The Other Side of Nowhere

Duckworth gasped and turned white. He explained agitatedly that his was a tape-drama production unit, not in search of adventure. They'd come on the Rim Star to shoot the ship- scene sequences for a play about an area somewhere in space where all physical laws were reversed. They were prepared to make special-effects shots.

"How about defending yourselves?" asked Braden. "It seems that the skipper and I can only depend on each other. If we have to look after you too, it won't be easy!"

Duckworth gestured in exasperation. He was a producer and director, he protested. He staged adventure dramas. He and his associates were passengers! They were theatrical people. They'd secured passage on the Rim Star with the implied guarantee...

"Subject," said Braden harshly, "to the hazards of space. Ship officers have the right to demand help even from passengers in time of emergency. One's coming up. How much help can you give?"

Duckworth swallowed.

"Any weapons?" demanded Braden. "They're waved around most of the tape plays I've seen! What have you got?"

Duckworth stammered, not wholly from fright but more from shock. Groundlings on ultra- civilized planets go in for melodrama as a pleasurable spectacle. They don't imagine being in danger themselves. Duckworth had to change the whole course of his thoughts in order to answer. He'd never considered facing real danger. It was almost impossible for him to readjust and think in terms of possible conflict with criminals who were not playing dramatic roles.

But he managed to answer eventually. Yes, they had weapons for their tape-drama production. They had blast-rifles and blast-pistols. But they were stage weapons. They looked like real blasters, and sounded like them. When they were fired, very convincing blaster-bolts shot out of their muzzles. But they were really only fireworks instead of deadly small vortexes of ball-lightning. In short, the tape-drama production unit was completely unarmed.

"I've a few pocket blasters for you," said Braden dourly. "You'll have to do the best you can. Who'll have the nerve to use them?"

Duckworth winced. He'd never fired even a stage weapon. Fortescue had played dramatic parts and could probably handle a weapon, more or less. Hardy could too, perhaps.

"If I... really had to count on somebody," said Duckworth rather desperately, "it would be Diane. If you've got just one pistol to pass out, give it to her. She won't use it unless she has to. She's a very fine girl. Worth two men like Fortescue - or me."

Braden growled. When a man admits that a woman is a better man than he is, he may be honest but he should be ashamed.

"Call her out here," he commanded. "And Fortescue."

He paced up and down the corridor while Duckworth went into the passengers' quarters and came out again with the actor and the girl. Braden grimly told them what he'd told Duckworth. Fortescue looked pained. Diane looked steadily at Braden until he'd finished.

"We'll get out the stage blasters," she said quietly. "If there's need, real ones and stage ones going off together ought to be almost as effective as if they were all real, because they'll be surprising."

"But I'm afraid of Derr," Duckworth said unhappily. "When she hears about this..."

"We won't let her," said Diane decisively. "She'd make a production out of the whole business. Everybody else, yes. But not her."

"Here are three blasters," said Braden. "Keep them handy. Maybe nothing will happen for days. Maybe we can stall off the whole business indefinitely. We'll try. But..."

He explained, curtly and with precision, how the emergency light system could be turned on. Where there were emergency supplies of food and water. How the passengers' compartment could be isolated from within, with its own air supply. He found that he was giving the explanation to Diane.

"Nothing may happen for days," he repeated, "and it's possible nothing will happen at all. But there's one thing . He hesitated, and then said angrily. "I've profound doubts about the steward. Don't take his word for anything. Especially no message that you can start shooting pictures. Especially no word from the skipper or me that would make you leave your quarters or be separated. If I've a message for you, I'll bring it. If the skipper has one, demand that he give it in person. Understand?"

T'hen he said urgently:

"I can't possibly have any designs that wouldn't be countered by the instructions I've given you. Stay together. Always be armed. Keep watch. You can't be anything but safer that way! And stay in your quarters!"

Later, he puzzled over his own urgency to make them - especially Diane - believe what he told them. It wasn't usual for him to reason with anybody. As the mate of the Rim Star his duty was to get the ship to her destination. He'd tried to have the skipper return and sign on another crew, simply to make her arrival at Handel's Planet more likely. He'd fought the five crewmen in the forecastle in an attempt to prevent any chance of a mutiny. But right now...