Thompson's Cat

plotting a new course. Grant watched over hisshoulder.

  "Make this change," Thompson said.

  "But, Captain--" Grant protested. The man's face had gone utterly whiteas he realized the implications of this new course. "No. We can't dothat. It'll mean--"

  "I know what it will mean. And I'm in my right mind, I hope. This courseis a precaution, just in case nobody is left alive by the time we reachSol Cluster."

  "But--"

  "Make the change," Thompson ordered bluntly.

  Reluctantly Grant fed the new course into the computers. A throb wentthrough the vessel as the ship shifted in response.

  "We'll come out of hyper-flight in less than three hours," Grant spoke."Heaven help us if this course is not changed before that time."

  "If this course is not changed before that time, Heaven alone can helpus. From now on, you're not to leave this control room for an instant."

  "Yes, sir."

  With Buster following behind him, Thompson left the control room.

  "Yoooow!" The scream coming from the lounge this time was in a differentkey and had a different sound. But the meaning was the same as it hadbeen when Kurkil had screamed. Thompson went forward on the run.

  The victim was Ross. Like Kurkil, he was tearing his clothes off. LikeKurkil, he was turning green. When he went down, he did not rise again.

  As he stood staring down at Ross, Thompson had the vague impression ofwhirring wings passing near him. Whispering wings, as if a soul weretaking flight.

  From the engine room Neff appeared. "I heard somebody scream over theintercom. Oh, I see." His face worked, his jaws moved as if he wastrying to speak. But no sound came.

  Fortune emerged from his quarters to look down at Ross. "Our fumigatingdidn't work, huh?"

  "Maybe he caught the bug on the planet," Thompson said. He tried to putconviction into his voice. The effort failed. "Get sheets," he said.

  * * * * *

  There was no prayer. There was no burial ceremony. The body went throughthe ejection port and disappeared in the vast depths of space.

  Thompson returned to his cabin, slumped down at his desk, Fortune andNeff following.

  Buster meowed. "Okay, pal." The cat jumped into Thompson's lap.

  "I guess there's not much point in trying to kid ourselves any longer,"Fortune said. His voice was dull and flat, without tone and withoutspirit. A muscle in Neff's cheek was twitching.

  "I don't understand you," Thompson said.

  "Hell, you understand me well enough. The facts are obvious. We'veeither all got the virus, or it's here in the ship, and we will get it.All we're doing is waiting to see who goes next. What I want to knowis--Who'll shove the last man through the ejection port?"

  "I don't know," Thompson answered.

  "Isn't there anything else we can do?" The tic in Neff's cheek wasbecoming more pronounced.

  "If there is, I don't know--What the hell, Buster?" The cat which hadbeen lying in his lap, suddenly leaped to the floor. Tail extended,crouched, eyes alert, the cat seemed to be trying to follow the flightof something through the air above him.

  Very vaguely, very dimly, Thompson caught the rustle of wings.

  The actions of the cat, and the sound, sent a wave of utter cold washingover his body.

  Before he could move, the cat leaped upward, caught something insnapping jaws.

  In the same split second Thompson moved. Before Buster had had time toswallow, Thompson had caught him behind the jaws, forcing them shut. Onhis desk was a bell jar. He lifted it, thrust the cat's head under it,forced his thumb and forefinger against the jaws of the cat.

  The outraged Buster disgorged something. Thompson jerked the cat's headfrom under the jar, slammed down the rim. The angry cat snarled at him.Neff and Fortune were staring at him from eyes that indicated theythought he had lost his senses. Thompson paid them no attention. He wastoo busy watching something inside the bell jar even to notice that theyexisted.

  He could not see the creature under the jar.

  He knew it could fly but he did not know its shape or size. He couldhear it hitting the falls of the jar. And each time it hit the wall, atiny greenish smudge appeared at the point of impact.

  "What--what the hell have you got there?" Neff whispered.

  "I don't know for sure. But I think I've got the carrier of the virus."

  "What?"

  "Watch."

  "I can't see anything."

  "Nor can I yet, but I can hear it and I can see the places where it hitsthe wall of the jar. There's something under the jar. Something thatBuster has been seeing all along."

  "What?"

  Thompson pointed at the jar. "One or several of those things came intothe ship when the lock was open. We couldn't see them, didn't know theyexisted. But Buster saw them. He caught one of them in this cabin soonafter we took off. I thought he was playing a game to amuse himself,or--" He broke off. From the back of his mind came a fragment ofhistory, now in the forgotten Dark Ages of Earth, whole populations hadbeen ravaged and destroyed by a fever that was carried by some kind ofan insect. Did they have some kind of an insect under his jar?

  Holding his breath, Thompson watched.

  The pounding against the walls of the jar was growing weaker. Then itstopped. On the desk top, a smudge appeared. Wings quavered there, wingsthat shifted through a range of rainbow colors as they became visible.

  As the flutter of the wings stopped the whole creature became visible.Made up of some kind of exceedingly thin tissue that was hardly visible,it was about as big as a humming bird.

  Silence held the room. Thompson was aware of his eyes coming to focus onthe long pointed bill of the creature.

  "Alive it was not visible at all," Fortune whispered. "Dead, you can seeit." His voice lifted, picked up overtones of terror. "Say an hour or soago Ross was complaining that something had bit him."

  Like the last remnant of a picture puzzle fitting together, somethingclicked in Thompson's mind. "And Kurkil. While we were out of the shipsomething bit him."

  Silence again. His eyes went from Neff to Fortune. "Did--"

  They shook their heads.

  "Then that ties up the package," Thompson whispered. "This creaturecarried the virus, or poison, or whatever it was. Without being bitten,the virus cannot spread. We've found the cause. We've got it licked."

  He was aware of sweat appearing on his face, the sweat of pure relief.He sank back into his chair. Buster, recovering from his indignity atthe outrage he had suffered, jumped to the top of the desk, settled downwith his nose against the glass, watching the dead creature inside thebell jar.

  "He caught one of those things right in this cabin," Thompson whispered.A shudder passed over him and was gone. He had been so close to death,and had not known it. Buster had saved him.

  Instead of seeking protection from him, the cat, in a sense, had beenprotecting him. His gaze centered fondly on the cat.

  "What if there are more of those things in the ship?" Fortune spoke.

  "We can solve that one," Thompson spoke. "Space suits. And, now that weknow what we're looking for, we can clean out the ship. If we don't,Buster will do it for us."

  "Space suits!" As if he had heard no more than those two words, Fortuneran from the room. He returned with three suits. They hastily donnedthem.

  "No damned bug can bite through one of these things," Neff saidexultantly. "Say, what about Grant? Hadn't we better take him a suittoo?"

  "I should say so. Fortune...." But Fortune was already leaving the roomon his errand. Thompson snapped open the intercom system. "Grant?"

  "Yes, what is it?"

  "We've found the cause and we've got the disease licked."

  Grant's voice a shout coming back from the control room. "Thank God.I've been sitting here watching Sol grow bigger and bigger...." Hisvoice suddenly choked, went into silence, then came again, asking aquestion. "Is it all right to change course now?"

  "Definitely it's all rig
ht," Thompson answered. "In fact, it's anorder."

  An instant later, the ship groaned as the direction of flight wasshifted. Thompson took a deep breath, was aware that Neff was staring athim. "What was that he said about watching Sol grow bigger and bigger?Say, what course were we on?"

  "Collision course with the sun," Thompson answered.

  "What?" Neff gasped. "Do you mean to say that you were going to throwthe ship into the sun?"

  Slowly Thompson nodded. "I didn't know whether we would be alive or notbut I didn't want this ship to enter Sol Cluster