FOR NEARLY seven days, the convoy of seven NME freighters and twelve
Space Command warships had sped away from the Earth-Moon system. The
warships flew in a spherical configuration about five miles in diameter,
at the center of which were the unmanned freighters in compact
formation. The urgency of the mission gave the convoy no choice but to
utilize the most direct route to the site of deployment, so that the
probes could be put into action at the earliest possible time. There was
simply no time to follow any evasive flight plan. On the success of the
microwave net rode the hope of Earth’s survival from the threat of
impact with the enormous asteroid Lurton Zimbardo had unleashed.
“There they are!” announced Mr. Lather, pilot of the _Silver Cloud_, as
he looked at the radar screen. He was followed closely by five other
pirate spacecraft. Two other groups of six pirate ships were nearby,
also searching the area of space in front of them for the convoy.
“Inform Bolcher and Crass and give them the coordinates. Tell them that
since I was the first to locate the freighters, I will attack first.
Their ships will follow me according to our plan.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Lather,” responded the _Silver Cloud_’s navigator. The
communication was completed and the details of the plan agreed upon.
Then the intership communications system was deactivated. The pirates’
ships, being sheathed to radar, were equally invisible to each other as
to the men of Space Command, but each pirate captain knew where the
others were supposed to be. The ships usually communicated by
closed-system radio and thereby kept in close contact with each other,
but now they could not risk revealing their position by engaging in
radio contact when they were in the proximity of other ships.
Moments went by without a word being said. Lather could feel the
adrenaline surging through him. He was eager to give the command to
attack.
“One minute!” he announced to his own crew. “All hands prepare for
battle!” After the designated time had elapsed, he shouted, “Go!”
Followed by five spaceships protected by the radar bender, he sped
undetected through the sphere of Space Command warships. On the screen
before him the massive freighters loomed up. “Fire!” he shouted. “Fire!
Fire!”
A laser cannon locked onto one freighter and ripped open its hull. In
seconds the _Silver Cloud_ was past it and through the other side of the
sphere. Behind him came another pirate ship, and then another. As each
passed through the sphere, it fired laser cannons at the freighters.
None of the lasers struck a vital point in any freighter’s fuel system,
but the potent cannons, each set on highest power, ripped into the
unmanned ships and tore them open to the vacuum. Lather’s six ships shot
through the sphere of guard ships without being detected or even shot
it, but none of the freighters had exploded. Lather cursed when he saw
that the damage he had inflicted was not crippling.
The Space Command warships were immediately aware of the attack and
began to scatter the freighters by remote control. Some freighters
decelerated, others accelerated, still others moved away from the
center. Now the pirates would have a more difficult challenge to destroy
the NME ships.
As his fleet circled, Lather waited to see what Bolcher’s ships would
do. He knew where Bolcher was supposed to be but could not communicate
with him without revealing his position to the warships of Space
Command. Lather could only watch the screen.
Suddenly one of the freighters exploded into incandescent fury. The
detonation destroyed the two freighters closest to the one that
Bolcher’s ship had hit. Within seconds a fourth freighter erupted into
flame as its fuel system ignited. The three remaining freighters began
to weave in a random pattern, and the Space Command warships began to
close in, reducing the window of access to the center of the field.
Crass’ ships began to zoom toward the remaining freighters, laser
cannons ready. Being the most experienced pilot, Crass was confident
that his team could eliminate the last three ships. Coming in at a fast
clip, each pirate ship only seconds after its predecessor, Crass’ crew
strafed the freighters, scoring two direct hits.
With a grin of satisfaction, Lather saw that he would have one more
chance to attack. The protective warships had drawn into a very tight
formation to protect the last freighter. Its hulk was already torn with
a long rip, but its engine still worked and it responded to controls.
The freighter turned and twisted in a random, spiraling forward motion
with the warships close around it. Lather brought the _Silver Cloud_ in
for the kill.
Shooting smoothly through an opening in the protecting ships’ formation,
he saw his target and fired. The last freighter blew up almost in his
face. All seven freighters--and their contents--had been turned into
diminutive pieces of whirling space junk. The _Silver Cloud_ sped
through the detritus and passed the far boundary of warships. As soon as
he had passed the last Space Command ship, three of them fired at him
almost at once. Though he was invisible to radar, he was visible to the
eye at the moment he was close to the exploding freighter.
One Space Command laser pierced the _Silver Cloud_--a narrow but tight
beam. The shaft of weaponlight punctured the crew’s living quarters, and
air began to escape from the pirates’ spacecraft. Automatic seals
quickly stopped the leak and Lather sped on. The exultation he had felt
at having fired the final destructive bolt had instantly changed into a
cold dread at his narrow escape. Followed by the other pirate ships, he
sped on, back toward the great asteroid where Lurton Zimbardo awaited
news of their successful mission.
Commander Benjamin Bennett of the Space Command ship _Ignis_ sat
motionless for ten minutes after the last freighter had blown up. He was
a topflight career space pilot who governed one of the few standard
Space Command Fleets of Twelve. His black hair showed no signs of gray.
Because of his unspotted record and eminent trustworthiness, he had been
given the responsibility for guarding the freighters. Usually looking
much younger than his forty-one years, now he appeared much older.
No one approached him. Then he spoke, as if into the air.
“I suppose the pirates are gone now.”
“So it would appear, sir,” said a crewman.
“Obviously they weren’t concerned with destroying us--just the
freighters. I suppose in the long run it amounts to the same thing,
though.” No one responded. “Please raise headquarters and hand me the
communicator.” A crew member complied. Commander Bennett took the
communicator. His message was terse but complete: pirates had attacked
the convoy and all seven freighters had been lost.
Twelve minutes later the news came into Starlight Enterprise and was
tranferred immediately to Richard Starlight, who was at work in his
office. He finished listening to the message, then turned and looked out
over the stark moonscape. Slowly, he smiled.
* * * * *
The next day, just after noon, Richard was again in his office. Joining
him for lunch were John Rwakatare, Robert Nolan, Beowulf Denn, and
Commander John Lewis and a few other visitors from Space Command. Though
the food was delicious, the meal was a dismal affair. Long faces and few
words expressed the atmosphere of the gathering.
Richard, however, and Robert seemed not to share the gloom. Richard was
an attentive host, carefully seeing to his guests’ needs. “A little more
water, John?” he asked, offering the crystal decanter. “Could you please
pass the biscuits, Robert? Thank you. Good, aren’t they?”
“Yes, Rick, they are, especially for biscuits made on the Moon,”
responded the head of NME. “Your chef is highly skilled.”
Beowulf Denn couldn’t take it any more. “You seem awfully lighthearted
about everything, Richard,” he said in a tone that verged almost on
disrespect. Richard smiled but said nothing.
When the lunch things had been cleared away, Richard spoke.
“Thank you for coming, gentlemen. I apologize for not sharing your
distress. Please forgive me for what must appear to be an appalling lack
of empathy. When you learn why I have brought you here, you will forgive
me, I think. I am expecting a message any moment now, and I wanted you
to be here when it came in. It is coming from the commander of a large
fleet of Starlight Enterprise ships.” Richard glanced at Robert. The two
friends shared a subtle smile.
“Encrypted message from Captain Marks-Owens, sir,” came an artificial,
mellow voice through the high-level communication system.
“Ah!” said Richard. “Transmit to my office.”
The large screen on the wall behind Richard lit up. He turned his chair.
The visage of a tall and slender woman appeared, with high cheekbones
and honey-dark hair drawn back and held in place with a small circlet.
“Captain Mary Marks-Owens on the Starlight Enterprise ship _Tempest_,
reporting on top security beam to Richard Starlight. Starlight fleet is
in place. There were no incidents, and we are ready for your command,
sir.”
Richard smiled widely and said clearly, “Excellent work, Mary! Deploy
the probes immediately!”
Beowulf Denn choked. “What is this?” he burst out.
“Surprised, eh?” said Richard jocularly, turning his chair back to the
table. “Of course, she won’t get the message for about ten minutes. But
when she does, we’ll be able to say, ‘mission accomplished’!”
“What is this?” Commander Lewis echoed Beowulf Denn.
“It was Robert’s idea, really,” began Richard, “and he ought to be
telling the tale, but he is too modest to do so. Robert and I cooked up
the plan between us and told no one else. Just in case there was a leak
somewhere--and apparently there was!--Robert made a fuss about wanting
to offer his freighters to convey the probes to the deployment site. He
offered rather expensive freighters for service. Robert felt badly
about, well, about making a scene when we met with the President and
wanted to make up for it.”
Robert glanced down at the table so as not to meet anyone’s eyes, but it
was evident that the success of his plan was deeply gratifying to him.
“The NME freighters were decoys. The real probes were sent out on SE
freighters to different spots along the face of deployment. They were
sent out without any fanfare whatever on the normal delivery schedule we
follow for all shipments to Mars and the Asteroid Belt. It would never
have done, anyway, to send the probes out in a tight bunch as the seven
NME freighters; deployment must be simultaneously effected from several
sites, and this is the command I just gave Captain Marks-Owens.
“If the pirates took the bait, then they would go back to their base
believing that they had stopped us. And if they didn’t know about our
plans or the decoy, well, no harm done. Deployment would still go on as
scheduled. That’s about two minutes from now.”
The visitors were stunned. “Why, that’s terrific!” stammered Commander
Lewis. “No one else knew about this? Not even the President?”
“No one,” said Richard. “Only Robert and I. And it’s a good thing we did
it that way, too. Without the decoy, the launch would have gone as
planned with everyone knowing about it. As it is, we’re safe now.”
“Not only that--” contributed John Rwakatare in his deep bass voice,
“we’ve learned something of immense value. There _is_ a leak somewhere.
Someone informed the pirates of the launch from NME.”
“Yes, there’s that,” said Robert Nolan with a sigh, finally speaking up.
“But for now, deployment of the probes will take place successfully.
We’ll have to check for the leak, and I initiated a careful search as
soon as we received news of the attack.”
Richard turned back toward the screen. “Computer,” he said. “Give me a
tie-in to the master control aboard the _Tempest_.” The screen showed a
scene in space.
“There is a delay, of course, but the feed is continuous. Deployment of
the probes is taking place about now, but we won’t see the results for
about ten minutes.” Time passed.
“Coming up on the time now,” announced Richard a little later, breaking
into the light conversation that was going on around the table. All
heads turned toward the screen.
“This is a map of the expanse of the site of the deployment. This is not
the actual scene, of course; it is a computer enhancement, programmed to
show us what is actually happening.”
From twelve sites at once, scattered about evenly throughout the area,
small points began to glow. The points marked the locations of the SE
freighters that had carried the real probes. Simultaneously from every
point emerged a starburst of lines, each one a fine, golden strand of
light.
“Dr. Hoshino’s design propels each probe at about one-twentieth the
speed of light. Complete deployment should take about an hour and a
half.”
The men waited nervously. Some browsed Richard’s books and others peered
through his small telescope at the moonscape. Occasionally two or three
would come together for quiet discussion.
On the screen, the golden lines gradually lengthened. From time to time
one would burst into a flower of lines like summer fireworks, and then
later each of those lines extended and burst again.
When deployment was complete, the entire screen was filled with a
complex pattern of golden points, like dawn-illuminated mist hanging in
a huge spider’s web.
“Success!” said Richard quietly, but his voice trembled with excitement.
“Captain Marks-Owens will now initiate the program that will unify the
probes into a single system. At the same time, she will enter a program
that will allow the system to read the gravitational forces attendant
upon every object within its range. The known asteroids and other
heavenly bodies and the scheduled flights of spacecraft will be filtered
out. What will be left will be the positions of unknown craft and any
uncharted natural objects.” As he spoke, the web began to shimmer in
dozens of places, each the site of an object with enough mass to ripple
the gravitational-detecting field of the net.
“Ah! Now the known ships are being filtered out,” Richard observed as
many of the ripples disappeared. In a moment, he leaped to his feet.
“There it is! There it is!” he shouted. He ran to the screen. “Look!
Here are the pirates’ ships that attacked Robert’s freighters
yesterday!” He pointed to a small ripple in the pattern and scanned the
readings at the bottom of the screen. “Yes, eighteen ships. Here are
their masses provided down here. And over here,” his finger swept across
the screen to a large ripple in the upper center, “is the asteroid
coming our way!
“Computer! Extrapolate the course of this object”--he gave the
particulars--“and provide information on its trajectory.”
In eight seconds the voice of the computer spoke. “Object is a natural
body of approximately 20,625 trillion tons, currently traveling at a
rate of approximately 280,000 miles per hour. If present speed and
course are maintained, object will fly by the Earth. Closest approach
will be attained in 15 days, 8 hours, 3 minutes, 14 seconds at a
distance of approximately 10,689 miles.”
There was silence in Richard’s office for over a minute. Then someone
said, “It’s going to miss.”
18: Collision Course!
EXHAUSTED with relief, the party broke up. The men from Space Command
left the Starlight Enterprise plant and returned to their headquarters.
Robert Nolan and Beowulf Denn lifted off from a launching deck not far
from Richard’s office and set course for the space station that was the
central facility for Nolan Mining Enterprise.
Richard had already given orders that ships from Starlight Enterprise be
assigned the immediate task of pursuing and capturing the eighteen
pirate ships that had destroyed NME’s decoy freighters the day before.
The SE freighters that had actually carried the probes into space had
been joined by SE ships gathered quietly from various sources during the
previous week. They had converged during the journey so that many were
in place throughout the area of the search, ready to respond to any
orders that might come.
Inside many of them were the Firewasp fighters SE produced for use in
the Asteroid Belt. The Firewasps were small, tremendously fast and
amazingly maneuverable one-man ships that had been concentrated in
several SE bases in the Asteroid Belt. They had been named after a
menacing insect found in certain hostile swamps on Mars. The tiny craft
served mostly as a deterrent, since smugglers and other lawless types
avoided any settlement that showed it was ready to defend itself against
marauders.
Commander John Lewis was to issue similar orders to Space Command ships
in the vicinity of the microwave net. There were enough SE ships close
to the course the pirate fleet was taking that Firewasps could be
launched to intercept the pirate ships within an hour.
John Rwakatare and Richard Starlight remained alone in Richard’s office.
They were seated on a sofa, looking out over the vast lunar landscape.
An enormous dark gray field stretched out for several miles before
breaking up at the far side into jumbled, light gray boulders.
“What do you make of it, Rock?” asked Richard. “Why did Zimbardo tell
the entire planet that he was going to pulverize it, and then set his
projectile on a fly-by course?”
“I don’t think he merely made a mistake,” said Rock. “He’s shown he can
guide asteroids to near-pinpoint accuracy.”
“Hmm, yes...but those were much, much smaller and were aimed at much
closer targets. You don’t think he could have just...aimed and missed?”
“Possible, Rick, but I’m not convinced. Consider this: where did the
communications from Zimbardo come from? An asteroid base. The Starmen
told us about this hollow asteroid and that it could be ‘flown’ like a
great spaceship. We have seen only one large asteroid coming toward
Earth. To be blunt, I think Lurton Zimbardo is a liar. The asteroid he
aimed at Earth is his own base! His threat to slam it into Earth was
intended to cause panic--and it did! He achieved that without actually
having to carry out his threat. I think the real threat is what is
_inside_ this hollow asteroid.”
Richard was listening intently. The relief he had previously felt was
evaporating rapidly. He deeply admired and respected John Rwakatare.
Rock had a remarkable and rare combination of a filing-cabinet mind and
an ability to dream. He was eminently logical at all times, but could
also come up with “leaps beyond logic” in which inspiration confidently
answered a challenging situation. Now was one of those times.
Richard remembered when Rock had graduated from Starlight Academy
fifteen years earlier. Richard was in his early forties at the time, and
recalled the shock that went through the Starlight world when Rock was
offered the position of Starman but had turned it down. He was the only
person ever to have refused the honor. He had chosen instead to stay
close to a young woman whom he loved; they had married and now had four
young children. Rock rarely left his family, and Richard had placed him
second in command of Starlight Enterprise.
Rock continued. “We already concluded that the ability to sheath
spacecraft and even asteroids comes from an alien intelligence more
advanced than our own race. I think it highly likely that the source--at
least the immediate source--of that knowledge is the asteroid Zimbardo
has taken over. We don’t know what other capabilities this asteroid base
has. But we _do_ know that Lurton Zimbardo is bringing it to
Earth--very, very close to Earth, and that he will be here in fifteen
days.”
Richard swallowed hard and looked away. “Oh my, Rock!--I’m sure you’re
right. In fact, what other possibilities are there?”
“But unless he has defenses or weaponry we haven’t seen yet, we have an
advantage. A slight advantage.”
“What’s that?”
“He doesn’t know that we know where he is or that we have guessed what
he’s really doing.”
* * * * *
Robert Nolan and Beowulf Denn made the twenty-six minute journey from
the Moon to the space station. Robert had been full of chatter on the
way back, but Wulf had responded only with short sentences, and after
they had docked they went their separate ways. Robert went to his office
to call the President. Richard had urged Robert to be the one to inform
him that the probes had deployed successfully, that the microwave net
had found the asteroid, and that Earth was not in danger of collision.
Robert felt the honor deeply and was eager to announce the good news.
Wulf found his way to his own private sanctum, saying he wanted to take
a nap. He set a “do not disturb” code on his communication system. Then
he prepared another audiodisk, making a brief report of the luncheon
meeting at Starlight Enterprise. He played it through twice, making
changes until he felt comfortable with the message. Then he speeded it
up so that the complete message lasted 0.027 seconds, encrypted it,
inserted the disk into his personal computer, and transmitted it. After
the message had been sent, he destroyed the disk and removed all signs
on his computer that the action had occurred.
He stared out the window at the third planet, a beautiful blue and white
globe, thinking nothing in particular. After a moment he stretched out
and tried to take a nap. But he couldn’t sleep.
* * * * *
A red light pulsed rapidly on the console near Lurton Zimbardo’s chair.
Seeing the flash from the corner of his eye, he jerked his head around
and stared at it as if he couldn’t believe that it was lit.
“What’s this?” he thought. “There’s no message due now.” He pressed the
button that deactivated the light, placed headphones on, dialed a few
knobs on the console, and pressed “Play.”
Fifteen seconds later he leaped up from his chair and bellowed. With
both hands he jerked the headphone cord out of the control panel. The
wires whipped through the air with a noise like a scourge. Zimbardo
twirled, his eyes bulging, and flung the headphones from him with all
his force. The set flew through the command center and collided with the
opposite wall. Everyone in the room froze and turned to look at the
pirate leader, and were appalled at what they saw. He was trembling with
demonic fury. No one moved or said a word. Even Gene was afraid to
speak.
“_They found us!!_” Zimbardo shouted. “They found us! The Earthmen know
where we are! They’ve located the fleet!! The freighters those fools
destroyed yesterday were decoys! The Earthmen deployed the real probes
and they’ve already found us! They outsmarted us!” He cursed vehemently,
then growled as if his teeth were grinding on gravel. “But I’ve never
been outsmarted! I won’t be outsmarted now!”
Zimbardo jumped back into his chair. “Gene! _GENE!!_” He screamed like a
man possessed.
“Right here sir,” said the young man, coming up quickly to the pirate
leader’s side.
“Crank up all the power this asteroid can give me! I’m going to create
the biggest electromagnetic pulse this Solar System has ever seen, and
_BURN_ every last one of those probes out of the void!! And then when we
are invisible again, we’ll move this asteroid to a new course and
continue our plan.”
“But sir,” pleaded Gene, almost desperately. “That would take a lot of
power! It would be highly inefficient and might work against us! I don’t
know the power capacity of the asteroid! It could very well burn us
out!”
Zimbardo stopped moving for a moment, then turned his head very slowly
around and stared at Gene. His eyes glinted with an unearthly light.
“Do it,” he hissed.
Gene stepped back half a pace, then pivoted swiftly and ran to the power
breakers on the far side of the room. He began to pull switches,
override safety indicators, and turn power dials to maximum output.
In a little less than three minutes, he turned and looked back at
Zimbardo. The pirate leader had not taken his eyes off of his assistant
for a second. With his mouth slightly open, Gene looked into Zimbardo’s
eyes from across the room and nodded with a quick jerk of his head.
Zimbardo smiled, inclined his head slowly, and turned back to his
console. He laughed out loud and pressed the switch that activated a
general direction EMP.
There was a deafening sound like that of a huge metal block falling to
the floor and then grinding along an uneven surface. A wailing screech
filled the room and everyone but Zimbardo covered his ears. The screech
increased in intensity until men fell to the floor and writhed, pressing
their hands firmly to the sides of their heads. Then there was sudden
silence and the lights went out. Men began to moan, and someone’s voice
quavered: “The atmosphere recycler has stopped!”
“_Everything_ has stopped,” said Gene from the darkness.
* * * * *
Twelve Firewasps came upon the eighteen pirate ships with a suddenness
that took the pirates completely by surprise. The small spacecraft moved
so quickly that the pirates could get off only wild shots that never
came close to any of the SE craft. The Firewasps used narrow but highly
dense laser weaponlight with remarkable effectiveness. Skilled pilots
and marksmen quickly disabled the pirate ships by piercing their power
supply, effectively casting them adrift in space. The pirates’ sheathing
systems went down, rendering the ships visible.
The battle was over in less than two minutes. Captain Mary Marks-Owens
and Richard Starlight received the news within minutes of each other,
that the eighteen pirate ships were derelicts and their crews would no
doubt be eager to be picked up by the nearest Space Command ships.
Without power, their air would not last more than twenty-four hours.
Richard and Commander Lewis made the next order jointly. With a few
exceptions, all Starlight Enterprise and Space Command spacecraft were
to journey to the pirates’ asteroid at once and prepare for battle. They
would bring the attack directly to Lurton Zimbardo.
After issuing the order, Richard reset his communication system to
contact the _Star Ranger_. Now that the need for secrecy was past, he
wanted to bring the returning Starmen up to date and urge them to come
to the pirates’ asteroid with the others.
Inside the _Star Ranger_, Mark cried out, “Hey! Listen to this!” He
directed the communication system to public announcement mode and
restarted the message from Richard Starlight. In exultant tones, Richard
related the events of the previous two days, concluding with the capture
of the eighteen pirate ships and the coming attack on Zimbardo’s
asteroid.
The Starmen cheered. They all jumped up and danced. After a moment, Zip
asked, “How soon can we get to the asteroid, Mark?”
Mark sat down and quickly figured. “We’re only about a day and a half
away.”
“What are we waiting for?!” exclaimed Joe.
“Let’s go!” said Zip. “We could use a little diversion on our way back
to Earth.”
Mark set a new course and Joe initiated it. The _Star Ranger_ turned
slightly to intercept the asteroid where they had been imprisoned nearly
three weeks before.
* * * * *
As the power system aboard that same asteroid screeched into disruption
and then silence, a massive electromagnetic shock wave was dispensed
from its surface. A great pulse of destruction moved through space at
the speed of light. Although it was not strong enough to harm
spacecraft, the microwave probes were no match for its power. As the
pulse swept past the probes, they winked out in flashes of golden light.
On the master screen aboard the _Tempest_ and in Richard Starlight’s
office, viewers watched the golden net disappear. Although it was past
midnight, Richard and John Rwakatare were wide awake with their eyes
glued to the screen. From the center where the asteroid was indicated,
an expanding circle of darkness went forth, gradually swallowing up all
the probes. It was obvious to Richard that the microwave net was doomed.
“Computer,” he said in a dull voice. “How much longer until the net
disappears?”
“Four minutes, twelve seconds,” came the mellow voice.
“The eighteen ships are adrift,” Richard said. “We can’t lose them. But
if this asteroid is maneuverable, as it must be, Zimbardo can speed up,
slow down, or change course and avoid our attack. He can disappear.”
Richard’s body tensed and he raised his voice. “How did he know about
the probes?!” he exclaimed, with exasperation.
“The spy,” responded John Rwakatare.
* * * * *
Aboard the pirates’ asteroid, power was returning. An emergency backup
system had kicked in, causing the lights to flicker back on and the
atmosphere recycler to hum quietly back into efficiency. With covert
glances back at Zimbardo, the men returned to their stations.
Zimbardo barked out a command.
“Status report!”
“Right away, sir,” said Gene, taking his own seat. He attended to
various dials and incoming signals.
Zimbardo stood up and walked over to the great window that overlooked
the huge rocket pad outside. There were seven ships left--six belonging
to the independent smugglers, Jeff Jenner, Lorry, and Captain Kimball,
and his own personal ship, the _Tartarus_. Even the _Silver Spear_ had
been taken by Lorry. The asteroid was nearly empty of men; only his
support crew, the smugglers and their crews, and a few others remained.
“Sir,” spoke up Gene. His voice trembled. He spoke as one apologizing.
“Mr. Zimbardo. Mr. Lather sent in a frantic message that all eighteen
ships were under attack. The transmission was cut off in mid-sentence. I
scanned their location, sir, and detected three large Space Command
ships approaching our convoy. They are about to be captured, sir.”
Zimbardo turned slowly and looked at Gene without a change in
expression. “And?” he said. “There’s more, I can tell. And...”
“And there is a large fleet of ships belonging to Space Command and
Starlight Enterprise converging on our location. In less than three
hours, fourteen ships will be arriving within minutes of each other.
Approximately the same number again will join them over the next
twenty-four hour period.” Gene hesitated, then decided to deliver the
last sentence. “Even if we are sheathed, sir, with that many ships so
close, they will be able to find us before long.”
Lurton Zimbardo turned his eyes obliquely to the floor and joined his
hands behind his back. He rocked for a moment on his feet, almost as if
pondering a challenging philosophical question.
“I see,” he said at last. He walked quietly over to his console, sat for
a moment without moving, then began to move dials and enter numbers into
the navigational program. He consulted various tables of information and
referred to a number of measuring devices whose sensitive detectors were
on the surface of the asteroid.
Minutes passed. Zimbardo grew increasingly agitated as he worked. His
men had stopped their own work and watched him. Where his hands had
begun to move gently and carefully, they began to exhibit higher and
higher degrees of animation. Soon he was pressing his keyboard
vehemently and muttering under his breath. Once in a while he chortled.
Finally he shouted, “Hah! That will do it! I won’t be outsmarted!” He
pressed the “Enter” button and then roared, “Yes! I win!” He leaped from
his chair and lifted up both arms. “I win!” he screamed.
As the program Zimbardo had activated was engaged, the power it required
began draining the emergency resources of the asteroid. The lights
dimmed and the usual hum of the atmosphere recycler began to stutter.
“What did you do?” Gene asked with trepidation. “Even the backup power
system is being strained.”
“Just keeping a promise,” said Zimbardo jovially. “I told Earth I had
sent them an asteroid. I wasn’t very truthful at the time, I’m afraid.
But now I have kept my promise. I have redirected the asteroid so that
it will collide with the planet! --and I’ve pushed the acceleration up
to full!”
A soul-wrenching moan escaped from Gene’s lips. He stumbled over to his
chair and collapsed into it. He stared ahead, seeing nothing. The other
men were frozen in their places.
Zimbardo strolled over to the wall-screen that provided a map of the
Inner Planetary system and indicated their position. With the power
drain, the images were going in and out of focus and numbers were fading
from the screen.
“Hmm. About ten days to impact,” he muttered. “Can’t tell for sure with
the images fading like this, but no matter. By that time we’ll be long
gone.”
A few minutes later the insides of the complex began to screech as they
had before. The screech did not rise in intensity but gradually turned
into a groan. The light slowly faded and then went out completely.
“The power is out for good now!” Gene wailed. “and we’re prisoners on
the asteroid! Now it’s a runaway! We can’t stop it!”
“Why would we want to stop it? We’ll take the _Tartarus_ and leave to
fight again another day! Pack up, get the men, and let’s go. We’ve got
less than three hours, I think you said.”
Panicked, Gene fled from the room, feeling his way desperately through
the darkness. “I’ve got to warn Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner! We’ve got to
escape!” Fear unlike anything he had ever experienced or imagined filled
his entire being.