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"'In the old times, there were sorcerers. They built the old buildings by wizard arts. Then the sorcerers fought among themselves and went away," Harkaman said. "That's all they know about it." You could make any kind of an explanation out of that. As the pinnaces pulled and nudged the Nemesis down to her berth, he could see people, far down on the spaceport floor, at work.
From this distance, though, even with an electron telescope, Calhoun could see no movement of any sort. There was no smoke, because electricity from the grid provided all the planet's power and heat, and there were no chimneys. The city looked like a colored map, with infinite detail but nothing which stirred. A tiny voice spoke. It was the voice of the spaceport. "Calling Med Ship.
Calhoun retrieved Murgatroyd who had been visiting with the wives of the higher-up officials. His small paunch distended with cakes and coffee and such delicacies as he'd been plied with. He was half comatose from over-feeding and over-petting, but he was glad to see Calhoun. At the spaceport they discovered the situation remained unchanged.
"Take over, Corbett." Tom turned to the teleceiver. "Rocket cruiser Polaris to spaceport control." " ... Blast off minus two six hundred forty-eight...." "I read you clear," said Tom. He clicked off the teleceiver and turned back to the intercom. "Stand by to raise ship! Control deck to radar deck. Do we have clear trajectory forward and up, Roger?" "All clear forward and up," replied Roger.
They knew Quent Miles would not hesitate to blast off whether anyone was within range of his exhaust or not. "Blast off, minus five, four, three, two, one zero!" Again the spaceport reverberated to the sound of a ship blasting off. All eyes watched the weirdly painted black ship shudder under the surge of power, and then shoot spaceward as if out of a cannon.
There were moving lights on the highway to the city at the moment Calhoun and the grid operator went into the Med Ship and closed the air-lock door behind them. The lights drew nearer. They raced. Then ground cars came rushing through the gate of the spaceport and flung themselves toward the wholly peaceful little Med Ship where it stood seeming to yearn toward the sky.
"Log yourself in as skipper with me along as supercargo. I'll ride in the second pilot's chair." Tom snapped a sharp salute and added vocally, "Aye, aye, sir!" He turned back to the control board, strapped himself into the command pilot's seat and opened the circuit to the spaceport control tower. "Rocket cruiser Polaris to spaceport control," he droned into the microphone. "Check in!"
"We've lost enough time as it is." "No, no please!" moaned the cabman. "Lemme go! Take the cab. Drive it to the spaceport and just leave it, but please don't turn me over to the Solar Guard. If I'm seen with them, I'll be " Suddenly the man darted to one side, eluded Astro's lunge, and scampered away. In a moment he was swallowed up in the darkness.
Suggested, that we travel a long distance, pick out a relatively small world, land and seize its spaceport and facilities and equip ourselves to bomb Mekin to extinction. And do it in a surprise attack! Suggested " The king shook his head angrily. He did not look royal. He did not look confident. He looked embittered and even helpless.
Come up and fight or we blast you in your spaceport! Just to prove we can do it watch!" Bors said, "Fire one," and a missile went off toward the planet. It was fused to detonate at the very tip of the fringes of the planet's atmosphere. It did. There was light more brilliant than a thousand suns. The long low shadows of sunrise vanished. The new-rising sun turned dim by comparison.
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