And remembered the weapon the Imperial Outworld authorities had given her. Two tubes set within her nostrils, positioned so as not to interfere with normal breathing. She had forgotten them entirely during the fracas at the Captain’s office. Some presence of mind she had under pressure! All she had to do was wrinkle her nose and snort a gust of air, activating the mechanism…
No! Beneath the alien presence was the real Hath, the involuntary host. She could not bring herself to destroy that captive, and she could not kill the Andromedan without also killing the Solarian. Maybe that was what had blocked off her memory when the Captain exposed his Sphere—identity—though by now he might be dead anyway. Or Skot might be dead. Or both. All the skills and knowledge that had so impressed her. The real Captain might be the entity she could love, if she ever could allow it.
No, that was untrue. It was the Andromedan Dash that fascinated her, forbidden as that was. He knew Tarot and he had a charisma that the mere Solarian entity could never match; she was perversely certain of that. And it was Dash of Andromeda who had professed his love for her. Why should he have done that, had it not been true? Could she be certain that he had intended to order her death? Maybe he had been about to order Slammer to “keep Yael from leaving.” She knew now that she never could have hurt him, though her galaxy hang in the balance.
Yael’s charge against her had been false. Far better had it been true, for Melody had been on the verge of betraying her galaxy for purely personal reasons. Only her Mintakan nature had prevented it. No credit to her, for her loyalty!
But now she was captive, or virtually so. She had been so preoccupied by the threat of the magnet that she had forgotten the threat of the hostages themselves.
Her thoughts had moved explosively; it had been only a moment. “Yael… do you know how to fight?”
“Are you kidding?” Yael replied tremulously. “All backvine farmers can fight. And their kids too. Or they don’t grow up alive.”
“Then take over.” And Melody let slide control.
“Gee, thanks!” Yael said sarcastically. “You sure called my bluff. But I remember when a man grabbed me like this, once, and I—”
Yael’s head dropped down, then rammed forward into Hath’s stomach. The air whooshed out of the man, and he fell back, gasping, letting go of the arm. Yael stiffened that hand and sliced it into the side of his throat. He slumped against the wall, trying to grab her around the waist. Her dress began to tear. Yael shifted her weight so as to bring up her knee.
“No!” Melody cried, fathoming the girl’s intent and diving in to thwart it. “You’ll kill him!” For the knee would have smashed into the man’s face and perhaps split his head against the metal wall.
“Near killed that other man,” Yael said. “That was one time I didn’t get punished, ’cause they were saving me for—”
Melody took over and ran down the hall. She still held her rods and shoes. “You certainly do know how to fight! But we won’t catch another hostage by surprise.”
“We won’t need to. There’s the wooden tunnel.” They had made it! Slammer could not follow. Her nose-weapon would deactivate the magnet guard (maybe), and she would transfer to Imperial Outworld before the hostages knew she was gone. Then Segment Etamin could act.
She paused. How could they act? Most of the offensive might of the segment was right here in this fleet. Andromeda had evidently concentrated here, knowing that the ships could dominate the worlds of the segment. Probably the same thing was going on in every segment of the galaxy. Control the fleets, and through them the Imperial worlds, and through those the vassal-Spheres— what an efficient way to maximize the effect of comparatively few hostages! Once the fleets were captive, the planets hardly mattered. In fact, they could be virtually ignored. The Andromedan technicians would set up their energy-robbing mechanisms and start draining the galaxy, and the planets would simply disintegrate along with their suns. Or whatever it was that happened. Melody was no energy expert, but did know that life in the galaxy would be wiped out long before significant deterioration of matter occurred.
The real battle was right here. If she gave up this ship, she might as well give up the galaxy.
She turned about. “Hey!” Yael protested.
“I can’t transfer out.” Melody said. “It would leave you helpless before the hostages.”
“I never thought of that! This isn’t mattermission; I can’t go with you! I’m stuck here on this ship.”
“That’s right. We have to make our fight right here.”
“But we can’t! We’ll just get killed!”
“You fought pretty well a moment ago.”
“That’s not the same. When a man grabs me, I know what to do, one way or another. But in a long-range campaign I’d be helpless.”
Probably an accurate assessment. But Melody put the best face on it. “Not if we work together. We’ll capture the hostages one by one—and transfer them out. Then we’ll have the real officers back again. The more we do, the more help we’ll have, until we can recapture the ship.”
“Yes! Let’s go drag Hath to the transfer unit and—”
“I think it would be better to start with the Captain,” Melody said. “After we do it once, the other hostages will know what we’re up to. If we begin at the top, he can order the others to the unit before they catch on.”
“Besides which,” Yael said in that wise way of hers, “you’re worried about the Captain. You don’t want him hurt.”
“I will do what is necessary!” Melody snapped.
They turned a corner—and there at the far end of the hall hovered a magnet.
A thrill of terror ran through Melody, and she was sure it wasn’t all her host’s emotion. She set the second rod in the intersection and hurried on down the right-angle passage.
“All hands!” the ship’s wall speakers blared suddenly. “Be on alert for Solarian female Yael of Dragon. She is an aural agent who attacked the Captain. She is dangerous; do not attempt to capture her physically. Merely advise her locations; the magnets will rendezvous.”
“Oh-oh,” Yael said. “We’re in trouble already. I’m terrified.”
“So what else is new?” Melody inquired in the girl’s own vernacular. What use to continue passing the burden of fear back and forth? They had to keep functioning regardless—or die. “But my fear for my galaxy is greater than my fear for myself, so I’m blocking out as much of the emotion as I can.” She moved on… and was surprised to discover that her fear diminished. Did her rationale actually make sense?
And they met another hostage.
Acting on inspiration, she threw one of her shoes at him. The man ducked, thinking it a more formidable weapon, and tumbled to the floor. But as he fell, he bawled: “Subject spotted in inner passage, coordinates—”
Yael got to him before he finished the numerical designation. This time she swung a rod. It cracked into his head, rendering him silent.
“For someone afraid of action,” Melody remarked, “you do very well.”
“I like action,” Yael replied. “I just hate danger. Hand-to-hand I understand, but lasers and things like that are awful. And I’d sure rather fight a man than a magnet.”
“Agreed.” Confidence was being restored.
Suddenly they heard the high keening of a magnet’s swift progress. Apparently the partial coordinates had given it enough of a clue as to where they were.
The thing came around the bend. It wasn’t moving with the blinding velocity of which it was capable; it was questing, not attacking. But Melody was trapped in the hall, and could not outspeed it. The moment it came within range…