CHAPTER 19. A CRISIS FOR HARRY.
Charlotte had worked very hard. She had thoroughly cleaned and disinfected the galley and had then been instructed to clean the bathrooms. Fearful of what would happen if she refused, Charlotte had done as instructed without a whimper or a protest.
At long last she had been allowed to return to her quarters feeling dirty, dishevelled and totally unfeminine. For a few minutes she luxuriated in a hot shower, shampooed her hair and as the water washed away the dirt, she began to feel more human. She was relieved that a clean pair of coveralls had been left out for her. When she had dried herself she pulled them on, laid down on her bunk, stretched like a cat and was asleep in minutes.
Her awakening was less tranquil. She was roughly shaken back to consciousness by Morgan. "Get up... you have things to do today.”
“What things?” groaned Charlotte as she struggled to come to her senses. “You can clean my quarters for a start.”
Charlotte was instantly awake and gave Morgan an apprehensive look. “Your quarters?”
“Yes... my quarters. We will have some breakfast and I will take you there...hurry up.”
Reluctantly she dragged herself out of bed. “If you were a gentleman you would knock before entering a lady’s room."
“I am not a gentleman and you are no longer a lady. You are mine now. I offered you marriage and you rejected me... you obviously prefer it the other way, so that is how it will be... you will learn to do as you are told or life will become very unpleasant.”
Harry was back to normal apart from some twinges in his ribs and he looked very theatrical in his all black outfit; gone were the nasal tones and his arm was out of the sling. However there was nothing theatrical about the short, leather whip that he was toying with in his hands. It was not an accident that there were nine strands to it; again Morgan had remembered his piratical connection. Charlotte, fearing the worst, had a quick wash and cleaned her teeth, then followed Morgan out of the cabin to the bridge where breakfast had been laid out for them. Morgan swaggered onto the bridge, obviously enjoying his new, assumed role as a dominant master.
“What would you like?” he asked. “Nothing, thank you,” she replied curtly.
"Sit and eat,” said Morgan threateningly.
Charlotte sat and ate. As breakfast was consumed Charlotte became very introspective and arrived at a few decisions. Firstly, she hated Morgan and no amount of whipping would make her succumb. Secondly, she would rather be dead than be his slave. So she decided there and then that she would kill either herself or Morgan, depending on which opportunity offered itself first.
Harry finished his breakfast and looked lecherously at Charlotte. “We have wasted enough time... we will go to my quarters now.”
“I will not go to your quarters,” she said in a small voice. “Yes you will,” threatened Morgan.
“No. ..I will never succumb to you. ..” insisted Charlotte.
Harry back-handed her and she fell to the floor, face down, sobbing. The whip was raised above his head. "I'll show you who your Master is now,” screamed Morgan, his eyes bright with anticipation.
“Captain.” shouted the radio operator. “Come quickly, Base Two is under attack!”
“What?” shrieked Morgan, who had suddenly lost interest in whipping Charlotte. He swung the whip down with all his might but the action was reduced to farce; in spite of his strength. The low gravity saved Charlotte from any real harm and the leather thongs floated gently down on to her back. Harry threw the whip down in disgust and hurried to the Radio Operator.
Seizing the chance to escape, Charlotte picked herself up and fled back to her quarters, where she stretched out on her bed sobbing her heart out. Meanwhile Morgan was listening to the message from Base Two.
"... there are three in the attacking party... two men and what appears to be a huge robot... they have already put the cannon out of action and have made a transmission in some form of code to Earth we are in the process of sending out an attacking force to engage them."
Harry grabbed the microphone. "Can you identify them?”
"Negative, Skipper, but they look like Company suits... apart from the robot. I can't even see a ship."
"Let me know when you have something to report….”
"Yes, Skipper... I had better lend a hand now... over and out"
"Damned fools!” raged Morgan. "They have allowed themselves to be surprised. ..What is our E.T.A. at Base One?"
“Fourteen hours, Skipper,” replied the First Officer.
"Good! We will drop off the work party and then return to Base Two and see what has happened."
Harry turned to the Radio Operator. “Let me know immediately when they report back.”
“As soon as I hear from them, Skipper."
Harry went to the pilot's chair in the centre of the bridge and sat down. “Get these pots cleared away,” he shouted. Then he lapsed into silence. The silence turned to moroseness as time passed without any word; then the moroseness turned into a form of anger. As this emotion passed, Morgan became very worried. He had tried to call his Base on a closed channel several times, but there had been no response.
“We have Base One on the scope, Skipper," reported the First Officer.
Harry pulled himself together with an effort. "Prepare retros two, three, five and six for a twenty second burn... and secure the prisoners."
Ten minutes later Harry treated the Black Swan to some unusually rough treatment as his haste overcame his natural caution. Harry fired the four retros instead of the usual three and delayed the manoeuvre until the last moment. Ten minutes later he had safely matched orbits with the large cluster of rocks, which formed this rich claim. The five diminutive rockets which had been disabled and placed there as living quarters were clearly visible in the lee of the protective wall.
"Assemble and kit out the prisoners as quickly as possible,” ordered Morgan.
"What about the Woman, Skipper?" asked the First Officer.
"She stays aboard.....leave her strapped to the bunk.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
"How are you doing, Neville?" asked Michael. "About another ten minutes, Sir."
Neville and 762 had been working to make the radio functional. It was difficult because the hull of the Alien ship was non-metallic. To overcome the problem, Neville had designed a full-wave aerial from rods and wire which was accurate to a millimetre in length. The finished article was coiled all round the Command Area which was now a scene of orderly confusion.
Kandras was genuinely in awe of the way Neville had tackled the problem and was sitting at the controls, fascinated by what he saw. To overcome any power supply problems, Neville had brought several external battery packs with him and these had now been fitted and tested. In order that the on-board computer could be used to obtain a' fix' on the Black Swan, should it answer their call, Neville had patched the radio into the existing Alien set.
The Alien vessel was cruising slowly on the Sun side of the Asteroid belt. In truth, neither Michael nor Kandras had any idea where to search for Morgan, so Michael had decided to trick Morgan into answering a radio call so that they could quickly track him down.
Neville ran some checks on the make-shift radio and then declared it operational.
“Good!..... Well done Neville,” said Michael. He then turned to Kandras. “Would you have any objection to us giving this vessel a name ?”
"None at all, if it suits your purpose.”
“I think, under the circumstances we will give her a seafaring name,” smiled Michael. “I think we should call her the Revenge….. That should get him thinking.”
Everybody was in agreement. Michael picked up the Microphone. “Is the computer ready, Kandras?”
“Yes, Michael….. we will get an accurate fix if you can get him to talk to you.”
Neville selected the waveband he had discovered in the radio booth where they had all come so close to death.
"O.K. Skipper... go ahead when you are ready."
* * * * * * * * * * *
One by one the prisoners were brought down to the cargo bay of the Black Swan. The last one to arrive was Ben Rimmer. As they waited for their spacesuits, they quietly conferred amongst themselves.
“We're all ready to fight, Ben," confirmed Archie Murphy under his breath.
“Arnie and Henry are really spoiling for a show-down,” added Sergeant Brody.
“Well, I think it is now or never,” breathed Ben. “When I give the signal try and get the weapons off them and put them out. ..O.K. ..are you with me?”
“Yes, Sir!” chorused Archie and Frank. “Pass the message on then."
"Aye, aye, Sir…”
Soon both the guards and the prisoners were clad in their spacesuits. Apart from Morgan himself, every crew member had been assigned to settle the prisoners in. Harry had previously briefed the prisoners about what he expected of them. He had promised to return to check them as they reached Earth orbit and if they had collected enough gems, meaning a hold full, he would take them off and abandon the claim while it went round the Sun. On the other hand, if they failed to satisfy his needs, then they would have to weather the treacherous passage round the Sun themselves: it would probably mean certain death in the small craft that were available.
However, in his own mind, Harry thought that he was being fair; he was leaving them plenty of food, water and oxygen supplies. In fact their first priority was to unload this substantial amount of cargo. With undue haste and unaccustomed sloppiness, the supplies were thrown out of the Black Swan and some started to drift away. All the prisoners were catching, ferrying and stowing the packages into the holds of the small rockets. One large crate was drifting towards the nose of the Black Swan.
Sergeant Brody signalled the guard that he was going after it and he nodded assent; he also made a sign to Ben Rimmer who casually alerted Arnie and Henry as he drifted past. Suddenly Ben's hands came to his throat and he began to convulse and grab at his oxygen pipe. To all intents and purposes he had run out of air. Two of the guards rushed towards him to try and help, their eyes blind to the real danger which consisted of Arnie and Henry seemingly trying to help as well.
Ben cleverly drifted behind a large boulder and had a miraculous recovery as Arnie and Henry attacked the two guards from behind. Arnie went for the weapon and simply tore it from the surprised guard's fingers. As the guard swung round, Arnie shot him... he had no way of knowing that the weapon was set on 'kill' but it was. The force of the blast burned a hole in the guard's suit killing him instantly.
Henry seized his man from behind and grabbed the weapon at both ends and pulled it against his man on the neck-line. He then placed his foot in the middle of the man's back and pulled with all his might. The guard's neck snapped like a rotten carrot.
Meanwhile, as the diversion was happening, Sergeant Frank Brody had unerringly gone for the big cannon and had triumphantly pulled out the primary firing circuit and smashed it on the cannon's base mounting. It was now so much ornamental junk.
As the action outside dissolved into mayhem, inside the Black Swan Harry, blissfully ignorant of the trouble, was startled to receive a signal.
“. ..Calling Black Swan. ...Calling Black Swan…….Please acknowledge.” Harry frantically grabbed the microphone and replied. “This is Black Swan ...Is that Base Two. .? Give me a status report... I repeat... give me a status report.”
"Negative, Harry this is not Base Two... Base Two no longer exists... end of status report,” said the radio sarcastically.
“Who are you. ..? Are you the Military?”
“Negative again, Harry, this is Captain Michael Robert Stephens. ..late of the Atlas but now in the Revenge. Do you remember me Harry?”
“It can't be. ..he is dead. ..what is your real name?”
“I'm coming to haunt you, Harry, and I'm feeling very angry. You weren't nice to me, Harry, so I'm coming to find you."
“You'll never find me... I'm not scared of you anyway.”
"You should be... I have a secret weapon, Harry, you'll like it."
“I've heard all about you and your big robot... whoever you are... I'll blow you away if you try to interfere with me,” and with that he turned off his set.
He looked out just in time to see Sergeant Brody disable the cannon. "What the hell. .?” said a badly shaken Morgan and he rushed to the porthole to witness a running battle which his men were obviously losing. The professionals and their hard training were making short work of Harry's motley crew, though they fought bravely enough.
Harry suddenly felt very vulnerable; his world was collapsing around him. He sealed the ship using remote controls and gently edged it away from the rock field, leaving his men to fight it out. Harry was a true believer in the old adage that there was 'no honour amongst thieves.' Once clear, he locked in the coordinates for Mars, strapped himself in and accelerated the old ship as fast as he dared.
In the privacy of her cabin, Charlotte was also feeling very vulnerable as she laid there strapped to her bunk. The straps themselves were saving her from serious injury, but it was most uncomfortable and she had plenty of bruises and chaffing marks to show for the experience. She hoped that he would forget she was there and, at this moment in time, she had no inkling that things were not going to Harry's liking. On the bridge the only thought on Harry's mind was to put as much distance as possible between himself and his pursuers.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"Did you get a fix?" asked Michael excitedly.
"Of course,” smiled Kandras . "Well let's go then," he enthused.
"This particular source is in a highly elliptical orbit, according to the computer fixes, and is also travelling very quickly... it does sound as though this is the one."
“Can we be there quickly?”.
"A matter of minutes, if we try hard... Mister Johnson and 762... please come with me to the crew room. You will have to stay there until we arrive."
Kandras took them through and sat them in two chairs similar to the ones on the bridge; he explained about the green orbs and their function. Both nodded their understanding of the situation and Kandras returned to the controls.
He studied his instruments very carefully and ascertained that his proposed route was clear and then the newly named ship Revenge gathered way. It streaked up to about three times the speed of light and after what was only a matter of minutes, the orbs transferred to the rear and the deceleration started. "I have them on the scope," said Kandras. "There is not a large ship with them though."
"He must have flown the coop," said Michael, annoyed at being frustrated yet again.
"Can you do along range sweep and see if you can pick him up?"
Kandras twiddled some knobs and tuned his set. "Yes... there is a large ship on a course which suggests it has left here recently... it looks as though it is heading for the fourth Planet. I'll get a computer fix on his course and then we can pick him up later.”
Neville and 762 now joined them on the bridge. “Neville, I want you to stay with the radio... 762, put on your suit and the other protection device. We don't want you losing that new leg again, do we?"
762 grinned and was ready in minutes. As Kandras gently manipulated the Revenge towards the other ships, they were able to see that a battle was in progress.
"Ben has taken the initiative," shouted Michael excitedly.
"It looks as though they are pinned down by those guards in that cluster of rocks over there," replied 762.
Michael could see that there were several inert bodies floating about. This battle was for real and no quarter was being given nor asked for. None of the combatants even noticed as the sleek, black ship matched orbits close to the other vessels. Michael, Kandras and 762 left the ship together, then split up. Kandras and 762 switched on their devices and enveloped in their light green aura headed towards the guards’ stronghold.
As soon as they were seen, a hail of murderous fire was directed at them. One by one they succumbed to the mental control wielded by Kandras; 762 collected the weapons and then secured the unconscious guards.
Michael had a similar experience as he approached the terrible trio of Ben Rimmer, Arnie Sidebottom and Henry Hurst, but their reaction was different. After a few shots had failed to penetrate the screen, their professionalism came to the surface. They put there weapons aside to save ammunition and Arnie and Henry, seeing that the approaching figure was unarmed, prepared to tackle him physically. Michael did not fancy that idea at all, so he stopped short and tried to communicate. Morgan had taken the radios out of their suits so voice contact was impossible.
Michael tried some soothing gestures, but they were too fighting mad to take any notice. Suddenly they went for their guns and started blasting again until the lack of effect caused them to stop. This time they were more apprehensive as the forbidding four-armed figure of Kandras arrived on the scene.
One by one he immobilised them and then the battle was over. For safety's sake, Kandras picked up all the stragglers and immobilised them as well.
Michael picked the largest of the rockets, it was the one owned by the American prospecting team, and gathered the dead, the wounded and the immobilised into it's hold.
Michael spoke to Neville on the radio. "Neville, can you try to raise the Hornet and tell them to get a repair and salvage crew out here and inform them that we have some prisoners.”
“Yes, Sir... I will need the coordinates of this rock field and its projected speed and trajectory.
Michael furnished him with the necessary information then went about the task of sorting and identifying the inert bodies.
As the helmets were removed, he was relieved to see that his Crew were, for the most part, safe and well. This feeling of elation faded when he realised that Charlotte was not there and, to his annoyance, felt angry as he began to be plagued by visions and feelings of Charlotte's suffering back on board the Black Swan. He did not know if these feelings were real or imagined, but he did know that there was now a deep-rooted hatred of Morgan within him that would not rest until they met face to face.
With Kandras' help he began to restore the Crew. "Ben... Ben... wake up now.”
Slowly and painfully Ben opened his eyes and saw Michael. In his confused state he started to ramble. “Captain? I must be dead ...I m sorry I failed you...”
“You're not dead Ben and neither am I... pull yourself together... you have done well. I want you to meet my friend Kandras... you have seen him before, Ben... in that strange . craft.”
Ben woke up with a jerk when he saw Kandras but soon regained control of himself.
“Is Charlotte still on board the Black Swan, Ben?"
“Yes, Sir, just her and Morgan.”
Michael went tight-lipped at this piece of unwelcome news, but carried on with the job in hand. Soon, most of his Crew were restored to consciousness but were still a little groggy. Kandras had stared in amazement as the handsome, dark features of Henry Hurst had been revealed. On his own planet there were no such distinctions in skin colour.
The final bill for the showdown was quite severe. One of the crewmen from the Titan had been killed outright, Ron Naylor had been badly stunned and Sergeant Brody had suffered a broken arm as a rock fragment had sheered off. David Boothman had collected a very deep cut in his leg as a piece of crystal had shattered, and he was also suffering the effects of partial depressurisation. Alfred Brown was already working on these injuries and those of the guards…. who had fared less well. Four out of the eight guards had been killed. One had died of suffocation in a struggle with Archie Murphy, just after he had killed the crewman from the Titan Two others had been shot and the fourth had been killed by Henry, who had broken his neck.
Three had been paralysed by Kandras and the remaining guard was unconscious, having been shot by Ben with his own gun. This guard had also suffered a broken wrist in the struggle for the weapon.
The worst part for Michael had been when Arnie Sidebottom had come to. He was still fighting mad and had woken up punching. In his confused state he had not recognised his Captain, so, in an effort to cut through his hysteria, Michael had resorted to the familiar background of Military training.
“Stand to attention when you address a Superior Officer.” he shouted.
Arnie had reacted and pulled himself to his feet. As the realisation of where he was and who he was talking to had sunk in, he had burst into tears and embraced his Captain in the only show of emotion that Michael had ever seen him have.
It did not last long. Arnie soon pulled himself together and said, "Gawd, Sir, you look just like an Egyptian puff in that frock.”
When Michael had shown him who the tunic actually belonged to, he had gone a little pale and added, “Quite smart, really.”
Everybody, including Kandras, had laughed at his discomfort and it had helped to ease the tension they were all suffering from. Michael was relieved that his people had accepted Kandras at face value and had shown no hostility towards him. He, in turn, had gone out of his way to make them feel welcome.
Michael pulled his First Officer to one side. “Ben... I'm putting you in charge here. I’ve sent for a patrol ship and a salvage crew to come to your assistance. I will take Arnie with me and leave Henry with you, I'm sure he will enjoy guarding your prisoners. By the way, I have Neville with us in Kandras' ship, so I will keep him and leave you my security guard 762. He is an intelligent and useful chap.”
“Thank you, Sir!”
“Just try and organise things so that you can be ready to move as soon as possible. We must get after Morgan and Miss Linaker immediately before she comes to any more harm. Call the Crew together now, Ben, and I will speak to them.”
Two minutes later the Crew were all assembled. Michael thanked them for their fortitude and explained what was happening next and what he expected from them. He also explained that the three vessels had been recaptured and their colleagues freed. This information was greeted with a chorus of cheers.
As he prepared to leave, he had a private word with Ben. “I know you were not treated too well by these criminals, Ben, but I want you to make sure that they do not receive any more harsh treatment than is absolutely necessary. It is for the Authorities to punish them, not us.”
“Aye aye, Sir. You have my word.”
As they exited, Michael turned to his Crew. “I'll see you all back on Earth when this mess is cleared up and we will have a celebration. With any luck Sir Richard will be footing the bill. ...au revoir.”
The three companions jetted across to the Alien ship and prepared to give chase.