The Big Black Mark - A. Bertram Chandler [91]
"I am sure, madam," said Delamere stiffly, "that the Federation will pay generous compensation."
"In Federation money, I s'pose," she sneered. "Wot bloody use will that be? Specially since we won't join your bloody Federation now, not for all the gold in the galaxy." She turned on Grimes. "An' as for you, you . . . you dingo! I thought you were a man. Wot a bloody hope! Not only do yer help this bastard ter murder my people, you're goin' ter stand back an' let yer own crew be dragged off ter be butchered."
"But, Mavis—"
"Gah! Yer make me sick!"
"Delamere," demanded Grimes, "have you done anything about the crash at the airport, and the other accidents?"
"When we got around to it, Grimes. Our first job was to round up the mutineers." He added smugly, "You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs, you know."
"There was no need to run amuck in the kitchen," said Grimes.
"Out!" yelled Mavis suddenly. "Out o' me palace, you Terry bastards! I've work to do!"
"So have we, madam," said Delamere. "A very good after noon to you. Come, Doctor. And you, Grimes."
"But, Mavis," Grimes began.
"Out! All o' yer. That includes you, lover boy!"
"You do have the oddest girlfriends," remarked Delamere as the three of them passed out through the front door.
Grimes did not reply. He was full of bitter self-reproach. He should have guessed that Delamere would have his own secret plans. He could have stopped Major Briggs from making that call. . . or could he? His name, he admitted wryly, was not Superman.
He followed the other two into the commandeered electric car that was waiting for them.
Chapter 43
They drove to the Oval, in the middle of which, an alien, menacing tower, stood Vega. They did not go straight to the ship but dismounted at the entrance to the sports ground. At the doors to the dressing rooms under the stands stood armed Marines and spacemen.
Delamere led the way to one of the doors, which was opened by a sentry. He sneered as he pointed to the scene inside, and said disgustedly, "What a rabble! I can't see how anybody could have ever sailed in the same ship with them!"
Yes, they were a rabble—as the crew of any ship would be if dragged naked and unconscious from their beds, to awake in captivity. The only ones clothed, in dirty, torn uniforms, were Swinton and his Marines. Swinton, followed by the huge Washington, pushed through the mob of his hapless shipmates. He stood there defiantly, glaring at Grimes and his companions. He demanded, "Have you come to gloat? Go on, damn you! Gloat to your heart's bloody content!"
"I haven't come to gloat," said Grimes.
"Then what the hell have you come for? But it's my fault. I should never have listened to Vinegar Nell and that puppy Tangye. We should have made sure of you while we had you."
"But you didn't," said Grimes. "Unluckily for you. Luckily for me."
"Grimes's famous luck!" sneered the Mad Major.
Vinegar Nell came slowly to stand beside the Marine. She had been conscious when she had been captured, and obviously had put up a fight. She looked steadily at Grimes.. She said, "So you made it, John. Am I glad, or sorry? I'm glad for you. Genuinely. As for me—" She shrugged. "Whatever I say will make no difference."
"Very touching," commented Delamere.
"Shut up!" snapped Grimes. He turned to face Brabham—who, like the majority of the prisoners, was without clothing. His ex-first lieutenant looked fit, far fitter than he had ever looked aboard Discovery. Life on Botany Bay had agreed with him.
"You win, Captain," he said glumly. Then he actually smiled. "But it was good while it lasted!"
"I'm sorry," said Grimes inadequately.
"Hearts and flowers," murmured Delamere.
"Captain," went on Brabham,