“Sponge-bath. I’ll show you. Then . . . they brought along quite a lot of clothes to fit me, and you’re just about my
size … and you’ll look nice in green……
After they had put themselves to rights, Dorothy said, “That’s a lot better.” Each girl looked at the other, and each
liked what she saw.
The stranger was about twenty-two with heavy, wavy black hair. Her eyes were a rich, deep brown; her skin clear,
smooth ivory. Normally a beautiful girl, thought Dorothy, even though she was now thin, haggard, and worn.
“Let’s get acquainted before we do anything else,” she said. “I’m Margaret Spencer, formerly private secretary to
His High Mightiness, Brookings of Steel. They swindled my father out of an invention worth millions and then
killed him. I got the job to see if I could prove it, but I didn’t get much evidence before they caught me. So, after
two months of things you wouldn’t believe, here I am. Talking never would have done me any good, and I’m certain
it won’t now. Perkins will kill me . . . or maybe, if what you say is true, I should add ‘if he can.’ This is the first time
I’ve had that much hope.”
“But how about Dr. DuQuesne? Surely he wouldn’t let him.”
“I’ve never met DuQuesne before, but from what I heard around the office, he’s worse than Perkins-in a different
way, of course. He’s absolutely cold and utterly hard-a perfect fiend.”
“Oh, come, you’re too hard on him. Didn’t you see him knock Perkins down when he came after me?”
“No-or perhaps I did, in a dim sort of way. But that doesn’t mean anything. He probably wants you left alive of
course that’s it, since he went to all the trouble of kidnapping you. Otherwise he would have let Perkins do anything
he wanted to with you, without lifting a finger.”
“I can’t believe that.” Nevertheless, a chill struck at Dorothy’s heart as she remembered the inhuman crimes
attributed to the man. “He has treated us with every consideration so far-let’s hope for the best. Anyway, I’m sure
we’ll get back safely.”
“You keep saying that. What makes you so sure?” “Well, I’m Dorothy Vaneman, and I’m engaged to Dick Seaton, the
man who invented this spaceship, and I’m as sure as can be that he is chasing us right now.”
“But that’s just what they want!” Margaret exclaimed. “I heard some Top Secret stuff about that. Your name and
Seaton’s brings it back to me. Their ship is rigged, some way or other, so it will blow up or something the first time
they go anywhere!”
“That’s what they think.” Dorothy’s voice dripped scorn. “Dick and his partner-you’ve heard of Martin Crane, of
course?”
“I heard the name mentioned with Seaton’s, but that’s all.”
“Well, he’s quite a wonderful inventor, and almost as smart as Dick is. Together they found out about that sabotage
and built another ship that Steel doesn’t know anything about. Bigger and better and faster than this one.”
“That makes me feel better.” Margaret really brightened for the first time. “No matter how rough this trip will be,
it’ll be a vacation for me now. If I only had a gun . . .”
“Here,” and as Margaret stared at the proffered weapon, “I’ve got another. I got them out of Perkins’ suit.” “Glory
be!” Margaret fairly beamed. “There is balm in Gilead, after all! Just watch, next time Perkins threatens to cut my
heart out with his knife . . . and we’d better go make those sandwiches, don’t you think? And call me Peggy, please.”
“Will do, Peggy my dear-we’re going to be great friends. And I’m Dot or Dottie to you.”
In the galley the girls set about making dainty sandwiches, but the going was very bard indeed. Margaret was
particularly inept. Slices of bread went one way, bits of butter another, ham and sausage in several others. She
seized two trays and tried to trap the escaping food between them-but in the attempt she released her hold and
floated helplessly into the air.
“Oh, Dot, what’ll we do anyway,” she wailed. “Everything wants to fly all over the place!”
“I don’t quite know-I wish we had a bird-cage, so we could reach in and grab anything before it could escape. We’d
better tie everything down, I guess, and let everybody come in and cut off a chunk of anything they want. But what
I’m wondering about is drinking. I’m simply dying of thirst and I’m afraid to open this bottle.” She had a bottle of
ginger ale clutched in her left hand, an opener in her right; one leg was hooked around a vertical rail. “I’m afraid it’ll
go into a million drops and Dick says if you breathe them in you’re apt to choke to death.”
“Seaton was right-as usual.” Dorothy whirled around. DuQuesne was surveying the room, a glint of amusement in
his one sound eye. “I wouldn’t recommend playing with charged drinks while weightless. Just a minute-I’ll get the
net.”
He got it; and while he was deftly clearing the air of floating items of food he went on. “Charged stuff could be
murderous unless you’re wearing a mask. Plain liquids you can drink through a straw after you learn how. Your
swallowing has got to be conscious, and all muscular with no gravity. But what I came here for. was to tell you I’m
ready to put on one G of acceleration so we’ll have normal gravity. I’ll put it on easy, but watch it.”
“What a heavenly relief!” Margaret cried, when everything again stayed put. “I never thought I’d ever be grateful for
just being able to stand still in one place, did you?”
Preparing the meal was now of course simple enough. As the four ate, Dorothy noticed that DuQuesne’s left arm
was almost useless and that he ate with difficulty because of his terribly bruised face. After the meal was done she
went to the medicine chest and selected containers, swabs, and gauze.
“Come over here, doctor. First aid is indicated.”
“I’m all right . . .” he began, but at her imperious gesture he got up carefully and came toward her.
“Your arm is lame. Where’s the damage?”
“The shoulder is the worst. I rammed it through the board.”
“Take off your shirt and lie down here.”
He did so and Dorothy gasped at the extent and severity of the man’s injuries.
“Will you get me some towels and hot water, please, Peggy?” She worked busily for minutes, bathing away clotted
blood, applying antiseptics, and bandaging. “Now for those bruises-I never saw anything like them before. I’m not
really a nurse. What would you use? Tripidiagen o r . . . ”
“Amylophene. Massage it in as I move the arm.”
He did not wince and his expression did not change; but he began to sweat and his face turned white. She paused.
“Keep it up, nurse,” he directed, coolly. “That stuff’s murder in the first degree, but it does the job and it’s fast.”
When she had finished and he was putting his shirt back on: “Thanks, Miss Vaneman-thanks a lot. It feels a hundred
per cent better already. But why did you do it? I’d think you’d want to bash me with that basin instead.”
“Efficiency.” She smiled. “As our chief engineer it won’t do to have you laid up.”
“Logical enough, in a way … but … I wonder. . . :’ She did not reply, but turned to Perkins.
“How are you, Mr. Perkins? Do you require medical attention?”
“No,” Perkins growled. “Keep away from me or I’ll cut your heart out.”
“Shut up!” DuQuesne snapped. “I haven’t done anything!”
“Maybe it didn’t quite constitute making a break, so I’ll broaden the definition. If you can’t talk like a man, keep
still. Lay off Miss Vaneman-thoughts, words, and actions. I’m in charge of her and I will have no interference what-
ever. This is your last warning.”
“How about Spencer, then?”
“She’s your responsibility, not mine.”
An evil light appeared in Perkins’ eyes. He took out a wicked-looking knife and began to strop it carefully on the
leather of the seat, glaring at his victim the while.
Dorothy started to protest, but was silenced by a gesture from Margaret, who calmly took the pistol out of her
pocket. She jerked the slide and held the weapon up on one finger.
Don’t worry about his knife. He’s been sharpening it for my benefit for the last month. It doesn’t mean a thing. But
you shouldn’t play with it so much, Perkins, you might be tempted to try to throw it. So drop it on the floor and
kick it over here to me. Before I count three. One.” The heavy pistol steadied into line with his chest and her finger
tightened on the trigger.
“Two.” Perkins obeyed and Margaret picked up the knife.