Destroyer of Worlds Read Online Free PDF Page B

history? I mean really studied it?’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I was thinking of Attila. Of how he managed to unite the tribes and sweep across plains to reach Eastern Europe. You know that he actually managed to reach Rome and would have taken it if they hadn’t bought him off.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘Think of it! A man, a barbarian in a sense, who managed to do the near impossible. He could have made himself Emperor, become a Caesar, ruled the entire known world!’
    ‘Instead of which,’ said West, dryly, ‘he died in pain to be burned by his followers. And after?’
    ‘Nothing,’ admitted Ivan. ‘He was a strong man and there was no one to follow him. All he had built vanished almost at once. The affiliated tribes, the vassal Germanic peoples, all those who had become one force beneath his horsetail standard, all dissolved as snow in the sun. But if he had lived another ten years, or if he had managed to leave a strong heir, or if the tribes had managed to work together instead of letting petty feuds destroy their unity — who knows?’
    ‘If pigs had wings they would fly.’ West scanned the instruments and threw a switch. ‘Pinnace One to Mission Control. Frank?’
    ‘Receiving.’ Weight’s face appeared on the screen. ‘Anything as yet, Douglas?’
    ‘No. We could be flying into a vacuum.’
    ‘You are.’
    ‘I was talking metaphorically. There’s nothing out here but nothing.’
    ‘Which is the way we want it to be.’ Weight smiled. ‘Maintain alignment, Douglas. It’s important.’
    ‘Will do.’
    The screen went blank as West broke the connection and again he checked his instruments. The target-star was a fraction out and he returned it to the centre of the crosshairs with a deft touch on the controls. It was a big, blue-white sun and it was known to have planets that they were on their way to investigate. That was when his small fleet of Pinnaces would come into their own as their mother ship, the Ad Astra, remained in orbit.
    ‘Skipper!’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I — nothing.’ Ivan frowned at the instruments. ‘I thought I saw a flicker just then. One of the receptors registered. At least I thought it did.’
    Dreaming or not he would have caught it and it was proof of his efficiency that West had not. For a moment he hesitated, studying the instruments, then again made contact with the mother ship.
    ‘Frank?’
    ‘Here.’ Weight looked from the screen. ‘Trouble?’
    ‘Could be. Did you spot anything?’
    ‘Such as?’
    ‘An energy emission of some kind. One of the receptors kicked just now. No repetition as yet which could mean an internal malfunction or a local nexus of limited extent.’
    ‘Nothing registered here, Douglas.’
    ‘Then it could be local, but you’d better maintain constant observation and monitoring. We could be heading into what we’re looking for.’
    West glared at what lay ahead. To the naked eye there was nothing, to the instruments the same, yet something was waiting there, he sensed it, felt it with every fibre of his being.
    Grimly he resisted the urge to run. To turn the Pinnace and head back to the Ad Astra as fast as the ship would travel.
    Ivan Gogol felt the same.
    He shifted in his chair, easing his body against the restraints, his hands reaching for the controls only to fall back as he realised that to touch them would be useless. West had the control and would retain it unless there was a good reason why he should not. And a feeling, no matter how strong, was not reason enough for the Skipper to abandon his authority.
    But, if he were dead?
    An odd thought and Ivan did his best to banish it. He liked West and admired him and envied the man his skill and position. One day, with luck, he too would be a master-pilot with a Pinnace of his own. One day, again with luck, he might reach up to become Head of a Section. One day.
    He shivered, conscious of a sudden chill, then was suddenly gasping for breath. Blinking he stared ahead, concentrating on the stars, seeing