Dirk Wylie

“ His voice was taut as he spoke. "It's your ship, Woller, but I'm taking it over. Woller—Alan Woller—look at me. Do you know who I am?"
Woller stared deep into the icy eyes confronting him. The doubt flared again in his own. His jaw dropped slack. His brows lifted and he whispered, "Nolan!"
Nolan didn't bother to nod. He said grimly, "Your hands—hold them where they are. You, too, Vincennes. I've come a long way for this and I don't mind killing. You taught me that, Woller. A man's life is nothing. ”

“ Recovering from the shock of the skid's arrival it began to prepare for motion again. The head poked out toward the skid on a long, scrawny neck, examined it minutely. The big carapace shivered and rose slightly off the ground as the multitude of tiny legs took up the task of carrying it forward.
Nolan stood motionless. The creature moved ponderously toward him, ignoring him. In the dull mind of the creature an object as tiny as a man was nothing. Even the skid was merely another sort of boulder, against which it could lean, send it hurtling over to destruction, out of its way. ”

“ Are you willing to pay that much for your life, Woller?"
Woller's lips were stiff but he forced the words through. "Go to hell."
Nolan nodded, and the deadly weariness settled down over him again. "I see your point, of course," he said slowly. "Tri-planet doesn't come out here much and a man is reasonably safe from them. But you, Woller—power's your life blood. And a man on the run can't have much power. I know."
His finger curled on the trigger of the pyro and Woller, staring avidly, desperately, whitened at the mouth. ”

“ And a tiny voice within his helmet said, "Don't move, Nolan. You can't get away now. You'll die if you try. Next time you play hide-and-seek with me, Nolan—don't leave your helmet radio on!"
If Woller had burned with rage before, now he was frozen. He was a blind man there before Nolan, his eyes swathed in thick white bandages. But the hulking Earthman with the pyro who stood by his side, and lean black Captain Vincennes at the controls, were eyes enough for him. ”

“ It is not pleasant to see a strong man try to shriek in agony, and fail because the air has bubbled from his lungs.
The outer door of the skid was open, and the impostor trotted in. When Nolan was beside him he leaned on the lock control. Ever so slowly, the outer door closed; slowly the inner opened.
They burst into a chamber where a man was just rising from a telescreen, face contorted with consternation and hate, hand bringing up a pyro from a drawer in the chart table. ”

“ Woller could die before him now, and he would be avenged. But Woller alive could say the words that would wipe out the banishment, would return him to the green star that was home. Woller could be made to confess—
"I ought to blast you now," he said in a soft, chill tone that was like a whip to Woller, jerking him upright. "I ought to, and I will if I must. But you can live if you want to."
Woller was licking his lips, his face a mask, only his panic-stricken eyes alive.
"You can live," Nolan repeated. "A full statement about the Junta frame, in writing. ”

“ The wrinkled little man always sat in the noisiest spot he could find. This time it was a table right behind the four-piece orchestra, pride of the proprietor's heart.
Nolan stood silently for a moment behind the little man's chair to watch the play. He marveled at the ease with which Petersen's gnarled fingers handled the flying pasteboards. As usual, Petersen's pile of chips was low, and the set of his back was discouraged.
Nolan grinned. It was part of Petersen's stock-in-trade to look like the tail end of a losing streak. The sucker trade stays away from a winning gambler. ”

“ Clogged feeders, Nolan thought as he felt the uneven vibrations. If he doesn't watch out he'll have a backblast.
The skid faltered past him, no faster than he could run. He looked away from the incandescent flare of the one tail jet, then that stopped too. Tall as a man, a dozen feet long, the skid lay waiting on the trail.
Waiting for Steve Nolan?
Anything was better than walking. Nolan walked up to the skid, not fast, and kicked solidly at the entrance. ”

“ Nolan grimaced and nodded. He picked his way over the jolting floor, blaster out, to the threshold. His groping hand encountered the lume switch, flooded the cargo hatch with light. It was almost empty. A few crates, the long casket-like object he had seen in the ship. Nothing behind which a man could hide.
Nolan turned to see the masquerader unzipping the folds of his heat suit with one hand while he guided the careening skid with the other. ”

“ Nolan shivered, and absently turned up the heat control of his suit. He felt suddenly hopeless. One man against—what? His thoughts, unbidden, reverted to the girl he had left in Avalon, and to the sordid fear that she might be what she seemed. Nolan's cheek muscles drew tight, and his face hardened. Woller, partly protected by his heat suit, undoubtedly had lived through the instant inferno when the pyro charge went off. ”

“ The ungainly skid shuddered, then drove forward. The stranger opened all jets to the limits of their power. Creaking and groaning, the skid responded. The dial of the speed indicator showed mounting acceleration, far beyond what the ship was designed for.
Nolan, clinging with one arm to a floor-bolted chair, threw back his helmet and yelled: "I'm ready any time! What's the story? Who the devil are you?" ”

“ Vincennes said. "Pickle him in a sleep-box like—"
"Be still, Vincennes!" Woller's voice was sharp. "I'll ask for advice when I want it!"
A sleep-box—Nolan remembered suddenly what they were. Small coffins, large enough for a man, equipped with an atomic-powered generator that kept the occupant in a sort of half-death, not breathing or able to move, but capable of existing almost indefinitely without food.
Nolan wondered absently what they were doing with sleep-boxes, then gave it up. It didn't matter. He cursed the carelessness that had led him to leave the radio on in his suit. ”

“ In a moment it would be gone!
"Damn!" yelled Nolan, to the sole detriment of his own eardrums. Already the slight amount of air in his suit was nearly used up. But as soon as the web reached full focus the Dragonfly would blast off and Woller would be beyond reach for a long time!
Nolan swore fervently, then sealed his writhing lips to save air. He set off in a slow, heavy trot for the shimmering spaceship. He was breathing pure carbon dioxide and staggering nicely by the time he pushed his way through the thickening resistance of the grav-web to the massive outer door of the lock. ”

“ Woller was saying, "is whether to blast you now or save you for a little later, when I'll have more time."
"Sure," said Nolan tonelessly. "If you want my vote, it's for now. Get it over with."
Woller nodded. "That would be much pleasanter for you. I think I'll save you." He nodded slowly. Then, to the mate, "Take him below!"
Back down the corridor, the mocking stars still bright through the crystal underfoot. Back and down, till they came to the gray room, where the pulsing, whining generators spun their web of anti-gravitational power. ”

“ The skid slewed crazily, its side crunching against the cliff as it halted.
"What the—" snarled Nolan, hand leaping to the concealed pyro he wore under his shirt. Then he saw.
Ahead of them was an immense rounded bulk, dome-shaped, black as the frozen night. A crawler ... but what a crawler! Its horny shell was half again the height of a man, filling the trail from cliff to chasm brink. There was no passing that beast. No wonder there had been no traffic from Avalon!
Mutely the girl turned to Nolan. He grinned sourly, then clambered into the heat suit he'd just put off. ”

“ Nolan nodded and entered, but his thoughts were racing.
Paint the panels! It would take the whole crew, and they'd never get it off. If they opaqued with paint the ship would be blind for weeks. The filter shutters—great strips of polarized colloid—were the only solution to the problem of keeping out the worst of the sun's dread radiations, but admitting enough light to guide the ship. But they had to be put on externally, before the ship took off. Mars? This ship, ports transparent as they were, would never dare approach the sun's blinding energies closer than Jupiter! ”

“ The girl—the one from the skid, the one he'd encountered in Annihilation Range! She had no more of a look at him than he at her, and she had been sleep-dazed, staring up at the light. Perhaps she hadn't recognized him—
"Hold still," he hissed—there is no personality to a whisper. "Where's Alan Woller?"
"Who are you?" the girl's voice came, a trifle unsteady. Good—she hadn't recognized him!
Nolan laughed voicelessly. "I'm the man with the gun," he replied. "I ask the questions. Where's Woller?" ”

“ A voice said sharply:
"Attention, Junta! The man who claims to be the Chief is a masquerader. Kill him! This is the Chief speaking now!"
V
Doubt sprang into the eyes of every man present. It lasted only a second—for the masquerader's action proved the charge against him.
He grappled the pyro from dazed Vincennes, sprang back, fired a warning blast that smashed the telescreen.
"Don't move, anybody!" he ordered. "Nolan—take their guns!" ”

“ The destruction of the dome was complete.
Nolan turned away. "Quite a sight," he said slowly. "They deserved to die, of course...."
"Steve."
Nolan's eyes narrowed suddenly. He looked at Petersen. "Yes?"
Petersen, for once, seemed almost at a loss for words. He licked his lips before he spoke. "Steve—there are one or two other things. Did you know that Ailse wasn't Woller's daughter by blood?"
Nolan looked at him unbelievingly. "Not his daughter?"
Petersen shook his head. "Woller married a widow. A wealthy one, with a daughter. They didn't get along too well. The woman died. ”

“ Talk is there are Junta men around. I wouldn't have to remind you, I guess, of what Woller can say about you if he sees you."
Nolan nodded. "He won't see me—in time for it to do him any good."
Petersen shivered. "You're building up trouble," he repeated. "Woller's pretty near running this place."
"'A louse,'" Nolan quoted, "'enthroned in luxury, will still a loathsome insect be.' That's Woller."
Petersen's wizened little troll-face gaped at him. "Lice bite," he said succinctly.
Nolan said soberly, "Live ones do. After tonight Woller may not be able to bite anybody. Dead lice have no friends." ”

“ Nolan asked curiously.
"You'll need money," said Petersen. He finished unbuckling and dragged out an oiled-silk money belt. Without opening it, he tossed it to Nolan. "Here. You'll have to bid high to get passage on Woller's ship. This'll help."
Nolan nodded. "Thanks," he said. "Look, I—"
Petersen waved a hand airily. "Forget it. As long as there's enough radium on Pluto for prospectors to find, I'll have plenty money."
"Sure," said Nolan. "But the thanks still goes." He closed his eyes for a second, rubbed them. Then he blinked rapidly, took out his pyro and checked it. ”

“ A dim thread of light showed him the door to the hall. Catlike he crossed to it, then halted, petrified. Men were coming down the hall, several of them by the voices. He caught a snatch of a rasping complaint: "Old man Woller's tin soldiers, that's us. Who the hell does he—"
Nolan swore lividly under his breath. The end of the trail had come.
But he stepped back a pace and stood there, pyro up-tilted and ready. He would have a split-second's advantage. If only there were no more than two or three of them—
And then the sound was drowned out. ”

“ Steve Nolan was three years dead, pyro-burned in the black space off Luna when a prison break failed. But Nolan had a job to do. Nolan came back.
Where the Avalon Trail bends across Annihilation Range, a thousand icy miles from Pluto's northern stem, Nolan stopped and closed the intake valve of his helmet. Count five seconds, and he unhooked the exhausted tank of oxygen; count ten more and it was spinning away, end over end over Pluto's frozen surface, and a new tank was already in place. He slipped the pressure valve and inhaled deeply of the new air. ”

“ The mirror-faced helmet bobbed as its owner nodded. Then it turned toward Nolan. "What's this?" he asked, advancing.
Vincennes gestured with the pyro. "His name is Nolan," he said. "He tried to get rough with Mr. Woller. He's dangerous."
"Dangerous!" The blurred voice was angry. "Then why is he here? We have enough danger as it is. Give me that pyro!"
This was it, Nolan knew, and he tensed his body for the leap he had to attempt, though he knew it was useless. The man in the heat suit reached for Vincennes' pyro. ”

“ Nolan sighed. "Lady, I don't know you either. Believe me, all I want is a ride. It'll take me four hours to walk to Avalon. I can't spare the time if I can help it." He waited a second. No answer. He shrugged and finished his speech. "I'll make you a proposition. Let me in and I'll fix your jets. We'll be in Avalon in twenty minutes, I'll get out and we'll never see each other again. Don't let me in and I'll tear these ignition wires right out of the lock. ”