The Full Circle Six by Edward T. Anthony Page B

bringing with it a very warm wave of energy. It was not powerful enough to call a tremor, but was certainly noticeable to everyone inside the racecraft. It grew to be more detectable to the crew when they all felt the number thirteen jar itself loose and begin to slide to the left, slowly at first, gradually increasing speed till it felt like they might have been back in the race. The movements of the craft were felt a great deal more than would have been if they had been flying through space. They slowed much more rapidly than they accelerated. It was all over in a matter of seconds, but on the inside, it felt like it could have been several minutes.
    Freddie, after everyone had gone back inside, had continued to pour his fuel around the perimeter of the racecraft. He was using more than primarily planned, but the extra work, he thought, would be worth it. Somehow, Freddie had gotten the idea that if he were able to rescue them all from this predicament. Priscilla would then have to see what a great guy he was and fall for him as hard as he had for her.
    The lack of wind on this ice-planet is the reason Freddie’s plan was as effective as it turned out to be. While the fuel had lain on the surface of the ice, the fumes had lingered around the area the entire time. When Freddie finally managed to get a spark from the device Drake had fastened to the shoulder pad of the pack’s strap, the fumes had collected enough to create a fireball that engulfed the ship. The actual fuel was still on the ice surface and soon it caught the flames and torched a circle of fire, melting away at the base all around the racecraft. This changed the surface of the planet to accommodate a makeshift slide of sorts just perfect for the size of the craft.
    At the ascent of the fireball, the startled Freddie screamed and fell to his knees with his arms crossed above his head, hands cradling his ears, eyes squeezed tightly closed. Hearing more than seeing the ship slide, Freddie’s eyes flew open and panic seized his heart. He was petrified with sheer terror. Freddie’s brain was screaming at him to get moving, but his response system was lost in the throes of perfect fear. Adrenaline pumped through his veins faster than his blood, or so it seemed to him. The crew was on that racecraft, and sir Frederick Stallworth may have just unconsciously committed mass homicide. Finally, he witnessed the transport slide to a halt and his paralysis broke as if he were snapping out of a trance. There might have even been a perceptible click when it happened.
    He jumped to his feet and sprinted, as well as he could in the space suit, toward his team and their recently dislodged racecraft. He was not coordinated by anyone’s standards, as Freddie kept slipping and falling to the ground, while flailing his arms spastically. Turning around the front of the craft, he was making his way to the loading zone in order to receive his congratulations for saving them all when, there appeared on the ground, in front of the door, a rectangle of light. Someone couldn’t wait, it seemed to Freddie to give him his dues, and they were coming out to meet him. His moment of self-righteousness was short lived, his smile faded and his posture drooped to a slouch. Fear worked its evil clutches into his brain once again. Drake Judge had marched out of the racecraft and was coming straight for him.
    Drake forcefully grasped the front of Freddie’s suit and literally threw him into the loading zone and supply area. Then he followed the flying Freddie, who landed heaped up like a pile of potatoes in a corner, close behind. Drake roughly snatched up his E.F.O. and screamed into his visor.
    â€œAre you trying to kill us all? What was that?” Drake looked more furious than Freddie had ever seen him.
    â€œSir, I had to try to get us out. Is everyone ok? It worked! I can’t believe it worked!” Freddie was lost in euphoria of daydreams in which Priscilla