The Jupiter Theft

Jameson looked across at the big screen with its magnified image. The points of light were lengthening. They turned into lines that crosshatched the dark seemingly at random, making a net across the sky. Maybury managed to catch a fleeting close-up of one of the creatures. It was reversing itself on its stick, twirling it around in a sinuous six-handed grasp. Around it, its thousands of companions presumably were doing the same. The crosshatched lines of light shrank to points again. The glowing patch out the window faded.

Somebody tapped Jameson on the shoulder. He turned around and saw Caffrey.

“My boys and I are going to station ourselves at the main spinlock and the other locks, Commander,” Caffrey stated. “Just a precaution. The main entry points to the ship shouldn’t be left unguarded.”

“Good idea,” Jameson responded. “Have you consulted with Tu Jue-chen?”

“Yeah, we settled the procedure. I’m taking three members of her Struggle Brigade with me.”

Jameson looked past Caffrey’s shoulder and saw the three husky young Chinese crewmen standing there. They all wore homemade Struggle badges pinned to their singlets: cardboard disks painted with the current slogans. One of them had gone so far as to transform himself into a walking poster, with the Chinese characters for ching hsing—“vigilance”—in red paint on his forehead. All three of them carried steel bars.

“Ray,?” Jameson said uneasily. “We don’t know that those creatures are hostile. We can’t afford to get off on the wrong foot with them.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” Caffrey said. “I’ll keep these fellows in hand.”

“It’s good to see that ship’s security is keeping the ship secure instead of protecting us from the exchange of scientific information,” Ruiz said dryly.

Caffrey turned reproachful eyes on Ruiz. “Doctor,” he said, sounding genuinely hurt.

Jameson watched the four of them shoulder their way through the crowd. They were met at the exit by Caffrey’s three beetle-browed assistants, who also carried steel bars.

“God help us all” Ruiz said. “Slogans and steel bars. What a way for two intelligent races to meet for the first time.”

“I don’t think Boyle will let any Cygnans inside, anyway,” Jameson said. “Germs. We’ll send a delegation outside to meet them. Let Caffrey guard the locks. It’ll keep him out of mischief.”

Ruiz looked thoughtful “What if—”

“Excuse me, Doctor,” Jameson said. He looked up at the balcony. Boyle was making urgent motions toward him. Jameson found a guy line and zipped up to his post. Kay Thorwald, looking worried, was sitting at a communications console while Captain Hsieh hovered over her.

“I can’t get anyone in Major Hollis’s territory to answer, Captain,” she said.

“Have Jarowski try to patch you through to his suit radio,” Boyle said through clenched teeth.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” Jameson said.

“Look,” Boyle said.

Jameson went over to the safety rail and looked down. With the drive on, even at one percent of g, there was the illusion of looking out of a very tall tower down toward the ballerina skirt of the ring. It was still spinning; they hadn’t bothered to stop it for the braking maneuver.

Jameson found Hollis’s pod as it swept by on its merry-go-round circuit. It was a plastic cocoon riding the inside of the wheel. Then he saw what Boyle was pointing at.

Hollis’s bomb squad, silvery ants in their spacesuits, were pouring out of the pod and assembling in a small group on the inner rim of the wheel. They were all sticking close to the safety railings. They were standing at right angles to Jameson’s point of view, and he knew that they, unlike he and the people on the bridge, had two thirds of their Earth weight.

The wheel swung them out of sight. When they came back into view thirty seconds later, they were marching in military formation toward the nearest spoke.

“What are they doing?” Jameson said.

“They’re going to fire their nukes,” Boyle said.

“Captain Boyle,” Hsieh said in a strangled voice. “I must insist that you put a stop to this unilateral action. The bomb crews are to work in concert. We have not yet reached a joint decision.”

“I’ll do my best,” Boyle said.

“Captain,” Kay said. “I’ve got him.”

“Hollis, can you hear me?” Boyle called into Kay’s mike.

“Hollis’s voice came, out of the little speaker on the console. “I can hear you, Captain. Make it quick.”

“I order you and your men to return to quarters immediately.”

“This is a military action, Captain. You have no jurisdiction.”

“Hollis, are you crazy? You don’t have the authority to commit the entire human race to a war with another civilization.”

“I have my contingency orders from Earth, Captain. I’m interpreting them as I see fit.”

“Hollis listen to me—”