Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; War stories
Hartnett's shouted order to "... get the hell out of here!" was
strictly unnecessary. By the time he had issued it, the remaining three
ships of Blue Three were piling on Gs in the direction of Terra.
Though no one stayed to look at it, the sight of the remnants of Oberon
forming into a thin ring around the grumbling Uranus must have been
quite impressive.
* * * * *
Ten hours from Luna Base, Flotilla Blue Three's officers had assembled
for a victory dinner in the wardroom. The last course was cleared away,
and Chavez passed a quantity of his precious cheroots around.
He settled himself down beside Scott and dragged happily at his smoke.
It was Blake who burst out with the question that was on everyone's
mind.
Commodore Hartnett smiled. "It was Horowitz who really doped the
thing out, gentlemen. I just put the plan into operation. You see,
plutonium can be used as a sort of booster charge in a chain reaction
explosion ... you all know that. You, yourself, Blake, and you men from
the station moved the stuff into a spot that would be directly under
the poor old _Artemis_ when the shooting started.
"You youngsters don't remember much about land warfare, so it was
up to me to rig the trap. The bait was _Artemis_. The teaser was
the spread-beam radio message about the three dreadnaughts that we
aren't.... Remember that, Mr. Scott?"
Scott blushed furiously and nodded.
"Well," continued Hartnett, "It was something of a gamble, I suppose.
But the odds were long and the chances weren't too bad.
"You all know how anxious the Cats are to try something new. Those
cyclotronic rifles must have been literally burning a hole in their
pockets ... and the range was short ... they couldn't resist the
temptation to try them. If they had stuck to proton guns they would
have melted _Artemis_ down and that would have been the end of
it ... they would have had the X-R to do with as they pleased. But
they got itchy fingers with the new stuff ... as I prayed they would.
Curiosity, I suppose. The feline instinct. Have you ever seen a cat
trying to open a package? Same kind of people.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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