The Keith Laumer MEGAPACK®: 21 Classic Stories. Keith Laumer
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we’ll make our pass at about five thousand yards.”
“To what end, Terrestrial? You have found your lost ship. Then what? Is this glimpse worth the death we die?”
“Maybe they’re not dead,” Retief said.
“Not dead?” Shluh lapsed into Groacian. “To have died in the burrow of one’s youth. To have burst my throat sac ere I embarked with a mad alien to call up the dead.”
“2396, make it snappy,” Retief called. The speaker crackled heedlessly. The dark image on the screen drifted past, dwindling now.
“Nine years, and the mad one speaking as to friends,” Shluh raved. “Nine years dead, and still to seek them.”
“Another twenty seconds,” Retief said softly, “and we’re out of range. Look alive, boys.”
“Was this your plan, Retief?” Shluh asked in Terran. “Did you flee Groac and risk all on this slender thread?”
“How long would I have lasted in one of your Groaci prisons?”
“Long and long, my Retief,” Shluh hissed, “under the blade of an artist.”
Abruptly, the ship trembled, seemed to drag, rolling the two passengers in their couches. Shluh hissed as the restraining harness cut into him. The shuttle boat was pivoting heavily, upending. Crushing acceleration forces built. Shluh gasped and cried out shrilly.
“What…is…it?”
“It looks,” Retief said, “like we’ve had a little bit of luck.”
V
“On our second pass,” the gaunt-faced officer said, “they let fly with something. I don’t know how it got past our screens. It socked home in the stern and put the main pipe off the air. I threw full power to the emergency shields, and broadcast our identification on a scatter that should have hit every receiver within a parsec. Nothing. Then the transmitter blew. I was a fool to send the boat down but I couldn’t believe, somehow….”
“In a way it’s lucky you did, Captain. That was my only lead.”
“They tried to finish us after that. But with full power to the screens, nothing they had could get through. Then they called on us to surrender.”
Retief nodded. “I take it you weren’t tempted?”
“More than you know. It was a long swing out on our first circuit. Then, coming back in, we figured we’d hit. As a last resort I would have pulled back power from the screens and tried to adjust the orbit with the steering jets. But the bombardment was pretty heavy; I don’t think we’d have made it. Then we swung past and headed out again. We’ve got a three year period. Don’t think I didn’t consider giving up.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“The information we have is important. We’ve got plenty of stores aboard. Enough for another ten years, if necessary. Sooner or later, I knew Search Command would find us.”
Retief cleared his throat. “I’m glad you stuck with it, Captain. Even a backwater world like Groac can kill a lot of people when it runs amok.”
“What I didn’t know,” the captain went on, “was that we’re not in a stable orbit. We’re going to graze atmosphere pretty deeply this pass, and in another sixty days we’d be back to stay. I guess the Groaci would be ready for us.”
“No wonder they were sitting on this so tight,” Retief said. “They were almost in the clear.”
“And you’re here now,” the captain said. “Nine years, and we weren’t forgotten. I knew we could count on—”
“It’s over now, Captain,” Retief said. “That’s what counts.”
“Home,” the captain said. “After nine years….”
* * * *
“I’d like to take a look at the films you mentioned,” Retief said. “The ones showing the installations on the satellite.”
The captain complied. Retief watched as the scene unrolled, showing the bleak surface of the tiny moon as the Terrific had seen it nine years before.
In harsh black and white, row on row of identical hulls cast long shadows across the pitted metallic surface of the satellite. Retief whistled.
“They had quite a little surprise in store. Your visit must have panicked them.”
“They should be about ready to go, by now. Nine years….”
“Hold the picture,” Retief said suddenly. “What’s that ragged black line across the plain there?”
“I think it’s a fissure. The crystalline structure—”
“I’ve got what may be an idea,” Retief said. “I had a look at some classified files last night, at the foreign office. One was a progress report on a fissionable stockpile. It didn’t make much sense at the time. Now I get the picture. Which is the ‘north’ end of that crevasse?”
“At the top of the picture.”
“Unless I’m badly mistaken, that’s the bomb dump. The Groaci like to tuck things underground. I wonder what a direct hit with a fifty mega-ton missile would do to it?”
“If that’s an ordnance storage dump,” the captain said, “it’s an experiment I’d like to try.”
“Can you hit it?”
“I’ve got fifty heavy missiles aboard. If I fire them in direct sequence, it should saturate the defenses. Yes, I can hit it.”
“The range isn’t too great?”
“These are the de luxe models,” the captain smiled balefully. “Video guidance. We could steer them into a bar and park ’em on a stool.”
“What do you say we try it?”
“I’ve been wanting a solid target for a long time,” the captain said.
* * * *
Retief waved a hand toward the screen.
“That expanding dust cloud used to be the satellite of Groac, Shluh,” he said. “Looks like something happened to it.”
The police chief stared at the picture.
“Too bad,” Retief said. “But then it wasn’t of any importance, was it, Shluh?”
Shluh muttered incomprehensibly.
“Just a bare hunk of iron, Shluh. That’s what the foreign office told me when I asked for information.”
“I wish you’d keep your prisoner out of sight,” the captain said. “I have a hard time keeping my hands off him.”
“Shluh wants to help, Captain. He’s been a bad boy and I have a feeling he’d like to cooperate with us now. Especially in view of the imminent arrival of a Terrestrial ship, and the dust cloud out there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Captain, you can ride it out for another week, contact the ship when it arrives, get a tow in and your troubles are over. When your films are shown in the proper quarter, a task force will come out here. They’ll reduce Groac to a sub-technical cultural level, and set up a monitor system to insure she doesn’t get any more expansionist ideas. Not that she can do much now, with her handy iron mine in the sky gone.”
“That’s right; and—”
“On the other hand,” Retief said, “there’s what I might call the diplomatic approach….”
He explained at length. The captain looked at him thoughtfully.
“I’ll go along,” he said. “What about this fellow?”
Retief