The Keith Laumer MEGAPACK®: 21 Classic Stories. Keith Laumer
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pits now, Terrestrial,” Shluh said in Terran. “Why do you venture here?”
“Pull over there in the shadow of the tower and stop,” Retief said.
Shluh complied. Retief studied the row of four slender ships parked on the ramp, navigation lights picked out against the early dawn colors of the sky.
“Which of those boats are ready to lift?” Retief demanded.
Shluh swiveled a choleric eye.
“All of them are shuttles; they have no range. They will not help you.”
“To answer the question, Shluh, or to get another crack on the head.”
“You are not like other Terrestrials! You are a mad dog!”
“We’ll rough out a character sketch of me later. Are they all fueled up? You know the procedures here. Did those shuttles just get in, or is that the ready line?”
“Yes. All are fueled and ready for take-off.”
“I hope you’re right, Shluh. You and I are going to drive over and get in one; if it doesn’t lift, I’ll kill you and try the next. Let’s go.”
“You are mad! I have told you—these boats have not more than ten thousand ton-seconds capacity. They are useful only for satellite runs.”
“Never mind the details. Let’s try the first in line.”
Shluh let in the clutch and the steam car clanked and heaved, rolled off toward the line of boats.
“Not the first in line,” Shluh said suddenly. “The last is the more likely to be fueled. But—”
“Smart grasshopper,” Retief said. “Pull up to the entry port, hop out and go right up. I’ll be right behind you.”
“The gangway guard. The challenging of—”
“More details. Just give him a dirty look and say what’s necessary. You know the technique.”
* * * *
The car passed under the stern of the first boat, then the second. There was no alarm. It rounded the third and shuddered to a stop by the open port of the last vessel.
“Out,” Retief said. “To make it snappy.”
Shluh stepped from the car, hesitated as the guard came to attention, then hissed at him and mounted the steps. The guard looked wonderingly at Retief, mandibles slack.
“An outworlder!” he said. He unlimbered his scatter-gun. “To stop here, meat-faced one.”
Shluh froze, turned.
“To snap to attention, litter-mate of drones!” Retief rasped in Groacian. The guard jumped, waved his eye stalks and came to attention.
“About face!” Retief hissed. “Hell out of here—to march!”
The guard tramped off across the ramp. Retief took the steps two at a time, slammed the port shut behind himself.
“I’m glad your boys have a little discipline, Shluh,” Retief said. “What did you say to him?”
“I but—”
“Never mind. We’re in. Get up to the control compartment.”
“What do you know of Groacian naval vessels?”
“Plenty. This is a straight copy from the lifeboat you lads hijacked. I can run it. Get going.”
Retief followed Shluh up the companionway into the cramped control room.
“Tie in, Shluh,” Retief ordered.
“This is insane!” Shluh said. “We have only fuel enough for a one-way transit to the satellite. We cannot enter orbit, nor can we land again! To lift this boat is death—unless your destination is our moon.”
“The moon is down, Shluh,” Retief said. “And so are we. But not for long. Tie in.”
“Release me,” Shluh gasped. “I promise you immunity.”
“If I have to tie you in myself, I might bend your head in the process.”
Shluh crawled onto the couch, strapped in.
“Give it up,” he said. “I will see that you are reinstated—with honor! I will guarantee a safe conduct.”
“Countdown,” Retief said. He threw in the autopilot.
“It is death!” Shluh screeched.
The gyros hummed; timers ticked; relays closed. Retief lay relaxed on the acceleration pad. Shluh breathed noisily, his mandibles clicking rapidly.
“That I had fled in time,” Shluh said in a hoarse whisper. “This is not a good death….”
“No death is a good death,” Retief said. “Not for a while yet.” The red light flashed on in the center of the panel, and abruptly sound filled the universe. The ship trembled, lifted.
Retief could hear Shluh’s whimpering even through the roar of the drive.
* * * *
“Perihelion,” Shluh said dully. “To begin now the long fall back.”
“Not quite,” Retief said. “I figure eighty-five seconds to go.” He scanned the instruments, frowning.
“We will not reach the surface, of course,” Shluh said in Terran. “The pips on the screen are missiles. We have a rendezvous in space, Retief. In your madness, may you be content.”
“They’re fifteen minutes behind us, Shluh. Your defenses are sluggish.”
“Nevermore to burrow in the gray sands of Groac,” Shluh said.
Retief’s eyes were fixed on a dial face.
“Any time now,” he said softly. Shluh counted his eye stalks.
“What do you seek?”
Retief stiffened.
“Look at the screen,” he said. Shluh looked. A glowing point, off-center, moving rapidly across the grid….
“What—”
“Later!”
Shluh watched as Retief’s eyes darted from one needle to another.
“How….”
“For your own neck’s sake, Shluh,” Retief said, “you’d better hope this works.” He flipped the sending key.
“2396 TR-42 G, this is the Terrestrial Consul at Groac, aboard Groac 902, vectoring on you at an MP fix of 91/54/94. Can you read me? Over.”
“What forlorn gesture is this?” Shluh whispered. “You cry in the night to emptiness!”
“Button your mandibles,” Retief snapped, listening. There was a faint hum of stellar background noise. Retief repeated his call, waited.
“Maybe they hear but can’t answer,” he muttered. He flipped the key.
“2396, you’ve got twenty seconds to lock a tractor beam on me, or I’ll be past you like a shot of rum past a sailor’s bridgework….”
“To call into the void!” Shluh said. “To—”
“Look at the DV screen.”
* * * *
Shluh twisted his head, looked. Against the background mist of stars, a shape loomed, dark and inert.
“It is…a ship!” Shluh said. “A monster ship!”
“That’s her,” Retief said. “Nine years and a few months out of New Terra on a routine mapping mission. The missing cruiser—the IVS Terrific.”
“Impossible!”