Pariah Planet Part 18

"_Chee!_" he said indignantly. "_Chee! Chee!_"

"No," said Calhoun, "we'll be crowded enough anyhow. We'll see her later."

He nodded to one of the first four student pilots, and he crisply made contact with the landing-grid office. He very efficiently supervised as the grid took the s.h.i.+p up. The other three of the four first-trained men explained every move to sub-cla.s.ses a.s.signed to each. Calhoun moved about, listening and making certain that the instruction was up to standard.

He felt queer, acting as the supervisor of an educational inst.i.tution in s.p.a.ce. He did not like it. There were twenty-four men beside himself crowded into the Med s.h.i.+p's small interior. They got in each other's way. They trampled on each other. There was always somebody eating, and always somebody sleeping, and there was no need whatever for the background tape to keep the s.h.i.+p from being intolerably quiet. But the air-system worked well enough, except once when the reheater unit quit and the air inside the s.h.i.+p went down below freezing before the trouble could be found and corrected.

The journey to Weald, this time, took seven days because of the training program in effect. Calhoun bit his nails over the delay. But it was necessary for each of the students to make his own line-ups on Weald's sun, and compute distances, and for each of them to practise maneuverings that would presently be called for. Calhoun hoped desperately that preparations for active warfare--or ma.s.sacre--did not move fast on Weald. He believed, however, that in the absence of direct news from Dara, Wealdian officials would take the normal course of politicos. They had proclaimed the deaths.h.i.+p from Orede an attack from Dara. Therefore they would specialize on defensive measures before plumping for offense. They'd get patrol-s.h.i.+ps out to spot invasion s.h.i.+ps long before they worked on a fleet to destroy the blueskins. It would meet the public demand for defense.

Calhoun was right. The Med s.h.i.+p made its final approach to Weald under Calhoun's own control. He'd made brightness-measurements on his previous journey and he used them again. They would not be strictly accurate, because a sunspot could knock all meaning out of any reading beyond two decimal places. But the first breakout was just far enough from the Wealdian system for Calhoun to be able to pick out its planets with electron telescope at maximum magnification. He could aim for Weald itself,--allowing, of course, for the lag in the apparent motion of its image because of the limited speed of light. He tried the briefest of overdrive hops, and came out within the solar system and well inside any watching patrol.

That was pure fortune. It continued. He'd broken through the screen of guard-s.h.i.+ps in undetectable overdrive. He was within half an hour's solar-system drive of the grain-fleet. There was no alarm, at first. Of course radars spotted the Med s.h.i.+p as an object, but n.o.body paid attention. It was not headed for Weald. It was probably a.s.sumed to be a guard-boat itself. Such mistakes do happen. It reached the grain-fleet.

Again from the storage-s.p.a.ce from which supplies had been removed, Calhoun produced vacuum suits. The four first students went out, each escorting a less-accustomed neophyte and all fastened firmly together with s.p.a.ce-ropes. They warmed the interiors of four s.h.i.+ps and went on to others. Presently there were eight s.h.i.+ps making ready for an interstellar journey, each with a scared but resolute new pilot familiarizing himself with its controls. There were sixteen s.h.i.+ps.

Twenty. Twenty-three.

A guard-s.h.i.+p came humming out from Weald. It would be armed, of course.

It came droning, droning up the forty-odd thousand miles from the planet. Calhoun swore. He could not call his students and tell them what was happening. The guard-s.h.i.+p would overhear. He could not trust untried young men to act rationally if they were unwarned and the guard-s.h.i.+p arrived and matter-of-factly attempted to board one of them.

Then he was inspired. He called Murgatroyd, placed him before the communicator, and set it at voice-only transmission. This was familiar enough, to Murgatroyd. He'd often seen Calhoun use a communicator.

"_Chee!_" shrilled Murgatroyd. "_Chee-chee!_"

A startled voice came out of the speaker.

"_What's that?_"

"_Chee_," said Murgatroyd zestfully.

The communicator was talking to him. Murgatroyd adored three things in order. One was Calhoun. The second was coffee. The third was pretending to converse like a human being. The speaker said explosively;

"_You there, identify yourself!_"

"_Chee-chee-chee-chee!_" observed Murgatroyd. He wriggled with pleasure and added, reasonably enough, "_Chee!_"

The communicator bawled;

"_Calling ground! Calling ground! Listen to this! Something that ain't human's talking at me on a communicator! Listen in an' tell me what to do!_"

Murgatroyd interposed with another shrill;

"_Chee!_"

Then Calhoun pulled the Med s.h.i.+p slowly away from the clump of still-lifeless grain-s.h.i.+ps. It was highly improbable that the guard-boat would carry an electron telescope. Most likely it would have only an echo-radar, and so could determine only that an object of some sort moved of its own accord in s.p.a.ce. Calhoun let the Med s.h.i.+p accelerate.

That would be final evidence. The grain-s.h.i.+ps were between Weald and its sun. Even electron telescopes on the ground--and electron-telescopes were ultimately optical telescopes with electronic amplification--even electron telescopes on the ground could not get a good image of the s.h.i.+p through sunlit atmosphere.

"_Chee?_" asked Murgatroyd solicitously. "_Chee-chee-chee?_"

"_Is it blueskins?_" shakily demanded the voice from the guard-boat.

"_Ground! Ground! Is it blueskins?_"

A heavy, authoritative voice came in with much greater volume.

"_That's no human voice_," it said harshly. "_Approach its s.h.i.+p and send back an image. Don't fire first unless it heads for ground._"

The guard-s.h.i.+p swerved and headed for the Med s.h.i.+p. It was still a very long way off.

"_Chee-chee_," said Murgatroyd encouragingly.

Calhoun changed the Med s.h.i.+p's course. The guard-s.h.i.+p changed course too. Calhoun let it draw nearer,--but only a little. He led it away from the fleet of grain-s.h.i.+ps.

He swung his electron telescope on them. He saw a s.p.a.ce-suited figure outside one,--safely roped, however. It was easy to guess that someone had meant to return to the Med s.h.i.+p for orders or to make a report, and found the Med s.h.i.+p gone. He'd go back inside and turn on a communicator.

"_Chee!_" said Murgatroyd.

The heavy voice boomed;

"_You there! This is a human-occupied world! If you come in peace, cut your drive and let our guard-s.h.i.+p approach!_"

Murgatroyd replied in an interested but doubtful tone. The booming voice bellowed. Another voice of higher authority took over. Murgatroyd was entranced that so many people wanted to talk to him. He made what for him was practically an oration. The last voice spoke persuasively and suavely.

"_Chee-chee-chee-chee_," said Murgatroyd.

One of the grain-s.h.i.+ps flickered and ceased to be. It had gone into overdrive. Another. And another. Suddenly they began to flick out of sight by twos and threes.

"_Chee_," said Murgatroyd with a note of finality.

The last grain-s.h.i.+p vanished.

"Calling guard-s.h.i.+p," said Calhoun drily. "This is Med s.h.i.+p Aesclipus Twenty. I called here a couple of weeks ago. You've been talking to my _tormal_, Murgatroyd."

A pause. A blank pause. Then profanity of deep and savage intemperance.

"I've been on Dara," said Calhoun.

Dead silence fell.

"There's a famine there," said Calhoun deliberately. "So the grain-s.h.i.+ps you've had in orbit have been taken away by men from Dara--blueskins if you like--to feed themselves and their families. They've been dying of hunger and they don't like it."

There was a single burst of the unprintable. Then the formerly suave voice said waspishly;

"_Well? The Med Service will hear of your interference!_"

"Yes," said Calhoun. "I'll report it myself. I have a message for you.

Dara is ready to pay for every ounce of grain and for the s.h.i.+ps it was stored in. They'll pay in heavy metals,--iridium, uranium,--that sort of thing."