by Jean Sutton
"You were together?"
"Yes, sir."
"What doing?"
"Well, I -- " He floundered, struggling for words.
"Speak up," York ordered sharply.
Gordon brought his head up. "We were playing a game."
"Krabacci?"
"No, sir, gambling," one of the other men said. He looked directly at York. "My name's Jack Ival, armament apprentice."
"Thank you, Ival." York nodded. "What did you do?"
"The gas didn't seem to strike so fast," Ival said. "We caught a whiff of it, and I yelled for the masks. Then we all made a break for the lander."
"The lander?" York raised his voice.
"Number two starboard lander," explained Ival. "It's docked just off the crew's galley. Someone -- I guess maybe it was me -- remembered that the landers are equipped with masks. Number two was nearer than the lockers."
"That makes sense."
"Aside from that, we could shut it off from the rest of the ship, at least until we knew what was happening."
York nodded understandingly. "You said the gas didn't come in so fast?"
"We caught just a whiff at first. I realized what was happening when my lungs began to burn."
"What happened next?"
"We sealed off the lander and broke out the masks. Then I got on the communicator to sound an alert. I couldn't raise anyone," he ended.
"So you stayed in the lander?"
"No, sir, I slipped out and made a break for the port laser compartment. That's my duty station."
"Go on," York said.
"I passed a lot of men who looked dead, and that was the way I found things in the laser compartment," Ival continued. "I tried to contact the hospital, couldn't get an answer, and was starting toward the officers' quarters when I ran into Gordon. After that we met Poy and Chun and helped them in the search."
"That leaves you two," York said, looking at Mason and Bagby.
"Yes, sir," one of them answered.
"Your name?"
"Carl Mason, apprentice cook."
"What did you do after Ival and Gordon left?"
"Went back to the galley. That's my duty station. So did Joe. We stayed together."
"Joe Bagby?"
"Yes, sir, I'm also a cook apprentice," Bagby put in. He started to add something but changed his mind.
"Keep talking," York instructed.
"Well, later I got wondering why the gas was so much worse outside and started looking around -- "
"Worse outside the galley?" York interrupted.
"Yes, sir, it seemed to come into the galley a lot more slowly. When I found out that most of the others were dead, I got curious. That's when I started searching."
"And you found -- ?" York waited expectantly.
"The galley air vents were shut."
"Shut?"
"Yes, sir, you can do it manually from the inside."
"Do you often shut them?"
Bagby shook his head. "I never have."
"Mason?"
"I shut them before the game," Mason explained lamely. "It keeps the voices from traveling."
York said grimly, "You seem to have chosen a fortunate time, Mason."
"Yes, sir."
York looked back at Barngate, letting his eyes dwell on him for several minutes before asking, "When did you set the course for Bonoplane?"
"Almost immediately after coming out of hypertime," he explained.
"Why not Skyro, or did you mention that?"
"Yes, I did." A cloud shadowed Barngate's eyes. "That's right, I believe you said Skyro was on the opposite leg of its orbit."
"That is correct."
"How long did it take you to reach Bonoplane?"
"A trifle over five days." A note of caution crept into the quartermaster's voice. "You can't chance coming out too close."
"No, you can't," York agreed. "Were you on the bridge all that time?"
Barngate shook his head. "I broke it into two watches. I stood one with Jarrett; Chun stood the other with Hing Poy."
York saw a frown cross Hull's face and asked, "Any particular reason for that selection?"
"Chun was the next senior petty officer present," Barngate explained.
"Very good," York assented. "What were the others doing?"
"I had the other men move the dead into the after compartments, both to improve our living conditions and to expedite future burial," answered Barngate.
"An unpleasant job but a necessary one," York commented. "As I understand it, you and Shumway had the bridge half the time, and Chun and Poy the other half."
"That is correct."
"All during that time?"
"Until the last day," Barngate affirmed.
"What happened on the last day?"
"I began to realize that I couldn't land the Rigel by myself," Barngate explained. "That's quite a technical operation. When we reached Bonoplane's orbit, I ordered Gordon, Ival, Mason and Bagby to abandon ship in one of the landers."
"Why that selection?"
"Gordon's an engine technician, knew how to handle the lander. The others didn't."
"And then?"
"Chun and Poy left next, probably an hour or so later. Chun can handle a lander."
"That left you and Shumway aboard, right?"
"For a few hours," Barngate assented. "I'd hoped to land the ship but changed my mind."
"Why?"
"She wasn't responding right, or at least I couldn't make her respond right, not with the lack of the engine crew. I had the feeling that she was ready to go out of control."
"So you and Shumway abandoned her?"
Barngate shook his head. "I brought her into reentry first and set the controls for a steady, low-speed letdown. We didn't abandon her until the last possible moment. It was the best we could do, Mr. York."
"At any time did you go down into the bomb well? I'm speaking of the N-bomb compartment."
"No, sir, that's not permitted," Barngate replied sharply.
"Shumway?"
"Didn't get near it," Shumway answered defensively.
"I ordered everyone to stay away from it," explained Barngate.
"And you're certain they did?"
"On my watch, yes."
"How about you?" York asked, switching his gaze to the Alphans.
"Neither of us went down," Chun answered evenly.
"At any time did you hear any strange sounds?"
"No, sir."
"You asked that before," Barngate snapped testily.
"I'm trying to refresh my memory."
"What kind of sounds?"
"Explosions, anything that might indicate trouble."
"Not a thing."
"Shumway?" York snapped.
"Nothing," Shumway said sullenly.
"Hing Poy?"
"Nothing, Mr. York."
"Did any of the rest of you hear anything?"
When no one answered, Barngate said, "Perhaps if you'd give us a clue to what you're after -- "
"I'm just trying to ascertain what did go wrong."
"Well, the gas..." The chief shrugged.
York looked slowly around the assemblage, letting his gaze rest on Hull's troubled face before he continued. "Perhaps I should reintroduce myself. I am here not only as a representative of the Admiral of the Galactic Seas, but I am here as an agent of Empire Intelligence. That latter, incidentally, is my major job."
"Empire Intelligence," someone murmured.
"Empire Intelligence." York nodded. He shot a look along the table. Bagby's mouth hung agape; so did Mason's. Gordon had lifted his head in shocked surprise; Ival and Wooten appeared to have taken the announcement in stride. They watched him steadily. Lee Chun and Hing Poy appeared as inscrutable as ever, except perhaps for their sharpened gaze. Shumway scowled at his hands. Barngate sat straighter, his eyes weighing.
York conti
nued, "I am here on a case of murder."
"Murder?" Barngate snapped.
"The murder of one hundred and thirty-five men," York stated calmly. "They were murdered, weren't they?"
"Murder," Barngate repeated. He clenched his hands and gazed around.
York saw expressions of shocked incredulity and disbelief, the stunned look on George Wooten's face. Ival jutted his jaw tightly, staring ahead.
"Needless to say, the murderer is sitting among us, or perhaps I should say murderers," York continued. His eyes riveted on the Alphans. "Wouldn't you say so, Chun?"
"I don't know." Chun breathed slowly. "I'd thought it was an accident."
"But a strange gas, eh?"
"That puzzled me," Chun admitted.
"How about you, Shumway?"
"How should I know?" he growled without looking up.
"Wooten?"
"It's plausible, sir."
"Chief?"
"Yes, I can see it," Barngate agreed heavily. "I hadn't thought so before, but I can see it."
"See what?"
"That it must have been murder -- murder and sabotage."
"Well, we seem to agree on that." York glanced casually around, feeling the tension in the room. Everyone was sitting on edge, scarcely breathing. He glanced at Hull. The captain's eyes were watchful, his face expectant. Tregaski looked as if he were ready to spring. Benbow had pursed his lips, waiting.
York continued, "It's just a matter of naming the killers."
Barngate turned his head slowly, gazing first at Chun and then at Hing Poy. "Our good Alphans," he grated.
"Why Alphans?" asked York.
"Everyone knows that Li-Hu's been plotting."
"Do they?"
"We've heard rumors," Barngate confirmed. "The captain was discussing it with the navigator one day on the bridge."
"I'll have to agree with you, Chief. Li-Hu's been plotting," York said, "and out of it the Empire has lost one N-cruiser and one hundred and thirty-five men."
"They'll pay," George Wooten said in a clear voice.
"Yes, they'll pay."
"Hing Poy was in the air-distribution room," a voice exclaimed querulously. York glanced up sharply and saw that it was Gordon.
"Not till after the gas hit," Wooten rebuked.
"Shumway was there also," Ival cut in calmly. "As far as I'm concerned, Lee Chun and Hing Poy are citizens of the Empire as much as anyone." He gazed contemptuously at the chief.
"This is really preamble," York said slowly. "I know the killers."
Hull came half out of his seat. "Name them," he spat.
"Albert Barngate and Jarrett Shumway are your killers, Captain."
"You're crazy," snarled Shumway. Barngate said nothing but stared at him with fixed intensity. His jaw muscles worked furiously. The others appeared stunned, shocked by the enormity of the charge.
York said softly, "You made a number of mistakes, Chief."
"Name them," Hull snapped.
York swung toward him, aware of the tension in the room. He could almost feel it running through him like an electric current. "Gelhart's planets are forgotten worlds," he declared. "Galton said they probably haven't been charted in a thousand years; there's been no need to."
"Go on," Hull instructed.
"How long did it take Galton to determine the orbital positions of Skyro and Bonoplane?" he asked. "Many hours, but Barngate determined that immediately. Is he a better navigator than Galton? I'd guess not. He knew their positions exactly because he'd already charted them. There's no other answer."
"Jarrett's right," Barngate broke in icily, "you're crazy."
"Perhaps, but that doesn't explain your knowledge of Skyro's location, or Bonoplane's, either."
"Is that the sum of your proof?" asked Hull curiously.
"Point one," returned York. "Point two is that none of you heard the noise of an explosion, but there was an explosion -- the explosion when the door of the N-bomb chamber was blasted open. You know why no one else heard it, Barngate?" As the chief continued to stare at him, he went on. "Because no one else was aboard. No one but you and Jarrett."
"You can't make that stick," snarled Shumway.
"By your own admission, only four of you were on the bridge," York snapped back. "If Chun and Hing Poy had blasted it, you would have heard it."
"You don't know what you're talking about," gritted Shumway.
"You couldn't blast it while the others were aboard," York continued. "That's why Barngate ordered them to abandon the Rigel first and why you and Barngate remained aboard for such a long time. It's also why you crashed the Rigel -- an attempt to conceal the blast. But you couldn't afford to destroy it completely; you were dependent on it for food and supplies. You didn't know how long you might be stranded."
Barngate straightened, seeming to regain his composure. "Guesswork," he said calmly.
"I prefer to call it logic," York answered. "However, it will all come out under therapy, because that's where you're going, both of you -- right into August Karsh's therapy room."
"I believe you're wrong, Mr. York."
York spun around at the sound of the voice. Jona Norden, the Draco's maintenance chief, stood just inside the door, a blaster cradled in his hand. He held it nonchalantly pointed toward Tregaski, who had sprung from his chair.
"Sit down," Norden hissed softly. The flashing smile still marked his slender face, but his eyes didn't smile; they were cold as death.
As Tregaski hesitated, Hull said calmly, "Sit down, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir," Tregaski answered stiffly. He subsided slowly into his seat, his eyes riveted on Norden.
"Ah, that's better." As Norden moved farther into the room, David Apgar, the half-breed deckhand, stepped through the doorway. His blaster appeared equally big.
"Now, as you were saying..." Norden moved his eyes to York, waiting.
13
"VERY GOOD, Commander." Albert Barngate rose from the mess table and nodded approvingly as he moved to join Norden. Shumway lurched from his seat more slowly.
"Commander?" Hull rose, his face flushed with anger. "What nonsense is that?"
"No nonsense," Norden answered easily. He reached inside his jacket and brought forth another blaster, handing it to Barngate before continuing. "I happen to be a commander in the navy of Prince Li-Hu."
"You're crazy," Tregaski bellowed. "Li-Hu's got no navy."
"But a very fine fleet of interstellar liners, each built for immediate conversion into a cruiser of the line," Norden put in. "I might also add that they are well armed. And now with your precious bomb secret -- "
"Bomb secret!" Hull ejaculated.
York waved him to silence, eyeing Norden stonily. "If you have the secret, you'll never carry it back."
"We have it," Barngate interjected, "and we will carry it back."
In the silence that followed, York studied Norden and Apgar curiously. The latter wore a foolish smile that told him he was little more than a pawn in the power game being played. But not Norden. His flashing smile was deadly.
York riveted his eyes on the latter and said, "So you've been a traitor all the while."
"Traitor?" Norden contemplated the word. Returning York's gaze unflinchingly, he said, "A man is true to his empire, and mine is the empire of Prince Li-Hu. I was born on Yenchi, fourth of the Alphan sun Kang."
"Traitors and killers," York said quietly.
"Killers?" Barngate leaped forward angrily and slashed the agent across the face with his blaster, sending him reeling backward. "You are speaking to a man with the rank of captain, and don't you forget it," he roared.
York straightened slowly and brushed his cheek, staring at the blood on his hand before looking at Norden. "You can't deny that you tried to kill me," he charged.
"Unfortunately I can't take the credit," Norden denied. He winked at Apgar. "Dave was a bit pressed for time."
The
deckhand grinned. "I was working under a handicap."
"You won't get away with it," York warned.
"Won't?" Norden laughed mirthlessly.
"He's right, you won't," Hull broke in. Disregarding York's gesture to silence, he continued. "Myron Terle's been captured. You didn't expect that, did you?"
"Myron Terle?" Barngate arched his eyebrows.
"Captured," Hull repeated, "and Grydo's sealed off. You're trapped, all of you. The best thing you can do is surrender."
"He's crazy," Shumway snarled. "What does he mean, that about Terle and Grydo? I never heard of them."
"He means you can't get the bomb secret back to Li-Hu," York broke in.
"And why not?" Barngate laughed nastily.
"Because the Alphan worlds, every Alphan world, is blockaded by the Empire's Navy," he returned coolly.
"So?" Barngate raised his eyes.
"Don't you believe the prince anticipated that?" interrupted Norden. "It just so happens that he has an interstellar ship waiting in deep space, coordinates unknown -- except to us," he added.
"You'll wind up under the atomizer," snapped Hull.
"Let me handle this," York cut in. He stared coldly at Norden. "You couldn't manage a deep-space rendezvous, not without a first-rate navigator, which you haven't got. If you had one, you wouldn't have landed the Rigel on Bonoplane."
Norden laughed, enjoying himself. "You don't understand the intricacies of the plot," he said. "The Draco's supplying the navigator, a graduate of the Wansu school. I fancy we won't have difficulty on that score."
"Another traitor," rasped Hull.
"Another Alphan loyal to his prince," Norden corrected.
"I'd thought it would be Barngate," York reflected.
"I can't claim the honor," Barngate answered. "My navigation is very modest, although quite sufficient to locate a planet. Essentially, you see, I'm an intelligence officer."
"Intelligence officer?" York arched his brows.
"Correct." Barngate's eyes drilled into him. "You're supposed to be an E.I. agent, York. Small wonder we won so easily. Can't August Karsh do better than that?"
"You're not off the Draco yet," York warned. He shot a glance at Benbow, praying that he had fulfilled his role. The doctor's face, cold and stiff, told him nothing. If Benbow had failed, or Osborn...He suppressed a quiet shudder.
"Enough of the talk," snapped Barngate. "Let's get on with the job."