Sign of the Earthman
Dick Earle handed Rick a series of requisition forms. "We're running out
of parts. Take this to Warehouse Eight and get the requisitions filled.
The clerk will lend you a hand truck to bring the stuff back."
Rick found the warehouse, handed the forms to a clerk, and waited at the
counter for the supplies. The clerk moved from bin to bin, collecting
the variety of electronic parts. The pile in front of Rick grew.
The clerk returned the last two sheets and scanned them. "All
transistors. And not the cheap kind, either. Just a minute and I'll have
them for you." He vanished behind the tiers of shelves. Rick waited.
The wait grew longer and the boy fidgeted. Couldn't the clerk find them?
Rick hoped the base hadn't run out, because that would mean a delay on
his project. Already he thought of it as "his," and he was impatient as
any of the project staff to push the work to completion.
The clerk reappeared, a single carton and a sheet of paper in hand. The
man's face was white and his eyes looked as though they were about to
drop out. He grabbed the phone on the counter and dialed, missed because
his hand was shaking so, and dialed again. This time he got the number.
"Security? Is this security? Get over here, quick! Warehouse Eight.
Hurry! The Earthman has been here!"
Rick stared, popeyed. The Earthman! He asked quickly, "What happened?"
The clerk swallowed hard. Obviously he was scared stiff. "They were
empty," he said. "All of them. Empty! Honest! And in one I found this."
He handed Rick the scrap of paper he carried.
Rick smoothed it out on the counter and his pulse speeded. It was a good
sketch, done in ink, of a knight in full armor. Crushed under one mailed
foot was a rocket. The knight carried a shield, and emblazoned on it
were two words.
_Homo Terrestrialis._
The mark of the Earthman!
Hank Leeming, Rick's security officer roommate, and an older man he
identified as Colonel Tom Preston, Chief of Security, pulled up at the
door in a jeep and hurried inside.
Preston took over. "All right, Jimmy. What's this about the Earthman?"
The clerk silently handed him the slip of paper.
The Security Chief examined it. "His mark, all right. Where did you find
it?"
The clerk was still shaky, and he had a hard time putting his discovery
into words. Rick tried to help him out. "He found some cartons that were
empty. Transistor cartons, I guess. This was in one of them."
Preston's eyes fixed on him. "Who are you?"
"My name is Brant, sir. I'm with Pegasus."
Preston's eyes acknowledged Rick's name, but he turned to the clerk. "Is
that right, Jimmy? Transistors missing?"
Jimmy found his voice. "Yes, Colonel. At first I thought it was a
mistake--a few empties put back on the shelf by accident. But they were
all empty, sir. All of them! There isn't a transistor in the warehouse!"
Preston nodded. "Take over, Hank. Shake the place down. Get one of the
boys with a kit and check for fingerprints on the stacks and empty
cartons. Jimmy, come with me. We'll check your inventory with Pat
O'Connor."
Pat O'Connor was the base supply officer. Preston and the clerk
departed. Hank paused long enough to say, "Better take the stuff you
have, Rick. Looks as if you'll have to wait for the transistors."
Obviously there wasn't anything else to be done. Rick found a hand
truck, loaded on the supplies, and went back to his shed.
By dinnertime the base was one solid mass of rumor. Rick heard variously
that the Earthman had been found, that he had stolen an entire rocket
assembly, that the warehouse had been loaded with dynamite triggered to
explode, that he had killed the clerk, that the clerk had seen him just
before he flickered into invisibility, and so on.
He phoned Scotty and found that his pal was hearing equally wild rumors.
The boys set a time and place to meet, just outside the main project
building at five-thirty. Scotty was there when Rick arrived.
"John Gordon come out yet?" Rick asked.
Scotty shook his head. "Any news? I've got a million rumors more or
less, but nothing solid."
Rick told him in detail of the incident at the warehouse, and concluded,
"Beyond that I don't know a thing. But Gordon will probably know
something if we can catch him."
"We'll wait. We can pretend it's the first time we've seen him here and
talk for a few minutes about old times at Spindrift. That shouldn't make
anyone suspicious."
Rick agreed. It would be natural enough, and if anyone came within
earshot they could make the conversation sound harmless.
Scotty grinned. "How's your pal and special charge?" At least once a day
he kidded Rick about becoming nursemaid to a monkey.
"Fine," Rick replied. "He asks for you every day. After all, he knows
you're the only other ape on the base."
Scotty ignored the crack. "When do I get to see this beloved child of
yours?"
"Come on over to the project any time. He'd like to meet you."
"I'll do it, first time I can get away from those doggone trucks. Seems
like they break down every hour."
At that moment John Gordon came out of the project building. Rick, who
was facing the door, pretended surprise. "Aren't you Dr. Gordon," he
called.
The scientist turned and hesitated. "Yes. You're ... let's see ... you
were at Spindrift for a while. I'm afraid I don't remember your names."
Rick introduced himself and Scotty, for the benefit of a few men who
were passing by, en route to the mess hall.
"Ah, yes. I remember now. Going to eat? So am I. Come along and tell me
where you're working now. Obviously you're employed on the base, but on
what projects?"
They chatted idly as they walked slowly toward the mess hall. Then, when
no one was in earshot, Rick said swiftly, "I was at the warehouse when
the mark of the Earthman was found. Any developments we should know
about?"
Gordon answered softly, "Yes. Inventory showed nearly a quarter of a
million in transistors missing. Also, no one had called for transistors
in nearly three weeks."
"Isn't that unusual?" Scotty asked.
"Not particularly. Each project has its own stock-room. Since we're a
new base, the projects have been working from an initial supply."
"So the transistors may have been missing for some time?"
"They could have been missing since the last requisition, exactly
nineteen days ago. But they probably were stolen during the Viking
shoot."
"Is the warehouse guarded?"
"No. A clerk is on duty at all times when the warehouse is open. At
night it's locked. There was no sign of tampering, and anyway, the locks
are tamper-proof."
Scotty said warningly, "Company coming." Then, in a louder voice, he
continued, "Of course we worked for Dr. Zircon."
"Very capable man, Zircon," Gordon said, taking Scotty's cue. "We could
use him here. Any idea where he is now?"
"No, sir," Rick replied. "We haven't seen him since we left Spindrift."
At the door of the mess hall Gordon left them with a polite handshake,
explaining that he had to eat with someone else by previous arrangement.
During dinner Rick thought over the events of the day. But not until the
meal was ended and he and Scotty wandered on foot toward the edge of
camp could he put his idea into words.
"This business today puts a new light on the Earthman, Scotty."
"I read you loud and clear. A quarter of a million bucks makes a little
sabotage worth while, huh?"
Rick nodded. "We can't know, of course, but if you were a warehouse
clerk and a big rocket went haywire, wouldn't you be out watching it?"
"I'd be out where the view was best. So would you," Scotty replied.
"Remember where we saw a transistor recently?" Rick asked.
Scotty reached in his pocket, brought out his sling, and unwrapped it.
He picked up a stone, tested it for weight, then reconsidered and put
the sling back. "I remember. Big Mac and Pancho. Mac said he must have
stuck it in his pocket absent-mindedly while repairing his equipment."
"That's what he said," Rick agreed. "Only transistors aren't like radio
tubes. They don't need replacing often."
"Meaning?"
"He might have been telling the truth or he might not."
Scotty tossed the stone away. "How much space would that many
transistors take up?"
"Hard to say. We could find out, I suppose. But transistors are small,
and they don't weigh much. Besides, some of the types used here are
fantastically expensive. A couple of hundred dollars might pay for a
transistor the size of a kidney bean."
Scotty whistled. "They must be made of diamonds! Anyway, a quarter of a
million is a lot of money, and even at two hundred bucks each the
transistors would make quite a bundle. The Earthman would have to hide
them, and then get them off the base. And I'll tell you one thing: If
Big Mac stole them, he didn't take them off the base in his own car."
"How do you know?" Rick challenged.
"He's got a Porsche. There's about enough room in the luggage
compartment for a spare handkerchief."
"I'll buy it." Another idea hit him. "But he has some other
transportation, hasn't he? How about the radar unit he and Pancho run?"
Scotty snapped his fingers. "Now you're cooking! It's a panel truck,
loaded with equipment, and they pull the radar antenna behind it on a
trailer. There would be plenty of room in the truck. Only he doesn't
take it into town, remember?"
"Would he need to? He could drop the transistors somewhere to be picked
up later."
"Careless Mesa."
"What?"
"That's his station. Come on. Let's look at a map of the area." Scotty
turned and led the way to their barracks.
One thing about the robbery was a major puzzle to Rick. He could see
that a rocket shoot might provide the opportunity to commit the theft,
and he could see how use of a radar van might get the stolen goods off
the base. But the thief had carefully emptied cartons, leaving the
cartons as camouflage. That took more time than any thief would have. He
considered various ways in which it might have been done and rejected
them all.
Tacked up in the entryway of their barracks was a large-scale map.
Scarlet Lake was marked with crayon. The boys studied the area, looking
for Careless Mesa. Finally Scotty found it, almost due north of the
base. "About twenty miles. Only one road to the mesa, but two roads lead
away from it. Let's see where they go."
The first road from Careless Mesa ended at a point in the mountains
marked "_Dry Spring_." The second road led to the town marked
"_Steamboat_," where the road forked again. One branch eventually joined
other roads in Pahrump Valley, the other led to Death Valley.
The boys looked at each other triumphantly. Rick said, "So you can get
from Careless Mesa to state highways without returning to the base."
Scotty scratched his chin. "Any idea what's at Careless Mesa?"
"Not the slightest."
"Neither do I. Maybe we'd better have a look."
That was fine with Rick. "When?"
"How about tomorrow?"
"I'll have to check. Suppose I wander over to the project? If Dick Earle
is there, I can sound him out."
"Okay, and I'll check with my people."
The boys parted, and Rick walked to the Pegasus shed. Dick Earle and Dr.
Bond were in the cubicle where the project paper work was done. The
marmoset was with them, perched on top of the file safe. As Rick
entered, the little spacemonk jumped to his shoulder and caressed his
cheek.
"Come in, Rick," Dr. Bond said. "We're just having a gloom session."
"Gloom? What about?" Rick petted the marmoset, then put him back on his
file-safe perch. "Is something wrong?"
"Transistors," Dick Earle stated flatly. "No transistors left on the
base. That means we come to a grinding halt until we get supplies."
"The whole project?" Rick asked in astonishment. He hadn't realized a
few parts would mean so much.
"Not all of it. Just our part. The air frame and propulsion people can
keep on, because they don't use the gadgets. But we'll be tied up for a
few days until a supply can get here."
Dr. Bond added, "An order has been placed, Rick. By telephone. But the
supplier can't possibly make delivery until after the Orion shoot."
Dick Earle nodded. "Correct. So you might as well plan to loaf for a day
or so, Rick."
The trip to Careless Mesa would be no problem now, Rick thought. He
wouldn't even need to ask permission.
"Strange that anyone would steal a whole supply of transistors," he
commented.
Dick Earle shook his head. "Not particularly. The transistor is still a
critical item in electronics and production isn't up to demand,
especially for special designs. That means the stolen transistors can be
sold fairly easily, once the proper channels to get them into the market
are found."
"What kind of channels?" Rick asked.
Earle shrugged. "Anything to hide the fact that the transistors are
stolen stock. The Earthman could make a deal with some jobber who
handles electronic materials, and feed the transistors into regular
trade channels through the jobber."
"But aren't they numbered, or trade-marked, or something like that?"
"Numbers and trade-marks can be changed," Dr. Bond reminded him.
As Rick walked back to his barracks he pondered over the meaning of the
day's development. For one thing, theft of the transistors put a new
light on the Earthman's activities. It added a profit motive to whatever
else motivated the mysterious saboteur. Or did it?
How Big Mac and Pancho fitted into all this remained to be determined.
Rick could easily imagine that the two would take considerable risk for
big profits, but it was harder to imagine them acting from any other
motive. Somehow, he just couldn't believe that money was the underlying
reason for the Earthman's actions. Sabotaging research rockets just to
provide a diversion that would allow a theft did not make sense.
The Earthman's activities had become more than just a challenging
puzzle, too. Rick's work on Pegasus had become important in its own
right. He was excited at being a part of something so dramatic, and with
such far-reaching consequences for the whole future of space travel and
high-altitude research. He had become a part of Pegasus. Perhaps he
wasn't an important part, but he was making at least a small
contribution to the project's success. That made it _his_ project, and
the Earthman was interfering with it.
Somehow, he and Scotty had to find the Earthman--for personal reasons
now, as well as official ones!