Zzt felt triumphant.
The animal had been hurt and hurt badly. It could have been better. The roll of the drone had caused a slight miscalculation in the throw, and instead of totally severing the animal's head as he intended, the plate had hit a strut of the plane skids and then had struck the animal.
But the results had been very satisfactory. There was red blood all over the floor plates under there.
The animal had fired a new small weapon up the corridor. But in the mirror Zzt could see that the animal was passing out, coming to for an instant, and passing out again. Zzt had waited. The animal would pass out long enough for Zzt to dart forward and finish it.
However, it didn't quite come off as Zzt had planned. The animal had crawled backward toward the back end of the drone, halting and firing a shot, backward further, firing another shot.
It had crawled into a canister-loading hole in the rear cargo space. The hole it went through was almost too small for it. It disappeared.
Zzt waited a long time and nothing else happened. Finally he crept out of his recess and, ducking into other recesses and using his mirror, got all the way back to the rear cargo bulkheads.
He tried to look in with the mirror. It was too dark in there.
He shone a torch in there. Nothing. The animal must have crawled off to the side.
Zzt tied the torch to the mirror and looked to the right. He got one very short glimpse of the animal and then a bullet hit the torch and mirror and they went flying out of Zzt’s hand. Lucky he hadn't tried to reach in there himself.
He listened all along the bulkhead. The roar of the drone was too great to hear any breathing.
For quite a while he expected the animal to pop out and shoot. But nothing like that happened. He finally concluded that the animal had crawled in there and died. There sure was enough blood. Bled to death, probably. Zzt beamed happily.
Well, enough! Zzt decided he better get to work.
He opened the door of the battle plane and switched on the local command channel and tried to wake up Nup. The dimwit certainly must be up there. Maybe asleep. Zzt impatiently threw on all the radio channels. That would blast the nincompoop out of his wits. Planetary had a habit of knocking in earbones at just a few hundred feet.
“Nup, you crap brain! Wake up!” Nup's voice came back. “Who? Who's this?”
“Look, Nup," said Zzt with controlled patience, “I know you are short on sleep. I know they didn't teach you the exact solution to all this in mine school. But, I feel that under the existing circumstances you might try to cooperate!”
“Is this Zzt?”
What a dimwit, what a flutter brain with its bearings burned out! “Of course it's Zzt!”
“And you're down in the drone? Ah, I thought you were. But didn't Snit fly you out? If you were-'
“Shut up,” roared Zzt. “Here's exactly what I want you to do. Take off and land that ship just above this door. Land it close to the edge above the door so it will break the wind.”
Nup wanted to know break the wind from what?
Zzt told him very unpleasantly. Nup, with ten minutes of fuel left, hastened to comply.
Zzt intended to rob this damaged battle plane of its cartridges of fuel. He had been appalled at the skill it would take to fly it out this door. Then he had a happy thought. Maybe it carried some spares.
He got up on the seat and started to rummage in the back compartment. A whole bag of cartridges! Dozens of them!
But he saw something else. His breathe-mask exhale ports flashed. This stuff had radioactive dust on it! Of course, this wasn't surprising for packages that had been in a radiation-bullet battle, and it was not much, but it frightened Zzt. He flung the bag of cartridges out into the passageway and jumped out to stop them before they rolled into open spaces. Holding them at arm's length he shook the bag. He breathed on it cautiously. No flash. Good.
He opened both doors of the battle plane. He wouldn't go near the back compartment. He did everything now at arm's length.
He played a torch on the housings of both main drive and balance motors. His practiced eye detected a hairline crack in the right balance motor.
Maybe it would run, maybe not. The crash hadn't helped. He reached underneath it and got a paw full of wires and tore them loose, scrambled them, and laid them back unconnected but out of view. One battle plane that wouldn't fly straight! Good.
He got down under the plane and looked at the drone's main drive. Ah, there was his wrench. And the animal hadn't removed the plate. Good. He put the wrench back in his boot where it belonged.
The pitch and roll of the drone changed drastically now. Nup had moved. The pitch was gone but the roll was much worse. However, it all had its good points. The drone was now crabbing and protecting the door from the wind.
Gingerly reaching for the microphone, Zzt stood well away from the plane.
“You in position?” he demanded. “It took a couple of times but-'
“All right. Do you recognize a cable ladder?”
Nup tried to explain that as a mining executive and a fully qualified pilot, he of course could recognize-
“Fasten your end of the cable ladder to the cleats opposite the seat. Drop the weighted end of the ladder down here. Then lower an ore net on a line. And then a safety wire. All into this door. Got that?”
Nup said he certainly understood it, but was there ore in the drone? He didn't quite understand-
“Fuel cartridges! I’m going to send you up fuel cartridges.”
“Oh, my. That's a relief! Will they fit?”
Zzt didn't bother to answer. Of course they fit! All plane fuel cartridges were interchangeable. It was tanks to planes that didn't match. What a crud brain!
The ladder's weighted end came whipping down. It fell on the wrong side of the tail that was jutting out of the door. The tail was wedged over.
Zzt, feeling quite brave, reached in, waited for a correct roll of the drone, released the magnetic brake, shifted the plane with a massive heave only a Psychlo could manage, and reset the brake. Good, now he could get the cable ladder end where it belonged. He had clearance between it and the door edge. He lashed the lower end to a floor beam.
The lowering safety wire gave trouble for it kept flying out into the windstream. Zzt radioed Nup to haul it back. Devil with it, he didn't need it.
Zzt reached into the battle plane and pulled out a coil of safety wire from it. Then he couldn't figure out how to use it. He tied it to the battle plane in its proper ring but he didn't like the idea of being tied here. Suppose the plane moved or something. He left the safety wire on the floor plates. Devil with it.
“Ore basket!” he demanded of Nup. It came down. It was heavy enough not to fly around in the three-hundred-mile-an-hour blast of cold air. As Zzt tied the cartridge bag into it he realized he hadn't inspected it for fuel. It probably also had ammunition cartridges in it. Well, who knew, they might need both.
As soon as they flew off he was going to gun this interior, blow this battle plane to bits and just make sure. Damn animal. Damn Terl.
A new thought hit him. It was a long way down. He better grab the jet backpack. Very gingerly, he reached an arm into the compartment and got it. There were two there. He brought out both. He threw one over the side and put the other on. Left the animal with no out. But of course the animal was dead. And good riddance. Damn Terl!
“You all set?” he demanded on the radio.
Nup said he was, but where was the fuel.
Zzt let him pull up the fuel in the ore net.
“You got it?” demanded Zzt.
“Yes, I’m trying to check...just let me remove the spent empties and make sure the size-'
“Blast you for a dimwitted crud! Stand by to steady that ladder. I’m sick of being down here in this crap-infested, monkey-cursed drone! I’ll take care of the refuel when I get up there. Don't put an ammunition cartridge into the fuel sleeves! I’m coming up and right now!”