One Was Stubbron by L. Ron Hubbard Read Free Book Online

was in that ship?”
    â€œEnsign Pettigrew,” said the warrant dispatcher.
    â€œWhat?” cried Carpdyke. “Where is Lieutenant Morgan?”
    â€œSick bay,” said the warrant dispatcher. He had been scared for a moment but now he knew he was in the right. He was an old Navy man. An order was an order and he had the copy right there.
    â€œWhy did you let that man get away?”
    â€œSir,” said the warrant, “I seen your order not ten minutes back. We was to lend every assistance to Ensign Pettigrew. Well, we did!”
    Carpdyke was keeping upright by holding the edge of the signal rack. A million dollars’ worth of spacecraft, the life of a new officer— “But he … but that was just—” He caught hold of himself. “That order was intended to be seen by Morgan. The man was new.”
    â€œI got the duty,” said the warrant doggedly, “and I obeyed it.”
    Carpdyke went away from there with a complete panorama of a twelve-man court-martial board staring him unsympathetically in the eye. What had he sent that fool after? Rudey rays. Knowing less than nothing about the fiery character of luminous masses, an ensign would burn himself to bacon crispness the first one he ran through. No ensign, no ship, no further career for Carpdyke.
    He had no choice but to declare himself guilty. He went into the outer office of the admiral’s suite and looked sadly at the adjutant. “Is he in?”
    â€œSure, but—”
    Carpdyke went wearily by and breasted the barricades.
    Banning was rather fat, somewhat crotchety, and had a most wary eye upon his future. He had managed to live twenty-one years with the Navy without sullying his record and if he could keep one more clean he would be pleasantly selected up by his friends to some post as galactic commander with the rank of sixteen stars. Today he was musing upon his happy future, making thoughtful steeples with his fingers and watching his favorite cat dozing in the daylight which poured in.
    â€œSir,” said Carpdyke, remembering suddenly that he had forgotten his jacket and cap, “a new man, Pettigrew, just reported. An ensign. He was awful green and I sent him out with a funny order and Morgan is in sick bay today and his warrant obeyed the order and now Pettigrew and a million dollars’ worth of Number Thirty Starguide are on their way someplace to get fried. I am turning in my resignation and will hold myself—”
    Banning’s eyes went round as he attempted to digest these facts. Then he ordered a repeat and when it had been carefully told four or five times with details, he suddenly understood that sixteen stars might very well eclipse if such things were found to have happened on his base.
    â€œOrder up the cruisers! Send out ten destroyers! Man the warning net!” bawled Banning. And then he grabbed his cap and sprinted for the radio room.
    Carpdyke relayed the orders and within ten minutes, where peacefulness had reigned, great waves of motors began to beat and the ground quaked under the impact of emergency takeoff.
    The men were not quite clear on what they were to do or where they were to go. And it took Banning several minutes on the shortwave to convince four or five irate commanders, who objected to leaving so fast, that they were not about to repulse a rebel attack.
    Meanwhile a small, dark radioman was having no luck with Pettigrew. “Sir,” he said to Banning, “he can’t have any channels switched on. I’ve tried them all. And probably he’s outraced even the ion beams by this time. I don’t think—”
    â€œDon’t think!” cried Banning. “Don’t ever think! Stop that ship!”
    But nobody stopped that ship. For five standard days Banning’s guard fleet raked and combed the surrounding space and then, because they had left without proper provisions, began to return one by one, each with negative