The Star Lord
the diagram ofthe ship which hung on the wall. "Pile Ten is located just belowLifeboat C, and the radiation index of Boat C is getting a little high."
"That's bad. Well, keep shoving in the dampers, and keep me posted."
After they had gone, he sat for a while at his desk, studying the dataon the papers before him. He paced the room for a few minutes, thenpaused to pick up the little red volume of _Ley's Space Ships_. He hadno need to open it. It fell open of itself at the well-read page, andhis eyes rested for one rich moment on the words: _Captain: JosiahEvans_.
What name, he wondered, feeling almost physically sick withuncertainty, what name would be printed in the next edition?
* * * * *
The orchestra played melodiously at lunch time. The chef had produceddelicacies even more delectable than usual, and at each table thewaiters poured sparkling white wine into long-stemmed glasses, whilemurmuring softly, "Compliments of the Captain!"
"Is this a special occasion?" asked Tanya.
"Not that I know of, miss."
"Every meal feels like a special occasion," said Alan, "because I get totalk to you."
"Sh-h! Here come the Halls."
Tom and Dorothy flitted in to the table, hand in hand, still absorbed inthe wonder of being together, scarcely aware of the world about them,then left, without finishing their dessert. Alan and Tanya looked afterthem with affectionate amusement, but Professor Larrabee seemedwithdrawn and a little sad, as though they evoked memories of a time nowlost to him forever.
"They make me feel so _old_!" said Tanya.
"And lonely?"
"Perhaps, a little. They seem so sure, somehow, that all the rest oftheir lives will be just as happy as this, always."
"And why not?" said Professor Larrabee.
The orchestra swayed into a final soft chord, and immediately a voicespoke from a loudspeaker in the ceiling.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Conversation stopped, the room became quiet.
"Ladies and gentlemen. The customary lifeboat drill will be held thisafternoon at 1600 hours. The attendance of all passengers is requested."
The voice stopped, the orchestra resumed its playing, and the passengerssipped their coffee.
"I wonder why he said 'customary'?" said Tanya. "We've been out aboutthree weeks, and this will be the first drill we've had. Do you supposesomething is wrong?"
"I'm afraid your sense of the dramatic gets the better of you," saidAlan. "What could be wrong with the _Star Lord_?"
"Maybe her name," murmured Professor Larrabee, and his eyes lookedhaunted.
* * * * *
Solitary at his table, Burl Jasperson sipped at a glass of ice water ashe pondered. For the first time in his life he was not quite sure whatcourse to follow. He wanted that Blue Ribbon for the Star Line, andyet--he did not know what to do. While he listened to the announcementof the lifeboat drill, his lip twisted in contempt. Just like JosiahEvans, he thought, to be over-cautious and run the risk of starting apanic.
Still thinking, he left the dining room and went to the main lounge tostudy the illuminated map of the ship. The three-dimensional panoramashowed the slim and elegant body of the _Star Lord_, tapered like asilver spindle. Six small ships, three on each side of the long axis,each capable of carrying 250 people, were fastened into her hulk.Seemingly a part of the ship itself, their outer walls forming a part ofthe ship's wall, they were designed to be detached at the touch of abutton, and launched into space as free craft.
When the warning bells rang, he joined the crowd of passengers who wereassigned to Boat F, peered at the boat through the transparent panel,and listened attentively to the instructions. It was Steward Davis, henoted approvingly, who was in charge.
"Passengers will file in through the usual port and walk to the farthestunoccupied seat, and buckle themselves into place. They have nothingfurther to do. Crewmen will take care of the mechanics of detaching andlaunching the boat. You will note that there are no separate cabins,only rows of seats as in the primitive airplanes, but you will find thisno real discomfort, since the boat would undoubtedly be picked up aftera very short interval by some alerted space liner."
Jasperson raised his voice above the crowd's hum.
"What about provisioning? Are the boats stocked on Y-port?"
"No, Mr. Jasperson, except for food concentrates, and one air tank whichis placed there for the greater comfort of the crewmen who must go in toclean or to make minor adjustments. The boats are not fully provisioneduntil the need arises. After all, we don't want to invite trouble, dowe?"
People laughed appreciatively.
"No," he went on, "if there should be an emergency, we have speciallytrained crewmen whose job it is to stock reserves of air and water. Theywould go to work as automatically and efficiently as machines. Any otherquestions?"
Jasperson lingered after the indifferent crowd, to inspect the boat moreclosely, then slouched away.
* * * * *
All that afternoon he prowled the ship, trying to make up his mind. Hestopped now and then to question a business acquaintance, ask ajournalist his opinion, and he quizzed Larrabee again, more sharply thanbefore, about the hypothetical Ripples. He kept moving, and as he walkedhe calculated, bringing to bear all the power of a mind which hebelieved to be logical, and which his financial success had proved tobe keen and intelligent. All his life he had trusted his judgment, andit had rarely failed him--barring accidents like that unfair poker game.At last, as the hours went on, his decision crystallized. He had made uphis mind.
At dinner he drank champagne in addition to his usual ice water, andonly half heard the scraps of conversation in the dining room. There wasto be a special masquerade dance, he gathered. People around him wereexcitedly planning the improvisation of costumes. He would not gethimself up in any silly costume, he decided, but if his plans went well,he might look in later in the evening, on the chance to being allowed toglide over the waxed floor with the lovely Tanya.
After finishing his last drop of coffee he went directly to the cabin ofCaptain Evans, who had just begun to eat his simple dinner.
The Chairman of the board of directors pulled up a chair and sat down,without waiting to be asked.
"Look here, Josiah, I want to talk to you. I've been thinking. I'mafraid I was too brusque this morning. That's a bad habit of mine, and Iwant to apologize. But after all, we should not be quarreling, for yourinterests and mine are the same, as you surely realize."
Captain Evans pushed away his tray, lit a cigar, and puffed stolidly. "Irealize that I must consider the safety of my passengers, if that's whatyou mean."
"That's included, of course." Jasperson made his voice warm andpersuasive, the voice that had swayed boards of directors, the voicethat reassured hesitant bankers.
"Passenger safety is always paramount, of course, and I respect yourattitude there. But in this particular case, isn't it possible that youare being too cautious?"
"But Burl! Can the Captain of a ship _ever_ be too cautious? Think ofhis responsibility!"
"His responsibility is very great, and I would never advise you, norpermit you, to shirk yours. But sometimes caution may cease to be avirtue. Think about this caution of yours for a minute. Surely youbelieve that I would never urge you to do anything against the interestsof the ship, or against your own conscience? Now you have an excellentmind--logical, objective, clear. That was one reason we chose you forthis place. Try to consider, for a moment, the bare possibility thatyour decision to reduce speed may not have been justified."
* * * * *
Evans was silent, and finally Burl asked, "How far did we get today?"
"240 Light years."
"And if you decide to continue at that speed for five or six days, thatmeans we'll be approximately three days behind schedule in touchingAlmazin III?"
"About that."
"And that means we won't break t
he record. Now consider the reason forthis very unhappy situation. Think about it with an open mind. You haveone Pile heating--but has that never happened to a ship before, even innormal space? You and I both know it happens, and that ships have beenlost because of a defective Pile. Logically, why shouldn't this be justanother such case? You say it is caused by the Ripples, but as man toman, what objective evidence can you bring forward to prove theirexistence? I'm not trying to browbeat you, you understand, but just toask you to look at the matter carefully. You said yourself, thismorning, that you hadn't expected to be meeting the Ripples at thispoint--you had thought they occurred in a rather different area ofhyperspace. Couldn't that mean that they don't really exist, anywhere?"
Captain Evans wiped