Saucer: The Conquest

are dead in the States alone from your antigravity attacks. There are warrants in the U.S., Britain, Germany—'

'That was Pierre. He tried to minimize the loss of life.'

'Good ol' Pierre, always thinking of others. I've heard that France and Germany are full of progressive thinkers who have abolished the death penalty. We're a little more backward in the States. Still, maybe the jury will give you folks life in the can instead of frying you. Get the best lawyers money can buy, cry for the cameras, and hope for the best.'

'You certainly sugarcoat it, Pine.'

'Or you can stay up here enjoying the scenic view until the air or food runs out, the machinery breaks down, whatever. Stay forever or wait for your ride, your choice. But Egg is going with us.'

'What if we say no?'

'Then you die where you stand.'

The president grinned at P.J. O'Reilly, the same grin the secretary of state found so offensive. 'That woman has style! We gotta appoint her ambassador to something.' 'If she lives,' O'Reilly said thoughtfully.

Rip Cantrell hurried through the rooms of the base looking for people while Charley laid out the options for Julie Artois. Didn't find anyone. The two grenades that remained in his pocket were on his mind. Perhaps he could booby-trap a couple pieces of equipment. Naw.

Satisfied that the dying chef and Pierre Artois were the only living folks in the base — he looked in again at Pierre to make sure he was behaving — he went to the main air lock and stepped inside.

'You don't seem to understand the situation,' Julie told Charley Pine. 'My friends and I are leaving in the saucer. You, your friend and Monsieur Cantrell can accompany us. But we are all leaving together.'

'You don't even have a pair of deuces, lady.'

Julie didn't understand the poker analogy, but she correctly surmised that Charley was commenting on the weakness of her negotiating position. 'I have Monsieur Cantrell,' she said confidently, 'and I have you. One bullet for him, one for you. Your friend in the saucer may make it back to earth, but I promise you that you won't. Are you ready to die, Charley Pine?'

Charley glanced upward, at a spot on the rock above the air lock door. Aim and fire, she ordered.

The place that she was staring at began to sparkle and pop. Pieces of stone flew off. Some of the chips struck the man beside Egg, and he looked around.

Smoke and dust and rock fragments poured from the stone.

Ceasefire!

It took several seconds for the dust to slowly settle, revealing a hole the size of a bushel basket in the cliff.

Keeping her pistol jammed in Egg's ribs, Julie glanced over her shoulder as the last of the rock fragments fell like snowflakes around the little party.

When she turned back to Charley, the American pilot asked, 'Are you ready, Julie?'

The man on the other side of Egg tossed his pistol away. It flew for ten feet, a long, lazy arc, before it hit the lunar surface and skittered along.

'Waiting for the spaceplane sounds like a good deal to me,' he said on his helmet radio.

Julie stiffened. She looked around once, then looked at the saucer, the nose of which was tilted down and seemed to be pointing directly at her. 'You win,' she said, and dropped her pistol. It fell at her feet.

'Come on, Uncle Egg.'

He walked forward toward Charley. She hooked her arm in his and walked toward the saucer. It descended slowly until the landing gear touched the ground. The hatch under it was still hanging open. Charley glanced back to ensure the Frenchmen hadn't moved, then bent to go under the saucer to the hatch. That's when she saw a space-suited figure with an assault rifle leveled at her approaching from behind the saucer. Where has he been hiding?

'Not so fast, Charley Pine,' Julie said gleefully. 'Stop right where you are or Henri Salmon will shoot you dead.'

Charley glanced over her shoulder. Neither Julie nor her pals had yet retrieved their pistols.

She shoved Egg forward into the dirt and dove down herself. At the same instant the rocket engines of the saucer spurted out a blast of flame, several seconds' worth.

The saucer hopped forward a few feet. One of the landing gear pads struck Egg a glancing blow on the arm, but fortunately he rolled away from it and it didn't crush him.

Charley Pine lifted her eyes, looking for the man. He was flying above the surface away from the saucer, tumbling end over end, being carried along by the hot exhaust gases. He didn't have his rifle.

Charley scrambled up, dragging Egg. She grabbed an arm and jerked him off the surface, half lifted him into the yawning hole in the saucer's belly. He began scrambling too, and she pushed against his leg. He tumbled in and she leaped upward with so much vigor she struck the ceiling of the craft and almost fell back through the hatch opening. As she reached for the hatch a bullet spanged off it, making a spark. She grabbed the handle and pulled it closed.

Whew!

Charley Pine stood and looked through the canopy. The little knot of world conquerers in front of the air lock were milling around, collecting their guns, touching helmets together and probably asking each other, What now?

She climbed into the pilot's seat. Lifted the saucer a few feet and aimed the reticle at Julie.

'Where are you, Rip?'

'In the lock.'

'Come on out.'

Julie Artois heard the transmission, of course, and spun around. She was facing the lock as it opened. Rip stepped out with his rifle leveled and moved slightly to his left to go around the group.

'Drop the pistols!' Charley ordered over the helmet radio.

Julie turned her head to look at the saucer, then turned back to face Rip. She lifted the pistol ever so slightly, aiming, probably.

Fire!

The antimatter particles caught her in the right side. Most of them passed harmlessly through her suit and her body and exited out the other side, where they penetrated the cliff and annihilated themselves in the rock. One of them didn't, however. It exploded an atom in her lung. The pain was intense and sudden. She released the pistol as a second antipositron met its opposite number in her liver.

Ceasefire!

Julie staggered. Blood flowed from her nostrils in a stream. She tried breathing though her mouth, and with every breath she gushed blood. Suddenly she was too weak to stand. She slowly toppled over.

Charley set the saucer down and rushed to the hatch. When it opened, Rip came scrambling in. He slammed the hatch shut and latched it, slapped her on the arm and whacked his helmet into hers. 'You did great. Let's repres-surize and get the hell outta Dodge.'

'What about the antigravity beam generator?'

'I took care of it. Everyone in there is dead except for Pierre.' He didn't take the time to tell her about the chef. 'Salmon shot them all.'

Charley climbed into the pilot's seat and began the pres-surization process. The people milling around outside couldn't hurt them now. One of them was bent over, looking into Julie's faceplate.

Still, Charley had had enough of this place. She lifted the saucer on the antigravity rings, turned it and began moving across the lava plain to the southeast.

'What's happening?' RJ. O'Reilly roared at the speakerphone. The president, the translator and O'Reilly were staring at it. The president was holding on to the desk so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

'There was some kind of shootout,' the president muttered.

'God in heaven,' O'Reilly said, and mopped his brow with his handkerchief.

When the radio remained silent, he pleaded at it, 'Tell us something, please!'

Henri Salmon came running in huge leaping bounds toward the open air lock. He didn't even glance at Julie Artois, who was still lying on the lunar surface, unable to breathe, drowning in her own blood. He was the first into