“WHAT’S the word for ‘walk’?” asked Mark.
“Gentrikian,” answered Zip automatically.
“That makes forty-seven points for you,” said Joe. “I need fifteen more
just to catch up. C’mon Mark, give me an easy one--help me out.”
“Okay. Do you want English to Titanian or Titanian to English?”
“Titanian to English. That’s easier.”
“K’intrishian.”
Joe thought for a moment. Languages seemed to come easily to Mark--he
could absorb concepts and find mental hooks to hang them on with no
noticeable effort at all. Joe found languages far more difficult. He
preferred engine diagrams and flow charts.
“I don’t know!” The lean pilot blasted, exasperated. The Starmen, like
the crew from Z25, were passing time as they entered the third day of
their captivity aboard the _Silver Cloud_. Mark was teaching Zip and Joe
some of the Titanian vocabulary he’d been working on for two years.
“This one should be easy for you, Joe, even if it isn’t ‘sleep’ or
‘eat.’ The answer is just about all we’ve been able to do on this trip
so far.”
“Well, sleeping and eating is all we’ve done!”
“‘K’intrishian’ means ‘wait.’”
Joe grinned. “We’ve certainly been doing a lot of that on this outing!
The past couple of weeks have seemed about pointless! Just about all
we’ve been doing is bouncing from place to place! We blasted off from
Eagle City to the Asteroid Belt and then went right back to Mars. Then
back to Ceres in the Asteroid Belt. Then to Montezuma’s Castle and on to
Z25, and we complete our mission just in time to get captured by the
enemy! Now we’re being taken to this ‘secret asteroid’ where Lurton
Zimbardo has his base and I’ll bet anything we’re going right back to
where we started--where we lost track of that ship we were chasing into
the Belt!”
An announcement came through the intercom. “Prepare for deceleration in
two minutes.”
The Starmen looked at one another, then at the crew of Z25. St. George
was already walking toward his acceleration couch. Each of them could
feel his heart suddenly beating a little faster. They strapped
themselves into their couches. Zip looked out of the window but saw
nothing out of the ordinary.
A moment later, the rockets on the _Silver Cloud_ ignited and the ship
began to slow. About half an hour later, the had slowed to a crawl and
the view of the stars disappeared. It became apparent to the prisoners
that they had entered a tunnel. After a few seconds, the ship touched
down and secured itself to the landing pad. The prisoners waited. No one
spoke.
Minutes passed, then the door to their quarters opened. Spelford stood
in the opening, with several other men behind him. All were armed.
“Time to go,” Spelford announced. The prisoners were escorted single
file through the ship and down the access ladder to the floor of the
landing pad. They were under observation at all times by armed men in
front of them and behind.
Joe reached the bottom of the ladder and turned to look around. To his
right was an enormous clear wall which sealed off the landing area from
the immense tunnel through which the ships had come. In front of him and
to his left was a complex of charcoal-dark structures, lined with silver
trim and glinting with many panels of glass. The entire area was
powerfully lit by dozens of sources hundreds of feet above him. He was
both impressed and intimidated at the same time.
As soon as the prisoners had debarked from the _Silver Cloud_, Spelford
began giving orders.
“Move. This way. Stay in single file.”
The line crossed the field and passed through a second airlock. Leaving
the field behind, they entered a large manufacturing area. Several dozen
men were working feverishly at massive tables and work centers. Sparks
from welding areas were visible in the back parts of the area. Flashing
lights from many desks lit up the faces of men with intent gazes, whose
attention was fixed on close work on numerous small circuit boards. A
few workers glanced curiously at the line of prisoners, but they didn’t
waste time on a thorough investigation of the newcomers.
Spelford and his detail escorted the prisoners through an immense double
door, down a wide passageway, and into a large elevator. The elevator
could accommodate fifty men easily. When all were inside, Spelford
tapped a number into the control pad and the elevator began to descend.
It stopped in seconds and the door opened into an area where several
corridors came together. Two small elevator doors flanked the one from
which the men emerged. The procession entered a dimly-lit corridor that
extended for about a hundred yards. Many doors were set into the walls,
but none was open.
Spelford led the way down the corridor. After covering about two-thirds
of the distance, he stopped and slid open a plain, dark portal set into
the right side of the passage. He glanced into the room beyond, then
stepped back and said, “In here.” The prisoners entered, and the door
closed behind the last one.
George St. George broke the silence. “We’re not going to be able to
absquatulate from these pirate yaps very easily, that’s for sure. Guess
we’ll have to make the most of our stay here.”
Zip strode into the center of the room and looked around. Indirect
lighting provided plenty of illumination. “Clearly a dormitory of some
sort,” he observed to no one in particular. Bunk-style beds were spaced
around the walls. Through another door was a resting area with tables
and chairs. In another room were washing facilities. On one side of the
main room was a large window which overlooked the landing area and
primary work center of the asteroid.
Joe and Mark strode over to the window and looked out. “The rotation of
the asteroid provides the equivalent of gravity,” observed Joe. “About
what we’re used to on the Moon--about one-sixth Earth. What do you
think, Mark?”
“Feels like a little less to me,” answered Mark. “We’ll have to step up
our exercises if we’re going to maintain muscle tone.”
“Nothing fancy, but everything we need,” said one of St. George’s men
after a quick look around the rooms.
“For a long stay, maybe,” said another.
“‘K’intrishian’ means ‘wait,’ if I remember correctly, Mark,” said Joe.
“That’s thirty-three points for you,” responded the tall Starman.
* * * * *
Time passed. From the window in the wall of the asteroid, the three
Starmen looked down and saw a buzz of activity. About two dozen ships
were docked on the field, and workers were still hovering around tables
in the work center.
“Here comes another one,” said Joe, as a spacecraft passed into view
from the large tunnel that led to the outside.
“How many is that since we’ve been here?” asked Mark. “Six?”
“Yes, six in less than twenty-four hours,” stated Zip.
The Starmen chafed under the burden of their powerlessness. They had
already scoured the rooms carefully and found no sign of weakness they
could exploit. Their food was delivered through an automated shaft that
they could find no way of using as an escape route. They had neither
seen nor spoken to anyone since Spelford had brought them to their
prison.
Once again Zip looked out the window. “This place is amazing! This could
not have been anticipated by anyone! It must have been quite a shock
when you found this asteroid, George.”
“Oh yes, I was awestruck, completely, absolutely electrified! Imagine
stepping into a remnant of an astounding civilization like this. When I
found it, it was abandoned. It seemed as if no one had been in it for
probably thousands of years.”
“Tell us everything you know about this place,” ordered Zip, looking
intently at the asteroid miner and drawing him over to the nearest
table. Zip gently eased the miner into a chair, then turned another
chair around and sat in it, folding his arms over its back and facing
George. The asteroid miner told the Starmen the story of his discovery
of the asteroid and how Troy Putnam had learned about it. They had
already heard a brief version of the story from Oritz Konig back at Mars
Base.
“Of course, I didn’t know this Putnam was a bad egg at the time. He just
seemed like a friendly, curious spaceman to me.”
“What about the asteroid?” pressed Joe. “What have you figured out about
the race that built it?”
“As I said, the asteroid was abandoned when I ran across it, but whoever
built it couldn’t have been too different from us. Same body type, same
size, that’s obvious. Look around you--beds, chairs, everything, just
the way we’d make them. Their language was quite different, though. Took
me a long time to learn how to use some of their stuff.”
“How’d you learn your way around here?”
“When I first came upon the asteroid, the airlock was open. A huge
orifice, made for spaceships, as you can tell. I came through and
landed. Went through one of the airlocks into the building portion here,
where we are now, and just explored. Trial and error. It’s not too
difficult to get the basics down-opening and closing doors, and all
that. Then figuring out the right mix of atmosphere. I had plenty of
time. I got access to the first four or five stories, but I’m pretty
certain the place is much bigger than that. At first, I couldn’t get any
further than the first few stories, but after a while I found my way
around a couple of deeper sections.”
“And then?”
“What do you mean, ‘and then’? I got bored with it and moved on. I’m a
miner, not an explorer or a settler or a scientist. There’s nothing here
but iron. I told a few people about it but nobody much believed me or
cared until this Troy Putnam fellow I met in Yellow City. He’s the only
person who got excited about it, so when he asked me to bring him here,
I did it, as I said. Why not? He paid my expenses for the trip, and a
little more besides for my time. He was impressed with the place, as was
I. Then I went looking for uranium and he went back to Ceres. Never saw
him again.”
Zip pursed his lips, and his brow furrowed under his red hair--a common
expression for the leader of the Starman team. “This has to explain why
Zimbardo was looking for you,” he said. “No one outside the pirates
knows as much as you about his asteroid. That didn’t seem to bother Troy
Putnam, but Zimbardo must consider you a threat. But I can’t understand
why he has taken us prisoner. Zimbardo has no heart of mercy whatever. I
would have expected him just to silence you for good. Obviously he is
preparing this place for some new and big enterprise and is probably
occupied, but now I think we’ll be hearing from him before too long.
Before that happens, I think we’d better be gone.”
“Escape? You talking about escape, Zip? From here?” asked Joe with
amazement.
Zip addressed St. George. “Tell us everything you know about how this
asteroid works. Leave out no detail whatever. Everything you can
remember. Joe and Mark, pay close attention! We have to come up with a
plan!”
* * * * *
A full day had passed since Richard Starlight had called the special
meeting in his office in the towers of Starlight Enterprise. Now he sat
silent and alone in one of the chairs around the great table. Suddenly
he spun the chair around and stared through the clear wall in front of
him. His gaze went far past the lunar mountains into the distant sky
where Mars was just rising, a tiny red point.
The President had issued his commands earlier that morning. A secret
communication had been issued to the commanding officers of all the
bases of Space Command. A similar message had been sent to the heads of
large commercial enterprises such as Starlight Enterprise and Nolan
Mining Enterprise, as well as the local authorities of population
centers in the Asteroid Belt and on Mars. The communication had provided
what information was known about the threat that the pirates manifested.
It ordered Space Command and urged the private parties to keep the
information secret so as to avoid panic and to prevent the pirates from
learning that their sheathing apparatus had been observed in action, and
advised all parties to prepare for any attack the pirates may launch.
They were put on high alert for visual attack and to be ready for
instant defensive response.
In Amundsen City, Keith Seaton sat at his desk, scanning the Asteroid
Belt with his telescope. His strong build filled the chair in which he
sat.
“There’s Ceres,” he said quietly as the image of the Belt’s largest
asteroid came up on the screen. Charlie Taylor and Allen Foster, who
were sitting next to him, nodded. The fathers of the three Starmen
weren’t conversing much that night, but all were greatly comforted by
each other’s presence.
On Ceres, Sim Sala Bim received the encrypted message on tight beam, and
felt immense sadness come over him as he read it. “Where are those three
young Starmen now?” he wondered.
In the laboratories of Starlight Enterprise’s main center on the Moon,
scientists were working around the clock to devise a method by which
their ships could track distant objects by sight instead of radar.
Additionally, under a very rare Presidential command, technicians were
working frantically under Earth’s pre-eminent astrophysicist, Stephen
Hoshino, trying to devise an advanced means of detecting a ship that was
invisible to radar.
The Inner Planetary system was waiting for a strike which its defenders
knew would surely come--but not when, where, or how.
8: The Starmen Strike!
ALMOST an hour had gone by since George St. George had begun to tell the
three Starmen what he knew of the asteroid. Zip, Mark, and Joe had
listened intently, plying the asteroid miner with detailed questions as
he continued his narrative. At last, no one had anything else to say.
“No more questions?” Zip asked. Both Joe and Mark shook their heads.
Their energy level had gone up appreciably since they had sat down with
George. They had become spirited, now that they were determined to find
a plan of escape.
“All right, then. It seems to me that this may be easier than we
thought,” stated Zip.
“You have an idea already?” asked Joe, with a slight turn of his head.
“It seems obvious that this asteroid was not intended to house
prisoners. This room we’re in is not a cell block--it’s a dormitory.”
“Right,” said Mark. “Therefore the locking mechanism is not original to
the asteroid’s design. Is that where you’re going, Zip?”
Zip smiled. “Keep going,” he nodded.
“Whoever made this asteroid was far in advance of our science and it’ll
probably be a long time before we, or anyone else, learn how to alter
their design. But the locking mechanism was most likely put in by the
pirates, probably on short notice. It can’t be too sophisticated a
system. Again, since this is a dormitory and not a cell, the wiring is
probably on this side of the door rather than in the hallway. Let’s find
where the pirates rewired the door. Whatever they can do, we can undo.”
The Starmen leaped up and began to investigate the door and the walls
near it very carefully. Now that they had some idea of what they were
looking for, they hoped it would be easier to find an access panel of
some kind which their previous general search had missed. Minutes passed
with no result. The walls had no apparent seams, and the door was set
into the framework so closely that there seemed to be no space between
the door and the edge of the wall into which it slid.
“Try the floor,” suggested Joe. Mark dropped down and scanned the floor
minutely. Joe moved farther to the right and Zip to the left of the
door, their fingers moving gently over the surface looking for some kind
of irregularity.
St. George watched them with a mix of curiosity and amazement on his
face. His men sat at the tables playing games, paying the Starmen little
heed. Once in a while one looked up, then turned back to his game.
Others napped on the sofas.
“Look here,” said Mark. Zip and Joe came over to see what he had found.
“What do you see?” he asked them, sitting back on his heels.
“Where?” asked Joe.
“You find it--see if I’m right,” answered Mark.
Joe pursed his lips and squinted. Zip watched carefully. George appeared
almost impassive, but inside his heart was beating faster.
“I see it,” observed Joe after a minute.
“What?” burst out St. George, then looked almost sheepish for showing
his excitement.
“The light reflects off this patch here just a little differently from
the rest of the floor. It’s a perfect square about, oh, fifteen inches
on a side.”
“Right,” said Mark.
“How do we open it--if it’s a panel, that is?” asked Joe. He pushed the
corners, tried sliding the panel in every direction, bounced the square
with his fingers, all with no result.
“Let me try,” said Mark. He laid his hand gently on top. In a few
seconds there was a click and the square lifted up an inch, supported by
a small, spring-loaded shaft in the center. Mark lifted the panel off
and revealed a recess filled with finely detailed circuit boards. Over
and around them were a few dark wires that obviously did not belong to
the original design.
Joe snorted. “How did you do that?”
“Well, I thought that it had to be some sort of radiation that would
open it. There were no obvious signs of physical fasteners like screws.
So I figured it had to be magnetism, or light, or maybe heat. I thought
body heat would be the easiest to try, so I laid my hand on it,
concentrated, and made it warm, and it opened!”
“Good work, Mark, but let’s not waste time! We’re in a hurry now,” urged
Zip. “What do you see in there Joe?” By now George and several of his
men had come over and were watching over the shoulders of the Starmen.
“Yeah, really simple circuit. I can disconnect it in a minute even
without tools and we can be out the door.” Joe reached in.
“Wait!” Zip grabbed Joe’s wrist. “Is there any evidence that the circuit
is tied into a larger system, like a master computer, that would tip
anyone off that the door has been opened?”
Joe peered into the aperture and carefully traced the wiring.
“Sorry, Zip. Sorry, everybody,” he said, chagrined. “You’re right. There
is. But I can fix that too.” He reached in and twisted two wires
together. “Okay, that should bypass the door circuit and tell the master
computer that the door is still closed. I can open the door now. Are you
ready?”
Zip stood up. “There are fourteen of us. We don’t know where to go once
we’re free, so I’d like George to lead us. He’s been through the
asteroid. Take us somewhere, George, where we won’t be found easily.”
George shook his head in a big arc. “Now Zip, I haven’t been on this
chunk for over fifteen years. I’m not real sure where to go!”
“George, no one else has been on the asteroid at all. There’s no one but
you.”
The asteroid miner looked down, dejected. “I don’t like any of this. But
you’re right. Okay. We’ll go out the door and back to the elevators.
We’ll take the one on the left. I’ll take us to a floor one level down,
then through a huge storeroom. On the other side are other corridors.
I’ve been through there, and there are places to hide and more elevators
to get us other places on the asteroid. After that I’m not sure. Maybe
I’ll remember when we get there.”
“Everyone got that?” said Zip. “Stay together and move quickly.” No one
had anything else to say. Zip turned to Joe.
“Let’s go,” decreed Zip. Joe removed one end of a black wire and touched
it to another terminal. The door slid open.
Outside was a scene that none of the Starmen had expected. Two pirates,
dressed in their gray and black uniforms, were seated opposite one
another at a small table on the far side of the corridor. The one on the
right was a well-muscled, large man with dark hair, weighing well over
200 pounds; the other was blond, of medium build. He was leaning on his
elbow, pondering his next move in a board game. When the door slid open,
they both looked up, utter surprise written over their faces.
Both the Starmen and the pirates froze for a split second, then both
sides moved at once. Mark charged for the big man and Joe for the blond.
Simultaneously the huge pirate bellowed and threw the table toward the
charging Starmen, scattering the game pieces. Mark stopped the flying
table without slowing his pace and slammed it hard back at the pirates,
legs first. The blond man managed to evade the table, but the big pirate
took two table legs on his left thigh and upper chest. He groaned, and
the laser pistol he had been drawing was caught behind the table. Mark
quickly threw the table upside-down to his left, reached with both hands
for the pirate’s right arm, and pulled the man quickly down and toward
himself. His right knee came up and caught the man in the solar plexus.
The pirate went down with a whoosh of air and lay still. Mark picked up
his pistol.
Meanwhile, the blond pirate had screamed for help in a panicky voice,
turned, and was dashing down the corridor toward the elevators. Joe took
hold of the table’s leg nearest him and skated the table forcefully down
the corridor after the escaping pirate. It caught the man behind his
left ankle as he was running. In the low gravity, the pirate turned
almost completely over, his pistol flying. Joe caught up with him and
delivered a quick punch that rendered the man unconscious. The entire
fight had taken less than ten seconds.
Zip stepped into the corridor calmly. “Did either of them have a chance
to set off an alarm?”
“I think this one did,” responded Joe, pointing to the fallen pirate at
his feet and picking up his laser pistol. “He had about five seconds
while he was running to send an emergency call.”
Zip grimaced. “That was stupid. I should have thought that they would
have a guard. I just didn’t think of it, with all the electronic
gadgetry around here and their obvious need of manpower. My fault.
Sloppy thinking. But it’s worse to stand here and feel badly about it.
We’ve got to disappear fast.”
“This way!!” shouted George and began to run toward the elevator. The
asteroid miner who had previously been so sedate and hesitant now led
the way. The Starmen followed him and the ten others brought up the
rear. George reached the elevator door and pressed the panel. In seconds
a door opened and the men hurried in. Just as the last man rushed
through the opening and the doors began to close, the elevator doors in
the next shaft opened and a troop of pirates poured out, guns drawn. In
front of them they saw their two comrades lying motionless in the
corridor, table and chairs in full disarray.
“Come on!” commanded their leader, leaping forward and turning toward
his men to enforce his order. His eyes opened wide as he saw the doors
of the adjacent elevator closing on the escaped prisoners. The Starmen’s
last view of the scene was the pirate leader’s shocked face, mouth
agape, pulling his laser pistol up to fire. Then their doors sealed and
they began to descend.
Almost instantly, it seemed, the door opened. The only light came from
the interior of the elevator. It shone on an uncountable number of
enormous crates, stacked three high and set in rows extending beyond the
range of the minimal light. Though the walls of the room could not be
seen, there was a distinct feeling that the open space was huge--larger
than a gymnasium, perhaps larger than a stadium. No one said a word. No
one moved.
Suddenly Zip grabbed the laser pistol that Joe was carrying and leaped
out of the elevator. He whipped around and fired at the control panel
next to the large central elevator. The panel flared red for a second
and then sparked like fireworks. Zip released the activation trigger on
the pistol and stepped back. A few pops echoed in the darkness against a
background of the soft sizzling sound of molten metal dripping down the
wall.
Zip ran to the third elevator, calling out, “Move away from the
elevator! Mark, destroy the controls!” Simultaneously Mark and Zip
demolished the control panels of the remaining two elevators. When the
controls were obliterated, the lights in the elevator went out and the
fourteen erstwhile prisoners stood in the utter darkness of the immense
chamber. The sole illumination was provided by the fading red glow of
the superheated panels that had been their targets and a few bright
orange dots in the gaping holes that remained.
“I don’t know if that’ll prevent the pirates from stopping at this
floor, but every elevator on Earth I know about can’t move beyond any
floor where the controls are inoperable. George! Where do we go?” Zip
asked.
“Does anyone have a light?” responded the asteroid miner. Just then a
pale glow like early dawn rose around them and filled the chamber.
“What’s that?” cried a frightened voice.
“Automatic lighting, probably,” answered Joe. “When someone moves far
enough away from the elevator, or when its light goes out, the automatic
lighting goes on.”
“Follow me,” directed George. He led the procession to the right of the
elevator shafts. On one side was a blank wall at least 25 feet high. On
the other were row upon row of crates. Each box had a mark on it, but
none of the Starmen could recognize its meaning. Far down the rows was
the opposite wall of the chamber, at least 200 yards away.
George St. George was hurrying, leading the band of fourteen onward.
There was no opportunity for conversation, but Mark stepped up close to
Zip, who had taken the last position in the march.
“Think what this place is, Zip!” the mystically-oriented Starman
breathed, his eyes alight with excitement. “This was made by an
intelligent, extra-terrestrial race we’ve never heard of! The Titanians
certainly didn’t make it! And whoever made it was shaped just like us!
As George said before, the controls, the beds, the chairs--all are
designed for people like us! Same size! And _imagine_ what must be in
these storage units!”
“I have been thinking about it, Mark,” answered Zip. “I’ll want more
time later to sift through my impressions, but there are too many
questions here to deal with at the pace we’re going.”
“Of course, but think! Who made this place? How big is the complex? When
and why did they abandon it? Where are they now?”
“Yes--and above all, what else will we find in here?”
Just then the screech of tortured metal sounded loudly throughout the
chamber. Everyone turned and stared back at the elevators, where the
sound was coming from. A spot on the left door of the central elevator
began to glow red, then orange, then white. Iridescent metal began to
spew forth in chunks. Then a spherical mechanism about the size of a
basketball shot through the hole. A few bright green and yellow lights
the size of small coins lit up its dull silver surface.
Zip’s blood ran cold. “It’s an airbot!” he cried. Zip had never seen an
airbot before, but he knew what it was: an aerial reconobot, an armed
robotic flying device which, among other uses, could be programmed to
track down fugitives, drawn by their body heat. Zip and Mark lifted
their laser pistols and fired simultaneously. Their beams lit up red
dots on the surface of the flying ball but scattered harmlessly, as the
Starmen assumed they would. The airbot quickly oriented itself to the
escapees and began to fly toward them.