Part 22 (1/2)

Then a blip appeared. It was at the most extreme limit of the radar's range. A s.h.i.+p had come out of overdrive near the fourth planetary orbit of this solar system.

Bors and the yeoman computer-operator figured its distance to six places of decimals. Bors set the microsecond timer. The _Horus_ went into low-speed overdrive and out again. Then the electron telescope revealed a stubby, rotund cargo-s.h.i.+p, about to land on Mekin.

Bors swore. It would be days before this tub reached Mekin on solar-system drive. But it must not report that an armed vessel had inspected it in remoteness.

”We haul alongside,” said Bors angrily. ”Boarding-parties ready in the s.p.a.ce-boats.”

Another wrenching flicker into overdrive and through breakout without pause. The cargo-boat was within ten miles.

”Calling cargo-boat!” rasped Bors, in what would be the arrogant tones of a Mekinese naval officer hailing a mere civilian s.h.i.+p. ”Identify yourself!”

A voice answered apologetically, ”_Cargo-s.h.i.+p_ Empress, _sir, bound from Loral to Mekin with frozen foods._”

”Cut your drive,” snapped Bors. ”Stand by for inspection! Muster your crews. There's a criminal trying to get ash.o.r.e on Mekin. We'll check your hands. Acknowledge!”

”_Yes, sir_,” said the apologetic voice. ”_Obeying, sir._”

Bors fretted. The s.p.a.ce-boats left the _Horus's_ side. One clamped onto the airlock of the rounded, bulging tramp-s.h.i.+p. The second lifeboat hovered nearby. The first boat broke contact and the second hooked on.

The second boat broke contact. Both came back to the _Horus_.

The screen before Bors lighted up. One of his own crewmen nodded out of it.

”_All clear, sir_,” said his voice briskly. ”_They behaved like lambs, sir. No arms. We've locked them in a cargo hold._”

”You know what to do now,” said Bors.

”_Yes, sir. Off._”

Ten miles away the cargo-boat swung itself about. Suddenly it was gone.

It was on the way to Glamis and the fleet.

Another hour of watching. Another blip. It was another cargo-carrier like the first. As the other had done, it meekly permitted itself to be boarded by what it believed were mere naval ratings of the Mekinese s.p.a.ce-fleet, searching for a criminal who might be on board. Like the first s.h.i.+p, it was soon undeceived. Again like the first, it vanished from emptiness, and it would be heading for the fleet in its monotonous circling of Glamis.

The third blip, though, was a light cruiser. The _Horus_ appeared from nowhere close beside it and its communicator began to scream in gibberish. It would be an official report, scrambled and taped, to be transmitted to ground on the first instant there was hope of its reception.

”Fire one,” said Bors. ”The skipper there is on his toes.”

He watched bleakly as the _Horus's_ missile arched in its impossible trajectory, as the light cruiser flung everything that could be gotten out to try to stop it, while its transmitter shrieked gibberish to the stars.

There was a blinding flash of light. Then nothing.

”He got out maybe fifteen seconds of transmission,” said Bors somberly, ”which may or may not be picked up from this distance, and may or may not tell anything. He got a tape ready while he was in overdrive, with plenty of time for the job. My guess is that he'd take at least fifteen seconds to identify his s.h.i.+p, give her code number, her skipper, and such things. I hope so....”

But for minutes he was irresolute. He'd send his own minutely detailed report back to Glamis on the second captured s.h.i.+p. He did not need to return to report in person. He hadn't yet sent back provisions enough for the intended voyage of the fleet. The solar system of Mekin was an especially well-stocked hunting-ground for such marauders as Bors and his crew declared themselves to be--so long as word did not get to ground on Mekin.

But it did not get down. From time to time--at intervals of a few hours--specks appeared in emptiness. Mekin monopolized the off-planet trade of its satellite world. There would be many times the s.p.a.ce-traffic here that would be found off any other planet in the Mekinese empire.

One s.h.i.+p got to ground unchallenged. By pure accident it came out of overdrive within half a million miles of Mekin. To have attacked it would have been noted. But he got two more cargo-s.h.i.+ps. Then he found the _Horus_ alongside a pa.s.senger-s.h.i.+p. But it couldn't be allowed to ground, to report that it had been stopped by an armed s.h.i.+p. A prize-crew took it off to Glamis.

Bors made a formal announcement to his crew. ”I think,” he told them over the all-speaker circuit, ”that we got the s.h.i.+p which could have reported our action off Meriden. I'm sure we've sent four s.h.i.+ploads of food back to the fleet, besides the pa.s.senger-s.h.i.+p we'd rather have missed. But there's still something to be done. To confuse Mekin and keep it busy, and therefore off Kandar's neck, we have to start trouble elsewhere. From now on we are pirates pure and simple.”