XX


Miss Emily Hackenschmidt was not the sort of girl to sit by idly and watch menfolks go off intrepidly into danger. She was, in fact, a mighty adventurous girl, who more often than not was the first to poke her pert little nose into peril, leaving it for the menfolks to catch up with her if and when they could.

Hence she highly resented the way Ajax coddled her. Why should he be the only one to explore the unknown invisible planet they had discovered? Why should she be left behind, while he—the great lug—had all the fun? Was she supposed to sit here dabbling with her knitting, or something?

The longer she sat the more curious she got. She had a little lunch and puffed irritably on a stimulette, and waited and waited and waited for Ajax to return. But nothing seemed to happen; nothing at all. She began to fidget. She found it harder and harder to sit still… eventually, she got up and paced the cabin deck. Still no Ajax. Wouldn’t you think (thought Emily) the stupid lummox would call her on the radio or something, just to let her know he was all right, and that he had not been shot down by invisible monsters, or something? Nope. Not Ajax! He was out there somewhere, having all the fun, while she had to cool her heels behind in safety. He went to adventure, while she had to stay here and mind the spaceship. It wasn’t fair!

Finally she could stand it no longer. Setting her small chin grimly, Emily climbed into her spacesuit and set off after the man she loved, and would love (right now) to clobber over the skull with a nice blunt instrument.

She climbed out on the hull and made her way down the sloping nose into the invisible compartments through whose outermost layer the Destiny had smashed. After a bit, she found the invisibility-field wearing off and could make out vaguely her surroundings as they faded into vision again.

Unlike Ajax, she recognized her surroundings.

She was on Ajaxia. She knew it, because she had once helped clean up this very corridor. She couldn’t be mistaken: there was that Utah-shaped patch of rust below the stern-cock outlet, and that white patch where she’d forgotten to mop up all the detergent from the corners.

Not only that, but she picked up a long-since-fallen hairpin she knew at a glance for her own.

Her brows frowned in puzzlement.

It was crazy: surely this was Ajaxia—but it couldn’t be Ajaxia! Because Ajaxia was out there in space, hopping about, being chased hither and thither by a flock of frothing mad Saturnians. She had been watching it elude the Amoeba-Men, while waiting for Stupid to return; there had been no doubt about it. There was only one planetoid-sized spaceship known, and she would have bet her bottom credit on it!

Miss Emily Hackenschmidt was a practical young lady of great strength of character. She was not given much to a study of philosophical problems, or puzzles in logic. If she were standing on Ajaxia, and if Ajaxia seemed to be way out in space, then it only seemed to be. Emily could not debate the reliability of evidence at hand, or underfoot, rather. Hence the elusive planetoid-ship which was keeping the Saturnian patrol hopping was only some kind of a mirage… an illusion… projected from the stationary Ajaxia, rendered invisible by some unknown process.

There was little difficulty in accepting such a theory. After all, the planetoid-ship was packed to the walls with unknown and mysterious machinery created at a high level of technological sophistication by the lost Asteroidal civilization of yore. Obviously, the Wuj, or whoever was running the kingdom at the moment, had fiddled around and figured out how to use some of the machines. It was that simple.

Emily pressed forward. She thought of using the intercom on the wall to phone the Wuj, but then decided to see if she couldn’t find Ajax first. He’d be poking about here somewhere. She’d be running into him any moment now.

Emily went down the corridor, and past a series of unused rooms, down a cross-walk and into another main artery—and spotted a spacesuited figure ahead. Ajax… ?

She was about to call him over her suit-phone, when she saw it was not one figure—but two.

The second one looked for all the world like a sort of robot octopus, with a globular body from which protruded eight jointed legs like a mass of waterpipes.

Not more robots! Not on Ajaxia!

Then she noticed an odd fact: the steel-plated octopus was sneaking up behind the human figure, with a gun.

The figure looked like Ajax, so far as she could tell from behind; at least, the spacesuit was similar. Anyway, Emily had to do something—something—she couldn’t just stand helplessly by and watch a human spacesuit be shot down by a mechanical octopus…

What could she do? Shoot down the octopus!

She drew her own pistol gingerly. During her EMSA training, Emily had received many hours of experience with a blaster, and she could pick off a robot octopus at this range with the best of them. She lifted her pistol.

Wait a minute. What’s a robot octopus doing on Ajaxia?

She stopped short.

Her mind whirling, she tried to think of who might be on Ajaxia who would in any way look like a robot octopus. Although the circle of her acquaintances was large and varied, there was only one candidate who could possibly qualify on both points…

That was no robot octopus; that was the Wuj.

Sneaking up behind Ajax with a drawn blaster? Why should the Wuj attack his beloved monarch, fearless leader, kindly sovereign, and dearest friend?

Anyway, what could Emily do about it? Shoot the Wuj? Of course not! Shoot Ajax! Don’t be silly!

Being a woman, she did the only logical thing, under the circumstances. She yelled her head off.


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