"You mean he agreed to the destruction of the colony?"
"Didn't your
"That's different—I'm your daughter."
"Then you should be smart enough to know that conscience takes a back seat when those kinds of stakes are involved."
"He couldn't have kept it from me," she said.
"Do you really think your knight in shining armor would dream of telling such dreadful truths to his beloved and innocent little wife?" Niebohr said. "Especially after I'd sworn him to secrecy?"
"I don't like the idea of his deceiving me, even if he was trying to spare my feelings," she said sulkily.
Niebohr chuckled. "You've kept one or two things from him fairly successfully in your time."
"Pig!" she said, sliding off the edge of the desk and alighting on the floor. "That's a different thing altogether. A girl's got to have some hobbies."
He grinned. "You mean you've found another?"
"Oh, there's no bloody sense in you this morning," she snapped. "What the hell are you so self-satisfied about?"
"All in good time, baby—all in good time."
"That does it!" she said, turning and walking quickly towards the door of the room.
"Baby!" he called.
She turned her head sharply, looking at him over her shoulder. "Yes?"
"Just trust Poppa—and if you're not too busy try to catch tonight's Voice of the Planets program."
"That public relations crap?" she said disgustedly.
"Steel yourself just this once," he said. "I think you'll find it worthwhile."
Tom Bruce threw the report onto Helen Lindstrom's desk with a gesture of disgust. "What the hell's happening here?" he demanded angrily. "Fifteen crewmen on sick report and four on charges ranging from drunkenness to insubordination."
Helen Lindstrom sighed. "Quite frankly, Tom, the sooner we get Vee Twelve out into space again the happier I'll be. We've been grounded here over a week, and I can only keep the crew occupied by inventing maintenance jobs that they've done a dozen times already. You know very well what that kind of meaningless activity can do to morale. We're on Earth, but not on leave. That's the trouble."
"We're running a Corps ship here,"not an entertainment center," Bruce said.
"You mean I'm running a ship, don't you?" Helen . said. "You're too busy playing detective over this Orphelin Three business and Prince to take any real notice of what's happening aboard Vee Twelve."
He ceased his angry pacing and looked down at her, realizing that there was some justification in her reproach. "All right—what do you suggest?"
"Well, at least let me prepare some kind of leave roster. That will give them something to look forward to."
"No—that's impossible. Nobody is to leave base until the President has made his statement about Orphelin Three. We can't run the risk of there being a premature leak."
"I can understand that," Helen said. "But how much longer can he possibly sit on the thing? Surely the media will soon start to get curious?"
"Hell keep them quiet," Bruce said. "In the meantime—" He broke off as the vid on Helen's desk beeped.
"Lieutenant Commander Lindstrom here," she said, flicking the switch. "Yes, he's right here. Hold on." She looked up at Bruce. "It's for you." She vacated the chair as Bruce moved hurriedly around to the other side of the desk and recognized the face of Delgado in the screen.
"Yes?" he said eagerly.
"We found Wernher," said the security man.
"You did? That's fine!" Bruce's spirits lifted. "Have you got him there? When can I talk to him?"
"We don't have him," Delgado said. "And I'm afraid you won't get to talk to him."
"What do you mean?"
"He's in the Second-Level Morgue out at Malton," explained Delgado. "The police found him floating in an ornamental lake early this morning with the back of his head smashed in. They diagnosed a mugging. I haven't disillusioned them."
"Niebohr?" Bruce said.
Delgado shrugged. "Who else? Poppa doesn't believe in nursing liabilities. Wernher had done all that was required of him, and he knew too much."
"Do you think there's any chance of proving a connection?"
"With Poppa Niebohr? Commander, you've just got to be joking. Any other leads you want us to follow up?"
Bruce shook his head. "Not at the moment. I'll be in touch if anything comes up."
"You do that, Commander," Delgado said. "Sorry we couldn't be more help."
Bruce switched off and looked up at Helen, who was standing watching him. "You heard?"
"No more than I expected," she said. "Look, Tom, why don't you just give up? MacGuinness dead, Wernher dead—I'd say it was ninety-five percent certain that Bob Prince must have gone the same way, most probably at the hands of Wernher. And whatever you do isn't going to change that."
"Maybe not, but at least I might be able to make sure that his reputation comes out of this thing in one piece."
"That will be a big consolation to him—and his dear widow."
"Elsa. . .that bitch!" growled Bruce. "How could she let Niebohr do that to her own husband?"
"How do you know she did?" Helen asked.
He looked at her, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"Just that the impression I got back at the Presidential reception was that she was pretty fond of the guy."
"Aw now come on, Helen," he said incredulously. "That same night she was busy promoting her hot little arse into bed with me." "So?"
"Well, a woman doesn't do that kind of thing if she's in love with her husband."
"She doesn't? Look Tom—you're a fine Corps Commander, but what you know about women isn't worth a damn—especially women like Elsa Niebohr. You were just another stud for her collection—Bob Prince was her husband."
"But she was cheating on him—not just with me."
"Sure she was, but I'm trying to tell you—that wouldn't make any difference as far as she was concerned."
"You mean she could love him and at the same time be making a fool of him? But what if he found out?"
"That's the sauce that adds flavor to the dish," Helen said. "Although I don't think the risk was ever too great A woman like Elsa would be far too clever to ever let him find her out—and if he suspected her, well, that might be just another way of keeping a tighter hold on him."
"God! You make it sound like some kind of perverted game."
"Poor Tom," she said, smiling at him. "You had a lucky escape, didn't you? If that emergency call hadn't come through, our little Elsa would have eaten you alive, make no mistake-about that"
"Rubbish!" he said uncomfortably. "But you've given me an idea."
"Like what?"
"Well, if my suspicions are correct, and Wernher did kill Prince, Elsa's not going to be happy about it, is she?"
"I'd say she'd be hopping mad."
He nodded. "That's the way I figure it." He reached out towards the vid switch. "You'd better keep out of sight of the scanner while I make this call," he said.
Chapter Twenty-five
To congratulate a man of probity upon his probity is to offer him a deadly insult.
The Wit and Wisdom of Henry Fong (p. 173)
She was in the water when he arrived, her lithe brown body outlined against the pale blue of the pool bottom as she swam gracefully towards him beneath the surface. Bursting upwards in a flurry of bubbles, she extended one arm.
"Nice to see you again, Commander. Haul me, will you?"
He grasped her wrist and pulled her up onto the side. She stood grinning at him as she squeezed the water from her jet black hair with both hands, the drops glistening on her dark, oiled body like diamonds.
"You're going to be kind of hot in that uniform," she said. "Why don't you peel?"
"I'm fine as I am, thanks." Bruce was uncomfortably aware of the echoes of passion that were reawakening in him at the sight of her nakedness.
"You really do want to talk?" Her dark eyes regarded him mockingly.
"Now that seems an awful waste of a beautiful afternoon."
He stared at her, conscious of his awkwardness and wondering if he had made a mistake in coming here. Back on Vee Twelve, what Helen had said seemed to make sense—but here, in Elsa Prince's presence, he had the feeling that even another woman as intelligent as Helen could hardly be expected to predict the reactions of this elemental creature.
"Look, if you're bashful, I'm sure there must be an odd pair of Bob's trunks kicking around in that dressing room," she said. "Why don't you take a look?"
"I don't intend to borrow anything belonging to Bob this trip," he said stiffly.
"My!" she exclaimed with a chuckle. "What happened to my hard-riding Commander? They been feeding you—what do they call them in the good old Corps—Anti Pills?"
"For God's sake, Elsa! I came here for a serious discussion. Can't you stop joking around for just ten minutes?"
She looked up at him as she smoothed the palms of both her hands gently down over her breasts, following the smooth tautness of her flat stomach until they came to rest side by side over the dark vee of her mons pubis.
"This is no joke, Commander. You should know that Or did they clean out your memory too?"
"Elsa, what I have to talk about is important to both of us, but if you're not going to be sensible I shall just leave."
Her mocking expression hardened, and it seemed to him for a moment as though Elkan Niebohr was staring at him out of those dark eyes. He found himself wondering what she would look like when she was old. He had a sudden vision of a wizened, monkey-like creature of incredible ugliness—as if the corruption that was inside her had gradually externalized itself, imprisoning her in a husk of evil. What if the sensual demands of her body outlived her present beauty? Perhaps she herself saw the same vision, and her present insatiability was in fact a pathetic attempt to store up sexual pleasure against that long winter of neglect.
"All right, Bruce—I don't beg," she said harshly. She picked up a light toweling robe from the lounging bed and slipped it on. "Now, what do you want to talk about?" She sat down on one of the chairs around the umbrella-shaded table.
"Not what—whom he said, lowering himself into the seat opposite her. "Your husband—Bob Prince."
"Your old buddy—the one you're aiming to have grounded."
"Poppa told you about that, did he?"
"Naturally."
"I wonder what else he told you," Bruce said carefully. "I think maybe there were one or two things he left out."
"For instance?" Her dark eyes watched him alertly.
"Like the fact that we're now a hundred percent certain that the destruction of the Orphelin Three colony was not the work of the Kilroys."
"What has that got to do with Bob?" she asked.
"Well, for a starter, all the evidence points to the fact that Medusa, under Bob's command, was the last ship known to be in the Orphelin system before the attack. And added to that, his complete familiarity with the type of weapon used."
She shook her head gently. "He just isn't capable of doing a thing like that. Five million people blotted out."
'I'm talking about the evidence," Bruce said carefully. "Right now, the way Henry Fong has it figured, Bob Prince is the prime candidate. The guilt has to be laid somewhere—and Bob isn't here to defend himself."
"You don't believe Bob killed that planet any more than I do," she said.
"What I believe has nothing to do with it," Bruce said. "Do you know where Bob is now?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," she said. "And if I had I sure wouldn't tell you."
"But you want him back?"
"He's my husband." - "That doesn't answer my question."
"It does as far as I'm concerned," she said, smoothing the robe over her thighs.
"Hasn't it occurred to you that he may have gone the same way as Wernher and MacGuinness?"
She looked up sharply. "Wernher?"
"Didn't Poppa tell you he was back?"
She made a quick recovery. "Maybe. . .I don't remember."
"He went out with Medusa on that last trip, didn't he?"
"If you know so much, why do you need any answers from me?" Elsa said.
"If you didn't know he was back on Earth, I don't suppose you knew that he was dead either—on your father s orders after he had disposed of MacGuinness, who was the last remaining link with the Orphelin Three operation?"
"You'd have a hard time proving any of that. In any case, I don't see—"
"Shall I tell you what I think happened?"
"If it amuses you," she said. Her eyes were wary, showing both doubt and deep concern.
'I think that the destruction of Orphelin Three was deliberately planned by your father and Wernher, without the knowledge of Bob Prince. I don't think he had the slightest idea what was going on. He believed your father's cover story that he was to transport a group of geologists and engineers for a survey of Orphelin Four, then carry on to Balomain. What neither your father nor Wernher had counted on was the fact that Bob was constandy monitoring Corps frequencies, and that he would turn back to the Orphelin system as soon as he picked up the Emergency call. He would never even have known about the group on Four, if he hadn't. . .and he would probably have been alive today—on Balomain."
"Alive?" she looked up at him, startled.
"Ask yourself this question," Bruce pursued. "What would be Bob Prince's reaction when he found out that he had been used in such a plot? Wernher would have to kill him, just as he came back to Earth to kill MacGuinness—and just as your father had Wernher himself killed in his turn."
"You don't know any of this is true—you're just guessing," she said.
"I wouldn't be if you told me why Poppa wanted his pride and joy, Orphelin Three, destroyed," Bruce said.
She regarded him, her head tilted slightly to one side. "Nice try, Commander. In a kind of a way I believe you really do care about Bob and what may have happened to him." She rose to her feet. "You're right, too—I could give you Poppa's head on a plate if
I wanted. But I'm not going to—because Poppa and me—we're family. Now get out!" She turned abruptly , and walked swiftly back towards the house. And to Bruce her walk was as confident as ever.
Chapter Twenty-six
On the subject of History again—it may be , a comforting thought to remember that evil actions have sometimes produced great good in the long run.
The Wit and Wisdom of Henry Fong (p. 457)
"I really don't think you should blame yourself too much, Commander Bruce," said President Fong.
Tom Bruce shook his head. "I should have known better than to attempt it, but with Wernher dead, tackling Elsa seemed to be the only way."
"You must be right about Prince, of course," Fong said, clinking the ice in his glass of lemon soda. "If he were alive, he would have been back on Earth by now."
I've been wondering if Elsa knew all along that he might be killed," Bruce said.
Fong shrugged. "She may well have decided he was expendable."
"What kind of woman could think that way about her own husband?"
"We're talking about a female version of Elkan Niebohr, and you ask that question?" Fong glanced at his wristwatch. "Excuse me just a moment." He walked over to the big wall-screen vid and switched it on.
A surge of martial music with resounding brass filled the large lounge, then faded slightly as the program title was repeated by the voice of an off-screen announcer.
"Once again The Voice of the Planets speaks to the peoples of United Earth. Tonight we begin with an important statement by the President of the Excelsior Colonization Corporation, Mr. Elkan Niebohr."
As the titles faded and dissolved into the scene of an oak-paneled study, the camera zoomed in slowly on the massive figure seated behind the desk. Nie-bohr's beaked face was solemn.
"Good evening, my friends. I speak to you on this occasion with a mixture of sadness and pride, which I am sure you will all understand when yo
u hear what I have to say. I want to tell you about a planet—a near-paradise where happy colonists have lived and worked under the benevolent guiding hand of the Excelsior Corporation for over twenty years. I speak, of course, of Orphelin Three, whose development I can in all modesty say has been in large measure due to my own personal interest. Any father must have favorites among his children, and I am not ashamed to say that Orphelin Three and its five million inhabitants has always been near to my heart.
"Under these circumstances you will be able to imagine the pain and distress with which I have to tell you that the colony on Orphelin Three no longer exists—that it has been wantonly and wickedly destroyed by the action of those inhuman creatures we
have come to call Kilroys. Some ten days ago there was a sudden break in communications..
"For Gods sake, Mr. President!" exclaimed Bruce. Did you know about this?"
"Later, Commander, later," said Fong, waving one hand in a gesture that demanded silence.
. .First on the scene was the Corps ship Venturer Twelve, under the command of Commander Thomas Winford Bruce, who immediately initiated a full-scale rescue operation in the hope of saving any survivors of the holocaust. Shortly after that, the Excelsior Corporation freighter Medusa, under the command of our fleet director—my own son-in-law, Commander Robert Prince—arrived and offered assistance to Commander Bruce, comrade of the days when he too was a member of the Corps. However, while discussions, of the form this assistance might best take were still going on, the radar operator of Medusa reported the appearance of a UFO in the area of the outer planets of the Orphelin system. Realizing that Venturer Twelve was fully occupied with the rescue operation, Commander Prince paused only long enough to send a brief message to his Corps colleague before heading off at full acceleration to investigate the UFO."
Niebohr paused for a long moment before continuing, his deep-set eyes staring into the camera. "Some of you may not understand the kind of coin-age implied by an act of that nature—the sheer selfless determination to serve and to avenge in some measure the sufferings of his fellow human beings that led Bob Prince, commanding an-unarmed merchant ship, to take off in pursuit of a deadly enemy. Such men are not of common clay—they are a special breed. In the event, we can only guess at the outcome, because both Medusa and the UFO she was pursuing soon disappeared beyond range of Venturer Twelve's detection equipment, and neither has been sighted since. It may be that Bob Prince perished in his brave attempt —or it may be that somewhere out there beyond the borders of known space he is still pursuing the enemy. But whether he ever returns or not, I can still say to you with pride this evening that such men symbolize the spirit of our race, and while they exist we shall stand against any enemy the hostile universe might send to challenge us. I offer you this message of hope, despite the dreadful and tragic destruction of the Orphelin colony. Nothing can bring, back those five million wantonly destroyed lives, but I want you to join with me this evening in a solemn commitment that, together, all we people of United Earth will support any effort made by our President and the Space Corps to seek out and destroy these creatures who menace our existence. Thank you. . ." The great domed head bowed as the music surged upwards again and the scene faded.
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