she was through--in normal space where stars shown withpinpoint brilliancy and where the celestial sphere was no longer a lazy,crazy crisscross of blurred lines.
The Cluster Queen started a wide hyperspatial turn, remaining spatiallyalongside the Fleury. She gathered speed as she swung around andstraightened out and, with hyperjets blasting full force, plungedthrough the barrier in somewhat less time than a milli-second.
Ahead, the Fleury was picked up immediately on the scope. Like a hawk,the Queen closed the distance to the other trembling, silent ship.
* * * * *
Vega IV's spaceport was bathed in brilliant, blue-cast light from themagnificent sun.
The Cluster Queen was docked. A tractor kept itself busy rolling up theramp into the ship and out again with huge crates that were apparentlyin somewhat poorer condition than when they left Arcturus II. Anoccasional splintered board jutted outward, held to its box only byloose nails.
Three men were next to the hold's hatch. They stood grouped about anelongated form that lay on the concrete apron, covered with a whitesquare of linen. A spacesuit clad arm jutted out under one side of thecovered square.
"We'll take you over to the office," Inspector Graham was saying."You'll have to make out an affidavit, you know. We'll need a couple ofyour crewmen to verify it."
"Be glad to," Altman answered. "Any time you're ready."
"As soon as they pick up--Conally," the inspector looked down at theform.
"I don't understand it," Jim muttered, rubbing a thumb and forefingerover closed eyelids.
"_Maybe I've got a version that's easier to understand, Jim_," the voicesounded forcefully from the direction of the hatch.
Inspector Graham and Altman spun around.
Jim didn't have to. He was facing the hatch.
Altman blanched; backed away; stopped, and held his ground.
"Brad!" Jim shouted unbelievingly and rushed forward to grasp his armsas the Fleury's skipper leaped off the side of the ramp. He was haggardbut smiling.
"Who's this?" the inspector asked.
"This is Conally, the skipper of the Fleury," Jim explained jubilantly.
The inspector started, looked at the form on the apron, back at Brad,then at Altman.
"A trick!" Altman cried hoarsely. "I see it all, inspector. It's adamned trick! I've been roped in!"
He was putting on a rather good act, Brad thought. But he went alongwith his story anyway. As Brad unfolded the incidents of sabotage,threat, assault, refusal to assist, pirating cargo, plotting murder anddisregard of Space Code Regulations, he watched Altman gain more controlover himself.
"I realized about an hour before spillthrough," Brad was approaching theend of his account, "that the Fleury was no longer holding the spilledcargo in an orbit because its grav system wasn't working. Whatevercrates broke free from the holds also broke free from the ship's systemand were no longer being dragged down the descending node towardspillthrough. They were remaining stationary on the arc--where Altmanwas sure to pick them up.
"Your spacesuit, Jim, came in handy. Without it, nothing could have beendone. I just filled it up with anything I could find--extra clothing,insulation from the ruptured tube, a few utensils. It didn't make anydifference. The crew members who would handle the "body" would believeit felt as torn apart as any other space suited body that experiencedspillthrough at a snail's pace.
"To add weight, I broke open a bin of hematite and poured about ahundred pounds or so of the stuff into the suit. I stirred it gently;got more hematite--red ocher, you know--and half-filled the helmet. Wehad enough control column oil left to wet it down rather thoroughly. Thenew mixture had a rich, dark-red color, just like I thought it would. Isloshed the goo around in the helmet so all the inner surface was coatedwith the mixture and with small bits of indistinguishable odds and ends;then I clamped the dome onto the suit and harnessed it in the pilot'sseat.
"I put on my own helmet again, went aft and crawled into a half-bustedcrate. With the wrist propulsor, I jockeyed the thing out of the hold tomake damned sure it would break free of the Fleury's system and wouldn'tspill through with the ship. After I saw I was drifting off, I worked myway well into the bracing between the crate and the inter-calc unit so Icouldn't be seen through the broken sections of the box.
"Sure enough--about three hours later, along comes grabbenheimer," hethrew a thumb in Altman's direction, "with his grapples. I was able tosqueeze out of the suit an hour or so after that. But I've been crampedup in that crate for two days, with only emergency rations."
* * * * *
Altman loosed a sarcastic laugh and turned to the inspector. "It's adamned clever trick, inspector!" he shouted. "I been grappled in on thescheme.... Like I said, I arrived when he was slipping through. Icouldn't do anything to stop it. Naturally I wasn't going to let thecargo go to waste. Naturally I was going to bring back what I thoughtwas his body--regulations say I gotta do that.
"But he knew for a couple of hours that I was coming in answer to hisSOS. I had gotten a fix on the point where he was slipping through andhe was certain I would follow the Fleury through to normal space, pickup his body and the cargo that was aboard and go back into hyper to getthe rest of the cargo. He had time to make all those preparations. So hedreams up the scheme of hiding in with the cargo that's free in hyperand telling this story later. You see...."
Brad laughed. "Your tongue's working a little too fast, Altman. When Ipicked the crate I was going to ride in, I picked a very special one.The tractor's bringing it out now." He pointed to the ramp. Part of thespace suit was visible through the splintered side of the box.
"That crate," he continued, "will carry more weight as evidence than theoaths of all your crewmen on a pile of Bibles stacked from here toArcturus."
Altman frowned puzzledly.
Jim and the inspector looked at each other.
"Inside is one of West Cluster's integrator-calculator audio retentionbanks," Brad explained. "It took only ten minutes to hook leads from thebank input to the intercommunication jackbox in the hold and to switchit in on the radio voice system. With that setup, everything said on thevoice radio afterward spilled over into the retention bank. The onlyreason why I held that final conversation with you was to get you torepeat what you had done and were planning."
Brad turned to Graham. "How about it inspector? Do you think the courtswill see that we get compensation for the loss of the Fleury?"
"The least you'll get," Graham said, "is the Cluster Queen."
Brad looked up appraisingly at the massive vessel. "She ought todo as security on a loan to cover the purchase of two or three otherspaceworthy freighters to go with her. Wouldn't you think so,Jim?--That'd make a nice nucleus for a fleet!"
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