. He looked down—down being relative to +where he was standing in the blister-window—and saw the whole Belt +swarming by under him like a drift of fireflies. He quivered inwardly +with a chill vertigo, and turned away.</p> + +<p>Vernon was talking aloud. He had been talking for some time. He was +stretched out on a soft, deep lounge, smoking, pretending to sip from a +tall glass.</p> + +<p>"So you see, Mr. Hyrst, we can help you a lot. It's not easy for a +Lazarite—for one of us—to get a job. I know. People have a—well, a +<i>feeling</i>. Now Mr. Bellaver—"</p> + +<p>"Where is Shearing?" asked Hyrst. He came and stood in the center of the +room, with the soft lights in his eyes and the soft carpets under his +feet. His mind reached out, uneasy and restless, but it seemed to be +surrounded by a zone of fog that tangled and confused and deflected it. +He could not find Shearing.</p> + +<p>"We've been here for hours," he said. "Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Probably talking a deal with Mr. Bellaver. I wouldn't worry. As I was +saying, Bellaver Incorporated is interested in men like you. We're the +largest builders of spacecraft in the System, and we can afford—"</p> + +<p>"I know all about it," said Hyrst impatiently. "Old Quentin Bellaver +was busy swallowing up his rivals when I went through the door."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Vernon imperturbably, "you should realize how much we can +do for you. Electronics is a vital branch—"</p> + +<p>Hyrst moved erratically around the room, looking at things and not +really seeing them, hearing Vernon's voice but not understanding what it +said. He was growing more and more uneasy. It was as though someone was +calling to him, urgently, but just out of earshot. He kept straining, +with his ears and his mind, and Vernon's voice babbled on, and the +barrier was like a wall around his thoughts.</p> + +<p>They had been aboard this ship for a long time now, and he had not seen +Shearing since they came through the hatch. It was not really a ship, of +course. It had no power of its own, depending on powerful tugs to tow +it. It was Walter Bellaver's floating pleasure-palace, and the damnedest +thing Hyrst had ever seen. Vernon said it could and often did accommodate +three or four hundred guests in the utmost luxury. There was nobody +aboard it now but Bellaver, Vernon, Hyrst and Shearing, the three very +accurate men, and perhaps a dozen others including stewards and the +crews of the tugs and Bellaver's yacht. It was named the <i>Happy Dream</i>, +and it was presently drifting in an excessively lonely orbit high above +the ecliptic, between nothing and nowhere.</p> + +<p>Vernon had been with him almost constantly. He was getting tired of +Vernon. Vernon talked too much.</p> + +<p>"Listen," he said. "You can stop selling Bellaver. I'm not looking for a +job. Where's Shearing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, forget Shearing," said Vernon, impatient in his turn. "You never +heard of him until a few days ago."</p> + +<p>"He helped me."</p> + +<p>"For reasons of his own."</p> + +<p>"What's <i>your</i> reason? And Bellaver's?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bellaver is interested in all social problems. And I'm a Lazarite +myself, so naturally I have a sympathy for others like me." Vernon sat +up, putting his glass aside on a low table. He had drunk hardly any of +the contents.</p> + +<p>"Shearing," he said, "is a member of a gang who some time ago stole a +particular property of Bellaver Incorporated. You're not involved in the +quarrel, Mr. Hyrst. I'd advise you, as a friend, to stay not involved."</p> + +<p>Hyrst's mind and his ears were stretched and quivering, straining to +hear a cry for help just a little too far away.</p> + +<p>"What kind of a property?" asked Hyrst.</p> + +<p>Vernon shrugged. "The Bellavers have never said what kind, for fairly +obvious reasons."</p> + +<p>"Something to do with ships?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so. It isn't important to me. Nor to you, Mr. Hyrst."</p> + +<p>"Will you pour me a drink?" said Hyrst, pointing to the cellaret close +beside Vernon. "Yes, that's fine. How long ago?"</p> + +<p>"What?" asked Vernon, measuring whisky into a glass.</p> + +<p>"The theft," said Hyrst, and threw his mind suddenly against the +barrier. For one fleeting second he forced a crack in it. "Something +over fifty—", said Vernon, and let the glass fall. He spun around from +the cellaret and was halfway to his feet when Hyrst hit him. He hit him +three or four times before he would stay down, and three or four more +before he would lie quiet. Hyrst straightened up, breathing hard. His +lip was bleeding and he wiped it with the back of his hand. "That was a +little too big a job for <i>you</i>, Mr. Vernon," he said viciously. "Trying +to keep my mind blanked and under control for hours." He stuffed a +handkerchief into Vernon's mouth, and tied him up with his own +cummerbund, and shoved him out of sight behind an enormous bed. Then he +opened the door carefully, and went out.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There was nobody in the corridor. This was wide and ornate, with doors +opening off it, and nothing to show what was behind them or which way to +go. Hyrst stood still a minute, getting control of himself. The barrier +no longer obscured his mind. He let it rove, finding that every time he +did that it was easier, and the images clearer. He heard Shearing again, +as he had heard him in that one second when Vernon's guard had faltered. +His face became set and ugly. He began to move toward the stern of the +<i>Happy Dream</i>.</p> + +<p>Heavy metal-cloth curtains closed this end of the corridor. Beyond them +was a ballroom in which only one dim light now burned, a vastness of +black polished floors and crystal windows looking upon space. Hyrst's +footsteps were hushed and swallowed up in whispering echoes. He made his +way across to another set of curtains, edged between them with infinite +caution, and found himself in the upper aisle of an amphitheater.</p> + +<p>It was pitch dark where he was, and he stood perfectly still, exploring +with his mind. He could not see any guards. The rows of empty seats were +arranged in circles around a central pit, large enough for any +entertainment Mr. Bellaver might decide to give. The pit was brilliantly +lighted, and from somewhere lower down came the intermittent sound of +voices.</p> + +<p>Also from the pit came Shearing's cries. Hyrst began to tremble with +outrage and anger, and his still-uncertain mental control faltered +dangerously. Then from out of nowhere, a voice spoke in his mind, and he +saw the face of the woman he had seen twice before, the woman Shearing +served.</p> + +<p>"Careful," she said. "There is a Lazarite with Bellaver. His attention +is all on Shearing, but you must keep your mind shielded. I'll help +you."</p> + +<p>Hyrst whispered. "Thanks." He felt calm now, alert and capable. He crept +along the dark aisle, toward the pit.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bellaver's theater lacked nothing. The large circular stage area was +fitted with upper and lower electro-magnets for the use of acrobats and +dancers with null-grav specialties. They could perform without +disturbing the regular grav-field of the <i>Happy Dream</i>, thus keeping the +guests comfortable, and by skillful manipulation of the magnetic fields +more spectacular stunts were possible than in ordinary no-gravity.</p> + +<p>Shearing was in the pit, between the upper and lower magnets. He wore an +acrobat's metal attraction-harness, strapped on over his clothes. When +Hyrst looked over the rail he was hanging at the central point of +weightlessness, where everything in a man floats free and his senses are +lost in a dreadful vertigo unless he has been conditioned over a long +period of time to get used to it. Shearing had not been conditioned.</p> + +<p>"Careful," said the woman's warning voice in his mind. "His life depends +on you. No, don't try to make contact with him! The Lazarite would sense +you—"</p> + +<p>Shearing began a slow ascension toward the upper magnet as the current +was increased, from some unseen control board. He moved convulsively +turning horizontally around the axis of his own middle like a toy spun +on a string. His back was uppermost, and Hyrst could not see his face.</p> + +<p>"Bellaver and the Lazarite," said the woman quietly, "are trying to +learn from Shearing where our ship is. He has been able so far to keep +his mind shielded. He is—a very brave man. But you'll have to hurry. +He's near the breaking point."</p> + +<p>Shearing was now almost level with Hyrst, suspended over that open pit, +looking down, a long way.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to be quick, Hyrst. Please. Please get him out of there +before we have to kill him."</p> + +<p>The current in the magnet was cut and Shearing fell, with a long +neighing scream.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Hyrst looked down. The repelling force of the lower magnet cushioned the +fall, and the upper magnet took hold, hard. Shearing stopped about three +feet above the stage floor and started slowly to rise again. He seemed +to be crying. Hyrst turned and ran back to the top of the aisle. Halfway +around the circle he found steps and went tearing down them. On the next +level—there were three—he saw two men leaning over the broad rail, +watching Shearing.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there they are. You must find a weapon—"</p> + +<p>Hyrst looked around, blinking like a mole in the dark. Seats, nothing +but seats. Ornamentation, but all solid. Small metal cylinder, set in a +wall niche. Chemical extinguisher. Yes. Compact and heavy. He took it.</p> + +<p>"Hurry. He's almost through—"</p> + +<p>The two men were tense and hungry, eager as wolves. One was the +Lazarite, a grey man, old and seamed with living and none of it good. +The other was Bellaver, and he was young. He was tall and fresh-faced, +impeccably shaven, impeccably dressed, the keen, clean, public-spirited +executive.</p> + +<p>"I can give you more if you want it, Shearing," Bellaver said, his +fingers ready on a control-plate set into the broad rail. "How about +it?"</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Bellaver," whispered the Lazarite aloud. "I've almost got it. +Almost—" His face was agonized with concentration.</p> + +<p>"<i>Now!</i>"</p> + +<p>The woman's voiceless cry in his mind sent Hyrst forward. His hand swung +up and then down in a crashing arc, elongated by the heavy cylinder. The +Lazarite fell without a sound. He fell across Bellaver, pushing him back +from the control-plate, and lay over his feet, bleeding gently into the +thick pile of the carpet. Bellaver's mouth and eyes opened wide. He +looked at the Lazarite and then at Hyrst. He leaped backward, away from +the encumbrance at his ankles, making the first hoarse effort at a shout +for help. Hyrst did not give him time to finish it. The first row of +seats caught Bellaver and threw him, and Hyrst swung the cylinder again. +Bellaver collapsed.</p> + +<p>"Was I in time?" Hyrst asked of the woman, in his mind. He thought she +was crying when she answered, "Yes." He smiled. He stepped over the +Lazarite and went to the control-plate and began to work with it until +he had Shearing safely on the floor of the stage. Then he cut the power +and ran down another flight of steps to the bottom level. His mind was +able to range free now. He could not sense anyone close at hand. +Bellaver seemed to have sent underlings elsewhere in the <i>Happy Dream</i> +while he worked on Shearing. It was nothing for which a man would seek +witnesses. Hyrst vaulted the rail onto the stage and dragged Shearing +away from the magnet. He felt uncomfortable in all that glare of light. +He hauled and grunted until he got Shearing over the rail into the dark. +Then he wrestled the harness off him. Shearing sobbed feebly, and +retched.</p> + +<p>"Can you stand up?" said Hyrst. "Hey. Shearing." He shook him, hard. +"Stand up."</p> + +<p>He got Shearing up, a one-hundred-and-ninety pound rag doll draped over +his shoulders. He began to walk him out of the theater. "Are you still +there?" he asked of the woman.</p> + +<p>The answer came into his mind swiftly. "Yes. I'll help you watch. Do you +see where the skiff is?"</p> + +<p>It was in a pod under the belly of the <i>Happy Dream</i>. "I see it," said +Hyrst.</p> + +<p>"Take that. Bellaver's yacht is faster, but you'd need the crew. The +skiff you can handle yourself."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He walked Shearing into a fore-and-aft corridor. Shearing's feet were +beginning to move of their own accord, and he had stopped retching. But +his eyes were still blank and he staggered aimlessly. Hyrst's nerves +were prickling with a mixture of fierce satisfaction and fear. Far above +in the lush suite he felt Vernon stir and come to. There were men +somewhere closer, quite close. He forced his mind to see. Two of the +very accurate men who had been with Vernon were playing cards with two +others who were apparently stewards. The third one lolled in a chair, +smoking. All five were in a lounge just around the corner of a +transverse corridor. The door was open.</p> + +<p>Without realizing that he had done so, Hyrst took control of Shearing's +mind. "Steady, now. We're going past that corner without a sound. You +hear me, Shearing? Not a sound."</p> + +<p>Shearing's eyes flickered vaguely. He frowned, and his step became +steadier. The floor of the corridor was covered in a tough resilient +plastic that deadened footsteps. They passed the corner. The men +continued to play cards. Hyrst sent up a derisive insult to Vernon and +told Shearing to hurry a little. The stair leading down into the pod was +just ahead, ten yards, five—</p> + +<p>A man appeared in the corridor ahead, coming from some storeroom with a +rack of plastic bottles in his hand.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to run now," came the woman's thought, coolly. "Don't +panic. You can still make it."</p> + +<p>The man with the bottles yelled. He began to run toward Hyrst and +Shearing, dropping the rack to leave his hands free. In the loungeroom +behind them the card-party broke up. Hyrst took Shearing by the arm and +clamped down even tighter on his mind, giving him a single command. They +ran together, fast.</p> + +<p>The men from the lounge poured out into the main corridor. Their voices +were confused and very loud. Ahead, the man who had been bringing the +bottles was now between Hyrst and the stair. He was a brown, hard man +who looked like a pilot. He said, "You better stop," and then he +grappled with Hyrst and Shearing. The three of them spun around in a +clumsy dance, Shearing moving like an automaton. Hyrst and the pilot +flailing away with their fists, and then the pilot fell back hard on the +seat of his pants, with the blood bursting out of his nose and his eyes +glazing. Hyrst raced for the stair, propelling Shearing. They tumbled +down it with a shot from a bee-gun buzzing over their heads. It was a +short stair with a double-hatch door at the bottom. They fell through +it, and Hyrst slammed it shut almost on the toes of a man coming down +the stair behind them. The automatic lock took hold. Hyrst told +Shearing, "You can stop now."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, from the great swag belly of the <i>Happy Dream</i>, a +small space-skiff shot away and was quickly lost in the star-shot +immensity above the Belt.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>It did not stay lost for long. Shearing was at the controls. The +chronometer showed fourteen hours and twenty-seven minutes since they +left the <i>Happy Dream</i>. Shearing had spent eight of those hours in a +species of comatose slumber, from which he had roused out practically +normal. Now Hyrst was heavily asleep in the pneumo-chair beside him.</p> + +<p>Shearing punched him. "Wake up."</p> + +<p>After several more punches Hyrst groaned and opened his eyes. He mumbled +a question, and Shearing pointed out the wide curved port that gave full +vision forward and on both sides.</p> + +<p>"It was a good try," he said, "but I don't think we're going to make it. +Look there. No, farther back. See it? Now the other side. And there's +one astern."</p> + +<p>Still sleepy, but alarmed, Hyrst swung his mental vision around. It was +easier than looking. Two fast, powerful tugs from the <i>Happy Dream</i>, and +Bellaver's yacht. He frowned in heavy concentration. "Bellaver's aboard. +He's got a mighty goose-egg on his head. Vernon too, with his shields up +tight. The three accurate men and the pilot—his nose is a thing of +beauty—plus crew. Nine in all. Two men each to the tugs. The other +Lazarite, the one I laid out—he's not along."</p> + +<p>Shearing nodded approvingly. "You're getting good. Now take a glance at +our fuel-tanks and tell me what you see."</p> + +<p>Hyrst sat up straight, fully awake. "Practically," he said, "nothing."</p> + +<p>"This skiff was meant for short hops only. We've got enough for perhaps +another forty-five minutes, less if we get too involved. They're faster +than we are, so they'll catch up to us—oh, say in about half an hour. +We have friends coming—"</p> + +<p>"Friends?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. You don't think we let each other down, do you? Not the +brotherhood. But they had to come from a long way off. We can't possibly +rendezvous under an hour and a half, maybe more if—"</p> + +<p>"I know," said Hyrst. "If we all get involved." He looked out the port. +In the beginning, following directions from the young woman—whose name +he had never thought to ask—he had set a course that plunged him deep +into one of the wildest sectors of the Belt. He was not a pilot. He +could, like most men of his time, handle a simple craft under simple +conditions, but these conditions were not simple. The skiff's radar was +short-range and it had no automatic deflection reflexes. Hyrst had had +to fly on ESP, spotting meteor swarms, asteroids, debris of all sorts in +this poetically named hell-hole, the Path of Minor Worlds, and then +figuring out how to get by, through, or over them without a crash. +Shearing had relieved him just in time.</p> + +<p>He glowered at the whirling, glittering mess outside, the dust, the +shards and fragments of a shattered world. It merged into mist and his +mind was roving again. Shearing jockeyed the controls. He was flying +esper too. The tugs and Bellaver's fast yacht were closing up the gap. +The level in the tanks went down, used up not in free fall but in the +constant maneuvering.</p> + +<p>Hyrst swung mentally inboard to check vac-suits and equipment in the +locker, and then out again. His vision was strong and free. He could +look at the Sun, and see the splendid fires of the corona. He could look +at Mars, old and cold and dried-up, and at Jupiter, massive and sullen +and totally useless except as an anchor for its family of crazy moons. +He could look farther than that. He could look at the stars. In a little +while, he thought, he could look at whole galaxies. His heart pounded +and the breath came hot and hard into his lungs. It was a good feeling. +It made all that had gone before almost worthwhile. The primal +immensities drew him, the black gulfs lit with gold and crimson and +peacock-colored flames. He wanted to go farther and farther, into—</p> + +<p>"You're learning too fast," said Shearing dryly. "Stick to something +small and close and sordid, namely an asteroid where we can land."</p> + +<p>"I found one," said Hyrst. "There."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Shearing followed his mental nudge. "Hell," he said, "couldn't you have +spotted something better? These Valhallas give me the creeps."</p> + +<p>"The others within reach are too small, or there's no cover. We'll have +quite a little time to wait. I take it you would like to be alive when +your friends come."</p> + +<p>Vernon's thought broke in on them abruptly. "You have just one chance of +that, and that's to give yourselves up, right now."</p> + +<p>"Does the socially-conscious Mr. Bellaver still want to give me that +job?" asked Hyrst.</p> + +<p>"I'm warning you," said Vernon.</p> + +<p>"Your mind is full of hate," said Hyrst. "Cleanse it." He shut Vernon +out as easily as hanging up a phone. Under stress, his new powers were +developing rapidly. He felt a little drunk with them. Shearing said, +"Don't get above yourself, boy. You're still a cub, you know." Then he +grinned briefly and added, "By the way, thanks."</p> + +<p>Hyrst said, "I owed it to you. And you can thank your lady friend, too. +She had a big hand in it."</p> + +<p>"Christina," said Shearing softly. "Yes."</p> + +<p>He dropped the skiff sharply in a descending curve, toward the asteroid.</p> + +<p>"Do you think," said Hyrst, "you could now tell me what the devil this +is all about?"</p> + +<p>Shearing said, "We've got a starship."</p> + +<p>Hyrst stared. For a long time he didn't say anything. Then, "You've got +a starship? But nobody has! People talk of someday reaching other stars, +but nobody tried yet, nobody <i>could</i> try—" He broke off, suddenly +remembering a dark, lonely ship, and a woman with angry eyes watching +it. Even in his astonishment, things began to come clearer to him. "So +that's it—a starship. And Bellaver wants it?"</p> + +<p>Shearing nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Hyrst. "Go on."</p> + +<p>"You've already developed some amazing mental capabilities since you +came back from beyond the door. You'll find that's only the beginning. +The radiation, the exposure—something. The simple act of pseudo-death, +perhaps. Anyway, the brain is altered, stepped up, a great deal of its +normally unused potential released. You've always been a +fair-to-middling technician. You'll find your rating boosted, +eventually, to the genius level."</p> + +<p>The skiff veered wildly as Shearing dodged a whizzing chunk of rock the +size of a skyscraper.</p> + +<p>"That's one reason," he said, "why we wanted to get you before Bellaver +did. The number of technicians undergoing the Humane Penalty is quite +small. We—the brotherhood—need all of them we can get."</p> + +<p>"But that wasn't the main reason you wanted me?" pressed Hyrst.</p> + +<p>Shearing looked at him. "No. We wanted you mainly because you were +present when MacDonald died. Handled right—"</p> + +<p>He paused. The asteroid was rushing at them, and Bellaver's ships were +close behind. Hyrst was already in a vac-suit, all but the helmet.</p> + +<p>"Take the controls," said Shearing. "As she goes. Don't worry, I'll make +the landing." He pulled the vac-suit on. "Handled right," he said, "you +might be the key to that murder, and to the mystery behind it that the +brotherhood <i>must</i> solve."</p> + +<p>He took the controls again. They helped each other on with their +helmets. The asteroid filled the port, a wild, weird jumble of +vari-colored rock.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how," said Hyrst, into his helmet mike.</p> + +<p>"Latent impressions," answered Shearing briefly, and sent the skiff +skittering in between two great black monoliths, to settle with a jar on +a pan of rock as smooth and naked as a ballroom floor.</p> + +<p>"Make it fast," said Shearing. "They're right on top of us."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The skiff, designed as Sheering had said for short hops, could not +accommodate the extra weight and bulk of an airlock. You were supposed +to land in atmosphere. If you didn't, you just pushed a release-button +and hung on. The air was exhausted in one whistling swoosh that took +with it everything loose. The moisture in it crystallized instantly, and +before this frozen drift had even begun to settle, Hyrst and Shearing +were on their way.</p> + +<p>They crossed the rock pan in great swaggering bounds. The gravity was +light, the horizon only twenty or so miles away. Literally in his mind's +eye Hyrst could see the three ships arrowing at them. He opened contact +with Vernon, knowing Shearing had done so too. Vernon had been looking +for them.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bellaver still prefers to have you alive," he said. "If you'll wait +quietly beside the skiff, we'll take you aboard."</p> + +<p>Shearing gave him a hard answer.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Vernon. "Mr. Bellaver wants me to make it clear to you +that he doesn't intend for you to get away. So you can interpret that as +you please. Be seeing you."</p> + +<p>He broke contact, knowing that Hyrst and Shearing would close him out. +From now on, Hyrst realized, he would keep track of them the way he and +Shearing had kept track of obstructions in the path of flight, by mental +"sight". The yacht was extremely close. Suddenly Hyrst had a confused +glimpse of a hand on a control-lever over-lapped by a view of the +black-mouthed tubes of the yacht's belly-jets. He dived, literally, into +a crack between one of the monoliths and a slab that leaned against its +base, dragging Shearing with him.</p> + +<p>The yacht swept over. Nothing happened. It dropped out of sight, braking +for a landing.</p> + +<p>"Imagination," said Shearing. "You realize a possibility, and you think +it's so. Tricky. But I don't blame you. The safe side is the best one."</p> + +<p>Hyrst looked out the crack. One of the tugs was coming in to land beside +the skiff, while the other one circled.</p> + +<p>"Now what?" he said. "I suppose we can dodge them for a while, but we +can't hide from Vernon."</p> + +<p>Shearing chuckled. He had got his look of tough competence back. He +seemed almost to be enjoying himself. "I told you you were only a cub. +How do you suppose we've kept the starship hidden all these years? +Watch."</p> + +<p>In the flick of a second Hyrst went blind and deaf. Then he realized +that it was only his mental eyes and ears that were blanked out as +though a curtain had been drawn across them. His physical eyes were +still clear and sharp, and when Shearing's voice came over the helmet +audio he heard it without trouble.</p> + +<p>"This is called the cloak. I suppose you could call it an extension of +the shield, though it's more like a force field. It's no bar to physical +vision, and it has the one great disadvantage of being opaque both ways +to mental energy. But it does act as a deflector. If Vernon follows us +now, he'll have to do it the hard way. Stick close by me, so I don't +have too wide a spread. And it'll be up to you to lead. I can't do both. +Let's go."</p> + +<p>Hyrst had, unconsciously, become so used to his new perceptions that it +made him feel dull and helpless to be without them. He led off down one +of the smooth rock avenues, going away from the skiff and the tug which +had just landed.</p> + +<p>On either side of the avenue were monoliths, irregularly spaced and of +different sizes and heights but following an apparently orderly plan. +The light of the distant sun lay raw and blinding on them, casting +shadows as black and sharp-edged as though drawn upon the rock with +india ink.</p> + +<p>You could see faces in the monoliths. You could see mighty outlines, +singly and in groups, of gods and beasts and men, in combat, in +suppliance, in death and burial. That was why these asteroids were +called Valhallas. Twenty-six of them had been found so far, and studied, +and still no one could say certainly whether or not the hands of any +living beings had fashioned them. They might be actual monuments, +defaced by cosmic dust, by collision with the myriad fragments of the +Belt, by time. They might be one of Nature's casual jokes, created by +the same agencies. No actual tombs had been found, nor tools, nor +definitely identifiable artifacts. But still the feeling persisted, in +the airless silence of the avenues, that some passing race had paused +and wrought for itself a memorial more enduring than its fame, and then +gone on into the great galactic sea, never to return.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Hyrst had never been on a Valhalla before. He understood why Shearing +had not wanted to land and he wished now that they hadn't. There was +something overwhelmingly sad and awesome about these leaning, towering +figures of stone, moving forever in their lonely orbit, going nowhere, +returning to nowhere.</p> + +<p>Then he saw the second tug overhead. He forgot his daydreams. "They're +going to act as a spotter," he said. Shearing grunted but did not speak. +His whole mind was concentrated on maintaining the cloak. Hyrst stopped +him still in the pitchy shadow under what might have been a kneeling +woman sixty feet high. He watched the tug. It lazed away, circling +slowly, and he did not think it had seen them. He could not any longer +see the place where they had landed, but he assumed that by now the +yacht had looped back and come in—if not there somewhere close by. They +could figure on nine to eleven men hunting them, depending on whether +they left the ships guarded or not. Either way, it was too many.</p> + +<p>"Listen," he said aloud to Shearing. "Listen, I want to ask you. What +you said about latent impressions—you think I might have seen and heard +the killer even though I was unconscious?"</p> + +<p>"Especially heard. Possible. With your increased power, and ours, +impressions received through sense-channels but not recognized at the +time or remembered later might be recovered." He shook his head. "Don't +bother me."</p> + +<p>"I just wanted to know," said Hyrst. He thought of his son, and the two +daughters he hoped he would never see. He thought of Elena. It was too +late to do anything for her, but the others were still living. So was +he, and he intended to stay that way, at least until he had done what he +set out to do.</p> + +<p>"Old Bellaver was behind that killing, wasn't he? Old Quentin, this +one's grandfather."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Don't bother me."</p> + +<p>"One thing more. Do we Lazarites live longer than men?"</p> + +<p>Shearing gave him a curious, brief look. "Yes."</p> + +<p>The tug was out of sight behind a massive rearing shape that seemed to +clutch a broken ship between its paws. Symbolic, perhaps, of space? Who +knew? Hyrst led Shearing in wild impala-like leaps across an open space, +and into a narrow way that twisted, filled with darkness, among the +bases of a group that resembled an outlandish procession following a +king.</p> + +<p>"How much longer?"</p> + +<p>"Humane Penalty first came in a hundred and fourteen years ago, right? +After Seitz' method was perfected for saving spacemen. I was one of the +first they used it on."</p> + +<p>"My God," said Hyrst. Yet, somehow, he was not as surprised as he might +have been.</p> + +<p>"I've aged," said Shearing apologetically. "I was only twenty-seven +then."</p> + +<p>They crouched, beside a humped shape like a gigantic lizard with a long +tail. The tug swung overhead and slowly on.</p> + +<p>Hyrst said, "Then it's possible the one who killed MacDonald is still +alive?"</p> + +<p>"Possible. Probable."</p> + +<p>Hyrst bared his teeth, in what was not at all like a smile. "Good," he +said. "That makes me happy."</p> + +<p>They did not do any talking after that. They had had their helmet radios +operating on practically no power at all, so that they couldn't be +picked up outside a radius of a few yards, but even that might be too +close, now that Bellaver's men had had time to get suited and fan out. +They shut them off entirely, communicating by yanks and nudges.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>For what seemed to Hyrst like a very long time, but which was probably +less than half an hour in measured minutes, they dodged from one patch +of shadow to another, following an erratic course that Hyrst thought +would lead them away from the ships. Once more the tug went over, slow, +and then Hyrst didn't see it again. The idea that they might have given +up occurred to him but he dismissed it as absurd. With the helmet mike +shut off, the silence was beginning to get on his nerves. Once he looked +up and saw a piece of cosmic debris smash into a monolith. Dust and +splinters flew, and a great fragment broke off and fell slowly downward, +bumping and rebounding, and all of it as soundless as a dream. You +couldn't hear yourself walk, you couldn't hear anything but the roar of +your own breathing and the pounding of your own blood. The grotesque +rocky avenues could hide an army, stealthy, creeping—</p> + +<p>There was a hill, or at least a higher eminence, crowned with what might +have been the cyclopean image of a man stretched out on a noble +catafalque, with hooded giants standing by in attitudes of mourning. It +seemed like the best place to stop that Hyrst had seen, with plenty of +cover and a view of the surrounding area. With luck, you might stay +hidden there a long time. He jogged Shearing's elbow and pointed, and +Shearing nodded. There was a wide, almost circular sweep of open rock +around the base of the hill. Hyrst looked carefully for the tug. There +was no sign of it. He tore out across the open, with Shearing at his +heels.</p> + +<p>The tug swooped over, going fast this time. It could not possibly have +missed them. Shearing dropped the cloak with a grunt. "No use for that +any more," he said. They bounded up the hillside and in among the +mourning figures. The tug whipped around in a tight spiral and hung over +the hill. Hyrst shook the sweat out of his eyes. His mind was clear +again. The tug's skipper was babbling into his communicator, and in +another place on the asteroid Hyrst could mentally see a thin skirmish +line spread out, and in still another four men in a bunch. They all +picked up and began to move, toward the hill.</p> + +<p>Shearing said, nodding spaceward, "Our friends are on the way. If we can +hold out—"</p> + +<p>"Fat chance," said Hyrst. "They're armed, and all we've got is +flare-pistols." But he looked around. His eyes detected nothing but +rock, hard sunlight, and deep shadow, but his mind saw that one of the +black blots at the base of the main block, the catafalque, was more than +a shadow. He slid into a crack that resembled a passage, being rounded +rather than ragged. Shearing was right behind him. "I don't like this," +he said, "but I suppose there's no help for it."</p> + +<p>The crack led down into a cave, or chamber, too irregularly shaped to be +artificial, too smoothly surfaced and floored to be natural. There was +nothing in it but a block of stone, nine feet or so long and about four +feet wide by five feet high. It seemed to be a natural part of the +floor, but Hyrst avoided it. On the opposite, the sunward side, there +was a small windowlike aperture that admitted a ray of blinding +radiance, sharply defined and doing nothing to illumine the dark on +either side of it.</p> + +<p>Vernon's thought came to them, hard, triumphant, peremptory. "Mr. +Bellaver says you have ten minutes to come out. After that, no mercy."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>The minutes slid past, sections of eternity arbitrarily measured by the +standards of another planet and having no relevance at all on this tiny +whirling rock. The beam of light from the small aperture moved visibly +across the opposite wall. Hyrst watched it, blinking. Outside, +Bellaver's men were drawn up in a wide crescent across the hill in front +of the catafalque. They waited.</p> + +<p>"No mercy," said Hyrst softly. "No mercy, is it?" He bent over and began +to loosen the clamps that held the lead weights to the soles of his +boots.</p> + +<p>"It isn't mercy we need," said Shearing. "It's time."</p> + +<p>"How much?"</p> + +<p>"Look for yourself."</p> + +<p>Hyrst shifted his attention to space. There was a ship in it, heading +toward the asteroid, and coming fast. Hyrst frowned, doing in his head +without thinking about it a calculation that would have required a +computer in his former life.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds," he said, "inclusive of the +four remaining."</p> + +<p>He finished getting the weights off his boots. He handed one to +Shearing. Then he half-climbed, half-floated up the wall and settled +himself above the entrance, where there was a slight concavity in the +rock to give him hold.</p> + +<p>"Shearing," he said.</p> + +<p>"What?" He was settling himself beside the mouth of the crack, where a +man would have to come clear inside to get a shot at him.</p> + +<p>"A starship implies the intention to go to the stars. Why haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"For the simplest reason in the world," said Shearing bitterly. "The +damn thing can't fly."</p> + +<p>"But—" said Hyrst, in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"It isn't finished. It's been building for over seventy years now, and a +long and painful process that's been, too, Hyrst—doing it bit by bit in +secret, and every bit having to be dreamed up out of whole cloth, and +often discarded and dreamed up again, because the principle of a +workable star-drive has never been formulated before. And it still isn't +finished. It can't be finished, unless—"</p> + +<p>He stopped, and both men turned their attention to the outside.</p> + +<p>"Bellaver's looking at his chrono," said Hyrst. "Go ahead, we've got a +minute."</p> + +<p>Shearing continued, "unless we can get hold of enough Titanite to build +the hyper-shift relays. Nothing else has a fast enough reaction time, +and the necessary load-capacity. We must have burned out a thousand +different test-boards, trying."</p> + +<p>"Can't you buy it?" asked Hyrst. The question sounded reasonable, but he +knew as he said it that it was a foolish one. "I mean, I know the stuff +is scarcer than virtue and worth astronomical sums—that's what +MacDonald was so happy about—but—"</p> + +<p>"The Bellaver Corporation had a corner on the stuff before our ship was +even thought of. That's what brought this whole damned mess about. Some +of our people—not saying why they wanted it, of course—tried to buy +some from Bellaver in the usual way, and one of them must have been +incautious about his shield. Because a Lazarite working for Bellaver +caught a mental hint of the starship, and the reason for the Titanite, +and that was it. Three generations of Bellavers have been after us for +the star-drive, and it's developed into a secret war as bitter as any +ever fought on the battlefield. They hold all the Titanite, we hold the +ship, and perhaps now you're beginning to see why MacDonald was killed, +and why you're so important to both sides."</p> + +<p>"Beginning to," said Hyrst. "But only beginning."</p> + +<p>"MacDonald found a Titanite pocket. And as you know, a Titanite pocket +isn't very big. One man can break the crude stuff, fill a sack with it, +and tote it on his own back if he doesn't have a power-sled."</p> + +<p>"MacDonald had a sled."</p> + +<p>"And he used it. He cleaned out his pocket, afraid somebody else would +track him to it, and he hid the wretched ore somewhere. Then he began to +dicker. He approached the Bellaver Corporation, and we heard of it and +approached <i>him</i>. He tried playing us off against Bellaver to boost the +price, and suddenly he was dead and you were accused of his murder. We +thought you really had done it, because no Titanite turned up, and we +knew Bellaver hadn't gotten it from him. We'd watched too closely. It +wasn't until some years later that one of our people learned that +MacDonald had threatened a little too loudly to sell to us unless +Bellaver practically tripled his offer—and of course Bellaver didn't +dare do that. A price so much out of line even for Titanite would have +stirred all the rival shipbuilders to unwelcome curiosity. So, we +figured, Bellaver had had him killed."</p> + +<p>"But what happened to the Titanite?"</p> + +<p>"That," said Shearing, "is what nobody knows. Bellaver must have figured +that if his tame Lazarites couldn't find where MacDonald had put it, we +couldn't either. He was right. With all our combined mental probes and +conventional detectors we haven't been able to track it down. And we +haven't been able to find any more pockets, either. Bellaver Corporation +got exclusive mineral rights to the whole damned moon. They even own the +refinery now."</p> + +<p>Hyrst shook his head. "Latent impressions or not, I don't see how I can +help on that. If MacDonald had given the killer any clue—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A beam of bright blue light no thicker than a pencil struck in through +the mouth of the passage. It touched the side of the large stone block. +The stone turned molten and ran, and then the beam flicked off, leaving +a place that glowed briefly red. Shearing said, "I guess our ten minutes +are up."</p> + +<p>They were. For a second or two nothing more happened and then Hyrst saw +something come sailing in through the crack. His mind told him what it +was just barely in time to shut his eyes. There was a flash that dazzled +him even through his closed lids, and the flash became a glare that did +not lessen. Bellaver's men had tossed in a long-term flare, and almost +at once someone followed it, in the hope of catching Hyrst and Shearing +blinded and off guard. The eyes of Hyrst's mind, unaffected by light, +clearly showed him the suited figure just below him, with its bubble +helmet covered by a glare-shield. They directed him with perfect +accuracy in the downward sweep of the lead weight he had taken from his +boot, and which he still held in his hand. The bubble helmet was very +strong, and the gravity very light, but the concussion was enough to +drop the man unconscious. Just about thought Hyrst, what happened to me +there in the hoist tower, when MacDonald died. Shearing, who had by now +adjusted his own glare-shield stooped quickly and took the man's gun.</p> + +<p>He said aloud, over the helmet communicator, "The next one that steps +through here gets it. Do you hear that, Bellaver?"</p> + +<p>Bellaver's voice answered. "Listen, Shearing, I was wrong. I admit it. +Let's calm down and start over again. I—"</p> + +<p>"Ten minutes ago it was no mercy."</p> + +<p>"It's hard for me to behave reasonably about this business. You know +what it means to me, what it meant to my father and <i>his</i> father. But +I'm willing to do anything, Shearing, if you'll make a deal."</p> + +<p>"I'll make a deal. Readily. Eagerly. Give back what your grandfather +stole from us, and we'll call it square."</p> + +<p>"Oh no we won't," said Hyrst grimly, breaking in. "Not until I find who +killed MacDonald."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Bellaver. "Wilson, break out the grenades."</p> + +<p>The entire surface of Hyrst's body burst into a flaring sweat. For one +panic-stricken second he wanted to rush out the crack pleading for +mercy. Then he got his feet against the wall and pushed hard, and went +plunging across the chamber in a sort of floating dive. Shearing got +there at the same time and helped to pull him down. They huddled +together on the floor, with the coffin-shaped block between them and the +crack. Hyrst sent out a frantic mental call to hurry, directed at the +spaceship of the brotherhood.</p> + +<p>"They're all going to hurry," said Shearing. "Vernon has found the ship +now. He's telling Bellaver. Here comes the grenade—"</p> + +<p>Small round glittering thing of death, curving light and graceful +through the airless gloom. It comes so slowly, and the flesh shrinks +quivering upon itself until it is nothing more than a handful of simple +fear. Outside the men are running away, and the one who has thrown the +grenade from the cramped, constructing vantage of the crack is running +after them, and Shearing is crying with his mind Will it to fall short, +<i>will it to fall sh</i>—</p> + +<p>There is a great brilliance, and the rock leaps, but there is not the +slightest sound.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>The Ram, the Bull, the Heavenly Twins,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And next the Crab the Lion Shine.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The Virgin and the Scales—</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The old zodiacal rhyme was running through Hyrst's mind, and that was +the only thing that was in his mind.</p> + +<p>The Virgin and the Scales.</p> + +<p>Yes. And she's very beautiful, too, thought Hyrst. But she shouldn't be +<i>holding</i> the Scales. That's all wrong. The Scales come next, and then +the Scorpion—Scorpio—and the Archer—Sagittarius—</p> + +<p>And anyway they aren't scales, they're a pair of big golden stars, and +she's putting them down, and they're melting together. There's only one +of them, and it's not a star at all, really. It's a polished metal jug, +reflecting the light, and—</p> + +<p>The Virgin smiled. "The doctor said you were coming around. I brought +you something to drink."</p> + +<p>Reality returned to Hyrst with a rush. "You're Christina," he said, and +tried to sit up. He was dizzy, and she helped him, and he said, "I guess +it did fall short."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"The grenade. The last thing I remember is Shearing—Wait. Where is +Shearing?"</p> + +<p>"Sitting up in the lounge, nursing his bruises. Yes, it fell short, but +I don't think telekinetics had much to do with that. We've never been +able to control matter convincingly. There. All right?"</p> + +<p>"Fine. How did you get us out?"</p> + +<p>"Of course the grenade had made the entrance impassible—we had to cut +our way in through the outer wall. We had a clear field. Bellaver's men +had all gone back to their ships. They thought you were dead, and to +tell you the truth we thought you must be, too. But you didn't quite +'feel' dead, so we dug you out."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Hyrst. "I suppose they know different now."</p> + +<p>He was in a ship's sick-bay. From the erratic crash and shudder of the +lateral jets, they were beating their way through the Belt, and at a +high rate of speed. Hyrst sent a glance back into space. The tugs and +Bellaver's yacht were following, but this time only the yacht had a +chance. The tugs were dropping hopelessly behind.</p> + +<p>"Yes, they soon found out once we got you out, but with any luck we'll +lose them," said Christina. She sat down beside the bunk, where she +could see his face. "Shearing told you about the ship."</p> + +<p>"The starship. Yes." He looked at her. Suddenly he laughed. "You're not +a goddess at all."</p> + +<p>"Who said I was?"</p> + +<p>"Shearing. Or anyway, his mind. Ten feet tall, and crowned with stars—I +was afraid of you." He leaned closer. "Your eyes, though. They are +angry."</p> + +<p>"So will yours be," she said, "when you've fought the Bellavers as long +as we have."</p> + +<p>"There are still things I don't understand. Why you built the ship, why +you've kept it secret from everyone, not just Bellaver, what you plan to +do with it—how <i>you</i> came to be one of the Brotherhood."</p> + +<p>She smiled. "The Seitz method was originated to save wreck-victims +frozen in deep space. Remember? Quite a few of us never went through the +door at all, innocent or guilty. But that makes no difference, once +you've come back from out there." She put her hand on his. "You've +learned fast, but you're only on the threshold. There's no need for +words with us. Open your mind—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He did so. At first it was no different from the contact he had had with +Shearing's mind, or with Christina's before on the <i>Happy Dream</i>. +Thoughts came to him clearly phrased—<i>You want to know why we built the +ship, what we plan to do with it</i>—and it was only after some time that +he realized the words had stopped and he was receiving Christina's +emotions, her memories and opinions, her disappointments and her dreams, +as simply and directly as though they were his own.</p> + +<p>You haven't had time yet, they told him without words, to realize how +alone you are. You haven't tried, as most of us do at first, to be human +again, to fit yourself into life as though the gap of time was not +there, as though nothing had changed. You haven't watched people getting +old around you while you have hardly added a gray hair. You haven't had +to move from one place to another, one job, one group of friends to +another, because sooner or later they sense something wrong about you. +You haven't had to hide your new powers as you would hide a disease +because people would fear and hate you, perhaps even kill you, if they +knew. That's why there is a brotherhood. And that's why we built the +ship.</p> + +<p>Symbol of flight. Symbol of freedom. A universe wide beyond imagining, +thronging with many colored guns, with new worlds where men in a human +society could build a society of their own. <i>No boundaries beyond which +the mind cannot dare to go. All space, all time, all knowledge—free!</i></p> + +<p>Once more he saw those wide dark seas between the suns. His mind raced +with hers through the cold-flaming nebulae, wheeled blinded and stunned +past the hiving stars of Hercules, looked in eager fascination at the +splendid spiral of Andromeda—no longer, perhaps, beyond reach, for what +are time and space to the intangible forces of the mind?</p> + +<p>Then that wild flight ceased, and instead there was a smaller vision, +misty and only half realized, of houses and streets, a place where they +could live and be what they were, openly and without fear.</p> + +<p><i>Can you understand now</i>, she asked him, <i>what they would think if they +knew about the ship? Can you understand that they would be afraid to +have us colonizing out there, afraid of what we might do?</i></p> + +<p>He understood. At the very least, if the truth were known, the Lazarites +would never be free again. They would be taken and tested and examined +and lectured about, legislated over, restricted, governed, and used. +They might be fairly paid for their ship and whatever other advancements +they might develop, but they would never be permitted to use them.</p> + +<p>With sudden savage eagerness Hyrst said, "But first of all I must know +who killed MacDonald. Shearing explained about the latent impressions. +I'm ready."</p> + +<p>She stood up, regarding him with grave eyes. "There's no guarantee it +will work. Sometimes it does. Sometimes not."</p> + +<p>Hyrst thought about the tired, gray-haired man who had stood at the foot +of his bed. "It'll work. It's got to."</p> + +<p>He added, "If it doesn't, I'll tear the truth out of Bellaver with my +hands."</p> + +<p>"It may come to that," she said grimly. "But we'll hope. Lie quiet. I'll +make the arrangements."</p> + +<p>An hour later Hyrst lay on the padded table in the middle of the +sick-bay. The ship spun and whirled and leaped in a sort of insane +dance, and Hyrst was strapped to the table to prevent his being thrown +off. He had known that the ship was maneuvering in the thickest swarm +area of the Belt with four pilots mind-linked and flying esper, trying +to out-dare Bellaver. Two others were keeping Vernon blanked, and they +hoped that either Bellaver himself or his radar-deflector system would +give up. Hyrst had known this, but now he was no longer interested. He +was barely conscious of the lurching of the ship. They had given him +some sort of a drug, and he lay relaxed and pliant in a pleasant +suspension of all worries, looking vaguely up at the faces that were +bent over him. Finally he closed his eyes, and even they were gone.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He was crossing the plain of methane snow with MacDonald, under the +glowing Rings. At first it was all a little blurred, but gradually the +memory cleared until he was aware of each tiny detail far more clearly +than he had been at the time—the texture of the material from which +MacDonald's suit was made, the infinitesimal shadow underscoring every +roughness of the snow, the exact sensation of walking in his leaded +boots, the whisper and whistle of his oxygen system. He quarreled again +with MacDonald, not missing a word. He climbed with him into the tower +of Number Three hoist and examined the signal lights, and sat down on +the bench, smiling, to wait.</p> + +<p>He sweated inside his suit. He would take a shower when he got back to +quarters. He wished for a smoke. MacDonald's steady grumbling and +cursing filled his helmet. He listened, enjoying it. Hope you bang +yourself with your own clumsy hammer. And I wish you joy of your +fortune. If you have as many friends rich as you had poor you won't have +any. There was an itch under his left arm. He pressed the suit in with +his right and wriggled his body against it. It didn't do any good. Damn +suits. Damn Titan. Lucky Elena, back on Earth with the kids. Making good +money, though. Won't be long before I can go back and live like a human +being. Now his nose itched, and MacDonald was still grumbling. There was +the faintest ghost of a sound and then <i>crack</i>, then nothing, dark, +cold, sinking, very weak, gone. Nothing, nothing. I come to in the cold +silence and look down the shaft at MacDonald and he is dead.</p> + +<p><i>Go back a bit. Slow. That's right. Easy. Back to Elena and the kids.</i></p> + +<p>Lucky Elena, in the sun and the warm sweet air. Lucky kids. But I'm +lucky too. I can go back to them soon. My nose itches. Why does your +nose always itch when you've got a helmet on, or your hands all over +grease? Listen to MacDonald, damning the belt, damning the tools, +damning everything in sight. Is that a footstep? The air is thin and +poisonous, but it carries sound. Somebody coming behind me? Split +second, no time to look or think. <i>Crack.</i> Cold. Dark. Nothing.</p> + +<p><i>Let's go back again. Don't hurry. We've all the time in the world. Go +back to the footsteps you heard behind you.</i></p> + +<p>Almost heard. And then I black and cold. Heavy. Flat. Face heavy against +helmet, cold. Lying down. Must get up, must get up, danger. Far away. +Can't. MacDonald is screaming. Let the lift alone, what are you doing, +Hyrst? Hyrst! Shut up, you greedy little man, and listen. You're not +Hyrst—who are you? That doesn't matter. I know, you're from Bellaver. +Bellaver sent you to steal the Titanite. Well, you won't get it. It's +where nobody will ever get it unless I show them how. Good. That's good, +MacDonald. That's what I wanted to know. You see, <i>we</i> don't need the +Titanite.</p> + +<p>MacDonald screams again and the lift goes down with a roar and a rattle +of severed chain.</p> + +<p>Heavy footsteps, shaking the floor by my head. Someone turns me over, +speaks to me, bending close. Light is gray and strange. I try to rouse. +I can't. The man is satisfied. He drops me and goes away, but I have +seen his face inside his helmet. I hear him working on some metal thing +with a tool. He is whistling a little under his breath. MacDonald is not +screaming now. From time to time he whimpers. But I have seen the +killer's face.</p> + +<p>I have seen his face.</p> + +<p>I have seen—</p> + +<p><i>Take it easy, Hyrst. Take your time.</i></p> + +<p>Elena is dead, and this is Christina bending over me.</p> + +<p>I have seen the killer's face.</p> + +<p>It is the face of Vernon.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>There was Christina, and there was Shearing, and there were two more he +did not know, leaning over him. The drug was wearing off a little, and +Hyrst could see them more clearly, see the bitter disappointment in +their eyes.</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" Christina said. "Are you sure? Go back again—"</p> + +<p>They took him back again, and it was the same.</p> + +<p>"That's all MacDonald said? Then we're no closer to the Titanite than we +were before."</p> + +<p>Hyrst was not interested in the Titanite. "Vernon," he said. Something +red and wild rose up in him, and he tried to tear away the straps that +held him. "Vernon. I'll get him—"</p> + +<p>"Later, Hyrst," said Shearing, and sighed. "Lie still a bit. He's on +Bellaver's yacht, remember? Quite out of reach. Now think. MacDonald +said, You won't get it, it's where nobody will ever get it—"</p> + +<p>"What's the use?" said Christina, turning away. "It was a faint hope +anyway. Dying men don't draw obliging maps for you." She sat down on the +edge of a bunk and put her head in her hands. "We might as well give up. +You know that."</p> + +<p>One of the two Lazarites who had done the latent probe on Hyrst said +with hollow hopefulness, "Perhaps if we let him rest a while and then go +over it again—"</p> + +<p>"Let me up out of here," said Hyrst, still groggy with the drug. "I want +Vernon."</p> + +<p>"I'll help you get him," said Shearing, "if you'll tell me what +MacDonald meant when he said <i>nobody will ever get it unless I show them +how</i>."</p> + +<p>"How the devil do I know?" Hyrst tugged at the straps, raging. "Let me +up."</p> + +<p>"But you knew MacDonald well. You worked with him and beside him for +years."</p> + +<p>"Does that tell me where he hid the Titanite? Don't be an ass, Shearing. +Let me up."</p> + +<p>"But," said Shearing equably, "he didn't say <i>where</i>. He said <i>how</i>."</p> + +<p>"Isn't that the same thing?"</p> + +<p>"Is it? Listen. Nobody will ever get it unless I show them where. Nobody +will ever get it unless I show them how."</p> + +<p>Hyrst stopped fighting the straps. He began to frown. Christina lifted +her head again. She did not say anything. The two Lazarites who had done +the probe stood still and held their breath.</p> + +<p>Shearing's mind touched Hyrst's stroking it as with soothing fingers. +"Let's think about that for a minute. Let your thoughts move freely. +MacDonald was an engineer. The engineer. Of the four, he alone knew +every inch of the physical set-up of the refinery. So?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That's right. But that doesn't say where—Wait a minute, though. +If he'd just shoved it in a crack somewhere in the mountains, he'd know +a detector might find it, more easily than before it was dug. He'd have +put it some where deep, deeper than he could possibly dig. Maybe in an +abandoned mine?"</p> + +<p>"No place," said Shearing, "is too deep for us to probe. We've examined +every abandoned mine on that side of Titan. And it doesn't fit, anyway. +No. Try again."</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't have brought it back to the refinery. One of us would be +sure to find it. Unless, of course—"</p> + +<p>Hyrst stopped, and the tension in the sick-bay tightened another notch. +The ship lurched sharply, swerved, and shot upward with a deafening +thunder of rocket-blasts. Hyrst shut his eyes, thinking hard.</p> + +<p>"Unless he put it in some place so dangerous that nobody ever went +there. A place where even he didn't go, but which he would know about +being the engineer."</p> + +<p>"Can you think of any place that would answer that description?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hyrst slowly. "The underground storage bins. They're always +hot, even when they're empty. Anything hidden near them would be +blanketed by radiation. No detector would see anything but uranium. +Probably even you wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"No," said Shearing, looking amazed. "Probably we wouldn't. The +radioactive disturbance would be too strong to get through, even if we +were looking for something beyond it, which we weren't."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Christina had sprung up. Now she bent over Hyrst and said, "But is there +a way it could have been done? Obviously, the Titanite couldn't have +been put directly into the bin with the uranium—if nothing else, it +would have been shipped out in the next tanker."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Hyrst. "There would be several ways. I can think of a +couple myself, and I've never even see the layout. The repair-lift +shaft, I know, goes clear down to the feeder mechanism, and there's some +kind of a system of dispersal tunnels and an emergency gadget that trips +automatically to release a liquid-graphite damping material into them in +case the radiation level gets too high. I don't remember that it ever +did, but it's a safeguard. There'd be plenty of places to hide a lead +box full of Titanite."</p> + +<p>"<i>Unless I show them how</i>," repeated Shearing slowly, and began to undo +the straps that held Hyrst to the table. "It has an ominous sound. I'll +bet you that locating the Titanite will be child's play compared to +getting it out. Well, we'll do what we can."</p> + +<p>"The first thing," said Christina grimly, "is to get rid of Bellaver. If +he has the slightest suspicion where we're headed he'll radio ahead and +have all Titan alerted."</p> + +<p>Hyrst, sitting up now on the edge of the table, hanging on against the +lurching of the ship, said, "That's right—he owns the refinery now, +doesn't he? Is it still working?"</p> + +<p>"No. The mines around there played out, oh, ten, fifteen years ago. The +activity's shifted to the north and east on the other side of the range. +That is what may possibly give us a chance." Shearing staggered with +Hyrst across the bucking deck and sat tailor-fashion in the bunk, his +eyes intent. "Hyrst, I want you to remember everything you can about the +refinery. The ground plan, exactly where the buildings are, the hoists, +the landing field. Everything."</p> + +<p>Hyrst said, showing the edges of his teeth, "When do I get Vernon?"</p> + +<p>"You'll get him. I promise you."</p> + +<p>"What about Bellaver? He's still behind us."</p> + +<p>Shearing smiled. "That's Christina's job! Let her worry."</p> + +<p>Hyrst nodded. He began to remember the refinery. Christina and the other +two went out.</p> + +<p>A short while later a number of things happened, violently, and in quick +succession. The ship of the Lazarites, pursuing its wild and headlong +course through the swarming debris of the Belt, was far ahead of +Bellaver's yacht but still within instrument range. Apparently in +desperation it plunged suddenly on a tangential course into a cluster of +great jagged rocks all travelling together at a furious rate of speed. +The cluster was perhaps two hundred miles across. The Lazarite ship +twisted and turned, and then there was a swift bright flowering of +flame, and then nothing.</p> + +<p>"She's blown her tubes," said Bellaver exultantly, on the bridge of his +yacht. The instruments had lost contact, chiefly because the cluster was +so thick that it was impossible to separate one body from another.</p> + +<p>Vernon said, "They're not blanking my mind any more. It stopped, like +that."</p> + +<p>But he was still doubtful.</p> + +<p>"Can you locate the ship?" asked Bellaver.</p> + +<p>"I'm trying."</p> + +<p>Bellaver caught his arm. "Look there!"</p> + +<p>There was a second, larger and more brilliant, flash of flame.</p> + +<p>"They've hit an asteroid," he said. "They're done for."</p> + +<p>"I can't locate them," Vernon said. "No ship, no wreckage. It could be a +trick. They could be holding a cloak."</p> + +<p>"A trick?" said Bellaver. "I doubt it. Anyway, we're running low on +fuel, and I'm not going to go into that cluster and risk my own neck to +find out. If by any chance they do come out again later on, we'll deal +with them."</p> + +<p>But they both watched the cluster until it had whirled on out of sight. +And neither eye nor instrument nor Vernon's probing mind could +distinguish any sign of life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>Titan lay below them in the Saturn-glow, under the fantastic glory of +the Rings. A bitter, repellent world of jagged peaks and glimmering +plains of poison snow. The tiny life-raft dropped toward it, skittering +nervously as it hit the thin atmosphere. Hyrst clung hard to the +handholds, trying not to retch. He was not habituated to space anyway, +and the skiff had been bad enough. Now, without any hull around him and +nothing but a curved shield in front of him, he felt like an ant on a +flying leaf.</p> + +<p>"I don't like it either." Shearing said. "But it gives us a fifty-fifty +chance of getting through unnoticed. Radar usually isn't looking for +anything so small."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> understand all the reasons," Hyrst said. "It's my stomach that's +obtuse."</p> + +<p>He could make out the pattern of the refinery now, a million miles of +vertigo below him. The Lazarite ship was somewhere up and out behind +them, hiding in the Rings. The trick had worked with Bellaver out there +in the Belt, and they hoped now that it would work with Bellaver's +observers on Titan. There was no need for any fake explosions this time, +to give the impression of destruction. Secrecy was the watch-word, all +lights out and jet-blasts muffled to a spark. Later, when Hyrst and +Shearing had accomplished their mission, the ship would drop down fast +and take them off, with the Titanite, before any patrol craft would have +time to arrive.</p> + +<p>They hoped.</p> + +<p>The buildings of the refinery were dark and cold, drifted out of shape +by an accumulation of the thin, evil snow. The spiderweb of roads had +faded from the plain, and the landing field was smooth and unmarked. +Around its perimeter the six stiff towers of the hoists stood up like +lonely sentinels, hooded and cloaked.</p> + +<p>Hyrst felt a sudden tightening of his throat, and this was a thing he +had not expected. A refinery on Titan was hardly a thing to be +sentimental about. But it was bound up so intimately with other things, +with hopes for a future that was now far behind him, with plans for +Elena and the kids that were now a cruel mockery, with friendly memories +of Saul and Landers, now long dead, that he could not look at it +unmoved.</p> + +<p>"Let's try again," said Shearing quietly. "If we could locate the +Titanite definitely it might make all the difference. We'll hardly have +time to search all six of the bins."</p> + +<p>Glad of the distraction, Hyrst tried. He linked his mind to Shearing's +and they probed with this double probe, one after the other, the six +hoists and the bins beneath them, while the raft fell whistling down the +air.</p> + +<p>It was the same as all the tries before. The bins had been empty for +more than a decade, but the residual radiation was still hot enough to +present a luminous haze to the eyes of the mind, fogging everything +around it.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," Hyrst said. "Let's use our wits. Look at the way those +hoists are placed, in a wide crescent. Now if I was MacDonald, coming in +from the mountains with a load of Titanite, and I wanted not to be seen, +which one would I pick?"</p> + +<p>"Either One or Six," said Shearing, without hesitation. "They're the +farthest away from the buildings."</p> + +<p>"But Number Six is at the west end of the crescent, and to reach it you +would have to go clear across the landing field." He pointed mentally to +Number One. "I'll bet on that one. Shall we give it another try?"</p> + +<p>They did. This time, for a fleeting second, Hyrst thought he had +something.</p> + +<p>"So did I," said Shearing. "Sort of down under and <i>behind</i>."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Hyrst. "<i>Look</i> out!" His involuntary cry was caused by the +sudden collision of the life-raft with a cloud. The vapor was very +thick, and after the cruel clarity of space it made Hyrst feel that he +was smothering. Shearing jockeyed the raft's meagre controls, and in a +minute or two they were below the cloud and spiralling down toward the +landing field. It was snowing.</p> + +<p>"Good," said Shearing. "We'll hope it keeps up."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They landed close to Number One Hoist and floundered rapidly through the +shallow drifts, carrying some things. The hatch had been sealed with a +plastic spray to prevent corrosion, and it took them several minutes to +get it open. Inside the tower it was pitch black, but they did not need +lights. Their other senses showed them the worn metal treads of the +steps quite clearly. In the upper chamber the indicator panels were dark +and dead. Hyrst shivered inside his suit. He had been here so many times +before, so long ago.</p> + +<p>"Let's get busy," Shearing said.</p> + +<p>They pulled on the rayproofs they had brought with them from the raft. +Without power the lift was useless, but the skeleton cage, stripped of +all its tools, was not too heavy for two strong men to swing clear of +the shaft top. They made sure it would stay clear, and then sent down a +light collapsible ladder. Hyrst slid down first into the smooth, round, +totally unlighted hole, that had one segment of it open paralleling the +machinery of the hoist.</p> + +<p>"Take it carefully," Shearing said, and slid after him.</p> + +<p>Clumsy in vac-suit and rayproof, Hyrst descended the ladder with +agonizing slowness. Every impulse cried out for haste, but he knew if he +hurried he would wind up at the bottom of the shaft as dead as +MacDonald. The banging and knocking of their passage against the metal +wall made a somber, hollow booming in that enclosed space, and it seemed +to Hyrst that the silent belts and cables of the hoist hummed a little +in sympathy. It was probably only the blood humming in his own ears.</p> + +<p>"See anything yet?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>The vast strange glowing of the bin grew brighter as they approached it. +The hoist was still "hot," and it glowed too, but nothing like the +concentration in the bin.</p> + +<p>"Even with rayproofs, we can't stay close to that too long."</p> + +<p>"I don't think we'll have to. MacDonald was only human, and the bin was +full then. He couldn't have stayed long either."</p> + +<p>"See anything yet?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing but fog. When you hit bottom, better use your light."</p> + +<p>At long last Hyrst felt the bottom of the shaft under his boots. He +stood aside from the ladder and switched on his belt lamp. In this case +the physical eyes were better than the mental, being insensitive to +radiation. Instantly the gears and cams of the feeder assembly sprang +into sharp relief on the open side of the shaft. Shearing stumbled down +off the ladder and switched on his own light.</p> + +<p>"Where was it we thought we saw something?"</p> + +<p>"Down under and behind." Hyrst turned slowly around, questing. The shaft +was unbroken except by the repair opening. He climbed through it, with +some difficulty, because nobody was supposed to climb through it and the +machinery was placed for easy access with extension tools from the lift. +The bin itself was now directly opposite them, a big hopper cut deep in +the solid rock and serving the feeder by simple gravity. The feeder +pretty well filled its own rocky chamber. A place might have been found +beside it for something not too big, but the first man who came down on +the lift would have seen it whether he was looking for it or not.</p> + +<p>Shearing pointed. A dark opening pierced the rock at one side. Hyrst +tried to see into it with his mental eyes, but the "fog" was so dense +and bright—</p> + +<p>He saw it, an unsubstantial ghostly shadow, but there. A square box some +twenty feet down the tunnel.</p> + +<p>Shearing drew a quick sharp breath "Let's go."</p> + +<p>They went into the tunnel, crouching, scraping against the narrow sides.</p> + +<p>"Look out for booby traps."</p> + +<p>"I don't see any—yet."</p> + +<p>The box sat in the middle of the tunnel. There was no way to get around +it, no way to see over it without lying on its top and wriggling between +it and the low roof. Hyrst and Shearing shut their eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure, but I think I see a wire. Damn the fog. Can't tell where +it goes—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Hyrst took cutters from his belt and slithered cautiously over the box. +His heart was hammering very hard and his hand shook so that he had +great difficulty getting the cutters and the wire together. The wire was +attached to the back of the box, very crudely and hastily attached with +a blob of plastic solder. It was not until he had pinched the wire with +the sharp metal cutter-teeth that he realized the plastic was +non-metallic and the wire bare. And then, of course, it was too late.</p> + +<p>There must have been a simple energizer somewhere up ahead, still +charging itself from the ample radiation source. The cutters flew out of +Hyrst's hand in a shower of sparks, and in the darkness of the tunnel +ahead there was a sudden wild flare of light, and an explosion of dust. +A shock wave, not too great, hammered past Hyrst's helmet. Shearing +yelled once, a protest broken short in mid-cry. Then they waited.</p> + +<p>The dust settled. The brief tremor of the rock was stilled.</p> + +<p>In the roof of the tunnel, where the blast had been, a broken dump-trap +hung open, but nothing poured out of it but a handful of black dust.</p> + +<p>Hyrst began to laugh. He lay on his belly on top of the box of Titanite +and laughed. The tears ran out of his eyes and down his nose and dropped +onto the inside of his helmet. Shearing hit him from behind. He hit him +until he stopped laughing, and then Hyrst shook his head and said.</p> + +<p>"Poor MacDonald."</p> + +<p>"Yeah. Go ahead, you can cut the wire now."</p> + +<p>"Such a lovely booby trap. But he wasn't figuring on time. They went +away from here, Shearing, you see? And when they went they drained off +the liquid graphite and took it with them. So there isn't anything left +to flood the tunnel. Pathetic, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Shearing hit him again. "Cut the wire."</p> + +<p>He cut it. They scuffled backward down the tunnel, dragging the box. +When they got back into the shaft where there was room to do it they +opened up the box.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't look like much, does it, for all the trouble it's made?"</p> + +<p>"No, it doesn't. But then gold doesn't look like much, or uranium, or a +handful of little dry seeds." Shearing picked up a chunk of the rough, +grayish ore. "You know what that is, Hyrst? That's the stars."</p> + +<p>It was Hyrst's turn to prod Shearing into quiet. The starship and the +dream that went with it were still only an intellectual interest to him. +They shared out the Titanite into two webbing sacks. It made a light +load for each, hardly noticeable when clipped to a belt-ring at the +back.</p> + +<p>Hyrst felt suddenly very nervous. Perhaps it was reaction, perhaps it +was the memory of having been trapped in a similar hole on the Valhalla +asteroid. Perhaps it was a mental premonition, obscured by the +radioactive "fog". At any rate, he started to climb the ladder with +almost suicidal haste, urging Shearing on after him. The shaft seemed to +be a mile high. It seemed to lengthen ahead of him as he climbed, so +that he was never any nearer the top. He knew it was only imagination, +because he passed the level markers, but it was the closest thing to a +nightmare he had ever experienced when he was broad awake. Just after +they had passed the E Level mark, Shearing spoke.</p> + +<p>"A ship has landed."</p> + +<p>Hyrst looked mentally. The fog-effect was not so great now, and he could +see quite clearly. It was a small ship, and two men were getting out of +it. It had stopped snowing.</p> + +<p>"Radar must have picked up the raft after all," said Shearing. "Or else +somebody spotted the jet-flares." He began to climb faster. "We better +get out of this before they come in."</p> + +<p>D Level. Hyrst's hands were cold and stiff inside his gauntlets, clumsy +hooks to catch the slender rungs. The two men were standing outside in +the snow, peering around.</p> + +<p>C Level. One of the two men saw the raft parked by the hoist tower. He +pointed, and they moved toward it.</p> + +<p>B Level. Hyrst's boots slipped and scrambled, banging the shaft wall. +"Christ," said Shearing. "You sound like a temple gong. What are you +trying to do, alarm the whole moon?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The men outside bent over the raft. They looked at it. Then they looked +at the hoist tower. They left the raft and began to run, pulling guns +out of their belts.</p> + +<p>A Level. Hyrst's breath roared in his helmet like a great wind. He +thought of the long dark way down that was below them, and how MacDonald +had looked at the bottom of the shaft, and how he would take Shearing +with him if he fell, and nobody would get to the stars, and Vernon would +go free. He set his teeth, and sobbed, and climbed. Outside, the two men +cautiously removed the hatch and stepped into the tower.</p> + +<p>End of the ladder. A level floor to sprawl on. Hyrst squirmed away from +the shaft. He thought for a minute he was going to pass out, and he +fumbled with the oxygen valve, making the mixture richer. His head began +to clear. Shearing was now beside him. This time they had guns, too. +Shearing gave him a quick mental caution, <i>Not unless you have to</i>. One +of the two men was placing a tentative foot on the stair that led up to +where they were. The other man was close behind him. Shearing took +careful aim and fired, at half power.</p> + +<p>The harsh blue bolt did not strike either man. But they went reeling +back in a cloud of burning flakes, and when Shearing shouted to them to +drop their weapons and get out they did so, half stunned from the shock. +Hyrst and Shearing leaped down the stairs, stopping only long enough to +pick up the guns. Then they scrambled outside. The two men were running +as hard as they could for their ship, but they had not gone far and +Shearing stopped them with another shot that sent a geyser of methane +steam puffing up practically under their feet.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," he said. "Later."</p> + +<p>The two men stood, sullenly obedient. They were both young, and not bad +looking. Just doing a job, Hyrst thought. No real harm in them, just +doing a job, like so many people who never stop to worry about what the +job means. They both wore Bellaver's insigne on their vac-suits.</p> + +<p>One of them said, as though he were reciting a lesson in which he had no +real personal interest, "You're trespassing on private property. You'll +be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Shearing. He motioned to the hoist tower. "Back inside."</p> + +<p>The young men hesitated. "What you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing fatal. It shouldn't take you more than half an hour to break +out again."</p> + +<p>He marched them to the hatch and saw them inside it. Hyrst was watching +the sky, the black star-glittering sky with the glorious arch of the +Rings across it and one milky-bright curve of Saturn visible and growing +above the eastern horizon.</p> + +<p>"They're coming," he said mentally to Shearing.</p> + +<p>"Good." He started to close the hatch, and one of the young men pointed +suddenly to the sack clipped to Shearing's belt.</p> + +<p>"You've been stealing something."</p> + +<p>"Tell that to Bellaver."</p> + +<p>"You bet I will. The fullest extent of the law, mister! The fullest +extent—"</p> + +<p>The hatch closed. Shearing jammed the fastening mechanism so it could +not be turned from the inside. Then he went and stood beside Hyrst in +the glimmering plain, watching the ship drop down out of the Rings.</p> + +<p>Hyrst said, "They'll tell Bellaver."</p> + +<p>"Naturally."</p> + +<p>"What will Bellaver do?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure. Something drastic. He wants our starship so hard he'd +murder his own children to get it. You can see why. In itself it's +priceless, a hundred years ahead of its time, but that's not all. It's +what it stands for. To us it means freedom and safety. To Bellaver it +means—"</p> + +<p>He gestured toward the sky, and Hyrst nodded, seeing in Shearing's mind +the image of a gigantic Bellaver, ten times bigger than God, gathering +the whole galaxy into his arms.</p> + +<p>"I wish you luck," said Hyrst. He unhooked the sack of Titanite from his +belt and gave it to Shearing. "It'll take a little while to refine the +stuff and build the relays, even so. That may be time enough. Come back +for me if you can."</p> + +<p>"Vernon?"</p> + + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Shearing nodded. "I said I'd help you get him. I will."</p> + +<p>"No. This is my job. I'll do it alone. You belong there, with them. With +Christina."</p> + +<p>"Hyrst. Listen—"</p> + +<p>"Don't tell me where the starship is. I might not hold out as well as +you."</p> + +<p>"All right, but Hyrst—in case we can't get back—look for us away from +the Sun. Not toward it."</p> + +<p>"I'll remember."</p> + +<p>The ship landed. Shearing entered it, carrying the Titanite. And Hyrst +walked away, toward the closed and buried buildings of the refinery.</p> + +<p>It had begun to snow again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p>It was cold and dark and infinitely sad. Hyrst wandered through the +rooms, feeling like a ghost, thinking like one. Everything had been +removed from the buildings. The living quarters were now mere cubicular +tombs for a lot of memories, absolutely bare of any human or familiar +touch. It felt very strange to Hyrst. He kept telling himself that fifty +years had passed, but he could not believe it. It seemed only a few +months since MacDonald's death, months occupied by investigation and +trial and the raging, futile anguish of the unjustly accused. The long +interval of the pseudo-death was no more than a night's sleep, to a mind +unconscious of passing time. Now it seemed that Saul and Landers should +still be here, and there should be lights and warmth and movement.</p> + +<p>There was nothing. He could not bring himself to stay in the living +quarters. He went into one of the storerooms and sat on a concrete +buttress and waited. It was a long and dreadful wait. During it all the +emotional storms occasioned by the murder and its aftermath passed +through his mind. Scenes with Saul and Landers. Scenes with the +investigators, with MacDonald's family, with lawyers and reporters. +Scenes with Elena. The whole terrible nightmare, leading inevitably to +that culminating moment when the door of the airlock opened and he +joined the sleepers on the plain. When it was all over Hyrst felt shaken +and exhausted, but calm. The face of Vernon burned brightly in his +mind's eye.</p> + +<p>Without bothering to open the steel-shuttered windows, he watched the +two young men force their way out of the hoist tower. He watched them +run to their ship and chatter excitedly over their radio. By the time, +much later, that Bellaver's yacht came screaming down to the landing +field on a flaming burst of jets, he could watch it with almost the cool +detachment of a spectator. He was careful to keep his shields up tight +against Vernon, and he did not think the other Lazarite would be likely +to look for him. Vernon seemed to be fully occupied with Bellaver.</p> + +<p>"<i>What else would they be stealing, you fool? You should have, killed +Hyrst before, when you had the chance.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Somebody had to take the blame for MacDonald. Anyway, you had him +aboard the</i> Happy Dream. <i>Why didn't you hang onto him?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Don't get insolent with me, Vernon. I can turn you over to the police +anytime, for any one of a hundred things.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Not without tipping your hand, Bellaver.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>It would be worth it.</i>" A string of foul names, delivered in a furious +scream. "<i>You couldn't locate the Titanite, but they did, just as soon +as they got hold of Hyrst.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>All right, Mr. God Almighty Bellaver, turn me in. But if it was the +Titanite they took, you haven't a chance of finding that starship +without me.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>You haven't done very well at it so far.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>In the excitement, they may get careless. But it's up to you.</i>"</p> + +<p>More foul language, but Bellaver did not repeat his threat. He and +Vernon, with a couple of other men, got into vac-suits and lumbered +across the snow to the hoist tower. From inside the cold dark buried +building, Hyrst watched them, and thought hard and fast, and smiled. +Presently he left the building and circled cautiously through the snowy +gloom until he was in range of their helmet-communicators. He could hear +them aurally now, but he kept watching them, esper-fashion.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They inspected the empty lead box, and the young men told what had +happened, and Bellaver turned his raging fury against them. There was no +longer any doubt that the Titanite had been found and taken away, and +Bellaver saw the stars and worlds and moons, the bright glowing plunder +of a galaxy, slipping away from him. He threatened the two young men +with every punishment he could think of for not having stopped the +thieves, and one of the young men turned white and anxious, and the +other one flushed brick red and shook his fist close to Bellaver's +helmet.</p> + +<p>"You go to hell," he said. "I don't care who you are. You go to hell."</p> + +<p>He walked out of the hoist tower, with his companion stumbling at his +heels, and Bellaver screamed after them, and behind him the crewmen +looked shocked and contemptuous, and Vernon laughed openly, showing the +edges of his teeth.</p> + +<p>The two young men got into their ship and went away. Bellaver turned and +stood looking at the empty box. He seemed exhausted now, hopeless, like +a child about to break down and cry. Vernon went over and kicked the +box.</p> + +<p>"Hyrst had the advantage," he said. "He knew MacDonald and he knew the +refinery. Even so, it must have been pure guesswork. Nobody could probe +through that fog."</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do?" asked Bellaver. "Vernon, what are we going to +do?"</p> + +<p>Hyrst spoke for the first time, his voice ringing loud and startling in +their ears.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask Vernon," he said. "Ask me."</p> + +<p>There was a moment of complete silence. Hyrst felt Vernon's mind brush +his, and he permitted himself one cruel flash of triumph. Then everybody +spoke at once, Vernon explaining why he hadn't spotted Hyrst—who could +have figured he'd stay behind at a time like this?—the crew-members +nervously fingering their guns, and Bellaver crying,</p> + +<p>"Hyrst! Is that you, Hyrst? Where are you?"</p> + +<p>"Where I can get the first shot at anybody coming out of the tower, and +where nobody from the yacht will ever reach me. Tell them all to stay +put. Go ahead, Bellaver, you want to hear me out, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"What do you want to say?"</p> + +<p>"I can find you that starship. Tell them, Bellaver."</p> + +<p>He told them. And Vernon said to Bellaver, "If he's willing to betray +his friends, why would he get them the Titanite?" He laughed. "It isn't +even a good trick."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it is," said Hyrst softly. "It's a very good one. The best. +You see, I don't care about the starship or the Titanite. All I care +about is the man who killed MacDonald. They were sort of bound up +together. Ever hear of latent impressions, Vernon? I was unconscious, +but my ears heard and my eyes saw, and my brain remembered, when it was +shown how."</p> + +<p>"That was fifty years ago," said Vernon. "People don't understand about +us. Nobody would believe you if you told them."</p> + +<p>"They would if Bellaver told them. They would if Bellaver explained out +loud about the Lazarites, about what happens to men when they go through +the door. They'd listen to him. And there must be others who know, or at +least suspect." Hyrst paused, long enough to smile. "The beauty of that +is, Bellaver, that you're in the clear. You're not responsible for a +murder your grandfather had done. You could swear you didn't even know +about it until now."</p> + +<p>Vernon said to Bellaver, "If you do this to me, I'll blast you wide +open."</p> + +<p>"What can he do, Bellaver?" Hyrst shouted. "He can talk, but you have +the money, the position, the legal powers. You can talk louder. And when +they know the truth, will anybody take the word of a Lazarite against a +human man?"</p> + +<p>His voice rose higher and louder, drowning out Vernon's cry.</p> + +<p>"Are you afraid of him, Bellaver? Are you so afraid of him you'll let +the starship go?"</p> + +<p>"Hold him." Bellaver said, and the crewmen held Vernon fast. "Wait a +minute, Hyrst," he said. "What's your angle? Is it just revenge? Are you +selling out your friends for something over and done half a century ago? +I don't believe it, Hyrst."</p> + +<p>Hyrst said slowly, "I can answer that, so even you will understand. I +have children. They're getting old now. They've lived all their lives +thinking their father killed a man, not for love or for justice or in +self-defense, but for sheer cold-blooded greed. I want them to know it +wasn't so."</p> + +<p>"Hold him!" Bellaver said. The crewmen struggled with Vernon, and Vernon +said viciously to Bellaver,</p> + +<p>"He'll never lead you to the starship. I can read his mind. When you've +turned me in and blackened your grandfather's name to clear him, he'll +laugh in your face. What are you, Bellaver, a fool?"</p> + +<p>"Am I, Hyrst?"</p> + +<p>"That's for you to find out. I'm offering you the starship for Vernon, +and that's fair enough, because I want him as bad as you want it. And I +can tell you, Bellaver, if you decide to play it smart and call in your +guards to hunt me down, it will do you no good. I won't be alive when +they take me."</p> + +<p>Silence. In his mind's eye Hyrst could see the beads of sweat running +down Bellaver's face behind his helmet. He could see Vernon's face, too. +It gave him pleasure.</p> + +<p>"It should be an easy decision, Bellaver," he said. "After all, suppose +I am lying. What have you got to lose but Vernon? And with his record, +that isn't much."</p> + +<p>"Hold him," said Bellaver. "All right, Hyrst. I'll do it. But I'll tell +you now. If you lie to me, there won't be any re-awakening in another +fifty years. This will be for good."</p> + +<p>"Fair enough," said Hyrst. "I'm putting my gun away. I'm coming in."</p> + +<p>He walked quickly through the snow toward the tower.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>On the bridge of his yacht, Bellaver turned to Hyrst and said,</p> + +<p>"I've done what you wanted. Now find me that starship."</p> + +<p>Hyrst nodded. "Take off."</p> + +<p>The rockets roared and thundered, and the swift yacht leaped quivering +into the sky.</p> + +<p>Hyrst sat quietly in his recoil chair. He felt a different man, changed +entirely in the last few days. Much had happened in those days.</p> + +<p>Bellaver had got busy on the radio even before his yacht left Titan, and +the story of the Lazarites had burst like a nova upon the Solar System. +Already there were instances of suspected Lazarites being mobbed by +their neighbors, and Government was frantically concerning itself with +all the new, far-reaching implications of the Humane Penalty.</p> + +<p>Close on the heels of this bomb-shell had come Vernon's angry +accusations against Bellaver, delivered as soon as he was given to the +authorities on Mars. During the twenty Martian hours necessary for +formal charge and the taking of depositions, and while Bellaver's yacht +was being refueled, Vernon's story of the starship went out on all the +interworld circuits. And it had been as Christina had said. The whole +Solar System was frantic to have the Lazarites caught and stopped, and +every man in space became a self-appointed searcher for the hidden +starship. Bellaver, letting his lawyers worry about Vernon's +accusations, had already laid formal claim to that ship, based on the +value of the stolen Titanite.</p> + +<p>"Where?" demanded Bellaver now, in a fury of impatience. "Where?"</p> + +<p>"Wait," said Hyrst. "There are too many watching, ready to follow you. +They know what you're after. Wait till we're clear of Mars."</p> + +<p>He sat in his chair, looking into space. His drive was all gone, and the +anger that had fed it. Somewhere his son and his two daughters were +drawing their first free breaths relieved of a burden they should never +have had to carry. They knew now that he was innocent, and they could +think of him now without bitterness, speak his name without hate. He had +done what he had set out to do, and he was finished. He knew what was +ahead of him, but he was too tired to care.</p> + +<p>The yacht went fast, away from the old red weary planet. Hyrst thought +of Shearing and Christina and the others, laboring over their ship on +the dark plain. He felt safe in doing this, because Vernon was gone and +the gray evil man who had helped to torture Shearing aboard the <i>Happy +Dream</i> was still in an Earth hospital recovering from the blow Hyrst had +given him. They were out of reach, and Hyrst was the only Lazarite +Bellaver had.</p> + +<p>He did not try to get through to Shearing because he knew that was +impossible, and there was no reason for it anyway. He let his mind +stretch out and rove through the nighted spaces beyond Saturn, beyond +Uranus and Neptune, beyond the black and frigid bulk of Pluto. He did +not see the ship nor touch a Lazarite mind, and so he knew that they +were still holding the cloak, still hiding from possible betrayal. He +withdrew his mind, and wished them luck.</p> + +<p>"We're clear of Mars," said Bellaver. "Which way?"</p> + +<p>"That way," said Hyrst, and pointed. "Toward the Sun."</p> + +<p>The yacht swerved and steadied on a new course, toward the distant glare +of Sol. And Bellaver said,</p> + +<p>"What's the exact location?"</p> + +<p>"Can you trust every man in this crew?" asked Hyrst. "Can you be sure +not one of them would give it away, when we stop to refuel? You're not +the only one that knows about the starship now, remember."</p> + +<p>"You could tell <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"You're too impatient, Bellaver. You'd want to head straight there, and +it won't be that easy. They have defenses. We have to be careful, or +they'll destroy the ship before we reach it."</p> + +<p>"Or finish their relays and go." Bellaver gave Hyrst a long look. "I'll +trust you because I have to. But I wasn't making an empty threat. And +I'll do it so there won't be any thought of murder. You'd better find me +that ship, Hyrst."</p> + +<p>From then on, Bellaver hardly slept. He paced the corridors and haunted +the control room and watched Hyrst with a gnawing, agonizing doubt. +Hyrst began to feel for him a distant sort of pity, as he might have +felt for a man afflicted by some disease brought on by his own excesses.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The yacht passed the orbit of Earth, refueled at an obscure space +station, and sped on. Hyrst continued to stall Bellaver, ordering a +change of course from time to time to keep him happy. At intervals he +let his mind rove through those dark spaces they were leaving farther +behind with every passing second. Each time it was a greater effort, but +still there was no sign of the starship or its base, and so he knew that +the labor still went on.</p> + +<p>By the time the yacht reached the orbit of Venus a fan-shaped cordon of +other ships had collected around and behind her drawn by the word that +Bellaver was on his way to find the starship. Government patrols were in +constant touch.</p> + +<p>"They can't interfere," said Bellaver. "I've got a lien on that ship, a +formal claim."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Hyrst. "But you'd better be the first to find it. +Possession, you know. Bear off a bit. Mislead them. They're sure now +they know where you're going."</p> + +<p>"Don't they?" said Bellaver, looking ahead at the glittering spark that +was Mercury. "There isn't anyplace else to go."</p> + +<p>"Isn't there?"</p> + +<p>Bellaver stared at him, narrow-eyed. "The legend of the Vulcan was +exploded by the first explorers. There is no intra-Mercurial world."</p> + +<p>Hyrst shot a swift stabbing mental glance toward Pluto. Still nothing. +He sighed and said easily,</p> + +<p>"There wasn't then. There is now."</p> + +<p>He brazened out the look of incredulity on Bellaver's face.</p> + +<p>"These are Lazarites, remember, not men. They built a place for +themselves where nobody would ever think to look. Not a planet, of +course, just a floating workshop. A satellite. And now you know. So you +can let them beat you to Mercury."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Bellaver softly. "All right."</p> + +<p>They passed Mercury, lost in the blaze of the Sun, and only a few ships +followed them, far behind. The rest stopped to search the craggy valleys +of the Twilight Belt, and the bleak icefields of the Dark Side.</p> + +<p>And now Hyrst had run his string out, and he knew it. When no +intra-Mercurial satellite showed up, physically or on detector-screens, +there was no further lie to tell. He drove his mind out and away, to the +cold planets wheeling on the fringes of Sol's light, and he sweated, and +prayed, and hoped that nothing had gone wrong. And suddenly the cloak +was dropped, and he saw a lonesome chip of rock beyond Pluto, all +hollowed out for shops and living quarters, and the great ship standing +in the mile-long plain, with the stars all drifted overhead. And the +ship lifted from the plain, circled upward, and suddenly was not.</p> + +<p>Hyrst was bitterly sorry that he was not aboard. But he told Bellaver, +"You can stop looking now. They've got away."</p> + +<p>He watched Bellaver die, standing erect on his feet, still breathing, +but dying inside with the last outgoing of hope.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were lying," he said, "but it was the only chance I had." +He nodded, looking toward the shuttered port with the insufferable blaze +outside. He said, in a flat, dead voice, "If you were put out here, +bound, in a lifeboat, headed toward the Sun—Yes. I could make up a +story to fit that."</p> + +<p>In the same toneless voice, he called his men. And suddenly the yacht +lurched over shuddering in the backwash of some tremendous energy. Hyrst +and the others were flung scattering against the bulk-heads, and the +lights went out, and the instruments went dead.</p> + +<p>Beyond the port, on the unshuttered side away from the Sun, a vast dark +shape had materialized out of nothing, to hang close in space beside the +yacht.</p> + +<p>Hyrst heard in his mind, strong and clear, the voice of Shearing saying, +"Didn't I tell you the brotherhood stands by its own? Besides, we +couldn't make a liar out of you, now could we?"</p> + +<p>Hyrst began to laugh, just a little bit hysterically. He told Bellaver, +"There's your starship. And Shearing says if I'm not alive when he comes +aboard to get me, that they won't be as careful about warping space when +they go away as they were when they came."</p> + +<p>Bellaver did not say anything. He sat on the deck where the shock had +thrown him, not speaking. He was still sitting there when Hyrst passed +through the airlock into the starship's boat, and he did not move even +when the great ship vanished silently into whatever mysterious +ultra-space the minds of the Lazarites had unlocked, outbound for the +limitless freedom of the universe, where the wheeling galaxies thunder +on forever across infinity and the stars burn bright, and there is +nothing to stop the march of the Legion of Lazarus. And who knew, who +could tell, where that march would end?</p> + +<p>Aboard the starship, already a million miles away, Hyrst said to +Christina. "When they brought me back from beyond the door, that was +re-awakening. But this—this is being born again."</p> + +<p>She did not answer that. But she took his hand and smiled.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Legion of Lazarus, by Edmond Hamilton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEGION OF LAZARUS *** + +***** This file should be named 32486-h.htm or 32486-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/8/32486/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://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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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: The Legion of Lazarus + +Author: Edmond Hamilton + +Release Date: May 23, 2010 [EBook #32486] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEGION OF LAZARUS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +The Legion Of Lazarus + +By Edmond Hamilton + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination April 1956. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright +on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Sidenote: Being expelled from an air lock into deep space was the legal +method of execution. But it was also the only way a man could qualify +for--The Legion Of Lazarus] + + +_It isn't the dying itself. It's what comes before. The waiting, alone +in a room without windows, trying to think. The opening of the door, the +voices of the men who are going with you but not all the way, the walk +down the corridor to the airlock room, the faces of the men, closed and +impersonal. They do not enjoy this. Neither do they shrink from it. It's +their job._ + +_This is the room. It is small and it has a window. Outside there is no +friendly sky, no clouds. There is space, and there is the huge red +circle of Mars filling the sky, looking down like an enormous eye upon +this tiny moon. But you do not look up. You look out._ + +_There are men out there. They are quite naked. They sleep upon the +barren plain, drowsing in a timeless ocean. Their bodies are white as +ivory and their hair is loose across their faces. Some of them seem to +smile. They lie, and sleep, and the great red eye looks at them forever +as they are borne around it._ + +"_It isn't so bad," says one of the men who are with you inside this +ultimate room. "Fifty years from now, the rest of us will all be old, or +dead._" + +_It is small comfort._ + +_The one garment you have worn is taken from you and the lock door +opens, and the fear that cannot possibly become greater does become +greater, and then suddenly that terrible crescendo is past. There is no +longer any hope, and you learn that without hope there is little to be +afraid of. You want now only to get it over with._ + +_You step forward into the lock._ + +_The door behind you shuts. You sense that the one before you is +opening, but there is not much time. The burst of air carries you +forward. Perhaps you scream, but you are now beyond sound, beyond sight, +beyond everything. You do not even feel that it is cold._ + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +There is a time for sleep, and a time for waking. But Hyrst had slept +heavily, and the waking was hard. He had slept long, and the waking was +slow. _Fifty years_, said the dim voice of remembrance. But another part +of his mind said, No, it is only tomorrow morning. + +Another part of his mind. That was strange. There seemed to be more +parts to his mind than he remembered having had before, but they were +all confused and hidden behind a veil of mist. Perhaps they were not +really there at all. Perhaps-- + +_Fifty years. I have been dead_, he thought, _and now I live again. +Half a century. Strange._ + +Hyrst lay on a narrow bed, in a place of subdued light and +antiseptic-smelling air. There was no one else in the room. There was no +sound. + +_Fifty years_, he thought. _What is it like now, the house where I lived +once, the country, the planet? Where are my children, where are my +friends, my enemies, the people I loved, the people I hated?_ + +_Where is Elena? Where is my wife?_ + +A whisper out of nowhere, sad, remote. _Your wife is dead and your +children are old. Forget them. Forget the friends and the enemies._ + +_But I can't forget!_ cried Hyrst silently in the spaces of his own +mind. It was only yesterday-- + +_Fifty years_, said the whisper. _And you must forget._ + +_MacDonald_, said Hyrst suddenly. _I didn't kill him. I was innocent. I +can't forget that._ + +_Careful_, said the whisper. _Watch out._ + +_I didn't kill MacDonald. Somebody did. Somebody let me pay for it. Who? +Was it Landers? Was it Saul? We four were together out there on Titan, +when he died._ + +_Careful_, Hyrst. _They're coming. Listen to me. You think this is your +own mind speaking, question-and-answer. But it isn't._ + +Hyrst sprang upright on the narrow bed, his heart pounding, the sweat +running cold on his skin. _Who are you? Where are you? How--_ + +_They're here_, said the whisper calmly. _Be quiet._ + +Two men came into the ward. "I am Dr. Merridew," said the one in the +white coverall, smiling at Hyrst with a brisk professional smile. "This +is Warden Meister. We didn't mean to startle you. There are a few +questions, before we release you--" + +_Merridew_, said the whisper in Hyrst's mind, _is a psychiatrist. Let +me handle this._ + +Hyrst sat still, his hands lax between his knees, his eyes wide and +fixed in astonishment. He heard the psychiatrist's questions, and he +heard the answers he gave to them, but he was merely an instrument, with +no conscious volition, it was the whisperer in his mind who was +answering. Then the warden shuffled some papers he held in his hand and +asked questions of his own. + +"You underwent the Humane Penalty without admitting your guilt. For the +record, now that the penalty has been paid, do you wish to change your +final statements?" + +The voice in Hyrst's mind, the secret voice, said swiftly to him. _Don't +argue with them, don't get angry, or they'll keep you on and on here._ + +"But--" thought Hyrst. + +_I know you're innocent, but they'll never believe it. They'll keep you +on for further psychiatric tests. They might get near the truth, +Hyrst--the truth about us._ + +Suddenly Hyrst began to understand, not all and not clearly, something +of what had happened to him. The obscuring mists began to lift from the +borders of his mind. + +"What is the truth," he asked in that inner quiet, "about us?" + +_You've spent fifty years in the Valley of the Shadow. You're changed, +Hyrst. You're not quite human any more. No one is, who goes through the +freeze. But they don't know that._ + +"Then you too--" + +_Yes. And I too changed. And that is why our minds can speak, even +though I am on Mars and you are on its moon. But they must not know +that. So don't argue, don't show emotion!_ + +The warden was waiting. Hyrst said aloud to him, slowly. "I have no +statement to make." + +The warden did not seem surprised. He went on, "According to your papers +here you also denied knowing the location of the Titanite for which +MacDonald was presumably murdered. Do you still deny that?" + +Hyrst was honestly surprised. "But surely, by now--" + +The warden shrugged. "According to this data, it never came to light." + +"I never knew," said Hyrst, "where it was." + +"Well," said the warden, "I've asked the question and that's as far as +my responsibility goes. But there's a visitor who has permission to see +you." + + * * * * * + +He and the doctor went out. Hyrst watched them go. He thought, So I'm +not quite human. Not quite human any more. Does that make me more, or +less, than a man? + +_Both_, said the secret voice. _Their minds are still closed to you. +Only our minds--we who have changed too--are open._ + +"Who are you?" asked Hyrst. + +_My name is Shearing. Now listen. When you are released, they'll bring +you down here to Mars. I'll be waiting for you. I'll help you._ + +"Why? What do you care about me, or a murder fifty years old?" + +_I'll tell you why later_, said the whisper of Shearing. _But you must +follow my guidance. There's danger for you, Hyrst, from the moment +you're released! There are those who have been waiting for you._ + +"Danger? But--" + +The door opened, and Hyrst's visitor came in. He was a man something +over sixty but the deep lines in his face made him look older. His face +was gray and drawn and twitching, but it became perfectly rigid and +white when he came to the foot of the bed and looked at Hyrst. There was +rage in his eyes, a rage so old and weary that it brought tears to them. + +"You should have stayed dead," he said to Hyrst. "Why couldn't they let +you stay dead?" + +Hyrst was shocked and startled. "Who are you? And why--" + +The other man was not even listening. His eyelids had closed, and when +they opened again they looked on naked agony. "It isn't right," he said. +"A murderer should die, and stay dead. Not come back." + +"I didn't murder MacDonald," Hyrst said, with the beginnings of anger. +"And I don't know why you--" + +He stopped. The white, aging face, the tear-filled, furious eyes, he did +not quite know what there was about them but it was there, like an old +remembered face peeping up through a blur of water for a moment, and +then withdrawing again. + +After a moment, Hyrst said hoarsely, "What's your name?" + +"You wouldn't know it," said the other. "I changed it, long ago." + +Hyrst felt a cold, and it seemed that he could not breathe. He said, +"But you were only eleven--" + +He could not go on. There was a terrible silence between them. He must +break it, he could not let it go on. He must speak. But all he could say +was to whisper, "I'm not a murderer. You must believe it. I'm going to +prove it--" + +"You murdered MacDonald. And you murdered my mother. I watched her age +and die, spending every penny, spending every drop of her blood and +ours, to get you back again. I pretended for fifty years that I too +believed you were innocent, when all the time I knew." + +Hyrst said, "I'm innocent." He tried to say a name, too, but he could +not speak the word. + +"No. You're lying, as you lied then. We found out. Mother hired +detectives, experts. Over and over, for decades--and always they found +the same thing. Landers and Saul could not possibly have killed +MacDonald, and you were the only other human being there. Proof? I can +show you barrels of it. And all of it proof that my father was a +murderer." + +He leaned a little toward Hyrst, and the tears ran down his lined, +careworn face. He said, "All right, you've come back. Alive, still +young. But I'm warning you. If you try again to get that Titanite, if +you shame us all again after all this time, if you even come near us, +I'll kill you." + +He went out. Hyrst sat, looking after him, and he thought that no man +before him had ever felt what tore him now. + +Inside his mind came Shearing's whisper, with a totally unexpected note +of compassion. _But some of us have, Hyrst. Welcome to the brotherhood. +Welcome to the Legion of Lazarus._ + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Mars roared and glittered tonight. And how was a man to stand the faces +and lights and sounds, when he had come back from the silence of +eternity? + +Hyrst walked through the flaring streets of Syrtis City with slow and +dragging steps. It was like being back on Earth. For this city was not +really part of the old dead planet, of the dark barrens that rolled away +beneath the night. This was the place of the rocket-men, the miners, the +schemers, the workers, who had come from another, younger world. Their +bars and entertainment houses flung a sun-like brilliance. Their ships, +lifting majestically skyward from the distant spaceport, wrote their +flaming sign on the sky. Only here and there moved one of the hooded, +robed humanoids who had once owned this world. + +_The next corner_, said the whisper in Hyrst's mind. _Turn there. No, +not toward the spaceport. The other way._ + +Hyrst thought suddenly, "Shearing." + +_Yes?_ + +"I am being followed." + +His physical ears heard nothing but the voices and music. His physical +eyes saw only the street crowd. Yet he knew. He knew it by a picture +that kept coming into his mind, of a blurred shape moving always behind +him. + +_Of course you're being followed_, came Shearing's thought. _I told you +they've been waiting for you. This is the corner. Turn._ + +Hyrst turned. It was a darker street, running away from the lights +through black warehouses and on the labyrinthine monolithic houses of +the humanoids. + +_Now look back_, Shearing commanded. _No, not with your eyes! With your +mind. Learn to use your talents._ + +Hyrst tried. The blurred image in his mind came clearer, and clearer +still, and it was a young man with a vicious mouth and flat uncaring +eyes. Hyrst shivered. "Who is he?" + +_He works for the men who have been waiting for you, Hyrst. Bring him +this way._ + +"This--way?" + +_Look ahead. With your mind. Can't you learn?_ + +Stung to sudden anger, Hyrst flung out a mental probe with a power he +hadn't known he possessed. In a place of total darkness between two +warehouses ahead, he saw a tall man lounging at his ease. Shearing +laughed. + +_Yes, it's me. Just walk past me. Don't hurry._ + +Hyrst glanced backward, mentally at the man following him through the +shadows. He was closer now, and quite silent. His face was tight and +secret. Hyrst thought, How do I know this Shearing isn't in it with him, +taking me into a place where they can both get at me-- + +He went past the two warehouses and he did not turn his head but his +mind saw Shearing waiting in the darkness. Then there was a soft, +shapeless sound, and he turned and saw Shearing bending over a huddled +form. + +"That was unkind of you," said Shearing, speaking aloud but not loudly. + +Hyrst, still shaking, said, "But not exactly strange. I've never seen +you before. And I still don't know what this is all about." + +Shearing smiled, as he knelt beside the prone, unmoving body. Even here +in the shadows, Hyrst could see him with these new eyes of the mind. +Shearing was a big man. His hair was grizzled along the sides of his +head, and his eyes were dark and very keen. He reached out one hand and +turned the head of the prone young man, and they looked at the lax, +loose face. + +"He's not dead?" said Hyrst. + +"Of course not. But it will be a while before he wakes." + +"But who is he?" + +Shearing stood up. "I never saw him before. But I know who he's working +for." + + * * * * * + +Hyrst flung a sudden question at Shearing, and almost without thinking +he followed it to surprise the answer in Shearing's mind. The question +was, _Who are you working for_? And the answer was a woman, a tall and +handsome woman with angry eyes, standing against a drift of stars. There +was a ship, all lonely on a dark plain, and she was pointing to it, and +somehow Hyrst knew that it was vitally important to her, and to +Shearing, and perhaps even to himself. But before he could do more than +register this fleeting vision on his own consciousness, Shearing's mind +slammed shut with exactly the same violent effect as a door slammed in +his face. He reeled back, throwing up his arms in a futile but +instinctive gesture, and Shearing said angrily, + +"You're getting too good. I'll give you a social hint--it's customary to +knock before you enter." + +Hyrst said, still holding the pieces of his head together, "All +right--sorry. So who is she?" + +"She's one of us. She wants what we want." + +"I want only to find out who murdered MacDonald!" + +"You want more than that, Hyrst, though you don't know it yet. But +MacDonald's murderer is part of what we're after." + +He took Hyrst's arm. "We don't have long. Thanks to my guidance, you +slipped them all except this one. But they'll be hounding after our +trail very quickly." + +They went on along the shadowed street. The glare of the lights died +back behind them, and they moved in darkness with only the keen stars to +watch them, and the cold, gritty wind blowing in from the barrens, and +the dark door-ways of the mastaba-like monolithic houses of the +humanoids staring at them like sightless eyes. Hyrst looked up at the +bright, tiny moon that crept amid the stars, and a deep shaking took him +as he thought of men lying up there in the deathly sleep, of himself +lying there year after year.... + +"In here," said Shearing. It was one of the frigid, musty tombs that the +humanoids called home. It was dark and there was nothing in it at all. +"We can't risk a light. We don't need it, anyway." + +They sat down. Hyrst said desperately, "Listen, I want to know some +things. Exactly what are we doing here?" + +Shearing answered deliberately, "We are hiding from those who want you, +and we are waiting for a chance to go to our friends." + +"Our friends? Your friends, maybe. That woman--I don't know her, and--" + +"Now _you_ listen, Hyrst. I'll tell you this much about us now. We're +Lazarites, like you, with the same powers as you. But all Lazarites are +not on _our_ side." + +Hyrst thought about that. "Then those others who are hunting us--" + +"There are Lazarites among them, too. Not many, but a few. You don't +know us, you don't know them. Do you want to leave me and go back out +and let them have you?" + +Hyrst remembered the adder-like face of the young man who had come after +him through the shadows. After a long moment he said, "Well. But what +are _you_ after?" + +"The thing that MacDonald was killed for, fifty years ago." + +Hyrst said, "The Titanite? They said it hadn't ever been found. But how +it could have remained hidden so long--" + +"I want you," Shearing said, "to tell me all about how MacDonald died. +Everything you can remember." + +Hyrst asked eagerly, "You think we can find out who killed him? After +all this time? God, if we could--my son--" + +"Quiet, Hyrst. Go ahead and tell me. Not in words. Just remember what +happened, and I'll get it." + +Yet, by sheer lifetime habit, Hyrst could not remember without first +putting it into words in his own mind, as they two sat in the cold, +whispering darkness. + +"There were four of us out there on Titan, you must already know that. +And only four--" + + * * * * * + +Four men. And one was named MacDonald, an engineer, a secretive, selfish +and enormously greedy man. MacDonald was the man who found a fortune, +and kept it secret, and died. + +Landers was one. A lean, brown, lively man, an excellent physicist with +a friendly manner and no obvious ambitions. + +Saul was one, and he was big and blond and quiet, a good drinking +companion, a good geologist, a lover of good music. If he had any darker +passions, he kept them hidden. + +Hyrst was the fourth man, and the only one of the four still living.... + +He remembered now. He saw the black and bitter crags of Titan stark +against the glory of the Rings, and he saw two figures moving across a +plain of methane snow, their helmets gleaming in the Saturn-light. +Behind them in the plain were the flat, half-buried concrete structures +of the little refinery, and all around them were the spidery roads where +the big half-tracs dragged their loads of uranium ore from the +enchaining mountains. + +The two men were quarrelling. + +"You're angry," MacDonald was saying, "because it was _I_ who found it." + +"Listen," Hyrst said. "We're sick, all three of us, of hearing you brag +about it." + +"I'll bet you are," said MacDonald smugly. "The first find of a Titanite +pocket for years. The rarest, costliest stuff in the System. If you know +the way they've been bidding to buy it from me--" + +"I do know," Hyrst said. "You've done nothing for weeks but give forth +mysterious hints--" + +"And you don't like that," MacDonald said. "Of course you don't! It's no +part of our refinery deal, it's mine, I've got it and it's hidden where +nobody can find it till I sell it. Naturally, you don't like that." + +"All _right_," said Hyrst. "So the Titanite find is all yours. You're +still a partner in the refinery, remember. And you've still got an +obligation to the rest of us, so you can damn well get in and do your +job." + +"Don't worry. I've always done my job." + +"More or less," said Hyrst. "For your information, I've seen better +engineers in grade-school. There's Number Three hoist. It's been busted +for a week. Now let's get in there and fix it." + +The two figures in Hyrst's memory toiled on, out of the area of roads to +the edge of the landing field, where the ships come to take away the +refined uranium. Number Three hoist rose in a stiff, ugly column from +the ground. It was supposed to fetch the uranium up from the +underground storage bins and load it into a specially-built hot-tank +ship in position at the dock. But Number Three had balked and refused to +perform its task. In this completely automated plant, men were only +important when something went wrong. Now something was wrong, and it was +up to MacDonald, the mechanical engineer, and Hyrst, the electronics +man, to set it right. + +Hyrst opened the hatch, and they climbed the metal stairs to the upper +chamber. Number Three's brain was here, its scanners, its tabulating and +recording apparatus, its signal system. A red light pulsated on a panel, +alone in a string of white ones. + +"Trouble's in the hoist-mechanism," said Hyrst. "That's your +department." He smiled and sat down on a metal bench in the center of +the room, with his back to the stair. "D Level." + +MacDonald grumbled, and went to a skeletal cage built over a round +segment of the floor. Various tools were clipped to the ribs of the +cage. MacDonald pulled an extra rayproof protectall over his vac-suit +and stepped inside the cage, pressing a button. The cage dropped, into a +circular shaft that paralleled the hoist right down to the feeder +mechanism. + +Hyrst waited. Inside his helmet he could hear MacDonald breathing and +grumbling as he worked away, repairing a break in the belt. He did not +hear anything else. Then something happened, so swiftly that he had +never had any memory of it, and some time later he came to and looked +for MacDonald. The cage was way down at the bottom of the shaft and +MacDonald was in it, with a very massive pedestal-block on top of him. +The block had been unbolted from the floor and dragged to the edge of +the shaft, and it could not possibly have been an accident that it +tumbled in, between the wide-apart ribs of the cage. + +And that's how MacDonald died, Hyrst thought--and so _I_ died. They said +I forced the secret of his Titanite find out of him, and then killed +him. + +Shearing asked swiftly, "MacDonald never gave you any hint of where he'd +hidden the Titanite?" + +"No," said Hyrst. He paused, and then said, "It's the Titanite you're +after?" + +Shearing answered carefully. "In a way, yes. But _we_ didn't kill +MacDonald for it. Those who did kill him are the men who are after you +now. They're afraid you might lead us to the stuff." + +Hyrst swore, shaking with sudden anger. "Damn it, I won't be treated +like a child. Not by you, by anyone. I want--" + +"You want the men who killed MacDonald," said Shearing. "I know. I +remember what was in your mind when you met your son." + +A weakness took Hyrst and he leaned his forehead against the cold stone +wall. + +"I'm sorry," said Shearing. "But we want what you want--and more. So +much more that you can't dream it. You must trust us." + +"Us? That woman?" + + * * * * * + +Once again in Shearing's mind Hyrst saw the woman with her head against +the stars, and the ship looming darkly. He saw the woman much more +clearly, and she was like a fire, burning with anger, burning with a +single-minded, dedicated purpose. She was beautiful, and frightening. + +"She, and others," said Shearing. "Listen. We must go soon. We're to be +picked up, secretly. Will you trust us--or would you rather trust +yourself to those who are hunting you?" + +Hyrst was silent. Shearing said, "Well?" + +"I'll go with you," said Hyrst. + +They went out into the cold darkness, and Hyrst heard Shearing say in +his mind, "I wouldn't try to run--" + +_But it wasn't Shearing speaking in his mind now, it was a third man._ + +"I wouldn't try to run--" + +Frantically startled, Hyrst threw out his mental vision and saw the men +who stood around them in the darkness, four men, three of them +holding the wicked little weapons called bee-guns in their hands. The +fourth man came closer, a dark slender man with a face like a fox, +high-boned, narrow-eyed, smiling. It came to Hyrst that the three with +weapons were only ordinary men, and that it was this fourth man whose +mind had spoken. + +He was speaking aloud now. "I want you alive, believe me--but there are +endless gradations between alive and dead. My men are very accurate." + +Shearing's face was suddenly drawn and exhausted. "Don't try anything," +he warned Hyrst wearily. "He means it." + +The dark man shook his head at Shearing. "This wasn't nice of you. You +knew we had a particular interest in Mr. Hyrst." He turned to Hyrst and +smiled. His teeth were small and very neat and white. "Did you know that +Shearing has been keeping a shield over your mind as well as his? A +little too large a task for him. When you jarred his mind open for an +instant, it was all we needed to lead us here." + +He went on. "Mr. Hyrst, my name is Vernon. We'd like you to come with +us." + +Vernon nodded to the three accurate men, and the whole little group +began to walk in the direction of the spaceport. Shearing seemed almost +asleep on his feet now. It was as though he had expended all his energy +on a task, and failed at it, and was now quiescent, like an empty well +waiting to fill again. + +"Where are we going?" Hyrst asked, and Vernon answered: + +"To see a gentleman you've never heard of, in a place you've never +been." He added, with easy friendliness, "Don't worry, Mr. Hyrst, we +have nothing against _you_. You're new to this--ah--state of life. You +shouldn't be asked to make decisions or agreements until you know both +sides of the question. Mr. Shearing was taking an unfair advantage." + +Remembering the dark hard purpose Shearing had let him see in his mind, +Hyrst could not readily dispute that. But he put out an exploring probe +in the direction of Vernon's mind. + +It was shut tight. + +They walked on, toward the spaceport gates. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +All space was before him, hung with the many-colored lights of the +stars, intensely brilliant in the black nothing. It was incredibly +splendid, but it was too much like what he had looked at with his cold +unseeing eyes for fifty years. He looked down--down being relative to +where he was standing in the blister-window--and saw the whole Belt +swarming by under him like a drift of fireflies. He quivered inwardly +with a chill vertigo, and turned away. + +Vernon was talking aloud. He had been talking for some time. He was +stretched out on a soft, deep lounge, smoking, pretending to sip from a +tall glass. + +"So you see, Mr. Hyrst, we can help you a lot. It's not easy for a +Lazarite--for one of us--to get a job. I know. People have a--well, a +_feeling_. Now Mr. Bellaver--" + +"Where is Shearing?" asked Hyrst. He came and stood in the center of the +room, with the soft lights in his eyes and the soft carpets under his +feet. His mind reached out, uneasy and restless, but it seemed to be +surrounded by a zone of fog that tangled and confused and deflected it. +He could not find Shearing. + +"We've been here for hours," he said. "Where is he?" + +"Probably talking a deal with Mr. Bellaver. I wouldn't worry. As I was +saying, Bellaver Incorporated is interested in men like you. We're the +largest builders of spacecraft in the System, and we can afford--" + +"I know all about it," said Hyrst impatiently. "Old Quentin Bellaver +was busy swallowing up his rivals when I went through the door." + +"Then," said Vernon imperturbably, "you should realize how much we can +do for you. Electronics is a vital branch--" + +Hyrst moved erratically around the room, looking at things and not +really seeing them, hearing Vernon's voice but not understanding what it +said. He was growing more and more uneasy. It was as though someone was +calling to him, urgently, but just out of earshot. He kept straining, +with his ears and his mind, and Vernon's voice babbled on, and the +barrier was like a wall around his thoughts. + +They had been aboard this ship for a long time now, and he had not seen +Shearing since they came through the hatch. It was not really a ship, of +course. It had no power of its own, depending on powerful tugs to tow +it. It was Walter Bellaver's floating pleasure-palace, and the damnedest +thing Hyrst had ever seen. Vernon said it could and often did accommodate +three or four hundred guests in the utmost luxury. There was nobody +aboard it now but Bellaver, Vernon, Hyrst and Shearing, the three very +accurate men, and perhaps a dozen others including stewards and the +crews of the tugs and Bellaver's yacht. It was named the _Happy Dream_, +and it was presently drifting in an excessively lonely orbit high above +the ecliptic, between nothing and nowhere. + +Vernon had been with him almost constantly. He was getting tired of +Vernon. Vernon talked too much. + +"Listen," he said. "You can stop selling Bellaver. I'm not looking for a +job. Where's Shearing?" + +"Oh, forget Shearing," said Vernon, impatient in his turn. "You never +heard of him until a few days ago." + +"He helped me." + +"For reasons of his own." + +"What's _your_ reason? And Bellaver's?" + +"Mr. Bellaver is interested in all social problems. And I'm a Lazarite +myself, so naturally I have a sympathy for others like me." Vernon sat +up, putting his glass aside on a low table. He had drunk hardly any of +the contents. + +"Shearing," he said, "is a member of a gang who some time ago stole a +particular property of Bellaver Incorporated. You're not involved in the +quarrel, Mr. Hyrst. I'd advise you, as a friend, to stay not involved." + +Hyrst's mind and his ears were stretched and quivering, straining to +hear a cry for help just a little too far away. + +"What kind of a property?" asked Hyrst. + +Vernon shrugged. "The Bellavers have never said what kind, for fairly +obvious reasons." + +"Something to do with ships?" + +"I suppose so. It isn't important to me. Nor to you, Mr. Hyrst." + +"Will you pour me a drink?" said Hyrst, pointing to the cellaret close +beside Vernon. "Yes, that's fine. How long ago?" + +"What?" asked Vernon, measuring whisky into a glass. + +"The theft," said Hyrst, and threw his mind suddenly against the +barrier. For one fleeting second he forced a crack in it. "Something +over fifty--", said Vernon, and let the glass fall. He spun around from +the cellaret and was halfway to his feet when Hyrst hit him. He hit him +three or four times before he would stay down, and three or four more +before he would lie quiet. Hyrst straightened up, breathing hard. His +lip was bleeding and he wiped it with the back of his hand. "That was a +little too big a job for _you_, Mr. Vernon," he said viciously. "Trying +to keep my mind blanked and under control for hours." He stuffed a +handkerchief into Vernon's mouth, and tied him up with his own +cummerbund, and shoved him out of sight behind an enormous bed. Then he +opened the door carefully, and went out. + + * * * * * + +There was nobody in the corridor. This was wide and ornate, with doors +opening off it, and nothing to show what was behind them or which way to +go. Hyrst stood still a minute, getting control of himself. The barrier +no longer obscured his mind. He let it rove, finding that every time he +did that it was easier, and the images clearer. He heard Shearing again, +as he had heard him in that one second when Vernon's guard had faltered. +His face became set and ugly. He began to move toward the stern of the +_Happy Dream_. + +Heavy metal-cloth curtains closed this end of the corridor. Beyond them +was a ballroom in which only one dim light now burned, a vastness of +black polished floors and crystal windows looking upon space. Hyrst's +footsteps were hushed and swallowed up in whispering echoes. He made his +way across to another set of curtains, edged between them with infinite +caution, and found himself in the upper aisle of an amphitheater. + +It was pitch dark where he was, and he stood perfectly still, exploring +with his mind. He could not see any guards. The rows of empty seats were +arranged in circles around a central pit, large enough for any +entertainment Mr. Bellaver might decide to give. The pit was brilliantly +lighted, and from somewhere lower down came the intermittent sound of +voices. + +Also from the pit came Shearing's cries. Hyrst began to tremble with +outrage and anger, and his still-uncertain mental control faltered +dangerously. Then from out of nowhere, a voice spoke in his mind, and he +saw the face of the woman he had seen twice before, the woman Shearing +served. + +"Careful," she said. "There is a Lazarite with Bellaver. His attention +is all on Shearing, but you must keep your mind shielded. I'll help +you." + +Hyrst whispered. "Thanks." He felt calm now, alert and capable. He crept +along the dark aisle, toward the pit. + +Mr. Bellaver's theater lacked nothing. The large circular stage area was +fitted with upper and lower electro-magnets for the use of acrobats and +dancers with null-grav specialties. They could perform without +disturbing the regular grav-field of the _Happy Dream_, thus keeping the +guests comfortable, and by skillful manipulation of the magnetic fields +more spectacular stunts were possible than in ordinary no-gravity. + +Shearing was in the pit, between the upper and lower magnets. He wore an +acrobat's metal attraction-harness, strapped on over his clothes. When +Hyrst looked over the rail he was hanging at the central point of +weightlessness, where everything in a man floats free and his senses are +lost in a dreadful vertigo unless he has been conditioned over a long +period of time to get used to it. Shearing had not been conditioned. + +"Careful," said the woman's warning voice in his mind. "His life depends +on you. No, don't try to make contact with him! The Lazarite would sense +you--" + +Shearing began a slow ascension toward the upper magnet as the current +was increased, from some unseen control board. He moved convulsively +turning horizontally around the axis of his own middle like a toy spun +on a string. His back was uppermost, and Hyrst could not see his face. + +"Bellaver and the Lazarite," said the woman quietly, "are trying to +learn from Shearing where our ship is. He has been able so far to keep +his mind shielded. He is--a very brave man. But you'll have to hurry. +He's near the breaking point." + +Shearing was now almost level with Hyrst, suspended over that open pit, +looking down, a long way. + +"You'll have to be quick, Hyrst. Please. Please get him out of there +before we have to kill him." + +The current in the magnet was cut and Shearing fell, with a long +neighing scream. + + * * * * * + +Hyrst looked down. The repelling force of the lower magnet cushioned the +fall, and the upper magnet took hold, hard. Shearing stopped about three +feet above the stage floor and started slowly to rise again. He seemed +to be crying. Hyrst turned and ran back to the top of the aisle. Halfway +around the circle he found steps and went tearing down them. On the next +level--there were three--he saw two men leaning over the broad rail, +watching Shearing. + +"Yes, there they are. You must find a weapon--" + +Hyrst looked around, blinking like a mole in the dark. Seats, nothing +but seats. Ornamentation, but all solid. Small metal cylinder, set in a +wall niche. Chemical extinguisher. Yes. Compact and heavy. He took it. + +"Hurry. He's almost through--" + +The two men were tense and hungry, eager as wolves. One was the +Lazarite, a grey man, old and seamed with living and none of it good. +The other was Bellaver, and he was young. He was tall and fresh-faced, +impeccably shaven, impeccably dressed, the keen, clean, public-spirited +executive. + +"I can give you more if you want it, Shearing," Bellaver said, his +fingers ready on a control-plate set into the broad rail. "How about +it?" + +"Shut up, Bellaver," whispered the Lazarite aloud. "I've almost got it. +Almost--" His face was agonized with concentration. + +"_Now!_" + +The woman's voiceless cry in his mind sent Hyrst forward. His hand swung +up and then down in a crashing arc, elongated by the heavy cylinder. The +Lazarite fell without a sound. He fell across Bellaver, pushing him back +from the control-plate, and lay over his feet, bleeding gently into the +thick pile of the carpet. Bellaver's mouth and eyes opened wide. He +looked at the Lazarite and then at Hyrst. He leaped backward, away from +the encumbrance at his ankles, making the first hoarse effort at a shout +for help. Hyrst did not give him time to finish it. The first row of +seats caught Bellaver and threw him, and Hyrst swung the cylinder again. +Bellaver collapsed. + +"Was I in time?" Hyrst asked of the woman, in his mind. He thought she +was crying when she answered, "Yes." He smiled. He stepped over the +Lazarite and went to the control-plate and began to work with it until +he had Shearing safely on the floor of the stage. Then he cut the power +and ran down another flight of steps to the bottom level. His mind was +able to range free now. He could not sense anyone close at hand. +Bellaver seemed to have sent underlings elsewhere in the _Happy Dream_ +while he worked on Shearing. It was nothing for which a man would seek +witnesses. Hyrst vaulted the rail onto the stage and dragged Shearing +away from the magnet. He felt uncomfortable in all that glare of light. +He hauled and grunted until he got Shearing over the rail into the dark. +Then he wrestled the harness off him. Shearing sobbed feebly, and +retched. + +"Can you stand up?" said Hyrst. "Hey. Shearing." He shook him, hard. +"Stand up." + +He got Shearing up, a one-hundred-and-ninety pound rag doll draped over +his shoulders. He began to walk him out of the theater. "Are you still +there?" he asked of the woman. + +The answer came into his mind swiftly. "Yes. I'll help you watch. Do you +see where the skiff is?" + +It was in a pod under the belly of the _Happy Dream_. "I see it," said +Hyrst. + +"Take that. Bellaver's yacht is faster, but you'd need the crew. The +skiff you can handle yourself." + + * * * * * + +He walked Shearing into a fore-and-aft corridor. Shearing's feet were +beginning to move of their own accord, and he had stopped retching. But +his eyes were still blank and he staggered aimlessly. Hyrst's nerves +were prickling with a mixture of fierce satisfaction and fear. Far above +in the lush suite he felt Vernon stir and come to. There were men +somewhere closer, quite close. He forced his mind to see. Two of the +very accurate men who had been with Vernon were playing cards with two +others who were apparently stewards. The third one lolled in a chair, +smoking. All five were in a lounge just around the corner of a +transverse corridor. The door was open. + +Without realizing that he had done so, Hyrst took control of Shearing's +mind. "Steady, now. We're going past that corner without a sound. You +hear me, Shearing? Not a sound." + +Shearing's eyes flickered vaguely. He frowned, and his step became +steadier. The floor of the corridor was covered in a tough resilient +plastic that deadened footsteps. They passed the corner. The men +continued to play cards. Hyrst sent up a derisive insult to Vernon and +told Shearing to hurry a little. The stair leading down into the pod was +just ahead, ten yards, five-- + +A man appeared in the corridor ahead, coming from some storeroom with a +rack of plastic bottles in his hand. + +"You'll have to run now," came the woman's thought, coolly. "Don't +panic. You can still make it." + +The man with the bottles yelled. He began to run toward Hyrst and +Shearing, dropping the rack to leave his hands free. In the loungeroom +behind them the card-party broke up. Hyrst took Shearing by the arm and +clamped down even tighter on his mind, giving him a single command. They +ran together, fast. + +The men from the lounge poured out into the main corridor. Their voices +were confused and very loud. Ahead, the man who had been bringing the +bottles was now between Hyrst and the stair. He was a brown, hard man +who looked like a pilot. He said, "You better stop," and then he +grappled with Hyrst and Shearing. The three of them spun around in a +clumsy dance, Shearing moving like an automaton. Hyrst and the pilot +flailing away with their fists, and then the pilot fell back hard on the +seat of his pants, with the blood bursting out of his nose and his eyes +glazing. Hyrst raced for the stair, propelling Shearing. They tumbled +down it with a shot from a bee-gun buzzing over their heads. It was a +short stair with a double-hatch door at the bottom. They fell through +it, and Hyrst slammed it shut almost on the toes of a man coming down +the stair behind them. The automatic lock took hold. Hyrst told +Shearing, "You can stop now." + +A few minutes later, from the great swag belly of the _Happy Dream_, a +small space-skiff shot away and was quickly lost in the star-shot +immensity above the Belt. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +It did not stay lost for long. Shearing was at the controls. The +chronometer showed fourteen hours and twenty-seven minutes since they +left the _Happy Dream_. Shearing had spent eight of those hours in a +species of comatose slumber, from which he had roused out practically +normal. Now Hyrst was heavily asleep in the pneumo-chair beside him. + +Shearing punched him. "Wake up." + +After several more punches Hyrst groaned and opened his eyes. He mumbled +a question, and Shearing pointed out the wide curved port that gave full +vision forward and on both sides. + +"It was a good try," he said, "but I don't think we're going to make it. +Look there. No, farther back. See it? Now the other side. And there's +one astern." + +Still sleepy, but alarmed, Hyrst swung his mental vision around. It was +easier than looking. Two fast, powerful tugs from the _Happy Dream_, and +Bellaver's yacht. He frowned in heavy concentration. "Bellaver's aboard. +He's got a mighty goose-egg on his head. Vernon too, with his shields up +tight. The three accurate men and the pilot--his nose is a thing of +beauty--plus crew. Nine in all. Two men each to the tugs. The other +Lazarite, the one I laid out--he's not along." + +Shearing nodded approvingly. "You're getting good. Now take a glance at +our fuel-tanks and tell me what you see." + +Hyrst sat up straight, fully awake. "Practically," he said, "nothing." + +"This skiff was meant for short hops only. We've got enough for perhaps +another forty-five minutes, less if we get too involved. They're faster +than we are, so they'll catch up to us--oh, say in about half an hour. +We have friends coming--" + +"Friends?" + +"Certainly. You don't think we let each other down, do you? Not the +brotherhood. But they had to come from a long way off. We can't possibly +rendezvous under an hour and a half, maybe more if--" + +"I know," said Hyrst. "If we all get involved." He looked out the port. +In the beginning, following directions from the young woman--whose name +he had never thought to ask--he had set a course that plunged him deep +into one of the wildest sectors of the Belt. He was not a pilot. He +could, like most men of his time, handle a simple craft under simple +conditions, but these conditions were not simple. The skiff's radar was +short-range and it had no automatic deflection reflexes. Hyrst had had +to fly on ESP, spotting meteor swarms, asteroids, debris of all sorts in +this poetically named hell-hole, the Path of Minor Worlds, and then +figuring out how to get by, through, or over them without a crash. +Shearing had relieved him just in time. + +He glowered at the whirling, glittering mess outside, the dust, the +shards and fragments of a shattered world. It merged into mist and his +mind was roving again. Shearing jockeyed the controls. He was flying +esper too. The tugs and Bellaver's fast yacht were closing up the gap. +The level in the tanks went down, used up not in free fall but in the +constant maneuvering. + +Hyrst swung mentally inboard to check vac-suits and equipment in the +locker, and then out again. His vision was strong and free. He could +look at the Sun, and see the splendid fires of the corona. He could look +at Mars, old and cold and dried-up, and at Jupiter, massive and sullen +and totally useless except as an anchor for its family of crazy moons. +He could look farther than that. He could look at the stars. In a little +while, he thought, he could look at whole galaxies. His heart pounded +and the breath came hot and hard into his lungs. It was a good feeling. +It made all that had gone before almost worthwhile. The primal +immensities drew him, the black gulfs lit with gold and crimson and +peacock-colored flames. He wanted to go farther and farther, into-- + +"You're learning too fast," said Shearing dryly. "Stick to something +small and close and sordid, namely an asteroid where we can land." + +"I found one," said Hyrst. "There." + + * * * * * + +Shearing followed his mental nudge. "Hell," he said, "couldn't you have +spotted something better? These Valhallas give me the creeps." + +"The others within reach are too small, or there's no cover. We'll have +quite a little time to wait. I take it you would like to be alive when +your friends come." + +Vernon's thought broke in on them abruptly. "You have just one chance of +that, and that's to give yourselves up, right now." + +"Does the socially-conscious Mr. Bellaver still want to give me that +job?" asked Hyrst. + +"I'm warning you," said Vernon. + +"Your mind is full of hate," said Hyrst. "Cleanse it." He shut Vernon +out as easily as hanging up a phone. Under stress, his new powers were +developing rapidly. He felt a little drunk with them. Shearing said, +"Don't get above yourself, boy. You're still a cub, you know." Then he +grinned briefly and added, "By the way, thanks." + +Hyrst said, "I owed it to you. And you can thank your lady friend, too. +She had a big hand in it." + +"Christina," said Shearing softly. "Yes." + +He dropped the skiff sharply in a descending curve, toward the asteroid. + +"Do you think," said Hyrst, "you could now tell me what the devil this +is all about?" + +Shearing said, "We've got a starship." + +Hyrst stared. For a long time he didn't say anything. Then, "You've got +a starship? But nobody has! People talk of someday reaching other stars, +but nobody tried yet, nobody _could_ try--" He broke off, suddenly +remembering a dark, lonely ship, and a woman with angry eyes watching +it. Even in his astonishment, things began to come clearer to him. "So +that's it--a starship. And Bellaver wants it?" + +Shearing nodded. + +"Well," said Hyrst. "Go on." + +"You've already developed some amazing mental capabilities since you +came back from beyond the door. You'll find that's only the beginning. +The radiation, the exposure--something. The simple act of pseudo-death, +perhaps. Anyway, the brain is altered, stepped up, a great deal of its +normally unused potential released. You've always been a +fair-to-middling technician. You'll find your rating boosted, +eventually, to the genius level." + +The skiff veered wildly as Shearing dodged a whizzing chunk of rock the +size of a skyscraper. + +"That's one reason," he said, "why we wanted to get you before Bellaver +did. The number of technicians undergoing the Humane Penalty is quite +small. We--the brotherhood--need all of them we can get." + +"But that wasn't the main reason you wanted me?" pressed Hyrst. + +Shearing looked at him. "No. We wanted you mainly because you were +present when MacDonald died. Handled right--" + +He paused. The asteroid was rushing at them, and Bellaver's ships were +close behind. Hyrst was already in a vac-suit, all but the helmet. + +"Take the controls," said Shearing. "As she goes. Don't worry, I'll make +the landing." He pulled the vac-suit on. "Handled right," he said, "you +might be the key to that murder, and to the mystery behind it that the +brotherhood _must_ solve." + +He took the controls again. They helped each other on with their +helmets. The asteroid filled the port, a wild, weird jumble of +vari-colored rock. + +"I don't see how," said Hyrst, into his helmet mike. + +"Latent impressions," answered Shearing briefly, and sent the skiff +skittering in between two great black monoliths, to settle with a jar on +a pan of rock as smooth and naked as a ballroom floor. + +"Make it fast," said Shearing. "They're right on top of us." + + * * * * * + +The skiff, designed as Sheering had said for short hops, could not +accommodate the extra weight and bulk of an airlock. You were supposed +to land in atmosphere. If you didn't, you just pushed a release-button +and hung on. The air was exhausted in one whistling swoosh that took +with it everything loose. The moisture in it crystallized instantly, and +before this frozen drift had even begun to settle, Hyrst and Shearing +were on their way. + +They crossed the rock pan in great swaggering bounds. The gravity was +light, the horizon only twenty or so miles away. Literally in his mind's +eye Hyrst could see the three ships arrowing at them. He opened contact +with Vernon, knowing Shearing had done so too. Vernon had been looking +for them. + +"Mr. Bellaver still prefers to have you alive," he said. "If you'll wait +quietly beside the skiff, we'll take you aboard." + +Shearing gave him a hard answer. + +"Very well," said Vernon. "Mr. Bellaver wants me to make it clear to you +that he doesn't intend for you to get away. So you can interpret that as +you please. Be seeing you." + +He broke contact, knowing that Hyrst and Shearing would close him out. +From now on, Hyrst realized, he would keep track of them the way he and +Shearing had kept track of obstructions in the path of flight, by mental +"sight". The yacht was extremely close. Suddenly Hyrst had a confused +glimpse of a hand on a control-lever over-lapped by a view of the +black-mouthed tubes of the yacht's belly-jets. He dived, literally, into +a crack between one of the monoliths and a slab that leaned against its +base, dragging Shearing with him. + +The yacht swept over. Nothing happened. It dropped out of sight, braking +for a landing. + +"Imagination," said Shearing. "You realize a possibility, and you think +it's so. Tricky. But I don't blame you. The safe side is the best one." + +Hyrst looked out the crack. One of the tugs was coming in to land beside +the skiff, while the other one circled. + +"Now what?" he said. "I suppose we can dodge them for a while, but we +can't hide from Vernon." + +Shearing chuckled. He had got his look of tough competence back. He +seemed almost to be enjoying himself. "I told you you were only a cub. +How do you suppose we've kept the starship hidden all these years? +Watch." + +In the flick of a second Hyrst went blind and deaf. Then he realized +that it was only his mental eyes and ears that were blanked out as +though a curtain had been drawn across them. His physical eyes were +still clear and sharp, and when Shearing's voice came over the helmet +audio he heard it without trouble. + +"This is called the cloak. I suppose you could call it an extension of +the shield, though it's more like a force field. It's no bar to physical +vision, and it has the one great disadvantage of being opaque both ways +to mental energy. But it does act as a deflector. If Vernon follows us +now, he'll have to do it the hard way. Stick close by me, so I don't +have too wide a spread. And it'll be up to you to lead. I can't do both. +Let's go." + +Hyrst had, unconsciously, become so used to his new perceptions that it +made him feel dull and helpless to be without them. He led off down one +of the smooth rock avenues, going away from the skiff and the tug which +had just landed. + +On either side of the avenue were monoliths, irregularly spaced and of +different sizes and heights but following an apparently orderly plan. +The light of the distant sun lay raw and blinding on them, casting +shadows as black and sharp-edged as though drawn upon the rock with +india ink. + +You could see faces in the monoliths. You could see mighty outlines, +singly and in groups, of gods and beasts and men, in combat, in +suppliance, in death and burial. That was why these asteroids were +called Valhallas. Twenty-six of them had been found so far, and studied, +and still no one could say certainly whether or not the hands of any +living beings had fashioned them. They might be actual monuments, +defaced by cosmic dust, by collision with the myriad fragments of the +Belt, by time. They might be one of Nature's casual jokes, created by +the same agencies. No actual tombs had been found, nor tools, nor +definitely identifiable artifacts. But still the feeling persisted, in +the airless silence of the avenues, that some passing race had paused +and wrought for itself a memorial more enduring than its fame, and then +gone on into the great galactic sea, never to return. + + * * * * * + +Hyrst had never been on a Valhalla before. He understood why Shearing +had not wanted to land and he wished now that they hadn't. There was +something overwhelmingly sad and awesome about these leaning, towering +figures of stone, moving forever in their lonely orbit, going nowhere, +returning to nowhere. + +Then he saw the second tug overhead. He forgot his daydreams. "They're +going to act as a spotter," he said. Shearing grunted but did not speak. +His whole mind was concentrated on maintaining the cloak. Hyrst stopped +him still in the pitchy shadow under what might have been a kneeling +woman sixty feet high. He watched the tug. It lazed away, circling +slowly, and he did not think it had seen them. He could not any longer +see the place where they had landed, but he assumed that by now the +yacht had looped back and come in--if not there somewhere close by. They +could figure on nine to eleven men hunting them, depending on whether +they left the ships guarded or not. Either way, it was too many. + +"Listen," he said aloud to Shearing. "Listen, I want to ask you. What +you said about latent impressions--you think I might have seen and heard +the killer even though I was unconscious?" + +"Especially heard. Possible. With your increased power, and ours, +impressions received through sense-channels but not recognized at the +time or remembered later might be recovered." He shook his head. "Don't +bother me." + +"I just wanted to know," said Hyrst. He thought of his son, and the two +daughters he hoped he would never see. He thought of Elena. It was too +late to do anything for her, but the others were still living. So was +he, and he intended to stay that way, at least until he had done what he +set out to do. + +"Old Bellaver was behind that killing, wasn't he? Old Quentin, this +one's grandfather." + +"Yes. Don't bother me." + +"One thing more. Do we Lazarites live longer than men?" + +Shearing gave him a curious, brief look. "Yes." + +The tug was out of sight behind a massive rearing shape that seemed to +clutch a broken ship between its paws. Symbolic, perhaps, of space? Who +knew? Hyrst led Shearing in wild impala-like leaps across an open space, +and into a narrow way that twisted, filled with darkness, among the +bases of a group that resembled an outlandish procession following a +king. + +"How much longer?" + +"Humane Penalty first came in a hundred and fourteen years ago, right? +After Seitz' method was perfected for saving spacemen. I was one of the +first they used it on." + +"My God," said Hyrst. Yet, somehow, he was not as surprised as he might +have been. + +"I've aged," said Shearing apologetically. "I was only twenty-seven +then." + +They crouched, beside a humped shape like a gigantic lizard with a long +tail. The tug swung overhead and slowly on. + +Hyrst said, "Then it's possible the one who killed MacDonald is still +alive?" + +"Possible. Probable." + +Hyrst bared his teeth, in what was not at all like a smile. "Good," he +said. "That makes me happy." + +They did not do any talking after that. They had had their helmet radios +operating on practically no power at all, so that they couldn't be +picked up outside a radius of a few yards, but even that might be too +close, now that Bellaver's men had had time to get suited and fan out. +They shut them off entirely, communicating by yanks and nudges. + + * * * * * + +For what seemed to Hyrst like a very long time, but which was probably +less than half an hour in measured minutes, they dodged from one patch +of shadow to another, following an erratic course that Hyrst thought +would lead them away from the ships. Once more the tug went over, slow, +and then Hyrst didn't see it again. The idea that they might have given +up occurred to him but he dismissed it as absurd. With the helmet mike +shut off, the silence was beginning to get on his nerves. Once he looked +up and saw a piece of cosmic debris smash into a monolith. Dust and +splinters flew, and a great fragment broke off and fell slowly downward, +bumping and rebounding, and all of it as soundless as a dream. You +couldn't hear yourself walk, you couldn't hear anything but the roar of +your own breathing and the pounding of your own blood. The grotesque +rocky avenues could hide an army, stealthy, creeping-- + +There was a hill, or at least a higher eminence, crowned with what might +have been the cyclopean image of a man stretched out on a noble +catafalque, with hooded giants standing by in attitudes of mourning. It +seemed like the best place to stop that Hyrst had seen, with plenty of +cover and a view of the surrounding area. With luck, you might stay +hidden there a long time. He jogged Shearing's elbow and pointed, and +Shearing nodded. There was a wide, almost circular sweep of open rock +around the base of the hill. Hyrst looked carefully for the tug. There +was no sign of it. He tore out across the open, with Shearing at his +heels. + +The tug swooped over, going fast this time. It could not possibly have +missed them. Shearing dropped the cloak with a grunt. "No use for that +any more," he said. They bounded up the hillside and in among the +mourning figures. The tug whipped around in a tight spiral and hung over +the hill. Hyrst shook the sweat out of his eyes. His mind was clear +again. The tug's skipper was babbling into his communicator, and in +another place on the asteroid Hyrst could mentally see a thin skirmish +line spread out, and in still another four men in a bunch. They all +picked up and began to move, toward the hill. + +Shearing said, nodding spaceward, "Our friends are on the way. If we can +hold out--" + +"Fat chance," said Hyrst. "They're armed, and all we've got is +flare-pistols." But he looked around. His eyes detected nothing but +rock, hard sunlight, and deep shadow, but his mind saw that one of the +black blots at the base of the main block, the catafalque, was more than +a shadow. He slid into a crack that resembled a passage, being rounded +rather than ragged. Shearing was right behind him. "I don't like this," +he said, "but I suppose there's no help for it." + +The crack led down into a cave, or chamber, too irregularly shaped to be +artificial, too smoothly surfaced and floored to be natural. There was +nothing in it but a block of stone, nine feet or so long and about four +feet wide by five feet high. It seemed to be a natural part of the +floor, but Hyrst avoided it. On the opposite, the sunward side, there +was a small windowlike aperture that admitted a ray of blinding +radiance, sharply defined and doing nothing to illumine the dark on +either side of it. + +Vernon's thought came to them, hard, triumphant, peremptory. "Mr. +Bellaver says you have ten minutes to come out. After that, no mercy." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The minutes slid past, sections of eternity arbitrarily measured by the +standards of another planet and having no relevance at all on this tiny +whirling rock. The beam of light from the small aperture moved visibly +across the opposite wall. Hyrst watched it, blinking. Outside, +Bellaver's men were drawn up in a wide crescent across the hill in front +of the catafalque. They waited. + +"No mercy," said Hyrst softly. "No mercy, is it?" He bent over and began +to loosen the clamps that held the lead weights to the soles of his +boots. + +"It isn't mercy we need," said Shearing. "It's time." + +"How much?" + +"Look for yourself." + +Hyrst shifted his attention to space. There was a ship in it, heading +toward the asteroid, and coming fast. Hyrst frowned, doing in his head +without thinking about it a calculation that would have required a +computer in his former life. + +"Twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds," he said, "inclusive of the +four remaining." + +He finished getting the weights off his boots. He handed one to +Shearing. Then he half-climbed, half-floated up the wall and settled +himself above the entrance, where there was a slight concavity in the +rock to give him hold. + +"Shearing," he said. + +"What?" He was settling himself beside the mouth of the crack, where a +man would have to come clear inside to get a shot at him. + +"A starship implies the intention to go to the stars. Why haven't you?" + +"For the simplest reason in the world," said Shearing bitterly. "The +damn thing can't fly." + +"But--" said Hyrst, in astonishment. + +"It isn't finished. It's been building for over seventy years now, and a +long and painful process that's been, too, Hyrst--doing it bit by bit in +secret, and every bit having to be dreamed up out of whole cloth, and +often discarded and dreamed up again, because the principle of a +workable star-drive has never been formulated before. And it still isn't +finished. It can't be finished, unless--" + +He stopped, and both men turned their attention to the outside. + +"Bellaver's looking at his chrono," said Hyrst. "Go ahead, we've got a +minute." + +Shearing continued, "unless we can get hold of enough Titanite to build +the hyper-shift relays. Nothing else has a fast enough reaction time, +and the necessary load-capacity. We must have burned out a thousand +different test-boards, trying." + +"Can't you buy it?" asked Hyrst. The question sounded reasonable, but he +knew as he said it that it was a foolish one. "I mean, I know the stuff +is scarcer than virtue and worth astronomical sums--that's what +MacDonald was so happy about--but--" + +"The Bellaver Corporation had a corner on the stuff before our ship was +even thought of. That's what brought this whole damned mess about. Some +of our people--not saying why they wanted it, of course--tried to buy +some from Bellaver in the usual way, and one of them must have been +incautious about his shield. Because a Lazarite working for Bellaver +caught a mental hint of the starship, and the reason for the Titanite, +and that was it. Three generations of Bellavers have been after us for +the star-drive, and it's developed into a secret war as bitter as any +ever fought on the battlefield. They hold all the Titanite, we hold the +ship, and perhaps now you're beginning to see why MacDonald was killed, +and why you're so important to both sides." + +"Beginning to," said Hyrst. "But only beginning." + +"MacDonald found a Titanite pocket. And as you know, a Titanite pocket +isn't very big. One man can break the crude stuff, fill a sack with it, +and tote it on his own back if he doesn't have a power-sled." + +"MacDonald had a sled." + +"And he used it. He cleaned out his pocket, afraid somebody else would +track him to it, and he hid the wretched ore somewhere. Then he began to +dicker. He approached the Bellaver Corporation, and we heard of it and +approached _him_. He tried playing us off against Bellaver to boost the +price, and suddenly he was dead and you were accused of his murder. We +thought you really had done it, because no Titanite turned up, and we +knew Bellaver hadn't gotten it from him. We'd watched too closely. It +wasn't until some years later that one of our people learned that +MacDonald had threatened a little too loudly to sell to us unless +Bellaver practically tripled his offer--and of course Bellaver didn't +dare do that. A price so much out of line even for Titanite would have +stirred all the rival shipbuilders to unwelcome curiosity. So, we +figured, Bellaver had had him killed." + +"But what happened to the Titanite?" + +"That," said Shearing, "is what nobody knows. Bellaver must have figured +that if his tame Lazarites couldn't find where MacDonald had put it, we +couldn't either. He was right. With all our combined mental probes and +conventional detectors we haven't been able to track it down. And we +haven't been able to find any more pockets, either. Bellaver Corporation +got exclusive mineral rights to the whole damned moon. They even own the +refinery now." + +Hyrst shook his head. "Latent impressions or not, I don't see how I can +help on that. If MacDonald had given the killer any clue--" + + * * * * * + +A beam of bright blue light no thicker than a pencil struck in through +the mouth of the passage. It touched the side of the large stone block. +The stone turned molten and ran, and then the beam flicked off, leaving +a place that glowed briefly red. Shearing said, "I guess our ten minutes +are up." + +They were. For a second or two nothing more happened and then Hyrst saw +something come sailing in through the crack. His mind told him what it +was just barely in time to shut his eyes. There was a flash that dazzled +him even through his closed lids, and the flash became a glare that did +not lessen. Bellaver's men had tossed in a long-term flare, and almost +at once someone followed it, in the hope of catching Hyrst and Shearing +blinded and off guard. The eyes of Hyrst's mind, unaffected by light, +clearly showed him the suited figure just below him, with its bubble +helmet covered by a glare-shield. They directed him with perfect +accuracy in the downward sweep of the lead weight he had taken from his +boot, and which he still held in his hand. The bubble helmet was very +strong, and the gravity very light, but the concussion was enough to +drop the man unconscious. Just about thought Hyrst, what happened to me +there in the hoist tower, when MacDonald died. Shearing, who had by now +adjusted his own glare-shield stooped quickly and took the man's gun. + +He said aloud, over the helmet communicator, "The next one that steps +through here gets it. Do you hear that, Bellaver?" + +Bellaver's voice answered. "Listen, Shearing, I was wrong. I admit it. +Let's calm down and start over again. I--" + +"Ten minutes ago it was no mercy." + +"It's hard for me to behave reasonably about this business. You know +what it means to me, what it meant to my father and _his_ father. But +I'm willing to do anything, Shearing, if you'll make a deal." + +"I'll make a deal. Readily. Eagerly. Give back what your grandfather +stole from us, and we'll call it square." + +"Oh no we won't," said Hyrst grimly, breaking in. "Not until I find who +killed MacDonald." + +"All right," said Bellaver. "Wilson, break out the grenades." + +The entire surface of Hyrst's body burst into a flaring sweat. For one +panic-stricken second he wanted to rush out the crack pleading for +mercy. Then he got his feet against the wall and pushed hard, and went +plunging across the chamber in a sort of floating dive. Shearing got +there at the same time and helped to pull him down. They huddled +together on the floor, with the coffin-shaped block between them and the +crack. Hyrst sent out a frantic mental call to hurry, directed at the +spaceship of the brotherhood. + +"They're all going to hurry," said Shearing. "Vernon has found the ship +now. He's telling Bellaver. Here comes the grenade--" + +Small round glittering thing of death, curving light and graceful +through the airless gloom. It comes so slowly, and the flesh shrinks +quivering upon itself until it is nothing more than a handful of simple +fear. Outside the men are running away, and the one who has thrown the +grenade from the cramped, constructing vantage of the crack is running +after them, and Shearing is crying with his mind Will it to fall short, +_will it to fall sh_-- + +There is a great brilliance, and the rock leaps, but there is not the +slightest sound. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + "_The Ram, the Bull, the Heavenly Twins, + And next the Crab the Lion Shine. + The Virgin and the Scales--_" + +The old zodiacal rhyme was running through Hyrst's mind, and that was +the only thing that was in his mind. + +The Virgin and the Scales. + +Yes. And she's very beautiful, too, thought Hyrst. But she shouldn't be +_holding_ the Scales. That's all wrong. The Scales come next, and then +the Scorpion--Scorpio--and the Archer--Sagittarius-- + +And anyway they aren't scales, they're a pair of big golden stars, and +she's putting them down, and they're melting together. There's only one +of them, and it's not a star at all, really. It's a polished metal jug, +reflecting the light, and-- + +The Virgin smiled. "The doctor said you were coming around. I brought +you something to drink." + +Reality returned to Hyrst with a rush. "You're Christina," he said, and +tried to sit up. He was dizzy, and she helped him, and he said, "I guess +it did fall short." + +"What?" + +"The grenade. The last thing I remember is Shearing--Wait. Where is +Shearing?" + +"Sitting up in the lounge, nursing his bruises. Yes, it fell short, but +I don't think telekinetics had much to do with that. We've never been +able to control matter convincingly. There. All right?" + +"Fine. How did you get us out?" + +"Of course the grenade had made the entrance impassible--we had to cut +our way in through the outer wall. We had a clear field. Bellaver's men +had all gone back to their ships. They thought you were dead, and to +tell you the truth we thought you must be, too. But you didn't quite +'feel' dead, so we dug you out." + +"Thanks," said Hyrst. "I suppose they know different now." + +He was in a ship's sick-bay. From the erratic crash and shudder of the +lateral jets, they were beating their way through the Belt, and at a +high rate of speed. Hyrst sent a glance back into space. The tugs and +Bellaver's yacht were following, but this time only the yacht had a +chance. The tugs were dropping hopelessly behind. + +"Yes, they soon found out once we got you out, but with any luck we'll +lose them," said Christina. She sat down beside the bunk, where she +could see his face. "Shearing told you about the ship." + +"The starship. Yes." He looked at her. Suddenly he laughed. "You're not +a goddess at all." + +"Who said I was?" + +"Shearing. Or anyway, his mind. Ten feet tall, and crowned with stars--I +was afraid of you." He leaned closer. "Your eyes, though. They are +angry." + +"So will yours be," she said, "when you've fought the Bellavers as long +as we have." + +"There are still things I don't understand. Why you built the ship, why +you've kept it secret from everyone, not just Bellaver, what you plan to +do with it--how _you_ came to be one of the Brotherhood." + +She smiled. "The Seitz method was originated to save wreck-victims +frozen in deep space. Remember? Quite a few of us never went through the +door at all, innocent or guilty. But that makes no difference, once +you've come back from out there." She put her hand on his. "You've +learned fast, but you're only on the threshold. There's no need for +words with us. Open your mind--" + + * * * * * + +He did so. At first it was no different from the contact he had had with +Shearing's mind, or with Christina's before on the _Happy Dream_. +Thoughts came to him clearly phrased--_You want to know why we built the +ship, what we plan to do with it_--and it was only after some time that +he realized the words had stopped and he was receiving Christina's +emotions, her memories and opinions, her disappointments and her dreams, +as simply and directly as though they were his own. + +You haven't had time yet, they told him without words, to realize how +alone you are. You haven't tried, as most of us do at first, to be human +again, to fit yourself into life as though the gap of time was not +there, as though nothing had changed. You haven't watched people getting +old around you while you have hardly added a gray hair. You haven't had +to move from one place to another, one job, one group of friends to +another, because sooner or later they sense something wrong about you. +You haven't had to hide your new powers as you would hide a disease +because people would fear and hate you, perhaps even kill you, if they +knew. That's why there is a brotherhood. And that's why we built the +ship. + +Symbol of flight. Symbol of freedom. A universe wide beyond imagining, +thronging with many colored guns, with new worlds where men in a human +society could build a society of their own. _No boundaries beyond which +the mind cannot dare to go. All space, all time, all knowledge--free!_ + +Once more he saw those wide dark seas between the suns. His mind raced +with hers through the cold-flaming nebulae, wheeled blinded and stunned +past the hiving stars of Hercules, looked in eager fascination at the +splendid spiral of Andromeda--no longer, perhaps, beyond reach, for what +are time and space to the intangible forces of the mind? + +Then that wild flight ceased, and instead there was a smaller vision, +misty and only half realized, of houses and streets, a place where they +could live and be what they were, openly and without fear. + +_Can you understand now_, she asked him, _what they would think if they +knew about the ship? Can you understand that they would be afraid to +have us colonizing out there, afraid of what we might do?_ + +He understood. At the very least, if the truth were known, the Lazarites +would never be free again. They would be taken and tested and examined +and lectured about, legislated over, restricted, governed, and used. +They might be fairly paid for their ship and whatever other advancements +they might develop, but they would never be permitted to use them. + +With sudden savage eagerness Hyrst said, "But first of all I must know +who killed MacDonald. Shearing explained about the latent impressions. +I'm ready." + +She stood up, regarding him with grave eyes. "There's no guarantee it +will work. Sometimes it does. Sometimes not." + +Hyrst thought about the tired, gray-haired man who had stood at the foot +of his bed. "It'll work. It's got to." + +He added, "If it doesn't, I'll tear the truth out of Bellaver with my +hands." + +"It may come to that," she said grimly. "But we'll hope. Lie quiet. I'll +make the arrangements." + +An hour later Hyrst lay on the padded table in the middle of the +sick-bay. The ship spun and whirled and leaped in a sort of insane +dance, and Hyrst was strapped to the table to prevent his being thrown +off. He had known that the ship was maneuvering in the thickest swarm +area of the Belt with four pilots mind-linked and flying esper, trying +to out-dare Bellaver. Two others were keeping Vernon blanked, and they +hoped that either Bellaver himself or his radar-deflector system would +give up. Hyrst had known this, but now he was no longer interested. He +was barely conscious of the lurching of the ship. They had given him +some sort of a drug, and he lay relaxed and pliant in a pleasant +suspension of all worries, looking vaguely up at the faces that were +bent over him. Finally he closed his eyes, and even they were gone. + + * * * * * + +He was crossing the plain of methane snow with MacDonald, under the +glowing Rings. At first it was all a little blurred, but gradually the +memory cleared until he was aware of each tiny detail far more clearly +than he had been at the time--the texture of the material from which +MacDonald's suit was made, the infinitesimal shadow underscoring every +roughness of the snow, the exact sensation of walking in his leaded +boots, the whisper and whistle of his oxygen system. He quarreled again +with MacDonald, not missing a word. He climbed with him into the tower +of Number Three hoist and examined the signal lights, and sat down on +the bench, smiling, to wait. + +He sweated inside his suit. He would take a shower when he got back to +quarters. He wished for a smoke. MacDonald's steady grumbling and +cursing filled his helmet. He listened, enjoying it. Hope you bang +yourself with your own clumsy hammer. And I wish you joy of your +fortune. If you have as many friends rich as you had poor you won't have +any. There was an itch under his left arm. He pressed the suit in with +his right and wriggled his body against it. It didn't do any good. Damn +suits. Damn Titan. Lucky Elena, back on Earth with the kids. Making good +money, though. Won't be long before I can go back and live like a human +being. Now his nose itched, and MacDonald was still grumbling. There was +the faintest ghost of a sound and then _crack_, then nothing, dark, +cold, sinking, very weak, gone. Nothing, nothing. I come to in the cold +silence and look down the shaft at MacDonald and he is dead. + +_Go back a bit. Slow. That's right. Easy. Back to Elena and the kids._ + +Lucky Elena, in the sun and the warm sweet air. Lucky kids. But I'm +lucky too. I can go back to them soon. My nose itches. Why does your +nose always itch when you've got a helmet on, or your hands all over +grease? Listen to MacDonald, damning the belt, damning the tools, +damning everything in sight. Is that a footstep? The air is thin and +poisonous, but it carries sound. Somebody coming behind me? Split +second, no time to look or think. _Crack._ Cold. Dark. Nothing. + +_Let's go back again. Don't hurry. We've all the time in the world. Go +back to the footsteps you heard behind you._ + +Almost heard. And then I black and cold. Heavy. Flat. Face heavy against +helmet, cold. Lying down. Must get up, must get up, danger. Far away. +Can't. MacDonald is screaming. Let the lift alone, what are you doing, +Hyrst? Hyrst! Shut up, you greedy little man, and listen. You're not +Hyrst--who are you? That doesn't matter. I know, you're from Bellaver. +Bellaver sent you to steal the Titanite. Well, you won't get it. It's +where nobody will ever get it unless I show them how. Good. That's good, +MacDonald. That's what I wanted to know. You see, _we_ don't need the +Titanite. + +MacDonald screams again and the lift goes down with a roar and a rattle +of severed chain. + +Heavy footsteps, shaking the floor by my head. Someone turns me over, +speaks to me, bending close. Light is gray and strange. I try to rouse. +I can't. The man is satisfied. He drops me and goes away, but I have +seen his face inside his helmet. I hear him working on some metal thing +with a tool. He is whistling a little under his breath. MacDonald is not +screaming now. From time to time he whimpers. But I have seen the +killer's face. + +I have seen his face. + +I have seen-- + +_Take it easy, Hyrst. Take your time._ + +Elena is dead, and this is Christina bending over me. + +I have seen the killer's face. + +It is the face of Vernon. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +There was Christina, and there was Shearing, and there were two more he +did not know, leaning over him. The drug was wearing off a little, and +Hyrst could see them more clearly, see the bitter disappointment in +their eyes. + +"Is that all?" Christina said. "Are you sure? Go back again--" + +They took him back again, and it was the same. + +"That's all MacDonald said? Then we're no closer to the Titanite than we +were before." + +Hyrst was not interested in the Titanite. "Vernon," he said. Something +red and wild rose up in him, and he tried to tear away the straps that +held him. "Vernon. I'll get him--" + +"Later, Hyrst," said Shearing, and sighed. "Lie still a bit. He's on +Bellaver's yacht, remember? Quite out of reach. Now think. MacDonald +said, You won't get it, it's where nobody will ever get it--" + +"What's the use?" said Christina, turning away. "It was a faint hope +anyway. Dying men don't draw obliging maps for you." She sat down on the +edge of a bunk and put her head in her hands. "We might as well give up. +You know that." + +One of the two Lazarites who had done the latent probe on Hyrst said +with hollow hopefulness, "Perhaps if we let him rest a while and then go +over it again--" + +"Let me up out of here," said Hyrst, still groggy with the drug. "I want +Vernon." + +"I'll help you get him," said Shearing, "if you'll tell me what +MacDonald meant when he said _nobody will ever get it unless I show them +how_." + +"How the devil do I know?" Hyrst tugged at the straps, raging. "Let me +up." + +"But you knew MacDonald well. You worked with him and beside him for +years." + +"Does that tell me where he hid the Titanite? Don't be an ass, Shearing. +Let me up." + +"But," said Shearing equably, "he didn't say _where_. He said _how_." + +"Isn't that the same thing?" + +"Is it? Listen. Nobody will ever get it unless I show them where. Nobody +will ever get it unless I show them how." + +Hyrst stopped fighting the straps. He began to frown. Christina lifted +her head again. She did not say anything. The two Lazarites who had done +the probe stood still and held their breath. + +Shearing's mind touched Hyrst's stroking it as with soothing fingers. +"Let's think about that for a minute. Let your thoughts move freely. +MacDonald was an engineer. The engineer. Of the four, he alone knew +every inch of the physical set-up of the refinery. So?" + +"Yes. That's right. But that doesn't say where--Wait a minute, though. +If he'd just shoved it in a crack somewhere in the mountains, he'd know +a detector might find it, more easily than before it was dug. He'd have +put it some where deep, deeper than he could possibly dig. Maybe in an +abandoned mine?" + +"No place," said Shearing, "is too deep for us to probe. We've examined +every abandoned mine on that side of Titan. And it doesn't fit, anyway. +No. Try again." + +"He wouldn't have brought it back to the refinery. One of us would be +sure to find it. Unless, of course--" + +Hyrst stopped, and the tension in the sick-bay tightened another notch. +The ship lurched sharply, swerved, and shot upward with a deafening +thunder of rocket-blasts. Hyrst shut his eyes, thinking hard. + +"Unless he put it in some place so dangerous that nobody ever went +there. A place where even he didn't go, but which he would know about +being the engineer." + +"Can you think of any place that would answer that description?" + +"Yes," said Hyrst slowly. "The underground storage bins. They're always +hot, even when they're empty. Anything hidden near them would be +blanketed by radiation. No detector would see anything but uranium. +Probably even you wouldn't." + +"No," said Shearing, looking amazed. "Probably we wouldn't. The +radioactive disturbance would be too strong to get through, even if we +were looking for something beyond it, which we weren't." + + * * * * * + +Christina had sprung up. Now she bent over Hyrst and said, "But is there +a way it could have been done? Obviously, the Titanite couldn't have +been put directly into the bin with the uranium--if nothing else, it +would have been shipped out in the next tanker." + +"Oh, yes," said Hyrst. "There would be several ways. I can think of a +couple myself, and I've never even see the layout. The repair-lift +shaft, I know, goes clear down to the feeder mechanism, and there's some +kind of a system of dispersal tunnels and an emergency gadget that trips +automatically to release a liquid-graphite damping material into them in +case the radiation level gets too high. I don't remember that it ever +did, but it's a safeguard. There'd be plenty of places to hide a lead +box full of Titanite." + +"_Unless I show them how_," repeated Shearing slowly, and began to undo +the straps that held Hyrst to the table. "It has an ominous sound. I'll +bet you that locating the Titanite will be child's play compared to +getting it out. Well, we'll do what we can." + +"The first thing," said Christina grimly, "is to get rid of Bellaver. If +he has the slightest suspicion where we're headed he'll radio ahead and +have all Titan alerted." + +Hyrst, sitting up now on the edge of the table, hanging on against the +lurching of the ship, said, "That's right--he owns the refinery now, +doesn't he? Is it still working?" + +"No. The mines around there played out, oh, ten, fifteen years ago. The +activity's shifted to the north and east on the other side of the range. +That is what may possibly give us a chance." Shearing staggered with +Hyrst across the bucking deck and sat tailor-fashion in the bunk, his +eyes intent. "Hyrst, I want you to remember everything you can about the +refinery. The ground plan, exactly where the buildings are, the hoists, +the landing field. Everything." + +Hyrst said, showing the edges of his teeth, "When do I get Vernon?" + +"You'll get him. I promise you." + +"What about Bellaver? He's still behind us." + +Shearing smiled. "That's Christina's job! Let her worry." + +Hyrst nodded. He began to remember the refinery. Christina and the other +two went out. + +A short while later a number of things happened, violently, and in quick +succession. The ship of the Lazarites, pursuing its wild and headlong +course through the swarming debris of the Belt, was far ahead of +Bellaver's yacht but still within instrument range. Apparently in +desperation it plunged suddenly on a tangential course into a cluster of +great jagged rocks all travelling together at a furious rate of speed. +The cluster was perhaps two hundred miles across. The Lazarite ship +twisted and turned, and then there was a swift bright flowering of +flame, and then nothing. + +"She's blown her tubes," said Bellaver exultantly, on the bridge of his +yacht. The instruments had lost contact, chiefly because the cluster was +so thick that it was impossible to separate one body from another. + +Vernon said, "They're not blanking my mind any more. It stopped, like +that." + +But he was still doubtful. + +"Can you locate the ship?" asked Bellaver. + +"I'm trying." + +Bellaver caught his arm. "Look there!" + +There was a second, larger and more brilliant, flash of flame. + +"They've hit an asteroid," he said. "They're done for." + +"I can't locate them," Vernon said. "No ship, no wreckage. It could be a +trick. They could be holding a cloak." + +"A trick?" said Bellaver. "I doubt it. Anyway, we're running low on +fuel, and I'm not going to go into that cluster and risk my own neck to +find out. If by any chance they do come out again later on, we'll deal +with them." + +But they both watched the cluster until it had whirled on out of sight. +And neither eye nor instrument nor Vernon's probing mind could +distinguish any sign of life. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Titan lay below them in the Saturn-glow, under the fantastic glory of +the Rings. A bitter, repellent world of jagged peaks and glimmering +plains of poison snow. The tiny life-raft dropped toward it, skittering +nervously as it hit the thin atmosphere. Hyrst clung hard to the +handholds, trying not to retch. He was not habituated to space anyway, +and the skiff had been bad enough. Now, without any hull around him and +nothing but a curved shield in front of him, he felt like an ant on a +flying leaf. + +"I don't like it either." Shearing said. "But it gives us a fifty-fifty +chance of getting through unnoticed. Radar usually isn't looking for +anything so small." + +"_I_ understand all the reasons," Hyrst said. "It's my stomach that's +obtuse." + +He could make out the pattern of the refinery now, a million miles of +vertigo below him. The Lazarite ship was somewhere up and out behind +them, hiding in the Rings. The trick had worked with Bellaver out there +in the Belt, and they hoped now that it would work with Bellaver's +observers on Titan. There was no need for any fake explosions this time, +to give the impression of destruction. Secrecy was the watch-word, all +lights out and jet-blasts muffled to a spark. Later, when Hyrst and +Shearing had accomplished their mission, the ship would drop down fast +and take them off, with the Titanite, before any patrol craft would have +time to arrive. + +They hoped. + +The buildings of the refinery were dark and cold, drifted out of shape +by an accumulation of the thin, evil snow. The spiderweb of roads had +faded from the plain, and the landing field was smooth and unmarked. +Around its perimeter the six stiff towers of the hoists stood up like +lonely sentinels, hooded and cloaked. + +Hyrst felt a sudden tightening of his throat, and this was a thing he +had not expected. A refinery on Titan was hardly a thing to be +sentimental about. But it was bound up so intimately with other things, +with hopes for a future that was now far behind him, with plans for +Elena and the kids that were now a cruel mockery, with friendly memories +of Saul and Landers, now long dead, that he could not look at it +unmoved. + +"Let's try again," said Shearing quietly. "If we could locate the +Titanite definitely it might make all the difference. We'll hardly have +time to search all six of the bins." + +Glad of the distraction, Hyrst tried. He linked his mind to Shearing's +and they probed with this double probe, one after the other, the six +hoists and the bins beneath them, while the raft fell whistling down the +air. + +It was the same as all the tries before. The bins had been empty for +more than a decade, but the residual radiation was still hot enough to +present a luminous haze to the eyes of the mind, fogging everything +around it. + +"Wait a minute," Hyrst said. "Let's use our wits. Look at the way those +hoists are placed, in a wide crescent. Now if I was MacDonald, coming in +from the mountains with a load of Titanite, and I wanted not to be seen, +which one would I pick?" + +"Either One or Six," said Shearing, without hesitation. "They're the +farthest away from the buildings." + +"But Number Six is at the west end of the crescent, and to reach it you +would have to go clear across the landing field." He pointed mentally to +Number One. "I'll bet on that one. Shall we give it another try?" + +They did. This time, for a fleeting second, Hyrst thought he had +something. + +"So did I," said Shearing. "Sort of down under and _behind_." + +"Yes," said Hyrst. "_Look_ out!" His involuntary cry was caused by the +sudden collision of the life-raft with a cloud. The vapor was very +thick, and after the cruel clarity of space it made Hyrst feel that he +was smothering. Shearing jockeyed the raft's meagre controls, and in a +minute or two they were below the cloud and spiralling down toward the +landing field. It was snowing. + +"Good," said Shearing. "We'll hope it keeps up." + + * * * * * + +They landed close to Number One Hoist and floundered rapidly through the +shallow drifts, carrying some things. The hatch had been sealed with a +plastic spray to prevent corrosion, and it took them several minutes to +get it open. Inside the tower it was pitch black, but they did not need +lights. Their other senses showed them the worn metal treads of the +steps quite clearly. In the upper chamber the indicator panels were dark +and dead. Hyrst shivered inside his suit. He had been here so many times +before, so long ago. + +"Let's get busy," Shearing said. + +They pulled on the rayproofs they had brought with them from the raft. +Without power the lift was useless, but the skeleton cage, stripped of +all its tools, was not too heavy for two strong men to swing clear of +the shaft top. They made sure it would stay clear, and then sent down a +light collapsible ladder. Hyrst slid down first into the smooth, round, +totally unlighted hole, that had one segment of it open paralleling the +machinery of the hoist. + +"Take it carefully," Shearing said, and slid after him. + +Clumsy in vac-suit and rayproof, Hyrst descended the ladder with +agonizing slowness. Every impulse cried out for haste, but he knew if he +hurried he would wind up at the bottom of the shaft as dead as +MacDonald. The banging and knocking of their passage against the metal +wall made a somber, hollow booming in that enclosed space, and it seemed +to Hyrst that the silent belts and cables of the hoist hummed a little +in sympathy. It was probably only the blood humming in his own ears. + +"See anything yet?" + +"No." + +The vast strange glowing of the bin grew brighter as they approached it. +The hoist was still "hot," and it glowed too, but nothing like the +concentration in the bin. + +"Even with rayproofs, we can't stay close to that too long." + +"I don't think we'll have to. MacDonald was only human, and the bin was +full then. He couldn't have stayed long either." + +"See anything yet?" + +"Nothing but fog. When you hit bottom, better use your light." + +At long last Hyrst felt the bottom of the shaft under his boots. He +stood aside from the ladder and switched on his belt lamp. In this case +the physical eyes were better than the mental, being insensitive to +radiation. Instantly the gears and cams of the feeder assembly sprang +into sharp relief on the open side of the shaft. Shearing stumbled down +off the ladder and switched on his own light. + +"Where was it we thought we saw something?" + +"Down under and behind." Hyrst turned slowly around, questing. The shaft +was unbroken except by the repair opening. He climbed through it, with +some difficulty, because nobody was supposed to climb through it and the +machinery was placed for easy access with extension tools from the lift. +The bin itself was now directly opposite them, a big hopper cut deep in +the solid rock and serving the feeder by simple gravity. The feeder +pretty well filled its own rocky chamber. A place might have been found +beside it for something not too big, but the first man who came down on +the lift would have seen it whether he was looking for it or not. + +Shearing pointed. A dark opening pierced the rock at one side. Hyrst +tried to see into it with his mental eyes, but the "fog" was so dense +and bright-- + +He saw it, an unsubstantial ghostly shadow, but there. A square box some +twenty feet down the tunnel. + +Shearing drew a quick sharp breath "Let's go." + +They went into the tunnel, crouching, scraping against the narrow sides. + +"Look out for booby traps." + +"I don't see any--yet." + +The box sat in the middle of the tunnel. There was no way to get around +it, no way to see over it without lying on its top and wriggling between +it and the low roof. Hyrst and Shearing shut their eyes. + +"I'm not sure, but I think I see a wire. Damn the fog. Can't tell where +it goes--" + + * * * * * + +Hyrst took cutters from his belt and slithered cautiously over the box. +His heart was hammering very hard and his hand shook so that he had +great difficulty getting the cutters and the wire together. The wire was +attached to the back of the box, very crudely and hastily attached with +a blob of plastic solder. It was not until he had pinched the wire with +the sharp metal cutter-teeth that he realized the plastic was +non-metallic and the wire bare. And then, of course, it was too late. + +There must have been a simple energizer somewhere up ahead, still +charging itself from the ample radiation source. The cutters flew out of +Hyrst's hand in a shower of sparks, and in the darkness of the tunnel +ahead there was a sudden wild flare of light, and an explosion of dust. +A shock wave, not too great, hammered past Hyrst's helmet. Shearing +yelled once, a protest broken short in mid-cry. Then they waited. + +The dust settled. The brief tremor of the rock was stilled. + +In the roof of the tunnel, where the blast had been, a broken dump-trap +hung open, but nothing poured out of it but a handful of black dust. + +Hyrst began to laugh. He lay on his belly on top of the box of Titanite +and laughed. The tears ran out of his eyes and down his nose and dropped +onto the inside of his helmet. Shearing hit him from behind. He hit him +until he stopped laughing, and then Hyrst shook his head and said. + +"Poor MacDonald." + +"Yeah. Go ahead, you can cut the wire now." + +"Such a lovely booby trap. But he wasn't figuring on time. They went +away from here, Shearing, you see? And when they went they drained off +the liquid graphite and took it with them. So there isn't anything left +to flood the tunnel. Pathetic, isn't it?" + +Shearing hit him again. "Cut the wire." + +He cut it. They scuffled backward down the tunnel, dragging the box. +When they got back into the shaft where there was room to do it they +opened up the box. + +"Doesn't look like much, does it, for all the trouble it's made?" + +"No, it doesn't. But then gold doesn't look like much, or uranium, or a +handful of little dry seeds." Shearing picked up a chunk of the rough, +grayish ore. "You know what that is, Hyrst? That's the stars." + +It was Hyrst's turn to prod Shearing into quiet. The starship and the +dream that went with it were still only an intellectual interest to him. +They shared out the Titanite into two webbing sacks. It made a light +load for each, hardly noticeable when clipped to a belt-ring at the +back. + +Hyrst felt suddenly very nervous. Perhaps it was reaction, perhaps it +was the memory of having been trapped in a similar hole on the Valhalla +asteroid. Perhaps it was a mental premonition, obscured by the +radioactive "fog". At any rate, he started to climb the ladder with +almost suicidal haste, urging Shearing on after him. The shaft seemed to +be a mile high. It seemed to lengthen ahead of him as he climbed, so +that he was never any nearer the top. He knew it was only imagination, +because he passed the level markers, but it was the closest thing to a +nightmare he had ever experienced when he was broad awake. Just after +they had passed the E Level mark, Shearing spoke. + +"A ship has landed." + +Hyrst looked mentally. The fog-effect was not so great now, and he could +see quite clearly. It was a small ship, and two men were getting out of +it. It had stopped snowing. + +"Radar must have picked up the raft after all," said Shearing. "Or else +somebody spotted the jet-flares." He began to climb faster. "We better +get out of this before they come in." + +D Level. Hyrst's hands were cold and stiff inside his gauntlets, clumsy +hooks to catch the slender rungs. The two men were standing outside in +the snow, peering around. + +C Level. One of the two men saw the raft parked by the hoist tower. He +pointed, and they moved toward it. + +B Level. Hyrst's boots slipped and scrambled, banging the shaft wall. +"Christ," said Shearing. "You sound like a temple gong. What are you +trying to do, alarm the whole moon?" + + * * * * * + +The men outside bent over the raft. They looked at it. Then they looked +at the hoist tower. They left the raft and began to run, pulling guns +out of their belts. + +A Level. Hyrst's breath roared in his helmet like a great wind. He +thought of the long dark way down that was below them, and how MacDonald +had looked at the bottom of the shaft, and how he would take Shearing +with him if he fell, and nobody would get to the stars, and Vernon would +go free. He set his teeth, and sobbed, and climbed. Outside, the two men +cautiously removed the hatch and stepped into the tower. + +End of the ladder. A level floor to sprawl on. Hyrst squirmed away from +the shaft. He thought for a minute he was going to pass out, and he +fumbled with the oxygen valve, making the mixture richer. His head began +to clear. Shearing was now beside him. This time they had guns, too. +Shearing gave him a quick mental caution, _Not unless you have to_. One +of the two men was placing a tentative foot on the stair that led up to +where they were. The other man was close behind him. Shearing took +careful aim and fired, at half power. + +The harsh blue bolt did not strike either man. But they went reeling +back in a cloud of burning flakes, and when Shearing shouted to them to +drop their weapons and get out they did so, half stunned from the shock. +Hyrst and Shearing leaped down the stairs, stopping only long enough to +pick up the guns. Then they scrambled outside. The two men were running +as hard as they could for their ship, but they had not gone far and +Shearing stopped them with another shot that sent a geyser of methane +steam puffing up practically under their feet. + +"Not yet," he said. "Later." + +The two men stood, sullenly obedient. They were both young, and not bad +looking. Just doing a job, Hyrst thought. No real harm in them, just +doing a job, like so many people who never stop to worry about what the +job means. They both wore Bellaver's insigne on their vac-suits. + +One of them said, as though he were reciting a lesson in which he had no +real personal interest, "You're trespassing on private property. You'll +be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law." + +"Sure," said Shearing. He motioned to the hoist tower. "Back inside." + +The young men hesitated. "What you going to do?" + +"Nothing fatal. It shouldn't take you more than half an hour to break +out again." + +He marched them to the hatch and saw them inside it. Hyrst was watching +the sky, the black star-glittering sky with the glorious arch of the +Rings across it and one milky-bright curve of Saturn visible and growing +above the eastern horizon. + +"They're coming," he said mentally to Shearing. + +"Good." He started to close the hatch, and one of the young men pointed +suddenly to the sack clipped to Shearing's belt. + +"You've been stealing something." + +"Tell that to Bellaver." + +"You bet I will. The fullest extent of the law, mister! The fullest +extent--" + +The hatch closed. Shearing jammed the fastening mechanism so it could +not be turned from the inside. Then he went and stood beside Hyrst in +the glimmering plain, watching the ship drop down out of the Rings. + +Hyrst said, "They'll tell Bellaver." + +"Naturally." + +"What will Bellaver do?" + +"I'm not sure. Something drastic. He wants our starship so hard he'd +murder his own children to get it. You can see why. In itself it's +priceless, a hundred years ahead of its time, but that's not all. It's +what it stands for. To us it means freedom and safety. To Bellaver it +means--" + +He gestured toward the sky, and Hyrst nodded, seeing in Shearing's mind +the image of a gigantic Bellaver, ten times bigger than God, gathering +the whole galaxy into his arms. + +"I wish you luck," said Hyrst. He unhooked the sack of Titanite from his +belt and gave it to Shearing. "It'll take a little while to refine the +stuff and build the relays, even so. That may be time enough. Come back +for me if you can." + +"Vernon?" + + +"Yes." + +Shearing nodded. "I said I'd help you get him. I will." + +"No. This is my job. I'll do it alone. You belong there, with them. With +Christina." + +"Hyrst. Listen--" + +"Don't tell me where the starship is. I might not hold out as well as +you." + +"All right, but Hyrst--in case we can't get back--look for us away from +the Sun. Not toward it." + +"I'll remember." + +The ship landed. Shearing entered it, carrying the Titanite. And Hyrst +walked away, toward the closed and buried buildings of the refinery. + +It had begun to snow again. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +It was cold and dark and infinitely sad. Hyrst wandered through the +rooms, feeling like a ghost, thinking like one. Everything had been +removed from the buildings. The living quarters were now mere cubicular +tombs for a lot of memories, absolutely bare of any human or familiar +touch. It felt very strange to Hyrst. He kept telling himself that fifty +years had passed, but he could not believe it. It seemed only a few +months since MacDonald's death, months occupied by investigation and +trial and the raging, futile anguish of the unjustly accused. The long +interval of the pseudo-death was no more than a night's sleep, to a mind +unconscious of passing time. Now it seemed that Saul and Landers should +still be here, and there should be lights and warmth and movement. + +There was nothing. He could not bring himself to stay in the living +quarters. He went into one of the storerooms and sat on a concrete +buttress and waited. It was a long and dreadful wait. During it all the +emotional storms occasioned by the murder and its aftermath passed +through his mind. Scenes with Saul and Landers. Scenes with the +investigators, with MacDonald's family, with lawyers and reporters. +Scenes with Elena. The whole terrible nightmare, leading inevitably to +that culminating moment when the door of the airlock opened and he +joined the sleepers on the plain. When it was all over Hyrst felt shaken +and exhausted, but calm. The face of Vernon burned brightly in his +mind's eye. + +Without bothering to open the steel-shuttered windows, he watched the +two young men force their way out of the hoist tower. He watched them +run to their ship and chatter excitedly over their radio. By the time, +much later, that Bellaver's yacht came screaming down to the landing +field on a flaming burst of jets, he could watch it with almost the cool +detachment of a spectator. He was careful to keep his shields up tight +against Vernon, and he did not think the other Lazarite would be likely +to look for him. Vernon seemed to be fully occupied with Bellaver. + +"_What else would they be stealing, you fool? You should have, killed +Hyrst before, when you had the chance._" + +"_Somebody had to take the blame for MacDonald. Anyway, you had him +aboard the_ Happy Dream. _Why didn't you hang onto him?_" + +"_Don't get insolent with me, Vernon. I can turn you over to the police +anytime, for any one of a hundred things._" + +"_Not without tipping your hand, Bellaver._" + +"_It would be worth it._" A string of foul names, delivered in a furious +scream. "_You couldn't locate the Titanite, but they did, just as soon +as they got hold of Hyrst._" + +"_All right, Mr. God Almighty Bellaver, turn me in. But if it was the +Titanite they took, you haven't a chance of finding that starship +without me._" + +"_You haven't done very well at it so far._" + +"_In the excitement, they may get careless. But it's up to you._" + +More foul language, but Bellaver did not repeat his threat. He and +Vernon, with a couple of other men, got into vac-suits and lumbered +across the snow to the hoist tower. From inside the cold dark buried +building, Hyrst watched them, and thought hard and fast, and smiled. +Presently he left the building and circled cautiously through the snowy +gloom until he was in range of their helmet-communicators. He could hear +them aurally now, but he kept watching them, esper-fashion. + + * * * * * + +They inspected the empty lead box, and the young men told what had +happened, and Bellaver turned his raging fury against them. There was no +longer any doubt that the Titanite had been found and taken away, and +Bellaver saw the stars and worlds and moons, the bright glowing plunder +of a galaxy, slipping away from him. He threatened the two young men +with every punishment he could think of for not having stopped the +thieves, and one of the young men turned white and anxious, and the +other one flushed brick red and shook his fist close to Bellaver's +helmet. + +"You go to hell," he said. "I don't care who you are. You go to hell." + +He walked out of the hoist tower, with his companion stumbling at his +heels, and Bellaver screamed after them, and behind him the crewmen +looked shocked and contemptuous, and Vernon laughed openly, showing the +edges of his teeth. + +The two young men got into their ship and went away. Bellaver turned and +stood looking at the empty box. He seemed exhausted now, hopeless, like +a child about to break down and cry. Vernon went over and kicked the +box. + +"Hyrst had the advantage," he said. "He knew MacDonald and he knew the +refinery. Even so, it must have been pure guesswork. Nobody could probe +through that fog." + +"What are we going to do?" asked Bellaver. "Vernon, what are we going to +do?" + +Hyrst spoke for the first time, his voice ringing loud and startling in +their ears. + +"Don't ask Vernon," he said. "Ask me." + +There was a moment of complete silence. Hyrst felt Vernon's mind brush +his, and he permitted himself one cruel flash of triumph. Then everybody +spoke at once, Vernon explaining why he hadn't spotted Hyrst--who could +have figured he'd stay behind at a time like this?--the crew-members +nervously fingering their guns, and Bellaver crying, + +"Hyrst! Is that you, Hyrst? Where are you?" + +"Where I can get the first shot at anybody coming out of the tower, and +where nobody from the yacht will ever reach me. Tell them all to stay +put. Go ahead, Bellaver, you want to hear me out, don't you?" + +"What do you want to say?" + +"I can find you that starship. Tell them, Bellaver." + +He told them. And Vernon said to Bellaver, "If he's willing to betray +his friends, why would he get them the Titanite?" He laughed. "It isn't +even a good trick." + +"Oh, yes, it is," said Hyrst softly. "It's a very good one. The best. +You see, I don't care about the starship or the Titanite. All I care +about is the man who killed MacDonald. They were sort of bound up +together. Ever hear of latent impressions, Vernon? I was unconscious, +but my ears heard and my eyes saw, and my brain remembered, when it was +shown how." + +"That was fifty years ago," said Vernon. "People don't understand about +us. Nobody would believe you if you told them." + +"They would if Bellaver told them. They would if Bellaver explained out +loud about the Lazarites, about what happens to men when they go through +the door. They'd listen to him. And there must be others who know, or at +least suspect." Hyrst paused, long enough to smile. "The beauty of that +is, Bellaver, that you're in the clear. You're not responsible for a +murder your grandfather had done. You could swear you didn't even know +about it until now." + +Vernon said to Bellaver, "If you do this to me, I'll blast you wide +open." + +"What can he do, Bellaver?" Hyrst shouted. "He can talk, but you have +the money, the position, the legal powers. You can talk louder. And when +they know the truth, will anybody take the word of a Lazarite against a +human man?" + +His voice rose higher and louder, drowning out Vernon's cry. + +"Are you afraid of him, Bellaver? Are you so afraid of him you'll let +the starship go?" + +"Hold him." Bellaver said, and the crewmen held Vernon fast. "Wait a +minute, Hyrst," he said. "What's your angle? Is it just revenge? Are you +selling out your friends for something over and done half a century ago? +I don't believe it, Hyrst." + +Hyrst said slowly, "I can answer that, so even you will understand. I +have children. They're getting old now. They've lived all their lives +thinking their father killed a man, not for love or for justice or in +self-defense, but for sheer cold-blooded greed. I want them to know it +wasn't so." + +"Hold him!" Bellaver said. The crewmen struggled with Vernon, and Vernon +said viciously to Bellaver, + +"He'll never lead you to the starship. I can read his mind. When you've +turned me in and blackened your grandfather's name to clear him, he'll +laugh in your face. What are you, Bellaver, a fool?" + +"Am I, Hyrst?" + +"That's for you to find out. I'm offering you the starship for Vernon, +and that's fair enough, because I want him as bad as you want it. And I +can tell you, Bellaver, if you decide to play it smart and call in your +guards to hunt me down, it will do you no good. I won't be alive when +they take me." + +Silence. In his mind's eye Hyrst could see the beads of sweat running +down Bellaver's face behind his helmet. He could see Vernon's face, too. +It gave him pleasure. + +"It should be an easy decision, Bellaver," he said. "After all, suppose +I am lying. What have you got to lose but Vernon? And with his record, +that isn't much." + +"Hold him," said Bellaver. "All right, Hyrst. I'll do it. But I'll tell +you now. If you lie to me, there won't be any re-awakening in another +fifty years. This will be for good." + +"Fair enough," said Hyrst. "I'm putting my gun away. I'm coming in." + +He walked quickly through the snow toward the tower. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +On the bridge of his yacht, Bellaver turned to Hyrst and said, + +"I've done what you wanted. Now find me that starship." + +Hyrst nodded. "Take off." + +The rockets roared and thundered, and the swift yacht leaped quivering +into the sky. + +Hyrst sat quietly in his recoil chair. He felt a different man, changed +entirely in the last few days. Much had happened in those days. + +Bellaver had got busy on the radio even before his yacht left Titan, and +the story of the Lazarites had burst like a nova upon the Solar System. +Already there were instances of suspected Lazarites being mobbed by +their neighbors, and Government was frantically concerning itself with +all the new, far-reaching implications of the Humane Penalty. + +Close on the heels of this bomb-shell had come Vernon's angry +accusations against Bellaver, delivered as soon as he was given to the +authorities on Mars. During the twenty Martian hours necessary for +formal charge and the taking of depositions, and while Bellaver's yacht +was being refueled, Vernon's story of the starship went out on all the +interworld circuits. And it had been as Christina had said. The whole +Solar System was frantic to have the Lazarites caught and stopped, and +every man in space became a self-appointed searcher for the hidden +starship. Bellaver, letting his lawyers worry about Vernon's +accusations, had already laid formal claim to that ship, based on the +value of the stolen Titanite. + +"Where?" demanded Bellaver now, in a fury of impatience. "Where?" + +"Wait," said Hyrst. "There are too many watching, ready to follow you. +They know what you're after. Wait till we're clear of Mars." + +He sat in his chair, looking into space. His drive was all gone, and the +anger that had fed it. Somewhere his son and his two daughters were +drawing their first free breaths relieved of a burden they should never +have had to carry. They knew now that he was innocent, and they could +think of him now without bitterness, speak his name without hate. He had +done what he had set out to do, and he was finished. He knew what was +ahead of him, but he was too tired to care. + +The yacht went fast, away from the old red weary planet. Hyrst thought +of Shearing and Christina and the others, laboring over their ship on +the dark plain. He felt safe in doing this, because Vernon was gone and +the gray evil man who had helped to torture Shearing aboard the _Happy +Dream_ was still in an Earth hospital recovering from the blow Hyrst had +given him. They were out of reach, and Hyrst was the only Lazarite +Bellaver had. + +He did not try to get through to Shearing because he knew that was +impossible, and there was no reason for it anyway. He let his mind +stretch out and rove through the nighted spaces beyond Saturn, beyond +Uranus and Neptune, beyond the black and frigid bulk of Pluto. He did +not see the ship nor touch a Lazarite mind, and so he knew that they +were still holding the cloak, still hiding from possible betrayal. He +withdrew his mind, and wished them luck. + +"We're clear of Mars," said Bellaver. "Which way?" + +"That way," said Hyrst, and pointed. "Toward the Sun." + +The yacht swerved and steadied on a new course, toward the distant glare +of Sol. And Bellaver said, + +"What's the exact location?" + +"Can you trust every man in this crew?" asked Hyrst. "Can you be sure +not one of them would give it away, when we stop to refuel? You're not +the only one that knows about the starship now, remember." + +"You could tell _me_." + +"You're too impatient, Bellaver. You'd want to head straight there, and +it won't be that easy. They have defenses. We have to be careful, or +they'll destroy the ship before we reach it." + +"Or finish their relays and go." Bellaver gave Hyrst a long look. "I'll +trust you because I have to. But I wasn't making an empty threat. And +I'll do it so there won't be any thought of murder. You'd better find me +that ship, Hyrst." + +From then on, Bellaver hardly slept. He paced the corridors and haunted +the control room and watched Hyrst with a gnawing, agonizing doubt. +Hyrst began to feel for him a distant sort of pity, as he might have +felt for a man afflicted by some disease brought on by his own excesses. + + * * * * * + +The yacht passed the orbit of Earth, refueled at an obscure space +station, and sped on. Hyrst continued to stall Bellaver, ordering a +change of course from time to time to keep him happy. At intervals he +let his mind rove through those dark spaces they were leaving farther +behind with every passing second. Each time it was a greater effort, but +still there was no sign of the starship or its base, and so he knew that +the labor still went on. + +By the time the yacht reached the orbit of Venus a fan-shaped cordon of +other ships had collected around and behind her drawn by the word that +Bellaver was on his way to find the starship. Government patrols were in +constant touch. + +"They can't interfere," said Bellaver. "I've got a lien on that ship, a +formal claim." + +"Sure," said Hyrst. "But you'd better be the first to find it. +Possession, you know. Bear off a bit. Mislead them. They're sure now +they know where you're going." + +"Don't they?" said Bellaver, looking ahead at the glittering spark that +was Mercury. "There isn't anyplace else to go." + +"Isn't there?" + +Bellaver stared at him, narrow-eyed. "The legend of the Vulcan was +exploded by the first explorers. There is no intra-Mercurial world." + +Hyrst shot a swift stabbing mental glance toward Pluto. Still nothing. +He sighed and said easily, + +"There wasn't then. There is now." + +He brazened out the look of incredulity on Bellaver's face. + +"These are Lazarites, remember, not men. They built a place for +themselves where nobody would ever think to look. Not a planet, of +course, just a floating workshop. A satellite. And now you know. So you +can let them beat you to Mercury." + +"All right," said Bellaver softly. "All right." + +They passed Mercury, lost in the blaze of the Sun, and only a few ships +followed them, far behind. The rest stopped to search the craggy valleys +of the Twilight Belt, and the bleak icefields of the Dark Side. + +And now Hyrst had run his string out, and he knew it. When no +intra-Mercurial satellite showed up, physically or on detector-screens, +there was no further lie to tell. He drove his mind out and away, to the +cold planets wheeling on the fringes of Sol's light, and he sweated, and +prayed, and hoped that nothing had gone wrong. And suddenly the cloak +was dropped, and he saw a lonesome chip of rock beyond Pluto, all +hollowed out for shops and living quarters, and the great ship standing +in the mile-long plain, with the stars all drifted overhead. And the +ship lifted from the plain, circled upward, and suddenly was not. + +Hyrst was bitterly sorry that he was not aboard. But he told Bellaver, +"You can stop looking now. They've got away." + +He watched Bellaver die, standing erect on his feet, still breathing, +but dying inside with the last outgoing of hope. + +"I thought you were lying," he said, "but it was the only chance I had." +He nodded, looking toward the shuttered port with the insufferable blaze +outside. He said, in a flat, dead voice, "If you were put out here, +bound, in a lifeboat, headed toward the Sun--Yes. I could make up a +story to fit that." + +In the same toneless voice, he called his men. And suddenly the yacht +lurched over shuddering in the backwash of some tremendous energy. Hyrst +and the others were flung scattering against the bulk-heads, and the +lights went out, and the instruments went dead. + +Beyond the port, on the unshuttered side away from the Sun, a vast dark +shape had materialized out of nothing, to hang close in space beside the +yacht. + +Hyrst heard in his mind, strong and clear, the voice of Shearing saying, +"Didn't I tell you the brotherhood stands by its own? Besides, we +couldn't make a liar out of you, now could we?" + +Hyrst began to laugh, just a little bit hysterically. He told Bellaver, +"There's your starship. And Shearing says if I'm not alive when he comes +aboard to get me, that they won't be as careful about warping space when +they go away as they were when they came." + +Bellaver did not say anything. He sat on the deck where the shock had +thrown him, not speaking. He was still sitting there when Hyrst passed +through the airlock into the starship's boat, and he did not move even +when the great ship vanished silently into whatever mysterious +ultra-space the minds of the Lazarites had unlocked, outbound for the +limitless freedom of the universe, where the wheeling galaxies thunder +on forever across infinity and the stars burn bright, and there is +nothing to stop the march of the Legion of Lazarus. And who knew, who +could tell, where that march would end? + +Aboard the starship, already a million miles away, Hyrst said to +Christina. "When they brought me back from beyond the door, that was +re-awakening. But this--this is being born again." + +She did not answer that. But she took his hand and smiled. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Legion of Lazarus, by Edmond Hamilton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEGION OF LAZARUS *** + +***** This file should be named 32486.txt or 32486.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/8/32486/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://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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