First Command (57 page)

But Grimes, somehow and suddenly, was not worried by this dismal prospect.

He said, “All right, now let’s get ourselves organized. I intend to proceed at a low quarter gravity, just enough for comfort. You, Doctor, can patch Flannery up.”

“In his condition, Captain, I’d better keep him under heavy sedation for a while.”

“You will not. As for you, Mr. Flannery, I want you to listen as you’ve never listened before in your misspent life.”

“But there’s no traffic at all, at all, in this sector o’ space, Skipper.”

“For a start, you can keep me informed as to how things are aboard
Discovery,
while you can still pick up her psionic broadcasts. It won’t surprise me a bit if there are one or two mutinies yet to come. But, mainly, you keep your psionic ears skinned for
Sundowner.
”

“
Sundowner?
”
demanded Rath. “What would she be doing out here?”

“You’ll be surprised,” said Grimes. He thought,
I
hope you will.

Chapter 34

A ship’s boat
is not the ideal craft in which to make a long voyage. Even when it is not loaded to capacity with survivors there is an inevitable lack of privacy. Its life-support systems are not designed for the production of gourmet food, although there is a continuous flow of scientifically balanced nutriment. Grimes—who, after a couple of disastrous experiments by Dr. Rath, had appointed himself cook—did his best to make the processed algae palatable, using sparingly (he did not know how long he would have to make them last) the synthetic flavorings he found in a locker in the tiny galley. But always at the back of his mind—and at the backs of the minds of his two companions—was the off-putting knowledge that the vegetable matter from the tanks had been nourished directly by human wastes.

The main trouble, however, was not the food, but the company. Rath had no conversation. Flannery, at the slightest excuse, would wax maudlin over the death of Ned, his hapless psionic amplifier. Lacking this aid to telepathic communication, and with nobody aboard
Discovery
a strong natural transmitter, he was not able for long to keep Grimes informed as to what was going on aboard the ship. It was learned, however, that Brabham and Swinton were not on the best of terms, each thinking that he should be captain. And Sally had been the victim of a gang rape—which, said Flannery, grinning lubriciously, she had enjoyed at the beginning but not at all toward the finish. And Vinegar Nell had taken up with Brabham. Grimes, puffing at his vile pipe, felt some sympathy for her. The only way that she stood a chance of escaping Sally’s fate was by becoming the woman of one of the leaders of the mutiny.

And then
Discovery,
as the distance between her and the boat rapidly increased, faded from Flannery’s ken. It was at this time that the three men became acutely conscious of their utter loneliness, the frightening awareness that they were in a frail metal and plastic bubble crawling, at a pitiful one quarter G acceleration, across the empty immensities between the uncaring stars. They were on a voyage from nowhere to nowhere—and unless Davinas happened along it would take a lifetime.

The days passed. The weeks passed—and Grimes was beginning to face the sickening realization that his famous luck had indeed run out. And yet, he knew, he had to hang on. As long as Rath and Flannery wanted to go on living (what for?) he was responsible for them. He was captain here, just as he had been captain of
Discovery.
He was in charge, and he would stay in charge. He hoped.

One evening—according to the boat’s chronometer—he and Rath were playing a desultory game of chess. Flannery was watching without much interest. Suddenly the telepath stiffened. He whispered, vocalizing what he was hearing in his mind, “Two no trumps.”

“We are playing chess, not bridge!” snapped Rath irritably . . . “Quiet!” warned Grimes.

“I wish I could tell Jim what I have in my hand,” murmured Flannery, almost inaudibly. “But I have to observe the code. But surely he knows he can afford to bid three over Bill’s two hearts.”

“Parley?” asked Grimes in a low, intent voice. “Parley,” agreed Flannery. “
Parley?
”
demanded Rath.

“He
was
PCO of
Sundowner,
”
Grimes told him. “When
Sundowner’s
owners had her fitted with Carlotti equipment he became redundant. But he qualified as a Carlotti operator, and stayed in the ship.”

“He was a traitor to our cloth, so he was,” muttered Flannery. “An’ he knows it. When I met him, on New Maine, he told me that he was bitter ashamed o’ goin’ over to the enemy. He said that he envied me, he did, an’ that he’d sell his blessed soul to be in my place, with a sweet amplifier like Ned as a true companion. But we didn’t know then what was goin’ to happen to Ned, lyin’ all broken on the cruel hard deck, wi’ the murtherin’ bastard Swinton’s boot a-crashin’ into his soft, naked tissues.”

“
Damn Ned!
”
swore Grimes, shocking the telepath out of his self-induced misery. “Forget about that bloody dingo and get on with the job! Concentrate on getting a message through to Parley.
Sundowner
can’t be far off if you can pick up his random thoughts.”

“I am so concentratin’,” said Flannery, with injured dignity. “But ye’ll have to help.”

“How? I’m no telepath.”

“But ye have to be me amplifier. The blessed God an’ all His saints know that ye’re no Ned, nor ever will be, but ye have to do. Give me a . . . a carrier wave. Ye saw the ship. Ye were aboard her. You got the
feel
of her. Now, concentrate. Hard. Visualize the ould bitch, how she was lookin’ when she was sittin’ on her pad, how she was, inside, when ye were suppin’ yer drinks with the man Davinas.”

Grimes concentrated, making almost a physical effort of it. He formed in his mind a picture of the shabby star tramp as he had first seen her, at her loading berth in the New Maine commercial spaceport. He recalled his conversation with Captain Davinas in the master’s comfortable dayroom. And then he could not help recalling the later events of that night, back aboard his own ship, when Vinegar Nell had offered herself to him on a silver tray, trimmed with parsley.

“Forget that bitch!” growled Flannery. “Bad cess to her, wherever she is, whatever she’s a-doin’.” And then, “Parley, come in, damn ye. Parley, t’is yer boozin’ pal Flannery here, an’ t’is in desperate straits I am. Oh, the man’s all wrapped up in his silly game o’ cards. He’s just gone down, doubled an’ redoubled. Itouchin’ him, but not hard enough.”

“Drink this,” interrupted Rath, thrusting a full tumbler in to the telepath’s hand. It was, Grimes realized, brandy from the small stock kept in the medicine chest. Flannery took it, downed it in one gulp. The doctor whispered to Grimes, “I should have thought of that before. He’s not used to operating in a state of stone-cold sobriety.”

“An’ t’is right ye are, me good doctor,” murmured the telepath. “T’was fuel that the engine o’ me brain was needin’. Parley, come in, or be damned to ye. Come in, man, come in. Yes, t’is Flannery here. Ye met me on New Maine. Yes, this is an SOS.” He turned to Grimes. “Have ye a position, Captain? No? An’ ye’re supposed to be a navigator.” Then, resuming his intent whisper, “We don’t know where we are. There’s three of us in a boat—the Old Man, the Quack, an’ me self. No mini-Mannschenn, no Carlotti. Ye can home on us, can’t ye? Yes, yes, I know ye have no psionic amplifier, but nor have I, now. An’ what was that? Oh. Captain Davinas sends his regards to Commander Grimes. I’ll pass that on. An’ you can tell Captain Davinas that Commander Grimes sends
his
regards. An’ tell Captain Davinas, urgently, on no account to break radio silence on his Carlotti. There’s a shipload o’ mutineers, armed to the teeth, scullin’ around in this sector o’ space.” Then, to the doctor, “Me fuel’s runnin’ low.” Rath got him another glass of brandy. “I’ll keep on transmittin’, Parley. Just be tellin’ your Old Man which way to point his ship, an’ ye’ll be on to us in two shakes o’ the lamb’s tail. Good . . . good.”

Grimes looked at Rath, and Rath looked at Grimes. A slow smile spread over the doctor’s normally glum face. He said, “I really don’t think that I could have stood your company much longer, Captain.”

“Or I yours, Doctor.” He laughed. “And this means goodbye to your prospects of posthumous fame.”

“There may be another opportunity,” said Rath, still smiling, “but, frankly, I hope not!”

Chapter 35

It took longer for Davinas
to effect the rescue than had at first been anticipated. Like many merchant ships at that period
Sundowner
was not equipped with a Mass Proximity Indicator, the only form of radar capable of operating in a ship running under Mannschenn Drive. The merchant captain feared that if he were not extremely careful he might break through into the normal continuum in the position occupied by the boat. It is axiomatic that two solid bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Any attempt to make them do so is bound to have catastrophic consequences.

So Davinas, running on Mannschenn Drive, steering as instructed by Parley, kept the boat right ahead—and then, as soon as the ex-PCO reported that the relative bearing was now right astern, shut down his time-twister and his inertial drive, turned the ship, restarted inertial drive and ran back on the reciprocal trajectory, scanning the space ahead with his long-range radar. At last he picked up the tiny spark in his screen, and, after that, it was a matter of a few hours only.

Sundowner’s
holds were empty; Captain Davinas had persuaded his owners to let him make a special voyage to Botany Bay to make such advantageous arrangements as he could both with the local authorities and whatever scientific staff had been left on the Lost Colony by
Discovery.
It was decided to bring the boat into the ship through one of the cargo ports. This was achieved without any difficulty, Grimes jockeying the little craft in through the circular aperture with ease, and onto the cradle that had been prepared for her. Then, when the atmosphere had been reintroduced into the compartment, he opened his airlock doors. The air of
Sundowner
was better, he decided, than that inside the boat. It carried the taints inevitable in the atmosphere of all spaceships—hot machinery, the smell of cooking, the odor of living humanity—but not in concentrated form.

Gratefully Grimes jumped down from the airlock door to the deck; Davinas had restarted his inertial drive and the ship had resumed acceleration. He was greeted by
Sundowner’s
chief officer, still spacesuited but with his helmet visor open. “Good to have you aboard, Commander Grimes.”

“And it’s good to be aboard.”

“The master is waiting for you in the control room, sir. I’ll lead the way.”

“Thank you.”

Grimes and his companions followed the officer to the doorway into the axial shaft. They rode up to control in the elevator. Davinas was waiting in the control room. After the handshakings and the introductions he said, “Now, Commander, I’d like some information from you. With all due respect to your Mr. Flannery and my Mr. Parley, I got a rather confused picture. I
was
proceeding to Botany Bay, as I learn that the Lost Colony is called. At the moment I’m heading nowhere in particular; the inertial drive’s on only to give us gravity. Do you want me to set course for the Lost Colony again?”

“No,” said Grimes at last.
Discovery,
he knew, would be deliberately wasting time before her return to Botany Bay, and there was quite a good chance that
Sundowner
would get there first. But what could she do? She was not armed, and on the world itself there was a paucity of weaponry. There was no army, only a minimal constabulary. There was no navy, no air force. He had no doubt that the colonists would have no trouble manufacturing weapons, and very effective ones, if given time—but time was what they would not have. And if they tried to arrest the mutineers, knowing them to be criminals, immediately after their landing a massacre would be the result. (Swinton tended to specialize in massacres.) “I could pile on the lumes,” said Davinas. “No, Captain. This is not a warship, and Botany Bay has nothing in the way of arms beyond a few sporting rifles. I think you’d better take us straight to Lindisfarne Base.” He added, seeing the disappointment on the other’s face, “You’ll not lose by it. Your owners will be in pocket. The cost of your deviation, freight on the boat, passages for myself and Dr. Rath and Mr. Flannery. And I’ll do my damnedest to see that you get your charter as a liaison ship as soon as this mess is cleared up.”

“I see your point,” admitted Davinas at last. “And do you want me to get off a Carlottigram to your bosses on Lindisfarne, reporting the mutiny and all the rest of it?”

“No. I don’t have my code books with me, and I’ve no desire to broadcast to the whole bloody galaxy that the Survey Service has a mutiny on its hands. And I don’t want
Discovery
to know that I’ve been picked up. It’s strict radio silence, I’m afraid, until we start talking on NST before we land on Lindisfarne. That’s the only safe way.”

Davinas agreed, then gave orders to his navigator. That young man, Grimes noted, was far more efficient than Tangye. (But Tangye was one of those to whom he owed his continued existence.) The change of trajectory was carried out with no fuss and bother, and in a very short time
Sundowner
was lined up on the target star. Davinas went down then, asking Grimes to accompany him.

Over drinks Grimes filled Davinas in on all (well, not quite all) that had happened since their last meeting. The tramp captain asked, “And what will happen to your mutineers, John?”

“Plenty,” replied Grimes grimly. “There are two crimes of which the Survey Service takes a very dim view—piracy is one, and mutiny is the other. The penalty for both is the same—a spacewalk without a spacesuit.”

“Even when there was nobody killed during the mutiny?”

“Even then.” Grimes stared thoughtfully at the trickle of smoke issuing from the bowl of his pipe. “Somehow, I wish it weren’t so. There’s only one man among ‘em who’s really bad, all the way through. That’s Swinton, of course. The others . . . I can sympathize with them. They’d reached the stage, all of them, when they felt that they owed the Service no loyalty.”