Hewitt said, 'We could almost determine the nature of a society by the kind of killing it permits and justifies. And when we look at who in that society is responsible for the administration of death and other penalties, we see that the killers have the sanction of the political leaders who, in turn, have broad mass support for their actions.'

He continued, 'Here on the ship you've had a somewhat telescoped version of all this. And now that you're in a transition from one system to another, you can't bring yourself to tolerate the particular violence that was a part of the old system. If there's anyone here who actively opposed the old system, I'll be glad to hear what he has to say.'

There was a long silence, and then former First Officer Miller raised his hand. 'I opposed the old system,' he said.

One of the scientists made a spluttering sound, and then said in a tone of muffled anger, 'Mr. Miller, I cannot accept that statement without evidence.'

'I hated this guy Gourdy's guts from the moment I saw him,' said Miller indignantly.

'What about your blankety-blank guts when you were Browne's lackey?' said the scientist in a thick voice.

Miller looked surprised. 'Mr. Browne was the lawful captain of this ship!' he protested.

Hewitt waved the two men to silence. Then, smiling faintly, he faced the group. 'You see what I mean,' he said.

The young scientist, Roscoe, muttered, 'I don't really get it. But I have a feeling it's there. All right, so you promise him immunity. What are you going to do with the so-and-so after that?'

'Fit him into the new system,' said Hewitt frankly.

'Suppose he won't fit?'

'I'm willing to take the chance,' said Hewitt. 'Now, is it all right if I try to deal with him?'

Several men shifted their gazes when he looked directly at them but there was no vocal opposition.

Gourdy laughed uproariously when Hewitt called him. 'Look,' he said, 'we're down to the stuff that separates the men from the boys. And you've got the boys and I've got the men. With the supplies we have in the connecting storerooms, we can hold out for years.'

Hewitt suggested that the scientific potentialities available to the attackers would be decisive. He finished, 'So I can only assume that you don't trust my offer. Is that it?'

'Sure, I trust it.'

'Then what is it?' Hewitt persisted. 'If you don't accept this offer, it's the end of the road, Gourdy.'

'I still think I'm going to win,' Gourdy replied. 'That scientific stuff – you know damn well the previous captains made sure that none of that could affect the captain's cabin.'

Hewitt explained: 'They made sure of it by having the scientific people on their side.'

The image of Gourdy in the viewplate merely shrugged scornfully.

But he was shaken, in spite of himself.

At some depth of his being, he believed that this was the end. Yet he could not bring himself to acknowledge it. Something might still happen. What? He had no idea. But surrender remained unthinkable.

Hewitt said in a steady voice, 'You can surrender on my offer at any time before the first shots are fired!' With that he broke the connection.

Several scientists had stood by during Hewitt's interchange with Gourdy. Now, one of them said, 'From the look on your face, you don't seem quite so objective.'

'Gourdy is getting harder to like,' Hewitt confessed. 'But I assume he's under tension, too.'

But he grew calmer as he had his tank wheeled out and explained what he had in mind. When he had been sealed into it, he gave the signal for action. Whereupon he guided his suit toward the corridor that led to the captain's cabin.

The first bullet struck the ultra-hard plastic directly in front of his eyes! It distorted, then normalized. Hewitt pulled back, a tremor shaking his body.

But he recovered, and continued to guide his machine forward.

A line of sparks the size of marbles seemed to run down the full frontal length of the suit – a blaster! The effect was so eerie that he was more fascinated than startled.

A blast from a shotgun also struck him head on. The noise of it was momentarily stunning.

But it was an undamaged Hewitt that drove forward. As he came within yards of the entrance, he heard Gourdy's voice from beyond the door: 'Damn you, Hewitt, what do you want?'

'I want to talk.'

'You can talk on the intercom.'

'Face to face is better.'

There was a pause. 'All right, come on in!'

Once more, Hewitt moved forward, keenly aware that his advisers and he had analyzed that Gourdy's strong-arm men would try to tip the tank suit the moment he drove it into the room. It would not be easy to do. The suit itself weighed nearly 450 pounds at one g, and he himself added 190 to that. Yet three or four men could undoubtedly knock it over.

So he stopped in the doorway, where they would not be able to get at him. And because he had the simple purpose of saving the women, he ignored the men and his gaze flashed toward the bedroom doors.

Miraculously, after a moment, the door of one bedroom opened slightly. Through the slit, a bright eye peered at him. Who it was he could not make out.

Hewitt didn't wait to find out any more. He started forward with a jerk. At its top speed of ten miles an hour, his vehicle moved across the room. He was vaguely aware of men jumping at him with reaching hands. Their yells of dismay as they touched the suit's electrical field was not an unpleasant sound in his ears.

As he approached the door of the bedroom, Hewitt spoke through his speaker: 'Ladies, get out of the way!'

Moments later, the nose of the vehicle struck the door with enough impact to have smashed it if it had been closed. But it was ajar. And so the door bounced open with a bang. Hewitt rolled through. The instant he was inside, he saw that all four women were there.

He felt greatly relieved, for he had two signals for this moment.

He spoke into his mike: 'Fire!'

That was the word that indicated that he was in a position to protect all the women.

The response from the scientists was immediate. Jagged lightning arced from a concentration point in the wall, struck the suit, and discharged from its rear into the main room behind him.

From that room came a screaming of men in agony. Then Hewitt heard the thud of one body after another falling to the floor like deadweights.

40

Hewitt called into his mike, 'You'd better get up here quick!'

'No hurry,' was the cool reply. 'They won't be bothering anybody again.'

The voice was that of William Lawrence, and his tone was so suggestive that Hewitt was startled. Without another word, suddenly uneasy, he backed up, turned around, and drove out into the main room.

A dozen men lay sprawled in various positions on the floor.

There was something about the way the bodies lay – so still – that chilled Hewitt. 'Lawrence,' Hewitt said into his mike, and his voice had a high-pitched quality, 'the agreement was -'

Lawrence's voice in his earphones had a grim chuckle in it. 'I'm afraid, Mr. Hewitt, that quite accidentally we gave them a lethal dosage. Too bad.'

Rage surged through Hewitt, as much at the tone of voice as at the meaning. He yelled, 'You're just another murderer!'

Lawrence was cool. 'You're overexcited, Mr. Hewitt. But it's all right. We won't hold anything you say right now against you.'

Hewitt fought for self-control. But his next words still had bitterness in them. 'I suppose what you've done has its good side,' he said. 'Just as you unthinkingly conformed to the old system, so now you're unthinkingly responding to the new one.'

'You don't think we were going to let him get away!' said Lawrence, suddenly angry, his voice high-pitched.