Janus waved it away. "Oh, well, it can wait. We'll get it later." He
came around the desk, thrust out his hand. "Welcome aboard, Travers!
You're one of us."
Mark suddenly knew that Janus knew his secret ... but somehow he wasn't
worried. He wondered if any of the others had noticed the by-play;
moreover, he wondered what being "one of them" meant....
He was soon to know. At that moment a voice sliced through the radio.
"Callisto calling! Earth-Station Six on Callisto! We have had you in
our beam for the past twenty minutes. You are out of bounds and you
display no insignia. As this is a violation of the Space-Code, you will
go into a drift immediately and await the Patrollers who will escort
you to Callisto for investigation! Refusal to obey constitutes outlawry
against the Federation, and the Patrol will act accordingly!"
The men weren't startled. If anything they were amused. The one named
Dethman simply straightened away from the radio and his hard, square
face broke into a grin.
"Think of it, men, we're being outlawed! Now ain't that one for the
books?"
The face of Ral Kaarj, the Martian, was blank and leathery. His
heavy-lidded eyes blinked once or twice, but only his incongruously
high-pitched voice revealed his emotions.
"Tri-Planet Federation!" he shrilled. "Out of bounds! By the red tails
of all the Oogs on Venus, ain't anyone supposed to venture beyond the
asteroids?"
"Not without sanction of those gray-beards in the Council," Janus said,
"and the Earth Corporations who are the real power. You know how they
try to squelch men like us, free-footers who won't play ball with 'em."
He flicked open the communicator to Brownell in the control room. "How
about it, Prof? Get that message?"
"Yes," Mark heard a voice reply. "All right, we'll go into a drift. Let
the Patrollers come, we'll give 'em a show!"
"Right! Need any help?"
"No, but keep the communicator open. And take a look in the V-panel if
you want." Brownell actually seemed pleased!
Janus clicked on the visipanel, turned the magnifying dials. Callisto
was seen in the swimming blackness of space with the huge bulk of
Jupiter as a backdrop. Under Janus' sure fingers the scene expanded,
came nearer.
Minutes passed; then they saw six Patrollers speeding out to meet them.
Brownell had cut rockets and they were in a drift now, waiting.
Waiting for what, Mark wondered. These Patrollers were speedy ships
and deadly, equipped with atomo-bombs, dis-rays and magnetic beams! He
shifted nervously.
The Patrollers came very near. Then they broke formation, arraying
themselves three on each side of the outlaw ship. Magnetic beams, pale
green and swirling, reached out to touch the hull. They fastened there
tenaciously. In this manner they began the route back to Callisto.
Even Janus seemed a little worried now. He turned to the communicator.
"How about it, Professor? Those beams are powerful? Think you can slip
out?"
"Wait and see; I promised a show, didn't I? Tell you what, though,
better break out the acceleration harness!"
* * * * *
These were suits within suits, double layers of tough plasticoid. Mark
stepped into his, opened the pressure valve that forced air between the
two thicknesses. The outer one ballooned, giving a grotesque, roly-poly
appearance. He bounced hard against the wall to test it.
"Better open them full," Janus advised.
They were ready. They stood against the far wall and watched the screen
across the room. Callisto was looming. They'd soon be within its
gravity.
Ferris, standing beside Mark, said in a low voice: "What kind of a
news-man are you, Travers? Y'oughta be getting pictures of this. Make
swell release stuff when you get back to Earth." His tone was mocking.
Mark felt a growing dislike of this man. He suppressed a retort, said
curtly instead: "Too late now." He had placed his "camera" safely in
an inside pocket.
The Patrollers' magnetic beams still towed them along at terrific
speed, setting up a slight vibration in the walls.
Suddenly there was a new kind of vibration. Mark didn't know what it
was. Certainly not rocket tubes.
"Get set!" Janus warned.
Someone muttered: "If he slips out of six magnetic beams--" but that
was all. A fierce surge came beneath their feet, and Callisto seemed to
leap at them. Within seconds a ghastly nausea gripped their insides.
The ballooning suits were pressed so flat against the wall it became
impossible to breathe! Their hearts pumped sluggishly, and a gray veil
began to form before their eyes....
These were men so accustomed to hardships that space-acceleration meant
nothing, but now they were experiencing something new in acceleration.
They felt as if their entrails were being compressed into atoms!
Mark could barely see the screen now. The way Callisto was rushing at
them he felt sure the planet was going to blank them out. He tried
to shut his eyes, but even his eyelids wouldn't move! Then Callisto
slipped off the screen, and Mark knew they must have made a sharp
parabola. Two of the Patrollers were glimpsed far behind, reaching out
futilely with dis-rays.
Even as he struggled for breath, Mark wanted to laugh; but the desire
left him suddenly as the tremendous bulk of Jupiter loomed. If they
escaped that gravity--
And they did. They came close, but their parabola tightened, then they
were pulling away. Speed remained constant as Jupiter faded. Mark could
breathe again but he ached through every inch of his body. He could
only think wearily.
This, he thought--this meant they must have accelerated to the sixth,
seventh or even eighth magnitude!