The metal sectors close to him began their ponderous pincer movement, narrowing to seal the circular aperture of the smelter. While they were still closing Rick headed along the outer edge of the cylinder, reflecting that it would be just his luck if Alice happened to be going the other way, out of sight on the far side.
Well, if that were the case she was too late. She would have to return and use the lock, just like him.
He came to the triple airlock and moved into the first of its three compartments. This one could be held at vacuum, or pressurized to the same level as the interior, or partially pressurized at any level in between. The chamber beyond had the same feature, plus enough rack space for dozens of suits. At the moment both locks were hard vacuum, but the pressure gauges showed that the inside of the SM was already filling with air.
Rick remained in the second of the locks and peered through the thick glass port. He saw Barney, he saw Gina, he saw Vido and Lafe and Gladys. He surveyed the whole group, climbing out of their suits. Everyone except Alice was there.
So where was she?
He turned, and was just in time to see a suited figure glide across the edge of his field of view and disappear from sight around the side of the smelter. Whoever it was had come from the direction of the main body of CM-26—and it was surely not Alice. The suit was far too big and bulky.
It was Jigger Tait. Rick was almost sure, even from that brief glimpse. There was no reason why Jigger should not come to the party; but if that was his intention, why hadn’t he headed straight for this airlock?
Rick thought again of Deedee’s suspicions that Jigger, with his secret prowling around the mining asteroid, was up to something sinister. The party was a perfect time for anyone to snoop through the apprentices’ rooms. But it made little sense to explore out here. And why stay outside the SM if you did?
Rick went back through the locks and floated cautiously in the direction that Jigger Tait had taken. He paused as he rounded the end of the smelter. There was no sign of a suit anywhere along the smooth curved side of the cylinder. Open space in all directions seemed just as empty.
Where could Jigger have gone? The only hiding place left was the end of the cylinder, its flat circle still invisible to Rick. He used his suit jets at their lowest setting and crept forward to where he could peer over the curved cylinder edge.
What he saw was totally bewildering. There was not one suited figure, but two—and they were fighting. They were grappling with each other, turning and rolling and kicking in a jumble of arms and legs.
Jigger Tait—and Alice. From this distance there was no doubt at all.
As Rick watched, Jigger used his superior strength and mass to spin Alice around and lock a forearm viciously across her suit’s flexible neck piece. He levered hard, cutting off her breathing and resisting her desperate efforts to break free. She kicked and beat at him, but it did no more than turn them end over end in space.
Rick watched, open-mouthed. He was oblivious to his own movement, and he was slowly drifting higher over the cylinder’s end plate when the interlocked bodies turned far enough for Alice to catch sight of him.
“Rick!” Her cry was faint and agonized, from lungs starved for air. “Rick. Help me!”
Jigger was killing her. Rick responded instinctively. He jetted right at Tait, hoping to separate the two of them by the sheer force of his collision. It didn’t work as planned, because Jigger turned somehow and dipped his shoulder. Rick drove feet-first into that shoulder and the side of Jigger’s helmet, partly breaking his hold on Alice and sending them toward the rigid side of the smelter.
Jigger seemed stunned. As his grip loosened, Alice gave a cry of triumph. She turned, wrapped her long legs around Jigger’s middle, and fired her suit’s jets at maximum impulse. Jigger was driven backwards, headfirst toward the solid wall. It seemed inevitable that the helmet and face plate of his suit would shatter as he hit, but at the last moment his own jets fired laterally. He and Alice spun giddily about their common center of mass. It was her helmet that smashed at high speed into the unyielding cylinder.
Not even hardened plastics could withstand such an impact. Her face plate burst open at eye level. Rick heard a whistling scream on his suit radio as air exploded from Alice’s lungs. Her body bounced one way, while Jigger Tait’s suit with jets still flaring went spinning off crazily in another direction.
“Rick!” The cry came this time from Tait, flying farther off and struggling to get his suit’s movements under control. “Rick—the panel. Hit the Abort key.”
Rick, ready to plunge after Alice, paused. If he reached her he did not know what he could for her. But what was Jigger Tait shouting about, with such desperation in his voice?
Rick turned.
The panel. There it was, the control panel, its white cover open. It was right next to him. What did Jigger mean, hit the Abort?
Rick stooped over to look more closely. The control that would open the end of the smelter had been switched to the ON position. The safety override was in operation. The timer was set and counting down even as he watched—eight seconds to go—seven.
His thoughts ran faster than his gloved hand as it slammed for the Abort key.
Seven seconds—the plates at the end of the smelter would be preparing to open.
Six—the apprentices inside were out of their suits and would take minutes to get back into them.
Five—the countdown had not stopped, they would be blown out with the rush of escaping air.
Four—his friends would all die in the naked vacuum of space.
Rick stared, close to hysteria, as the changing digits kept counting down. At last they froze. Three seconds. The override light went out. And then Jigger Tait was standing next to him, his breathing—or was it Rick’s own?—harsh and rattling over the suit radio.
“Close,” he said. “Too damn close. You almost killed all of us, coming when you did.”
“Alice. . .”
“She’s gone. Come on. We have to collect her body.”
He jetted off toward a stiff-limbed suit that turned in the Sun’s harsh light. Its red beacon light was still forlornly blinking. Rick trailed after him.
“What do we do now?” he said, as they reached Alice.
“Now?” Jigger gathered the body in his arms, staring down into the silent but agonized rictus of death by sudden vacuum. “That’s one hell of a question. Now, I guess that you and I go and ruin a party before it’s had a chance to get started.”
The apprentices were chatting to each other as they wandered through the inside of the smelter, examining and admiring all the new fixtures. The noise level had been growing steadily.
Then Jigger appeared from the inner airlock. Alice’s dead body, still in its suit, was cradled to his chest. Many people had been looking the other way, but somehow the whole giant enclosure at once became uncannily silent.
“Alice?” said an uncertain voice. It was Vido Valdez, standing like a statue near the lock. “Is that Alice?”
“Not really.” Jigger, with Rick right behind him, moved to the area equipped for serving food and laid the body gently onto one of the tables.
“But it is,” said Rick, wondering if Jigger had lost his mind. It was understandable if he had. Rick himself did not feel like a human being, he was numb and dead inside. “It’s Alice—Alice Klein.”
“No. You thought she was Alice Klein, but this woman is Moira Lindstrom.” Jigger lifted his head and stared around at the closing circle of apprentices. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, like a man who has been holding his breath for a long time. “I received a confirming call less than an hour ago from headquarters. She is twenty-six years old. And she works—worked—for Avant Mining, not Vanguard Mining.”