Part 30 (2/2)

Three days out, Hilton used his sense of perception to release the thought-controlled blocks that had been holding all the controls of the _Perseus_ in neutral. He informed her officers--by releasing a public-address tape--that they were now free to return to Terra.

Three days later, one day short of Sol, Sawtelle got Five-Jet Admiral Gordon's office on the sub-s.p.a.ce radio. An officious underling tried to block him, of course.

”Shut up, Perkins, and listen,” Sawtelle said, bruskly. ”Tell Gordon I'm bringing in one hundred twenty thousand two hundred forty-five metric tons of pelleted uranexite. And if he isn't on this beam in sixty seconds he'll never get a gram of it.”

The admiral, outraged almost to the point of apoplexy, came in.

”Sawtelle, report yourself for court-martial at ...”

”Keep still, Gordon,” the captain snapped. In sheer astonishment old Five-Jets obeyed. ”I am no longer Terran Navy; no longer subject to your orders. As a matter of cold fact, I am no longer human. For reasons which I will explain later to the full Advisory Board, some of the personnel of Project Theta Orionis underwent transformation into a form of life able to live in an environment of radioactivity so intense as to kill any human being in ten seconds. Under certain conditions we will supply, free of charge, FOB Terra or Luna, all the uranexite the Solar System can use. The conditions are these,” and he gave them. ”Do you accept these conditions or not?”

”I ... I would vote to accept them, Captain. But that weight! One hundred twenty thousand _metric tons_--incredible! Are you _sure_ of that figure?”

”Definitely. And that is minimum. The error is plus, not minus.”

”This crippling power-shortage would really be over?” For the first time since Sawtelle had known him, Gordon showed that he was not quite solid Navy bra.s.s.

”It's over. Definitely. For good.”

”I'd not only agree; I'd raise you a monument. While I can't speak for the Board, I'm sure they'll agree.”

”So am I. In any event, your cooperation is all that's required for this first load.” The chips had vanished from Sawtelle's shoulders. ”Where do you want it, Admiral? Aristarchus or White Sands?”

”White Sands, please. While there may be some delay in releasing it to industry ...”

”While they figure out how much they can tax it?” Sawtelle asked, sardonically.

”Well, if they don't tax it it'll be the first thing in history that isn't. Have you any objections to releasing all this to the press?”

”None at all. The harder they hit it and the wider they spread it, the better. Will you have this beam switched to Astrogation, please?”

”Of course. And thanks, Captain. I'll see you at White Sands.”

Then, as the now positively glowing Gordon faded away, Sawtelle turned to his own staff. ”Fenway--Snowden--take over. Better double-check micro-timing with Astro. Put us into a twenty-four-hour orbit over White Sands and hold us there. We won't go down. Let the load down on remote, wherever they want it.”

The arrival of the Ardvorian superdreadnought _Orion_ and the _UC-1_ (Uranexite Carrier Number One) was one of the most sensational events old Earth had ever known. Air and s.p.a.ce craft went clear out to Emergence Volume Ninety to meet them. By the time the _UC-1_ was coming in on its remote-controlled landing spiral the press of small s.h.i.+ps was so great that all the police forces available were in a lather trying to control it.

This was exactly what Hilton had wanted. It made possible the completely un.o.bserved launching of several dozen small craft from the _Orion_ herself.

One of these made a very high and very fast flight to Chicago. With all due formality and under the aegis of a perfectly authentic Registry Number it landed on O'Hare Field. Eleven deeply tanned young men emerged from it and made their way to a taxi stand, where each engaged a separate vehicle.

Sam Bryant stepped into his cab, gave the driver a number on Oakwood Avenue in Des Plaines, and settled back to scan. He was lucky. He would have gone anywhere she was, of course, but the way things were, he could give her a little warning to soften the shock. She had taken the baby out for an airing down River Road, and was on her way back. By having the taxi kill ten minutes or so he could arrive just after she did.

Wherefore he stopped the cab at a public communications booth and dialed his home.

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