Early Victorian Cambridge 1st Edition Denys Arthur Winstanley Instant Download
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Early Victorian Cambridge 1st Edition Denys Arthur
Winstanley Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Denys Arthur Winstanley
ISBN(s): 9781108002288, 1108002285
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 7.34 MB
Year: 2009
Language: english
C a m b r i d g e L i b r a r y C o ll e c t i o n
Books of enduring scholarly value
Cambridge
The city of Cambridge received its royal charter in 1201, having already been home
to Britons, Romans and Anglo-Saxons for many centuries. Cambridge University
was founded soon afterwards and celebrates its octocentenary in 2009. This series
explores the history and influence of Cambridge as a centre of science, learning,
and discovery, its contributions to national and global politics and culture, and its
inevitable controversies and scandals.
Cambridge New York Melbourne Madrid Cape Town Singapore São Paolo Delhi
Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York
www.cambridge.org
Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781108002288
ISBN 978-1-108-00228-8
This book reproduces the text of the original edition. The content and language reflect
the beliefs, practices and terminology of their time, and have not been updated.
EARLY VICTORIAN
CAMBRIDGE
EARLY VICTORIAN
CAMBRIDGE
By
D. A. WINSTANLEY
CAMBRIDGE
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS
1955
PUBLISHED BY
THE SYNDICS OF THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS
London Office: Bentlcy House, N.W.T
American Branch: New York
Agents for Canada, India, and Pakistan: Macmillan
Chapter IV. T H E A T T A C K O N H E A D S O F H O U S E S
The powers of the Heads under the Elizabethan statutes. The success of
E. D. Clarke as Professor of Mineralogy. The question of continuing the
professorship after his death. J. S. Henslow as a candidate for it. The Grace of
15 May 1822 and the claim of the Heads to nominate the candidates for the
professorship. Opposition to the claim in the University. Attempts to
maintain peace. The election of Henslow. The legal proceedings. The con-
troversy between Sedgwick and Dr French. Henslow appointed Professor
of Botany. The Determination of Sir John Richardson. The Statutes Revision
VI CONTENTS
Chapter V. C H R I S T O P H E R WORDSWORTH
Appointment of Wordsworth as Master of Trinity. Disapproves of Univer-
sity lodging-houses. Urges the college to build a new court. His difficulties
with the Seniority. The laying of the foundation stone of the King's Court.
Wordsworth's attempt to establish an Honours examination in classics and
theology frustrated. Establishment of the Previous Examination. Reforms in
the ordinary degree examination. The institution of the Classical Tripos.,
Wordsworth's unpopularity in the college. His treatment of Connop
Thirlwall. The agitation among the Fellows. Wordsworth's resignation of
the mastership. The appointment of Whewell as his successor.
pages 58-82
Chapter VI. T H E R E L I G I O U S T E S T S
The Anglican monopoly of the University. The Dissenters petition against
the Tests. Beverley's letter to the Duke of Gloucester. The Senate and the
Tests. The appeal to Parliament. Debates in Parliament. Opinion in the
University. G. W. Wood's Bill rejected by House of Lords. Lord Radnor's
Bill for a University Commission. Sedgwick's change of mind about a
Commission. pages 83-96
Chapter IX. T R O U B L E A T T H E F I T Z W I L L I A M
Whewell's dictatorial temperament. Becomes Vice-Chancellor in November
1855. Rehangs the pictures in the Fitzwilliam Museum. The Master of
Downing protests on discovering what he has done. Whewell refuses to
admit to wrong-doing. Various members of the syndicate resign. Difficulty
in replacing them. Dr Geldart's letter. The new Fitzwilliam Syndicate.
pages 139-147
Chapter X. I N T E R N A L REFORM
Criticism of the Universities. Its justification. The degree courses improved.
Establishment of the Voluntary Theological Examination. Resumption of
lecturing by Professors. Attendance at professorial lectures. The weaknesses
of the professorial system,. Need of more museums and lecture-rooms. Lord
Radnor and the Universities. Minor reforms in college statutes. The revision
of the statutes of Trinity College (1844). The committee for revising the
University statutes. Prince Albert and reform. Honours examinations in
natural and moral sciences. Appointment of the Statutes Revision Syndicate.
Modification of Classical Tripos regulations. Failure to provide a University
entrance examination. The appointment of a Royal Commission. The op-
position in the University to a Commission. The intervention of Prince
Albert. pages 148-233
Syndicate. Its failure to agree about the Caput. Publication of its first report.
The reforms recommended in the report. Defects in the report. Issue of a
second report, recommending the institution of a Council of the Senate. The
submission of the reports to the Senate delayed. The publication of the report
of the Commissioners. The reforms recommended. The University and the
report. The issue of a third report by the Statutes Revision Syndicate. Studies
Syndicate and the Lecture-rooms and Museums Syndicate appointed;
pages 234-269
Appendices
A. Fellowships of Trinity College 424-428
B. The Trinity Seniority 429^33
C. Sir Isaac Newton's rooms 434-435
D. The statue of Isaac Barrow in Trinity Chapel 436-439
Index 441-460
PREFACE
I have attempted in the following pages to give an account of the
University of Cambridge during the first sixty years of the nineteenth
century, when it underwent reform both from within and without;
and though there are objections to the episodic treatment I have adopted,
it seemed better suited to the subject than the more orthodox chrono-
logical method, which would either have necessitated wearisome
repetition or imposed an intolerable strain on the memory of the reader.
Nevertheless, I may be thought to have taxed the memory and, what
is worse, the patience of the reader by describing in such detail the many
changes made in the curriculum and educational system of the Univer-
sity ; but, as many of these changes had consequences reaching to the
Cambridge of our own day, they could hardly be dismissed in a cursory
fashion.
I have been permitted to use the papers of the Prince Consort in the
Royal archives at Windsor, and beg leave to record my humble thanks
to His Majesty the King for this privilege. The Prince was Chancellor
of the University during a very critical period of its history; and his
correspondence with Vice-Chancellors and Heads of Houses reveals his
interest in the affairs of Cambridge and the wisdom of the advice he
gave. I also wish to express my gratitude to Mr Geoffrey Lloyd, M.P.,
the Secretary for Mines, who, when he was Parliamentary Under-
secretary for Home Affairs, most kindly placed at my disposal the
Letter Books of the Statutory Commissioners and other Home Office
papers, and by this assistance very much lightened my task. I am also
indebted to Mr Wilfred Bowring, who kindly allowed me to see a
diary kept by F. H. Bowring, who was elected to a fellowship of Trinity
in 1844.
Use has also been made of the collection of University Papers in the
University Library and, by the kindness of the Misses Allen, of the
diary of Joseph Romilly, which is also in the University Library. The
collection of University Papers has only recently been catalogued, and
without the skilled assistance of Mr Filby I should not have been able
to thread my way through what was until lately a chaotic mass of
material. Romilly's diary was used to a certain extent by the late
Mr J. W. Clark for the life of Adam Sedgwick, which he wrote in
XU PREFACE
D. A. W.
February 1940
Chapter I
THE F O U N D A T I O N OF D O W N I N G COLLEGE
and the discharge of other college duties, two of the sixteen fellowships,
unless certain disqualifications were contracted, were to be tenable /or
life i^ their holders resided and took Holy Orders within six months of
their election; but the other fourteen, to which no obligation of re-
sidence was attached, were to be tenable for only twelve years, ajid,
moreover, to be reserved for laymen who intended to pursue the pro-
fessions of law or medicine.
Several of these provisions had a very practical bearing. The en-
couragement, for instance, given to medical and legal studies in the
University was dictated by an urgent need. The medical school was
generally admitted to be in a very languishing condition, and, indeed,
the decline in its fortunes was painfully obvious. There was a Regius
Professorship of Physic, which had been established in the sixteenth
century; but it was a hundred years or more since an occupant of the
chair had delivered lectures. Some of the colleges had fellowships
appropriated to medicine, but this restriction was by no means always
observed. The subject was little, if at all, taught in any of the colleges,
and at Caius, which had for centuries enjoyed a medical reputation, no
trace of any systematic instruction in medicine can be discovered until
about the middle of the nineteenth century.1 It is therefore not sur-
prising that the candidates for medical degrees were few, for there was
very little to attract them. The law school, though in better repute, was
not in a satisfactory condition. It is true that the Regius Professors of
Givil Law regularly delivered lectures at which attendance was com-
pulsory, and included in their courses a certain amount of English law; 2
but it was mainly civil law that was taught and studied, and conse-
quently undergraduates reading for a law degree had little opportunity
of acquiring a knowledge of the legal system of their own country.
They were possibly unconscious of their loss, as most of them were
extremely idle. The law school was generally recognised to be a refuge
for those who were averse to intellectual effort.
The establishment of a Professorship of the Laws of England had
therefore a very definite purpose, and there was at least a hope that the
Downing Professor of Medicine would supply a want which the Regius
1
J. Venn, Biographical History ofGonville dnd Caius College (1901), vol. in, p. 253.
* In 1775 Philip Yorke, then a Fellow Commoner of Queens', attended the lectures
of the Regius Professor of Civil Law, and he informed his uncle, the second Lord
Hardwicke, that the latter part of the course "has had a great deal of English law in it,
particularly when he [the Professor] compared the usage of the civil law courts with
those of the common law". Add. MS. 35377, f. 181.
Other documents randomly have
different content
cubicles of a Mitchell. Apparently Betty had carried me in after I
collapsed. That was not as had as it sounds—I only weighed three or
four pounds here, and I was light-headed besides. The old girls with
the spinning wheel seemed to have changed their minds after they
blew my jet for me. They send me an asteroid, and it comes near
enough to land on more or less and there is a party on it, and it is
the Day expedition, including Betty. Thanks, girls! I would have
bowed to them, but on account of my ribs I only nodded.
Betty came back with a pair of scissors and a roll of plaster, cut loose
my undershirt, and began building a straightjacket. I averted my
attention from the fact that it would have to come off some time.
"Where's your uncle and the rest of the crew?" I asked.
"Everyone but me is off on a field trip to Thule. Opposition was a
week or two ago, and they're due back any time. Thule seems to be
our last chance. We haven't found out a thing so far. But Thule is
half-way to Jupiter from here and right on the edge of the Warp, or
where the Warp ought to be. If they don't bring back some
significant data from there we may begin to think you are right after
all and there isn't any such thing."
"I knew it all along," I informed her. "Not that I'm likely to have a
chance to prove it, with the Aspera dead and buried."
"Be still a minute—how am I going to tape you up if you keep on
talking? Blow out your breath." She ripped off half a meter of tape
and slapped it onto my side.
Presently she stepped back to inspect the job. "It'll do, I guess," she
said, frowning critically. "For the time being, anyway. Uncle Ed will
be back in a couple of days, and he can fix it right."
"Oh no he can't. When this comes off it stays off."
"Why Tom! Are you afraid of a little tape?"
"You bet I am. Give me a ray-burn any day."
"All right then." She picked up my shirt and began helping me into it.
"But if you grow up lopsided or chicken-breasted, don't blame me!"
I didn't pay any attention. I tried my arms again, and they reached
out all right. It was a good job of taping.
She pushed me away and stood up. "Careful of your ribs, mister,"
she warned. "Come on, you don't belong in here anyway—this is the
women's side."
I hunched myself into my jacket and followed her through the door
and down a short passage which led into a sort of utility room in the
midsection of the blister. One end was taken up with shelves and
cases of food and other supplies, a diatherm cooker, distillation unit,
mess table and the like; at the other, to the sides of the air lock,
were two or three desks with books and papers. One of the desks
held a periscreen which reflected the star-speckled black of space
and a small bright ball which was the distant sun. A row of thick
glass portholes at each end of the room let in a fair amount of light.
Out in the center of the floor were several chairs which looked
almost comfortable, and a large table with a ping-pong net on it.
The thought of trying to predict the behavior of a ping-pong ball
under gravity of point-o-two or thereabouts made me dizzy again.
I sat down in the easiest-looking chair and Betty took a seat
opposite me. The solemn look was on her face again.
"I should have mentioned it before," she apologized, "but I am glad
to see you, Tom. And amazed, of course. What happened to your
job at Translunar?"
"Translunar doesn't like me any more. I took the prize money to fit
out the Aspera and sneered at the job."
"Oh, Tom!" I liked the way she said it this time. "Then you are free-
lancing?"
"Free is the word for it. The list they put me on is black as the night
side of Pluto. No outfit in space would hire me for a swamper after
this. And you can't space-rat without a ship to rat in. As a matter of
fact, I have a great future behind me. All because I had a great
idea."
"What was the idea, Tom? I know you didn't come all the way out
here just to talk to me."
"Well, it would have been worth it, but that wasn't it. I was on my
way to Jupiter to prove once and for all that there isn't any Warp
and that there are pirates on Callisto. Then I broke down a few
hours out of Mars, with too much velocity to get back on the
chemicals. After a while you came along, and I saw the camp, and
managed to set her down. I didn't know this was your rock."
"You have the craziest ideas, Tom!"
"All right, let it go. I'm done with crazy ideas. The wildest one I have
at the moment is to talk your uncle into thinking that I can earn my
keep here and a passage back to Earth."
"Good—and I'll talk him into not sending you back with the Patrol."
"The Patrol?"
"Yes—our time here is half gone, and they are due any day to pick
up our data and preliminary report. They're overdue right now, as a
matter of fact. I thought you were the Patrol cruiser at first. Our
figures are hardly worth coming after, unless they've got some good
readings on Thule."
I had stopped listening. Patrol regulations make the rescue of
distressed spacemen mandatory. They would take me to Earth and
turn me loose with a hundred credits bonus, and I could look for a
job as a shoe salesman. Or write my memoirs. The Tale of a
Disappointed Space Hound. That ought to sell. Back to Earth. I
wasn't happy about it. I had crossed four hundred million miles of
space to find Betty and I wanted to stay.
I looked at her. She crinkled her nose at me and stood up. "Come
on, Tom, don't look so glum. How about something to eat? If you're
not hungry I am."
She crossed to the galley end of the room and I followed. Cooking
was simple—stick a couple of cans in the diatherm and wait until the
signal beeped. It tasted better than what I had had on the Aspera,
though. I told her so, and Betty laughed. Then suddenly she jumped
to her feet.
"Look, on the screen, Tom!" She pointed. There was a bright streak
half filling the field of the periscope. Betty hurried across the room
and I got up as quickly as I could and followed her.
"It must be the Patrol ship!" she cried. "They will have letters
aboard, and newspapers!" She was practically dancing with
excitement. I wasn't so happy.
We watched her come in. She was a small ship, not much larger
than the Aspera, but it was a spectacular sight at that. An atom-jet
blast in space is quite a blaze of glory.
They had a sharp lad at the controls. He had to be—I could tell from
the shape and color of the blast that the emission was soft as a raw
egg. He must have had twenty percent fluctuation. That was queer
—you'd think the Patrol would have brains and money enough to put
in a new power slug when it was needed. That one could go dead
any time. But the pilot was good. He set down easy, right in the
center of the scorch.
As soon as she was down the hatch swung open and half a dozen
men in bulgers stepped out and floated to the ground. Betty had the
outer air lock door open for them already. They crossed the ground
quickly, in the long leaps of men accustomed to low gravity.
I noticed suddenly that the palms of my hands were damp. That
made me wonder. It wasn't so much that I was scared by the idea of
going back to Earth with the Patrol. Something was wrong with the
set-up somewhere, and I couldn't place it. Then it hit me. That ship
out there was no Patrol cruiser—she was the Astra! My father's ship!
It had been years ago and I was just a kid at the time, but there
was no chance of a mistake—I had practically lived aboard that
wagon all the while she was on the ways. That meant my father had
found the hideout on Callisto again, and hadn't got away this time.
The Astra had been captured and converted to a pirate ship. As for
my father, there was no doubt now about what had happened to
him. Lance Denby would never have been taken alive.
These six men crossing the ground toward us were a bunch of
Hassley's cutthroats.
"Betty!" I yelled. "Shut the lock quick!"
She threw me a startled look, but sprang to obey. It was too late.
"Shut the lock!" I yelled—but it was too late.
IV
They were in. All big monkeys with their helmets peeled back, and
every one with a blaster in his hand you could put your thumb in.
They came in fast and fanned out to cover the room in a way that
showed they knew their business, and the muzzles of their weapons
never wavered an inch. I looked at Betty. She was quite pale. It
didn't matter about the lock. We couldn't have kept them out
anyway.
I didn't have a chance to tell her so. The boss of the show spoke.
"Over against the wall," he said. Quietly, but we went. It was that
kind of voice. There was no tone to it, and not much volume. It
reminded me of the noise we used to make by rubbing rocks
together under water when we were kids. He grinned, exposing
thirty or forty grayish teeth shaped like old-fashioned tombstones.
His whole face was grayish and stony, with heavy brows and a thick
jaw. The 20 cm blaster in his hand looked like a water pistol. I might
have called it a slight case of acromegaly, but I was not interested in
diagnosis at the moment. I was busy getting mad. That was easy
enough with such a subject, but I didn't see what I was going to do
about it.
He followed us over to the wall, walking slowly, not cautiously, but as
if he knew there was no need to hurry.
"Where's the rest of the crew?" he asked. He looked at me.
"That's all there is," I said. "There isn't any more." I didn't see any
use in lying to him, but I didn't see any use in telling him the truth,
and I would sooner lie to him than not. That's the way I felt about it.
"Wise, huh?" he said. His expression didn't change. He didn't have
any expression.
He turned to Betty. "Where's the rest of the crew?"
"There aren't any more. There's just the two of us." Good girl. She
was going to back my play. If I had any play. I was trying, but
looking at that face slowed my mind down into first gear.
Back to me again. "Where's your ship?"
"Ship?" I asked. The innocent line. "We don't have a ship."
He looked toward the rest of his gang. Two of them came up
alongside of me and grabbed my elbows.
"Do you hear that?" he complained. "They don't have any ship. They
walked all the way out here." He moved in close to me. His face
wasn't really rock or I could have seen the moss on it.
"Look, chum," he said. "Do you have to get wise? This ain't no game
of marbles. I'm telling you."
"Take it or leave it," I cracked. "What would we want with a ship?
They bring us out here and leave us, and a year later they come
back to get us and drop off the new crew." It sounded like a good
way to run an asteroid station at that.
He cursed. It had a horrible sound, in that muted rocky voice of his.
He faced Betty again. "That true?"
"Of course it's true!" The contempt in her voice would have withered
him, only stones don't wither.
I still couldn't see where we were getting. Hold him here until the
Patrol cruiser came in? That wouldn't work. If the Patrol boat came
in first they would think the Astra was the expedition ship, and Ed
Day would think it was the Patrol. And Stoneface here would sit back
just like a hunter in a duck blind and wait for an easy shot. If we
could figure out some way to signal. Come on, Denby, think it out.
There's an answer to everything.
He was talking again. "How long have you been here?"
"Six months."
"When's that ship due?"
"In six months more."
"How long?" This was to Betty.
"Five months and twenty-three days, to be exact," she told him.
"Earth time."
He cursed again. I was sweating. The way Betty was following my
lead, she must think I had a plan. Maybe I did, at that. It was pretty
hazy, but the way Stony kept worrying about a ship made me think.
That, and the wobbly jet I had seen.
"Six months, huh?" he mused. "Well, we can wait. It won't be bad.
Not with the company we'll have." He put one of his big shovel-
shaped hands on Betty. "No, not bad at all."
I jerked one elbow loose and swung at his jaw. I might have done
better if it hadn't been for the ribs, but as it was I felt it all the way
up to my shoulder. His head snapped back but his feet never moved.
The two gunsels grabbed my hands and twisted them up under my
shoulder blades.
Old Stony stood for a minute rubbing his jaw and looking at me. Just
looking. It was a look like you might see in the eye of a snake. Then
he hit me in the cheek with the flat of his hand. It wasn't a slap. I
tasted blood. He swung his foot at my ankles, and I hit the floor. He
swung it again. I felt another rib let go.
"Pick him up," he said. "Tie him in that chair." His boys did as they
were told.
He came and stood in front of me. "I told you this wasn't no game of
marbles. Now look, chum. You're going to be a good boy and keep
your trap shut and do like I tell you or I'm going to take you apart.
That's going to be fun, too, only not for you." I didn't say anything.
Stoneface ground around on his heel and began grating out orders.
"Slats and Joker, you tie up the girl till I decide what to do with her.
Tubby, see what they've got to eat in this shack. Trigger—back to
the ship and tell the boys we'll relieve them in an hour and they're to
keep their eyes open in the meantime. Bring back a couple of bottles
of juice with you. Karns, you keep a rod on this monkey in case he
didn't understand what I told him."
In a few minutes they were all sitting around the mess table washing
down about a week's supply of Expedition rations with raw juice.
When they had finished Stony belched vigorously, stood up, and
walked over to look out of one of the portholes. I followed him with
my eyes, and was surprised to see that it was night outside. I hadn't
realized how short these six-hour days would be. Stony began
talking again.
"Slats, you and Karns get back to the ship and let the other boys
come over here and stretch their legs and get some chow. After that
we all got to get busy and ditch the ship and set up the artillery on
the ground to get ready for that Patrol boat when it shows up. Me, I
got some other business on hand."
He walked over to Betty and picked her up under one arm, chair and
all.
"Put the girl down!" I told him.
He set her down on the deck again and came at me, balling up one
of his cobblestone fists. "I said I was going to take you apart if you
didn't act nice," he snarled. "Well, here goes!"
"Wait a minute," I said. "I know what you want and I know where to
get it."
That stopped him. "What do you mean?" he growled.
"I mean a new power slug. I saw how sloppy your jet was when you
came in. You haven't got one G-hour left. You might take off from a
little rock like this, but you'd never make Venus again and you know
it. That's why you're willing to wait around here for six months on
the slim chance of being able to shoot down a Patrol cruiser and
salvage a slug out of it."
He blinked when I mentioned Venus, but I didn't let him see I
noticed it. My mind was beginning to click now. This wasn't the way
I would have preferred to handle the matter, but I didn't see
anything else to do.
Stony ground his teeth at me. "Well?"
"I know where you can get a new slug just for picking it up."
One of his hands reached out and wrapped around my neck, and he
started shaking. "Where is it then!" he gritted. "Out with it!"
"I didn't say I was going to tell you," I reminded him, as soon as I
started breathing again. "I'm willing to talk about it, though."
"I'm listening. But talk fast, chum."
"Cut the girl loose, and me too."
Stoneface waved a command, and in a moment we were rubbing the
circulation back into our wrists. Betty wasn't looking at me.
"Here's my proposition," I said. "I'll trade you the slug for the girl.
You give her a suit with full tanks and rations and turn her loose
now. That will give her enough head start so you won't be able to
find her. Then in the morning I'll show you where this slug is, and as
soon as you get it you take off and we'll all be happy. That saves you
a six months' wait and a fight with the Patrol."
"Tom!" Betty broke out. "You're not going to let these apes get
away!"
"Sorry, Betty. It's the only way."
"Oh, you—!" She stamped her foot. She was crying. I couldn't blame
her for being mad. She was not the kind to stop fighting anywhere
this side of the last ditch. Well, for me it was the last ditch when he
put his hand on her.
"Can the chatter, you two," Stony gritted. "Look, how do I even
know you got a slug?"
"You don't," I agreed. "That's the chance you take."
"Yeah. And you know the chance you're taking if you don't
produce?"
"I can imagine," I assured him.
"Okay," he decided. "I'll play. But I'm warning you, chum, if you're
trying to run a bluff—you'll be sorry!" He turned to Betty. "Come on,
babe, climb into your rubber pants and scram!"
Betty didn't even glance in my direction while she was putting on her
space-suit. She gave me one look as she went out through the air
lock, and one was enough. It was pure poison.
I was glad before morning that the nights on Vesta were only six
hours long. Soon after Betty left, a couple of Stony's gorillas went
over to the ship and sent back the two that had been left on watch.
The new ones weren't any prettier to look at, and they scoffed up
just as big a share of rations as the others had, and with even less
manners, if possible. After that one of them got out a deck of
mouldy-looking cards, and the whole crew sat down to a game of
poker.
They had me tied down on the chair again by this time, and after
the second bottle of juice had been around once or twice they hit on
the quaint idea of using me for stakes. Each winner of a pot was to
have the right to choose which portion of my anatomy he would
separate from the rest of me by force and violence in case I didn't
come through with the power slug in the morning.
By the time they had reached the stage of marking out their
respective territories with chalk, Stony made them quit. He told
them that when he got through with me there wouldn't be enough
left for them to argue about.
My ribs weren't doing me any good, either....
Someone was cuffing me on the head. I opened my eyes and it was
a bright day.
"On your feet," Stony gritted. "You and me have got a date for a
little game of truth or consequences. Remember?"
I staggered up and scrubbed some of the fatigue out of my face
with my hands. Someone shoved a bulger at me. I saw that it was
mine, and the tanks and ration kits were full. I crawled in and
clamped down the fishbowl.
I led the way into the lock, with Stony and several of his lads at my
heels. In a minute the lock clicked and I opened the door and
stepped outside. The sun was only a couple of degrees high and the
long shadows of the blister and the ship lay sharp and dark across
the gray-white terrain. The stars burned against the black sky, very
remote and indifferent. I tried to swallow the dryness in my mouth
and throat, but it wouldn't go down.
A nudge from the muzzle of a blaster brought me back to the
business in hand. I set off across the rocks, taking it as easy as I
could without making my convoy too impatient. I headed straight for
the Aspera. No need stalling now. Either Betty had had time to hide
herself by now or it didn't matter.
When we pulled up at the scene of the wreck and I pointed to the
pile of boulders and gravel that hid the remains of the ship, I
thought Stony was going to share me out among his men without
stopping to argue. I managed to show him a corner of bent hull
plate sticking out of the rubble just in time. He put the boys to work
tossing rocks.
It took a long time. I had counted on that. By the time the air lock
was clear the sun was half-way down the sky again. Jockeying the
slug out of the reaction chamber and getting it into its lead case was
slow work, too. While it was going on Stony and I waited in the
cabin, along with Karns. It seemed the boss fancied him as a gun-
pointer.
I had a hard time to manage to retrieve my hand sextant from the
corner where it had fallen without attracting their attention, but I
made it. I stuffed it into my possum pouch and nobody made any
objection.
Except for that, Stony had played it smart all along. The only other
mistake he made was at the end, when his gang came back into the
cabin with the slug all snugged down in its shield. He let me crawl
out first. It was black dark outside by now, and I jumped without
even waiting to get to my feet. And this time I kept on jumping.
They didn't spend much time trying to find me. I was out of range of
their headlights in two leaps, and why would Stony think it made
any difference to have me floating in the dark, with no weapons? Of
course he would have blasted me down before he took off if I had
been on hand—I wasn't fooling myself about that—but he had too
good a head for the main chance to waste time on such a minor
pleasure. The way he had it figured, Betty and I would both be dead
long before another ship touched Vesta, and even if we weren't, we
would say we were raided by Venusian pirates, and he would be
long gone.
They headed straight back to the ship, and Stony put as many of his
crew as weren't needed for changing slugs to looting the blister. I
could see their lights going back and forth for an hour, and then they
all crawled into the ship and buttoned down.
I figured they wouldn't leave the blister standing, and I was right.
One HE shell took care of that. Then they blasted off. I had my
sextant and watch on them, and was writing down data on my knee-
pad as fast as I could take them. I was using Altair and Vega for a
fix, and throwing in Polaris every now and then for good measure. I
kept it up most of the night. Their jet-flare winked out suddenly just
before I lost them over the horizon.
After that there was nothing to do but go back to where the blister
used to be and wait.
Betty came in just after the sun lifted over the horizon. She wouldn't
let me get close enough to touch helmets so that I could explain. I
gave up after a few attempts and we just sat.
It was a long wait. I rummaged around in the debris and rigged up
some fair-sized sheets of dural to keep off the sun—one for me and
one for Betty. At least she was willing to use it. After a while I poked
around some more and found a copy of Spatial Navigation Tables
that wasn't completely reduced to confetti, and started trying to
work up my figures.
About noon the next day, Vesta time, we picked up the jet-flare of a
ship breaking in. She came in fast, under about three G's of
acceleration. That looked like Patrol style to me, and sure enough, as
soon as the dust settled I could see the blue star on her nose. That
was good. I was afraid it might be the expedition ship coming back,
and guns were indicated for the next hand in this game.
We didn't even wait for them to get out the ladder. Betty leaped for
the port as soon as they cracked the hatch, and I was right after her.
I slammed the hatch shut and motioned the landing party back
inside. The shavetail in charge wasn't happy about it, but I didn't
give him a chance to object. In a minute he got the idea that I
meant business, and opened the inner door.
I peeled back my helmet. "Where's the CO?"
"Right here!" said a voice at my elbow. I turned and looked. He was
only medium-sized, but he had a hard jaw and a hard eye. "What's
going on here?"
"Plenty is going on!" This was Betty. "Pirates took over the
expedition base, and this man gave them a power slug to make their
getaway."
"Shut up!" I told her. "Let me tell this so it makes sense."
"Makes sense! Does it make sense to let those thugs off scot-free,
with eighteen hours head start? We'll never catch them!"
"Yes we will. And besides, if I'd let them stay, they would have
blasted this ship out of the sky. And besides that, I had to give them
something to let you loose—"
"Suppose you both shut up," the CO suggested, "and come up to the
bridge and let me have the straight of this."
The three of us went into the control cabin which was unoccupied at
the moment. The CO motioned us to chairs. We peeled off our
bulgers and sat down.
"Now—Miss Day, I believe? I'm Allison, Commander, in charge. Let's
have your version."
Betty gave him the story of all that had happened since I landed on
Vesta, and enough of the background to make the story clear as far
as she knew it. Allison buzzed for the medical officer when she got
to the part about my ribs, and I was untaped and taped again. I was
glad enough by now to have someone else worrying about them for
awhile besides me.
Aside from that he made no comment until Betty had finished. Then
he turned on me, and his eye was harder than ever.
"Well, Denby? I realize that you're not sworn in as a Patrolman, and
I suppose you thought you were acting chivalrously. But it's rather a
tradition that all spacemen consider themselves unofficial deputies of
the Patrol when the occasion arises, and it seems to me that even a
civilian might have kept his mouth shut about that slug. As for their
shooting us out of the sky, we would have something to say about
that. We know how to operate against land batteries."
"I don't doubt that," I assured him. "But I think you'll agree that a
ship in space with no drive is an easier set-up."
"No drive? What do you mean?"
"Just that. Stony and his boys are sitting out in space with a blown
tube waiting for you to come along and pick them up. If you want to
know exactly where, give these figures to your navigator and let him
finish them on the computer. I've got a fix on them for every ten
minutes from blastoff to the time their main drive tube blew four
hours and forty-three minutes later."
"How do you know their tube blew? I never heard of such a thing."
"Brother, I did! And if you don't know how fast a Group IV slug can
chew the guts out of a graphite liner, just ask me. But those lads
didn't know. When they left Earth at the end of the Polar War, Group
IV fissionables weren't heard of, nor tungsil. When I gave them the
Group IV slug that the ground crew gave me by mistake on Phobos,
they didn't know the difference."
I looked at Betty, and so help me, she was crying again.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I couldn't tell you what the score was before
without tipping them off."
She came over and took hold of my hand. She didn't say anything,
but then she didn't need to.
Allison was pushing buttons like mad, and the bridge began to look
like a sub-sea train at rush hour. When the navigator came in the CO
handed him my notes.
"Figure an interception orbit from these observations. Blastoff in
twenty minutes.
"Here, sergeant, take a detail and lay out a signal panel for the Day
Expedition when they return, and this message to tell them what
happened and where we've gone. Quigley! (this was the exec, I
gathered) all hands to space stations—blastoff at once.
"Denby, I think you and Miss Day had better come along with us. I
imagine you've both had enough of bulgers for a while, and I think
you might like to be in on the end of this. Right?"
I pushed some of Betty's hair out of my eyes and looked up.
"Right!" I said. "I have a personal matter to settle with Stoneface.
And anyway, I want to be along to see you don't shoot up Astra too
bad. She was Lance Denby's ship, you know, and she's mine now,
and I'm going to need her if I'm going to be the first space-rat on
the ground in the moons of Jupiter."
Allison goggled at this, but made a quick recovery. "Okay, Denby.
And you know there's a reward out for Hassley or any of his group. I
think that will take care of any repairs."
The navigator came back from the computer and handed Allison a
sheet of paper. "Here's your course, sir. Quickest interception in
thirty-three hours. They were headed for Jupiter, all right."
"There goes your Warp," I gloated.
"Looks like it," Allison agreed. "Here, have a cigarette."
I took it and lit up. It was quabba, and it tasted great.
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