That was all the explanation there was time for. Kerk swung the car out of the rush of traffic and onto a bridge marked Official Cars Only. Jason had a feeling of nakedness as they rolled under the harsh port lights toward the guarded gate ahead.
It was dosed.
Another car approached the gate from the inside and Kerk slowed their car to a crawl. One of the guards talked to the driver of the car inside the port, then waved to the gate attendant. The barrier gate began to swing inward and Kerk jammed down on the accelerator.
Everything happened at once. The turbine howled, the spinning tires screeched on the road and the car crashed open the gate. Jason had a vanishing glimpse of the open-mouthed guards, then they were skidding around the corner of a building. A few shots popped after them, but none came close.
Driving with one hand, Kerk reached under the dash and pulled out a gun that was the twin of the monster strapped to his arm. “Use this instead of your own,” he said. “Rocket-propelled explosive slugs. Make a great bang. Don’t bother shooting at anyone-I’ll take care of that. Just stir up a little action and make them keep their distance. Like this.” ~
He fired a single, snap shot out the side window and passed the gun to Jason almost before the slug hit. An empty truck blew up with a roar, raining pieces on the cars around and sending their drivers fleeing in panic.
After that it was a nightmare ride through a madhouse. Kerk drove with an apparent contempt for violent death. Other cars followed them
and were lost in wheel-raising turns. They careened almost the full length of the field, leaving a trail of smoking chaos.
Then the pursuit was all behind them and the oply thing ahead was the slim spire of the Pride of Darkhan.
The Pride was surrounded by a strong wire fence as suited the begrudged status of her planetary origin. The gate was closed and guarded by soldiers with leveled guns, waiting for a shot at the approaching car. Kerk made no attempt to come near them. Instead he fed the last reserves of power to the car and headed for the fence. “Cover your face,” he shouted.
Jason put his arms in front of his head just as they hit.
Torn metal screamed, the fence buckled, wrapped itself around the car, but did not break. Jason flew off the seat and into the padded dash. By the time Kerk had the warped door open, he realized that the ride was over. Kerk must have seen the spin of his eyeballs because he didn’t talk, just pulled Jason out and threw him onto the hood of the ruined car.
“Climb over the buckled wire and make a run for the ship,” he shouted.
If there was any doubt what he meant, he set Jason an example of fine roadwork. It was inconceivable that someone of his bulk could run so fast, yet he did. He moved more like a charging tank than a man. Jason shook the fog from his head and worked up some speed himself. Nevertheless, he was barely halfway to the ship when Kerk hit the gangway. It was already unhooked from the ship, but the shocked attendants stopped rolling it away as the big man bounded up the steps.
At the top he turned and fired at the soldiers who were charging in through the open gate. They dropped, crawled, and returned his fire. Very few shot at Jason’s running fonn.
The scene in front of Jason cranked over in slow motion. Kerk standing at the top of the ramp, coolly returning the fire that splashed all about. He could have found safety in an instant through the open port behind him. The only reason he stayed there was to cover Jason.
“Thanks,” Jason managed to gasp as he made the last few steps up the gangway, jumped the gap and collapsed inside the ship.
“You’re perfectly welcome,” Kerk said as he joined him, waving his gun to cool it off.
A ~grim-jawed ship’s officer stood back out of range of fire from the ground and looked them both up and down. “And just what the hell is going on here,” he growled.