THE MAGIC LABYRINTH

"Sir," John Byron said, "I think we've overlooked something. The marines are still a long way from having their rockets set up. If the enemy helicopter or launch should pursue the Gascon, they won't be in any danger from de Marbot's fire. And they might well see his men on the mountain path. Then they would know we're setting up an ambush."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam said reluctantly. "Okay. Tell His Lordship to come back until de Marbot is situated. No use his wasting power circling around."

"Yes, sir," Byron said. He spoke on the radio to Plunkett, then turned swiftly on Sam. "Only... the admiral is not properly referred to as His Lordship. He is the younger son of a peer, which legally makes him a commoner. And since his father was a baron, the lowest in the rank of peers, he does not even have an honorary title."

"I was being facetious," Sam Said. "Lord preserve me from British sticklers!"

The little Englishman looked as if he thought facetiousness had no place in the control room. He was probably right, Sam thought. But he had to kid around a little. It was the only way he could let off pressure. If he didn't, he'd blow his mental boiler sky-high. See the pretty pieces flying through the air. Those are Sam Clemens.

Byron was tough, unperturbed in any situation, as calm as a man who's sold his stock just before the market crashed.

The boat was still far out in the lake, though cutting at an angle toward the bank. Big black clouds were visible to the north. Smoke from the fires started by the fallen airplanes. There would be even more fires tomorrow—unless the rain quenched them. The locals certainly would have no love for either King John or himself. It was a good thing they were pacifists. Otherwise, they might be objecting violently when one of their grailstones was borrowed this evening by those whom they could only regard as killers and arsonists. The giant batacitor of the Not For Hire had to be recharged, even though it was far from empty, and the crew had to refill their grails. He did not think that the Rex would show during this time. It had the same needs.

Unless... unless John thought he could catch them sitting. It was possible he might try to do that. His motors had not used up all the energy stored; the Rex had not traveled all day. He could have many hours' electrical supply left.

No, John wouldn't attempt it. Not knowing that his enemy was radarless, he would think that the Rex would be detected the moment it showed its nose. And he'd have to cross three miles of lake to get to the Not For Hire. Before he could do that, the enormous hemispherical plate covering the grailstone could be swung aboard and stored and the boat well on its way to meet the Rex.

If only he had an aircraft left to tell him when John's boat was being recharged. If the Rex was co

But if he would think of that, why not charge on through and catch John with his royal pants down?

If only he knew the topography, the width of The River on the other side of the mountain. But Plunkett would get the data needed.

Byron said, "Would you like to bury the dead now, sir?"

33

"HEH?" SAM SAID. "On, YES, MIGHT AS WELL GET IT OVER WITH now. We won't have time later. Are there enough marines left for the burial squad?"

"Exactly forty-two, sir," Byron said with some satisfaction at having anticipated his captain.

"Good. That's enough to bury everybody, including themselves. In fact, we'd better just use three rifles. We need to conserve all the powder we can."

The services were short. The bodies were laid out on the stern of the flight deck, wrapped in cloths, weighted with stones. Half the crew was assembled; the rest stayed on duty.

"... for now we know that resurrection is possible, all having experienced its truth. Thus we consign your bodies to the deeps of The River in the hope that you will once again walk the face of this world or some other. For those who believe in God, may He bless you. So long!"

The rifle salute was given. One by one the bodies in fishskin bags were picked up and swung out into the air. Weighted with stones, they would sink to be eaten by the small and the big fish prowling, pressing, dark, thousands of feet below.

The Not For Hire put into the bank, and its anchors were dropped. Sam went ashore to face an intensely angry La Viro. The big dark hawk-faced man raged at the stupidity and cruelty of both parties. Sam listened stony-faced. This was no time for a wisecrack. But when La Viro demanded that he leave the area, Sam said, "There is no way to avoid this conflict. One of us must go down. Now, do I have your permission to use a grailstone?"

"No!" La Viro shouted. "No! You do not!"

"I am indeed sorry," Sam said. "But I am using one anyway. If you interfere, you and your people will be fired upon."

La Viro said nothing for a minute. Finally, his breathing became lighter and the redness faded from his skin. "Very well. We will not use force. You knew we wouldn't. All I can do is appeal to your humanity. That has failed. On your own head be the consequences."

"You don't understand," Sam said. "We have to get to the polar sea. Our mission is vital to this world. I can't explain why, but, believe me, it is."

He looked up at the sun. In an hour, it would touch the top of the western range.

At that moment, Herma

Goring turned and spoke in a trumpet voice. "You heard La Viro! We will go east and get away from this hellish conflict. Spread the word! Everybody east! Martin, you send up the signal balloon!"

Goring turned to Clemens.

"You can see now, or should be able to see, that I was right! I objected to the building of your boat because your purpose was evil! We weren't raised from the dead and put here to glorify ourselves or indulge in mindless sensuality, in hate, and in bloodshed! We..."

Sam turned away. Followed by Miller, Sam walked out on the floating dock and up the gangplank to the hurricane deck. Joe said, "Thon of a bitch, Tham. He really chewed you out."

"He's not even in the race," Sam said. "I've been.eaten out by the best. You should have heard my mother. Or my wife. They could give him a thousand-word start and catch up in ten seconds flat. Forget him. What does he know? I'm doing this for him and all the rest of those mealy-mouthed Chancers. For everybody, whether they deserve it or not."

"Huh? I alvayth thought you vath doing it for yourthelf."

"Sometimes you get too smart-alecky," Sam said. "You don't talk to the captain like that."

"I chutht call them am I thee them," Joe said. He was gri

John Byron spoke to them as they entered the control room.

"Sir, de Marbot reports that the launchers are set up."

"Good. Tell him to get back down to the launch. And tell Plunkett he can go ahead now."

The Gascon responded immediately, heading for the strait. The tiny figures of the marines were dimly visible against the blue-black stone and green-black algae as they walked down the ledge cut upon the mountain's face. They would be using their flashlights before they reached the bottom. The Post No Bills was cutting along the bank for the stone to the west. The noise of machinist's mates aluminum-welding supports across the shattered base of the pilothouse came to him. Torches flared bluely as men cut away the wreck of the steam machine gun in the bow. Others busied themselves with rockets and a tube-battery to be set up in place of the gun. A party worked furiously to replace the radar ante