There was almost nothing he could do to help. Those barrels were located right at the limit of the fire gun’s range.
Its stream reached barely far enough to discourage the fire from sweeping over Dane, and even that pitiful defense would have to be terminated long before the job was done.
The Sally Sue was under too heavy an assault herself . . .
Miceal whipped the fire gun down, training its muzzle on the dock just before him. An arm of fire had worked its way along the pier and was licking right at the ship’s side almost at his feet.
It was a small advance, and he was not long in driving it back, but the three major fires had now become one.
Jellico’s heart was heavy. Thorson’s suffering and sacrifice were for nothing. He would not be able to keep up his own part. He would be able to hold out a few minutes more, five or perhaps ten, but the deadly little fires had become a conflagration that would soon sweep over him and the ship he was battling to save. He would go down still fighting, but that would be small comfort to those he had failed to save. It had just been too big a task for only one man . . .
A thud sounded beside him as someone sprang onto the deck.
His head turned sharply. Jan Van Rycke!
The Cargo-Master grinned but said nothing as he raced for the nearest fire gun, seized and activated it.
It functioned, praise the Spirit ruling Space, and a powerful stream of foam belted a gap in that part of the fire wall nearest them.
Three minutes later, another stream joined it from a point near the freighter’s middle. Rael!
Miceal’s spirit sang. This equipment was designed to handle major trouble—witness the stand he had been able to make alone guarding so broad a front. With the three of them manning the guns, they had a chance—not a certainty—but for the first time a true chance of defeating the primal force before them.
They had won. They had seen the fire fall back, great patches of it dying under cold water and smothering foam, well before the air above them had suddenly filled with Fire Department fliers, all spilling what had seemed like half an ocean of foam.
Jellico smiled at the memory as he wearily leaned back against his pillow. The four spacers had just about drowned along with the flames, but he did not recall hearing any protests. He himself certainly had not been inclined to object.
A knock brought him back to his present surroundings.
It had been soft and rather timid and was not immediately repeated. Rael Cofort.
He sat up quickly and began refastening the collar snaps on his tunic. “Come in,” he called as he pressed the last into place.
The woman obeyed instantly. She had Queex with her, draped over her arm, but almost without thinking, she set him on Jellico’s desk. Her eyes fixed on the Captain’s face, studying him intently. His voice had sounded hoarse, but that was nothing, merely the result of the abuse his throat and lungs had taken. It would clear up of its own accord soon enough.
“Mr. Wilcox said you’d knocked out,” she said.
“Mr. Wilcox should keep his mouth shut,” he grumbled.
“Not with me pestering him. — You’re all right, Miceal?”
“Aye. I just started running out of fuel. Since there’s no need to play ultraman at the moment, I decided to call it an evening.”
“Smart move. It’s no fun having one’s lungs scrubbed.”
She moved closer to him and touched her fingertips to his forehead, “There doesn’t seem to be any fever.”
“I told you I was all right,” he responded irritably.
“I know, but I am a Medic. Habit’s hard to break.” She turned to the desk. “I guess we should leave and let you get some rest.”
“No. Stay a bit.”
Jellico’s cabin was full size, unlike hers, and was outfitted with a permanent desk and a chair.
She released the seat from its fastenings and drew it next to the wide bunk.
Miceal saw her grimace as she sat down, and now it was his turn to examine her closely. “Eight broken ribs. I knew you were hurt, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“It wasn’t until the end, or at least it didn’t hurt so much. I completed the job on myself when I was working on Keil. It took a lot of maneuvering to get in to him.”
“Well, I started it. I was the one who threw you onto that block.”
“Considering the shape those who’d been near us were in, I don’t think I’ve got much call for complaining,” she told him dryly.
“All the same, I am sorry.”
Rael smiled, but her eyes were somber. “Thanks for not telling me to leave Keil back there and run.”
“I did think of it,” he admitted, “but I knew there was too much titanone in your spine for you to listen, so I spared you the insult.”
She gave him an incredulous look and laughed. “I was terrified, my friend, m fact, I terrify easily. It’s just that…”
The Captain smiled. “Precisely, Rael Cofort.”
He shifted into a more comfortable position. “I more or less lost contact with the universe back there just after the fliers pulled us out. What happened? I know you assured me everything and everyone were clear, but Medics have a bad habit of softening down the story for the supposed wounded.”
“You were pretty sick,” she told him gravely. “That was straight poison you were breathing. A little greater concentration and …”
“Well, I’m fine now. — You called the Fire Department?”
She nodded. “With Mr. Van Rycke’s transceiver, and Keil kept on calling after I went to join the battle. — He’s going to be fine, by the way,” she added triumphantly, “though he wouldn’t have lasted much longer without us.”
“Without you.”
She shrugged. “Dane’s about the worst hurt. Doctor Tail has him bundled up in burn cream and bandages at the moment, and he won’t be shoving cargo around for the next few weeks, but he didn’t take permanent damage, praise the Spirit of Space. We got the cream on him fast enough that there won’t even be any scarring.” She smiled. “Sinbad’s with him now, offering feline company and comfort.
“Jasper took some very bad bruises and minor singes.
He’ll be stiff and damn sore for a while, but otherwise he’s all right.”
“How’s Alt?” he asked quietly.
“Sound out. Both Doctor Tau and I are sure of that.
Whatever memories this aroused, he’s faced them and filed them where they belong. — He’s a strong man, Miceal, stronger than I would’ve thought just meeting him.”
“People tend to underrate him.” He swung into a sitting position. “What’s going to happen to Canuche Town itself?
And there’s the little matter of our charter. Now that the blasted life-and-death business is over, I’d like to know how that stands.”
The Medic smiled. “You’ll live! — Mr. Macgregory’s terribly busy, naturally, but he did talk to Mr. Van Rycke for a few minutes. The waterfront is to be restored and the rest of the damage repaired as soon as possible. The Caledonia plant will not only be rebuilt but will be enlarged.
Needless to say,” she added grimly, “ammonium nitrate will be handled with proper respect everywhere on-world from here on in.
“As for the Queen’s business, she’s to lift with her cargo as soon as she can. By the time she gets back, another shipment will have been brought in from some of the nearer factories and will be waiting for loading at the port. Adroo Macgregory has no intention of losing out on a good business opportunity merely because he’s suffered a setback here. — His phrasing.”
Jellico laughed. “A man after my own heart! — We’ll lift as fast as we can fuel up.” He frowned slightly. “Assuming we can get any fuel. Everything’ll be in short supply around here for a while.”
“Friend, there is nothing the Solar Queen wants or needs that she won’t get on Canuche of Halio. The other ships’re in pretty solid, too,” she added. “Their crews followed ours with manpower and supplies when they were needed most, and they’ll get precedence after the Queen on any charters going on this planet in the foreseeable future. This is one place where the Companies won’t even have a chance, not for a very, very long time to come.”
“It’s worked out well enough, then,” the Captain said slowly. “For us. The Canucheans lost a deal more than buildings and goods.”
Rael nodded slowly. “I wish we all could’ve moved sooner.”
She shifted in her seat. Miceal was beginning to look tired, and she was feeling weary herself.
She picked up the hoobat, who had been watching silently from his perch on the desk. “Shall I leave Queex? He’s been worried about you.”