Where was the synthetic body going?
The flight field was manned by Hill personnel. Benteley could see intercon liners and transports resting here and there, and great hordes of people. Among the people Hill guards moved about keeping order. Suddenly Benteley changed his mind.
"Don't land here. Isn't there a military field near?"
"The Directorate maintains a small military repair field at Narvik. You want to go there? It's forbidden for non-military ships to set down in that area. I'll have to drop you over the side."
"That sounds like exactly what I want."
Leon Cartwright was fully awake when the Corpsman came running to his quarters. "How far away is he?" Cartwright asked. Even with the injection of sodium pentathol he had slept only a few hours. "Pretty close, I suppose."
"Peter Wakeman is dead," the Corpsman said.
Cartwright got quickly to his feet. "Who killed him?"
"The assassin."
"Then he's here." Cartwright yanked out his hand weapon. "What kind of defence can we put up? How did he find me? What happened to the network at Batavia?"
Rita O'Neill entered the room, white-faced and panting. "The Corps broke down completely. Pellig forced his way to the inner fortress and found you had gone."
Cartwright glanced at her, then back at the Corpsman. "What happened to your people?"
"Our strategy failed," the Corpsman said simply. "Verrick had some kind of deception. I think Wakeman had it analysed before he died."
"Wakeman's dead?" Rita asked in astonishment.
"Pellig got him," Cartwright explained. "That cuts us off from the Corps. We're completely on our own." He turned to the Corpsman. "Have you definitely located the assassin?"
"Our emergency network has collapsed. When Wakeman was killed we lost connection with Pellig."
"If Pellig has got this far," Cartwright said thoughtfully, "we haven't much chance of stopping him."
"Wakeman was handling it," Rita blazed savagely. "You can do much better. His brain was nothing compared with yours." As Cartwright produced a gun she continued: "You're going to defend yourself with that thing? That's all you're going to do?"
At that moment a Corpsman interrupted: "Mr. Cartwright, a ship from Earth has landed. Major Shaeffer was abroad with the remaining Corpsmen. He's coming up the ramp now."
Cartwright fumbled in his coat pocket for cigarettes. "Strange," he said to Rita, "that Wakeman is dead, despite his careful planning."
"I'm not sorry for him. I wish you'd do something instead of just standing there."
"There's not a lot left to do. If one man is determined to kill another there's not much that can be done to stop him."
"I think I liked you better when you were afraid.' Rita said bitterly. "At least I understood that."
"I'll make a concession," Cartwright said. "I'll sit facing the door." He settled gingerly on the edge of a table, his gun in his palm. "What does Pellig look like?" he asked the Corpsman.
"Young. Thin. Blond. No special characteristics."
"What kind of weapon is he using?"
"A thumb-gun. That's a heat beam principle."
"I want to recognize Pellig when I see him," Cartwright explained to Rita. "He may be the next person through that door."
The next person through the door was Major Shaeffer.
"I brought this man with me," Shaeffer said to Cartwright, as he entered the room. "As you'll want to talk to him."
A dark, neatly-dressed man in his early thirties had entered slightly behind Shaeffer.
"This is Ted Benteley," Shaeffer said. "A serf of Reese Verrick's."
Benteley was sharp and tense, more on edge than they had first realized. "Shaeffer is incorrect," he said. "I'm not under oath to Verrick any longer. I've left him."
"You broke your oath?" Cartwright asked.
"He broke his oath to me. I left in a considerable hurry and came here direct from A.G. Chemie; there were complications."
"He killed Herb Moore," Shaeffer amplified.
"Not exactly," Benteley corrected. "I killed his body, his physical self."
He began to explain the situation. When he was half through Cartwright interrupted with a question: "Where's—well, I suppose we should still call it Pellig. When we last heard of him he was only a few miles from here."
"The Pellig body is on its way towards deep space," Benteley said. "Moore isn't interested in you any more; now he's got his own problems. When he realized he was stuck in the synthetic body he left Luna and headed straight out."
"Where to?" Cartwright asked.
"I don't know."
"It doesn't matter," Rita said impatiently. "He's not after you; that's what's important. Perhaps he became insane. Perhaps he's lost control of the body."
"I doubt it. Moore will keep struggling to the end; he's desperate and totally ruthless." Benteley described how Moore had destroyed Peter Wakeman.
"We're aware of that," Cartwright said. "What kind of velocity is the synthetic body capable of?"
"C-plus," Benteley answered. He was puzzled by the question. "Aren't you satisfied Moore is moving away from here?"
Cartwright licked his dry lips. "I know where he's going."
There was a murmur and then Shaeffer said: "Of course!" He rapidly scanned Cartwright's mind. "He has to find some way to stay alive. Benteley gave me a lot of involuntary material on the trip here; I can fit in most of the missing parts. Moore will undoubtedly be able to find Preston with the information he has."
Benteley was astounded. "Preston alive!"
"That explains the prior informational request," Cartwright mused. "Verrick must have tapped the closed-circuit ipvic beam from the ship." His cigarette came to an end; he dropped it, ground it out wrathfully, lit another. "I should have paid more attention when Wakeman brought it up."
"What could you have done?" Shaeffer inquired.
"Our ship is close to Preston's. Moore wouldn't be interested in it, though. He's after the method by which John Preston has kept himself alive; he'll be trying to get hold of the apparatus to adapt it for his own use." Cartwright shook his head irritably. "Is there any way we can set up a screen to follow his movements?"
"I suppose so," Benteley said. "Ipvic arranged a con- stant visual beam from the body back to Chemie. We could cut into it; it's still being relayed."
"I'd like to keep a visual check on the Pellig body." Cartwright slid his gun into a suitcase on the floor. "We're better off now, of course. Thanks, Benteley." He nodded vaguely to Benteley. "Pellig won't be coming here. We don't have to worry about that, any more."
Rita was eyeing Benteley intently. "You didn't break your oath? You don't consider yourself a felon?"
Benteley returned her hard stare. "Verrick broke his oath to me. He released me by betraying me."
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Well," Cartwright said, "let's have something to eat, and you can explain the rest to us." He moved towards the door, the ghost of a smile on his tired face. "We have time, now. My assassin is a thing of the past."
As they ate, Benteley put his feelings into words. "I killed Moore because I had no choice. In a few seconds he would have turned Pellig over to a technician and returned to his own body at Chemie. Pellig would have gone on and detonated against you; some of Moore's staff are as loyal as that."