Mutiny in Space Read Free Page B

unlikely.
    Jory’s own status was equivocal. On the one hand, the Guild Directorate could hardly blame a first officer for a mutiny, and Rond was not the type to try shifting the blame onto him. If they made a bad return, one costly or embarrassing, say, then he would share in Rond’s disgrace — and without the hope of a half-pay post. Not that he’d be likely to take one. A good return, in which he figured well, would be to his own credit, also. An ordinary one? Ordinary from the distant viewpoint of the Directorate, that was … well … they’d watch him carefully from that time on. And any question which might come up would find his name remembered. “Cane? Isn’t that the Cane who was in the
Persephone?
” And that would be that.
    As if the Captain had been reading his mind, this was the precise point at which Rond chose to begin in talking, now, to the men.
    “You have separated yourselves from the boys,” he said. “I will recommend you for double pay dating from the mutiny and until we sign in aboard a Guild ship or other installation. I will further recommend that you all be advanced two places in rank, and — while I cannot promise — I should think a special service bonus very likely, too.”
    One of the men said, judiciously, “Well … I don’t think I’ll spend mine just yet.” A chuckle ran through the little group. Jory looked at the man who’d spoken. “Storm,” they called him, but he didn’t know if it was his real name or a nickname. A young man, with a pleasant and mildly ugly face. He knew little enough about any of the men — a first officer wouldn’t. But he was certainly going to get to know more about them, that was sure. And they, about him.
    Rond smiled faintly. “It would be foolish of me to minimize the dangers and difficulties of our position,” he said. “We are on a world all but unknown to the worlds we know, and about the only thing known about it previously was that it was here … and had a breathable atmosphere. Those two things were enough to convince me that I had the one thing we immediately needed — a place of refuge. A starting-point for the long road back. Our position is not only a hard one, it is a classic one. We are castaways. Other loyal members of mutinous ships have been murdered, or sent off in pettyboats which could not conceivably have brought them to any place of safety. We are fortunate.”
    He told them of groups which had made it back safely. Some, they had heard of …
Neptune VI, Anti-gone, Dancer, Guildsman II
. Others were new to them, although not all of these had been involved in mutiny — Leading Officer Shohet and ten men, when the
Jeremias
crashed on Hyperion
beta;
the four crewmen and two passengers of the
Bonavita
, disabled in magnetic storms between the Lace Pattern and the Rim, under the leadership of Dr. Oliphant; and, of course, the legendary but nonetheless actual exploits of the Six Stewards of Centauri. “Although I don’t expect it will take
us
twenty years, nor are we burdened with the ship’s treasury, as they were,” he commented.
    Their immediate job was to find fuel. If Valentine’s Planet supported a Technic-civilization, and if it was not a hostile one, this would be easy. But every hour which passed without contact decreased the likelihood that they were on a T-world. If there were inhabitants with even a rudimentary knowledge of the planet’s mineral resources, if they could get from them some sort of clue to the location of, say, petroleum —
    “Captain.”
    “Steward Mars. Yes.”
    “Why start at the bottom? Why not look for fissables right off?”
    Jory picked up that one. “Mars, if we’ve got a pre-T population here, they won’t know what a fissive is, while oil often seeps up to the surface, or releases gases which catch fire. And if we can crack oil, we can scan the whole world with the pettyboat, checking for radiation. If we find the right kind, good. If not, well, we’ve still got our