Part 19 (1/2)

”_You there!_” boomed a voice with deafening volume. ”_You're in our clear-s.p.a.ce! Sheer off!_”

The volume of a signal in s.p.a.ce varies as the square of the distance.

This voice was thunderous. It came apparently from a nearby, pot-bellied tripper s.h.i.+p of really ancient vintage. Rows of ports in its sides had been welded over. It had rocket tubes whose size was indicative of the kind of long-obsolete fuel on which it once had operated. Slenderer nozzles peered out of the original ones now. It had been adapted to modern propellants by simply welding modern rockets inside the old ones.

It was only half a mile away.

Hoddan's s.p.a.ceboat floated on. The relative position of the two s.h.i.+ps changed slowly. Another voice said indignantly:

”_That's the same thing that missed us by less than a mile! You, there!

Stop acting like a squig! Get on your own course!_”

A third voice;

”_What boat's that? I don't recognize it! I thought I knew all the freaks in this fleet, too!_”

A fourth voice said sharply:

”_That's not one of us! Look at the design! That's not us!_”

Other voices broke in. There was babbling. Then a harsh voice roared:

”_Quiet! I order it!_” There was silence. The harsh voice said heavily, ”_Relay the image to me._” There was a pause. The same voice said grimly: ”_It is not of our fleet. You, stranger! Identify yourself! Who are you and why do you slip secretly among us?_”

Hoddan pushed the transmit b.u.t.ton.

”My name is Bron Hoddan,” he said. ”I came up to find out why three s.h.i.+ps, and then nine s.h.i.+ps, went into orbit around Darth. It was somewhat alarming. Our landing grid's disabled, anyhow, and it seemed wisest to look you over before we communicated and possibly told you something you might not believe. But you surely don't expect to land all this fleet! Actually, we can't land any.”

The harsh voice said as grimly as before:

”_You come from the planet below us? Darth? Why is your s.h.i.+p so small?

The smallest of ours is greater._”

”This is a lifeboat,” said Hoddan pleasantly. ”It's supposed to be carried on larger s.h.i.+ps in case of emergency.”

”_If you will come to our leading s.h.i.+p_,” said the voice, ”_we will answer all your questions. I will have a smoke flare set off to guide you._”

Hoddan said to himself:

”No threats and no offers. I can guess why there are no threats. But they should offer something!”

He waited. There was a sudden huge eruption of vapor in s.p.a.ce some two hundred miles away. Perhaps an ounce of explosive had been introduced into a rocket tube and fired. The smoke particles, naturally ionized, added their self-repulsion to the expansiveness of the explosive's gases. A cauliflowerlike shape of filmy whiteness appeared and grew larger and thinner.

Hoddan drove toward the spot with very light touches of rocket power. He swung the boat around and killed its relative velocity. The leading s.h.i.+p was a sort of gigantic, shapeless, utterly preposterous ark-like thing.

Hoddan could neither imagine a purpose for which it could have been used, nor a time when men would have built anything like it. Its huge sides seemed to be made exclusively of great doorways now tightly closed.

One of those doorways suddenly gaped wide. It would have admitted a good-sized modern s.h.i.+p. A nervous voice essayed to give Hoddan directions for getting the s.p.a.ceboat inside what was plainly an enormous hold now pumped empty of air. He grunted and made the attempt. It was tricky. He sweated when he cut off his power. But he felt fairly safe.

Rocket flames would burn down such a door, if necessary. He could work havoc if hostilities began.