End as a Hero
Public Domain
Chapter 3
The shrilling of the proximity alarm blasted through the silence. For a wild moment I thought Kayle had beaten me to the punch; then I realized it was the routine DEW line patrol contact.
“Z four-oh-two, I am reading your IFF. Decelerate at 1.8 gee preparatory to picking up approach orbit...”
The screen went on droning out instructions. I fed them into the autopilot, at the same time running over my approach plan. The scout was moving in closer. I licked dry lips. It was time to try.
I closed my eyes, reached out--as the Gool mind had reached out to me--and felt the touch of a Signals Officer’s mind, forty thousand miles distant, aboard the patrol vessel. There was a brief flurry of struggle; then I dictated my instructions. The Signals Officer punched keys, spoke into his microphone:
“As you were, Z four-oh-two. Continue on present course. At Oh-nineteen seconds, pick up planetary for re-entry and let-down.”
I blanked out the man’s recollection of what had happened, caught his belated puzzlement as I broke contact. But I was clear of the DEW line now, rapidly approaching atmosphere.
“Z four-oh-two,” the speaker crackled. “This is planetary control. I am picking you up on channel forty-three, for re-entry and let-down.”
There was a long pause. Then:
“Z four-oh-two, countermand DEW Line clearance! Repeat, clearance countermanded! Emergency course change to standard hyperbolic code ninety-eight. Do not attempt re-entry. Repeat: do not attempt re-entry!”
It hadn’t taken Kayle long to see that I’d gotten past the outer line of defense. A few more minutes’ grace would have helped. I’d play it dumb, and hope for a little luck.
“Planetary, Z four-oh-two here. Say, I’m afraid I missed part of that, fellows. I’m a little banged up--I guess I switched frequencies on you. What was that after ‘pick up channel forty-three’... ?”
“Four-oh-two, sheer off there! You’re not cleared for re-entry!”
“Hey, you birds are mixed up,” I protested. “I’m cleared all the way. I checked in with DEW--”
It was time to disappear. I blanked off all transmission, hit the controls, following my evasive pattern. And again I reached out--
A radar man at a site in the Pacific, fifteen thousand miles away, rose from his chair, crossed the darkened room and threw a switch. The radar screens blanked off...
For an hour I rode the long orbit down, fending off attack after attack. Then I was clear, skimming the surface of the ocean a few miles southeast of Key West. The boat hit hard. I felt the floor rise up, over, buffeting me against the restraining harness.
I hauled at the release lever, felt a long moment of giddy disorientation as the escape capsule separated from the sinking lifeboat deep under the surface. Then my escape capsule was bobbing on the water.
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