Rocket to Limbo

The officer just grunted and pulled the report sheet from the robot. “Okay,” he said finally. “You just wait here a while.” He went out, closing the cubicle door behind him.

Lars stared about the room, his puzzlement giving way to apprehension. What had gone wrong? Had there been a slip-up somewhere in the issuing of his orders? Certainly he had forgotten the countersignature from the port dispatching officer, but why should that bring Colonial Security Police down on him so swiftly? Surely there was nothing about the forthcoming voyage of the Ganymede that could interest Security so much—

Or was there?

He shook his head in confusion and settled down on the bench by the wall to wait.

He did not know how long he waited in the tiny, featureless room. His wrist chrono and pack had been removed before the Security man had closed the door. Lars rose and paced the room. He watched the current news-tape flickering on a screen in the corner for a moment or two, then snapped it off in disgust. Too many unanswered questions were crowding his mind for attention.

He knew that his position on the Ganymede had been obtained in the proper fashion, the same way all Officers-in-Training received their assignments. It was customary for each Star Ship to carry two fledgling officers, to prepare them by actual field experience for the duties they would soon assume in full on ships exploring, and opening new planets. The vast matching-plan system placed qualified men on the ships of their choice whenever there was an opening, unless the ships commander objected. To most men leaving the Academy, the choice of ship was not important, but with Lars it had been different. He had set his heart on the Ganymede.

When his appointment had come through he had hardly been able to contain his joy.

But now something had gone wrong.

After what seemed like hours, footsteps stopped outside the door. He heard the Security officer’s voice:

“You’re quite certain of this now, Doctor?”

“Yes, yes, there’s no question.” It was a voice Lars had never heard, a deep and pleasant voice. “He belongs on the ship, all right.”

“Well—if you’re sure. I’m sorry we caused all the trouble.”

“Nonsense. You couldn’t afford to take a chance.”

“No, we couldn’t, considering the peculiar nature of—well, you understand.”

“Perfectly. Now where are you keeping him?”

The door opened and the Security man came in, followed by a tall man of about thirty with sandy hair and hornrimmed glasses. “Looks like you’re in luck,” the Security man said to Lars. “I’ll get your things.”

When he had gone the sandy-haired man regarded Lars with a grin. “Boy, you picked the wrong time to go slipping up on little details like countersignatures! They’d liked to have had you breaking rocks on Titan for the next ten years. I imagine you’ll be wanting these.” He handed Lars his orders. They were now officially countersigned. “I’m Lambert, by the way. I think we’ll be working together for a while.”

“You’re the ecologist on the Ganymede?”

“If you want to call it that. General biologist and jack-of-all-biological-trades. You’ll find that ‘ecology’ covers a multitude of sins on an exploratory ship. But we’ll have time to break you in when you get settled a bit. We’re leaving Earth tonight, you know.”

“The shipping orders say next week!”

“Well! They do, now, don’t they!” Dr. Lambert chuckled. “It’s going to be a pretty short week.”

“Look, I don’t get this,” Lars exploded. “First they nail me like a—a spy or something when I try to board my own ship, and now you tell me we’re blasting a week ahead of schedule. What’s going on? Why is Security so worried about the Ganymede, anyway?”

Lambert shot him a warning glance as the Security man returned with his pack and chrono. “I think we’d better get aboard before these boys change their minds. Let’s go.”

Moments later they were riding the gantry crane up the smooth side of the Ganymede. Lars clutched his countersigned orders tightly in an inner breast pocket. He could see the yellow light of the entrance lock above him, and felt again the surge of excitement in his chest. His ship! For the moment he forgot that his questions were still unanswered.

“You’ll want to get bunked down first,” Dr. Lambert was saying. “The other Officer-in-Training is already aboard, of course. You’ll be bunkmates.”

Lars nodded. “Who is he? Another bio man?”

“Navigator. I thought you knew.” Lambert regarded Lars thoughtfully. “He’s a classmate of yours, says you two are old pals. Though I must admit I didn’t much like the way he said it.”

“What did you say his name was?”

“Brigham,” Lambert said. “Peter Brigham. Know him?”

Lars nodded slowly as the crane came to rest at the entrance lock.

Any ideas that he might have had that the voyage to Vega III would be a milk-run vanished from his mind with a groan.

He knew Peter Brigham, all right.

Chapter Two The Strange Cargo