Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; Space warfare -- Fiction
The guard holding his tridents in Crane and Shiro had not much more
warning. He saw his fellow obliterated, true; but that was all he lived
to see, and he had time to do exactly nothing. One more quick flip of
Seaton's singularly efficient weapon and the remains of that officer
also disappeared into hyperspace. More of the chain went along, this
time, but that did not matter. Dropping to the floor the remaining
links of his hyperflail, Seaton sprang to Dorothy, reaching her side
just as the punishing trident, released by the slain guard, fell away
from her.
She recovered her senses instantly and turned a surprised face to the
man, who, incoherent in his relief that she was alive and apparently
unharmed, was taking her into his arms.
"Why, surely, Dick, I'm all right--how could I be any other way?" she
answered his first agonized question in amazement. She studied his worn
face in puzzled wonder and went on: "But you certainly are not. What
has happened, dear, anyway; and how could it have, possibly?"
"I hated like sin to be gone so long, Dimples, but it couldn't be
helped." Seaton, in his eagerness to explain his long absence, did not
even notice the peculiar implications in his wife's speech and manner.
"You see, it was a long trip, and we didn't get a chance to break away
from those meat hooks of theirs until after they got us into their city
and examined us. Then, when we finally did break away, we found that we
couldn't travel at night. Their days are bad enough, with this thick
blue light, but during the nights there's absolutely no light at all,
of any kind. No moon, no stars, no nothing--"
"Nights! What are you talking about, Dick, anyway?" Dorothy had been
trying to interrupt since his first question and had managed at last to
break in. "Why, you haven't been gone at all, not even a second. We've
all been right here, all the time!"
"Huh?" ejaculated Seaton. "Are you cuckoo, Red-Top, or what--"
"Dick and I were gone at least a week, Dottie," Margaret, who had been
embracing Crane, interrupted in turn, "and it was awful!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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