THE GREAT AIRLOCK on the pirates’ asteroid opened. From the depths of
the abyss five ships came forth. Emerging from the stone tunnel, they
moved into formation and then headed for the Asteroid Belt. Lurton
Zimbardo’s lieutenant Crass held the authority over the small fleet.
Each ship was sheathed with the radar bender, making it invisible to the
normal means of detection used by Starlight Enterprise, Space Command,
and other Earth-based entities.
As the ships came into the Belt, Crass gave the command to the other
four pilots. “The target asteroid has been located. Proceed with the
destruction of the sats.” The sats were small, unmanned electronic
satellite observers, distributed throughout the Asteroid Belt to aid in
research and navigation. They monitored movement in the Belt and
provided constantly updated information on the location, speed, and
direction of major asteroids.
The four ships moved into pre-determined areas in the quadrants around a
small, heavy, black, iron asteroid that was speeding smoothly along on
its course.
Crass stood on the deck of his ship and gazed out at the small asteroid.
He spoke as if to himself. “There it is, the first of five surprise
packages for our beloved Mars.” The pirate leader waited patiently for
the pilots of the four companion ships to report back. He expected that
their assignment would take about 45 minutes--maybe as long as an hour.
The first report came in 42 minutes later.
“Mr. Crass, this is Slant. We located three sats in quadrant two and
destroyed them all.” The other reports came in only moments later. A
total of fourteen sats had been located within 600 miles of the asteroid
where Crass was waiting, and all had been destroyed. Crass opened the
intercom on his own ship.
“We’re clear. Go to it.”
Over a dozen space-suited men spilled out of the airlock. They had been
waiting for the order from Crass. Each carried a large crate, nearly
weightless in the Asteroid Belt. They maneuvered easily through space
and floated gently to the surface of the asteroid--a dark 100-yard wide
clump of dirty rock. Immediately the men began to distribute the crates
evenly over the surface of the rock.
The grim, forbidding, pocked asteroid became the site of frenzied work.
The crewmen removed sheet after sheet of dark metal from the crates and
fastened them to the floating chunk of iron. Tiny flames showed where
the irregular metal of the asteroid was being shaped to fit the plates
the pirates were anchoring to its surface.
In one hemisphere three other men were attaching power and propulsion
units. They sank holes several feet deep and inserted tubes, fuel tanks,
and a control mechanism. At one place near the asteroid’s equator a
technician was installing a communications unit.
The four companion ships had returned and remained on guard less than a
quarter mile from the asteroid. In less than two hours the work on the
asteroid was completed and the crewmen reentered their ship.
“Take us home,” ordered Crass. The five ships left the Belt and began
the quick journey back to their port. Crass smiled most of the way back.
* * * * *
On Mars in the communications tower of Eagle City, technician Mel Golden
was puzzled. Some of his data had just dried up. Mel was responsible for
monitoring the sats in a large segment of the Asteroid Belt, and a
section over a thousand miles in diameter had gone dark. He called to
his superior.
“Will, I’ve got something curious here.” A slender, middle-aged man with
long gray hair walked over to the console.
“What is it, Mel?”
“Look at this. You asked us to report anything out of the ordinary.
Well, occasionally one sat will malfunction, but it looks as if at least
a dozen have stopped reporting all at once. I haven’t plotted out the
details yet, but there’s an entire section of the Belt where nothing’s
happening.”
“When did it start?”
“Just a moment ago. So whatever occurred out there happened
about...”--he thought for a second--“about eleven minutes ago.”
“Thanks, Mel. This could be the surprise we’ve been waiting for. I’ll
report this immediately.” Will went over to the master communicator in
the tower and sent a top priority message to Space Command’s
headquarters on Mars, describing the situation. Space Command
headquarters forwarded the information to its centers on Earth and the
Moon, as well as to Oritz Konig, SE’s Head of Security in Mars Base.
Konig’s report to Richard Starlight included these words: “It looks
probable that the pirates have taken some sort of action in the Belt.
There are no population centers of any size within 10,000 miles of the
place, and no known solitary miners. It’s a completely dead spot, and
sats are spaced very thinly there. Yet fourteen sats in a sphere at
least a thousand miles in diameter were put out within a ten-minute
period. No natural phenomenon can explain that. Space Command has the
closest ship, but it won’t get to the site for a little more than 22
hours. The nearest backup ship is more than three hours after that. SE
doesn’t have a ship of any kind at all within four days of the site, so
we’ll have to depend on Space Command for the first reports.”
* * * * *
“Wake up! Everybody wake up!” Starman Joe Taylor was shouting.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Voices came from several men, jerked awake
by Joe’s outburst.
“Food! There’s food here!” he burst out. “And water! Someone brought us
food and water! Lots of it!”
Within seconds everyone was up and crowding around Joe. Now that he had
roused his companions, he was bent over a half dozen large boxes, one of
which was partially open. He reached in and took out a container filled
with fruit. He handed it to one of George St. George’s men, reached into
the box again, and withdrew a vessel with water in it. It had a spigot
on it as if it were made for traveling. The men began passing it around,
drinking deeply. Joe dug in again and brought out another box. He opened
it and held it up so that others could see. It contained several layers
of items like large crackers.
“Where did it come from, Joe?” Zip asked.
“I don’t know, Zip! I woke up before anyone else and noticed these
crates. I jumped up, looked around but didn’t see anybody. I opened the
first one and saw the fruit. That’s the whole story.”
“You don’t know it’s safe! You took a chance, Joe!”
“What kind of chance, David? Where were we going to find water, much
less food? We were done for without this.”
“Not too much of a chance, I think, Zip,” whispered Mark to the
red-haired Starman. Zip turned his head and looked at Mark curiously.
“The food’s okay. Let the men distribute it and I’ll tell you what I
know.”
“Okay,” Zip nodded. He turned to George. “Let the men take the crates
apart and see what we’ve got here. We’ll eat and then we’ll make plans.”
George took over operations while the three Starmen stepped aside.
“What do you know, Mark?” asked Zip. Mark told the other Starmen what he
had seen in the middle of the night.
“Hmmm. Hard to credit it, that the original builders of this wonder are
still here,” mused Zip. “Why would they let Earthmen come in and take
over? I gather from what we’ve learned and what we’ve overheard that the
pirates have been active here for over a dozen years, and George found
this place over fifteen years ago.”
“The pirates haven’t really taken over, Zip,” said Joe. “It looks as if
they haven’t gone beyond the first few levels! Something’s kept them
out. Only George was able to get beyond the floor where the warehouse
is. Maybe that’s why Zimbardo wanted to find him and keep him alive.
George doesn’t know too much about this, this, I don’t know what to call
this place, but he knows more than any human living.”
“Whatever the truth is, we have some friends,” contributed Mark. “They
don’t want to be seen, but they’ll help us. I’ll bet a golden asteroid
that they’re the ones who destroyed the airbot. I think we need to be
ready to see what happens next.”
“You’re right, Mark,” said Zip. “We’ll have to be prepared to move.” The
Starmen went back to the group. Everyone was seated on the floor or on
chairs, eating a welcome and refreshing breakfast. The four men who had
been rendered unconscious by the airbot had benefited from a good
night’s sleep and were back to normal.
Mark reached into one of the crates and took out one of the items that
looked like a large cracker. He saw that several of the miners were
eating them. Zip had also taken a bite out of one and was chewing
thoughtfully.
“What do you think of these crackers?” Mark asked.
“Survival food,” opined Zip. “The fruit is delicious, though.”
When everyone had finished breakfast, George St. George asked, “What
should we do now, Mr. Foster?”
“I was just going to ask you the same question, George,” answered Zip.
“Let’s get the men together and make some plans.” George called the
miners together. Zip delivered a short speech, informing them that he,
Joe, and Mark were Starmen and gave a brief summary of their assignment.
With a nod, Zip asked Mark to tell what he had seen during the night.
Then a number of men began to ask questions.
All at once the room dimmed. The voices stopped suddenly. After a few
seconds, one of the corridors lit up with a soft, pleasant light.
“That’s the way we go, I think,” said Zip. “Pack up the food.” The
contents of the remaining cartons were distributed among the men and Zip
led the way. He felt more hopeful than he had since the Starmen had
landed on Z25.
The corridor extended for several hundred yards in a straight line. Many
doors and other passages led off in different directions, each marked
with one or more figures, none of which was familiar. The passageway was
plain and utilitarian. After more than five minutes of walking, the men
came to an intersection of passages in a large, faintly illuminated
room. The lights in the corridor faded behind them. Across the room was
a row of elevator doors. A row of lights lit up over one of them. Zip
strode boldly across the floor to the elevator that had been indicated,
and the others followed without a word. When he was within twenty feet
of the door, it opened. After the men entered the compartment and laid
down their burdens, the door closed.
On a control panel, one light gleamed and Zip pressed it. When he had
done so, another light went on. He pressed that one. After he had
pressed six lights, no more came on, and the elevator began to descend.
After about a minute, the movement stopped and a door behind the men
slid open, opposite to that through which they had entered. The men
turned and inhaled sharply.
“Oh my! Oh my!” exclaimed Zip, but no one heard him.
In front of the men was a power plant of impossibly immense size, in
dusky darkness. There were low murmurs as of engines pulsing far away or
of winds passing through trees, but they were quiet sounds. The ceiling
was out of view, lost in blackness above them. A seamless iron floor,
perfectly level, stretched out before the men as far as they could see.
The left wall was beyond their vision; the right wall was about thirty
yards away. Lights were located sparsely throughout the facility.
Gargantuan tubes, gleaming silver in the lights and ribbed like a torso
of a dragon, snaked through a heavy latticework of girders. Iron pipes a
foot in diameter ran by the dozens through the open spaces. There were
catwalks, elevators, and enclosed spiral staircases in strategic places.
Great metal containers bearing dials and lights of various colors took
up much of the space.
“Go,” said Zip. His voice came out as a whisper, which he had not
intended. He swallowed and said it again, a little louder this time. “Go
on, move out. It’s okay.” The men stumbled forward, filled with awe so
overwhelming that it paralyzed their vocal cords.
Finally Joe caught his voice. “This is _great_! Wow! _This is GREAT!
FANTASTIC!!_” He pushed through the miners in front of him and ran
forward about twenty feet. He shouted as loudly as he could. “_HEYYY!!_”
There was no echo. His yell disappeared as if it had been damped. He
suddenly felt chilled and afraid. He turned back to the others and
rejoined the crowd. He sidled over to Mark. “This place is great,” he
whispered with a smile. Mark’s eyes were upturned and shining with
appreciative wonder.
Zip moved to the front of the company. In a quiet but determined voice
he said, “Let’s go. We’ll just follow the main aisle, straight in front
of us.” He began to walk and the others followed. “Don’t forget the
food,” he threw over his shoulder. Two men turned back to retrieve their
supplies and then ran to join the others.
Joe moved up to the front and walked next to Zip. The Starman leader was
setting a brisk pace.
“Isn’t this place fantastic, Zip? Just think of the people who can build
a thing like this!”
“I am thinking of them,” answered Zip. His brow wore the characteristic
furrow that showed he was not completely at ease.
“What’s wrong?” asked Joe, as if he hadn’t a care.
“Something bothers me. Our unseen friends, if they are the ones who
built and maintain this asteroid, are highly advanced
technologically--far in advance of anything we’re likely to achieve for
centuries. But from what Mark told us, it’s obvious that they’re afraid
of something. I can’t see that they’d be afraid of Zimbardo and his
cronies. They’re afraid of something else, something we don’t know about
yet--and that makes _me_ afraid.”
He continued his fast pace and Joe kept up with him, but Joe’s eyes
glanced into the shadows as they walked.