Beyond the Galactic Lens by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb [Tubb, E. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science fiction
ISBN: 9780575107892
Publisher: DAW Books
Published: 2011-09-29T07:00:00+00:00

“Maybe, Veem, but we had luck.”

More than they had the right to expect. A mass of rock heavy with metals which had swept on its path into the area of the scanners. A false hope which had given them a vital clue. A chance which they had taken and which now appeared to have been successful. If what they saw on the screen was the vessel from Reyud.

“It fits the pattern, Cap,” reported Luden as they drew closer, space eaten by the pulse of the engines. “A ship of the Pheelan Line. A converted freighter of the Beta Class. The mass checks out.”

Chemile said, quietly, “How do we handle it, Cap? Torpedoes?”

“We’ll decide later, Veem. Get us close and drift.”

Chemile concentrated on the instruments, knowing the hesitation had nothing to do with Kennedy’s reluctance to take innocent life. It was a thing he had to face, to accept from harsh necessity. The carriers posed a continual danger and it was not in Kennedy’s nature to indulge himself in compromise. From the first he had known what had to be done and he was ready to do it. But first he had to make sure.

As the image, now clear, flickered to steady the Mordain dropped from plus-C velocity. He said, “Stand by for checking. Hold her steady, Veem. Penza, prepare a suit. Jarl, keep watch.”

“One suit, Cap?” The giant’s roar was a protest. “I’m coming with you.”

“One suit, Penza. I can do what has to be done.”

To check, to search every inch of the hull, to make certain that the people it had enclosed were still inside. And there were reasons for him to do it alone.

Luden guessed them. As Kennedy began to don the suit he said, quietly, “Cap, you’re thinking of Kaifeng.”

“He could be close, Jarl,” Kennedy admitted. “If he hasn’t already come and gone, then he could be on his way. We could be the first. If he’d taken the carriers he would have destroyed the ship. But he could have rigged up something, a bomb triggered with a proximity fuse. That’s why I want you to take the Mordain away from the immediate area.”

“Cap—”

“Do it, Jarl.” Kennedy’s tone precluded all argument. He had given a command—it would be obeyed. Sealing the helmet he said, “Checking. All receiving? Good. Maintain battle-alert.”

The outer door of the vestibule closed behind him and, abruptly, he was alone in space. Alone in a sense he had never felt before.

Always there had been stars, a field of brightness, space filled with glowing light. Now there was nothing, just a pale gleam from the galaxies ahead, a skim of luminescence from the lenticular shape of the one they had left.

Dark, near-invisible, the bulk of the coffinship loomed before him as he jetted through space with the aid of a reaction pistol.

As he touched it, boots taking the impact, knees flexing like springs, the Mordain vanished. A fraction of a second of plus-C velocity and it was far beyond sight, drifting powerless and apparently dead in the void.

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