Kenniston went cold with dismay.
He told himself numbly that it was impossible Hugh
Murdock could have discovered the truth. But the
grim expression on Murdock’s face and the naked
hate in his eyes were explainable on no other grounds.
The young businessman’s finger
was tense on the trigger of the atom-pistol.
Resistance would be senseless. Mechanically, Kenniston
slipped from his bunk and threw on his slacks and space-jacket.
Holk Or was doing the same, the big Jovian’s
battered green face almost ludicrous in astonishment.
“Now perhaps you’ll tell
us what this means,” Kenniston said harshly,
his mind racing. “Have you lost your senses?”
“I’ve just come to them,
Kenniston,” rapped Murdock. “What
fools we all were, not to guess that you two belong
to Dark’s pirates!”
Kenniston’s lips tightened.
It was clear now that Murdock had actually discovered
something. From Holk Or came an angry roar.
“Devils of Pluto, I’m
no pirate!” the big Jovian lied magnificently.
“Whatever gave you this crazy idea?”
Murdock’s hard face did not
relax. He waved the atom-pistol. “Go
into the main cabin,” he ordered. “Walk
ahead of me.”
Helplessly, Kenniston and Holk Or
obeyed. His mind was desperate as he shouldered
down the corridor. The throbbing of the rockets
told him the Sunsprite was still forging through
the void. They must be very near Vesta by now and
now this had to happen!
The others had been awakened by the
uproar and streamed into the main cabin after Murdock
and his two prisoners. Kenniston glimpsed Gloria,
slim in a silken negligee, her dark eyes round with
amazement.
“Hugh, have you gone crazy?” she exclaimed
stupefiedly.
Murdock answered without looking toward
her. “I’ve found out the truth, Gloria.
These men belong to John Dark’s crew. They
were taking us into a trap.”
“Holy smoke!” gasped Robbie
Boone, his jaw sagging as the chubby youth stared
at Kenniston and Holk Or. “They’re
pirates?”
“I think you must be losing
your mind!” Gloria stormed at Hugh Murdock.
“This is ridiculous.”
Holk Or yawned elaborately. “Space-sickness
hits people in queer ways, Miss Loring,” the
Jovian told Gloria confidentially. “Some
it just makes sick, but others it makes delirious.”
“I’m not delirious, and
you two know it,” Murdock retorted grimly.
He spoke to Gloria and the others, without taking
his eyes or the muzzle of his pistol off his two captives.
“I thought from the first that
this Kenniston’s story of finding the wreck
of Dark’s ship on Vesta was a thin one,”
Murdock declared. “And yesterday my suspicions
were increased when I went down and looked over the
cargo of equipment they brought. It’s not
equipment to dig out a buried wreck. It’s
equipment to repair a damaged ship John
Dark’s ship!
“Suspecting that, last ‘night’
I sent a telaudiogram to Patrol headquarters at Earth.
I gave full descriptions of Kenniston and this Jovian
and inquired if they had criminal records. An
answer came through an hour ago. This fellow
Holk Or has a record of criminal piracy as long as
your arm, and was definitely known to be one of John
Dark’s crew!”
There was an incredulous gasp from
the others. Murdock still grimly watched Kenniston
and the Jovian as he concluded.
“The Patrol hasn’t yet
sent through Kenniston’s record, but it’s
obvious enough that he’s one of Dark’s
men too, and that his story that he and the Jovian
are meteor-miners is a flat lie.”
“I can’t understand this,”
muttered young Arthur Lanning, staring. “If
they’re Dark’s men, why should they induce
us to go to Vesta?”
“Can’t you see?”
said Hugh Murdock. “John Dark’s ship
did crash on Vesta after being wrecked that
must be true enough. But Dark and his pirates
weren’t dead as the Patrol thought. They
had to have machines and material to repair their
ship. So Dark sent these two men to Mars for
the materials. The two couldn’t get a ship
there any other way, so they made use of our cruiser
by selling us that treasure yarn!”
Kenniston winced. He knew now
that he had underestimated Murdock, who had put together
the evidence quickly when his suspicions were roused.
Gloria Loring, looking at Kenniston
with wide dark eyes, saw the change in his expression.
Into her white face came an incredulous loathing.
“Then it’s true,”
she whispered. “You did that you
deliberately planned to lead us all into capture?”
“Aw, you’re all space-struck,”
growled Holk Or, bluffing to the last.
Murdock spoke over his shoulder.
“Call Captain Walls, Robbie.”
“No need to here
he comes now!” yelped the excited youth.
Captain Walls, entering the cabin
in urgent haste, had eyes only for Kenniston in the
first moment.
“Ah, there you are, Mr. Kenniston!”
the captain exclaimed relievedly. “I was
just coming for you. We’ve reached Vesta!
I’ve ordered the pilot to slow down, for I want
you to pilot us through the swarm
The captain’s voice trailed
off. His eyes bulged as for the first time he
perceived that Murdock was covering the two men with
a gun.
Were not going in to Vesta, captain, rapped Murdock.
John Dark and his pirates are on the asteroid alive!”
Captain Walls’ plump face went
waxy as he heard the name of the most dreaded corsair
of the System.
“Dark living?”
he stuttered. “Good God, you must be joking!”
Mrs. Milsom, her dumpy figure shivering
and her teeth chattering with terror, pointed a finger
at Kenniston and the Jovian.
“They’re two of the pirates!”
she shrilled. “They might have murdered
us all in our beds! I knew this would happen when
we left Earth
Kenniston’s mind was seething
with despair as he stood there with hands upraised.
His whole desperate plan was ruined at this last moment.
He wouldn’t let it be
ruined! He would get this cargo of machines and
materials to John Dark if it meant his life!
“Turn back at once toward Mars,
captain,” Gloria was saying quietly to the stunned
officer. Her face was still very pale.
Kenniston, standing tense, had had
an idea. A desperate chance to make a break,
in the face of Murdock’s atom-gun.
The captain had said that he had just
ordered the pilot to slow down the Sunsprite. In a moment would
come the shock of the braking rocket-tubes firing from the bows
That shock came an instant after the
wild expedient flashed across Kenniston’s mind.
It was only a jarring vibration through the fabric
of the ship, for the pilot knew his business.
It staggered them all on their feet,
for just a moment. But Kenniston had been waiting
for that moment. As Hugh Murdock moved his gun-arm
involuntarily to balance himself, Kenniston lunged
forward.
“The bridge, Holk!” he yelled as he hurled
himself.
Kenniston’s shoulder hit the
captain and sent him caroming into Murdock. The
two men sprawled on the floor.
Holk Or, with instant understanding,
already had the door of the cabin open. They
plunged out into the corridor together.
“Our only chance is to make
the bridge and grab the controls!” Kenniston
cried as they raced down the corridor. “We
can keep them long enough to land on Vesta
Hiss flash! The
crackling blast of the atom-gun tore into the lower
steps of the ladder up which he and the Jovian frantically
climbed. Murdock was running after them as he
fired, and there were shouts of alarm.
Kenniston and Holk Or burst into the
glassite-walled bridge. Bray, the pilot, turned
for a startled moment from his rocket-throttles.
Beyond the pilot, the transparent
front wall framed a square of black space in which
bulked the monstrous sphere of the nearby asteroid.
The World with a Thousand Moons!
It loomed up only a few hundred miles away, a big,
pale-green sphere encircled by the vast globular swarm
of hundreds on hundreds of gleaming little meteor-satellites.
“Why what ” stammered
the pilot, bewildered.
Kenniston’s fist caught his chin, and the man
sagged to the floor.
“Bar the door, Holk!”
yelled Kenniston as he leaped toward the rocket-throttles.
“Hell, there’s only a
catch!” swore the Jovian. He braced his
brawny shoulders against the metal door. “I
can hold it a little while.”
Kenniston’s hands were flashing
over the throttles. The Sunsprite was
moving at reduced speed toward the meteor-enclosed
asteroid.
The cruiser shook to the bursting
roar of power, as he opened up all the tail rockets.
It plunged visibly faster toward the deadly swarm
around Vesta, picking up speed by the minute.
Rocking, creaking, quivering to the
dangerous rate of acceleration Kenniston was maintaining,
the little ship rushed ahead. But now there was
loud hammering at the bridge-room door.
“Open up or we’ll burn
that door down!” came Captain Walls’ yell.
Kenniston didn’t turn.
Hunched over the throttles, peering tensely ahead,
he was tautly estimating speed and direction.
His eyes searched frantically for the periodic break
in the outer meteors.
There was a muffled crackling and
the smell of scorched metal flooded the bridge-room.
A hoarse exclamation of pain came from Holk Or.
“They got my arm through the
door, damn them!” cursed the Jovian. “Hurry,
Kenniston!”
Kenniston was driving the Sunsprite
full speed toward the whirling cloud of meteors around
the asteroid. He had spotted the break in the
cloud, the periodic opening caused by the gravitational
influence of another nearby asteroid.
It was not a real opening. It
was merely a small area in the swarm where the rushing
meteors were not so thick, and where a ship had a
chance to worm through by careful piloting.
Kenniston only remotely heard the
struggle that Holk Or was putting up to hold the door
against the hammering crowd outside. His mind
was wholly intent on the desperately ticklish piloting
at hand.
He cut speed and eased the Sunsprite
down into that thinner area of the meteor-swarm.
Space around them now seemed buzzing with rushing,
brilliant little moons.
The meteorometers had gone crazy,
blinking and buzzing unceasing warning, their needles
bobbing all over the direction-dials. Instruments
were useless here he had to work by sight
alone. He eased the cruiser lower through the
swarm, his fingers flashing over the throttles, using
quick bursts of the rockets to veer aside from the
bright, rushing meteors.
“Hurry!” yelled Holk Or
hoarsely again, over the tumult. “I can’t hold
them out much longer
Down and down went the Sunsprite
through the maze of meteor-moons, twisting, turning,
dropping ever lower toward the green asteroid.
A last gasping shout from Holk Or,
and the door crashed off its burned-through hinges.
Kenniston, unable to turn from the life-or-death business
of threading the swarm, heard the Jovian fighting
furiously.
Next moment a hand gripped Kenniston’s
shoulder and tore him away from the controls.
It was Murdock, his eyes blazing, his gun raised.
“Raise your hands or I’ll
kill you, Kenniston!” he cried.
“Let me go!” yelled Kenniston,
struggling to get back to the throttles. “You
fool!”
He had just glimpsed the jagged moonlet
rushing obliquely toward them from the left, bulking
suddenly big and monstrous.
Crash! The shock flung them
from their feet, and the Sunsprite gyrated
crazily in space. There was a blood-chilling shriek
of outrushing air from the fore part of the ship,
and the slam-slam-slam of the automatic air-doors
closing, down there.
The cruiser’s whole bows had
been crushed in by the glancing blow of the meteor.
Now, ironically, the ship was falling clear of the
meteor-swarm for Kenniston’s piloting had almost
won through it before the impact. But the Sunsprite
was falling helplessly, turning over and over as it
plunged down toward the green surface of the jungled
asteroid.
“My God, we’re struck!” came Captain
Walls’ thin yell.
“This is your fault!”
Murdock blazed at Kenniston. “You damned
pirates will die for this!”
“Let me at those controls or
we’ll all die together in five minutes!”
Kenniston cried. “We’ll crash to smithereens
unless I can make a tail-tube landing
Heedless of Murdock’s gun, he
jumped to the controls. His hands flew over the
throttles, firing desperate quick bursts of the tail
rocket-tubes to bring them out of the spin in which
they were falling.
The brake-rockets in the bow were
gone. The ship was crippled, almost impossible
to handle. And the dark green jungles of Vesta’s
surface were rushing upward with appalling speed.
Kenniston’s frantic efforts
brought the Sunsprite out of the spin.
By firing the lateral rockets, he kept it falling tail-downward.
“We’re goners!”
yelled someone in the stricken ship. “We’re
going to crash!”
Air was screaming outside the plummeting
ship. Kenniston, his hands superhumanly tense
on the throttles, mechanically estimated their distance
from the uprushing green jungles.
He glimpsed a little black lake in
the jungle, and near it the big circle of an electrified
stockade. He recognized it John Dark’s
camp!
Then, a thousand feet above the jungle,
Kenniston’s hands jerked open the throttles.
The tail rockets spouted fire downward.
Sickening shock of the sudden check
almost hurled him away from the controls. His
hands jabbed the throttles in and out with lightning
rapidity, checking their further fall with one quick
burst after another.
A sound of rending branches a
staggering sidewise shock that flung him from his
feet. A jarring thump, then silence. They
had landed.