Address: Centauri by F. L. Wallace (best ereader for graphic novels .txt) 📗

soon." The medicouncilor paused discreetly. "At first the publicity was bad, very bad. We thought it unwise to try to conceal it. Of course the broadcast made it impossible to hide anything. Fortunately the discovery of the gravity drive came along at just the right time. When we announced it opinion began swinging in our direction. I don't mind telling you the net effect is now in our favor."

"I hoped it would be," said Cameron. "I don't want them to be hurt. They're all vulnerable, Nona especially, because of what she is. I've thought quite a bit about how she should be approached——"

"I'm sure you have." The medicouncilor smiled faintly. "Don't let your emotions run away with you. In due time we'll discuss her. For the present see that she and the other accidentals are returned to their usual places. Bring Docchi to your office at once. He's to be questioned privately."

It was a strange request and mentally Cameron retreated. "Wait. Are you sure you want Docchi? He's the engineer but——"

"No objections, doctor," said Thorton sternly. "Important people are waiting. Don't spoil their good opinion of you." The telecom snapped into darkness.

"I think you heard what he said, Dr. Cameron." The officer at his side was very polite, perhaps because it emphasized the three big planets on his tunic.

"I heard," said Cameron irritably. "I don't want to argue with authority but since I'm in charge of this place I demand that you furnish a guard for this girl.

"So you're in charge?" drawled the officer. "You know I've got a funny feeling I'm commander here. My orders said I was to replace you until further notice. I haven't got that notice." He looked around at his men and crooked a finger. "Lieutenant, see that the little fella—Jordan, I think his name is—gets a lift back to the main dome. And you can walk the pretty lady to her room, or whatever it is she lives in. Don't get too personal though unless she encourages it." He smiled condescendingly at Cameron. "Anything else I can do to oblige a fellow commander?"

Cameron glanced at the guards. They were everywhere he looked, smartly uniformed, alert. There was no indication of amusement in the expressions of those near enough to have heard the conversation. They were well disciplined. "Nothing else, General," he said stonily. "Keep her in sight. You're responsible."

"So I am," remarked the officer pleasantly, winking at the lieutenant. "Let's go."

Medicouncilor Thorton was waiting impatiently on the screen in Cameron's office. The attitude suited him well, as if he'd tried many and found slightly concealed discourtesy best for the personality of the busy executive. "We'll arrive in about two hours," he said immediately. "By this I mean a number of top governmental officials, scientists, and some of our leading industrialists. Their time is valuable so let's get on with this gravity business."

He caught sight of the commander. "General Judd, this is a technical matter. I don't think you'll be interested."

"Very well, sir. I'll stand guard outside."

The medicouncilor was silent until the door closed. "Sit down, Docchi," he said with unexpected solicitude, pausing to note the effect. "I can sympathize with you. Everything within your reach—and then to return here. Well, I can understand how you feel. But since you did come back I think we can arrange to do things for you."

Docchi stared at the screen. A spot of light pulsed in his cheek and then flared rapidly over his face. "You probably will," he said casually. "But what about theft charges? We stole a ship."

"A formality," declared the medicouncilor with earnest simplicity. "With a thing like the discovery, or rediscovery, of the gravity drive, no one's going to worry about an obsolete ship. How else could you test your theories except by trying them out in actual flight?"

The medicouncilor was dulcet, coaxing. "I don't want to mislead you. Medically we can't do any more for you than we have. However you'll find yourself the center of a more adequate social life. Friends, work, whatever you want. In return for this naturally we'll expect your cooperation."

"Wait," said Cameron, walking to the screen and standing squarely in front of it. "I don't think you realize Docchi's part——"

"Don't interrupt," glowered Thorton. "I want to reach an agreement at once. It will look very good for us if we can show these famous people how well we work with our patients. Now, Docchi, how much of the drive can you have on paper by the time we land?"

"He can't have anything," Cameron started shouting. "I tried to tell you—he doesn't know——"

"Look out," cried Thorton too late.

Cameron's knees buckled and he clutched his legs in pain. Again Docchi kicked out and the doctor fell down. Docchi aimed another savage blow with his foot that grazed the back of Cameron's head. Blood trickled from his mouth and he stopped trying to get up.

"Docchi," screeched Thorton, but there was no answer.

Docchi crashed through the door. The commander was lounging against the wall, looking around vacantly. Head down Docchi plunged into him. The toaster fell from his belt to the floor. With scarcely a pause Docchi stamped on it and continued running.

The commander got up, retrieving the weapon. He aimed it at the retreating figure and would have triggered it except that it didn't feel right in his hand. He lowered it and quickly examined the damaged mechanism. Sweating, he slipped it gingerly into a tunic pocket.

Muffled shouts were coming from Cameron's office, growing in vehemence. The general broke in.

The medicouncilor glared at him from the screen. "I see that you let him get away."

The disheveled officer straightened his uniform. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think he had that much life in him. I'll alert the guards immediately."

"Never mind now. Revive that man."

The general wasn't accustomed to resuscitation; saving lives was out of his line. Nevertheless in a few minutes Cameron was conscious, though somewhat dazed.

"Now, doctor, who does know something about the gravity drive if it isn't Docchi?"

Cameron shook his head groggily. "It was an easy mistake," he said. "Cut off from communication with us the drive began to work. How, why, who did it? Mostly who. Not me, I'm a doctor, not a physicist. Nor Jordan; he's at best a mechanic. Therefore it had to be Docchi because he's an engineer." He stopped to wipe the blood from his cheek.

"For God's sake tell me," said Thorton. "It couldn't be——"

"No," said Cameron with quiet satisfaction. "It wasn't Anti either. The last person you'd think of. The little deaf and dumb girl the psychologists wouldn't bother with."

"Nona?" said Thorton incredulously.

"I told you," said Cameron and proceeded to tell him more, filling in the details.

"I see. We overlooked that possibility," said the medicouncilor gravely. "Not the mechanical genius of an engineer. Instead the strange telepathic sense of a girl. That puts the problem in a different light."

"It's not so difficult though." Cameron rubbed the lump on the back of his head. The hair was bristling, clotted with blood. "She can't tell us how she does it. We'll have to find out by experiment, but it won't involve any danger. The monitor can always control the drive."

The medicouncilor laughed shakily, teetering backward. "The monitor is worth exactly nothing. We tried it. For a microsecond it seemed to take over as it always has on other units—but this gravity generator slipped away. We thought Docchi found a way to disengage the control circuit."

"But it wasn't Docchi who told the computer how to do it."

"We figured it out when we thought it was Docchi," growled the medicouncilor wearily. "He was sensible, that's all. It was the only reasonable thing a man could do, come back and take advantage of his discovery." He shook his head in perplexed disgust. "Why the girl returned is beyond me."

"Do you think——" said Cameron and then wished he'd left it unsaid.

"Yes, by God, I do think." The medicouncilor's fist crashed down. "Docchi knows why. He found out in this room and we told him. As soon as he knew he escaped."

Panic slipped into Thorton's face and then was gone, covered over almost at once by long habits of sudden decisions. "She could have taken the ship anywhere she wanted and we couldn't stop her. Since she's here voluntarily it's obvious what she wants—the asteroid."

The medicouncilor tried to shove himself out of the screen. "Don't you ever think, General? There's no real difference between gravity generators except size and power. What she did on the ship she can do as easily here."

"Don't worry," said the startled officer. "I'll get her. I'll find the girl and Docchi too."

"Never mind him," choked the medicouncilor. "I don't care how you do it. Take Nona at once, without delay."

The time had passed for that command. The great dome overhead trembled and creaked in countless joints. But the structure held though unexpected stresses were imposed on it. And the tiny world shivered, groaning and grumbling at the orbit it had lain too long in. Already that was changing—the asteroid began to move.

7

Vague shapes were stirring. They walked if they could, crawled if they couldn't—fantastic and near-fantastic creatures were coming to the assembly. Large or tiny, on their own legs or borrowed ones they arrived, with or without arms, faces. The news had spread fast, by voice or written message, sign language, lip reading, all the conceivable ways that humans communicate, not the least of which was the vague intuition that something was going on that the person should know about. The people on Handicap Haven sensed the emergency.

"Remember it will be hours or perhaps days before we're safe," said Docchi. His voice was hoarse but he hadn't noticed it yet. "It's up to us to see that Nona has all the time she needs."

"Where is she hiding?" asked someone in the crowd.

"I don't know. I wouldn't tell you if I did. They might pry it out of you. Right now our sole job is to keep them from finding her."

"How?" demanded someone else near the front. "Do you expect us to fight the guards?"

"Not directly," said Docchi. "We have no weapons for that, no armament. Many of us have no arms in another sense. All we can do is to obstruct their search. Unless someone can think of something better, this is what I plan:

"I want all the men, older women and the younger ones who aren't suitable for reasons I'll explain later. The guards won't be here for half an hour—it will take that long to get them together and give them orders. When they do come the first group will attempt to interfere in every possible way with their search.

"How you do it I'll leave to your imagination. Appeal to their sympathy as long as they have any. Put yourself in dangerous situations. They have ethics and at first they'll be inclined to help you. When they do, try to steal their weapons. Avoid physical violence as much as you can. We don't want to force them into retaliation—they'll be so much better at it. Make the most of this phase of their behavior. It won't last long."

Docchi paused to look over the crowd. "Each of you will have to decide for himself when to drop passive resistance and start the real battle. Again, you may be able to think of more things than I can tell you but here are some suggestions. Try to disrupt the light, scanning and ventilation systems. They'll be forced to keep them in repair. Perhaps they'll even attempt to guard all the strategic points. So much the better for us—there'll be fewer guards to contend with."

"What about me?" called a woman from far in back. "What can I do?"

"You're in for a rough time," Docchi promised. "Is Jeriann here?"

Jeriann elbowed her way through the crowd to his side. Docchi glanced at her. He'd seen her many times but never so close. It was hard to believe that she should be here with the rest of them. "Jeriann," said Docchi to the accidentals, "is a normal pretty woman—outwardly. However she has no trace of a digestive system. The maximum time she can go without food and fluid absorption is ten hours. That's why she's with us and not on Earth."

Docchi scanned the group. "I'm looking for a miracle. Is there a cosmetechnician who thinks she can perform one? Bring your kit."

A legless woman propelled herself forward. Docchi conferred at length with her. At first she was startled, reluctant to try but after persuasion she consented. Under her deft fingers Jeriann was transformed. When she turned around and faced the crowd she was no longer herself—she was Nona.

"She can get away with the disguise longer and therefore she'll be the first Nona they find," explained Docchi. "I think—hope—that they'll call off the search for a few hours after they take her. Eventually they'll find out