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But, singularly, there was not one suggestion that the mystery might not be the work of blueskins. Blueskins were scapegoats for all the fears and all the uneasiness a perhaps over-civilized world developed. Presently the investigating space-boat reached the mystery ship and circled it, beaming queries. No answer. It reported the cargo-ship dark. No lights shone anywhere on or in it.
But he shook his head. He gave the cargo-ship detailed orders, receiving its space-boat and what food it had been able to bring. He sent it off to meet his fleet at Glamis. He stayed in orbit around the fourth planet to wait for a Mekinese fighting-ship. He began, too, to make long-range plans. Part Three
"In that case I'll go pilfer some provisions so the fleet will be prepared to do what you tell me it won't, but which it has to be prepared to do. I suppose I'll be back?" "I hope so," said Gwenlyn, smiling. She gave him her hand. He left. He shook his head as he made his way to the Sylva's space-boat blister. He had it immediately taken to his new ship.
"Better not," said Bors curtly, and mumbled thanks. He ordered the cargo-ship to send as much of its stores as the space-boat could conveniently carry. "Then how about some cigars?" asked Gwenlyn. She seemed at once amused and approving, because Bors would not indulge himself in a really satisfying meal while his crew lived on far from appetizing emergency foodstuffs. "No," said Bors.
"I agree," from the man who had been Powart's predecessor. Apparently these ten men had nearly dispensed with parlimentary rules. "What are the prospects, Powart?" "First rate. Runled's old space-boat has been renovated recently, and I understand that enough of the required materials have been mined to insure one round trip."
He'd fought in the battle off Kandar, he'd destroyed a Mekinese cruiser off Tralee, another in the Mekinese system itself and a squadron off Meriden. But he had never seen a Mekinese fighting-man face to face. Filled with such hatred as he felt, he meant to do so now. A space-boat came up from the ground. The Horus trained weapons on it.
It is an artificial structure, a small space-boat, and there are three creatures in it monstrosities certainly, but they must possess some intelligence or they could not be navigating space." "What? Impossible!" exclaimed the chief explorer. "Probably, then, the other was but no matter, we had to have the iron.
You need my Talents!" "I'm going to get moving as fast as I can," said Bors. "I don't think we can wait. If the Liberty's what I think, and her crew what I believe, they'll crave action." There was a space-boat at the flagship's lock. Bors and his uncle entered. Those already in the boat were young men in the nondescript clothing of ship-workers. They grinned proudly at Bors when he took his seat.
Into the boat with you!" He threw a switch and entered the boat. The blister opened. The small space-boat floated free. Its drive hummed and it drove far and away from the seemingly unharmed but completely helpless Isis. Bors looked regretfully back at the abandoned light cruiser. Sunlight glinted on its hull.
Bors painstakingly arranged for its occupants to board the Horus in space-suits, which could not conceal bombs. There were six men in the space-boat. They came into the Horus's control room and he saw that they were young, almost boys. When they learned that he was Captain Bors, they looked at him with shining, admiring, worshipping eyes. It could not be a trick. It could not be a trap.
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