theoutworlds' first taste of them. The widow Moriarity had had her handsfull, all right. But secretly, she had enjoyed every minute of it.
"They say the bell means a prison break!" First Violin squealedexcitedly. First Violin was twenty-two, an Earth girl named JaneCummings and a student at the conservatory on Sirtus Major on Mars, butto the widow Moriarity she was, and would remain, First Violin. Thatway, calling the girls after their instruments, the widow Moriaritycould convince herself that her symphonic music had been of primeimportance on Triton, and her lovely young charges of secondaryimportance.
"How many times do I have to tell you to hurry?"
"But these gowns--"
"Will need a pressing when you return to Mars anyway."
"And a prison break. I never saw a prison break before. It's soexciting."
"You're not going to see it. You're just going to hear about it. Comeon, come on, all of you."
At that moment the room phone rang.
"Hello?" the widow Moriarity said.
"This is Jenkins, ma'am, desk. The spaceport called a few minutes ago.I'm not supposed to frighten you, but, well, they're rather worriedabout the prison break. The escaped convict, they figure, will head forthe spaceport. Disguised, he could--"
"Let him try masquerading as a member of _my_ group!" the widowMoriarity said with a smile.
"All the same, if you could hurry--"
"We are hurrying, young man."
"Yes, ma'am."
The widow Moriarity hung up. "Gi-irls!"
The girls squealed and laughed and dawdled.
* * * * *
House Bartock felt like laughing.
He'd just had his first big break, and it might turn out to be the onlyone he needed. On an impulse, he had decided to strike out directly forthe spaceport. He had done so, and now stood on the dark tarmac betweenthe manifest shed and the pilot-barracks. And, not ten minutes after hehad reached the spacefield a cordon of guards rushed there fromInterstelpen had been stationed around the field. Had Bartock arrivedjust a few minutes later, he would have been too late, his capture onlya matter of time. As it was now, though, he had a very good chance ofgetting away. Circumstances were in his favor.
He could get so far away that they would never find him.
It was simple. Get off Triton on a spaceship. Go anyplace that had a bigspaceport, and manage to tranship out in secret. Then all the policewould have to search would be a few quadrillion square miles of space!
But first he had to leave Triton.
From the activity at the port, he could see that three ships were beingmade ready for blastoff. Two of them were purely cargo-carriers, but thethird--Bartock could tell because he saw hand-luggage beingloaded--would carry passengers. His instinct for survival must have beenworking overtime: he knew that the third ship would be his best bet, forif he were discovered and pursued, hostages might make the differencebetween recapture and freedom.
Bartock waited patiently in the darkness outside the pilot-barracks. Theonly problem was, how to discover which pilot belonged to which ship?
The cordon of police from Interstelpen had set up several scorearc-lights on the perimeter of the field. The spaces between the lightswere patrolled by guards armed, as Bartock was, with blasters. Bartockcould never have made it through that cordon now. But it wasn'tnecessary. He was already inside.
The barracks door opened, and a pilot came out. Tensing, ready, Bartockwatched him.
The three ships were scattered widely on the field, _Venus Bell_ to thenorth, _Star of Hercules_ to the south, _Mozart's Lady_ to the east._Venus Bell_ and _Star of Hercules_ were straight cargo carriers._Mozart's Lady_--what a queer name for a spaceship, Bartock couldn'thelp thinking--had taken in hand luggage. So if the pilot who had justleft the barracks headed east, Bartock would take him. The pilot pausedoutside, lit a cigarette, hummed a tune. The scent of tobacco driftedover to Bartock. He waited.
The pilot walked east toward _Mozart's Lady_.
* * * * *
"Ready, girls?"
"Ready, Mrs. Moriarity. But couldn't we--well--sort of hang around untilwe see what happens?"
"You mean the escaped convict?"
"Yes, ma'am." Hopefully.
"They'll catch him. They always catch them."
"But--"
"Come on."
"Aw, gosh, Mrs. Moriarity."
"I said, come on."
Reluctantly, the hundred girls trooped with their chaperone from thehotel.
* * * * *
Bartock struck swiftly and without mercy.
The blaster would make too much noise. He turned it around, held it bythe barrel, and broke the pilot's skull with it. In the darkness hechanged clothing for the second time that night, quickly, confidently,his hands steady. In the darkness he could barely make out the pilot'smanifest. The man's ship was _Mozart's Lady_, all right. Outbound fromTriton City for Mars. Well, Bartock thought, he wouldn't go to Mars.Assuming they learned what ship he had boarded, they would be guardingthe inner orbits too closely.
He would take _Mozart's Lady_ daringly outward, beyond Neptune's orbit.Naturally, the ship wouldn't have interstellar drive, but as yet Bartockwasn't going interstellar. You couldn't have everything. You couldn'texpect a starship on Triton, could you? So Bartock would take _Mozart'sLady_ outward to Pluto's orbit--and wait. From the amount of handluggage taken aboard, _Mozart's Lady_ would be carrying quite a numberof passengers. If that number were reduced--drastically reduced--thefood, water and air aboard would last for many months. Until the fussdied down. Until Bartock could bring _Mozart's Lady_, long since givenup for lost, in for a landing on one of the inner planets....
Now he dragged the dead pilot's body into the complete darkness on thesouth side of the pilot-barracks, wishing he could hide it better butknowing he didn't have the time or the means.
Then he walked boldly across the tarmac, wearing a pilot's uniform,toward _Mozart's Lady_.
Fifteen minutes later, House Bartock watched with amazement while ahundred pretty young women boarded the ship. Of all the things that hadhappened since his escape, this came closest to unnerving him, for itwas the totally unexpected. Bartock shrugged, chain-smoked threecigarettes while the women boarded slowly, taking last-minute looks atdark Triton, the spaceport, the cordon of guards, the arc-lights.Bartock cursed impotently. Seconds were precious now. The pilot's bodymight be found. If it were....
At last the port clanged shut and the ground-crew tromped away. Sinceeven an over-age ship like _Mozart's Lady_ was close to ninety percentautomatic, there was no crew. Only the pilot--who was Bartock--and thepassengers.
Bartock was about to set the controls for blastoff when he heardfootsteps clomp-clomping down the companionway. He toyed with the ideaof locking the door, then realized that would arouse suspicion.
A square woman's face over a plump middle-aged figure.
"I'm Mrs. Moriarity, pilot. I have a hundred young girls aboard. We'llhave no nonsense."
"No, sir. I mean, no ma'am."
"Well, make sure."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And I want an easy trip, without fuss or incidents. For half of ourgirls it's the second time in space--the first being when they came outhere. You understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"What happened to the pilot who took us out?"
"Uh, pressed into service last week on a Mercury run. I'm surprised thecontrol board didn't tell you."
"They didn't. It doesn't matter. You do your job, and that's all."
"Yes, ma'am," House Bartock said. "Just my job."
A few moments later, _Mozart's Lady_ blasted off.
* * * * *
"Stop! Hey, wait!" Pitchblend Hardesty bawled at the top of his voice.But it didn't do any good. The police rushed up behind Pitchblend, notdaring to fire.
Moments before, they had found the dead pilot's body.
They knew at once what it meant, of course. They had been not more thana minute too late.
"Call Central Control on Neptune," a police officer said. "We'll send acruiser after them."
"Won't do any good," Pitchblend Hardesty groaned.
"What are you talking about, fellow?"
"Unless the cruiser's brand new."
"On Neptune? Don't be silly. Newest one we've got is ten years old."
"Like I said, won't do any good. I worked that ship over, mister. I knowwhat she's like inside. She may look like an over-age tub on theoutside, but don't let that fool you. She's got power,