PHANTOM DUEL
By FORD McCORMACK
Illustrated by STALLMAN
Farian jade was the most precious
jewel in history—and the most deadly!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Infinity Science Fiction, November 1955.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Will Archer idly poked one of the array of keys which studded thewings of his control chair. The pattern of stars which sprayed into atwelve-foot black bowl from a knobbed projector above his head winkedout and was promptly replaced by the rounding, yellow-green bulk ofVega VII, less than two diameters away.
He was not sorry that its image was receding steadily. Faria, asit was called in the Vega system, was about the size of Earth andits atmosphere was tolerable to humans—there the resemblance allbut ended. For its weather was insufferably hot, its topographyfantastically tortuous, and its life-forms, both animal andvegetable—and yes, mineral!—were of a general aspect that only abiologist could gaze on with fondness.
In order to do so, a whole group of kindred scientists had come all theway from far Earth six months before, and had chartered a ship at theinterstellar base on Vega IX.
They had also required an experienced and reliable "local" crew. Thepay had been good, and Will Archer was looking forward to spending mostof it quickly and freely on Vega IX.
He released the key and the screen automatically reoriented itself toprimary position—on course. The stars showing before him were actuallyalmost directly above his head, allowing for "yaw" due to offsetangular acceleration.
Eighty hours to reversal. A hundred more of "descent" to Vega IX. WillArcher shrugged. Eight days between him and the fanciest fleshpots inthe system. With a little more squirt—say about one-point-six G, whichanybody but a cardiac case could easily stand—they could cut the tripin half, and sit down with juice to spare. But the freak-chasers lovedcomfort, and with all those specimens to drool over, they'd probablyjust as soon start for Sol III on chem-drive! Well, they or theirsponsors were footing the bill, so—
The concave screen suddenly flickered to fifth position, showing a 120°range of the firmament, rotated 90° clockwise, to the pilot's left. Atthe same time, a buzzer started droning, and a yellow light blinked onthe gauge panel to his right.
Toward one side of the screen, the great disc of Vega, selectivelydimmed in projection, glowed like a blue-white moon. Near the center,a twelve-inch ring of light appeared and began to move slowly to theright. Whatever the ring indicated was too small and too distantto see, but to the unaided judgment its motion bore a disturbingresemblance to a collision course.
Evidently the detector-system thought otherwise, or a red light wouldbe flashing instead of a yellow one, an all-quarters alarm-bell wouldbe sounding instead of a buzzer, and the controls would have operatedautomatically to deflect the ship by a safe margin—or to the limit ofits occupants' capacity to absorb shock. Fortunately, such instanceswere vanishingly rare: space is incredibly roomy.
Beneath the yellow blinker, a set of clicking meters recorded theflight components of the foreign object. Its direction cosines werechanging slowly in a characteristically orbital manner; the object wasprobably a ship approaching the planet, although its velocity was a bithigh for this proximity. But that was another pilot's worry.
The ring was moving faster now, approaching the edge of the field.Just as it touched, it disappeared, and the screen flashed to firstposition. The ring reappeared at far left, sh