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Now, if you'll help me find my stuff and bring some of it a computer and so on up to the lounge?" They did so; the "and so on" proving to be a bewildering miscellany indeed. "Thank you immensely, gentlemen; now I won't bother you any more." "You've learned a lot, Doc, and we haven't learned much of anything." Deston grinned ruefully. "That makes you the director.
His first, last, and only subspace command, of course, since he was now a married man. Deston had wanted to resign while still a First Officer, but his superiors would not accept his resignation until his promotion "for outstanding services" came through. Thus, Ex-Captain Carlyle Deston and his wife were dead-heading, not quite back to Earth, but to the transfer-point for the planet Newmars.
"I never even thought of that angle. That nails it down solid." "With the added attraction," Jones went on, coldly and steadily, "of having two extremely desirable female women for eleven months before killing them, too." Both girls shrank visibly, and Deston said: "Check. I thought that was the main feature, but it didn't add up. This does. Now, how will they figure the battle?
Deston could have set any hours he pleased, but he didn't. There was plenty of time. Eleven months in deep space is a fearfully, a tremendously long time. "Morning," "afternoon," "evening," and "night" were, of course, purely conventional terms.
Subspace Radio Test Ninety-Five I think. How do you read me, Control Six?" The reply was highly unorthodox. It was a wild yell, followed by words not directed at Deston at all. "Captain Reamer! Captain French! Captain Holloway! ANYBODY! It's the Procyon! The PROCYON, that was lost a year ago! Unless some fool is playing a dumb joke." "It's no joke I hope."
After just the right amount of holding back and objecting, Lopresto agreed. "You win, Newman, the way the cards lay. Have you ever planned this kind of an operation or do you want me to?" "You do it, Vince," Newman said, grandly. He had at least one of the qualities of a leader. "Besides, you already have, ain't you?" "Of course. Ferdy will take Deston " "No he won't! He's mine, the louse!"
Seizing Barbara by an arm, he leaped out of bed with her. "We're abandoning ship get into this suit quick!" "But what ... but I've got to dress!" "No time! Snap it up!" He practically hurled her into her suit; clamped her helmet tight. Then he leaped into his own. "Skipper!" he snapped into the suit's microphone. "Deston. Emergency! Abandon ship!"
Barbara held out her hands. "Since they don't want to shoot us two yet these are all the weapons I'll need." "Against a man-mountain like that? You're that good? Really?" "Especially against a man-mountain like that. I'm that good. Really," and both Joneses began to realize what Deston already knew just how deadly those harmless-seeming weapons could be.
From the facts: One, that in the absence of that field the subspace radio will function normally; and Two, that no subspace-radio messages have ever been received from survivors; the conclusion seems inescapable that the discharge of this unknown field is in fact of extreme violence." "Good God!" Deston exclaimed. "Oh ... that was what you meant by 'fantastic precautions, back there?"
"Let's see ... one gravity, plus and minus ... velocity ... time ... it'll take about eleven months?" "Just about," Jones agreed, and Adams nodded. "Well, if that's what the cards say, there's no use yowling about it," and all nine survivors went to work. Deston, besides working, directed the activities of all the others except Adams; who worked harder and longer than did anyone else.
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