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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Monster ho!" the voice yelled. "About ten points off your port bow. We're circling over it now." "Monster ho!" Kivelson yelled into the intercom, in case anybody hadn't heard. "All hands to killing stations." Then he saw me standing there, wondering what was going to happen next. "Well, mister, didn't you hear me?" he bellowed. "Get to your gun!" Gee! I thought. I'm one of the crew, now.
If any of them are guilty of any crimes, and if you can show any better authority than an armed mob to deal with them, they may, may, I said, be turned over for trial. But they will not be taken from this spaceport by force, as long as I or one of my men remains alive." "That's easy. We'll get them afterward," Joe Kivelson shouted. "Somebody may. You won't," Ranjit Singh told him.
I knew Joe Kivelson wouldn't bring his ship in just to meet the Peenemünde, with only a couple of hundred hours' hunting left till the storms and the cold. "I thought you were down in the South Ocean," I said. "There's going to be a special meeting of the Co-op," he said. "We only heard about it last evening," by which he meant after 1800 of the previous Galactic Standard day.
"Well, do you think Ravick's gotten onto Murell yet?" Oscar said. "We kept that a pretty close secret. Joe and I knew about him, and so did the Mahatma and Nip Spazoni and Corkscrew Finnegan, and that was all." "I didn't even tell Tom, here, till the Peenemünde got into radio range," Joe Kivelson said. "Then I only told him and Ramón and Abdullah and Abe and Hans Cronje."
While we were fooling around with the radios, Ramón Llewellyn was telling the others what we found up the other branch of the fjord. Joe Kivelson shook his head over it. "That's too far from the boat. We can't trudge back and forth to work on the engines.
They were smart enough to know what Steve Ravick was really doing to Port Sandor, and it hurt them as much as it did the hunters. Dad and Bish seemed to be the only ones present who weren't in favor of going down to Hunters' Hall right away and massacring everybody in it, and then doing the same at the Municipal Building. "That's what I say!" Joe Kivelson was shouting.
They had Tom Kivelson in a private room at the hospital; he was sitting up in a chair, with a lot of pneumatic cushions around him, and a lunch tray on his lap. He looked white and thin. He could move one arm completely, but the bandages they had loaded him with seemed to have left the other free only at the elbow.
By the time the Javelin returned to Port Sandor, it would be full dark and rain, which would soon turn to snow, would be falling. Then we'd be in for it again for another thousand hours. Ramón Llewellyn was saying to Joe Kivelson: "We're one man short; Devis, Abdullah's helper. Hospital." "Get hurt in the fight, last night?
Then Glenn Murell broke in on the monotone call for help and the prayer. "We're done for if we stay down here another hour," he said. "Any argument on that?" There wasn't any. Joe Kivelson opened his eyes and looked around. "We haven't raised anything at all on the radio," Murell went on. "That means nobody's within an hour of reaching us. Am I right?"
Maybe if you shot one of them up we could see it." "Hey, that's an idea! Hans, have we another rocket with an explosive head?" Cronje said we had, and he and another man got it out and carried it from the boat. I repeated my question to Joe Kivelson. "No. Your Dad tried to call the Javelin by screen; that must have been after we abandoned ship. He didn't get an answer, and put out a general call.
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