Russ straightened, scowling, pulling at the pipe. "They probably found
another G-type star, and are heading for that. They must think it is old
Sol."
"That sounds like it," said Greg. "We spun all over the map to throw
Craven off and looped several times so he'd lose all sense of direction.
Naturally he would be lost."
"But he's evidently got something," Russ pointed out. "We left him
marooned ... dead center, out where he didn't have too much radiation
and couldn't get leverage on any single body. Yet he's moving--and
getting farther away all the time."
"He solved our gravitation concentration screen," said Greg. "He tricked
us into giving him power to build it."
The two men looked at one another for a long minute.
"Well," said Russ, "that's that. Craven and Chambers and Stutsman. The
three villains. All lost in space. Heading for the wrong star.
Hopelessly lost. Maybe they'll never find their way back."
He stopped and relit his pipe. An aching silence fell in the room.
"Poetic justice," said Russ. "Hail and farewell."
Greg rubbed his fist indecisively along the desk. "I can't do it, Russ.
We took them out there. We marooned them. We have to get them back or I
couldn't sleep nights."
Russ laughed quietly, watching the bleak face that stared at him. "I
knew that's what you'd say."
He knocked out the pipe, crushed a fleck of burning tobacco with his
boot. Pocketing the pipe, he walked to the control panel, sat down and
reached for the lever. The engines hummed louder and louder. The
_Invincible_ darted spaceward.
* * * * *
"It's too late now," said Chambers. "By the time we reach that planetary
system and charge our accumulators, Manning and Page will have
everything under control back in the Solar System. Even if we could
locate the star that was our Sun, we wouldn't have a chance to get there
in time."
"Too bad," Craven said, and wagged his head, looking like a solemn owl.
"Too bad. Dictator Stutsman won't have a chance to strut his stuff."
Stutsman started to say something and thought better of it. He leaned
back in his chair. From his belt hung a heat pistol.
Chambers eyed the pistol with ill-concealed disgust. "There's no point
in playing soldier. We aren't going to try to upset your mutiny. So far
your taking over the ship hasn't made any difference to us ... so why
should we fight you?"
"It isn't going to make any difference either," said Craven. "Because
there are just two things that will happen to us. We're either lost
forever, will never find our way back, will spend the rest of our days
wandering from star to star, or Manning will come out and take us by the
ear and lead us home again."
Chambers started, leaned forward and fastened his steely eyes on Craven.
"Do you really think he could find us?"
"I have no doubt of it," Craven replied. "I don't know how he does it,
but I'm convinced he can. Probably, however, he'll find that we are lost
and get rid of us that way."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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