The roaring from without was the sound of the rockets, loud enough to
drown out the whine that had nearly killed him. The ship was landing.
And at once there was a gentle jar, then a dizzying vertigo as the
grav-web was cut off abruptly. The rockets died down and were silent.
Everything was silent. The change was fantastic, a dream. Nolan, lying
there, thought the silence was the finest thing he had ever heard.
It didn't last. There were footsteps outside, and the Venusian second
mate entered. "On your feet," he said curtly. "The boss is ready for
you."
Nolan stood up cautiously. His feet were shaky, but he could use
them. He stepped over the rounded sill and followed the Venusian's
directions. There were men in the corridor, some of them in heat
suits. Nolan wondered where they were. Neptune was on the other side
of the sun--could they be as far in as Uranus? How long had he been
unconscious!
"Get moving," repeated the second, and Nolan moved.
The blessed stillness! He was grinning to himself as he walked along
the corridor, listening for the lethal whine that wasn't there any
more. When they got to where Woller, space-suited and bloated, was
directing a crew of men in the moving of a bulky object, Woller noted
the grin. He was not pleased.
"Enjoying yourself, Nolan?" he asked, unsmiling. "That will have to
stop."
A grin stayed on Nolan's face, but it was not the same one. It was a
savage threat. Woller looked at it, and looked hastily away.
"Stand him over in the corner," he said to the Venusian second. "I'll
attend to him right away. Business first."
The second jerked a thumb at the corner formed by the airlock door and
the wall of the corridor. Nolan looked in the direction indicated, and
a sudden tic in his brows showed a thought that had come to him. The
red signal light winked out as he watched; the inner door had closed.
He stared through the transparency at what was beyond. Darkness was
all he could see--darkness, and the light-dotted outline of buildings
in the distance. Just beyond the lock was something that looked like a
skid, with men's figures around it. His forehead puckered, and his eyes
returned to the signal light, now dark--
The Venusian second watched Nolan limp slowly over to the indicated
position. His eyes narrowed. "Hey, what's the matter?" he asked surlily.
Nolan shook his head. "Something in my shoe," he said. He halted and
balanced himself on one foot, poking into the offending footgear. "A
button, I guess," he said as drew out, concealed, something that he
knew quite well was _not_ a button.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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