Coran broke in roughly. "Does all this monkey talk mean I'm free?"
Harriman was maliciously official. "I'm afraid it does. But don't try anything funny. Hamlin, Nalson, I'm detailing you two to watch over Coran in shifts. Don't let him out of your sight, day or night. If he attempts to steal a lifeboat and escape, or makes the slightest untoward move to hinder the operation of the ship or molest anyone on board, shoot him—that's all. Since he has no room, he will share yours for the remainder of the voyage."
Hamlin got a key and released Coran from his manacles.
Jomian glanced at him with an odd expression. "If you don't mind, Coran, I'd like a word with you in private. If the captain has no objection."
Harriman was curious, but nodded. "Are you sure you'll be safe with him?"
Jomian smiled. "That's my worry. Send your men to my cabin in an hour. After twelve years in the Space Patrol, I'm used to handling bad boys."
Nine days out the Aphrodite ran into trouble.
Proximity alarms blared wildly. It was only a small asteroid, not more than a quarter of a mile in diameter, just a jagged piece of rock and fused metal. But it came out of a direct line with the sun, moving fast, and discipline had been dangerously lax on the Aphrodite after Harriman took over command.
At 9:05 ship time, there came the sound of a rending crash up forward, followed by a nauseating sense of shock and withering waves of motion energy transformed into heat. Fortunately, the collision was a glancing one, but enough. The Aphrodite was a shattered wreck. Her bow and the control room were carried away bodily, and only the spacetight bulkheads of the waist saved the passengers and crew from instant death.