Captain Lodar's compelling urge to return
to Earth was like the instinct of a dying
animal for its lair ... to die with its kind.
Nothing would stop him ... nothing except
death. And the death of the soaring Vulcan
would be his swan song to space.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories January 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Norport, U.S.A.
November 2, 2268
Honorable Board of Space Navigation,
Section 6.
Subject: 6B-5
Gentlemen:
In support of a petition on behalf of our client, we herewithsubmit a report of the Mutiny on the Vulcan dramatized for yourconvenience, but true in all essentials.
We beg you to note the extenuating circumstances and to considerthese in rendering your decision.
Respectfully yours,
Haley, Cronk, & Touchwife,
Attorneys at Law.
per Jonas Cronk, LLD., MSL., PhD.
The Spaceship Vulcan lay on a tangled mat of vegetation. A thin hazeof blue smoke drifted over it from the nearby Venusian village whereseveral of the grass huts were afire. Under the bulging side of theship twenty of the crew were boisterously herding a group of VenusMutes, forcing them into the entrance port of the hold. There was verylittle trouble; only one of the Mutes balked, and a sting ray soonquieted that.
In the glittering control room of the ship Ray Burk, NavigatorUnlimited, turned from the viewport with a frown.
"It seems a pity to burn down their shacks," he muttered.
He was a large young man with blond hair, carelessly dressed, yetstill bearing that touch of alert authority characteristic of a crackspaceship man. Since it was his first trip on the Vulcan he was stilla little out of place—not that he and Captain Lodar didn't understandeach other.
Lodar, pacing restlessly back and forth, made no reply. His blackeyebrows merely lifted sardonically as he continued his heavy strides.It was typical of Lodar, whose vast energy kept him ceaselessly active,but in the confines of a ship it was like being caged with a lion.
Ray turned back to the viewport. The village, burning sluggishly wasdesolate beneath the long column of smoke that rose in the still air.
Lodar's strides halted at the magnaflux, he twirled the detectorimpatiently. "Still clear," he muttered. Then, louder, "Fix a coursefor Earth, Burk. As soon as all are aboard, we'll take off."
Ray glanced quickly at Lodar, surprised at the sudden change of course,but he said nothing. This was Lodar's last flight, if all went well hewas through. Perhaps that was why he was so savagely nervous. Afterall, it was time he quit. Luck had been with him overlong.
The interphone jingled and Lodar answered it.
"All right, Campora," he said after a moment, "get set for takeoff.Then report up here to me." He turned to Ray. "Take off, Mister. Makeit snappy!"
Ray checked the safety lights, then signaled for power. He hoped McVanewas sober. The sad-faced little engineer just couldn't stay away fromhis bottle.
But McVane was at least sober enough, for the metal floor began tothrob gently as the converters on the lower deck groaned to life.While the machines built up to speed Ray adjusted the drive for a sixtydegree lift. He could hear the soft grate of the Benson Plates shiftingon the outer hull.
The interphone tinkled and Ray heard McVane's broad accents. "Ye canrip the bottom off her, Mister!"