This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ October 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. A "JOHNNY MAYHEM" ADVENTURE A PLACE IN THE SUN By C. H. THAMES _Mayhem, the man of many bodies, had been given some weird assignments in his time, but saving The Glory of the Galaxy wasn't difficult--it was downright impossible!_ The SOS crackled and hummed through subspace at a speed which leftlaggard light far behind. Since subspace distances do not coincide withnormal space distances, the SOS was first picked up by a Fomalhautianfreighter bound for Capella although it had been issued from a point innormal space midway between the orbit of Mercury and the sun's corona inthe solar system. [Illustration: The terrible weapon blasted death and carnage through the ship. ] The radioman of the Fomalhautian freighter gave the distress signal tothe Deck Officer, who looked at it, blinked, and bolted 'bove decks tothe captain's cabin. His face was very white when he reached the doorand his heart pounded with excitement. As the Deck Officer crossed anelectronic beam before the door a metallic voice said: "The Captain isasleep and will be disturbed for nothing but emergency priority. " Nodding, the Deck officer stuck his thumb in the whorl-lock of the doorand entered the cabin. "Begging your pardon, sir, " he cried, "but wejust received an SOS from--" * * * * * The Captain stirred groggily, sat up, switched on a green night lightand squinted through it at the Deck Officer. "Well, what is it? Isn'tthe Eye working?" "Yes, sir. An SOS, sir. .. . " "If we're close enough to help, subspace or normal space, take the usualsteps, lieutenant. Surely you don't need me to--" "The usual steps can't be taken, sir. Far as I can make out, that shipis doomed. She's bound on collision course for Sol, only twenty millionmiles out now. " "That's too bad, lieutenant, " the Captain said with genuine sympathy inhis voice. "I'm sorry to hear that. But what do you want me to do aboutit?" "The ship, sir. The ship that sent the SOS--hold on to your hat, sir--" "Get to the point now, will you, young man?" the Captain growledsleepily. "The ship which sent the SOS signal, the ship heading on collisioncourse for Sol, is the _Glory of the Galaxy_!" For a moment the Captain said nothing. Distantly, you could hear the humof the subspace drive-unit and the faint whining of the stasisgenerator. Then the Captain bolted out of bed after unstrapping himself. In his haste he forgot the ship was in weightless deep space and wentsailing, arms flailing air, across the room. The lieutenant helped himdown and into his magnetic-soled shoes. "My God, " the Captain said finally. "Why did it happen? Why did it haveto happen to the _Glory of the Galaxy_?" "What are you going to do, sir?" "_I_ can't do anything. I won't take the responsibility. Have theradioman contact the Hub at once. " "Yes, sir. " _The Glory of the Galaxy_, the SOS ship heading on collision course withthe sun, was making its maiden run from the assembly satellites of Earthacross the inner solar system via the perihelion passage which wouldbring it within twenty-odd million miles of the sun, to Mars which nowwas on the opposite side of Sol from Earth. Aboard the gleaming new shipwas the President of the Galactic Federation and his entire cabinet. * * * * * The Fomalhautian freighter's emergency message was received at the Hubof the Galaxy within moments after it had been sent, although the normalspace distance was in the neighborhood of one hundred thousand lightyears. The message was bounced--in amazingly quick time--from office tooffice at the hub, cutting through the usual red tape because of its toppriority. And--since none of the normal agencies at the Hub could handleit--the message finally arrived at an office which very rarely receivedofficial messages of any kind. This was the one unofficial, extra-legaloffice at the Hub of the Galaxy. Lacking official function, the officehad no technical existence and was not to be found in any Directory ofthe Hub. At the moment, two young men were seated inside. Their sole jobwas to maintain liaison with a man whose very existence was doubted bymost of the human inhabitants of the Galaxy but whose importance couldnot be measured by mere human standards in those early days when theGalactic League was becoming the Galactic Federation. The name of the man with whom they maintained contact was Johnny Mayhem. "Did you read it?" the blond man asked. "I read it. " "If it got down here, that means they can't handle it anywhere else. " "Of course they can't. What the hell could normal slobs like them orlike us do about it?" "Nothing, I guess. But wait a minute! You don't mean you're going tosend Mayhem, without asking him, without telling--" "We can't ask him now, can we?" "Johnny Mayhem's _elan_ is at the moment speeding from Canopus to Deneb, where on the fourth planet of the Denebian system a dead body is waitingfor him in cold storage. The turnover from League to Federation statusof the Denebian system is causing trouble in Deneb City, so Mayhem--" "Deneb City will probably survive without Mayhem. Well, won't it?" "I guess so, but--" "I know. The deal is we're supposed to tell Mayhem where he's going andwhat he can expect. The deal also is, every inhabited world has a bodywaiting for his _elan_ in cold storage. But don't you think if we couldtalk to Mayhem now--" "It isn't possible. He's in transit. " "Don't you think if we could talk to him now he would agree to board the_Glory of the Galaxy_?" "How should I know? I'm not Johnny Mayhem. " "If he doesn't board her, it's certain death for all of them. " "And if he does board her, what the hell can he do about it? Besides, there isn't any dead body awaiting his _elan_ on that ship or any ship. He wouldn't make a very efficacious ghost. " "But there are live people. Scores of them. Mayhem's _elan_ is quitecapable of possessing a living host. " "Sure. Theoretically it is. But damn it all, what would the results be?We've never tried it. It's liable to damage Mayhem. As for the host--" "The host might die. I know it. But he'll die anyway. The whole shiploadof them is heading on collision course for the sun. " "Does the SOS say why?" "No. Maybe Mayhem can find out and do something about it. " * * * * * "Yeah, maybe. That's a hell of a way to risk the life of the mostimportant man in the Galaxy. Because if Mayhem boards that ship andcan't do anything about it, he'll die with the rest of them. " "Why? We could always pluck his _elan_ out again. " "_If_ he were inhabiting a dead one. In a live body, I don't think so. The attraction would be stronger. There would be forces of cohesion--" "That's true. Still, Mayhem's our only hope. " "I'll admit it's a job for Mayhem, but he's too important. " "Is he? Don't be a fool. What, actually, is Johnny Mayhem's importance?His importance lies in the very fact that he is expendable. Hislife--for the furtherance of the new Galactic Federation. " "But--" "And the President is aboard that ship. Maybe he can't do as much forthe Galaxy in the long run as Mayhem can, but don't you see, man, he's afigurehead. Right now he's the most important man in the Galaxy, and ifwe could talk to him I'm sure Mayhem would agree. Mayhem would want toboard that ship. " "It's funny, we've been working with Mayhem all these years and we nevereven met the guy. " "Would you know him if you saw him?" "Umm-mm, I guess not. Do you think we really can halt his _elan_ insubspace and divert it over to the _Glory of the Galaxy_?" "I take it you're beginning to see things my way. And the answer to yourquestion is yes. " "Poor Mayhem. You know, I actually feel sorry for the guy. He's had moreadventures than anyone since Homer wrote the _Odyssey_ and there won'tever be any rest for him. " "Stop feeling sorry for him and start hoping he succeeds. " "Yeah. " "And let's see about getting a bead on his _elan_. " The two young men walked to a tri-dim chart which took up much of theroom. One of them touched a button and blue light glowed within thechart, pulsing brightly and sharply where space-sectors intersected. "He's in C-17 now, " one of the men said as a gleaming whiteness wassuddenly superimposed at a single point on the blue. "Can you bead him?" "I think so. But I still feel sorry for Mayhem. He's expecting to wakeup in a cold-storage corpse on Deneb IV but instead he'll come to in aliving body aboard a spaceship on collision course for the sun. " "Just hope he--" "I know. Succeeds. I don't even want to think of the possibility hemight fail. " In seconds, the gleaming white dot crawled across the surface of thetri-dim chart from sector C-17 to sector S-1. * * * * * The _Glory of the Galaxy_ was now nineteen million miles out from thesun and rushing through space at a hundred miles per second, normalspace drive. The _Glory of the Galaxy_ thus moved a million miles closerto fiery destruction every three hours--but since the sun'sgravitational force had to be added to that speed, the ship was slatedto plunge into the sun's corona in little more than twenty-four hours. Since the ship's refrigeration units would function perfectly until theouter hull reached a temperature of eleven hundred degrees Fahrenheit, none of its passengers knew that anything was wrong. Even the members ofthe crew went through all the normal motions. Only the _Glory of theGalaxy's_ officers in their bright new uniforms and gold braid knew thegrim truth of what awaited the gleaming two-thousand ton spaceship lessthan twenty-four hours away at the exact center of its perihelionpassage. Something--unidentified as yet--in all the thousands of intricate thingsthat could go wrong on a spaceship, particularly a new one making itsmaiden voyage, had gone wrong. The officers were checking theircatalogues and their various areas of watch meticulously--and notbecause their own lives were at stake. In spaceflight, your own lifealways is at stake. There are too many imponderables: you are, to acertain degree, expendable. The commissioned contingent aboard the_Glory of the Galaxy_ was a dedicated group, hand-picked from all theofficers in the solar system. * * * * * But they could find nothing. And do nothing. Within a day, their lives along with the lives of the enlisted menaboard the _Glory of the Galaxy_ and the passengers on its maiden run, would be snuffed out in a brilliant burst of solar heat. And the President of the Galactic Federation would die because someunknown factor had locked the controls of the spaceship, making itimpossible to turn or use forward rockets against the gravitational pullof the sun. Nineteen million miles. In normal space, a considerable distance. Ahundred miles a second--a very considerable normal space speed. Increasing. .. . * * * * * Ever since they had left Earth's assembly satellites, Sheila Kelly hadseen a lot of a Secret Serviceman named Larry Grange, who was a memberof the President's corps of bodyguards. She liked Larry, although therewas nothing serious in their relationship. He was handsome and charmingand she was naturally flattered with his attentions. Still, although hewas older than Sheila, she sensed that he was a boy rather than a manand had the odd feeling that, faced with a real crisis, he would confirmthis tragically. It was night aboard the _Glory of the Galaxy_. Which was to say theblue-green night lights had replaced the white day lights in thecompanionways and public rooms of the spaceship, since its ports weresealed against the fierce glare of the sun. It was hard to believe, Sheila thought, that they were only nineteen million miles from the sun. Everything was so cool--so comfortably air-conditioned. .. . She met Larry in the Sunside Lounge, a cabaret as nice as any terrannightclub she had ever seen. There were stylistic Zodiac drawings on thewalls and blue-mirrored columns supporting the roof. Like everythingelse aboard the _Glory of the Galaxy_, the Sunside Lounge hardly seemedto belong on a spaceship. For Sheila Kelly, though--herself a thirdsecretary with the department of Galactic Economy--it was all verythrilling. "Hello, Larry, " she said as the Secret Serviceman joined her at theirtable. He was a tall young man in his late twenties with crewcut blondhair; but he sat down heavily now and did not offer Sheila his usualsmile. "Why, what on earth is the matter?" Sheila asked him. "Nothing. I need a drink, that's all. " The drinks came. Larry gulped his and ordered another. His completesilence baffled Sheila, who finally said: "Surely it isn't anything I did. " "You? Don't be silly. " "Well! After the way you said that I don't know if I should be glad ornot. " "Just forget it. I'm sorry, kid. I--" He reached out and touched herhand. His own hand was damp and cold. "Going to tell me, Larry?" "Listen. What's a guy supposed to do if he overhears something he's notsupposed to overhear, and--" "How should I know unless you tell me what you overheard? It is youyou're talking about, isn't it?" "Yeah. I was going off duty, walking by officer quarters and . .. Oh, forget it. I better not tell you. " "I'm a good listener, Larry. " "Look, Irish. You're a good anything--and that's the truth. You havelooks and you have brains and I have a hunch through all that EmeraldIsle sauciness you have a heart too. But--" "But you don't want to tell me. " "It isn't I don't want to, but no one's supposed to know, not even thePresident. " "You sure make it sound mysterious. " "Just the officers. Oh, hell. I don't know. What good would it do if Itold you?" "I guess you'd just get it off your chest, that's all. " "I can't tell anyone official, Sheila. I'd have my head handed to me. But I've got to think and I've got to tell someone. I'll go crazy, justknowing and not doing anything. " "It's important, isn't it?" * * * * * Larry downed another drink quickly. It was his fourth and Sheila hadnever seen him take more than three or four in the course of a wholeevening. "You're damned right it's important. " Larry leaned forwardacross the postage-stamp table. A liquor-haze clouded his eyes as hesaid: "It's so important that unless someone does something about it, we'll all be dead inside of twenty-four hours. Only trouble is, thereisn't anything anyone can do about it. " "Larry--you're a little drunk. " "I know it. I know I am. I want to be a lot drunker. What the hell can aguy do?" "What do you know, Larry? What have you heard?" "I know they have the President of the Galactic Federation aboard thisship and that he ought to be told the truth. " "No. I mean--" "They sent out an SOS, kid. Controls are locked. Lifeboats don't haveenough power to get us out of the sun's gravitational pull. We're allgoing to roast, I tell you!" Sheila felt her heart throb wildly. Even though he was well on the wayto being thoroughly drunk, Larry was telling the truth. Instinctively, she knew that--was certain of it. "What are you going to do?" she said. He shrugged. "I guess because I can't do a damned thing I'm going to getgood and drunk. That's what I'm going to do. Or maybe--who the hellknows?--maybe in one minute I'm going to jump up on this table and telleveryone what I overheard. Maybe I ought to do that, huh?" "Larry, Larry--if it's as bad as you say, maybe you ought to thinkbefore you do anything. " "Who am I to think? I'm one of the muscle men. That's what they pay mefor, isn't it?" "Larry. You don't have to shout. " "Well, isn't it?" "If you don't calm down I'll have to leave. " "You can sit still. You can park here all night. _I'm_ leaving. " "What are you going to do?" "Oh . .. That. " Larry got up from the table. He looked suddenly green andSheila thought it was because he had too much to drink. "You don't haveto worry about that, Sheila. Not now you don't. I all of a sudden don'tfeel so good. Headache. Man, I never felt anything like it. Better go tomy cabin and lie down. Maybe I'll wake up and find out all this was adream, huh?" "Do you need any help?" Sheila demanded, real concern in her voice. "No. 'Sall right. Man, this headache really snuck up on me. Pow! Withoutany warning. " "Let me help you. " "No. Just leave me alone, will you?" Larry staggered off across thecrowded dance floor. He drew angry glances and muttered comments as hedisturbed the dancers waltzing to Carlotti's _Danube in Space_. Why don't you admit it, Grange, Larry thought as he staggered throughthe companionway toward his cabin. That's what you always wanted, isn'tit--a place of importance? A place in the sun, they call it. "You're going to get a place in the sun, all right, " he mumbled aloud. "Right smack in the middle of the sun with everyone else aboard thisship!" The humor of it amused him perversely. He smiled--but it was closer to aleer--and lunged into his cabin. What he said to Sheila was no joke. Hereally did have a splitting headache. It had come on suddenly and it waslike no headache he had ever known. It pulsed and throbbed and beatagainst his temples and held red hot needles to the backs of hiseyeballs, almost blinding him. It sapped all his strength, leaving himphysically weak. He was barely able to close the door behind him andstagger to the shower. An ice cold shower, he thought would help. He stripped quickly and gotunder the needle spray. By that time he was so weak he could barelystand. A place in the sun, he thought. .. . Something grabbed his mind and wrenched it. * * * * * Johnny Mayhem awoke. Awakening came slowly, as it always did. It was a rising throughinfinite gulfs, a rebirth for a man who had died a hundred times andmight die a thousand times more as the years piled up and becamecenturies. It was a spinning, whirling, flashing ascent from blacknessto coruscating colors, brightness, giddiness. And suddenly, it was over. A needle spray of ice-cold water beat down upon him. He shuddered andreached for the water-taps, shutting them. Dripping, he climbed from theshower. And floated up--quite weightless--toward the ceiling. Frowning with his new and as yet unseen face, Johnny Mayhem propelledhimself to the floor. He looked at his arms. He was naked--at least thatmuch was right. But obviously, since he was weightless, he was not on Deneb IV. Duringhis transmigration he had been briefed for the trouble on Deneb IV. Thenhad a mistake been made somehow? It was always possible--but it hadnever happened before. Too much precision and careful planning was involved. Every world which had an Earthman population and a Galactic League--now, Galactic Federation--post, must have a body in cold storage, waiting forJohnny Mayhem if his services were required. No one knew when Mayhem'sservices might be required. No one knew exactly under what circumstancesthe Galactic Federation Council, operating from the Hub of the Galaxy, might summon Mayhem. And only a very few people, including those at theHub and the Galactic League Firstmen on civilized worlds and Observerson frontier planets, knew the precise mechanics of Mayhem's coming. * * * * * Johnny Mayhem, a bodiless sentience. Mayhem--Johnny Marlow then--whohad been chased from Earth a pariah and a criminal seven years ago, whohad been mortally wounded on a wild planet deep within the SagittarianSwarm, whose life had been saved--after a fashion--by the white magicof that planet. Mayhem, doomed now to possible immortality as abodiless sentience, an _elan_, which could occupy and activate a corpseif it had been preserved properly . .. An _elan_ doomed to wandereternally because it could not remain in one body for more than a monthwithout body and _elan_ perishing. Mayhem, who had dedicated hisstrange, lonely life to the services of the Galactic League--now theGalactic Federation--because a normal life and normal social relationswere not possible to him. .. . It did not seem possible, Mayhem thought now, that a mistake could bemade. Then--a sudden change in plans? It had never happened before, but it was entirely possible. Something, Mayhem decided, had come up during transmigration. It was terriblyimportant and the people at the Hub had had no opportunity to brief himon it. But--what? * * * * * His first shock came a moment later. He walked to a mirror on the walland approved of the strong young body which would house his sentienceand then scowled. A thought inside his head said: _So this is what it's like to have schizophrenia. _ _What the hell was that?_ Mayhem thought. _I said, so this is what it's like to have schizophrenia. First theworld's worst headache and then I start thinking like two differentpeople. _ _Aren't you dead?_ _Is that supposed to be a joke, alter ego? When do the men in the whitesuits come?_ _Good Lord, this was supposed to be a dead body!_ At that, the other sentience which shared the body with Mayhem snickeredand lapsed into silence. Mayhem, for his part, was astounded. _Don't get ornery now_, Mayhem pleaded. _I'm Johnny Mayhem. Does thatmean anything to you?_ _Oh, sure. It means I'm dead. You inhabit dead bodies, right?_ _Usually. Listen--where are we?_ Glory of the Galaxy--_bound from Earth to Mars on perihelion. _ _And there's trouble?_ _How do you know there's trouble?_ _Otherwise they wouldn't have diverted me here. _ _We've got the president aboard. We're going to hit the sun. _ Then, grudgingly, Larry went into the details. When he finished he thoughtcynically: _Now all you have to do is go outside yelling have no fear, Mayhem is here and everything will be all right, I suppose. _ Mayhem didn't answer. It would be many moments yet before he couldadjust to this new, unexpected situation. But in a way, he thought, itwould be a boon. If he were co-inhabiting the body of a living man whobelonged on the _Glory of the Galaxy_, there was no need to reveal hisidentity as Johnny Mayhem to anyone but his host. .. . * * * * * "I tell ya, " Technician First Class Ackerman Boone shouted, "therefrigeration unit's gone on the blink. You can't feel it yet, but Iought to know. I got the refrigs working full strength and we gained acouple of degrees heat. Either she's on the blink or we're too close tothe sun, I tell you!" Ackerman Boone was a big man, a veteran spacer with a squat, very strongbody and arms like an orangutan. Under normal circumstances he was avery fine spacer and a good addition to any crew, but he bore anunreasonable grudge against the officer corps and would go out of hisway to make them look bad in the eyes of the other enlisted men. A largecrowd had gathered in the hammock-hung crew quarters of the _Glory ofthe Galaxy_ as Boone went on in his deep, booming voice: "So I asked theskipper of the watch, I did. He got shifty-eyed, like they always do. You know. He wasn't talking, but sure as my name's Ackerman Boone, something's wrong. " "What do you think it is, Acky?" one of the younger men asked. "Well, I tell ya this: I know what it _isn't_. I checked out the refrigsthree times, see, and came up with nothing. The refrigs are in jigorder, and if I know it then you know it. So, if the refrigs are in jigorder, there's only one thing it can be: we're getting too near thesun!" Boone clamped his mouth shut and stood with thick, muscular armscrossed over his barrel chest. * * * * * A young technician third class said in a strident voice, "You mean youthink maybe we're plunging into the sun, Acky?" "Well, now, I didn't say that. Did I, boy? But we _are_ too close and ifwe are too close there's got to be a reason for it. If we stay too closetoo long, O. K. Then we're plunging into the sun. Right now, I dunno. " They all asked Ackerman Boone, who was an unofficial leader among them, what he was going to do. He rubbed his big fingers against the thickstubble of beard on his jaw and you could hear the rasping sound itmade. Then he said, "Nothing, until we find out for sure. But I got ahunch the officers are trying to pull the wool over the eyes of thempoliticians we got on board. That's all right with me, men. If they wantto, they got their reasons. But I tell ya this: they ain't going to pullany wool over Acky Boone's eyes, and that's a fact. " Just then the squawk box called: "Now hear this! Now hear this! Tech/1Ackerman Boone to Exec's office. Tech/1 Boone to Exec. " "You see?" Boone said, smiling grimly. As yet, no one saw. His facestill set in a grim smile, Ackerman Boone headed above decks. * * * * * "That, Mr. President, " Vice Admiral T. Shawnley Stapleton said gravely, "is the problem. We would have come to you sooner, sir, but frankly--" "I know it, Admiral, " the President said quietly. "I could not havehelped you in any way. There was no sense telling me. " "We have one chance, sir, and one only. It's irregular and it willprobably knock the hell out of the _Glory of the Galaxy_, but it maysave our lives. If we throw the ship suddenly into subspace we couldpass right through the sun's position and--" "I'm no scientist, Admiral, but wouldn't that put tremendous stress notonly on the ship but on all of us aboard?" "It would, sir. I won't keep anything from you, of course. We'd all besubjected to a force of twenty-some gravities for a period of severalseconds. Here aboard the _Glory_, we don't have adequate G-equipment. It's something like the old days of air flight, sir: as soon asairplanes became reasonably safe, passenger ships didn't bother to carryparachutes. Result over a period of fifty years: thousands of liveslost. We'd all be bruised and battered, sir. Bones would be broken. There might be a few deaths. But I see no other way out, sir. " "Then there was no need to check with me at all, I assure you, AdmiralStapleton. Do whatever you think is best, sir. " The Admiral nodded gravely. "Thank you, Mr. President. I will say this, though: we will wait for a miracle. " "I'm afraid I don't follow you. " "Well, I don't expect a miracle, but the switchover to subspace sosuddenly is bound to be dangerous. Therefore, we'll wait until the lastpossible moment. It will grow uncomfortably warm, let me warn you, butas long as the subspace drive is in good working order--" "I see what you mean, Admiral. You have a free hand, sir; let me repeatthat. I will not interfere in any way and I have the utmost confidencein you. " The President mopped his brow with an already damphandkerchief. It _was_ growing warm, come to think of it. Uncomfortablywarm. As if everyone aboard the _Glory of the Galaxy_ was slowly being broiledalive. .. . * * * * * Ackerman Boone entered the crew quarters with the same smile still onhis lips. At first he said nothing, but his silence drew the men like amagnet draws iron filings. When they had all clustered about him hespoke. "The Exec not only chewed my ears off, " he boomed. "He all but spit themin my face! I was right, men. He admitted it to me after he saw how hecouldn't get away with anything in front of Ackerman Boone. Men, we'reheading on collision course with the sun!" A shocked silence greeted his words and Ackerman Boone, instinctively aborn speaker, paused dramatically to allow each man the private horrorof his own thoughts for a few moments. Then he continued: "The Admiralfigures we have one chance to get out of this alive, men. He figures--" "What is it, Acky?" "What will he do?" "How will the Admiral get us out of this?" Ackerman Boone spat on the polished, gleaming floor of the crewquarters. "He'll never get us out alive, let me tell you. He wants toshift us into subspace at the last possible minute. Suddenly. Likethis--" and Ackerman Boone snapped his fingers. "There'd be a ship full of broken bones!" someone protested. "We can'tdo a thing like that. " "He'll kill us all!" a very young T/3 cried hysterically. "Not if I can help it, he won't, " shouted Ackerman Boone. "Listen, men. This ain't a question of discipline. It's a question of living or dyingand I tell you that's more important than doing it like the book says ordiscipline or anything like that. We got a chance, all right: but itain't what the Admiral thinks it is. We ought to abandon the _Glory_ toher place in the sun and scram out of here in the lifeboats--every lastperson aboard ship. " "But will they have enough power to get out of the sun's gravitationalpull?" someone asked. Ackerman Boone shrugged. "Don't look at me, " he said mockingly. "I'monly an enlisted man and they don't give enlisted men enough math toanswer questions like that. But reckoning by the seat of my pants Iwould say, yes. Yes, we could get away like that--if we act fast. Because every minute we waste is a minute that brings us closer to thesun and makes it harder to get away in the lifeboats. If we act, men, wegot to act fast. " "You're talking mutiny, Boone, " a grizzled old space veteran said. "Youcan count me out. " "What's the matter, McCormick? Yellow?" "I'm not yellow. I say it takes guts to maintain discipline in a realemergency. I say _you're_ yellow, Boone. " "You better be ready to back that up with your fists, McCormick, " Boonesaid savagely. "I'm ready any time you're ready, you yellow mutinous bastard!" * * * * * Ackerman Boone launched himself at the smaller, older man, who stood hisground unflinchingly although he probably knew he would take a soundbeating. But four or five crewmen came between them and held them apart, one saying: "Look who's talking, Boone. You say time's precious but you're all setto start fighting. Every minute--" "Every _second_, " Boone said grimly, "brings us more than a hundredmiles closer to the sun. " "What can we do, Acky?" Instead of answer, Ackerman Boone dramatically mopped the sweat from hisface. All the men were uncomfortably warm now. It was obvious that thetemperature within the _Glory of the Galaxy_ had now climbed fifteen ortwenty degrees despite the fact that the refrigs were working at fullcapacity. Even the bulkheads and the metal floor of crew quarters wereunpleasantly warm to the touch. The air was hot and suddenly very dry. "I'll tell you what we ought to do, " Ackerman Boone said finally. "Admiral Stapleton or no Admiral Stapleton, President of the GalacticFederation or no President of the Galactic Federation, we ought to takeover this ship and man the life boats for everyone's good. If they don'twant to save their lives and ours--let's us save our lives and theirs!" Roars of approval greeted Boone's words, but Spacer McCormick and someof the other veterans stood apart from the loud speech-making whichfollowed. Actually, Boone's wild words--which he gambled with after thefirst flush of enthusiasm for his plan--began to lose converts. One byone the men drifted toward McCormick's silent group until, finally, Boone had lost almost his entire audience. Just then a T/2 rushed into crew quarters and shouted: "Hey, is Boonearound? Has anyone seen Boone?" This brought general laughter. Under the circumstances, the question wasnot without its humorous aspect. "What'll you have?" Boone demanded. "The refrigs, Boone! They are on the blink. Overstrained themselves andburned themselves out. Inside of half an hour this ship's going to be anoven hot enough to kill us all!" "Half an hour, men!" Ackerman Boone cried. "Now, do we take over theship and man those lifeboats or don't we!" The roar which followed his words was a decidedly affirmative one. * * * * * "These are the figures, " Admiral Stapleton said. "You can see, Mr. President, that we have absolutely no chance whatever if we man thelifeboats. We would perish as assuredly as we would if we remained withthe _Glory of the Galaxy_ in normal space. " "Admiral, I have to hand it to you. I don't know how you can think--inall this heat. " "Have to, sir. Otherwise we all die. " "The air temperature--" "Is a hundred and thirty degrees and rising. We've passed salt tabletsout to everyone, sir, but even then it's only a matter of time beforewe're all prostrated. If you're sure you give your permission, sir--" "Admiral Stapleton, you are running this ship, not I. " "Very well, sir. I've sent our subspace officer, Lieutenant Ormundy, tothrow in the subspace drive. We should know in a few moments--" "No crash hammocks or anything?" "I'm sorry, sir. " "It isn't your fault, Admiral. I was merely pointing out a fact. " The squawk box blared: "Now hear this! Now hear this! T/3 Ackerman Booneto Admiral Stapleton. Are you listening, Admiral?" Admiral Stapleton's haggard, heat-worn face bore a look of astonishmentas he listened. Ackerman said, "We have Lieutenant Ormundy, Admiral. He's not killing us all by putting us into subspace in minutes when itought to take hours, you understand. We have Ormundy and we have thesubspace room. A contingent of our men is getting the lifeboats ready. We're going to abandon ship, Admiral, all of us, including you and thepoliticians even if we have to drag you aboard the lifeboats atN--gunpoint. " Admiral Stapleton's face went ashen. "Let me at a radio!" he roared. "Iwant to answer that man and see if he understands exactly what mutinyis!" While Ackerman Boone was talking over the squawk box, the temperaturewithin the _Glory of the Galaxy_ rose to 145° Fahrenheit. * * * * * "Fifteen minutes, " Larry Grange said. "In fifteen minutes the heat willhave us all unconscious. " Only it wasn't Larry alone who was talking. Itwas Larry and Johnny Mayhem. In a surprisingly short time the youngSecret Serviceman had come to accept the dual occupation of his ownmind. It was there: it was either dual occupation or insanity and if thevoice which spoke inside his head said it was Johnny Mayhem, then it wasJohnny Mayhem. Besides, Larry felt clear-headed in a way he had neverfelt before, despite the terrible, sapping heat. It was as if he hadmatured suddenly--the word matured came to him instinctively--in thespace of minutes. Or, as if a maturing influence were at work on hismind. "What can we do?" Sheila said. "The crew has complete control of theship. " "Secret Service chief says we're on our own. There's no time forco-ordinated planning, but somehow, within a very few minutes, we've gotto get inside the subspace room and throw the ship out of normal spaceor we'll all be roasted. " "Some of your men are there now, aren't they?" "In the companionway outside the subspace room, yeah. But they'll neverforce their way in time. Not with blasters and not with N-guns, either. Not in ten minutes, they won't. " "Larry, all of a sudden I--I'm scared. We're all going to die, Larry. Idon't want--Larry, what are you going to do?" They had been walking in a deserted companionway which brought them toone of the aft escape hatches of the _Glory of the Galaxy_. Theirclothing was plastered to their bodies with sweat and every breath wasagonizing, furnace hot. "I'm going outside, " Larry said quietly. "Outside? What do you mean?" "Spacesuit, outside. There's a hatch in the subspace room. If theirattention is diverted to the companionway door, I may be able to get in. It's our only chance--ours, and everyone's. " "But the spacesuit--" "I know, " Larry said even as he was climbing into the inflatable vacuumgarment. It was Larry--and it wasn't Larry. He felt a certainconfidence, a certain sense of doing the right thing--a feeling whichLarry Grange had never experienced before in his life. It was as if theboy had become a man in the final moments of his life--or, he thoughtall at once, it was as if Johnny Mayhem who shared his mind and his bodywith him was somehow transmitting some of his own skills and confidenceeven as he--Mayhem--had reached the decision to go outside. "I know, " he said. "The spacesuit isn't insulated sufficiently. I'llhave about three minutes out there. Three minutes to get inside. Otherwise, I'm finished. " "But Larry--" "Don't you see, Sheila? What does it matter? Who wants the five or tenextra minutes if we're all going to die anyway? This way, there's achance. " He buckled the spacesuit and lifted the heavy fishbowl helmet, preparingto set it on his shoulders. "Wait, " Sheila said, and stood on tiptoes to take his face in her handsand kiss him on the lips. "You--you're different, " Sheila said. "You'rethe same guy, a lot of fun, but you're a--man, too. This is for whatmight have been, Larry, " she said, and kissed him again. "This isbecause I love you. " Before he dropped the helmet in place, Larry said. "It isn't for whatmight have been, Sheila. It's for what will be. " The helmet snapped shut over the shoulder ridges of the spacesuit. Moments later, he had slipped into the airlock. * * * * * "I say you're a fool, Ackerman Boone!" one of the enlisted men rasped atthe leader of the mutiny. "I say now we've lost our last chance. Nowit's too late to get into the lifeboats even if we wanted to. Now all wecan do is--die!" There were still ten conscious men in the subspace room. The others hadfallen before heat prostration and lay strewn about the floor, wringingwet and oddly flaccid as if all the moisture had been wrung from theirbodies except for the sweat which covered their skins. "All right, " Ackerman Boone admitted. "All right, so none of us knowshow to work the subspace mechanism. You think that would have helped? Itwould have killed us all, I tell you. " "It was a chance, Boone. Our last chance and you--" "Just shut up!" Boone snarled. "I know what you're thinking. You'rethinking we ought to let them officers and Secret Servicemen to ram homethe subspace drive. But use your head, man. Probably they'll kill usall, but if they don't--" "Then you admit there's a chance!" "Yeah. All right, a chance. But if they don't kill us all, if they saveus by ramming home the subspacer, what happens? We're all taken in on amutiny charge. It's a capital offense, you fool!" "Well, it's better than sure death, " the man said, and moved toward thedoor. "Allister, wait!" Boone cried. "Wait, I'm warning you. Any man who triesto open that door--" Outside, a steady booming of blaster fire could be heard, but theassault-proof door stood fast. "--is going to get himself killed!" Boone finished. Grimly, Allister reached the door and got his already blistered fingerson the lock mechanism. Ackerman Boone shot him in the back with an N-gun. * * * * * Larry's whole body felt like one raw mass of broken blisters as, flat onhis belly, he inched his way along the outside hull of the _Glory of theGalaxy_. He had no idea what the heat was out here, but it radiated offthe hot hull of the _Glory_ in scalding, suffocating waves which sweptright through the insulining of the spacesuit. If he didn't find theproper hatch, and in a matter of seconds. .. . * * * * * "Anyone else?" Ackerman Boone screamed. "Anyone else like Allister?" But one by one the remaining men were dropping from the heat. Finally--alone--Ackerman Boone faced the door and stared defiantly atthe hot metal as if he could see his adversaries through it. On theother side, the firing became more sporadic as the officers and SecretServicemen collapsed. His mind crazed with the heat and with fear, Ackerman Boone suddenly wished he could see the men through the door, wished he could see them die. .. . * * * * * It was this hatch or nothing. He thought it was the right one, butcouldn't be sure. He could no longer see. His vision had gonecompletely. The pain was a numb thing now, far away, hardly a part ofhimself. Maybe Mayhem was absorbing the pain-sensation for him, hethought. Maybe Mayhem took the pain and suffered with it in the sharedbody so he, Larry, could still think. Maybe-- His blistered fingers were barely able to move within the insulinedgloves, Larry fumbled with the hatch. * * * * * Ackerman Boone whirled suddenly. He had been intent upon thecompanionway door and the sounds behind him--which he had heard but notregistered as dangerous for several seconds--now made him turn. The man was peeling off a space suit. Literally peeling it off in stripsfrom his lobster-red flesh. He blinked at Boone without seeing him. Dazzle-blinded, Boone thought, then realized his own vision was going. "I'll kill you if you go near that subspace drive!" Boone screamed. "It's the only chance for all of us and you know it, Boone, " the mansaid quietly. "Don't try to stop me. " Ackerman Boone lifted his N-gun and squinted through the haze of heatand blinding light. He couldn't see! He couldn't see. .. . Wildly, he fired the N-gun. Wildly, in all directions, spraying the roomwith it-- Larry dropped blindly forward. Twice he tripped over unconscious men, but climbed to his feet and went on. He could not see Boone, but hecould see--vaguely--the muzzle flash of Boone's N-gun. He staggeredacross the room toward that muzzle-flash and finally embraced it-- And found himself fighting for his life. Boone was crazed now--with theheat and with his own failure. He bit and tore at Larry with strongclaw-like fingers and lashed out with his feet. He balled his fists andhammered air like a windmill, arms flailing, striking flesh often enoughto batter Larry toward the floor. Grimly Larry clung to him, pulled himself upright, ducked his headagainst his chest and struck out with his own fists, feeling nothing, not knowing when they landed and when they did not, hearing nothing buta far off roaring in his ears, a roaring which told him he was losingconsciousness and had to act--soon--if he was going to save anyone. .. . He stood and pounded with his fists. Pounded--air. He did not know that Boone had collapsed until his feet trod on theman's inert body and then, quickly, he rushed toward the control board, rushed blindly in its direction, or in the direction he thought it wouldbe, tripped over something, sprawled on the hot, blistering floor, gothimself up somehow, crawled forward, pulled himself upright. .. . There was no sensation in his fingers. He did not know if he hadactually reached the control board but abruptly he realized that he hadnot felt Mayhem's presence in his mind for several minutes. Was Mayhemconserving his energy for a final try, letting Larry absorb thepunishment now so he-- Yes, Larry remembered thinking vaguely. It had to be that. For Mayhemknew how to work the controls, and he did not. Now his mind receded intoa fog of semi-consciousness, but he was aware that his blistered fingerswere fairly flying across the control board, aware then of an inwardsigh--whether of relief or triumph, he was never to know--then aware, abruptly and terribly, of a wrenching pain which seemed to strip hisskin from his flesh, his flesh from his bones, the marrow from. .. . * * * * * "Can you see?" the doctor asked. "Yes, " Larry said as the bandages were removed from his eyes. Threepeople were in the room with the doctor--Admiral Stapleton, thePresident--and Sheila. Somehow, Sheila was most important. "We are now in subspace, thanks to you, " the Admiral said. "We all haveminor injuries as a result of the transfer, but there were only twofatalities, I'm happy to say. And naturally, the ship is now out ofdanger. " "What gets me, Grange, " the President said, "is how you managed to workthose controls. What the devil do you know about sub-space, my boy?" "The two fatalities, " the Admiral said, "were Ackerman Boone and the manhe had killed. " Then the Admiral grinned. "Can't you see, Mr. President, that he's not paying any attention to us? I think, at the moment, thehero of the hour only has eyes for Miss Kelly here. " "Begging your pardons, sirs, yes, " Larry said happily. Nodding and smiling, the President of the Galactic Federation andAdmiral Stapleton left the dispensary room--with the doctor. "Well, hero, " Sheila said, and smiled. Larry realized--quite suddenly--that, inside himself, he was alone. Mayhem had done his job--and vanished utterly. "You know, " Sheila said, "it's as if you--well, I hope this doesn't getyou sore at me--as if you grew up overnight. " Before he kissed her Larry said: "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll tellyou about it someday. But you'd never believe me. " THE END Transcriber's Note: A few typographical errors have been repaired. Cornea CHANGED TO corona (2 places) The squack box blared: CHANGED TO The squawk box blared: _bead_ on his elan CHANGED TO bead on his _elan_ liason CHANGED TO liaison (1 place)