The Best of (6 page)

"Once the trip has been successfully made the inventors will not rest until they have found a way of carrying freight between the two worlds at economic rates. It may take them ten years to do it, it may take them a century, but sooner or later, do it they will...

"And that, gentlemen, will mean the end of Metallic Industries...

There was a pause during which no one spoke. Drakin looked around to see the effect of his words.

"Gratz has told me," he continued, "that I.C. is convinced their ship is capable of the journey. Is that not so?.

"It is," I confirmed. "They have complete faith in her and so have I...

Old John Ball's voice rose again. "If this is not nonsense why have we let it go on? Why has I.C. been allowed to build this vessel without interference? What is the good of having a man there who does nothing to hinder the work?" He glared at me.

"You mean?" inquired Drakin.

"I mean that this man has been excellently placed to work sabotage. Why has there been none? It should be simple enough to cause an 'accidental' explosion...

"Very simple," agreed Drakin. "So simple that I.C. would jump to it at once. Even if there were a genuine accident they would suspect that we had a hand in it. Then we should have our hands full with an expensive vendetta. Furthermore I.C. would recommence building with additional precautions and it is possible that we might not have a man on the inside.

"I take it that we are all agreed that the Nuntia must fail—but it must not be a suspicious failure. The Nuntia must sail. It is up to us to see that she does not return...

"Gratz has been offered a position aboard her but has not as yet returned a definite answer. My suggestion is that he should accept the offer with the object of seeing that the Nuntia is lost. The details I can leave to him...

Drakin went on to elaborate his plan. Directly the Nuntia had left, Metallic Industries would begin work on a spaceflyer of their own. As soon as possible she would follow Venus. Meanwhile I, having settled the Nuntia, would await her arrival.

In the unlikely event of the planet being found inhabited I was to get on good terms with the natives and endeavour to influence them against I.C. When the second ship arrived I was to be taken off and brought back to Earth while a party of M.I. men remained to survey and annex territory. On my return I would be sufficiently rewarded to make me rich for life.

"You will be doing a great work for us," he concluded, "and we do not forget our servants." He looked me straight in the eye as he said it. "Will you do it?.

I hesitated. "I would like a day or so to think it over...

"Of course. That is only natural. But there is not a great deal of time to spare—will you let me have your answer by this time tomorrow? It will give us a chance to make other arrangements in case you refuse...

"Yes, sir. That will do...

With that I left them. As to their further deliberations I can only guess. And my guesses are bitter.

Beyond an idea that it would appear better not to be too eager, I had no reason for putting off my answer. Already I had determined to go—and to wreck the Nuntia. I had waited many years to get in a blow at I.C., and now was my chance.

Ever since the death of my parents I had set my mind on injuring them. Not only had they killed my father by their negligence in the matter of unshielded rays but they had stolen his inventions and robbed him by prolonged litigation.

Enough, you say, to make a man swear revenge. But it was not all. I had to see my mother die in poverty when a few hundred dollars would have saved her life—and all our dollars had gone in fighting I.C.

After that I changed my name, got a job with I.C. and worked —hard. Mine was not going to be a paltry revenge. I was going to work up until I was in a responsible position, one from which my blows could really hurt them.

I had allied myself with Metallic Industries because this was their biggest rival and now I was given a chance to wreck the ship to which they had pinned such faith. I could have done that alone but it would have meant exile for the rest of my life. Now M.I. had smoothed the way by offering me passage home.

Yes, I was going to do it. The Nuntia should make one trip and no more.

But I'd like to know just what it was they decided in the Board Room after I left.

The Nuntia was two weeks in space but nobody was very happy about it.

In those two weeks the party of nine on board had been reduced to seven and the reduction had not had a good effect upon our morale. As far as I could tell there was no tangible suspicion afoot—just a feeling that all was not well.

Among the hands it was rumoured that Hammer and Drafte had gone crazy before they killed themselves. But why had they gone crazy? That was what worried the rest. Was it something to do with conditions in space—some subtle, unsuspected emanation? Would we all go crazy? When you are cut off from your kind you get strange fancies. Imagination gets overheated and you become too credulous. That is what used to happen to sailors on their long voyages in the old windjammers. They began to attribute the deaths to uncanny malign influences in a way which would never have occurred to them on Earth. It gave me some amusement at the time.

First had been Dale Hammer, the second navigator. Young, a bit wild at home, perhaps, but brilliant at his job, he was proud and overjoyed that he had been chosen for this voyage. He had gone off duty in a cheerful frame of mind.

A few hours later he had been found dead in his bunk with a bottle of tablets by his side: one had to take something to ensure sleep out here. Everyone agreed that it was understandable, though tragic, that he had taken an overdose by mistake.

It was after Ross Drafte's disappearance that the superstitions began to cluster. He was an odd man with an expression which was frequently taciturn and eyes in which burned feverish enthusiams. A failure might have driven him desperate but under the circumstances, he had everything to live for.

He was the designer of the Nuntia and she, the dream of his life, was endorsing his every expectation. When we returned to make public the story of our voyage his would be the name to be glorified through millions of radios, his the face which would stare from hundreds of newspapers—the conqueror of gravitation. And he had disappeared.

The airpressure graph showed a slight dip at one point and Drafte was.no more.

I saw no trace of suspicion. No one had even looked askance at me nor, so far as I knew, at anyone else. No one had the least inkling that any one man aboard the ship could tell them exactly how those two men had died. There was just the conviction that something queer was afoot.

And now it was time for another.

Ward Govern, the chief engineer, was in the chartroom, talking with Captain Tanner. The rest were busy elsewhere. I slipped into Govern's cabin unobserved. His pistol I found in the drawer where he always kept it and I slipped it into my pocket. Then I crossed to the other wall and opened the ventilator which communicated with the passage. Finally, after carefully assuring myself that no one was in sight, I left, closing the door behind me.

I had not long to wait. In less than a quarter of an hour I heard the clatter of a pair of magnetic shoes on the steel floor and the engineer passed cheerfully by on his way to turn in. The general air of misgiving had had less effect upon him than upon anyone else. I heard the door slam behind him. I allowed him a few moments before I moved as quietly to the ventilator as my magnetic soles would allow.

I could see him quite easily. He had removed his shoes and was sitting at a small wall desk, entering the day's events in his diary. I thrust the muzzle of the pistol just within the slot of the ventilator and with the other hand began to make slight scratching noises. It was essential that he should come close to me. There must be a burn or at least powder marks.

The persistent scratching began to worry him. He glanced up in a puzzled fashion and held his head on one side, listening. I went on scratching. He decided to investigate and released the clips which held his weightless body to the chair. Without bothering to put on the magnetic shoes, he pushed himself away from the wall and came floating towards the ventilator. I let him get quite close before I fired.

There was a clatter of running feet mingling with cries of alarm. I dropped the pistol inside my shirt and jumped around the corner, reaching the cabin door just ahead of a pair who came from the other direction. We flung it open and I dashed in. Govern's body under the impetus of the shot had floated back into the middle of the room. It looked uncanny, lying asprawl in midair.

"Quick," I yelled, "fetch the Captain...

One of them pelted to the door. I managed to keep my body between the other and the corpse while I closed the dead fingers around the pistol. A few seconds later everybody had collected about the doorway and the Captain had to push them aside to get in.

He examined the body. It was not a pleasant sight. The blood had not yet ceased to flow from the wound in the head but it did not drip as it would on Earth. Instead it had spurted forth to form into red spheres, which floated freely close beside the corpse. There was no doubt that the shot had been fired at close range. The Captain looked at the outflung hand which gripped the automatic.

"What happened?.

No one seemed to know.

"Who found him?.

"I was here first, sir," I said. "Just before the others...

"Anyone with you when you heard the shot?.

"No, sir. I was just walking along the passage—.

"That's right, sir. We met Gratz running 'round the corner'...

Somebody supported me.

"You didn't see anyone else about?.

"No, sir...

"And was it possible, do you think, for anybody to have gotten out of the room unseen between the time of the shot and your arrival?.

"Quite impossible, sir. He would have been bound to walk straight into me or the others—even if there had been time for him to get out of the room...

"Very well. Please help me with this." He turned to the other four who were still lingering in a group near the door. "You men get back to work now...

Two began to move off but the other pair, Willis and Trail, both mechanics, held their ground.

"Didn't you hear me? Get along there...

Still they hesitated. Then Willis stepped forward and the Captain's unbelieving ears heard his demand that the Nuntia be turned back. "You don't know what you're saying, man!.

"I do, sir, and so does Trail. There's something queer about it all. It's not natural for men to kill themselves like this. Perhaps we'll be next. When we signed up we knew we'd have dangers we could see but didn't reckon with something that makes you go mad and kill yourself. We don't like it—and we ain't going on. Turn the ship back...

"Don't be a pair of fools. You ought to know that we can't turn back. What do you think this is—a rowbgat? What's the matter with you?.

The two faces in front of him were set in lines of stolid determination. Willis spoke again.

"We've had enough and that's flat. It was bad enough when two had gone but now it's three. Who's going to be the next? That's what I want to know...

"That's what we all want to know," said the Captain meaningly. "Why are you so anxious to have the ship turned back?.

"Because it's wrong—unlucky. We don't want to go crazy even if you do. If you don't turn her back we will...

"So that's the way it blows, is it? Who's paying you for this?.

Willis and Trail remained uncomprehending.

"You heard me," he roared. "Who's behind you? Who's out to wreck this trip?.

Willis shook his head. "Nobody's behind us. We just want to get out of this before we go crazy too," he repeated.

"Went crazy, eh?" said the Captain with a sneer. "Well maybe they did and then again, maybe they didn't—and if they didn't I've got a pretty good idea what happened to them." He paused. "So you think you'll scare me into turning back, do you? Well, by the stars, you won't, you bilge rats. Get back to your work. I'll deal with you later...

But neither Willis nor Trail had any intention of getting back. They came on. Trail was swinging a threatening spanner. I snatched the pistol from the corpse's hands and got him in the forehead. It was a lucky shot. Willis tried to stop. I got him, too.

The Captain turned and saw me handling the pistol. The suddenness of the thing had taken him by surprise. I could see that he didn't know whether to thank me or to blame me for so summary an execution of justice. There was no doubt that the pair had mutinied and that Trail, at least, had meant murder. Strong and Danver, the two men in the doorway, stared speechlessly. Nine men had sailed in the Nuntia—four now remained. For the time the Captain said nothing. We waited, looking at the two bodies still swaying eerily, anchored to the floor by their magnetic shoes. At last the Captain broke the silence.

"It's going to be hard work for four men," he said. "But if each of us pulls his weight we may win through yet. To the two of you all the engine room work will fall. Gratz, do you know anything of threedimensional navigation?.

"Very little, sir...

"Well, you'll have to learn—and quickly...

After the business of disposing the bodies through the airlock was finished, he led me to the navigation room. Half to himself I heard him murmur, "I wonder which it was? Trail, I should guess. He's the type...

"Beg your pardon, sir?.

"I was wondering which of those two was the murderer...

"Murderer, sir?" I said.

"Murderer, Gratz. I said and I mean it. Surely you didn't think those deaths were natural?.

"They seemed natural..."

"They were well enough managed but there was too much coincidence. Somebody was out to wreck this trip and kill us all...

"I don't see—.

"Think, man, think," he interrupted. "Suppose the secret of the Nuntia got out in spite of all our care? There are plenty of people who would want her to fail...

I flatter myself that I managed my surprise rather well.