Triplanetary E. E. Smith (jenna bush book club .txt) 📖

“Think so? I know so! The mere facts that we are rare specimens and that he told us that we were going to stay there all the rest of our lives would make him chase us clear to Lundmark’s Nebula. Besides that, we stepped on their toes pretty heavily before we left. We know altogether too much now to be let get back to Tellus; and finally, they’d all die of acute enlargement of the spleen if we get away with this prize ship of theirs. I hope to tell you they’ll chase us!”

He fell silent, devoting his whole attention to his piloting, driving his craft onward at such velocity that its outer plating held steadily at the highest point of temperature compatible with safety. Soon they were out in open space, hurtling toward the sun under the drive of every possible watt of power, and Costigan took off his armor and turned toward the helpless body of the captain.

“He looks so⁠ ⁠… so⁠ ⁠… so dead, Conway! Are you really sure that you can bring him to?”

“Absolutely. Lots of time yet. Just three simple squirts in the right places will do the trick.” He took from a locked compartment of his armor a small steel box, which housed a surgeon’s hypodermic and three vials. One, two, three, he injected small, but precisely measured amounts of the fluids into the three vital localities, then placed the inert form upon a deeply cushioned couch.

“There! That’ll take care of the gas in five or six hours. The paralysis will wear off long before that, so he’ll be all right when he wakes up; and we’re going away from here with everything we can put out. I’ve done everything I know how to do, for the present.”

Then only did Costigan turn and look down, directly into Clio’s eyes. Wide, eloquent blue eyes that gazed back up into his, tender and unafraid; eyes freighted with the oldest message of woman to chosen man. His hard young face softened wonderfully as he stared at her; there were two quick steps and they were in each other’s arms. Lips upon eager lips, blue eyes to gray, motionless they stood clasped in ecstasy; thinking nothing of the dreadful past, nothing of the fearful future, conscious only of the glorious, wonderful present.

“Clio mine⁠ ⁠… darling⁠ ⁠… girl, girl, how I love you!” Costigan’s deep voice was husky with emotion. “I haven’t kissed you for seven thousand years! I don’t rate you, by a million steps; but if I can just get you out of this mess, I swear by all the gods of interplanetary space.⁠ ⁠…”

“You needn’t, lover. Rate me? Good Heavens, Conway! It’s just the other way.⁠ ⁠…”

“Stop it!” he commanded in her ear. “I’m still dizzy at the idea of your loving me at all, to say nothing of loving me this way! But you do, and that’s all I ask, here or hereafter.”

“Love you? Love you!” Their mutual embrace tightened and her low voice thrilled brokenly as she went on: “Conway dearest⁠ ⁠… I can’t say a thing, but you know.⁠ ⁠… Oh, Conway!”

After a time Clio drew a long and tremulous, but supremely happy breath as the realities of their predicament once more obtruded themselves upon her consciousness. She released herself gently from Costigan’s arms.

“Do you really think that there is a chance of us getting back to the Earth, so that we can be together⁠ ⁠… always?”

“A chance, yes. A probability, no,” he replied, unequivocally. “It depends upon two things. First, how much of a start we got on Nerado. His ship is the biggest and fastest thing I ever saw, and if he strips her down and drives her⁠—which he will⁠—he’ll catch us long before we can make Tellus. On the other hand, I gave Rodebush a lot of data, and if he and Lyman Cleveland can add it to their own stuff and get that super-ship of ours rebuilt in time, they’ll be out here on the prowl; and they’ll have what it takes to give even Nerado plenty of argument. No use worrying about it, anyway. We won’t know anything until we can detect one or the other of them, and then will be the time to do something about it.”

“If Nerado catches us, will you.⁠ ⁠…” She paused.

“Rub you out? I will not. Even if he does catch us, and takes us back to Nevia, I won’t. There’s lots more time coming onto the clock. Nerado won’t hurt either of us badly enough to leave scars, either physical, mental, or moral. I’d kill you in a second if it were Roger; he’s dirty. He’s mean⁠—he’s thoroughly bad. But Nerado’s a good enough old scout, in his way. He’s big and he’s clean. You know, I could really like that fish if I could meet him on terms of equality sometime?”

“I couldn’t!” she declared vigorously. “He’s crawly and scaly and snaky; and he smells so⁠ ⁠… so.⁠ ⁠…”

“So rank and fishy?” Costigan laughed deeply. “Details, girl; mere details. I’ve seen people who looked like money in the bank and who smelled like a bouquet of violets that you couldn’t trust half the length of Nerado’s neck.”

“But look what he did to us!” she protested. “And they weren’t trying to recapture us back there; they were trying to kill us.”

“That was perfectly all right, what he did and what they did⁠—what else could they have done?” he wanted to know. “And while you’re looking, look at what we did to them⁠—plenty, I’d say. But we all had it to do, and neither side will blame the other for doing it. He’s a square shooter, I tell you.”

“Well, maybe, but I don’t like him a bit, and let’s not talk about him any more. Let’s talk about us. Remember what you said once, when you advised me to ‘let you lay,’ or whatever it was?” Womanlike, she wished to dip again lightly into the waters of pure emotion, even though she had such a short time before led