The Survivors (22 page)

“How—how did you do it?” he asked in heavily accented Terran. “Only two of you—”

“Don’t talk until you’re asked a question,” Lake said.

“Only two of you … ” The thought seemed to restore his courage, as sight of the ship had restored Narth’s that night, and his tone became threatening. “There are only two of you and more guards will be here to kill you within a minute. Surrender to me and I’ll let you go free—”

Lake slapped him across the mouth with a backhanded blow that snapped his head back on his shoulders and split his lip.

“Don’t talk,” he ordered again. “And never lie to us.”

The commander spit out a tooth and held his hand to his bleeding mouth. He did not speak again.

Tip and Freckles were holding tightly to his shoulder and each other, the racing of their hearts like a vibration, and he touched them reassuringly.

“All right now—all safe now,” he said.

He called Charley Craig. “Charley—did you make it?”

“We made it to the drive room—two of us and one prowler,” Charley answered. “What about you?”

“Norman and I have the control room. Cut their drives, to play safe. I’ll let you know as soon as the entire ship is ours.”

He went to the viewscreen and saw that the battle was over. Chiara was letting the searchlight burn again and prowlers were being used to drive back the unicorns from the surrendering Gerns.

“I guess we won,” he said to Lake.

But there was no feeling of victory, none of the elation he had thought he would have. Sigyn was dying alone in the alien corridor outside. Sigyn, who had nursed beside him and fought beside him and laid down her life for him …

“I want to look at her,” he said to Lake.

Fenrir went with him. She was still alive, waiting for them to come back to her. She lifted her head and touched his hand with her tongue as he examined the wound. It was not fatal—it need not be fatal. He worked swiftly, gently, to stop the bleeding that had been draining her life away. She would have to lie quietly for weeks but she would recover.

When he was done he pressed her head back to the floor and said, “Lie still, Sigyn girl, until we can come to move you. Wait for us and Fenrir will stay here with you.”

She obeyed and he left them, the feeling of victory and elation coming to him in full then. Lake looked at him questioningly as he entered the control room and he said, “She’ll live.”

He turned to the Gern commander. “First, I want to know how the war is going?”

“I—” The commander looked uncertainly at Lake.

“Just tell the truth,” Lake said. “Whether you think we’ll like it or not.”

“We have all the planets but Earth, itself,” the commander said. “We’ll have it, soon.”

“And the Terrans on Athena?”

“They’re still—working for us there.”

“Now,” he said, “you will order every Gern in this ship to go to his sleeping quarters. They will leave their weapons in the corridors outside and they will not resist the men who will come to take charge of the ship.”

The commander made an effort toward defiance:

“And if I refuse?”

Lake answered, smiling at him with the smile of his that was no more than a quick showing of teeth and with the savage eagerness in his eyes.

“If you refuse I’ll start with your fingers and break every bone to your shoulders. If that isn’t enough I’ll start with your toes and go to your hips. And then I’ll break your back.”

The commander hesitated, sweat filming his face as he looked at them. Then he reached out to switch on the all-stations communicator and say into it:

“Attention, all personnel: You will return to your quarters at once, leaving your weapons in the corridors. You are ordered to make no resistance when the natives come … ”

There was a silence when he had finished and Humbolt and Lake looked at each other, bearded and clad in animal skins but standing at last in the control room of a ship that was theirs; in a ship that could take them to Athena, to Earth, to the ends of the galaxy. The commander watched them, on his face the blankness of unwillingness to believe.

“The airlocks—” he said. “We didn’t close them in time. We never thought you would dare try to take the ship—not savages in animal skins.”

“I know,” Humbolt answered. “We were counting on you to think that way.”

“No one expected any of you to survive here.” The commander wiped at his swollen lips, wincing, and an almost child-like petulance came into his tone. “You weren’t supposed to survive.”

“I know,” he said again. “We’ve made it a point to remember that.”

“The gravity, the heat and cold and fever, the animals—why didn’t they kill you?”

“They tried,” he said. “But we fought back. And we had a goal—to meet you Gerns again. You left us on a world that had no resources. Only enemies who would kill us—the gravity, the prowlers, the unicorns. So we made them our resources. We adapted to the gravity that was supposed to kill us and became stronger and quicker than Gerns. We made allies of the prowlers and unicorns who were supposed to be our executioners and used them tonight to help us kill Gerns. So now we have your ship.”

“Yes … you have our ship.” Through the unwillingness to believe on the commander’s face and the petulance there came the triumph of vindictive anticipation. “The savages of Ragnarok have a Gern cruiser—but what can they do with it?”

“What can we do with it?” he asked, almost kindly. “We’ve planned for two hundred years what we can do with it. We have the cruiser and sixty days from now we’ll have Athena. That will be only the beginning and you Gerns are going to help us do it.”

*

*

*

For six days the ship was a scene of ceaseless activity. Men crowded it, asking questions of the Gern officers and crew and calmly breaking the bones of those who refused to answer or who gave answers that were not true. Prowlers stalked the corridors, their cold yellow eyes watching every move the Gerns made. The little mockers began roaming the ship at will, unable any longer to restrain their curiosity and confident that the men and prowlers would not let the Gerns harm them.

One mocker was killed then; the speckle-faced mocker that could repeat messages verbatim. It wandered into a storage cubicle where a Gern was working alone and gave him the opportunity to safely vent his hatred of everything associated with the men of Ragnarok. He broke its back with a steel bar and threw it, screaming, into the disposal chute that led to the matter converter. A prowler heard the scream and an instant later the Gern screamed; a sound that died in its making as the prowler tore his throat out. No more mockers were harmed. One Ragnarok boy was killed. Three fanatical Gern officers stole knives from the galley and held the boy as hostage for their freedom. When their demands were refused they cut his heart out. Lake cornered them a few minutes later and, without touching his blaster, disemboweled them with their own knives. He smiled down upon them as they writhed and moaned on the floor and their moans were heard for a long time by the other Gerns in the ship before they died. No more humans were harmed.

They discovered that operation of the cruiser was relatively simple, basically similar to the operation of Terran ships as described in the text book the original Lake had written. Most of the operations were performed by robot mechanisms and the manual operations, geared to the slower reflexes of the Gerns, were easily mastered.

They could spend the forty-day voyage to Athena in further learning and practice so on the sixth day they prepared to depart. The unicorns had been given the freedom they had fought so well for and reconnaissance vehicles were loaned from the cruiser to take their place. Later there would be machinery and supplies of all kinds brought in by freighter ships from Athena. Time was precious and there was a long, long job ahead of them. They blasted up from Ragnarok on the morning of the seventh day and went into the black sea of hyperspace. By then the Gern commander was no longer of any value to them. His unwillingness to believe that savages had wrested his ship from him had increased until his compartment became his control room to him and he spent the hours laughing and giggling before an imaginary viewscreen whereon the cruiser’s blasters were destroying, over and over, the Ragnarok town and all the humans in it.

But Narth, who had wanted to have them tortured to death for daring to resist capture, became very cooperative. In the control room his cooperation was especially eager. On the twentieth day of the voyage they let him have what he had been trying to gain by subterfuge: access to the transmitter when no men were within hearing distance. After that his manner abruptly changed. Each day his hatred for them and his secret anticipation became more evident.

The thirty-fifth day came, with Athena five days ahead of them—the day of the execution they had let him arrange for them.

*

*

*

Stars filled the transdimensional viewscreen, the sun of Athena in the center. Humbolt watched the space to the lower left and the flicker came again; a tiny red dot that was gone again within a microsecond, so quickly that Narth in the seat beside him did not see it. It was the quick peek of another ship; a ship that was running invisible with its detector screens up but which had had to drop them for an instant to look out at the cruiser. Not even the Gerns had ever been able to devise a polarized detector screen.

He changed the course and speed of the cruiser, creating an increase in gravity which seemed very slight to him but which caused Narth to slew heavily in his seat. Narth straightened and he said to him:

“Within a few minutes we’ll engage the ship you sent for.”

Narth’s jaw dropped, then came back up. “So you spied on me?”

“One of our Ragnarok allies did—the little animal that was sitting near the transmitter. They’re our means of communication. We learned that you had arranged for a ship, en route to Athena, to intercept us and capture us.”

“So you know?” Narth asked. He smiled, an unpleasant twisting of his mouth. “Do you think that knowing will help you any?”

“We expect it to,” he answered.

“It’s a battleship,” Narth said. “It’s three times the size of this cruiser, the newest and most powerful battleship in the Gern fleet. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds good,” he said. “We’ll make it our flagship.”

“Your flagship—your ‘
flagship
’!” The last trace of pretense left Narth and he let his full and rankling hatred come through. “You got this cruiser by trickery and learned how to operate it after a fashion because of an animal-like reflex abnormality. For forty-two days you accidental mutants have given orders to your superiors and thought you were our equals. Now, your fool’s paradise is going to end.”

The red dot came again, closer, and he once more altered the ship’s course. He had turned on the course analyzer and it clicked as the battleship’s position was correlated with that of its previous appearance. A short yellow line appeared on the screen to forecast its course for the immediate future.

“And then?” he asked curiously, turning back to Narth.

“And then we’ll take all of you left alive back to your village. The scenes of what we do to you and your village will be televised to all Gern-held worlds. It will be a valuable reminder for any who have forgotten the penalty for resisting Gerns.”

The red dot came again. He punched the BATTLE STATIONS button and the board responded with a row of READY lights.

“All the other Gerns are by now in their acceleration couches,” he said. “Strap yourself in for high-acceleration maneuvers—we’ll make contact with the battleship within two minutes.”

Narth did so, taking his time as though it was something of little importance. “There will be no maneuvers. They’ll blast the stern and destroy your drive immediately upon attack.”

He fastened the last strap and smiled, taunting assurance in the twisted unpleasantness of it.

“The appearance of this battleship has very much disrupted your plans to strut like conquering heroes among the slaves on Athena, hasn’t it?”

“Not exactly,” Humbolt replied. “Our plans are a little broader in scope than that. There are two new cruisers on Athena, ready to leave the shops ten days from now. We’ll turn control of Athena over to the humans there, of course, then we’ll take the three cruisers and the battleship back by way of Ragnarok. There we’ll pick up all the Ragnarok men who are neither too old nor too young and go on to Earth. They will be given training en route in the handling of ships. We expect to find no difficulty in breaking through the Gern lines around Earth and then, with the addition of the Earth ships, we can easily capture all the Gern ships in the solar system.”

“ ‘Easily’!” Narth made a contemptuous sneer of the word. “Were you actually so stupid as to think that you biological freaks could equal Gern officers who have made a career of space warfare?”

“We’ll far exceed them,” he said. “A space battle is one of trying to keep your blaster beams long enough on one area of the enemy ship to break through its blaster shields at that point. And at the same time try to move and dodge fast enough to keep the enemy from doing the same thing to you. The ships are capable of accelerations up to fifty gravities or more but the acceleration limitator is the safeguard that prevents the ship from going into such a high degree of acceleration or into such a sudden change of direction that it would kill the crew.