United States or New Zealand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He asks that you receive him when you can, sir." Bors's apparent lack of surprise was real. He wasn't surprised. But he was annoyed with himself for expecting something so impossible as the Sylva tracing the fleet through an overdrive voyage of days to a most unlikely destination like Glamis. "Tell him to come aboard," he commanded.
Bors's own voice went out on the air, steely-hard. "Captain Bors, pirate ship Isis speaking," he said coldly. "We demanded supplies. They were sent us government-supplied. We have found one booby-trap included. In retaliation for this attempted assassination, we are going to lob chemical-explosive missiles into the principal government buildings of this city.
They were surrounded by enemies, but when those enemies tried to gather together for strength, the mass of murderously-fighting ships of Kandar swung upon the incipient group and blasted it. Nearly half the Mekinese fleet was out of action before Bors's ship fired a single missile.
He moved to verify again the complete pulverizing of the ashes in the fireplace. The communicator buzzed. He pressed the answer button. A voice said, "Sir, the space-liner Vestis reports breakout from overdrive. Now driving for port. Message ends." Bors's eyes popped wide. He'd heard exactly that only minutes ago! It could be coincidence, but it was a very remarkable one.
It seemed to those below that the pirate crew was taken unawares by the cargo-ship's escape. That was part of Bors's plan. A weapon of the grounded Isis roared. A missile hurtled after the fugitive, and missed. It went on past its apparent target and did not even detonate at nearest proximity, as it should have done. It vanished, and the cargo-ship continued to rise in seemingly panicky fashion.
We are pirates. We are outcasts. But we still have arms to defend ourselves with! We demand...." A voice said curtly in Bors's ear, "Cargo-ship secured, sir." "Take off on rockets and maneuver as ordered," said Bors. "Then rendezvous as arranged." He returned his attention to the broadcast. It was a deliberately savage, painstakingly desperate, carefully terrifying message to the people of Tralee.
Can we all have this before the Mekinese get here?" "I hope so," said Bors's voice. "We're trying hard, anyhow. Will you report to ground?" "Right," said the speakers in the ship which had just fired fifteen missiles without a hit or interception. "Off." And then the compartment doors opened again and the normal sounds of a small fighting ship in space began again.
But there would be no reason in such a state of things!" Morgan settled himself luxuriously in a self-adjusting chair. He thrust a cigar on Bors and lighted up zestfully. "I've been wanting to spout about that," he observed, "even if I'm no theoretician. Look here! What is true? What is truth? What's the difference between a false statement and a true one?" Bors's eyes wandered to the door again.
He said over the ship's speakers, "Everything going well so far. Prize crew, take the cargo-ship. Keep the crew aboard. Then report." Ten men poured out of the grounded light cruiser's starboard port and trotted on the double toward the other ship aground. The weapons on Bors's ship did not bear upon it. The sun shone. Clouds drifted tranquilly across the sky.
It needed a long solar-system drive to make its planetfall. Bors's long-range radar picked it up before it was near enough to notify its arrival to the planet if it intended to notify at all. Most likely its program was simply and frighteningly to appear overhead and arrogantly demand the services of the landing-grid to lower it to the ground.
Word Of The Day