Spartan Planet - A. Bertram Chandler [9]
"But why did the penny drop?" persisted Johngrimes.
"Because you have brought evidence that there is more than one intelligent race in the universe. At first we thought that your Margaretlazenby was deformed—on this world, of course, he would have been exposed immediately after birth—and then you told us that you have a mixed crew."
The Commander stared at Diomedes incredulously. He said at last, "Of course, it has been said more than once, not altogether in jest, that they aren't really human . . . But tell me, Captain Diomedes, do you actually mean what I think you mean? Haven't you anybody like her on your Planet?"
"Like what, Lieutenant Commander?"
"Like her. Like Doctor Lazenby."
"Of course not. We are all human here. As we should be, Sparta being the birthplace of the human race."
"You really mean that?"
"Of course," replied Diomedes.
But does he? wondered Brasidus, who had worked with the Security Captain before.
"And you have no . . .?" began the spaceman, then pulled himself up abruptly. Brasidus recognized the signs. Find out all you can, but give nothing away yourself.
"We have no what?" prompted Diomedes.
Johngrimes made a quick recovery. "No Immigration, no Customs, no Port Health?"
"I've already told you that, Lieutenant Commander. And I've already told you that you and your crew must remain confined to your ship."
"Then perhaps you would care to come aboard, Captain Diomedes, to talk things over."
"Not by myself—and not unarmed."
"You may bring one man with you," said Johngrimes slowly. "But both of you will leave your weapons this side of the barrier."
"We could board by force," said Diomedes.
"Could you? I think not. Seeker may be carrying out the Census, but she's still a frigate, with a frigate's armament. In a matter of seconds we could sweep this field—and the sky over the field—clear of life. This is not a threat, merely a statement of fact." The words carried conviction.
Diomedes hesitated. "Very well," he said at last. He looked up to the circling airships as though for reassurance, shook his head doubtfully. He addressed Cleon, "Port Master, please have your radioman inform the Flight Admiral of my movements." He turned to Brasidus, "Sergeant, you may come with me. Leave Leading Hoplite Hector in charge."
Brasidus got close enough to Diomedes so that he could speak in a low, urgent whisper. "But, sir, the standing orders . . . the passes, to be signed by a member of the Council . . ."
"And who do you think drew up those standing orders, Sergeant? I am Security." Diomedes unlocked the gate with a key from his belt pouch. "Come with me."
"Your weapons," reminded Johngrimes.
Diomedes sighed, unbuckled his belt with its two holstered pistols, passed it to one of the men. Brasidus followed suit. The Sergeant felt naked, far more so than when stripped for the dance or for field sports. He knew that he still retained one weapon in the use of which he was, as were all members of the police branch of the Army, superbly trained—his body. But he missed those smooth, polished wooden butts that fitted so snugly into his hands. Even a despised sword or spear would have been better than nothing.
Ahead of them, Johngrimes was walking briskly toward the open airlock door, toward the foot of the ramp. Diomedes and Brasidus followed. They could see, as they neared the vessel, that the odd excrescences on its skin were gun turrets, that from at least two of them slender barrels were trained upon them, following them, that from others heavier weapons tracked the circling airships.
Johngrimes was taking no chances.
Although he had been often enough on spaceport guard duties, this was the first time that Brasidus had been aboard a spaceship; usually it was only Diomedes who boarded visiting vessels. Mounting the ramp, the Sergeant