Rogue Ship

19

'Are you going to hold an election?' Tellier asked.

The big ship, under Lesbee's command, had turned back and had picked up his friends. The lifeboat itself, with the remaining Karn still aboard, was put into orbit around Alta III and abandoned.

The two young men were sitting now in the captain's cabin.

After the question had been asked, Lesbee leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He didn't need to examine his total resistance to the suggestion. He had already savored the feeling that command brought.

Almost from the moment of Browne's death, he had observed himself having the same thoughts that Browne had voiced – among many others, the reasons why elections were not advisable aboard a spaceship. He waited now while Ilsa, one of his three wives – she being the younger of the two widows of Browne – poured wine for them and went softly out. Then he laughed grimly.

'My good friend,' he said, 'we're all lucky that time is so compressed at the speed of light. At a time ratio of five hundred to one, any further exploration we do will require only a few months or years at most. And so, I don't think we can afford to take the chance of defeating at an election the only person who understands the details of the new acceleration method. Till I decide exactly how much exploration we shall do, I shall keep our speed capabilities a secret. But I did, and do, think one other person should know where I have this information documented. Naturally, I am selecting First Officer Armand Tellier.'

He raised his glass. 'As soon as I have the full account written, you shall have a copy.'

'Thank you, Captain,' the young man said. But he was thoughtful as he sipped his wine. He went on finally, 'Captain, I think you'd feel a lot better if you held an election. I'm sure you could win it.'

Lesbee laughed tolerantly, shook his head. 'I'm afraid you don't understand the dynamics of government,' he said. 'There's no record in history of a person, who actually had control, handing it over.'

He finished with the casual confidence of absolute power: 'I'm not going to be presumptuous enough to fight a precedent like that.'

He was sitting there, smiling cynically, when the buzzer of the front door of the captain's cabin sounded in the adjoining room. Lesbee was aware of one of his wives going to the door and opening it. Surprisingly, then, there was not another sound. No greeting, no acknowledgment; total silence.

Lesbee thought, 'Whoever it is, has handed her a note.'

The instant analysis ended a feeling of uneasiness. He was about to settle back in his chair, when a man's rough voice came quietly from behind him.

'All right, Mr. Lesbee, your take-over is ended and ours is beginning.'

Lesbee froze. Then, turning, stared with an awful sinking sensation at the armed men who were crowding in behind the man who had spoken. He didn't know any of the men but he saw that they were laborers, garden men, and kitchen help. People of whose existence he had never been more than vaguely aware.

The leader of the group spoke again.

'Gourdy is my name, Mr. Lesbee, and we're taking over -these men and I – because we want to go home, back to Earth... Be careful, and you and your friends won't be hurt -'

Lesbee sighed with relief as those final words were spoken. All was not lost.