Clarke, Arthur C - SSC 04 Read Online Free PDF

clenched his fists and squared his jaw. In a few minutes, he
thought, some romantic idiot was going to be very, very sorry.
     
                ‘Open the door, Mr Mitchell,’
Saunders growled. In a single long stride, the assistant pilot crossed the
cabin and jerked open the hatch.
     
                For an age, it seemed, no one spoke.
Then the stowaway, wavering slightly in the low gravity, came into the cabin.
He was completely self-possessed, and looked very pleased with himself.
     
                ‘Good afternoon, Captain Saunders,’
he said, ‘I must apologise for this sudden intrusion.’
     
                Saunders swallowed hard. Then, as
the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place, he looked first at Mitchell, then at
Chambers. Both of his officers stared guilelessly back at him with expressions
of ineffable innocence. ‘So that’s it,’ he said bitterly. There was no need for any explanations: everything was
perfectly clear. It was easy to picture the complicated negotiations, the midnight meetings, the falsification of records, the
off-loading of nonessential cargoes that his trusted colleagues had been
conducting behind his back. He was sure it was a most interesting story, but he
didn’t want to hear about it now. He was too busy wondering what the Manual of Space Law would have to say
about a situation like this, though he was already gloomily certain that it
would be of no use to him at all.
     
                It was too late to turn back, of
course: the conspirators wouldn’t have made an elementary miscalculation like
that. He would just have to make the best of what looked to be the trickiest
voyage in his career.
     
                He was still trying to think of
something to say when the PRIORITY signal started flashing on the radio board.
The stowaway looked at his watch.
     
                ‘I was expecting that,’ he said.
‘It’s probably the Prime Minister. I think I’d better speak to the poor man.’
     
                Saunders thought so too.
     
                ‘Very well, Your Royal Highness,’ he
said sulkily, and with such emphasis that the title sounded almost like an
insult. Then, feeling much put upon, he retired into a corner.
     
                It was the Prime Minister all right,
and he sounded very upset. Several times he used the phrase ‘your duty to your
people’ and once there was a distinct catch in his throat as he said something
about ‘devotion of your subjects to the Crown’. Saunders realised, with some
surprise, that he really meant it.
     
                While this emotional harangue was in
progress, Mitchell leaned over to Saunders and whispered in his ear:
     
                ‘The old boy’s on a sticky wicket,
and he knows it. The people will be behind the prince when they hear what’s
happened. Everybody knows he’s been trying to get into space for years.’
     
                ‘I wish he hadn’t chosen my ship,’ said Saunders. ‘And I’m not
sure that this doesn’t count as mutiny.’
     
                ‘The heck it does. Mark my words –
when this is all over you’ll be the only Texan to have the Order of the Garter.
Won’t that be nice for you?’
     
                ‘Shush!’ said Chambers. The prince
was speaking, his words winging back across the abyss that now sundered him
from the island he would one day rule.
     
                ‘I am sorry, Mr Prime Minister,’ he
said, ‘if I’ve caused you any alarm. I will return as soon as it is convenient.
Someone has to do everything for the first time, and I felt the moment had come
for a member of my family to leave Earth. It will be a valuable part of my
education, and will make me more fitted to carry out my duty. Goodbye.’
     
                He dropped the microphone and walked
over to the observation window – the only