Part 27 (1/2)
That was as far as he got. She wrenched free, shoved clear of him. ”If you try that again, you will have another dislocated jaw.”
Temple shrugged wearily. If anything were to be resolved between them, it would be later.
When the s.h.i.+ps came moments afterwards--seven, not the five Arkalion predicted--they were completely unprepared.
Temple spotted them first on one of the viewing screens, half way between the receiver and the s.p.a.ce station itself, silhouetted against the elongated s.h.i.+eld of Andromeda. They soared out of the picture, appeared again minutes later, zooming in from the other direction in two flights of four s.h.i.+ps and three.
”Come on!” Sophia cried over her shoulder, irising the door and plunging from the room. Temple followed at her heels but her Jupiter trained muscles pushed her lithe legs in long, powerful strides and soon she outdistanced him. By the time he reached the armaments vault, breathless, she was seated at the single gun-emplacement, her fingers on the controls.
”Watch the viewing screen and tell me how we're doing,” Sophia told him, not taking her eyes from the dials and levers.
Temple watched, fascinated, saw a thin pencil of radiant energy leap out into s.p.a.ce, missing one of the s.h.i.+ps by what looked like a scant few miles. He called the corrective azimuth to her, hardly surprised by the way his mind had absorbed and now could use its new-found knowledge.
Temple understood and yet did not understand. For example, he knew the station had but one gun and Sophia sat at it now, yet in certain ways it didn't make sense. Could it cover all sectors of s.p.a.ce? His mind supplied the answer although he had not been aware of the knowledge an instant before: yes. The s.p.a.ce station did not merely rotate. Its surface was a spherical projection of a moving Moebius strip and although he tried to envision the concept, he failed. The weapon could be fired at any given point in s.p.a.ce at twenty second intervals, covering every other conceivable point in the ensuing time.
Sophia was firing again and Temple watched the thin beam leap across s.p.a.ce. ”Hit!” he roared. ”Hit!”
Something flashed at the front end of the lead s.h.i.+p. The light blinded him, but when he could see again only six s.h.i.+ps remained in s.p.a.ce--casting perfect shadows on the Andromeda Galaxy! The source of light, Temple realized triumphantly, was out of range, but he could picture it--a glowing derelict of a s.h.i.+p, spewing heat, light and radioactivity into the void.
”One down,” Sophia called. ”Six to go. I like your American expressions. Like sitting ducks--”
She did not finish. Abruptly, light flared all around them. Something shrieked in Temple's ears. The vault shuddered, shook. Girders clattered to the floor, stove it in, revealing black rock. Sophia was thrown back from the single gun, cras.h.i.+ng against the wall, flipping in air and landing on her stomach.
Temple ran to her, turned her over. Blood smeared her face, trickled from her lips. Although she did not move, she wasn't dead. Temple half dragged, half carried her from the vault into an adjoining room. He stretched her out comfortably as he could on the floor, ran back into the vault.
Molten metal had collected in one corner of the room, crept sluggishly toward him across the floor, heating it white-hot. He skirted it, climbed over a twisted girder, pushed his way past other debris, found himself at the gun emplacement.
”How dumb can I get?” Temple said aloud. ”Sophia ran to the gun, must have a.s.sumed I set up the s.h.i.+elds.” Again, it was an item of information stored in his mind by the wisdom of the s.p.a.ce station.
Protective s.h.i.+elds made it impossible for anything but a direct hit on the emplacement to do them any harm, only Temple had never set the s.h.i.+elds in place. He did so now, merely by tripping a series of levers, but glancing at a dial to his left he realized with alarm that the damage possibly had already been done. The needle, which measured lethal radiation, hovered half way between negative and the critical area marked in red and, even as Temple watched it, crept closer to the red.
How much time did he have? Temple could not be sure, bent grimly over the weapon. It was completely unfamiliar to his mind, completely unfamiliar to his fingers. He toyed with it, released a blast of radiant energy, whirled to face the viewing screen. The beam streaked out into the void, clearly hundreds of miles from its objective.
Cursing, Temple tried again, scoring a near miss. The s.h.i.+ps were trading a steady stream of fire with him now, but with the s.h.i.+elding up it was harmless, striking and then bouncing back into s.p.a.ce. Temple scored his first hit five minutes after sitting down at the gun, whooped triumphantly and fired again. Five s.h.i.+ps left.
But the dial indicated an increase in radioactivity as newly created neutrons spread their poison like a cancer. Behind Temple, the vault was a shambles. The pool of molten metal had increased in size, almost cutting off any possibility of escape. He could jump it now, Temple realized, but it might grow larger. Consolidating its gains now, it had sheared a pit in the floor, had commenced vaporizing the rock below it, hissing and lapping with white-hot insistence.
Something boomed, grated, boomed again and Temple watched another girder bounce off the floor, dip one end into the molten pool and clatter out a stub. Apparently the damage was extensive; a structural weakness threatened to make the entire ceiling go.
Temple fired again, got another s.h.i.+p. He could almost feel death breathing on his shoulder, in no great hurry but sure of its prize. He fired the weapon.
If one s.h.i.+p remained when they could no longer use the gun, they would have failed. One s.h.i.+p might make the difference for Earth. One....
Three left. Two.
They raked the s.p.a.ce station with blast after blast--futilely. They spun and twisted and streaked by, offering poor targets. Temple waited his chance ... and glanced at the dial which measured radioactivity.
He yelped, stood up. The needle had encroached upon the red area.
Death to remain where he was more than a moment or two. Not quick death, but rather slow and lingering. He could do what he had to, then perish hours later. His life--for Earth? If Arkalion had known all the answers, and if he could get both s.h.i.+ps and if there weren't another alternative for the aliens, the parasites.... Temple stabbed out with his pencil beam, caught the sixth s.h.i.+p, then saw the needle dip completely into the red. He got up trembling, stepped back, half tripped on the stump of a girder as his eyes strayed in fascination to the viewing screen. The seventh s.h.i.+p was out of range, hovering off in the void somewhere, awaiting its chance. If Temple left the gun the s.h.i.+p would come in close enough to hit the emplacement despite its protective s.h.i.+elding. Well, it was suicide to remain there--especially when the s.h.i.+p wasn't even in view.