Spence felt the thrill of space walking, but tried to suppress it and center his mind on the more urgent task at hand. Still, he could not help stealing glances at the infinite star-spangled face of the deep and at the quarter-crescent of blue-green Earth rising beyond the further horizon of the station.
A cylinder, he thought. Where is this cylinder? He scanned the rotating station for anything that looked even vaguely cylindrical. He punched his thruster and drew further away from GM's horizon. Then he saw it-lit by the brilliant white and yellow work lights of the construction crews. The new telescope housing. It looks like a cylinder.
Spence scanned the construction site and saw pieces of long metal girders floating in space, and large duralum sheets in stacks near the central tower. Tiny workmen-in special suits that made them look like miniature spaceships-floated motionless nearby.
Hiding in plain sight, he thought. An image flashed to mind of Hocking, a venomous spider, bloated by hate and an insatiable lust for power, sitting in the darkness of his foul lair, spinning his treacherous webs. The image revolted him. And now he was about to enter that spider's presence.
He flew over the construction site and down to the telescope housing. When he came near enough, he jabbed a button on his forearm panel and the magnets in his boots gripped as his feet touched the metal grid of the trafficway. He tilted forward precariously; he had not judged his angle of descent precisely and his forward momentum carried him past vertical. He fell to his knees and banged his helmet on the trafficway. Steady now, he told himself. Stay calm. He picked himself up carefully and noticed a magnetic wrench laying on the grid.
He picked up the wrench and moved toward the housing. It was a huge cylinder-shaped appendage rising from its cradle on the surface of the torus. When finished, it would be completely detached to allow full and undisturbed viewing of any point in the heavens. But now it was anchored securely to the station. There was a walkway leading toward it and a light above the entrance.
So, this is where you've been hiding all along, he thought. Well, Hocking-I've found you. Now what?
He pushed the access plate at the entrance. Nothing happened. He had expected as much, since it was undoubtedly coded and he didn't know the key. But he took the wrench and swung it with as much force as he could into the plate. The mechanism shattered and tiny pieces of plastic flew away in all directions. He smashed the wrench into the circuitry again; there was a bright flash and the portal slid open.
Spence entered the tiny airlock and went on through. He closed the inner door and then tried the outer. To his surprise it closed, and he heard the hiss of air filling the chamber. When the light changed from red to green he took off his helmet and struggled out of his suit.
The inner door slid open automatically and he crossed the small anteroom to the lift tube. He walked forward on wooden legs and stepped in. His stomach tightened and his heart beat fast. He could feel sweat on his back and under his arms. An unsteady finger reached out and touched the lift button. …
AT THE SOUND oF the lift tube sighing up from below, Hocking turned away from the console; an expression of concern flickered across his wasted features. The lift stopped and the panel slid aside and Reston stepped out.
"You!" gasped Hocking. His eyes showed momentary surprise which was covered instantly.
"It's over, Hocking." Spence glared at his enemy steadily. "Your little game is finished."
"Liar!" spat Hocking. "Look for yourself-" He pointed to a bank of vidscreens showing the work of the tanti-the whole station was a morgue of still bodies held in suspended animation. The Dream Thief's terrible machine had done its work well.
"Give it up," said Spence.
"Ha!" Hocking whirled back to him. "You have plagued me from the beginning-you and that stubborn will of yours. You may pride yourself on your accomplishment, Reston. You resisted when no one else could-anyone else would have succumbed long ago. But not you."
"You're stalling."
"Silence! Ortu was right about you. You are dangerous. But it's different now. I wear the kastak. " He nodded slightly and the narrow band gleamed on his forehead. "You see, this time you will not escape."
"Where are they, Hocking? What have you done with Ari and Kyr?"
"You fool!" Hocking drew nearer. "Save your breath; you will need it. I mean to crush you like an insect."
"Where's Ari?" Spence demanded. He noticed Hocking's eyes shift toward a partition across the room. He went to it and pushed it aside. Ari was lying on a cav couch. The sight of her stunned Spence. He turned with fists clenched at his side. "If you've hurt her, so help me-"
"You can do nothing!" Hocking's chair rose higher in the air and came closer. Spence waited, not knowing yet what he would do.
Hocking leered down at him. "I am your master, Reston. Say it.
"Never!"
"Say it!" roared Hocking. His face was now very near Spence's.
Spence stared steadily back at his enemy but refused to speak.
"Say it!" cried Hocking and as he did so the kastak flashed. There was a cracking sound and a bolt leapt from the pneumochair and struck Spence in the chest.
He felt that jolt pass through him and his whole frame was shaken as by an electrical charge. He flew backwards several meters through the air and landed on his back.
"Now we'll see who has won!" crowed Hocking.
The penumochair slid closer. Spence, his vision blurred by tears of pain, squirmed and got up on his knees. He braced himself.
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the flash. Instantaneously the charge struck him again and slammed him to the floor. He rolled to his side and turned his face toward the lift tube, half-expecting to see Adjani dashing to his aid. But no one would come. He was alone.
A sick feeling spread through the pit of his stomach. Spence knew that he was going to die. He heard Hocking's demented laughter pinging around the room's metallic walls. Hocking had conquered after all.
The thought stirred anger in him. My God! He thought. After all I've been through! To die at this madman's hands! God, help me! He pushed himself up on his limbs and knees.
A third blast jerked his limbs out from under him and his head struck the floor. Fiery yellow balls of pain exploded before his eyes and he saw Hocking's face in them, taunting him, mocking him.
"Say it!" Hocking screamed. "Say it and you will die quickly." 'No! Spence shouted. He rolled himself up on all fours.
Another bolt hit him and he felt a weakness in his arms and legs. His breathing was becoming labored. The repeated blasts were draining vital energy and clouding his mind with pain. He felt his strength ebbing. The tanti, he thought. If he could get to the control and disable it, there might be a chance.
Slowly, straining every nerve and fiber, he rose, placing his hands on his knees. He raised his head and looked at Hocking who bobbed nearer, his face twisted into a grotesque mask of hate.
"You can't kill me, Hocking." The words came slowly and with difficulty. His tormentor loomed nearer. "And you can't make me bow to you."
"No? In a few moments you will beg for death. You will acknowledge me!" Hocking tilted his head back and laughed; his head shook wobbily on his thin neck.
Spence heard again the cracking sound and instantly another bolt struck him. It staggered him back a few paces, but he did not go down. Though he might die, he would not allow himself to go down again.
Hocking propelled himself closer, coming in range to deliver the killing blow. The kastak shone like a beacon on his head. Spence let him come.
Now he could hear Hocking's breathing. It seemed to fill the whole room. He moved toward the console. The crackling sound was building again. Hocking drew closer. Spence tottered forward slowly with his head down.