Industrial Revolution Page 6

let him play around with his suicide blonde," Avis saidfuriously. "We others have work to do. I ... I'll tell you what,Jimmy. Let's not eat in the mess tonight. I'll draw our rations andfix us something special in your cabin."

  * * * * *

  A scooter was not exactly the ideal steed for a knight to convey hislady. It amounted to little more than three saddles and a locker, setatop an accumulator-powered gyrogravitic engine, sufficient to liftyou off an asteroid and run at low acceleration. There were nonavigating instruments. You locked the autopilot's radar-graviticsensors onto your target object and it took you there, avoiding anybits of debris which might pass near; but you must watch the distanceindicator and press the deceleration switch in time. If the 'pilot wasturned off, free maneuver became possible, but that was a dangerousthing to try before you were almost on top of your destination.Stereoscopic vision fails beyond six or seven meters, and the humanorganism isn't equipped to gauge cosmic momenta.

  Nevertheless, Ellen was enchanted. "This is like a dream," her voicemurmured in Blades' earplug. "The whole universe, on every side of us.I could almost reach out and pluck those stars."

  "You must have trained in powered spacesuits at the Academy," he saidfor lack of a more poetic rejoinder.

  "Yes, but that's not the same. We had to stay near Luna's night side,to be safe from solar particles, and it bit a great chunk out of thesky. And then everything was so--regulated, disciplined--we did whatwe were ordered to do, and that was that. Here I feel free. You can'timagine how free." Hastily: "Do you use this machine often?"

  "Well, yes, we have about twenty scooters at the Station. They're themost convenient way of flitting with a load: out to the mirrors tochange accumulators, for instance, or across to one of the companionrocks where we're digging some ores that the Sword doesn't have. Thatkind of work." Blades would frankly rather have had her behind him ona motorskimmer, hanging on as they careened through a springtimecountryside. He was glad when they reached the main forward air lockand debarked.

  He was still gladder when the suits were off. Lieutenant Ziska indress uniform was stunning, but Ellen in civvies, a fluffy low-cutblouse and close-fitting slacks, was a hydrogen blast. He wanted toroll over and pant, but settled for saying, "Welcome back" and holdingher hand rather longer than necessary.

  With a shy smile, she gave him a package. "I drew this beforeleaving," she said. "I thought, well, your life is so austere--"

  "A demi of Sandeman," he said reverently. "I won't tell you youshouldn't have, but I will tell you you're a sweet girl."

  "No, really." She flushed. "After we've put you to so much trouble."

  "Let's go crack this," he said. "The _Pallas_ has called in, but shewon't be visible for a while yet."

  * * * * *

  They made their way to the verandah, picking up a couple of glassesenroute. Bless his envious heart, Jimmy had warned the other boys offas requested. _I hope Avis cooks him a Cordon Bleu dinner_, Bladesthought. _Nice kid, Avis, if she'd quit trying to ... what? ... motherme?_ He forgot about her, with Ellen to seat by the rail.

  The Milky Way turned her hair frosty and glowed in her eyes. Bladespoured the port with much ceremony and raised his glass. "Here's toyour frequent return," he said.

  Her pleasure dwindled a bit. "I don't know if I should drink to that.We aren't likely to be back, ever."

  "Drink anyway. Gling, glang, gloria!" The rims tinkled together."After all," said Blades, "this isn't the whole universe. We'll bothbe getting around. See you on Luna?"

  "Maybe."

  He wondered if he was pushing matters too hard. She didn't look atease. "Oh, well," he said, "if nothing else, this has been a grandbreak in the monotony for us. I don't wish the Navy ill, but iftrouble had to develop, I'm thankful it developed here."

  "Yes--"

  "How's the repair work progressing? Slowly, I hope."

  "I don't know."

  "You should have some idea, being in QM."

  "No supplies have been drawn."

  Blades stiffened.

  "What's the matter?" Ellen sounded alarmed.

  "Huh?" _A fine conspirator I make, if she can see my emotions on me inneon capitals!_ "Nothing. Nothing. It just seemed a little strange,you know. Not taking any replacement units."

  "I understand the work is only a matter of making certainadjustments."

  "Then they should've finished a lot quicker, shouldn't they?"

  "Please," she said unhappily. "Let's not talk about it. I mean, thereare such things as security regulations."

  Blades gave up on that tack. But Chung's idea might be worth probing alittle. "Sure," he said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." He tookanother sip as he hunted for suitable words. A beautiful girl, agolden wine ... and vice versa ... why couldn't he simply relax andenjoy himself? Did he have to go fretting about what was probably aperfectly harmless conundrum?... Yes. However, recreation might stillcombine with business.

  "Permit me to daydream," he said, leaning close to her. "The Navy'sgoing to establish a new base here, and the _Altair_ will be assignedto it."

  "Daydream indeed!" she laughed, relieved to get back to a mereflirtation. "Ever hear about the Convention of Vesta?"

  "Treaties can be renegotiated," Blades plagiarized.

  "What do we need an extra base for? Especially since the governmentplans to spend such large sums on social welfare. They certainly don'twant to start an arms race besides."

  * * * * *

  Blades nodded. _Jimmy's notion did seem pretty thin_, he thought witha slight chill, _and now I guess it's completely whiffed._ Mostly tokeep the conversation going, he shrugged and said, "My partner--andme, too, aside from the privilege of your company--wouldn't havewanted it anyhow. Not that we're unpatriotic, but there are plenty ofother potential bases, and we'd rather keep government agencies out ofhere."

  "Can you, these days?"

  "Pretty much. We're under a new type of charter, as a privatepartnership. The first such charter in the Belt, as far as I know,though there'll be more in the future. The Bank of Ceres financed us.We haven't taken a nickel of federal money."

  "Is that possible?"

  "Just barely. I'm no economist, but I can see how it works. Moneyrepresents goods and labor. Hitherto those have been in mighty shortsupply out here. Government subsidies made up the difference, enablingus to buy from Earth. But now the asterites have built up enoughpopulation and industry that they have some capital surplus of theirown, to invest in projects like this."

  "Even so, frankly, I'm surprised that two men by themselves could getsuch a loan. It must be huge. Wouldn't the bank rather have lent themoney to some corporation?"

  "To tell the truth, we have friends who pulled wires for us. Also, itwas done partly on ideological grounds. A lot of asterites would liketo see more strictly home-grown enterprises, not committed to anyoneon Earth. That's the only way we can grow. Otherwise our profits--ournet production, that is--will continue to be siphoned off for themother country's benefit."

  "Well," Ellen said with some indignation, "that was the whole reasonfor planting asteroid colonies. You can't expect us to set you up inbusiness, at enormous cost to ourselves--things we might have done athome--and get nothing but 'Ta' in return."

  "Never fear, we'll repay you with interest," Blades said. "Butwhatever we make from our own work, over and above that, ought to stayhere with us."

  She grew angrier. "Your kind of attitude is what provoked the votersto elect Social Justice candidates."

  "Nice name, that," mused Blades. "Who can be against social justice?But you know, I think I'll go into politics myself. I'll organize theNorth American Motherhood Party."

  "You wouldn't be so flippant if you'd go see how people have to liveback there."

  "As bad as here? _Whew!_"

  "Nonsense. You know that isn't true. But bad enough. And you aren'tgoing to stick in these conditions. Only a few hours ago, you w
erebragging about the millions you intend to make."

  "Millions _and_ millions, if my strength holds out," leered Blades,thinking of the alley in Aresopolis. But he decided that that was thenand Ellen was now, and what had started as a promising little partywas turning into a dismal argument about politics.

  "Let's not fight," he said. "We've got different orientations, and we'donly make each other mad. Let's discuss our next bottle instead ... at theCoq d'Or in Paris, shall we say? Or Morraine's in New York."

  She calmed down, but her look remained troubled. "You're right, we aredifferent," she said low. "Isolated, living and working underconditions we can hardly imagine on Earth--and you can't reallyimagine our problems--yes, you're becoming another people. I hope itwill never go so far that--No. I don't want to think about it." Shedrained her glass and held it out for a refill, smiling. "Very well,sir, when do you next plan to be in Paris?"

  * * * * *

  An exceedingly enjoyable while later, the time came to go watch the_Pallas Castle_ maneuver in. In fact, it had somehow gotten past thattime, and they were late; but they didn't hurry their walk aft. Bladestook Ellen's hand; and she raised no objection. Schoolboyish, nodoubt--however, he had reached the reluctant conclusion that for allhis dishonorable intentions, this affair wasn't likely to go beyondthe schoolboy stage. Not that he wouldn't keep trying.

  As they glided through the refining and synthesizing section, whichfilled the broad half of the asteroid, the noise of pumps andregulators rose until it throbbed in their bones. Ellen gestured atone of the pipes which crossed the corridor overhead. "Do you reallyhandle that big a volume at a time?" she asked above the racket.

  "No," he said. "Didn't I explain before? The pipe's thick because it'sso heavily armored."

  "I'm glad you don't use that dreadful word 'cladded.' But why thearmor? High pressure?"

  "Partly. Also, there's an inertrans lining. Jupiter gas is hellishlyreactive at room temperature. The metallic complexes especially; butthink what a witch's brew the stuff is in every respect. Once it'sbeen refined, of course, we have less trouble. That particular pipe iscarrying it raw."

  They left the noise behind and passed on to the approach control domeat the receptor end. The two men on duty glanced up and immediatelywent back to their instruments. Radio voices were staccato in the air.Blades led Ellen to an observation port.

  She drew a sharp breath. Outside, the broken ground fell away to spaceand the stars. The ovoid that was the ship hung against them, lit bythe hidden sun, a giant even at her distance but dwarfed by theballoon she towed. As that bubble tried ponderously to rotate, rainbowgleams ran across it, hiding and then revealing the constellations.Here, on the asteroid's axis, there was no weight, and one moved withunderwater smoothness, as if disembodied. "Oh, a fairy tale," Ellensighed.

  Four sparks flashed out of the boat blisters along the ship's hull."Scoopships," Blades told her. "They haul the cargo in, being so muchmore maneuverable. Actually, though, the mother vessel is going topark her load in orbit, while those boys bring in another one ... see,there it comes into sight. We still haven't got the capacity to keepup with our deliveries."

  "How many are there? Scoopships, that is."

  "Twenty, but you don't need more than four for this job. They've gotterrific power. Have to, if they're to dive from orbit down into theJovian atmosphere, ram themselves full of gas, and come back. Therethey go."

  The _Pallas Castle_ was wrestling the great sphere she had hauled fromJupiter into a stable path computed by Central Control. Meanwhile thescoopships, small only by comparison with her, locked onto the otherballoon as it drifted close. Energy poured into their drive fields.Spiraling downward, transparent globe and four laboring spacecraftvanished behind the horizon. The _Pallas_ completed her own task,disengaged her towbars, and dropped from view, headed for the dock.

  The second balloon rose again, like a huge glass moon on the oppositeside of the Sword. Still it grew in Ellen's eyes, kilometer bykilometer of approach. So much mass wasn't easily handled, but thebraking curve looked disdainfully smooth. Presently she could make outthe scoopships in detail, elongated teardrops with the intake gatesyawning in the blunt forward end, cockpit canopies raised veryslightly above.

  Instructions rattled from the men in the dome. The balloon veeredclumsily toward the one free receptor. A derricklike structurereleased one end of a cable, which streamed skyward. Things that Ellencouldn't quite follow in this tricky light were done by the four tugs,mechanisms of their own extended to make their tow fast to the cable.

  They did not cast loose at once, but continued to drag a little,easing the impact of centrifugal force. Nonetheless a slight shudderwent through the dome as slack was taken up. Then the job was over.The scoopships let go and flitted off to join their mother vessel. Theballoon was winched inward. Spacesuited men moved close, preparing tocouple valves together.

  "And eventually," Blades said into the abrupt quietness, "that cargowill become food, fabric, vitryl, plastiboard, reagents, fuels, ahundred different things. That's what we're here for."

  "I've never seen anything so wonderful," Ellen said raptly. He laid anarm around her waist.

  The intercom chose that precise moment to blare: "Attention!Emergency! All hands to emergency stations! Blades, get to Chung'soffice on the double! All hands to emergency stations!"

  Blades was running before the siren had begun to howl.

  Rear Admiral Barclay Hulse had come in person. He stood as if onparade, towering over Chung. The asterite was red with fury. Avis Pagecrouched in a corner, her eyes terrified.

  Blades barreled through the doorway and stopped hardly short of acollision. "What's the matter?" he puffed.

  "Plenty!" Chung snarled. "These incredible thumble-fumbed oafs--" Hisvoice broke. _When he gets mad, it means something!_

  Hulse nailed Blades with a glance. "Good day, sir," he clipped. "Ihave had to report a regrettable accident which will require you toevacuate the Station. Temporarily, I hope."

  "Huh?"

  "As I told Mr. Chung and Miss Page, a nuclear missile has escaped us.If it explodes, the radiation will be lethal, even in the heart of theasteroid."

  "What ... what--" Blades could only gobble at him.

  "Fortunately, the _Pallas Castle_ is here. She can take your wholecomplement aboard and move to a safe distance while we search for theobject."

  "How the _devil_?"

  Hulse allowed himself a look of exasperation. "Evidently I'll have torepeat myself to you. Very well. You know we have had to make someadjustments on our launchers. What you did not know was the reason.Under the circumstances, I think it's permissible to tell you thatseveral of them have a new and secret, experimental control system.One of our missions on this cruise was to carry out field tests. Well,it turned out that the system is still full of, ah, bugs. GunneryCommand has had endless trouble with it, has had to keep tinkering thewhole way from Earth.

  "Half an hour ago, while Commander Warburton was completing areassembly--lower ranks aren't allowed in the test turrets--somethinghappened. I can't tell you my guess as to what, but if you want toimagine that a relay got stuck, that will do for practical purposes. Amissile was released under power. Not a dummy--the real thing. Andrelease automatically arms the war head."

  * * * * *

  The news was like a hammerblow. Blades spoke an obscenity. Sweatsprang forth under his arms and trickled down his ribs.

  "No such thing was expected," Hulse went on. "It's an utter disaster,and the designers of the system aren't likely to get any morecontracts. But as matters were, no radar fix was gotten on it, and itwas soon too far away for gyrogravitic pulse detection. The thrustvector is unknown. It could be almost anywhere now.

  "Well, naval missiles are programmed to reverse acceleration if theyhaven't made a target within a given time. This one should be back inless than six hours. If it first detects our ship, everything is allright. It has optical
recognition circuits that identify any NorthAmerican warcraft by type, disarm the war head, and steer it home.But, if it first comes within fifty kilometers of some othermass--like this asteroid or one of the companion rocks--it willdetonate. We'll make every effort to intercept, but space is big.You'll have to take your people to a safe distance. They can come backeven after a blast, of course. There's no concussion in vacuum, andthe fireball won't reach here. It's principally an anti-personnelweapon. But you must not be within the lethal radius of radiation."

  "The hell we can come back!" Avis cried.

  "I beg your pardon?" Hulse said.

  "You imbecile! Don't you know Central Control here is cryotronic?"

  Hulse did not flicker an eyelid. "So it is," he said expressionlessly."I had forgotten."

  * * * *