A FEW DAYS later, Lurton Zimbardo decided to take a tour of the
workshops and check on progress. Where Troy Putnam’s organization had
been large, easy-going, and confident, Zimbardo’s was tight,
highly-organized, and ruthless. Its high degree of efficiency was
dependent almost exclusively on Zimbardo himself. Once Zimbardo had
asserted his control over the organization, the asteroid and its crew
had rapidly become an extension of his formidable personality.
He took an elevator from his suite down to the main floor of the
organizational complex and stepped out into the hallway. He walked with
a firm tread, and men stepped aside with a slight deferential bow. He
passed through the great glass doors at the end of the passage into a
huge foyer. Passing through, he entered a courtyard, strode across it,
and came into the working area.
About sixty men were working at various stations. The men felt that
Zimbardo was a real leader and were glad to see their new commander. It
was amazing how rapidly the sense of defeat had been changed to one of
expectancy and pride.
Every day or two another ship docked and new workers came in to join the
crew. Zimbardo had sent out a few trusted leaders to recruit men form
noted asteroid bases and mining operations in the proximity of his
asteroid. He could use more men, especially skilled workers in
electronics and mathematics, but he wasn’t eager to build up a large
force. He chose carefully. The workforce was being built up gradually
with men he could trust. He had also invited three smugglers he had
known before to join the operation, with their men.
“Stubb,” called out Zimbardo.
“Sir,” responded the man so addressed, an eager man about thirty years
old, with sandy blond hair and baby blue eyes. He hastened up to the
pirate leader.
“Give me a status report. The ships first.”
“The sheathing systems are easy to manufacture, thanks to the ample
supplies from the warehouses. The men are able to put them together
rapidly, even the unskilled workers, since they just need a master
circuit to copy. I have forty men working on these, with the skilled
electricians checking each plate. As you know, we completed work on ten
ships six days ago; they were tested and went out on their assignments.
They have not returned yet. These plates we’re working on now are going
on the remaining ships, and we have already finished work on four of
them. That leaves just three to go, including the ship that just joined
the crew yesterday. We should be finished by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good. And the power units?”
“These are far more complicated, sir, so I only have the most skilled
workers assembling these. The same with the propulsion units. They won’t
be ready for at least a week, not even one of them. However, once we get
the prototype finished the rest should follow rapidly.”
“How long until you have all 85 completed?”
“I should have a good number of the unskilled workers ready for a new
assignment once they have finished with the sheathing plates. Once the
design has been checked by the experts, we can get them cracking on the
power and propulsion units. Of course, each unit will have to be tested
by the experts, so I would estimate that all 85 can be operational
within ten days--unless we run into any problems.”
“Good work, Mr. Stubb. I will check on progress every day.”
“Very well, sir.” The man went back to work and Zimbardo returned to the
main complex.
* * * * *
Ceres was the hub of the Asteroid Belt. Nearly 600 miles across, it was
the largest body in the ring of planetary debris that swirled and turned
in a large swath between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. It was the
place where professional miners first arrived from Earth before their
companies farmed them out to the mining centers on various asteroids.
Independent asteroid miners came to Ceres once in a while for supplies,
and corporations picked up equipment imported daily from Mars. Ceres,
located several days’ travel from the nearest sizable population center,
was a buzz of activity.
The _Star Ranger_ approached the large asteroid after a fast but
uneventful journey of six days.
“Quite a cloud of starships!” remarked Joe as Yellow City came into
view. A swarm of at least forty ships of an amazing variety of sizes,
shapes, and vintages was moving over the port. Some were hovering,
others were heading in toward the landing field and a few others were
departing. None moved very fast since the space was as crowded as bees
around a hive.
Yellow City was a well planned settlement, in spite of having been
developed jointly by several different mining companies. Although the
competition was fierce for the rich minerals of the Belt, cooperation
was necessary to build the city, especially in the earliest years of
settlement. The result was beneficial to all, as Yellow City could
easily supply the needs of miners of all kinds as well as serve the
traffic to the Outer Planets that almost always came by way of Ceres.
Advancements in propulsion systems were making it possible for some of
the newer ships to bypass Yellow City on their way to Jupiter and
beyond, but Ceres was still a major stopping point.
Zip spoke quietly to Mark. “Mark, please let them know that we would
like to land.”
Mark opened the microphone. “Starman Mark Seaton on the starship Star
Ranger requesting permission to land.”
The response was immediate. “Yes sir, Starman! Ceres is proud to welcome
you!” The operator went on to give directions for landing.
“Why is he so deferential?” queried Mark after communications had been
completed.
“We’re famous!” responded Zip. “We’ve been aboard ship since the end of
the attempted takeover on Mars and haven’t kept up with the news, but
we’ve become household names. Oritz Konig told me that just as we were
leaving the Base. We’re the men who liberated Mars! The people in the
Belt are especially pleased since the pirates had planned to blockade
them once they had a strong hold on Eagle City. Why, you couldn’t find
another place in the Solar System that’d be happier to see us than
Yellow City!”
The _Star Ranger_ was given priority docking. Once its engines were shut
down, a large crew ran to secure it and welcome the Starmen. As Zip,
Mark, and Joe descended the ladder, eager hands reached up to help them
down the last two or three rungs. Through the bubble helmets on their
suits, the mechanics and service personnel were all smiles.
When Zip inquired about the offices of Starlight Enterprise, the Starmen
were ushered to a small moonbus and driven directly to the site. The
complex was a small two-story building set in a row of offices,
workshops, and garages not far from the landing field. All buildings on
Ceres were made of the gray rock native to the asteroid. Building
material was cheap and solid, but plain.
Although the city itself was covered with an atmosphere dome, the SE
office was located close to the landing field, not within the city
proper. Entrance was through an airlock. Once through the airlock, the
Starmen removed their helmets and placed them on the rack.
“Whoopee! This is fun, being famous!” exclaimed Joe, his eyes alight. “I
hope it lasts until we get back to the Earth-Moon system! I’d like to
enjoy it!”
“I hope so, too, for all our sakes. Your exploits have given _all_ the
Starmen a good name!” Joe whirled.
“Kathryn Mullaney!” cried Joe. Mark and Zip smiled widely.
“What are you doing on Ceres, Kathryn?” asked Zip. “I haven’t seen you
since your last visit to the Academy at the beginning of our senior
year.” Kathryn Mullaney had graduated from Starlight Academy a year
before Zip and his partners; her first assignment as a Starman was in
the Outer Planets. She was twenty years old, wore her strawberry blond
hair short, and had a few freckles spangled across her nose below blue
eyes which had a touch of green in them.
“Finished my assignment on Ganymede and I’m coming back home for a leave
which I hope will be very long! I spent eight months in the smallest
population center in the Solar System, and can’t wait to get back where
there are crowds of people! I’m just staying here long enough for a
quick once-over on my ship, refueling, and then I’m Earth-bound. In
fact, I’m on my way out now.”
There was a little more pleasant conversation, then Kathryn said, “I’ve
got to be going, and Sim is waiting for you upstairs. Good luck!”
Zip, Mark, and Joe ascended the stairs and came to the landing. The
stairway and corridors were very plain. There was no unnecessary
ornamentation of any kind, and lighting was minimal. They found a door
with a sign on it that read STARLIGHT ENTERPRISE in bold letters. A
second line provided the name of SE’s resident operations officer on
Ceres: “Sim Sala Bim.” Joe knocked.
“Come in,” said a voice. The Starmen entered the door. The occupant, a
tall, slender man of Indian extraction with black thinning hair, was
already coming toward the door to welcome his visitors. “Welcome! So
glad to see you! Welcome, please come in!” He ushered them into the
room.
“Nice to see you again, Sim,” greeted Zip. They sat down in a circle of
chairs, Sim sitting near a table on which were placed all the makings
necessary for tea. There were already two cups set out, which had been
used recently. Sim took one for himself and set the other aside. “This
was Kathryn’s,” he said as he produced three new cups for his visitors.
“You probably passed her on your way in.”
The conversation continued as Sim poured the tea from a very large brown
earthenware teapot. Before long, Zip brought up the subject of their
visit.
“I wish we had more time to visit, Sim, but our assignment is extremely
urgent. We must find George St. George as fast as possible, and Oritz
has told us that only a miner named Montezuma Vly can tell us where he
is. We’re on our way to Montezuma’s Castle.”
“Ah, yes,” said Sim Sala Bim, “Sabbath George. He is well known here,
but we haven’t seen him in almost a year, I think. Almost a year.”
“Sabbath George?” asked Mark.
“George St. George is a devout man--genial, generous, liked and
respected by everyone. Honest to a fault. He’s called Sabbath George
because of his beliefs. The nickname is intended to kid him a little
bit, but is really meant as a term of respect and affection. But to find
him in short order, you will indeed have to go through Montezuma Vly.
Montezuma’s Castle is not hard to find, but getting in will be
difficult.”
“We are familiar with Mr. Vly’s convictions and we wouldn’t bother him
if there were any other way to find St. George. Given the time
constraints, we have no choice.”
Sim nodded. “Montezuma’s Castle is easily recognizable by its unusual
shape. It is a true crescent, a sliver of stone with Vly’s operation in
its very center.” Sim went on to provide its coordinates and other
information the Starmen would need to find it.
Zip continued. “On this assignment secrecy is of the utmost importance.
It is vital that no one knows who we are or what we’re doing. We
obviously can’t take the _Star Ranger_, as the news media have made that
ship easily recognizable. We learned that when we landed on Ceres. I
think we’re going to need to use another ship.”
With Sim, the Starmen made plans to leave the _Star Ranger_ on Ceres
while the Starmen, dressed in ordinary clothes, quietly departed for
Montezuma’s Castle in another ship.
“I’ll let you have the _Vigilant Warrior_,” said Sim. “It’s a local
ship, designed for operating in the Asteroid Belt. We own it, but it
hasn’t been used in a while and probably no one will recognize it as an
SE ship. It’s the best I can do on short notice, but it should serve you
well.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, if you say so,” answered Zip.
Sim Sala Bim got right to work, and the _Vigilant Warrior_ was ready for
takeoff within two hours. As soon as it was ready, the Starmen lifted
off from Yellow City. As Joe piloted the ship into the heart of the
Belt, Zip looked back for a brief, wistful moment and saw the unusual
dark red color of the _Star Ranger_, his ship, on the field of Yellow
City.
* * * * *
“That’s it,” said Mark, as the navigation equipment locked onto the
asteroid that was the home of the elusive Montezuma Vly.
“Hmmm. No wonder it’s so hard to find,” observed Zip, looking over
Mark’s shoulder for a moment. “Not far from major travelways but so
unobtrusive you’d never notice it.”
“It just hovers almost in the shadow of that large, worthless chunk
here. Should be able to see it out the window before too long.”
Joe was busy threading the _Vigilant Warrior_ through the asteroids for
the next few minutes. He kept the ship at a moderate pace and passed
easily around the slowly turning asteroids. They were all moving at
about the same speed and maneuvering was not difficult.
“Should be coming up on it about now,” offered Mark.
“There it is,” said Zip almost immediately. The _Vigilant Warrior_ had
eased its way around an oblong worldlet--the “large, worthless chunk”
that Mark had just mentioned--bringing into view a crescent-shaped,
stony asteroid about a mile long. It looked almost like a fat banana
with the ends tapering into sharp points.
“Montezuma’s Castle,” breathed Zip. “Kind of looks like a moon for that
large asteroid.”
“I think it is,” answered Mark. “It rotates around the larger chunk and
the two make almost a helix pattern in their journey through the Belt.
They were probably a single asteroid at one time. One powerful impact
must have split them, but the pieces haven’t drifted far apart.”
“Well, let’s get down there. There’s no mistaking the shape of the
‘Castle.’ Whatever odd shapes you can find in the Belt, that’s got to be
unique.” The Starman brought the _Vigilant Warrior_ slowly into the
proximity of Montezuma Vly’s refuge. “See if you can raise him, Mark.”
Mark Seaton flipped on the communicator.
“Starman Mark Seaton on the starship _Vigilant Warrior_ calling
Montezuma Vly on the Castle, requesting permission to land.” His voice
was smooth, intimate, and confident. There was no response. A minute
later, Mark repeated the message. The metallic voice of an automatic
response system came on.
“This asteroid is private property and visitors are not welcome.”
“We understand that, sir,” Mark replied, “and we would not request
permission to land if it were not a matter of urgent business of
personal concern.” A human voice came on.
“Yeah, like I haven’t heard _that_ one before! I don’t want visitors! If
I wanted a social calendar, I’d go live in a big population center like
Ganymede. Keep going! Next services are 3,000 miles away.”
“Mr. Vly, this is Starman David Foster, Commander of the Starlight
Enterprise ship _Vigilant Warrior_,” Zip broke in. “We understand and
respect your reluctance to receive visitors and will stay no longer than
necessary. We are calling on you because your friend George St. George
has information we need which is vital to the safety of all the
settlements on Mars and even the Earth-Moon system. We also believe it
possible that he is in danger from violent men.”
“Well, _that’s_ a new one. George in danger? What about it?”
“May we land, Mr. Vly? I don’t want to take the slightest risk that our
conversation can be overheard. We won’t stay any longer than necessary.”
“You’ve found me. May as well come in and state your business.” The
communicator was shut off from Vly’s end.
Zip came up on the Castle. It didn’t take long to find the landing site.
There were two spacecraft in position in about the middle of the
asteroid. One was a small ship suitable for local jaunts, and the other
was a normal-sized craft capable of interplanetary travel. The name
_Sentinel_ was painted on the side of the larger craft. Both were very
old and in places a little battered, but were clearly cared about and
well kept up.
The _Vigilant Warrior_ touched down about fifty yards from the closest
of Vly’s craft. Joe shut off the engines and pressed the security
button. A slight shudder ran through the ship as bolts shot from the
fins, securing the ship to the surface. The Starmen disembarked and
descended the ladder.
“Over there,” pointed Joe. The entrance to the airlock was discernible
across the tiny landing area. The Starmen began walking toward it. The
starfield swept away to right and left, with a couple of nearby
asteroids visible to the eye. A great horn of stone rose up before them,
sweeping to a point above. Behind them a similar horn curved up in the
opposite direction.
The ground was uneven, with contours sharply defined. Jagged, broken
rock comprised most of the terrain, with a few smooth ripples which rose
about twenty or thirty feet from the plain. Shadows were utterly dark in
the vacuum of space. The Starmen wore asteroid shoes, designed for
walking in low gravity conditions. Their soles had an automatic “smart
grip” function that gripped the ground when weight was placed on them,
but released when the walker took another step. Without the asteroid
shoes, the minimal gravity of “Montezuma’s Castle” would have made
walking a difficult, even dangerous, task.
The Starmen saw that the airlock was set into the side of a hill. The
hill had been artificially cut away in front of the door. As Zip, Mark,
and Joe approached the airlock, the outer door opened. When they had
passed through, it shut behind them. Joe kept watch on the instruments
as air filled the compartment. When the atmosphere had become normal, he
removed his helmet, and Zip and Mark followed suit. They opened the
second door and passed through. A dimly-lit stairway led down in front
of them. About twenty-five steps brought them to the beginning of a
short passageway. At the end was another door. It was solid.
Zip approached the door and paused. He turned his head to the other two,
lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. Mark and Joe nodded. Zip knocked. The
door was opened almost immediately.
A good-looking, clean-shaven man with dark brown wavy hair looked them
over once quickly, then stepped aside. “Come in,” he said, waving a hand
while the other held the door. “I’m Montezuma Vly.” He had powerful
hands, obviously used to hard labor. His nails had grit under them.
Strong as the hands were, they were also clearly the hands of an artist,
capable of fine work. He shook hands with the Starmen as they entered.
“Wow!” said Joe, the last to enter. Vly shut the door. The three Starmen
gazed about them. They were standing in a small room packed with
machinery--old-fashioned machinery used for rock cutting, polishing
stones, and mounting specimens. The heady smell of machine oil hung in
the air, not heavy like that of an aircraft hangar but attractive and
energizing, almost like a perfume.
The machinery was made of cast iron, with wheels and gears, rods and
chains visible inside the cases. Mark noted that each machine looked
lovingly maintained. The newest machine must have been at least fifty
years old, but all were in top quality condition.
“They’re made to be used,” explained Vly, discerning their thoughts.
“You can’t get better machines than these today. The new stuff doesn’t
last and can’t be depended on.”
Mark, the engine master of the trio, immediately thought of the
precision instruments produced by Starlight Enterprise. He opened his
mouth, but said nothing. He knew that SE made quality machinery, but
little of it was iron. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself by
talking about something of which he knew little. Instead he smiled and
decided to take a closer look.
He leaned over the closest apparatus. His mild skepticism quickly turned
to awe. “My goodness, Mr. Vly! This is incredible! These machines are
beautiful!” Vly didn’t smile, but his face softened a little.
Joe and Zip were looking around the room. On two walls were hung various
hand tools. Several shelves held cans of oil and paint, boxes of
supplies, and dozens of samples of minerals and crystals. The other two
walls were lined with books, half of them behind glass.
Zip turned his head to the side to read the titles of some of the books.
He saw _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_; _Kon Tiki_ by Thor
Heyerdahl; _Homer’s Odyssey_; and several advanced textbooks on
mineralogy, metallurgy, engineering, and electronics. Zip’s eyebrows
lifted. He was impressed.
Mark was looking at the books on the other wall. _Basic Watercolor_, he
read. _The Stories of Edgar Allen Poe_ was next to _The Life of Johann
Sebastian Bach_. Mark whistled. “Not what I expected, Mr. Vly,” he said.
“Not at all what I expected.”
“Uh huh,” murmured Montezuma Vly. “Let’s get down to business. Follow
me.” He squeezed past Zip in the crowded little workplace, passed
through a narrow door on the other side of the room, and through a
passageway. The Starmen followed.
A small furry shape leaped through the air in front of Joe. “Ack!”
exclaimed the lanky Starman, stumbling backward, knocking over a couple
of small boxes as his arms flailed. Nuts and bolts scattered on the
floor. Joe backed into another box and sat down hard on it.
“What--?” exclaimed Vly, turning.
“What was that?” cried Joe. “Something jumped across the corridor. I
think it went into this recess here.” He pointed to an opening between a
few stacked boxes.
“One of my koalangs,” answered Montezuma. “I’ve got four of them here.
There are a few more in the living quarters. Good company. They can
startle you, though, and they can make an awful mess. More than once
I’ve threatened to make stew out of ’em and eat ’em for dinner.” The
Starmen looked at one another, wondering if he was joking. His next
action showed that he was.
“Come on, Howard,” said Montezuma gently, bending over and calling into
the dark place where the koalang had hidden. “They won’t hurt you. I
know you’re not used to company, but no one’s gonna hurt you. Come on
out. That’s it, come on.” He reached in gently and drew a small creature
out of the darkness. It had a small furry face with large, frightened
eyes, and snuggled up against the miner. Its fur was caramel and white.
He folded it into his chest and covered it gently with both hands. He
crooned to it lovingly for a moment or two, then said, “That’s right.
You’re okay. Go play.” Then he added with mock fierceness, “Just stay
out of the paint!” He set it down and turned back to the door at the end
of the corridor.
“In here,” he directed, leading the way into the room beyond.