World of Chance

In an instant Benteley was at the door of the cubicle, reaching for the heavy steel handle.

The door was sealed.

Back at the humming banks of machinery, he tore at relays, and there was a flashing pop as the main power cables shorted, sending up acrid fumes and bringing meters to zero. The door swung open, its lock now inoperative. Benteley raced down the hall towards Moore's central lab. On the way he crashed into a lounging Hill guard. Benteley knocked him down, grabbed his gun, turned the corner and plunged into the lab.

There he ended Herb Moore's existence as a living human being.

The effect on the Pellig body was instantaneous. It gave a convulsive leap, whirled and darted grotesquely, a crazed thing swooping aimlessly. All at once, as if Moore were putting some prearranged plan into operation, random motion ceased. The body moved in a purposeful circle and in a flash shot off for deep space.

On the screen, the Luna surface receded. It dwindled and became a ball, then a dot, then it was gone.

The lab doors burst open. Verrick and Eleanor Stevens entered quickly. "What did you do?" Verrick demanded hoarsely. "He's gone crazy. He's heading away from..."

He saw the lifeless body of Herb Moore.

"So that's it," he said softly.

Benteley got out of the lab—fast. Verrick didn't try to stop him; he stood staring at Moore's corpse, numbed with shock.

Down the ramp Benteley raced and plunged into the dark street. As a group of Chemie perso

"To Bremen!" Benteley gasped. He snapped his seat-straps into place and braced his neck against the take-off impact.

The small high-speed ship shot swiftly into the sky, and A.G. Chemie fell behind.

"Get me to the interplanetary flight base," Benteley ordered.

He wondered how much of his conversation with Wake-man had been picked up by the balance of the Corps. Whether he liked it or not, Luna was the only place that offered a chance of safety. All nine planets were now Hill-operated death traps: Verrick would never rest until he had paid him back. But there was no telling what reception he would get from the Directorate. He might be shot on sight as one of Verrick's agents, he might be regarded as Cartwright's saviour.

Where was the synthetic body going?

The flight field was ma

"Don't land here. Isn't there a military field near?"

"The Directorate maintains a small military repair field at Narvik. You want to go there? It's forbidden for non-military ships to set down in that area. I'll have to drop you over the side."

"That sounds like exactly what I want."

Leon Cartwright was fully awake when the Corpsman came ru

"Peter Wakeman is dead," the Corpsman said.

Cartwright got quickly to his feet. "Who killed him?"

"The assassin."

"Then he's here." Cartwright yanked out his hand weapon. "What kind of defence can we put up? How did he find me? What happened to the network at Batavia?"

Rita O'Neill entered the room, white-faced and panting. "The Corps broke down completely. Pellig forced his way to the i

Cartwright glanced at her, then back at the Corpsman. "What happened to your people?"

"Our strategy failed," the Corpsman said simply. "Verrick had some kind of deception. I think Wakeman had it analysed before he died."

"Wakeman's dead?" Rita asked in astonishment.

"Pellig got him," Cartwright explained. "That cuts us off from the Corps. We're completely on our own." He turned to the Corpsman. "Have you definitely located the assassin?"

"Our emergency network has collapsed. When Wake­man was killed we lost co

"If Pellig has got this far," Cartwright said thought­fully, "we haven't much chance of stopping him."

"Wakeman was handling it," Rita blazed savagely. "You can do much better. His brain was nothing compared with yours." As Cartwright produced a gun she continued: "You're going to defend yourself with that thing? That's all you're going to do?"

At that moment a Corpsman interrupted: "Mr. Cart­wright, a ship from Earth has landed. Major Shaeffer was abroad with the remaining Corpsmen. He's coming up the ramp now."

Cartwright fumbled in his coat pocket for cigarettes. "Strange," he said to Rita, "that Wakeman is dead, despite his careful pla

"I'm not sorry for him. I wish you'd do something instead of just standing there."

"There's not a lot left to do. If one man is determined to kill another there's not much that can be done to stop him."

"I think I liked you better when you were afraid.' Rita said bitterly. "At least I understood that."

"I'll make a concession," Cartwright said. "I'll sit facing the door." He settled gingerly on the edge of a table, his gun in his palm. "What does Pellig look like?" he asked the Corpsman.

"Young. Thin. Blond. No special characteristics."

"What kind of weapon is he using?"

"A thumb-gun. That's a heat beam principle."

"I want to recognize Pellig when I see him," Cartwright explained to Rita. "He may be the next person through that door."

The next person through the door was Major Shaeffer.

"I brought this man with me," Shaeffer said to Cart­wright, as he entered the room. "As you'll want to talk to him."

A dark, neatly-dressed man in his early thirties had entered slightly behind Shaeffer.

"This is Ted Benteley," Shaeffer said. "A serf of Reese Verrick's."

Benteley was sharp and tense, more on edge than they had first realized. "Shaeffer is incorrect," he said. "I'm not under oath to Verrick any longer. I've left him."

"You broke your oath?" Cartwright asked.

"He broke his oath to me. I left in a considerable hurry and came here direct from A.G. Chemie; there were com­plications."

"He killed Herb Moore," Shaeffer amplified.

"Not exactly," Benteley corrected. "I killed his body, his physical self."

He began to explain the situation. When he was half through Cartwright interrupted with a question: "Where's—well, I suppose we should still call it Pellig. When we last heard of him he was only a few miles from here."

"The Pellig body is on its way towards deep space," Benteley said. "Moore isn't interested in you any more; now he's got his own problems. When he realized he was stuck in the synthetic body he left Luna and headed straight out."

"Where to?" Cartwright asked.

"I don't know."

"It doesn't matter," Rita said impatiently. "He's not after you; that's what's important. Perhaps he became insane. Perhaps he's lost control of the body."

"I doubt it. Moore will keep struggling to the end; he's desperate and totally ruthless." Benteley described how Moore had destroyed Peter Wakeman.

"We're aware of that," Cartwright said. "What kind of velocity is the synthetic body capable of?"

"C-plus," Benteley answered. He was puzzled by the question. "Aren't you satisfied Moore is moving away from here?"

Cartwright licked his dry lips. "I know where he's going."

There was a murmur and then Shaeffer said: "Of course!" He rapidly sca

Benteley was astounded. "Preston alive!"