Free Kenneth Bulmer by The Wizard of Starship Poseiden Page B

on this new space Navy weapon—"
    Randolph felt the red roaring rage in him and bit down hard to control himself. He had to retain his icy composure. But a
little anger—a little—would be justified and expected. Keeping the lid on was
tough.
    "I'd like to flay alive every man jack
in the government and their jackals of Trustees! Taking money that belongs to
me—mel—and throwing it away, building machinery that can only kill and destroy!
And I intend—intended—to create life! This is a monstrous affront to the liberty of science and a damned waste of good
money—"
    Harcourt
smiled and held up a hand. "I guessed you'd feel almighty peeved, Cheslin.
I took a risk in telling you. But I couldn't—I just
couldn't let you go off without hearing the truth. It would have soured our
own relations. I can do nothing, of course."
    "And Professor Chase?"
    "She
just happened to be lucky. You were right in saying that the new theatre and
these papers of hers won't take a tithe
of the Maxwell Fund. But an appearance must be maintained that it is being
spent on University projects. She doesn't know, either. And I'll ask you not to
tell her."
    Randolph returned that smile, amazing
Harcourt. "I won't tell her. I'm off on a holiday in space. The government
can carry on their filthy back stairs intrigues all they like. But if they
think I'll vote for them in the next election—ha!"
    The little professor stormed back to his
department and hurried his staff through their packing. The rest of the expedition
was packed off and waiting in a small hotel by the spaceport not too far from
Lewistead. Randolph and Howland took their leave of the University. To
Howland's sorrow he missed Helen. She had rung him; but he'd been out. Now she
had left and he hadn't wished her a good journey. Well. Ancient manuscripts had
no importance beside the hijacking of a bullion-carrying spaceship and the
triumphant series of experiments leading to the proof that man could create
life. That was important.
    In
his domineering way Randolph had brushed aside Howland's questions about the
way they would explain their possession of the money. "I am Professor
Randolph!" the little man had flashed. "If I return from a spatial
voyage-even one on which money has been stolen—no one will dare suggest that I
had anything to do with that merely because I can now go ahead with my work.
Nonsense! And well cover the tracks . . ."
    It
was so flagrant that Howland knew wryly that the prof would get away with it.
    They
left on the thirtieth and by the first of the month, with a surprising hint of
sunshine clearing away the snow, trooped aboard starliner Poseidon, outward bound for Gagarin Three. The trip
would be a comfortable three weeks. Many folk took the journey to get away from
it all for a short time. A holiday mood pervaded the many levels and staterooms
and restaurants of the mammoth ship. Despite his own preoccupations and
worries, Howland experienced a strange and welcome lightening of spirits and an
eagerness to participate to the full in the life of the ship. After Gagarin
Three the ship made two further short trips, a week each, to Amir Bey Nine and
Santa Cruz Two. What existed on those two worlds the stellar vacationers didn't
know or care.
    In the warm, brilliantly lit, brightly
colored staterooms of the starliner, or in the mellow, subdued fighting of the
bars and intercorridor cafes,   everyone
shook off the winter shackles of Earth as they had left her; the snow gave
place to soft carpeting, the bleak greasy grey sky to cosy illuminations and
the frosty air to softly scented currents of pure ship's air.
    Randolph
beckoned Howland into his stateroom, a three-roomed apartment with every
luxurious convenience the weary stellar traveler might wish. Haflner joined
them as Randolph was saying, "On Santa Cruz Two is a culture originally set up by freethinkers from Earth, men and women who
took to space so that they could live their own peculiar system to