Page:Fantastic Volume 08 Number 01.djvu/70

 ship, and get to Earth on her. But you aren't going to do it. Not this time, you're not. Not while I'm here."

I tried my most authoritative voice.

"Lieutenant Botoes," I ordered, "put on a suit, and come out here."

He laughed.

"Think you've got me, don't you? You toppled the ship over, and killed Raul, then you pushed Geoff out of himself, and took him over. I'm the only obstacle now, aren't I? But you haven't got me yet. I'll soon show you."

Then there was a clang that hurt my ears. I guessed he had been holding the helmet to speak into its radio, and had now dropped it. Then I saw the outer door of the lock swing shut. I ran to it, and battered on it, telling him not to be a fool. I had the winding-key to open it from outside, but it would be no good trying that for a minute or more—to attempt it while the automatic mechanism was still securing it would simply have taken me round with the handle.

I went to the port. It was just a little too high for me to see in, so I jumped, in order to get a glimpse of what he was up to. At the same moment the port went blank as the cover closed.

I hurried back to the airlock door, put the key in, and began to wind the locking-bolts back. The telltale inside must have shown him what I was up to, for the key suddenly reversed in my hands as the mechanism started again. I swore, and snatched it out.

"Camilo!' I called, hoping my voice would reach him from the dropped helmet. "Camilo, you've got it all wrong. Don't be a damned fool! Let me in!"

His only reply was, very faintly, a jeering laugh.

"Camilo—" I was beginning again, when suddenly the ship trembled, and there was a huge spurt of dust and sand, forward. I hadn't a moment's doubt what that meant, and I ran for my life.

Even encumbered with the suit, I covered the ground with great, leaping strides a dozen yards long, and was some eighty yards away in a few seconds, before I misjudged my step, and fell.

Still sprawling, I looked back at the Figurao. A cloud of dust and sand was spurting from beneath her forepart. Some of the grit was pattering on my helmet. As I watched, the forepart swayed, and then lifted clear of the 70