I USED TO KNOW HIM

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

      He burst into the repair bin area of the hangar and jerked his head

toward the tubes. When a ship came into the side of the mother ship,

they entered through a large port, which made it easier for the pilot of

the scout ship. But to leave the star ship, one had to install the

smaller craft into one of the many blast tubes on either side of the big

hangar.

      He looked frantically about the area for Danson and spotted the Terran

standing unobtrusively near the pilot entry to one of the blast tubes.

Nick Danson, garbed in the blue and yellow of a First spacer, was a twin

for Lors. He hoped anxiously that none of the repairmen would notice the

trick.

Lors grabbed a mechanic by the arm. "Spacer! I'm on an urgent mission.

Where can I get a ship?"

The young spacer looked thoughtful for a moment, then pointed toward a

tube on the other side of the hangar. "In that tube, sir."

"Thank you."

"I'll help you rig it," the spacer said.

"Never mind, I'll do it myself. Go about your work."

"Yes, sir." The spacer turned away, a puzzled look on his face.

     Lors motioned to Danson and headed toward the tube door. He could well

understand the spacer's bewilderment. While it was possible for the

pilot of a scout ship to launch his own craft, it was highly impractical

and not normally done. He hoped it didn't arouse their suspicions. He

yanked the door open and looked over his shoulder. Danson was almost to

him, running hard. Heads turned as the mechanics watched him run.

"Hurry!"

Danson reached the door and Lors shoved him into the tube.

"Where's Brice," Danson demanded.

     Lors slammed the door and whirled the wheel of the spider lock. He

didn't answer. He was too concerned with getting the door secured.

Through the port in the heavy door, he could see spacers gesturing and

pointing at the blast tube.

"Where's Brice!"

"He's dead." Lors secured the wheel and noticed that a Vice-commander

had come into the hangar area. "Get in the ship! Fast!"

Outside, the hanger workers were milling about like a fleet of bees.

Lors turned to Danson and saw him standing beside the ship, his eyes

wild with disbelief.

"Get in the ship!"

"Not without Brice!"

Lors exploded in his native tongue. "Get in that ship, Danson! How long

do you think it'll be before they come in the emergency door?"

Nick's eyes were wide and violent. "I'm not leaving Callum up here,

goddammit! Get out of my way!"

     Lors shoved the Terran as he came in and watched him backpedal into the

side of the scout ship. Danson muttered a curse and dived at the

spaceman. Lors had no choice in the matter. He swung hard, Terran style,

in what had come to be known as the "ole one-two." His left fist dug

into Nick's stomach and, when he bent with the blow, Lors brought his

right fist up from the floor and felt it smash into Danson's face. The

Terran slammed backwards against the ship, his head striking the metal

sides. He crumpled into an unconscious blue mound beside the ship.

      He wasted no time. Casting a glance at the lifeless panel that was the

emergency door at the far end of the blast tube, he grabbed Danson under

the arms and hauled him up the short ladder to the cockpit of the ship.

If they came through that emergency door, he was finished. He could not

push the button in the wall that would open the huge port in the side of

the star ship.

They would die if he did!

     It would be one thing, to free an alien, but to intentionally kill

members of his own race would mean disaster. Thirty seconds after he

pushed the wall button, would open the port at the end of the tube and

send the void of space rushing into the chamber. Anyone who did not have

adequate pressurization would be a fond memory.

     He stuffed Danson's body into the cockpit seat and buckled the strap

about him. Lors left the cockpit canopy open and leaped to the floor of

the tube. How long do I have? A minute? Two? Keep them outside, he

pleaded, and dived for the button.

"Lors!"

     The shout echoed hollowly in the tube. He glanced toward the door and

saw three mechanics inside the tube. Thunder and lightning! One second

after he had slammed, the button and all the doors would have locked

automatically and the port would have opened.

     Panicked by the sight of them, he whipped out his pistol and fired. In

the tube, the weapon sounded like a firecracker going off in steel

drum. The unarmed mechanics stopped dead, whirled and ducked back

through the door. In another four seconds, the armed guards would show

up.

     Lors shoved the weapon back into the holster and slammed his hand

against the button. It would lock them out now! He had his thirty

seconds now. He dived for the ship, dropped into the cockpit and slammed

the canopy forward, twisting the lock into place.

     His fingers moved over the controls and the engines whined into life as

the port opened before him. He was on his way! He revved the engines

impatiently as the big door rolled away and the stars burned in at him.

     Then he shoved the speed control forward and the scout ship surged out

into the blackness of space. His feet kicked at the pedals and his hands

worked the stick. The scout ship rolled over and streaked toward the

lighted ball of the earth.

     He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the mother ship. Tiny

flashes of brilliant light speared from the star ship. They lifted,

fluttered and followed him like a swarm of bees.

They were giving chase!