"We're a thousand miles from the _Shudos_ now; close in slowly until
we're within a hundred yards. The boarding parties will don armor and
prepare to board while we're closing in. At a hundred yards, we stop
and the boarding parties will land on the hull. I'll give further
orders then.
"One more thing. I don't think her A-A generators could possibly be
functioning, judging from that dent in her hull, but we can't be sure.
If she tries to go into A-A drive, she is to be bombed--no matter who
is aboard. It is better that sixty men die than that The Butcher
escape.
"All right, let's go. Move in."
* * * * *
Half an hour later, Major Thornton stood on the hull of the _Shudos_,
surrounded by the sixty men of the boarding party. "Anybody see
anything through those windows?" he asked.
Several of the men had peered through the direct-vision ports, playing
spotlight beams through them.
"Nothing alive," said a sergeant, a remark which was followed by a
chorus of agreement.
"Pretty much of a mess in there," said another sergeant. "That fifty
gees mashed everything to the floor. Why'd anyone want to use
acceleration like that?"
"Let's go in and find out," said Major Thornton.
The outer door to the air lock was closed, but not locked. It swung
open easily to disclose the room between the outer and inner doors. Ten
men went in with the major, the others stayed outside with orders to
cut through the hull if anything went wrong.
"If he's still alive," the major said, "we don't want to kill him by
blowing the air. Sergeant, start the airlock cycle."
There was barely room for ten men in the air lock. It had been built
big enough for the full crew to use it at one time, but it was only
just big enough.
When the inner door opened, they went in cautiously. They spread out
and searched cautiously. The caution was unnecessary, as it turned out.
There wasn't a living thing aboard.
"Three officers shot through the head, sir," said the sergeant. "One of
'em looks like he died of a broken neck, but it's hard to tell after
that fifty gees mashed 'em. Crewmen in the engine room--five of 'em.
Mashed up, but I'd say they died of radiation, since the shielding on
one of the generators was ruptured by the blast that made that dent in
the hull."
"Nine bodies," the major said musingly. "All Kerothi. And all of them
probably dead _before_ the fifty-gee acceleration. Keep looking,
sergeant. We've got to find the tenth man."
Another twenty-minute search gave them all the information they were
ever to get.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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