Science fiction; Space pirates -- Fiction; Space stations -- Fiction; Weapons -- Fiction
Aboard the ship, it was another story. The celestial globe of the
meteor spotter blazed once in a blinding light and then went completely
out of control. It danced with pin points of light, and the coupler
that was used to direct the guns went crazy. Turrets tried to swivel,
but the charge raised hob with the electronic controls, and the guns
raised once and then fell, inert. One of them belched flame and fire,
and the shell went wild. The carefully balanced potentials in the
driver tubes was upset, and the ship lost headway. The heavy ion stream
from the driving cathode bent and spread, touching the dynodes in
the tube. The resulting current brought them to a red heat, and they
melted down and floated through the evacuated tube in round droplets.
Instruments went wild, and gave every possible answer, and the ship
became a bedlam of ringing bells and flashing danger lights.
But the crew was in no shape to appreciate the display. From
metal parts in the ship there appeared coronas that reached for
the unprotected men, and seared their flesh. And since their
gravity-apparent was gone, they floated freely through the air, and
came in contact with highly charged walls, ceiling, and floor; to say
nothing of the standard metal furniture.
It was a sorry bunch of pirates that found themselves in a
ship-without-motive-power that was beginning to leave their circular
course on a tangent that would let them drop into the Sun.
"That's my answer, Murdoch!" snapped Channing. "Watch your second ship!"
"You young devil," shouted Murdoch, "what did you do?"
"You never thought that it would be an electronics engineer that made
the first energy gun, did you, Murdoch? I'm now going to take a shot at
No. 3!"
No. 3's turrets swiveled around and from the guns flashes of fire came
streaming. Channing punched his lever savegely, and once again the
Station was tortured by the effects of its own offensive.
Ship No. 3 suffered the same fate as No. 2.
Then, seconds later, armor-piercing shells began to hit Venus
Equilateral. They hit, and because of the terrific charge, they began
to arc at the noses. The terrible current passed through the fuses,
and the shells exploded on contact instead of boring inside before
detonation. Metal was bent and burned, but only a few tiny holes
resulted. As the charge on the Station approached equilibrium once
more, men ran with torches to seal these holes.
"Murdoch," said Channing, "I want you!"
"Come and get me."
"Land--or die!" snapped Channing in a vicious tone. "I'm no
humanitarian, Murdoch. You'd be better off dead!"
"Never," said Hellion Murdoch.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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