Greylorn | Page 5

hall shining on the floor. No one
entered. Kramer was still fumbling, unsure of himself. At every
surprise with which I presented him, he was paralyzed, expecting a trap.
Several minutes passed in tense silence; then the door swung wider.
"I'll be forced to kill the first man who enters this room," I said in a
steady voice. I hadn't picked up the gun.
I heard urgent whispers in the hall. Then a hand reached in behind the
shelter of the door and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened,
since I had opened the main switch. It was only a small discomfiture,
but it had the effect of interfering with their plan of action, such as it
was. These men were being pushed along by Kramer, without a clearly
thought out plan. They hardly knew how to go about defying lawful
authority.
I called out, "I suggest you call this nonsense off now, and go back to
your quarters, men. I don't know who is involved in this, yet. You can
get away clean if you leave quietly, now, before you've made a serious
mistake."
I hoped it would work. This little adventure, abortive though it was,
might serve to let off steam. The men would have something to talk
about for a few precious days. I picked up the needler and waited. If the
bluff failed, I would have to kill someone.
Distantly I heard a metallic clatter. Moments later a tremor rattled the
objects on the shelf, followed a few seconds later by a heavy
shuddering. Papers slid from my desk, fluttered across the floor. The
whiskey bottle toppled, rolled to the far wall. I felt dizzy, as my bunk
seemed to tilt under me. I reached for the intercom key and flipped it.
"Taylor," I said, "this is the Captain. What's the report?"
There was a momentary delay before the answer came. "Captain, we've
taken a meteor strike aft, apparently a metallic body. It must have hit us

a tremendous wallop because it's set up a rotation. I've called out
Damage Control."
"Good work, Taylor," I said. I keyed for Stores; the object must have
hit about there. "This is the Captain," I said. "Any damage there?"
I got a hum of background noise, then a too-close transmission. "Uh,
Cap'n, we got a hole in the aft bulkhead here. I slapped a seat pad over
it. Man, that coulda killed somebody."
* * * * *
I flipped off the intercom and started aft at a run. My visitors had
evaporated. In the passage men stood, milled, called questions. I keyed
my mike as I ran. "Taylor, order all hands to emergency stations."
It was difficult running, since the floors had assumed an apparent tilt.
Loose gear was rolling and sliding along underfoot, propelled forward
by centrifugal force. Aft of Stores, I heard the whistle of escaping air
and high pressure gasses from ruptured lines. Vapor clouds fogged the
air. I called for floodlights for the whole sector.
Clay appeared out of the fog with his damage control crew. "Sir," he
said, "it's punctured inner and outer shells in two places, and fragments
have riddled the whole sector. There are at least three men dead, and
two hurt."
"Taylor," I called, "let's have another damage control crew back here
on the triple. Get the medics back here, too." Clay and his men put on
masks and moved off. I borrowed one from a man standing by and
followed. The large exit puncture was in the forward cargo lock. The
room was sealed off, limiting the air loss.
"Clay," I said, "pass this up for the moment and get that entry puncture
sealed. I'll put the extra crew in suits to handle this."
* * * * *

I moved back into clear air and called for reports from all sections. The
worst of the damage was in the auxiliary power control room, where
communication and power lines were slashed and the panel cut up. The
danger of serious damage to essential equipment had been very close,
but we had been lucky. This was the first instance I had heard of
encountering an object at hyper light speed.
It was astonishing how this threat to our safety cleared the air. The men
went about their duties more cheerfully than they had for months, and
Kramer was conspicuous by his subdued air. The emergency had
reestablished at least for the time the normal discipline; the men still
relied on the Captain in trouble.
Damage control crews worked steadily for the next seventy-two hours,
replacing wiring, welding, and testing. Power Section jockeyed
endlessly, correcting air motions. Meanwhile, I checked almost hourly
with Survey Section, hoping for good news to consolidate the improved
morale situation.
It was on Sunday morning, just after dawn