by Keith Laumer
Fine and Taylor hesitated, then joined them.Kramer started to shout after them, then got hold of himself. The liftmoved down.
Kramer thought about going for his needler. I looked at him throughnarrowed eyes. He decided to rely on his mouth, as usual. He licked hislips. "All right, I'm under arrest," he said. "But as Medical Officer ofthis vessel it's my duty to remind you that you can't live without acertain minimum of fresh organic food. We've got to start back now." Hewas pale, but determined. He couldn't bear the thought of getting baldand toothless from dietary deficiency. The girls would never give himanother look.
"We're going on, Kramer," I said. "As long as we have a man aboard stillable to move. Teeth or no teeth."
"Deficiency disease is no joke, Captain," Kramer said. "You can get allthe symptoms of leprosy, cancer and syphilis just by skipping a fewnecessary elements in your diet. And we're missing most of them."
"Giving me your opinions is one thing, Kramer," I said. "Mutiny isanother."
Clay stood beside the main screen, wide-eyed. I couldn't send Kramerdown under his guard. "Let's go, Kramer," I said. "I'm locking you upmyself."
We rode down in the lift. The men who had been with Kramer stoodawkwardly, silent as we stepped out into the passage. I spotted twochronic trouble-makers among them. I thought I might as well call themnow as later. "Williams and Nagle," I said, "this officer is underarrest. Escort him to his quarters and lock him in." As they steppedforward hesitantly, Kramer said, "Keep your filthy hooks off me." Hestarted down the passage.
* * * * *
If I could get Kramer put away before anybody else started trouble, Imight be able to bluff it through. I followed him and his two sheepishguards down past the power section, and the mess. I hoped there would beno crowd there to see their hero Kramer under guard.
I was out of luck. Apparently word had gone out of Kramer's arrest, andthe corridor was clogged with men. They stood unmoving as we approached.Kramer stopped.
"Clear this passage, you men," I said.
Slowly they began to move back, giving ground reluctantly.
Suddenly Kramer shouted. "That's right, you whiners and complainers,clear the way so the Captain can take me back to the missile deck andshoot me. You just want to talk about home; you haven't got the guts todo anything about it."
The moving mass halted, milled. Someone shouted, "Who's he think he is,anyway."
Kramer whirled toward me. "He thinks he's the man who's going to let youall rot alive, to save his record."
"Williams, Nagle," I said loudly, "clear this passage."
* * * * *
Williams started half-heartedly to shove at the men nearest him. A fistflashed out and snapped his head back. That was a mistake; Williamspulled his needler, and fired a ricochet down the passage.
"'Bout twelve a you yellow-bellies git outa my way," he yelled. "I'mcomin' through."
Nagle moved close to Williams, and shouted something to him. The noisedrowned it. Kramer swung back to me, frantic to regain his sway over themob.
"Once I'm out of the way, there'll be a general purge," he roared. Thehubbub faded, as men turned to hear him.
"You're all marked men. He's gone mad. He won't let one of you live."Kramer had their eyes now. "Take him now," he shouted, and seized my armto begin the action.
He'd rushed it a little. I hit him across the face with the back of myhand. No one jumped to his assistance. I drew my 2mm. "If you ever lay ahand on your Commanding Officer again, I'll burn you where you stand,Kramer."
Then a voice came from behind me. "You're not killing anybody without atrial, Captain." Joyce stood there with two of the crew chiefs, needlerin hand. Fine and Taylor were not in sight.
I pushed Kramer out of my way and walked up to Joyce.
"Hand me that weapon, Junior, butt first," I said. I looked him in theeye with all the glare I had. He stepped back a pace.
"Why don't you jump him," he called to the crowd.
The wall annunciator hummed and spoke.
"Captain Greylorn, please report to the bridge. Unidentified body onmain scope."
Every man stopped in his tracks, listening. The annunciator continued."Looks like it's decelerating, Captain."
I holstered my pistol, pushed past Joyce, and trotted for the lift. Themob behind me broke up, talking, as men under long habit ran for actionstations.
Clay was operating calmly under pressure. He sat at the main screen, andstudied the blip, making tiny crayon marks.
"She's too far out for a reliable scanner track, Captain," he said, "butI'm pretty sure she's braking."
If that were true, this might be the break we'd been living for. Onlymanned or controlled bodies decelerated in deep space.
"How did you spot it, Clay?" I asked. Picking up a tiny mass like thiswas a delicate job, even when you knew its coordinates.
"Just happened to catch my eye, Captain," he said. "I always make ageneral check every watch of the whole forward quadrant. I noticed ablip where I didn't remember seeing one before."
"You have quite an eye, Clay," I said. "How about getting this object inthe beam."
"We're trying now, Captain," he said. "That's a mighty small field,though."
Joyce called from the radar board, "I think I'm getting an echo at15,000, sir. It's pretty weak."
Miller, quiet and meticulous, delicately tuned the beam control. "Giveme your fix, Joyce," he said. "I can't find it."
Joyce called out his figures, in seconds of arc to three places.
"You're right on it, Joyce," Miller called a minute later. "I got it.Now pray it don't get away when I boost it."
Clay stepped over behind Miller. "Take it a few mags at a time," he saidcalmly.
I watched Miller's screen. A tiny point near the center of the screenswelled to a spec, and jumped nearly off the screen to the left. Millercentered it again, and switched to a higher power. This time it jumpedless, and resolved into two tiny dots.
* * * * *
Step by step the magnification was increased as ring after ring of thelens antenna was thrown into play. Each time the centering operation wasmore delicate. The image grew until it filled a quarter of the screen.We stared at it in fascination.
It showed up in stark silhouette, in the electronic "light" of the radarscope. Two perfect discs, joined by a fine filament. As we watched,their relative positions slowly shifted, one moving across, halfoccluding the other.
As the image drifted, Miller worked with infinite care at his console tohold it on center, in sharp focus.
"Wish you'd give me an orbit on this thing, Joyce," he said, "so I couldlock onto it."
"It ain't got no orbit, man," Joyce said. "I'm trackin' it, but I don'tunderstand it. That rock is on a closing curve with us, and slowin' downfast."
"What's the velocity, Joyce?" I asked.
"Averagin' about 1,000 relative, Captain, but slowin' fast."
"All right, we'll hold our course," I said.
I keyed for a general announcement.
"This is the Captain," I said. "General Quarters. Man action stationsand prepare for possible contact within one hour."
"Missile Section. Arm No. 1 Battery and stand by."
Then I added, "We don't know what we've got here, but it's not a naturalbody. Could be anything from a torpedo on up."
I went back to the Beam screen. The image was clear, but without detail.The two discs slowly drew apart, then closed again.
"I'd guess that movement is due to rotation of two spheres around acommon center," Clay said.
"I agree with you," I said. "Try to get me a reading on the mass of theobject."
I wondered whether Kramer had been locked up as I had ordered, but atthis moment it seemed unimportant. If this was, as I hoped, a contactwith our colony, all our troubles were over.
The object (I hesitated to call it a ship) approached steadily, stilldecelerating. Now Clay picked it up on the t
elevideo, as it paralleledour course forty-five hundred miles out.
"Captain, it's my guess the body will match speeds with us at about 200miles, at his present rate of deceleration," Clay said.
"Hold everything you've got on him, and watch closely for anything thatmight be a missile," I said.
* * * * *
Clay worked steadily over his chart table. Finally he turned to