Part 2 (2/2)

I wish he'd stop gnawing on that turkey leg, Rachmael said to himself.

. . . at the Omphalos Omphalos. Worked, while waiting for parts which would never come.

”We're off course,” Dosker said abruptly. Speaking not to Rachmael but into his console mike. s.h.i.+t; we've been phooed.”

Phooed-a trade term. Rachmael felt fear, because the word was a condensation of PU-picked up. Picked up by a field, and this one was moving Dosker's small flapple out of its trajectory. At once Dosker fired the huge Whetstone-Milton rockets, tried to rea.s.sert with their enormous strength homeo-course . . . but the field continued to tug, even against the millions of pounds of thrust of the twin engines, as both fired in unison, acting as retro-jets against the field exerting its presence unseen. But, on a variety of console instruments, registering.

Rachmael, after an interval of strained, wordless silence, said to Dosker, ”Where's it taking us?”

”From a Three to L course,” Dosker said laconically. He set down his turkey leg, now.

”Not to Luna, then.” They would not, the two of them, reach the Omphalos' Omphalos' place of berth; that was now clear. But- place of berth; that was now clear. But- Where instead?

”We're in T-orb,” Dosker said. Orbit around the Earth, despite the push of the two W-M engines. Dosker, now, reluctantly, in a motion of admitted defeat, cut them. Fuel for them had no doubt dropped to a dangerously low level: if the field let go they would orbit anyhow, orbit without the possibility of being capable of creating a trajectory that would lead to an ultimate landing either on Luna or or on Terra. ”They've got us,” Dosker said, then, half to Rachmael and half into the mike that projected from the s.h.i.+p's console. He recited a series of encoded instructions into the mike, listened, then cursed, said to Rachmael, ”We're cut off aud and vid, all signal-contact; I'm not getting through to Matson. So that's it.” on Terra. ”They've got us,” Dosker said, then, half to Rachmael and half into the mike that projected from the s.h.i.+p's console. He recited a series of encoded instructions into the mike, listened, then cursed, said to Rachmael, ”We're cut off aud and vid, all signal-contact; I'm not getting through to Matson. So that's it.”

”That's what?” Rachmael demanded. ”You mean we give up? We just orbit Terra forever and die when we run out of oxygen?” Was this the fight that Lies, Incorporated put up when faced by Trails of Hoffman? He, alone, had held out better; now he was disgusted, astonished and completely perplexed, and he watched without comprehension as Dosker inspected his bank of bug chasers bug chasers at his chest. At the moment the Lies, Incorporated pilot seemed interested only in whether or not monitors were picking them up-as well as controlling, externally, the trajectory of their s.h.i.+p. at his chest. At the moment the Lies, Incorporated pilot seemed interested only in whether or not monitors were picking them up-as well as controlling, externally, the trajectory of their s.h.i.+p.

Dosker said, ”No monitors. Look, friend ben Applebaum.” He spoke swiftly. ”They cut my transmission on aud by micro-relay to Matson's satellite, but of course-” His dark eyes glinted with amus.e.m.e.nt. ”I have on me a dead man's throttle; if a continuous signal from me is interrupted it automatically sets off an alarm at Lies, Incorporated, at its main offices in New New York and also at Matson's satellite. So by now they know something's happened.” He lowered his voice, speaking almost to himself alone. ”We'll have to wait to find out if they can get to us before it doesn't matter.”

The s.h.i.+p, without power, in orbit, glided silently.

And then, jarringly, something nosed it; Rachmael fell; sliding along the floor to the far wall he saw Dosker tumble, too, and knew that this had been the locking of another s.h.i.+p or similar device against them-knew and then all at once realized that at least it hadn't detonated. At least it had not been a missile. Because if it had- ”They could,” Dosker said, as he got unsteadily to his feet, ”have taken us out permanently.” By that he, too, meant a detonating weapon. He turned toward the tri-stage entrance hatch, used for null-atmosphere penetration.

The hatch, its circular seal-controls spun from impulses emanating outside, swung open.

Three men, two of them riffraff with lasers, with the decayed eyes of those who had been bought, hamstrung, lost long ago, came first. And then a clear-faced elegant man who would never be bought because he was a great buyer in the market of men; he was a dealer, not produce for sale.

It was Theodoric Ferry, chairman of the board of Trails of Hoffman Limited. Ahead of him his two employees swung a vacuum-cleaner-like mechanism; it searched, buzzing and nosing, probing until its operators were satisfied; they nodded to Theodoric, who then addressed Rachmael.

”May I seat myself?”

After a startled pause Rachmael said, ”Sure.”

”Sorry, Mr. Ferry,” Dosker said. ”The only seat is taken.” He sat at the control console in such a way that his small body had expanded at its base to fill both bucket seats; his face was hard and hating.

Shrugging, the large, white-haired man said, ”All right.” He eyed Dosker. ”You're Lies' top pilot, aren't you? Al Dosker . . . yes, I recognize you from the clips we've made of you. On your way to the Omphalos Omphalos. But you don't need Applebaum here to tell you where she is; we we can tell you.” Theodoric Ferry dug into his cloak, brought out a small packet which he tossed to Al Dosker. ”The locus of the dry-docks where Applebaum has got her.” can tell you.” Theodoric Ferry dug into his cloak, brought out a small packet which he tossed to Al Dosker. ”The locus of the dry-docks where Applebaum has got her.”

”Thanks, Mr. Ferry,” Dosker said with sarcasm so great that his voice was almost forged into incomprehensibility.

Theodoric said, ”Now look, Dosker; you sit quietly and mind your own business. While I talk to Applebaum. I've never met him personally, but I knew his very-much-missed late father.” He extended his hand.

Dosker said, ”If you shake with him, Rachmael, he'll deposit a virus contamination that'll produce liver toxicity within your system inside an hour.”

Glowering, Theodoric said to the Negro, ”I asked you to stay in your place. A pun.” He then removed the membrane-like, up-to-now invisible glove of plastic which covered his hand. So Dosker had been right, Rachmael realized as he watched Theodoric carefully deposit the glove in the s.h.i.+p's incinerating disposal-chute. ”Anyhow, ” Theodoric said, almost plaintively, ”we could have squirted feral airborne bacteria around by now.”

”And taken out yourselves,” Dosker pointed out.

Theodoric shrugged. Then, speaking carefully to Rachmael, he said, ”I respect what you're trying to do. Don't laugh.”

”I was not,” Rachmael said, ”laughing. Just surprised.”

”You want to keep functioning, after the economic collapse; you want to keep your legitimate creditors from attaching the few- actually sole-a.s.set that Applebaum Enterprise still possesses- good for you, Rachmael. I'd have done the same. And you impressed Matson; that's why he's supplying you his only decent pilot.”

With a mild grin, Dosker reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarillos; at once the two decayed-eyed men accompanying Theodoric caught his arm, expertly manipulated it-the harmless pack of cigarillos fell to the floor of the s.h.i.+p.

One after another, the cigarillos were cut open by Theodoric's men, inspected . . . the fifth one turned out to be hard; it did not yield to the sharp-bladed pocket knife, and, a moment later, a more complex a.n.a.lytical device showed the cigarillo to be a homeostatic cephalotropic dart.

”Whose Alpha-wave pattern?” Theodoric Ferry asked Dosker.

”Yours,” Dosker said tonelessly. He watched without affect as the two decayed-eyed but very expert employees of THL crushed the dart under heel, rendering it useless.

”Then you expected me,” Ferry said, looking a little nonplussed.

Dosker said, ”Mr. Ferry, I always always expect you.” expect you.”

Returning once more to Rachmael, Theodoric Ferry said, ”I admire you and I want to terminate this conflict between you and THL. We have an inventory of your a.s.sets. Here.” He extended a sheet toward Rachmael; at that, Rachmael turned toward Dosker for advice.

”Take it,” Dosker said.

Accepting the sheet, Rachmael scanned it. The inventory was accurate; these did const.i.tute the slight totality of the remaining a.s.sets of Applebaum Enterprise. And-glaringly, as Ferry had said, the only item of any authentic value was the Omphalos Omphalos herself, the great liner plus the repair and maintenance facilities of Luna which now, hive-like, surrounded and checked her as she waited futilely . . . he returned the inventory to Ferry, who, seeing his expression, nodded. herself, the great liner plus the repair and maintenance facilities of Luna which now, hive-like, surrounded and checked her as she waited futilely . . . he returned the inventory to Ferry, who, seeing his expression, nodded.

”We agree, then,” Theodoric Ferry said. ”Okay. Here's what I propose, Applebaum. You can keep the Omphalos Omphalos. I'll instruct my legal staff to withdraw the writ to the UN courts demanding that the Omphalos Omphalos be placed under a state of attachment.” be placed under a state of attachment.”

Dosker, startled, grunted; Rachmael stared at Ferry.

”What,” Rachmael said, then, ”in return?”

”This. That the Omphalos Omphalos never leave the Sol system. You can very readily develop a profitable operation transporting pa.s.sengers and cargo between the nine planets and to Luna. Despite the fact-” never leave the Sol system. You can very readily develop a profitable operation transporting pa.s.sengers and cargo between the nine planets and to Luna. Despite the fact-”

”Despite the fact,” Rachmael said, ”that the Omphalos Omphalos was built as an inter-stellar carrier, not inter-plan. It's like using-” was built as an inter-stellar carrier, not inter-plan. It's like using-”

”It's that,” Ferry said, ”or lose the Omphalos Omphalos to us.” to us.”

”So Rachmael agrees”-Dosker spoke up-”not to take the Omphalos Omphalos to Fomalhaut. The written agreement won't mention any one particular star system, but it's not Prox and not Alpha. Right, Ferry?” to Fomalhaut. The written agreement won't mention any one particular star system, but it's not Prox and not Alpha. Right, Ferry?”

After a pause Theodoric Ferry said, ”Take it or leave it.”

Rachmael said, ”Why, Mr. Ferry? What's wrong at Whale's What's wrong at Whale's Mouth Mouth? This deal-it proves I'm right.” That was obvious; he saw it, Dosker saw it-and Ferry must have known that in making it he was ratifying their intimations. Limit the Omphalos Omphalos to the nine planets of the Sol system? And yet-the corporation Applebaum Enterprise, as Ferry said, to the nine planets of the Sol system? And yet-the corporation Applebaum Enterprise, as Ferry said, would continue would continue; it would live on as a legal, economic ent.i.ty. And Ferry would see that the UN turned a certain amount, an acceptable quant.i.ty, of commerce its way. Rachmael would wave goodbye to Lies, Incorporated, to first this small dark superior s.p.a.ce pilot, and then, by extension, to Freya Holm, to Matson Glazer-Holliday, cut in effect himself off from the sole power which had chosen to back him.

”Go ahead,” Dosker said. ”Accept the idea. After all, the deep-sleep components won't arrive, but it won't matter, because you're not going into 'tween system s.p.a.ce anyhow.” He looked tired.

Theodoric Ferry said, ”Your father, Rachmael; Maury would have done anything to keep the Omphalos Omphalos. You know in two days we'll have her-and once we do, there's no chance you'll ever get her back. Think about it.”

”I-know right now,” Rachmael said. Lord, if he and Dosker had managed to get the Omphalos Omphalos out tonight, lost her in s.p.a.ce where THL couldn't find her . . . and yet that was already over; it had ended when the field had overcome the enormous futile thrust of the twin engines of Dosker's Lies, Incorporated s.h.i.+p: Trails of Hoffman had stepped in too soon. In time. out tonight, lost her in s.p.a.ce where THL couldn't find her . . . and yet that was already over; it had ended when the field had overcome the enormous futile thrust of the twin engines of Dosker's Lies, Incorporated s.h.i.+p: Trails of Hoffman had stepped in too soon. In time.

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