Lesbee did not give voice to these thoughts. He was trying to draw his right arm from its straight-out position in front of him. By bending his elbow, he found movement was not impossible. Cautiously, he forced the arm backward, and with his fingers – and with nearly all his strength – grasped the seat of the control chair... fumbled along it to the push-button controls of the chair.

  Reached them! Poised his finger on the one that would swing the chair around to face the board -

  There he stopped. His mind was beginning to work again. And, though it was like speaking with a cake of soap in his mouth, he gulped at Browne: 'How much fuel... in engine?'

  Impossible to tell from the stunned expression on Browne's face if the question produced a cunning reaction. The commander's muffled answer was: 'Many hours!'

  Lesbee experienced instant disappointment. For that moment, for that brief moment, he had hopefully recalled the continual talk of fuel shortage. There had even been rumors that during the period of slowing down for Alta there had been times when the engine had only an hour or so of fuel. In fact, he himself had several times been asked to torch-cut metals from hidden parts of the ship. And this he had done, and had taken the product of his effort to the engine room, in the understanding that the drive was ravenous; that the stuff would be used immediately.

  If that were so, then where did the present relative plenty come from?

  Ruefully, Lesbee realized that the colonists had probably been subjected to a propaganda harassment. There was, of course, a fuel shortage. But Browne had exaggerated its immediacy to the point where he had been able to order Lesbee out as an expendable, and no one had said a word.

  But regrettably now, he believed Browne. There was fuel in the engines... His brief hope that the available fuel would burn up and release them – was shattered... They'd have to escape from the acceleration pressure some other way...The only method he had was extremely dangerous. Meanwhile, other actions -

  Lesbee pressed the button on the side of the control chair.

  The chair, power driven, whirled around; the movement did bobbling things to his internal organs, and his legs and arms flip-flopped, were swung about, and forced back. With a thud, he landed breathless against the long, cushioned back of the chair, dizzy but safe and, after a long moment, ready for his next move.

  Tensing his arm muscles for the awkward effort, Lesbee forced his arm up, reached with straining fingers for his pocket, and pushed down. It was like using flesh to prop a heavy object. But seconds later, his hand – bruised and strangely numb – was inside his pocket.

  With all his strength, he forced his hand to open, to grasp the remote-control device that was in that pocket. But he did not immediately activate its first stage. 'Wait,' he thought, 'till the Karn gets some distance away.'

  He sat there; rather, he remained in his squeezed position, breathing with difficulty, conscious of a developing exhaustion. That brought alarm. Was it possible that his body could wear itself out at four g's, sitting?

  Yet if he killed Dzing at once, that would leave him alone with Browne and his minions, facing a sentence of death which Browne had not rescinded.

  And if he merely stopped the acceleration, that would bring the Karn robot racing back to find out what had happened.

  ...Nonpermissible, yet how avoid it...?

  As Lesbee reasoned it, the longer he could hold off final action the better his chance of learning vital information. For example, the question of how Dzing had speeded up the ship's drive had to be correctly understood. With so much new force in motion, an unconsidered move could kill people instantly, might even damage the ship itself.

  With that thought, he began a careful examination of the big board in front of him. The minutes dragged; and still he continued his study. The extreme tiredness that rapidly grew on him began to be his main problem. He kept dozing, and he would awaken with the shocked realization that time had gone by.

  But presently he understood.

  The acceleration was twelve gravities; the artificial-gravity force was eight gravities. The gap between the two – four gravities – was the pressure that was affecting them so severely.

  Lesbee had a sense of awe. This was a new, unheard-of technique. It meant that drastic changes had been made by remote-control mental action in the drive and the artificial-gravity coils.

  Hitherto the use of artificial gravity at the same time as acceleration had not been possible. There simply wasn't enough power available. But Dzing had rectified that by creating a vast new power source; the rapid ejection and expansion of particles multiplied the usable energy by some huge amount; theoretically, it was tens of thousands of times greater. In practice, of course, at low speeds, it was only a few hundred times greater.

  But there was enough power for all conceivable contingencies.

  Sitting there, breathing in that labored fashion, Lesbee felt the fantastic reality of the universe. During all this slow century of flight through space, the Hope of Man had had the potential for this vastly greater velocity.

  'And Dr. Tellier missed it,' he thought.

  Missed it! And so a shipload of human beings had wandered for generations through the black deeps of interstellar space.

  Lesbee thought, 'the moment I activate the first of the three stages of my little control device, Dzing will lose his control of the drive and of the artificial gravity.'

  Unfortunately, it would probably also send him racing back to the alternate control board to find out what had happened.

  Lesbee realized he could not take any chances with that at all. He would have to activate the Karn's self-destruct system with Stage Three of his little control device. And what bothered him about that was, paradoxically, 'that the robot was a protection for him.

  The moment the creature was destroyed, the total power that Browne had aboard the ship would be reasserted. Lesbee thought, 'If I can gain just a few minutes time here, while I maneuver around with Browne -'

  He thought about that for a moment longer. And then, because he dared not delay, he pressed the first button and then the third one.

  Instantly, his body sagged in its belt, weightless.

  Lesbee held himself alert, listening. But if there was an explosion anywhere on the ship, its repercussion failed to reach him.

  He thought, appalled, 'Good God, can it be the destruct system didn't work?'

  The panicky feeling that came subsided before a new urgent problem. Across the room Browne was climbing groggily to his feet.

  He muttered: '... better get back to... control chair...'

  He had taken only a few uncertain steps when a realization seemed to strike him. He looked up, and stared wildly at Lesbee. 'Oh!' he said. It was a gasp of horrified understanding.

  There was no time any more to think about Dzing. As he slapped a complex of tractor beams on Browne, Lesbee said, 'That's right. You're looking at your enemy. Let's have that completely understood, because we haven't got much time. Now, I want to ask you some questions.'

  Browne was pale. He said huskily, 'I did what any lawful government does in an emergency. I dealt with treason summarily, taking time only to find out what it consisted of.'

  The explanation was a meaningless bit of nonsense, in view of the history of the ship. But Lesbee did not pause to argue. He had a tense consciousness of working against time. It was outrageous that he had to fight both Browne's forces and Dzing, but that was the fact; and so, hastily, he swung Browne over in front of him, and took his blaster.

  Lesbee felt better when he had the weapon. But there was still another danger. Without turning, he spoke at the screen that connected directly with the bridge: 'Mr. Miller, are you there?'

  There was no answer.

  Lesbee said to Browne, 'Tell Miller not to attempt preemption. Any attempt by him to take over control means I'll use this blaster on you. Got that, Miller?' His voice was uncompromising.

  Again, there was no reply.

  Browne said uneasily, 'He may have been knocked unconscious.'

  Lesbee ardently hoped so, but there was no time for verification. For a few, vital uninterrupted minutes, now, he needed Browne's knowledge.

  17

  It was a moment for a combination of deviousness and frankness. Lesbee would have given a lot to be able to send out a single question over the speaker system. He wanted desperately to ask if there had been an explosion anywhere on the ship.

  But if there had been – if Dzing were destroyed – that knowledge would apprise the Browne forces that they had only a lone human being to deal with; and they would act promptly.

  And so, he dared not try to verify that vital information.

  But there were several things that Browne could help him on, and might, during these tense minutes when he himself felt threatened.

  Lesbee said urgently: 'What bothers me is how that creature could walk out of here and not be affected by the acceleration? It's impossible, yet he did it.'

  He finished with a lie: 'I find myself reluctant to act against the creature until we have an understanding of what it was he did.'

  He had lowered the big man to the floor, and now he took some of the tension from the tractor beam, but did not release the power. Browne stood in apparent deep thought. Finally, he nodded. 'All right, I know what happened.'

  'Tell me!'

  Browne changed the subject, said in a deliberate tone, 'What are you going to do with me?'

  Lesbee stared at him disbelievingly. 'You're going to withhold this information?'

  Browne said, 'What else can I do? Till I know my fate, I have nothing to lose.'

  To Lesbee the words brought brief cynicism, 'What's this?' he said satirically. 'Could this be a scheme to utilize alien creatures to destroy human beings? Are you putting your own safety above that of the ship and its mission? Don't you think this justifies summary execution?'

  The tone must have alarmed Browne, for he said quickly, 'Look, there's no need for you to conspire any more. What you really want is to go home, isn't it? Don't you see, with this new method of acceleration, we can make it to Earth in a few months.'

  He stopped. He seemed uncertain.

  Lesbee said angrily, 'Who are you trying to fool? We're a dozen light-years in actual distance from Earth. You mean years, not months.'

  Browne hesitated. 'All right, a few years. But at least not a lifetime. So if you'll promise not to scheme against me further, I'll promise-'

  'You'll promise!' Lesbee spoke savagely. He had been taken aback by Browne's instant attempt to blackmail. But the momentary sense of defeat was gone. He knew with stubborn rage that he would stand for no nonsense.

  He said in an uncompromising tone, 'Mr. Browne, twenty seconds after I stop speaking, you start talking. I mean it.'

  Browne said, 'Are you going to kill me? That's the only thing I want reassurance on. Look' – his voice appealed – 'we don't have to fight any more. We can go home. Don't you see? The long madness is just about over. Nobody has to die. But quick, man, destroy that creature with your remote-control method!'

  Lesbee hesitated. What the other was saying was at least partly true. His words so far included an attempt to make twelve years sound like twelve weeks or, at most, twelve months. But the fact was, it was a short period compared to the century-long journey which, at one time, had been the only possibility.

  He thought, 'Am I going to kill him?'

  It was hard to believe that he would, under the circumstances. But if not death, what then? He sat there, uncertain. The vital seconds went by, and he could see no solution. He thought finally, in desperation: 'I'll have to give in for the moment.'

  'I'll promise you this,' he said. 'If you can figure out how I can feel safe in a ship commanded by you, I'll give your plan consideration. And now, mister, start talking.'

  Browne nodded. 'I accept that promise.'

  Browne went on, 'There are two possible explanations, and naturally I prefer the more commonplace one. That is, I postulate that this robot used some kind of energy flows, like a balance of tractor and pressor beams. He used this in the same instantaneous, or rapid, feedback system that you and I use in our muscles to balance ourselves when we walk under normal gravity.'

  'What is the second explanation?' Lesbee asked.

  'That takes us beyond normal response and normal energy situations. When we last saw the robot, the appearance he presented was of an object for which the entire phenomenon of inertia had been suspended. If this were true, then we are observing a big event, indeed. To understand it, we'd have to consider light-speed theories and, particularly, the Lorentz-Fitzgerald Contraction Theory. At the speed of light, mass becomes infinite but size is zero. Thus, matter ceases instantly to be subject to inertia as we know it. There is no other condition in the universe where that can happen naturally. Dzing has somehow created the condition artificially – if this second explanation is the true one.'

  Lesbee said doubtfully, 'I'm inclined to accept the tractor-pressor explanation. Is there any way we could determine which method he used?'

  Browne could think of no method for determining it after the event. 'If it was a combination of energy flows, then it probably registered on the board at the time. And it will show again when he comes into the room.'

  That, Lesbee realized, would be a little late to be useful. He asked helplessly, 'Is there anything we need to learn from this creature?'

  'We've already learned it,' said Browne. 'This thing has a casual control of energy and an understanding of space time that is far ahead of us scientifically. Therefore, we have no business in this sun system. So let's get out of here as fast as we can.'

  Lesbee was remembering how all the Karn on the lifeboat had pretended to be affected by inertia, when they evidently had not been.

  Aloud, he said, 'Maybe your second explanation does cover it better.'

  Browne shook his head. 'No, he'd have been here within instants, if that was what he could do. There's a state of compressed time at light-speed.'

  'How do you mean?'

  Browne was uneasy. 'Let's not waste time on an intellectual discussion,' he said.

  'I want to know what you mean.'

  'It's condensed time. He would have a time ratio, in relation to us, of hundreds to one. Ten minutes for us could be only a second for him.'

  'Then he should have been here by now, if that's what he could do?'

  'That's what I've been trying to tell you.'

  Lesbee had to fight to hold back his excitement. The thought in his mind was that by pressing Button Three immediately after Button One, he had prevented that kind of instantaneous return by the Karn.

  He thought, 'And I did it without even knowing how deadly dangerous the situation was, because I was logical, because I didn't want to take any chances.'

  He felt a great joy in himself.

  'For God's sake, Lesbee-'

  Lesbee's elation faded as rapidly as it had come, for Browne was as great a danger as ever.

  Lesbee gazed at the man gloomily.

  'For God's sake, Lesbee,' said Browne, 'that thing must be practically back here. Tell me what you want me to agree to, and I'll do it.'

  Lesbee said, 'I think we ought to have an election.'

  'I agree,' said Browne instantly. 'You set it up.' He broke off. 'And now release me from these tractors, and let's act.'

  Lesbee gazed at the man's face, saw there the same openness of countenance, the same frank, honest look that had preceded the execution order, and he thought, 'What can he do?'

  He considered many possibilities, and thought finally, desperately, 'He's got the advantage of superior knowledge – the most undefeatable weapon in the world. The only thing I can really hope to use against it in the final issue is my knowledge of a multitude of technician-level details.'

  But – what could Browne do against him?

  Lesbee said unhappily, 'Before I free you, I want to lift you over to Mindel. When I do, you get his blaster for me.'

  'Sure,' said Browne casually.

  A few minutes later he handed Mindel's gun over to Lesbee. So that wasn't it.

  Lesbee thought: 'There's Miller on the bridge – can it be that Miller flashed him a ready signal when my back was turned to the board?'

  Perhaps, like Browne, Miller had been temporarily incapacitated during the period of acceleration. It was vital that he find out Miller's present capability.

  Lesbee tripped the intercom between the two boards. The rugged, lined face of the first officer showed large on the screen. Lesbee could see the outlines of the bridge behind the man and, beyond, the starry blackness of space. Lesbee said courteously, 'Mr. Miller, how did you make out during the acceleration?'

  'It caught me by surprise, Captain. I really got a battering. I think I was out for a while. But I'm all right now.'

  'Good,' said Lesbee. 'As you probably heard, Captain Browne and I have come to an agreement, and we are now going to destroy the creature that is loose on the ship. Stand by!'

  Cynically, he broke the connection.

  Miller was there all right, waiting. But the question was still, what could Miller do? The answer was, of course, that Miller could pre-empt. And – Lesbee asked himself – what could that do?

  Suddenly, he had the answer.

  He now understood Browne's plan. They were waiting for Lesbee to let his guard down for a moment. Then Miller would take over, cut off the tractor beam from Browne, and seize Lesbee with it.

  For the two officers it was vital that Lesbee not have the time to fire the blaster at Browne. Lesbee thought: 'It's the only thing they can be worried about, so far as I'm concerned.' And as soon as Lesbee was dead, or under control, Browne would grab the mechanism out of his pocket, and activate Stage Three – which would destroy Dzing.

  Their plan, as Lesbee saw it, had only one flaw. Now that he had deduced what it was, he could turn it against them.

 

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