unconscious." Only it wasn't Larry alone who was talking. Itwas Larry and Johnny Mayhem. In a surprisingly short time the youngSecret Serviceman had come to accept the dual occupation of his ownmind. It was there: it was either dual occupation or insanity and if thevoice which spoke inside his head said it was Johnny Mayhem, then it wasJohnny Mayhem. Besides, Larry felt clear-headed in a way he had neverfelt before, despite the terrible, sapping heat. It was as if he hadmatured suddenly--the word matured came to him instinctively--in thespace of minutes. Or, as if a maturing influence were at work on hismind.
"What can we do?" Sheila said. "The crew has complete control of theship."
"Secret Service chief says we're on our own. There's no time forco-ordinated planning, but somehow, within a very few minutes, we've gotto get inside the subspace room and throw the ship out of normal spaceor we'll all be roasted."
"Some of your men are there now, aren't they?"
"In the companionway outside the subspace room, yeah. But they'll neverforce their way in time. Not with blasters and not with N-guns, either.Not in ten minutes, they won't."
"Larry, all of a sudden I--I'm scared. We're all going to die, Larry. Idon't want--Larry, what are you going to do?"
They had been walking in a deserted companionway which brought them toone of the aft escape hatches of the _Glory of the Galaxy_. Theirclothing was plastered to their bodies with sweat and every breath wasagonizing, furnace hot.
"I'm going outside," Larry said quietly.
"Outside? What do you mean?"
"Spacesuit, outside. There's a hatch in the subspace room. If theirattention is diverted to the companionway door, I may be able to get in.It's our only chance--ours, and everyone's."
"But the spacesuit--"
"I know," Larry said even as he was climbing into the inflatable vacuumgarment. It was Larry--and it wasn't Larry. He felt a certainconfidence, a certain sense of doing the right thing--a feeling whichLarry Grange had never experienced before in his life. It was as if theboy had become a man in the final moments of his life--or, he thoughtall at once, it was as if Johnny Mayhem who shared his mind and his bodywith him was somehow transmitting some of his own skills and confidenceeven as he--Mayhem--had reached the decision to go outside.
"I know," he said. "The spacesuit isn't insulated sufficiently. I'llhave about three minutes out there. Three minutes to get inside.Otherwise, I'm finished."
"But Larry--"
"Don't you see, Sheila? What does it matter? Who wants the five or tenextra minutes if we're all going to die anyway? This way, there's achance."
He buckled the spacesuit and lifted the heavy fishbowl helmet, preparingto set it on his shoulders.
"Wait," Sheila said, and stood on tiptoes to take his face in her handsand kiss him on the lips. "You--you're different," Sheila said. "You'rethe same guy, a lot of fun, but you're a--man, too. This is for whatmight have been, Larry," she said, and kissed him again. "This isbecause I love you."
Before he dropped the helmet in place, Larry said. "It isn't for whatmight have been, Sheila. It's for what will be."
The helmet snapped shut over the shoulder ridges of the spacesuit.Moments later, he had slipped into the airlock.
* * * * *
"I say you're a fool, Ackerman Boone!" one of the enlisted men rasped atthe leader of the mutiny. "I say now we've lost our last chance. Nowit's too late to get into the lifeboats even if we wanted to. Now all wecan do is--die!"
There were still ten conscious men in the subspace room. The others hadfallen before heat prostration and lay strewn about the floor, wringingwet and oddly flaccid as if all the moisture had been wrung from theirbodies except for the sweat which covered their skins.
"All right," Ackerman Boone admitted. "All right, so none of us knowshow to work the subspace mechanism. You think that would have helped? Itwould have killed us all, I tell you."
"It was a chance, Boone. Our last chance and you--"
"Just shut up!" Boone snarled. "I know what you're thinking. You'rethinking we ought to let them officers and Secret Servicemen to ram homethe subspace drive. But use your head, man. Probably they'll kill usall, but if they don't--"
"Then you admit there's a chance!"
"Yeah. All right, a chance. But if they don't kill us all, if they saveus by ramming home the subspacer, what happens? We're all taken in on amutiny charge. It's a capital offense, you fool!"
"Well, it's better than sure death," the man said, and moved toward thedoor.
"Allister, wait!" Boone cried. "Wait, I'm warning you. Any man who triesto open that door--"
Outside, a steady booming of blaster fire could be heard, but theassault-proof door stood fast.
"--is going to get himself killed!" Boone finished.
Grimly, Allister reached the door and got his already blistered fingerson the lock mechanism.
Ackerman Boone shot him in the back with an N-gun.
* * * * *
Larry's whole body felt like one raw mass of broken blisters as, flat onhis belly, he inched his way along the outside hull of the _Glory of theGalaxy_. He had no idea what the heat was out here, but it radiated offthe hot hull of the _Glory_ in scalding, suffocating waves which sweptright through the insulining of the spacesuit. If he didn't find theproper hatch, and in a matter of seconds....
* * * * *
"Anyone else?" Ackerman Boone screamed. "Anyone else like Allister?"
But one by one the remaining men were dropping from the heat.Finally--alone--Ackerman Boone faced the door and stared defiantly atthe hot metal as if he could see his adversaries through it. On theother side, the firing became more sporadic as the officers and SecretServicemen collapsed. His mind crazed with the heat and with fear,Ackerman Boone suddenly wished he could see the men through the door,wished he could see them die....
* * * * *
It was this hatch or nothing. He thought it was the right one, butcouldn't be sure. He could no longer see. His vision had gonecompletely. The pain was a numb thing now, far away, hardly a part ofhimself. Maybe Mayhem was absorbing the pain-sensation for him, hethought. Maybe Mayhem took the pain and suffered with it in the sharedbody so he, Larry, could still think. Maybe--
His blistered fingers were barely able to move within the insulinedgloves, Larry fumbled with the hatch.
* * * * *
Ackerman Boone whirled suddenly. He had been intent upon thecompanionway door and the sounds behind him--which he had heard but notregistered as dangerous for several seconds--now made him turn.
The man was peeling off a space suit. Literally peeling it off in stripsfrom his lobster-red flesh. He blinked at Boone without seeing him.Dazzle-blinded, Boone thought, then realized his own vision was going.
"I'll kill you if you go near that subspace drive!" Boone screamed.
"It's the only chance for all of us and you know it, Boone," the mansaid quietly. "Don't try to stop me."
Ackerman Boone lifted his N-gun and squinted through the haze of heatand blinding light. He couldn't see! He couldn't see....
Wildly, he fired the N-gun. Wildly, in all directions, spraying the roomwith it--
Larry dropped blindly forward. Twice he tripped over unconscious men,but climbed to his feet and went on. He could not see Boone, but hecould see--vaguely--the muzzle flash of Boone's N-gun. He staggeredacross the room toward that muzzle-flash and finally embraced it--
And found himself fighting for his life. Boone was crazed now--with theheat and with his own failure. He bit and tore at Larry with strongclaw-like fingers and lashed out with his feet. He balled his fists andhammered air like a windmill, arms flailing, striking flesh often enoughto batter Larry toward the floor.
Grimly Larry clung to him, pulled himself upright, ducked his headagainst his chest and struck out with his own fists, feeling nothing,not knowing when they landed and when they d
id not, hearing nothing buta far off roaring in his ears, a roaring which told him he was losingconsciousness and had to act--soon--if he was going to save anyone....
He stood and pounded with his fists.
Pounded--air.
He did not know that Boone had collapsed until his feet trod on theman's inert body and then, quickly, he rushed toward the control board,rushed blindly in its direction, or in the direction he thought it wouldbe, tripped over something, sprawled on the hot, blistering floor, gothimself up somehow, crawled forward, pulled himself upright....
There was no sensation in his fingers. He did not