Approaching Cavenda in his dead-black, scout-ship, Virgil Samms cut his drive, killed his atomics, and on his super-powered detectors. For five full in every direction—throughout a over ten in diameter—space was of ships. Some activity was upon the ahead, but the First Lensman did not worry about that. The drug-runners would of have in their plants, if there were no space-ships actually on the planet—which there were. What he did worry about was detection. There would be of detectors, automatic; not only ordinary sub-ethereals, but and as well.
He up to one and a detets, stopped, and again. Space was still empty. Then, after making a series of observations, he and an which, he hoped, would be close enough. He again off his and started the sixteen-cylinder Diesel engine which would do its best to replace them.
That best was none too good, but it would do. Besides the Bergenholm it of to produce a many times than any by matter. It used a of minute, but it would not for very many minutes. With her out of action his ship would not register upon the plates of the long-range used. Since she was traveling than light, neither detector-webs "see" her. Good enough.
Samms was not the System's best computer, did he have the System's instruments. His positional error be easily enough; but as he nearer and nearer to Cavenda, keeping, toward the last, in line with its one small moon, he more and more as to how much of an he should make for error in his intrinsic, which he had set up by guess. And there was another variable, the cut-off. He to just over one light; but at that slow speed an error of one at cut-off meant a of two hundred miles! He the into the Berg's cut-off circuit, set it for three hundred miles, and waited at his controls.
The clicked, the expired, the inert. Samms' eyes, from to instrument, told him that have been worse. His was neither up, as he had hoped, down, as he had feared, but almost half-way the two—straight out. He that just in time; in another second or two he would have been out the moon's protecting and thus from Cavenda. He free, to the opposite of his area of safety, inert, and put the full power of the Diesel to the of his intrinsic, continuously. Again and again he the maneuver; and thus, and stubbornly, he his ship to ground.
He was very to see that the surface of the was rougher, rockier, ruggeder, and more than that of Earth's Luna. Upon such a as this, it would be next to to spot a moving vessel—if it moved carefully.
By a series of and hops—correcting his after each one by an with the ground—he his into such a position that Cavenda's directly overhead. Breathing a of he killed the big engine, cut in his fully-charged accumulators, and on and spy-ray. He would see what he see.
His that there was only one point of activity on the whole planet. He it precisely; then, after his spy-ray to minimum power, he approached it gingerly, by yard. Stopped! As he had more than expected, there was a spy-ray block. A big one, almost two miles in diameter. It would be almost directly him—or rather, almost overhead—in about three hours.
Samms had along a telescope, more powerful than the of his scout. Since the surface of this moon was low—scarcely one-fifth that of Earth—he had no in the parts out of the ship or in setting the thing up.
But the did not do much good. The moon was close to Cavenda, as go—but worth-while are not portable. Thus the Lensman saw something that, by of the imagination, have been a factory; and, at the limit of visibility, he himself that he saw a toothpick-shaped object and a blob, either of which have been the space-ship of the outlaws. He was sure, however, of two facts. There were no upon Cavenda. There were no modern spaceports, or air-fields.
He the 'scope, it, set his detectors, and waited. He had to sleep at times, of course; but any ordinary can be set to off at any in its status—and Samms' was no ordinary rig. Wherefore, when the drug-mongers' took off, Samms left Cavenda as as he had approached it, and into that vessel's line.
Samms' strategy had been out long since. On his Diesel, at a of just over one detet, he would the as fast as he could; long to his line. He would then to drive and close up to one and two detets; then again go onto Diesel for a check. He would keep this up for as long as might prove necessary.
As as any of the Lensmen knew, Spaceways always used regular or in this business, and this was much than any such vessel. And if—highly thought!—the enemy ship was than his own, it would still be range of those when it got to it was that it was going. But how Samms was!
At his check, of being not over two away the was three and a half; at the second the was four and a quarter; at the third, almost five. Scowling, Samms the point of light into darkness. That that he had almost seen, then, had been the space-ship, but it had not been a sphere, as he had supposed. Instead, it had been a tear-drop; sticking, down, in the ground. Ultra-fast. This was the result. But ideas had up under him before, they would again. He drive and with the Port Admiral to with him and the Chicago at the possible time.
"What is there along that line?" he of the superdreadnaught's Chief Pilot, had been made.
"Nothing, sir, that we know of," that reported, after studying his charts.
He the ship of war, and with Kinnison over those same charts.
"Your best is Eridan, I think," Kinnison finally. "Not too near your line, but they very easily that a one-day would be a good investment. And Spaceways it, you know, from to limits—the in existence. Made to order. Nobody would a ship. How about a around Eridan?"
Samms for minutes. "No ... not yet, at least. We don't know yet."
"I know it—that's why it looks to me like a good time and place to learn something," Kinnison argued. "We know—almost know, at least—that a super-fast ship, thionite, has just there. This is the lead we've had. I say the planet, law, and not let anything in or out until we it. Somebody there must know something, a more than we do. I say him out and make him talk."
"You're just off, Rod. You know as well as I do that a of the small isn't enough. We can't move openly until we can high."
"I not," Kinnison grumbled. "But we know so little, Virge!"
"Little enough," Samms agreed. "Of the three main divisions, only the political is at all clear. In the division, we know where comes from and where it is processed, and Eridan may be—probably is—another link. On the other end, we know a of peddlers and a middlemen—nobody higher. We have no knowledge as to who the higher-ups are or how they work; and it's the we want. Concerning the pirates, we know less. 'Murgatroyd' may be no more a man's name than 'zwilnik' is...."
"Before you too away from the subject, what are you going to do about Eridan?"
"Nothing, for the moment, would be best, I believe. However, Knobos and DalNalten should their attention from Spaceways' to the ships from Eridan to all three of the planets. Check?"
"Check. Particularly since it so the merry-go-round they have been on so long—chasing the same of and so many times that the of the boxes got round. We've got to the top men, and they're smart. Which me—Morgan as Big Boss not square up with the Morgan that you and Fairchild so easily when he to the Hill. A loud-mouthed, politician might have a lock-box full of about party and power and girls and Martian coats, but the man we're after very definitely would not."
"You're telling me?" This point was such a one that Samms into idiom. "The boys should have that box a week ago, but they a knot. I'll see if they know anything yet. Tune in, Rod. Ray!" He Lensed a at his cousin.
"Yes, Virge?"
"Have you got a spy-ray into that lock-box yet?"
"Glad you called. Yes, last night. Empty. Empty as a sub-deb's skull—except for an atomic-powered that it took Bergenholm's whole laboratory almost a week to neutralize."
"I see. Thanks. Off." Samms to Kinnison. "Well?"
"Nice. A operator." Kinnison gave ungrudgingly. "Now I'll your picture—what a man! But now—and I've got my ears back—what was it you started to say about pirates?"
"Just that we have very little to go on, for the of they to like best, and the that have not been able to protect of of late. The escorts, too, have disappeared. But with these as bases, it to me that we something, like this...."
A fast, and a battle-cruiser through the inter-stellar void. The a valuable cargo: not or or plate of price, but above price—machine of precision, and instruments, and chronometers. She also First Lensman Virgil Samms.
And the war-ship there was Roderick Kinnison; for the time in history a battle-cruiser a Port Admiral's flag.
As as the of those two ships reach, space was empty of man-made craft; but the two Lensmen that they were not alone. One and one-half away, along at the freighter's speed and paralleling her course, in a open to the front, there six tear-drops; super-dreadnaughts of no Tellurian or Colonial government had an inkling. They were the and yet by man—the fruits of Operation Bennett. And they, too, Lensmen—Costigan, Jack Kinnison, Northrop, Dronvire of Rigel Four, Rodebush, and Cleveland. Nor was there need of detectors: the eight Lensmen were in as close as though they had been in the same room.
"On your toes, men," came Samms' thought. "We are about to pass a light-minutes of an system. No Tellurian-type at all. This may be it. Tune to Kinnison on one and to your captains on the other. Take over, Rod."
At one the ether, for one full in every direction, was empty. In the next, three of into being, in line with the so close at hand.
This came as a surprise, since only two had been expected: a to take of the escort, a to take the merchantman. The that the had or and had sent three super-dreadnaughts on the mission, however, did not to the Patrol's strategy; for Samms had concluded, and Dronvire and Bergenholm and Rularion of Jupiter had agreed, that the of the would be the that the freighter.
In the next instant, then—each Lensman saw what Roderick Kinnison saw, in the very of his it—six more points of hard, white light into being upon the plates of and cruiser.
"Jack and Mase, take the leader!" Kinnison out the thought. "Dronvire and Costigan, right wing—he's the one that's going after the freighter. Fred and Lyman, left wing. Hipe!"
The ships up, and sub-ether with a solid of through which no call for help be driven; two super-dreadnaughts against the cruiser, one against the freighter. The former, of course, had been to offer more than a resistance. Battle of the Patrol were powerful vessels, on and defense, and it was a and that the men of the Patrol were men. The who the freighter, however, was a indeed. His beam, well forward, well ahead of the cargo, should have the same against screens and wall-shields and as a white-hot would against a of luke-warm butter. Practically the whole nose-section, the room, should have into space in and of and metal. But nothing of the happened—this was no push-over!
No ordinary screens protected that particular and the person of First Lensman Samms—Roderick Kinnison had very to that. In her screen out-weighed her entire cargo, as that was, by more than two to one. Thus the pirate's and and and clung—uselessly. They did not penetrate. And as the his power up and up, to his of effort, the only result was to the already pyrotechnic of in all from the of the Tellurian freighter.
And in a the officers of the other two were also surprised. The battle-cruiser's screens did not go down, under the top of two super-dreadnaughts! And she did not have a to light a match—she must be all screen! But the do anything about the that they, of being the trappers, were in cold the trapped, all three of them were again—the last that any of them was to receive. Six tear-drops—vastly bigger, faster, more powerful than their own—were upon them, all of as and as as they themselves had been doing an before.
Being out and to kill, and not to capture, four of the from Bennett off the cruiser's two in very order. They in, at the four of an tetrahedron, and they had—and they had plenty. Possibly—just possibly—there may have been, somewhere, a space-battle than that one; but there was one more violent.
Then the four set out after their two sister-ships and the one pirate, who was his every to the of engagement. But with six ships, each one of which was of power than his own, at the six of an of which he was the center, his ability to cut and to "squirt out" from two pressors did him no good whatever. He was englobed; or, rather, to apply the to an operation so units, he was "boxed".
To the one out of the would have been easy enough, but that was what the Patrolmen did not want to do. They wanted information. Wherefore each of the Patrol ships a dozen or so upon the screens of the enemy; so that every square of was under direct attack. As as it be done without or synchronization, the power of each was up until the of the screen that it was on the very of failure. Then, in the instant, needle-beamers to work. The screen was already to its limit; no transfer of energy was possible. Thus, locally, it through the ultra-violet into the black and down; and the penetrant of pure and and stabbed.
The engine room first, though the had to a hundred-foot through the in order to the installations. Then, done so that spy-rays in, the of the work was done with and dispatch. In a of the helpless, and the Patrolmen her like an orange—or, rather, more like an cook very a potato. Resistless of energy off tail-section and nose-section, top and bottom, port and sides; then off the of what was left, until the room was almost to space.
Then, as soon as the possibly be matched, and storm! With Dronvire of Rigel Four in the lead, closely by Costigan, Northrop, Kinnison the Younger, and a of and Space Marines!
Samms and the two scientists did not in such a as that which was to come, and it. Kinnison the Elder did not belong, either, but did not know it. In fact, he and at having to out—nevertheless, out he stayed.
Dronvire, on the other hand, did not like to fight. The very of actual, bodily, hand-to-hand every of his being. In view of what the spy-ray men were reporting, however, and of what all the Lensmen of psychology, Dronvire had to into that room first, and he had to there fast. And if he had to fight, he could; and, physically, he was well for just such activity. To his physical strength, the natural of a of more than twice Earth's, the which so the Tellurian was a impediment. His of perception, which not be by any material substance, him of every in his neighborhood. His speed him not to a at him, but to out the of the would-be that be more than started. And a being can only one space-axe or fire only two ray-guns at a time, the Rigellian through space toward what was left of the vessel, not one or two space-axes, but four; each in a and supple, but strong, "hand".
Why axes? Why not Lewistons, or rifles, or pistols? Because the space of that day almost the of two or three hand-held projectors; the of its directly as the of the of any material them. Thus, and enough, the of science had the re-adoption of that long-extinct weapon.
Most of the had died, of course, the of their ship. Many more had been off by the needle-beam gunners. In the room, however, there was a of guards, so closely about the and his officers that not be used; a group that would have to be out by hand.
If the attack had come by way of the only doorway, so that the have their upon one or two Patrolmen, the might have had time to do what he was under to do. But while the Patrolmen were still in space a plane of off the entire of the room, a the away, and the in en masse.
Weightless is not at all like any of to us ground-grippers. It is much more difficult to master, and in times of the and to their gravity-field techniques. Thus the of most of the upon sides, while and of intent, were almost of result. In a of frantically-struggling were from to to to floor; wildly, from the of their own swings.
The Tellurian Lensmen, however, had had more and their lessons better. Jack Kinnison, into the room, the solid thing he reach; a post. Pulling himself to the floor, he feet, past the nearest foeman, his axe, and gave a shove. Such was his that in the of maximum the of his the pirate's helmet—and that was that. He his free and the away in such a direction that the would send him against a at the line, in position to repeat the maneuver.
Since Mason Northrop was and than his friend, his was different. He for the chart-table, which of was to the floor. He one steel-shod around one of the table's and the other against its top. Weightless but inert, it no his position was or or between; from this point of vantage, with his length of and arm and axe, he a of room. He out, bill of into or line-snap or of armor, and pulled; and as the past him, he and struck. And that, too, was that.
Dronvire of Rigel Four did not to the attack. He had been and was not now either or angry. Indeed, it was only that he what anger and were. He had been in any of a fight. Therefore he paused for a of to the and to his own most method of operation. He would not have to be in physical with the captain to go to work on his mind, but he would have to be closer than this and he would have to be free from physical attack while he concentrated. He what Kinnison and Costigan and Northrop were doing, and why each was in a different fashion. He that knowledge to his own mass, to his own musculature, to the length and of his arms—each one of which was twice as long and ten times as as the of an elephant. He and leverages, and reactions, points of application, and strains.
He away two of his axes. The two empty arms out, each around the of a pirate. Two flashed, each arm so nearly that it that the did not away the Rigellian's own armor. Two away from two and Dronvire for two more. And two—and two—and two. Calm and dispassionate, but not a motion or a millisecond, Dronvire more, in less time, than all the Tellurians in the room.
"Costigan, Northrop, Kinnison—attend!" he a thought. "I have no time to kill more of them. The is of a self-inflicted and I have work to do. See to it, please, that these do not attack me while I am doing it."
Dronvire his mind to that of the and probed. Although dying, the captain offered resistance, but the Rigellian was not alone. Attuned to his mind, with it, it and which no Rigellian had had or would have, were the two minds of Earth: that of Rod the Rock Kinnison, with the force, the will, the of all heredity; and that of Virgil Samms, with all that had him First Lensman.
"TELL!" that mind demanded, with a which not be denied. "WHERE ARE YOU FROM? Resistance is useless; yours or that of those you serve. Your and powers are smaller and than ours, since Spaceways is only a and we are the Galactic Patrol. TELL! WHO ARE YOUR BOSSES? TELL—TELL!"
Under that there appeared, and without any hint of knowledge of name or of co-ordinates, an planet, very in a smaller way to the Patrol's own Bennett, and—
Even more foggily, but still not so but that their were recognizable, the images of two men. That of Murgatroyd, the chief, to Kinnison and Samms; and—
Back of Murgatroyd and above him, that of—
BIG JIM TOWNE!
