In the Orbit of Saturn Read online

feeblyfighting, while Gore sat astride him, seeking with vicious fingers forQuirl's eyes. At the same time his men were kicking at the helplessman's body wherever they could reach him.

  At the sight of this brutality the other prisoners, forgetting for themoment their own cowed condition, set up such a bedlam of noise thatthe guard began to look furtively up the passage, and to shout at theruffians.

  Suddenly he was whirled aside, and a figure in uniform, moving withuncanny speed for a man so massive, appeared upon the platform andbounded down the ladder. He was among the struggling men on the floorin a moment, and became a maze of flailing arms and legs. Liketen-pins the pirates scattered, and the giant pulled off the mate.Gore could not see, but as he writhed he knew he was in the grip ofthe pirate captain. Captain Strom's harsh, ascetic face was dangerous,and his steely gray eyes compelling. The men managed slovenly salutes.

  "Gore," Strom snapped, "have your men get some water and mop up thisblood. How many times have I told you to quit mauling the prisoners?D'ye think I'm in this business to provide amusement for you?Henceforth keep out of this hold. Hear?"

  "Yes, sir," Gore muttered sullenly.

  "Took five of you bums to handle him, did it?" Strom remarkedsardonically, stooping to pick up the unconscious Quirl. He carriedhim easily, up the ladder. As they disappeared Strom's voice boomedout:

  "Dr. Stoddard! Stoddard! Messenger, have Stoddard report at my cabin."

  * * * * *

  The mate was wiping the blood off his face with a rag.

  "I tried to call yer," the guard whined.

  "That tears it!" Gore exclaimed fiercely, bursting into a string ofabuse. But one of his henchmen nudged him.

  "Keep yer tongue in yer face, Gore, till the time comes."

  Gore said nothing, but glared savagely at the prisoners.

  "Get the buckets and mops!" he snarled at his men, and they fledprecipitately.

  A long, wailing noise came through the hatch:

  "Soopson! S-o-o-pson!"

  "Here comes yer grub, damn you," Gore growled at the prisoners ingeneral. A shuffling sound followed the singsong call, and then a"galley boy" of forty years or so, badly crippled by club-feet,shuffled up to the hatch and laboriously let himself down to theplatform. The huge bowl of stew he was carrying was far too heavy forhim, and his strained, thin face was beady with sweat.

  "Get a move on, Sorko!" Gore bellowed up at him. "Get your swill downhere. Some o' these swine are goin' short this time, anyway."

  Sorko set the big bowl down at the top of the steps and began todescend backward. Then he resumed his burden.

  But he was nervous, and had barely started when his crippled feet, fartoo big for his thin shanks, became entangled. He gave a giddy shriekand fell over backward, landing on his back, and lay still. His pale,freckled face became greenish.

  But the bowl, filled to the brim by its greasy, scalding hot contents,flew in a sweeping parabola, tipping as it fell, so that the entirecontents cascaded on Gore, drenching him from head to foot. Howlingwith rage and pain he danced around. He was utterly beside himself.When he was able to see he rushed for Sorko, who was moaning withreturning consciousness, and picked up the frail body to hurl itagainst the floor.

  "Stop, or you're dead!"

  * * * * *

  That voice, so incisive and clear, was a woman's. Gore found himselflooking into the little twin funnels of his own ray projector. Theywere filled with a milky light, and the odor of ozone was strong. Thegirl had only to press the trigger and a powerful current would leapalong the path of those ionizing beams. And Gore would murder no more.

  Stupidly, he let Sorko slide to the floor, where the poor fellowrecovered sufficiently from his paralyzing fright and his fall toscuttle away.

  Looking past the menacing weapon, Gore saw the girl, Lenore Hyde. Herlimpid eyes under their straight brows were blazing, and he read inthem certain death for himself.

  "Up that ladder!" she ordered sharply, "and stay out! Guard, when thisbeast is gone I will give you this weapon. Now, connect up yourskipper."

  Too surprised to disobey, the guard threw the televisor switch, and ina moment Strom's stern face appeared on the screen. He comprehendedthe situation immediately.

  "Do as she says," he ordered brusquely. "Stoddard is coming to takecare of that man of hers that Gore beat up."

  A few minutes later she was tearfully assisting the ship's doctor toput the man with the dislocated shoulders on a stretcher.

  "Your husband?" asked Stoddard, who resembled a starved gray rat.

  "My brother," she exclaimed simply.

  "Want to take care of him?" And at her eager assent, he said, "Can'tafford to let him die. Your family got money?"

  "Yes, yes! They will pay anything--anything--to get him back safely."

  The doctor grinned with satisfaction.

  * * * * *

  Memory returned to Quirl with the realization that he was lying on ametal bunk in an outside stateroom, where he could see the orderlyprocession of the stars through the floor ports as the ship rotated.His body was racked with pain, and his head seemed enormous. Hissensation, he discovered, was due to a thick swathing of bandages.

  As he stirred something moved in an adjoining bunk, and Dr. Stoddard'speaked face came into view.

  "How do you feel?" he asked professionally.

  "Rotten!"

  "We'll fix that." He left, returning a few minutes later with aportable apparatus somewhat resembling its progenitor, the diathermygenerator. He disposed a number of insulated loops about Quirl's bodyand head, connecting them through flexible cables to his machine. As agentle humming began, Quirl was conscious of an agreeable warmth, of aquickening all over his body. A great lassitude followed, and heslept.

  When he awoke again Captain Strom was standing beside him. He hadtaken off his coat, and his powerful body filled the blouse he waswearing. He had evidently just come off duty, for he still had on hisblue trousers, with the stripes of gold braid down the sides.

  "It may interest you, Mr. Finner, that I have selected you as one ofthe chosen," he remarked casually.

  "One of the chosen what?"

  "The chosen race. You didn't take me for an out-and-out damned pirate,did you?"

  "Excuse me if I seem dumb!" Quirl hoisted himself on his elbow. "Yes,I figure you're a pirate. What else?"

  * * * * *

  Strom's stern face relaxed in a smile. It was a strange smile,inscrutably melancholy. It revealed, beneath the hardness of awarrior, something else; the idealism of a poet. When he spoke againit was with a strange gentleness:

  "To attain one's end, one must make use of many means, and sometimesto disguise one's purpose. For instance, it is perfectly proper for anofficer of the I.F.P. to disguise himself like a son of the idle richin order to lay the infamous 'Scourge' by the heels, isn't it?"

  Quirl felt himself redden. And a cold fear seemed to overwhelm him. Herealized that Strom was a zealot, and he knew he would not hesitate tokill. This prompt penetration of his disguise was something he had notbargained for.

  "What makes you think," he asked shortly, "that I'm an I.F.P. man?"

  "The fight you gave Gore and his men. Do you expect me to think that acoupon clipper could have done that? I know the way of--"

  He checked himself. Quirl said:

  "My people have money. I don't know what you mean about--"

  "Oh, yes, you do," Strom interrupted. "If you were what you claim tobe perhaps I would let you go for the ransom, though you took my eyefrom the first."

  "The ransom will be paid."

  "It will not. You will be one of those who do not return. There isonly one price I will accept from you."

  "Yes? What is that?"

  "The formula of the new etheric ray."

  "I don't know the I.F.P. secrets. I told you that."

  "You know how to operate the ray.
All its men do. I want you to tellme what you know. I can deduce the rest."

  * * * * *

  Quirl thought rapidly. Strom was right. The I.F.P. had developed a newray that was far superior to the ionizer ray, for the latter requiredan atmosphere of some kind for its operation, while the new one wouldwork equally well in a vacuum.

  "I never heard of any," he lied stubbornly. "Anyway, what do you wanta ray for? Your guns, with no gravity to interfere and no air to stopthe bullets, have just about unlimited range, haven't they?"

  "Spoken like a soldier!" Again Strom permitted himself a brieftriumphant smile. "And we have the further advantage of