The Mile Long Spaceship Read Online Free PDF Page A

at the problem. Several times he talked briefly to various passengers. "No, Mrs. Clevers, no message yet. I'll let you know.", or, "Sorry, Doctor, Miss Dryod cannot be returned to a hospital. Just do the best you can for her."
    Then Custens flashed him from the lifeboat. "Sir, someone is trying to get in here. Sounds like he's smashing away at the lock."
    Royle started from the engine room running, swung about and lifted his stun gun from the desk and made his way through the eerily echoing companionway toward the airlock. Bitterly he thought as he raced along, all he needed at that point was a mutiny.
    He checked his pace as he neared the door and automatically he noted that the lock had been smashed. Luxury liners weren't built for resistance against attacks from within. It made it clear however that the man did have a weapon. Royle grunted to himself and stepped inside.
    He acknowledged Custens' feeble gesture toward the other lifeboats by raising his own hand to his lips for silence. Quietly he edged his way toward the third lifeboat, keeping well in the shadows of the cradles, now vacant, their tiny crafts bearing frozen bodies out into the void of space. He could hear the man now, could hear his labored breathing and a scraping noise. There was a curse and a muffled gasp and Royle knew who it was on the other side of the lifeboat. Grimly he tightened his grasp on his gun and stepped forward to stand within six feet of Harmon Windlass.
    "That'll be all, Windlass. Drop the wrench!" he snapped.
    Windlass spun around and let the wrench fly at Royle's head in one continuing motion. He followed it, lunging in low as Royle ducked and felt the heavy tool swish past him. Before he could regain his balance, Windlass' momentum carried them both to the metal floor in a hard fall. Royle felt his gun forced from his hand to skid across the room and savagely he rolled once, taking the heavier man with him. He knew he would be no match for Windlass in an endurance battle, but almost joyously he reverted to the atavistic survival tactics every space cadet had to master. One knee came up and down hard, grinding into Windlass' midsection. Windlass sucked in air and his right hand jabbed at Royle's throat with an almost neck-breaking force. Royle shifted his weight and increased the pressure of his knee, at the same time using both hands forcing Windlass' head around, making him bring up his own hands to claw at Royle's fingers digging into his face. Abruptly Windlass ceased his struggle and his muscles sagged in unconsciousness. Royle got to his feet reluctantly. He was breathing heavily as he staggered across the room to retrieve the gun and the wrench. He leaned against the wall and waited for Windlass to start stirring. It took him almost five minutes before he clambered unsteadily to his feet.
    "We're not through yet, Royle," he said. Suddenly his eyes widened in shock and he took a step backward, and another, his stare, almost hypnotic, fixed behind Royle. He screamed hoarsely, turned and ran crazily from the airlock.
    Royle turned then and he could understand the man's terror. Custens, unable to see what was happening from his lifeboat, had come out and was standing by one of the cradles, swaying slightly. Royle swore bitterly, to himself, at the man's appearance, emaciated, shaking, hollow-eyed. "I'll make sure he heads for his room," he said and waved a salute as he followed after Windlass.
    He checked Windlass' room from the engine room and settled himself as comfortably as he could with the bruises that only now were making their presence felt. Windlass would try again—something. He wouldn't go near the airlock again, not so long as he thought Custens was in there. But he was shrewd and devious. His plans would bccome more involved and harder to forestall. A tight smile broke the deep lines of Royle's face as he remembered the personal satisfaction it had given him to be doing something physical and violent. It was the doing