Free The Road to the Rim by A. Bertram Chandler

said, "Mum wanted to come along, but I soon put the damper on that. But I was bloody amazed to find you here."

    "Were you?" asked Grimes coldly.

    "You bet I was. Never thought you were cut out to be a bloody pirate." He cursed briefly as a spatter of hot metal from his sizzling soldering iron stung his hand. "A cold weld'd be better, but it'd take too much time. But where was I? Oh, yes. The shock to me system when I saw you comin' aboard this wagon."

    "I have my quite valid reasons," Grimes told him stiffly.

    "You're tellin' me. Just as my missus had quite valid reasons for wantin' to come with me. But she ain't a gunnery expert." He added piously, "Thank Gawd."

    "And I am one," said the Ensign, trying to change the drift of the conversation before he lost his temper. "Yes. that's right. Just stick to the color code. The blue wiring's the ALGE . . ."

    "I know," Baxter told him. "Tell me, is it any good?"

    "Yes. Of course, if an enemy held us in her beams for any prolonged period we should all be cooked, but as far as it goes it's effective enough."

    "Hope you're right." He made the last connections, then replaced the panel on the open shallow box. "Here's yer magic cabinet, Professor. All we have ter see now is what rabbits yer can pull outer the hat."

    "Plenty, I hope," said Captain Craven, who had returned to Control. "And are you ready now, Mr. Grimes?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "Good. Then we'll make it stations. If you will take the copilot's chair, while Mr. Baxter goes along to look after his rockets."

    "Will do, Skipper," said the engineer, packing away his tools as he pulled himself toward the exit hatch.

    The ship's intercom came to life, in Jane Pentecost's voice. "Connection between vessels severed. Airlock door closed."

    "We're still connected," grumbled Craven. "Delia O'Ryan still has her magnetic grapnels out." He spoke into the transceiver microphone: "Epsilon Sextans to Delta Orionis. Cast off, please. Over."

    "Delta Orionis to Epsilon Sextans. Casting off." Through a viewport Grimes could see one of the bright mooring wires snaking back into its recess. "All clear, Captain."

    "Thank you, Captain Kennedy." And in a softer voice, "And I hope you keep that handle to your name, Bill."

    "Thank you, sir. And all the best, Captain, from all of us, to all of you. And good hunting."

    "Thanks. And look after the old Delia, Captain. And yourself. Over—and out."

    "Delta Orionis to Epsilon Sextans. Over and out."

    (There was something very final, thought Grimes, about those outs.)

    He was aware that the ships were drifting slowly apart. Now he could see all of Delta Orionis from his viewport. He could not help recalling the day on which he had first seen her, at the Woomera spaceport. So much had happened since that day. (And so much was still to happen—he hoped.) He heard Craven say into the intercom, "Stand by for temporal precession. We're desynchronizing." Then, there was the giddiness, and the off-beat whine of the Mannschenn Drive that pierced his eardrums painfully, and beyond the viewports the great, shining shape of the other ship shimmered eerily and was suddenly warped into the likeness of a monstrous Klein flash—then vanished. Where she had been (where she still was, in space but not in time) shone the distant stars, the stars that in this distorted continuum were pulsing spirals of iridescence.

    "Mannschenn Drive. Cut !"

    The thin, high keening died abruptly. Outside, the stars were glittering points of light, piercingly bright against the blackness.

    "Mr. Grimes!" Craven's voice was sharp. "I hope that you take more interest in gunnery than you do in ship handling. In case it has escaped your notice, I would remind you that you are second in command of this vessel, and in full charge in the event of my demise."

    "Sorry, sir," stammered Grimes. Then, suddenly bold, "But I'm not your second in command, sir. I've signed no Articles."

    Surprisingly, Craven laughed. "A spacelawyer, yet!