It was Mike's turn to blink. "He was getting pretty personal--"
"I guess I know a compliment when I hear one, Mr. Mallison."
"Mike."
She grinned. "Okay--Mike. I'd like to see the ship when you've got time."
"I've got time now. Let's go."
They started at the prow and worked backwards. Her trip to Outer Port had been her first space flight, a fact that amazed Mike in this age when even the middle-class Terrans vacationed on Mars.
"We had so little time," Doree said. "And so little money."
He explained the working of the _Space Queen_, enjoying the chore, and they worked their way slowly backward. Amidship, Doree said, "I think I'll look in on father."
She went below and almost immediately, Nicko appeared at the after end of the companionway. "We've got company, Mike."
"What do you mean, company?"
"Ship winging to."
Mike scowled. "Out here? The radio hasn't spoken. Maybe they're in trouble and can't sound out."
He ran aft, Nicko stumping along behind. He looked out the stern port.
A ship all right. A slim cruiser of the D class, the light of faraway suns reflecting against its hull, giving it the ghostly appearance of all craft in space.
"Ever see that ship before?" Mike asked.
"Not me. I'll bet my right top arm it never moored at Outer Port. If it had we'd know the boat."
"Lots of ships never moored at Outer Port. Go forward and see if you can speak to them. Maybe they can sound in."
Nicko left and Mike watched the ship arc closer. Mike admired the skill of the pilot, then realized the ship was on complete automatic, taking its impulses from radar bounced against the hull of the _Space Queen_. No human pilot could hold a ship that steady.
She appeared intent on locking to the _Space Queen_'s after hatch.
Mike wished her all the luck in the universe and hoped he had what she was looking for. In case of illness his stock of medicines was only standard and would not cover any extraordinary cases.
Then he stiffened. There was movement next to the antenna prow on the ship's nose. A small hatch was opening. Mike cursed himself for stupidity. Yet at the same time, he could think of nothing that should have made him suspicious. These were peaceful areas. It would have been ridiculous for bandits to work this area. Raiding here made as much sense as operating in the heart of the Gobi Desert back on Terra.
Even as he whirled to try and reach the control cabin in time, a steel arm shot out from the pit uncovered by the raised hatch. Mike didn't see the fine-wired grid at the end of the arm but he knew it was there and he knew its purpose.
As he ran, he sensed the magnetic wires groping toward the hull of the _Space Queen_. If they made contact--
Contact was made while he ran up the companionway. The electroparalysis bolt hit him while he was still twenty feet from the control cabin. It caught him on his right toe with his left foot extended. It froze him in that position, held him in the grotesque running pose while fire poured through his veins. It held not only Mike and every other living thing aboard, but froze the ship itself into immobility; everything stopped except the raging movement of flaming gases in the jet tubes and these too died out as their source of supply was speedily choked.
Mike blacked out.
When his consciousness returned, Mike figured he had been out for about an hour. He based this on past experience with electroparalysis rays.
Using every ounce of will-power, he forced his elevated foot toward the companionway floor. The magnetic field permeating the dead ship was still potent, forming, in a sense, a maze of invisible wires, holding him in his frozen position.
He knew that in the companionway he had taken the full brunt of the charge. Possibly the others were again able to move about. But no one came to his aid.
His foot touched the floor. He pulled at his back foot like a man striving to loose himself from thick mud. He got it forward. A step, then another. From the control cabin came the sound of dolorous curses emitted in many languages. Nicko was again functioning.
Mike got his hands on the safety bars of the ladder leading down to the lounge. He pulled himself toward it and as he was descending, the magnetism of the electroparalytic bolt loosed its hold and he fell headlong. Picking himself up, he hurried into the lounge.
Doree was alone. She was still frozen to the chair in which she sat.
Her legs were drawn up gracefully under her slim body. Only her eyes were alive--questioning, beseeching.
Mike picked her up and laid her on the floor. He knelt and began massaging the rigid muscles, drawing her legs out slowly, watching her eyes for indications of pain.
"You'll be all right in a few minutes," he said. "We have to take it slow and easy or you'll get the bends."
While he worked he was asking himself questions. Who? In God's name--why? What reason had anyone for attacking the ship? There was nothing of value aboard. He had no enemies--to his knowledge--in this part of the universe.
Doree was trying to speak. Her throat worked. Her eyes were frantic.
Mike got her legs straightened out without sending her into screaming pain. Now she was rising into a sitting position on her own power.
"Took--took--Fa--him--" she whispered hoarsely.
"Your father--where is he?"
"McKee--Talbott--took him!"
"Who in the hell are McKee and Talbott?"
Gradually, her throat unlocked. "They came in and took him--carried him out."
"I asked you who they were."
Tears welled in her eyes. She bit her lower lip and tried to control her fluttering throat. "I--I tried to scream. When they carried him out I couldn't do a thing." She burst into tears.
She was normal again. Mike got to his feet. "I've got to check the ship. When I get back I want some answers and you'd better have them ready."
He hurried from the lounge and up the ladder, almost slamming into Nicko as he gained the companionway. Nicko's scales were a sickly, pale green. He tottered weakly on his stumpy legs using all four of his arms to support himself against the bulkhead.
He grinned hideously. "Friends of yours?"
"I don't know who the hell they were. You all right?"
"I'm fine."