his neck and everybody else's aboard. Well, let him go outthere and break his blasted neck on the Asteroid Belt.
For the next three days Bill saw much of Margo. She was the mostexciting thing he had ever discovered, and he indulged her laughinglywhen she took to speaking of his position in Intercontinental Lines asan accomplished fact.
On the third day he took Margo to lunch, a Margo with shining eyes,for this was Bill's day of decision. She had done her work well.
He ordered for them, and added, "Also a bottle of champagne."
The waiter brought the champagne first. There was no doubt on Margo'sfeatures what this was about, even though it had always been "if","maybe" "possibly" in Bill's discussions with her about the new job.
In the midst of picking up his glass and proposing a toast, "Here's tomy new--" Bill stopped. The ultrafax had popped out a sheet. Carefullyputting the glass down, he said, "That's a special bulletin."
Picking it up he read aloud, "Staker Rocket in serious trouble. Homefield reports damage by small meteor. Crew on emergency air bottles.Mysterious emanations blind radar scope and disrupt communication withEarth."
Tom--and the others, out there fighting for their lives againstsuffocation and intense cold. Their quarrel seemed like the antics ofteenagers now. He had to get out to the field, see if he could help.
"What are you going to do?" Margo was watching him intently, theknuckles of her small hands white.
"I'm going to the field."
"But--but what about that toast you were making to your new--job,that's what you were going to say, wasn't it?" Her eyes were intensespots of jet.
"I guess that'll have to wait, Margo," he told her. "I can't stand bywhen Tom needs help."
Margo clutched his hands convulsively. "Bill, don't take a rocket upor you'll die in the same trap he's dying in!" The words rushed out asif through a trapdoor she could not control.
Bill glanced at her with sharp, new interest. "How do you know it's atrap, and how do you know he's going to die?"
Tears began to well up in her large eyes. "All I can tell you is don'tgo out there, Bill. I don't want to lose you--now."
Dawning realization filled Bill with horror. "Margo--Margo, for God'ssake, what kind of a game have you been playing with me!"
Margo's shoulders sagged, and she began to sob out her story. "Bill,please, please believe me. I love you. That was not my part of theagreement with Asteroid Mining--to fall in love with you. Yes. I washired to separate you and your brother, break up your company."
Before Bill could snarl an answer to that, a hotel service clerk camewith a portable phone.
"Call for you, sir."
With his eyes fixed steadily on Margo, he spoke into the transmitter,"Captain Staker."
Christy's strained and tearful voice came over the wire. "Bill, oh,Bill, we're getting terrible news here at the field. Tom's ship islosing oxygen!"
"Yes, I know," he answered. "I just got the Ultra on it. I'll be rightout, Christy."
As he replaced the phone he looked at Margo with a grim, loathingexpression. "A female trick as old as the universe and I had to fallfor it. You and your innocent questions about our Quadrant trajectory!What a sucker I was!" He drew back his hand to slap her but decidedagainst it. She was crying when he left.
On the way to the field the familiar but forgotten black tide of fearrose up like a spectre once more to scatter his gathering ideas forhelping Tom. Resigning himself to its power and pulling over to theroadside, he sat still, gripping the wheel. Yes, he told himselftensely, here I sit while Tom and the others drift in space needinghelp. The realization of their need slowly gave him a greaterobjective clarity than he had ever had before. He began to see himselfnow for what he was--a cringing weakling stripped naked of allmanliness at the first show of evil. Though he perhaps had been worsethan the average, this was the trouble with his whole security mindedgeneration. They never dreamed great dreams like George Staker and hisera which wrested atomic power from the treasure house of nature. No,this generation carefully followed safe, charted paths in the world ofideas. It had given up its freedom to a world of government controlledmonopolies. And Tom, taking up the torch left by their creativelyimaginative ancestor, was trying to recapture a small facet of thatgolden age.
* * * * *
With the dawning in him of Mid-Twentieth Century mind, Bill felt athrilling sense of freedom as the black tide receded over the horizonof his inner world. He took a new firm grip on the wheel, and took offagain at high speed.
Christy was at the field office waiting outside. As he stepped out ofthe car, she threw her arms around him.
"Oh, Bill, what can you do for Tom now?"
He said gently, "I'll bring him back for you."
She drew back her head to look at him incredulously, "You stillthink--! Oh, Bill, you foolish guy, you're the one I love, the oneI've always loved."
For a moment he searched her eyes and saw only a revelation of honestfeeling. A surging gladness flooded through him, releasing anunconscious hard ball of tension inside.
"Christy, what a knothead I've been!" He gathered her up to kiss herfervently. "So long, Christy. Old Staker was a piker at dreamingcompared to what I'm dreaming for you and me!"
The field men had the rocket fueled up and provisioned to go. "This'llbe no picnic, but there's a prize out there if we want it bad enough.You'll all have a share in it, instead of handing it all over to thegovernment. Are you with Tom and me?"
"Sure, Bill. Let's go!"
"Yeah, let's open 'er wide up!"
They all clambered up the ship's access ladder in high spirits. In amoment a warning red signal rocket shot into the sky and burst,warning all local aircraft. Another five minutes and the rocket leaptoff the Earth with a long, shattering roar.
Bill kept the fissioning metals pouring through the atomic explosiveafter-chambers until the men screamed at the acceleration. Finally heeased it off to free flight and the _Space Dragon_ followed thetrajectory of the _Space Bird_.
All the way he hovered over the radar scope. Then after long hours offatiguing watching he crawled into his bunk.
Later he woke up to Radarman Jones' voice in his ear.
"Captain--wake up. We've picked up a ship on the scope!"
Bill piled out and forced his floating feet to magnetic contact withthe steel deck. He followed Jones down the short corridor to thecommunications cabin.
At the radar scope Bill studied the ship, then gave ordersdecelerating the _Space Dragon_.
"There's another ship!" Jones exclaimed, pointing at the edge of thescope.
Bill peered at the new ship, studying its characteristics. Then henodded his head. "It's the _Space Bird_ all right. But that firstone--I got an idea it must be an Asteroid Mining ship. Margo must havetransmitted the _Space Bird_ trajectory to Asteroid Mining. I don'tsee how anybody would know where to find us in such immense distancesas Beta Quadrant."
Stepping over to the communications panel he called the _Space Bird_.No answer, and though he kept calling he could not raise the ship.
Then he called Staker Field on Earth.
"Caxton?"
The field came back. "Staker Field. Go ahead."
"Caxton, we've found the _Space Bird_ but can't speak to them, so I'mcutting you in on communications with an Asteroid Mining ship that'shanging around. Tape pictures and sound--the whole works."
"Okay."
Flipping another switch, Bill called the strange ship on theall-interplanetary frequency.
Suddenly after long minutes of silence the dark screen lighted up withthe impassive features of a round faced, cold eyed man.
"Yeah? This is the _Pluton_. What d'you want--and who are you?"
"This is the _Space Dragon_--sister ship to the _Space Bird_ there inyour vicinity. What's the matter with our ship?"
The man's eyes darkened and his jaws tightened. "There's plenty wrongwith it, _Space Dragon_. And the same thing's going to be wrong withy
our ship, too. A 'meteor' is going to hit your ship the same as hitthe _Space Bird_. Asteroid Mining doesn't like competitors horning intheir business!"
Bill shot back grimly, "I'm glad to hear your views on competition,Mister. The whole world is interested in our Project Venture, and whenthey hear what you said there's going to be hell to pay. Because, yousee, everything you say and how you look saying it is being recordedback at Staker Field on Earth!"
The other man's impassive face suddenly turned into a ludicrous maskof a man burning his fingers on hot chestnuts. The two way
The Black Tide Page 3