Whether he traversed a single planet's seas or the starlanes, no ship's master would tolerate a pack of idlers leeching away his always tight port expense funds. "She's in trouble," he announced sharply even as he sent the flier surg ing forward.
In another moment, they came to a stop beside a group
of longshoremen. "What's the problem?" he asked.
"What's it to you, space hound?" one countered. There was no real hostility in the question, just a petty enjoyment in momentary superiority over the off-worlder with his supposedly more interesting lifeway.
"Most Captains sympathize with a ship in trouble," he responded more mildly than he would have done with one of his own kind.
"A bit of a fire on the Man's," the speaker told him.
Miceal's expression registered his concern, and the longshoreman continued quickly. "It's not the same thing as you chaps have to face in space," he assured them, "at least not here in port where the crew can get off quickly. This is nothing, anyway. They'll probably have it out in a few
minutes."
"Maybe," interjected the older man standing beside him.
Jellico eyed him curiously. "You have your doubts?"
"I was the one who smelled the smoke and alerted her Captain. To my mind, he should forget about saving the. cargo and really pour in water and foam. Masters have lost ships before by playing around with steam for too long."
He nodded. "Live steam. It replaces the oxygen in the air, smothering a blaze while being reasonably kind to the goods stored around it. It's most useful in the early stages of a tightly confined fire, though. Give the flames any chance to spread, to escape into the hull between the holds, and you've got big trouble."
"You think that's happened here?"
"Well, it's not for me to say, but a fire large enough for me to sniff out just by walking near an open hatch is a deal more than a spark, and I'm willing to put down a few credits that they haven't gotten it licked even yet."
"How long have they been at it?"
"Full blast? Only about ten minutes. — Uh-oh, there goes the alarm. They want the Fire Department. That means they're kissing the cargo good-bye. — See, the crew're being sent ashore."
"There shouldn't be all that much to be damaged, should there?" the Medic asked, trying to recall what Macgregory had told them about the kinds of goods the Regina Man's was taking on. "Just the rope. Her insurance should cover that."
"Sure, and the rest, too, but exporters don't like to ship with vessels that sacrifice their cargoes too willingly. Also, the season's rush on nitrate'll be over soon ... "
Rael Cofort's face went white. "What?"
"Ammonium nitrate. A fertilizer. My lads loaded fourteen hundred tons of it in her number two hold and another eight hundred and twenty tons in number four yesterday evening. The fire's between them in number three where the rope's stowed. Both're likely to be drenched and ruined . . ."
"Spirit of Space . . . ," she whispered.
"It's a common substance," he told her in surprise.
"Until you bring a flame or too much heat near it," Jellico said tersely. "Then it's a bomb."
"Bomb! What in . . ."
"Recently we saw an experiment to illustrate that. If that ship goes up, it'll be like a low-grade planetbuster. You people would be smart to take off, pick up your families, and keep going until this is all over."
"Right," one of the women standing near them cut in.
"We'd find something left out of our paychecks if we tried that."
"Better lose a few hours' pay to panic than not be able to collect it at all because you're dead."
"I'll take responsibility," their chief informant declared, confirming the spacers' impression that he was the group's foreman. "I've got a kid up the slope in the Cup school. I'm taking him, my wife, and her mother and heading for the hardpan. The rest of you do the same."
He glanced at the pair in the flier. "What about you two?"
"We like living," the Captain replied.
The Canucheans wasted no time in clearing after that.
Rael did not watch them go. Her eyes were fixed on Jellico. "Miceal, we can't . . ."
He gave an impatient shake of his head. "These eateries should all have public surplanetary transceivers, and they'll be empty with everyone out watching the fire. I'll
warn the Queen and spaceport. You tell Macgregory and the Stellar Patrol."
As Jellico predicted, they found available booths in the first eating place they entered and both hastened to sound the alarm before the dreaded explosion rendered it worthless.
Tang Ya was on duty at the Solar Queen's transceiver.
He, like the rest of the crew, had heard his comrades' report of the Caledonia experiment and required no detailed explanation. "We're ready to go now," he told him. "All the rest of us are on board, praise the Spirit of Space. How long do we give you?" He hated to ask that, but for the sake of the ship and the bulk of her company, there had to be a limit on the time they could afford to wait.
"Lift at once and make for the hardpan outside the city.
Set down again a mile or so to the south of it to get you out of direct line with any residual blast effects, and wait there until I tell you the fire's out here or until the commotion stops. If the Man's does go up, they'll be needing help at that point. Rael and I'll either make our way out to you or be tied up with the rescue effort ourselves."
Most likely, they would either be in need of saving or beyond it, but his Captain was as aware of that as he was. "Will do. We'll pass the word to the others here as well."
"Thanks, Tang."
Miceal's head bowed as he stepped from the booth. He loved the Solar Queen and had always imagined he would
meet his death aboard her or striving in some manner for her.
The spacer squared his shoulders and looked up. Death on Canuche of Halio might be a distinct possibility, but it was by no means a certainty for either of them. There was ' no reason to blindly assume that he and Rael Cofort would not be returning to the starship and to the cold, dark reaches of interstellar space that was her domain.
He had to wait a few minutes for his companion, but she nodded gravely when she finally joined him. "I got to them both," she told him. "Mr. Macgregory's starting a full evacuation immediately. He'll also contact the Fire Department to let them know what we're facing and warn the hospitals to move as much of their gear as they can, especially their emergency facilities, out onto the hardpan so they'll be ready to start taking on cases at once if need be. Colonel Cohn's putting in calls for aid to the other towns all along the coast. — What about our own people?"
"They'll do what they must."
They found the battle against the ship fire raging in full fury when they went outside again, with fireboats and fliers pouring streams of foam and seawater into the Regina Maris's hold, augmented by the closer attention of the small firetransports crowding the dock and the men and women carrying the fight to the deck itself.
As the efforts to contain the fire became ever more spectacular, so the crowd gathered to watch it increased in proportion. Laborers delayed upon leaving their shifts or before going to their tasks; office workers left their desks to congregate outside their buildings or stood by windows offering grandstand views; messengers and passersby with more time to spare shouldered their way through to the dock itself to secure as unobstructed as possible an observation post. Rael judged that there had to be in excess of four thousand people in and around the Cup's seafront alone and easily that many again scattered farther away along the banks and on the opposite shore. A number of small merchant and pleasure craft had also drawn near, keeping just far enough away as not to interfere with the work of the fireboats.