The Misplaced Battleship Read online

service record. Boredom or curiosity had driven him out,and he was reading one of my releases with horror.

  "Billionaire to found own world ... space yacht filled with luxuries tolast a hundred years," the captain's face grew red as he flipped throughthe stack of notes. "What connection does this tripe have with catchingthose murderers?"

  * * * * *

  When we were alone he was anything but courteous to me, having assuredhimself by not-too-subtle questioning that I was a spurious admiral.There was no doubt I was still in charge, but our relationship wasanything but formal.

  "This tripe and nonsense," I told him, "is the bait that will snag ourfish. A trap for Pepe and his partner in crime."

  "Who is this mysterious billionaire?"

  "Me," I said. "I've always wanted to be rich."

  "But this ship, the space yacht, where is it?"

  "Being built now in the naval shipyard at Udrydde. We're almost ready togo there now, soon as this batch of instructions goes out."

  Captain Steng dropped the releases onto the table, then carefully wipedhis hands off to remove any possible infection. He was trying to be fairand considerate of my views, and not succeeding in the slightest.

  "It doesn't make sense," he growled. "How can you be sure this killerwill ever read one of these things. And if he does--why should he beinterested? It looks to me as if you are wasting time while he slipsthrough your fingers. The alarm should be out and every ship notified.The Navy alerted and patrols set on all spacelanes--"

  "Which he could easily avoid by going around, or better yet not evenbother about, since he can lick any ship we have. That's not theanswer," I told him. "This Pepe is smart and as tricky as a fixedgambling machine. That's his strength--and his weakness as well.Characters like that never think it possible for someone else tooutthink them. Which is what _I'm_ going to do."

  "Modest, aren't you," Steng said.

  "I try not to be," I told him. "False modesty is the refuge of theincompetent. I'm going to catch this thug and I'll tell you how I'll doit. He's going to hit again soon, and wherever he hits there will besome kind of a periodical with my plant in it. Whatever else he isafter, he is going to take all of the magazines and papers he can find.Partly to satisfy his own ego, but mostly to keep track of the things heis interested in. Such as ship sailings."

  "You're just guessing--you don't know all this."

  His automatic assumption of my incompetence was beginning to get meannoyed. I bridled my temper and tried one last time.

  "Yes, I'm guessing--an informed guess--but I do know some facts as well._Ogget's Dream_ was cleaned out of all reading matter, that was one ofthe first things I checked. We can't stop the battleship from attackingagain, but we can see to it that the time after that she sails into atrap."

  "I don't know," the captain said, "it sounds to me like...."

  I never heard what it sounded like, which is all right since he wasgetting under my skin and might have been tempted to pull mypseudo-rank. The alarm sirens cut his sentence off and we foot-raced tothe communications room.

  Captain Steng won by a nose, it was his ship and he knew all theshortcuts. The psiman was holding out a transcription, but he summed itup in one sentence. He looked at me while he talked and his face washard and cold.

  "They hit again, knocked out a Navy supply satellite, thirty-four mendead."

  "If your plan doesn't work, _admiral_," the captain whispered hoarselyin my ear, "I'll personally see that you're flayed alive!"

  "If my plan doesn't work, _captain_--there won't be enough of my skinleft to pick up with a tweezer. Now if you please, I'd like to get toUdrydde and pick up my ship as soon as possible."

  The easy-going hatred and contempt of all my associates had annoyed me,thrown me off balance. I was thinking with anger now, not with logic.Forcing a bit of control, I ordered my thoughts, checking off a mentallist.

  "Belay that last command," I shouted, getting back into my old space-dogmood. "Get a call through first and find out if any of our plants werepicked up during the raid."

  While the psiman unfocused his eyes and mumbled under his breath Iriffled some papers, relaxed and cool. The ratings and officers waitedtensely, and made some slight attempt to conceal their hatred of me. Ittook about ten minutes to get an answer.

  "Affirmative," the psiman said. "A store ship docked there twenty hoursbefore the attack. Among other things, it left newspapers containing thearticle."

  "Very good," I said calmly. "Send a general order to suspend all futureactivity with the planted releases. Send it by psimen only, no mentionon any other Naval signaling equipment, there's a good chance now itmight be 'overheard.'"

  I strolled out slowly, in command of the situation. Keeping my faceturned away so they couldn't see the cold sweat.

  * * * * *

  It was a fast run to Udrydde where my billionaire's yacht, the_Eldorado_, was waiting. The dockyard commander showed me the ship, andmade a noble effort to control his curiosity. I took a sadistic revengeon the Navy by not telling him a word about my mission. After checkingout the controls and special apparatus with the technicians, I clearedthe ship. There was a tape in the automatic navigator that would put meon the course mentioned in all the articles, just a press of a buttonand I would be on my way. I pressed the button.

  It was a beautiful ship, and the dockyard had been lavish with theirattention to detail. From bow to rear tubes she was plated in pure gold.There are other metals with a higher albedo, but none that give a richereffect. All the fittings, inside and out, were either machine-turned orplated. All this work could not have been done in the time allotted, theNavy must have adapted a luxury yacht to my needs.

  Everything was ready. Either Pepe would make his move--or I would sailon to my billionaire's paradise planet. If that happened, it would bebest if I stayed there.

  Now that I was in space, past the point of no return, all the doubtsthat I had dismissed fought for attention. The plan that had seemed soclear and logical now began to look like a patched and crazy makeshift.

  "Hold on there, sailor," I said to myself. Using my best admiral'svoice. "Nothing has changed. It's still the best and _only_ planpossible under the circumstances."

  Was it? Could I be sure that Pepe, flying his mountain of a ship andeating Navy rations, would be interested in some of the comforts andluxuries of life? Or if the luxuries didn't catch his eye, would he beinterested in the planetary homesteading gear? I had loaded the cardswith all the things he might want, and planted the information where hecould get it. He had the bait now--but would he grab the hook?

  I couldn't tell. And I could work myself into a neurotic state if I keptrunning through the worry cycle. It took an effort to concentrate onanything else, but it had to be made. The next four days passed veryslowly.

  When the alarm blew off, all I felt was an intense sensation of relief.I might be dead and blasted to dust in the next few minutes, but thatdidn't seem to make much difference.

  Pepe had swallowed the bait. There was only one ship in the galaxy thatcould knock back a blip that big at such a distance. It was closingfast, using the raw energy of the battleship engines for a headlongapproach. My ship bucked a bit as the tug-beams locked on at maximumdistance. The radio bleeped at me for attention at the same time. Iwaited as long as I dared, then flipped it on. The voice boomed out.

  "... That you are under the guns of a warship! Don't attempt to run,signal, take evasive action, or in any other way...."

  "Who are you--and what the devil do you want?" I spluttered into themike. I had my scanner on, so they could see me, but my own screenstayed dark. They weren't sending any picture. In a way it made my acteasier, I just played to an unseen audience. They could see the rich cutof my clothes, the luxurious cabin behind me. Of course they couldn'tsee my hands.

  "It doesn't matter who we are," the radio boomed again. "Just obeyorders if you care to live. Stay away from the controls until we ha
vetied on, then do exactly as I say."

  There were two distant clangs as magnetic grapples hit the hull. Alittle later the ship lurched, drawn home against the battleship. I letmy eyes roll in fear, looking around for a way to escape--and taking apeek at the outside scanners. The yacht was flush against thespace-filling bulk of the other ship. I pressed the button that sent thetorch-wielding robot on his way.

  * * * * *

  "Now let me tell you something," I snapped into the mike, wiping awaythe worried billionaire expression. "First I'll repeat your ownwarning--obey orders if you want to live.