Page 5 of Derelict

snapped in Sabo's mind, then. With a roar, he lunged at thecaptain's feet, screaming his bitterness and rage and frustration,catching the old man's calves with his powerful shoulders. The captaintoppled, and Sabo was fighting for the power gun, straining with all hismight to twist the gun from the thin hand, and he heard his voiceshouting, "Run! _Go, Brownie, make it go!_"

  The lock was open, and he saw Brownie's sled nose out into theblackness. The captain choked, his face purple. "Get him! Don't let himget away!"

  The lock clanged, and the screens showed the tiny fragile sled jet outfrom the side of the Station, the small huddled figure clinging to it,heading straight for the open port of the gray ship. "Stop him! Theguns, you fools, the guns!"

  The alarm still clanged, and the control room was a flurry of activity.Three men snapped down behind the tracer-guns, firing without aiming, ina frenzied attempt to catch the fleeing sled. The sled beganzig-zagging, twisting wildly as the shells popped on either side of it.The captain twisted away from Sabo's grip with a roar, and threw one ofthe crewmen to the deck, wrenching the gun controls from his hands. "Getthe big ones on the ship! Blast it! If it gets away you'll all pay."

  Suddenly the sled popped into the ship's port, and the hatch slowlyclosed behind it. Raving, the captain turned the gun on the sleek,polished hull plates, pressed the firing levels on the war-head servos.Three of them shot out from the Satellite, like deadly bugs, careeningthrough the intervening space, until one of them struck the side of thegray ship, and exploded in purple fury against the impervious hull. Andthe others nosed into the flame, and passed on through, strikingnothing.

  Like the blinking of a light, the alien ship had throbbed, and jerked,and was gone.

  With a roar the captain brought his fist down on the hard plastic andmetal of the control panel, kicked at the sheet of knobs and levers witha heavy foot, his face purple with rage. His whole body shook as heturned on Sabo, his eyes wild. "You let him get away! It was your fault,yours! But _you_ won't get away! I've got you, and you'll pay, do youhear that?" He pulled himself up until his face was bare inches fromSabo's, his teeth bared in a frenzy of hatred. "Now we'll see who'lllaugh, my friend. You'll laugh in the death chamber, if you can stilllaugh by then!" He turned to the men around him. "Take him," he snarled."Lock him in his quarters, and guard him well. And while you're doingit, take a good look at him. See how he laughs now."

  They marched him down to his cabin, stunned, still wondering what hadhappened. Something had gone in his mind in that second, something thattold him that the choice had to be made, instantly. Because he knew,with dull wonder, that in that instant when the lights went on he couldhave stopped Brownie, could have saved himself. He could have taken forhimself a piece of the glory and promotion due to the discoverers of anInterstellar drive. But he had also known, somehow, in that shortinstant, that the only hope in the world lay in that one nervous,frightened man, and the ship which could take him away.

  And the ship was gone. That meant the captain was through. He'd had hischance, the ship's coming had given him his chance, and he had muffedit. Now he, too, would pay. The Government would not be pleased thatsuch a ship had leaked through his fingers. Captain Loomis was through.

  And him? Somehow, it didn't seem to matter any more. He had made a stabat it, he had tried. He just hadn't had the luck. But he knew there wasmore to that. Something in his mind was singing, some deep feeling ofhappiness and hope had crept into his mind, and he couldn't worry abouthimself any more. There was nothing more for him; they had him cold. Butdeep in his mind he felt a curious satisfaction, transcending any fearand bitterness. Deep in his heart, he knew that _one_ man had escaped.

  And then he sat back and laughed.

  THE END

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _If: Worlds of Science Fiction_ May 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.

 
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