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  _What was the mystery of this great ship from the dark, deep reaches of space? For, within its death-filled chambers--was the avenue of life!_

  DERELICT

  By Alan E. Nourse

  Illustrated by Ed Emsh

  John Sabo, second in command, sat bolt upright in his bunk, blinkingwide-eyed at the darkness. The alarm was screaming through the SatelliteStation, its harsh, nerve-jarring clang echoing and re-echoing down themetal corridors, penetrating every nook and crevice and cubicle of thelonely outpost, screaming incredibly through the dark sleeping period.Sabo shook the sleep from his eyes, and then a panic of fear burst intohis mind. The alarm! Tumbling out of his bunk in the darkness, hecrashed into the far bulkhead, staggering giddily in the impossiblegravity as he pawed about for his magnaboots, his heart poundingfiercely in his ears. The _alarm_! Impossible, after so long, afterthese long months of bitter waiting-- In the corridor he collided withBrownie, looking like a frightened gnome, and he growled profanity as heraced down the corridor for the Central Control.

  Frightened eyes turned to him as he blinked at the bright lights of theroom. The voices rose in a confused, anxious babble, and he shook hishead and swore, and ploughed through them toward the screen. "Kill thatdamned alarm!" he roared, blinking as he counted faces. "Somebody getthe Skipper out of his sack, pronto, and stop that clatter! What's thetrouble?"

  The radioman waved feebly at the view screen, shimmering on the greatside panel. "We just picked it up--"

  It was a ship, moving in from beyond Saturn's rings, a huge, gray-blackblob in the silvery screen, moving in toward the Station with ponderous,clumsy grace, growing larger by the second as it sped toward them. Sabofelt the fear spill over in his mind, driving out all thought, and hesank into the control chair like a well-trained automaton. His gray eyeswere wide, trained for long military years to miss nothing; his fingersmoved over the panel with deft skill. "Get the men to stations," hegrowled, "and will somebody kindly get the Skipper down here, if he canmanage to take a minute."

  "I'm right here." The little graying man was at his elbow, staring atthe screen with angry red eyes. "Who told you to shut off the alarm?"

  "Nobody told me. Everyone was here, and it was getting on my nerves."

  "What a shame." Captain Loomis' voice was icy. "I give orders on thisStation," he said smoothly, "and you'll remember it." He scowled at thegreat gray ship, looming closer and closer. "What's its course?"

  "Going to miss us by several thousand kilos at least. Look at thatthing! It's _traveling_."

  "Contact it! This is what we've been waiting for." The captain's voicewas hoarse.

  Sabo spun a dial, and cursed. "No luck. Can't get through. It's passingus--"

  "Then _grapple_ it, stupid! You want me to wipe your nose, too?"

  Sabo's face darkened angrily. With slow precision he set the servo fixeson the huge gray hulk looming up in the viewer, and then snapped theswitches sharply. Two small servos shoved their blunt noses from thelanding port of the Station, and slipped silently into space alongside.Then, like a pair of trained dogs, they sped on their beams straight outfrom the Station toward the approaching ship. The intruder was dark,moving at tremendous velocity past the Station, as though unaware of itsexistence. The servos moved out, and suddenly diverged and reversed,twisting in long arcs to come alongside the strange ship, finally movingin at the same velocity on either side. There was a sharp flash ofcontact power; then, like a mammoth slow-motion monster, the ship jerkedin midspace and turned a graceful end-for-end arc as the servo-grapplersgripped it like leeches and whined, glowing ruddy with the jolting powerflowing through them. Sabo watched, hardly breathing, until the greatship spun and slowed and stopped. Then it reversed direction, and theservos led it triumphantly back toward the landing port of the Station.

  Sabo glanced at the radioman, a frown creasing his forehead. "Stillnothing?"

  "Not a peep."

  He stared out at the great ship, feeling a chill of wonder and fearcrawl up his spine. "So this is the mysterious puzzle of Saturn," hemuttered. "This is what we've been waiting for."

  There was a curious eager light in Captain Loomis' eyes as he looked up."Oh, no. Not this."

  "What?"

  "Not this. The ships we've seen before were tiny, flat." His little eyesturned toward the ship, and back to Sabo's heavy face. "This issomething else, something quite different." A smile curved his lips, andhe rubbed his hands together. "We go out for trout and come back with awhale. This ship's from space, deep space. Not from Saturn. This one'sfrom the stars."

  * * * * *

  The strange ship hung at the side of the Satellite Station, silent as atomb, still gently rotating as the Station slowly spun in its orbitaround Saturn.

  In the captain's cabin the men shifted restlessly, uneasily facing theeager eyes of their captain. The old man paced the floor of the cabin,his white hair mussed, his face red with excitement. Even his carefullycalm face couldn't conceal the eagerness burning in his eyes as he facedthe crew. "Still no contact?" he asked Sparks.

  The radioman shook his head anxiously. "Not a sign. I've tried everysignal I know at every wave frequency that could possibly reach them.I've even tried a dozen frequencies that couldn't possibly reach them,and I haven't stirred them up a bit. They just aren't answering."

  Captain Loomis swung on the group of men. "All right, now, I want you toget this straight. This is our catch. We don't know what's aboard it,and we don't know where it came from, but it's our prize. That means nota word goes back home about it until we've learned all there is tolearn. We're going to get the honors on this one, not some eager Admiralback home--"

  The men stirred uneasily, worried eyes seeking Sabo's face in alarm."What about the law?" growled Sabo. "The law says everything must bereported within two hours."

  "Then we'll break the law," the captain snapped. "I'm captain of thisStation, and those are your orders. You don't need to worry about thelaw--I'll see that you're protected, but this is too big to fumble. Thisship is from the stars. That means it must have an Interstellar drive.You know what that means. The Government will fall all over itself toreward us--"

  Sabo scowled, and the worry deepened in the men's faces. It was hard toimagine the Government falling all over itself for anybody. They knewtoo well how the Government worked. They had heard of the swift trials,the harsh imprisonments that awaited even the petty infringers. TheMilitary Government had no time to waste on those who stepped out ofline, they had no mercy to spare. And the men knew that their captainwas not in favor in top Government circles. Crack patrol commanders werenot shunted into remote, lifeless Satellite Stations if their stand inthe Government was high. And deep in their minds, somehow, the men knewthey couldn't trust this little, sharp-eyed, white-haired man. Thecredit for such a discovery as this might go to him, yes--but therewould be little left for them.

  "The law--" Sabo repeated stubbornly.

  "Damn the law! We're stationed out here in this limbo to watch Saturnand report any activity we see coming from there. There's nothing in ourorders about anything else. There have been ships from there, theythink, but not this ship. The Government has spent billions trying tofind an Interstellar, and never gotten to first base." The captainpaused, his eyes narrowing. "We'll go aboard this ship," he said softly."We'll find out what's aboard it, and where it's from, and we'll takeits drive. There's been no resistance yet, but it could be dangerous. Wecan't assume anything. The boarding party will report everything theyfind to me. One of them will have to be a drive man. That's you,Brownie."

  The little man with the sharp black eyes looked up eagerly. "I don'tkno
w if I could tell anything--"

  "You can tell more than anyone else here. Nobody else knows space drive.I'll count on you. If you bring back a good report, perhaps we cancancel out certain--unfortunate items in your record. But one othershould board with you--" His eyes turned toward John Sabo.

  "Not me. This is your goat." The mate's eyes were sullen. "This is grossbreach, and you know it. They'll have you in irons when we get back. Idon't want anything to do with it."

  "You're under