GENE FLEW down the corridor with his arms outstretched, not knowing
exactly where he was going and not caring, as long as it was away from
the control deck. He was breathing hard and fast, on the verge of
hysteria. Realizing that he was in danger of losing his grip, he paused
to catch his breath, and leaned against the wall.
A moment later he saw moving lights in the stairwell a long way ahead.
In the growing gray illumination, he dashed forward and saw Kimball,
Lorry, and Jenner coming up, carrying flashlights. When Kimball saw Gene
hurrying toward him, he flashed the light directly into his eyes and
roared, “What in blazes is going on in this place?”
Gene threw his hands up over his eyes, but continued to stumble forward.
“You’ve got to get out of here,” he choked out. “Get your men, get your
ships, go!”
Jenner put a firm hand on Gene’s shoulder, and Kimball lowered the
light. “What’s going on? Where’s Zimbardo?” Jenner’s voice was a little
quieter than Kimball’s but just as demanding.
Gene gulped and looked up. “He--, he’s aimed the asteroid at Earth! It’s
on a collision course! He burned out all the power--_all_ the power! He
can’t stop it! He doesn’t _want_ to stop it!”
There was a stunned silence. Jenner, his mouth opening and closing like
a fish out of water, finally blurted out, “Why did he do that?”
“All the men in the fleets have been captured! We’re the only ones left,
and Space Command will be boarding us in less than three hours!”
The three smugglers gasped in dismay. Jenner pushed Gene away and the
three of them shot back down the stairwell. When they reached the lower
level, Gene heard them shouting for their men. The light gradually
diminished until Gene was once again in complete darkness.
“Gene! Gene! Where are you?” came the voice of Lurton Zimbardo from far
behind him. Startled, Gene quickly whirled and peered into the darkness.
From far away came a sound as of scurrying feet. There were men
coming--the men from the control center, with Zimbardo. Gene spun again
and ran for his own room. He had decided what he was going to do.
Frantically he rummaged through his belongings until he found his own
flashlight. Without turning it on yet, he ran from the room and hastened
farther away from the control center.
“Gene? Gene! Is that you?” came the voice of Lurton Zimbardo. Gene
inhaled quickly and looked back. There was still no light. He hesitated
for a moment, then answered,
“Yes, it’s me.” His voice was squeaky.
“Where are you?” echoed down the corridor.
“I’m not going with you! Go on without me!”
“What?” Zimbardo’s voice had a note of complete incredulity in it. “Why
not? Hurry up, Gene! We have to go! I don’t want Space Command on my
tail!”
“_I’m not going!_” Gene shouted. He turned and fled. He sped down the
corridor as fast as he could go, came to its end, turned the corner, and
kept going. In less than a minute he was many turns and twists away from
the main level. He switched on his light, put it on its lowest setting,
and slowed down to a walk. “He won’t wait for me! He won’t look for me!
He’ll want to go! Soon he’ll be gone and I’ll be safe!” These thoughts
came through Gene’s mind almost like a flow of clear water.
He came to a storeroom, pushed the door open, and flashed his light
around. The room was crammed with stacks of boxes and various other
items. Seeing there was no one else inside, he shut the door, crawled
under a cabinet, and turned off his light.
After a short while, he felt the floor tremble slightly. He knew that a
spaceship had lifted off. It was followed quickly by five others. “The
smugglers are gone,” he thought. “Just one more now. If I hear one more,
I’ll know that he’s gone.” He waited, desperately hoping he wouldn’t
hear the sound of the door opening.
* * * * *
After they left Gene, the smugglers Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner quickly
gathered together their men and supplies and headed for the airlock to
the launching pad. There were thirty-seven men altogether. All had their
spacesuits on and most of them carried lights.
“How are we going to get out of here?” asked one of the men as they
approached the airlock. “The airlock won’t open. Nothing’s working.”
“Portable power pack,” said Kimball. He took a small box from another
man, set it down by the airlock, and in seconds had established a
makeshift connection. The airlock opened. In that fashion, the men
boarded their ships without delay.
Kimball lifted off first and entered the vast, stone tunnel that led to
the outside. As soon as the enormous airlock became visible down the
shaft, he fired a laser cannon at it. Unable to resist an attack from
within, the great door, thousands of years old, shattered into
fragments. The atmosphere of the launching pad rushed out, hurling the
shards of the airlock door into space. Kimball’s ship then came through
the tunnel and exited, followed in short order by the five other ships.
They set a course for the Asteroid Belt and at top acceleration left the
pirates’ asteroid behind them.
* * * * *
After Gene had fled out of earshot, Zimbardo turned to the few men who
were behind him. “I’m lifting off in the _Tartarus_ in ten minutes. It’s
the only ship left on the asteroid. Meet me at the great doors. Tell
everyone else you see.” He swiveled and walked to the stairwell to go up
to his own rooms.
None of the men said anything to each other, but scattered, each going
to his own quarters.
Ten minutes later, arrayed in his spacesuit and carrying a few items,
Lurton Zimbardo stood at the great doors. Behind him was the asteroid
complex. In front was the manufacturing center and beyond that was the
launching pad where the _Tartarus_ stood in solitary splendor. Only five
men had joined the pirate leader.
“So,” said Zimbardo. “Only five of you. Five men left. Who are you?” He
lifted his light a little so he could see their faces. “Ah, Mr. Gebbeth.
I said before that I knew I could depend on you. I’ve always known it.
You are the pilot. And Mr. Slant. Mr. Stagnum. Mr. Withers. And Mr.
Poppy. No one else. Well, then, there are six of us altogether. Let us
go.”
There was almost no talking. Each man seemed to know what to do without
being told. They opened the airlocks to pass through the manufacturing
center, and then into the airless launching pad. Without haste but
without unnecessary delay, they entered the _Tartarus_, a gleaming
silver and red ship that could support a crew of eighteen.
The six men strapped themselves into acceleration couches with Gebbeth
in the pilot’s position. “Take us out, Mr. Gebbeth,” said Zimbardo. “I
will tell you where to go when we are free.”
“Yes sir,” said Gebbeth, and initiated the launching sequence. In a
short time, Lurton Zimbardo’s spacecraft had left the asteroid.
“Top speed, Mr. Gebbeth,” said Zimbardo. “Make sure the sheathing
equipment is functioning. Head away from the sun.”
“Of course, sir.”
* * * * *
When Zimbardo burned out the asteroid’s power, much of the energy needed
to power its sheathing apparatus disappeared. The sheathing plates then
only received power through the solar energy panels, and they did not
provide enough energy to hide the asteroid completely. It appeared on
radar as a faint blip, allowing the Earth ships to locate it without
difficulty. About two hours after Zimbardo’s departure, the fleet
command ship _Tempest_ came upon the asteroid. It was the first of
fourteen ships from both Space Command and Starlight Enterprise that
were expected to arrive within the hour.
The _Tempest_ maneuvered carefully through the gaping orifice left when
Kimball’s ship had blown the massive airlock, and set down inside the
airless docking arena of the asteroid. Captain Mary Marks-Owens
descended the ladder first, followed by several members of the crew. All
were armed. Only the lights of the spaceship lit up the cavernous hall
of shadows.
“Eerie,” observed Captain Marks-Owens as she set foot on the pavement.
“Follow me. We’ll see if the place is as abandoned as it looks.” Nine
space-suited figures fell in behind her as she approached the airlock
into the manufacturing area. When she was unable to open it, she called
for a portable power supply. Two additional men brought one from the
ship, opened the airlock, and allowed the landing party to enter the
complex. Once inside, the members of the crew were able to dispense with
their helmets.
Slowly and carefully they made their way through the blackness, pushing
it back with the radiance of the lights they carried. They were in awe
of the huge, obviously alien place.
“The place feels almost haunted,” observed one man in a quiet voice.
“Somewhat,” agreed the Captain, “but there’s more to it than that.
There’s something deeper. I don’t think this is an evil place. It is a
place that needs to be cleansed.”
The party passed through the great doors. Before they had crossed the
courtyard a man emerged from the far side, carrying a light. The members
of the landing party quickly spread out, and the Captain ordered,
“Halt!”
“Don’t shoot!” came the voice from behind the tiny light across the
room. “I’m unarmed. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Gene Newman. I was the control officer for Lurton Zimbardo.
He’s gone.”
“Come forward slowly, hands up.” Gene walked forward cautiously with his
hands extended over his head, holding his light in one hand. When he was
a few yards away, Captain Marks-Owens ordered him to stop and directed
two men to search him. When it was definite that he was unarmed, she
called him to approach her.
“What’s been going on here?” she asked.
Gene explained that Zimbardo had aimed the asteroid at Earth, burned out
the power system, and fled two hours earlier. The Captain’s face paled
as he told the story.
“Radio the ships that are still en route and have them check the course
of this rock,” she ordered one of the men, who put on his helmet and
contacted the ship. “And tell Mr. Madera to come here at once.” The
order was given.
While they were waiting for Mr. Madera, Captain Marks-Owens quizzed Gene
further. “Why did you stay behind?”
“I--, I joined Putnam’s organization because it seemed a sure thing. He
was captured, but Zimbardo took over and made it seem an even better
proposition. But I could see him getting crazier and crazier! I’m not
ashamed to say that he began to frighten me--and he frightened others,
too! And when he aimed the asteroid toward Earth...” Gene’s eyes widened
and he began to tremble, “I knew there was something seriously wrong
with him! I had to get away! I wanted to fix things--if I could!”
“Are there any others here?”
“I don’t know. There may be. I haven’t seen anyone else. Apart from
Zimbardo and the smugglers, there were seventeen men left on the
asteroid. I don’t know how many went with him. There were also some
prisoners--three Starmen and some asteroid miners, but they escaped from
the room where they were being held and disappeared into the depths of
the asteroid. I don’t know where they are now. We never saw a trace of
them after that.”
“They escaped from the asteroid three weeks ago. In fact, we expect them
to arrive here soon in their own ship.”
Gene’s face showed out-and-out surprise at this news. “They _escaped_?
They got off the asteroid? How did they do that?”
At this point, they were joined by the young man for whom the Captain
had asked. He was about thirty years old, with a full crown of thick
brown hair and deep brown eyes. This was Jesus Madera-Cruz, Chief Ioneer
for Starlight Enterprise. He was adept with engines and
micro-electronics. Noted for a placid nature, nothing ever seemed to
bother him, and his expertise in power systems had never failed the
trust which Richard Starlight had placed in him.
“You asked for me, Captain?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Madera. We need your skills urgently. This is Gene, one of
Zimbardo’s men. Zimbardo has been gone for two hours. Gene tells us that
before he fled he burned out the power. Before the power went out, he
also redirected the asteroid on a collision course with Earth. I’ve
asked our ships outside to confirm that. In the meantime, I’d like you
to check out the power system and see if you can bring it back up.
Obviously, if what Gene says is true, this is a matter of extreme
urgency, not just convenience.”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered the man with a brief nod. The Captain detailed
several men to go with Gene and Madera to wherever Zimbardo’s former
chief control officer wanted to take them. Gene took them first to the
control deck.
Captain Marks-Owens detailed the rest of her men to search the complex
in pairs. As other ships landed, minutes apart from each other, she
directed their crews to the search. After an hour, ten other pirates had
been located. All had been eager to turn themselves in. They were taken
into captivity and led to one of the Space Command ships where they were
fed and kept under guard.
Soon there were over a hundred men searching the facility. Operations
officers began connecting portable power systems to various parts of the
complex to reestablish the lights and get the airlocks working again.
The atmosphere recycling system was not yet accessible, but the air
would last for a long time.
An ensign brought a report to Captain Marks-Owens during the search,
confirming Gene’s account that the asteroid was on a collision course
with Earth.
“Details?” asked the Captain.
“The asteroid will collide with Earth in approximately eight days, at a
speed of nearly 300,000 miles per hour,” responded the ensign. “It was
vastly accelerated for a few minutes before the power burned out, and
the sun’s gravity continues to increase the rate of acceleration. We
have not yet determined precisely where it will strike, but we are
forwarding the data to SE and that will be determined.”
At that point, Gene and Madera came up to Marks-Owens.
“Captain,” said Madera. “I have made a preliminary examination of the
control system. Gene has been more than cooperative, I am happy to say.
With his help, just by looking at the controls and hearing him describe
what Zimbardo did, I can conjecture what kind of power we’re dealing
with. If we can get the power back on, we should not have any difficulty
in changing the course of the asteroid. Restoring the power, however,
will not be easy. Gene has never been to the power plant. In fact, it
seems that no one has, even including Zimbardo. No one knows where it is
or how to learn its location.”
“Go back to the _Tempest_ and contact George St. George and the Starmen.
St. George is on Ceres and the Starmen are in the _Star Ranger_ on their
way here. These men have been inside the power plant and know how to
find it.”
“Yes ma’am.” Madera bowed his head slightly and turned toward the
airlock that led out to the launching pad. He showed no signs whatever
of being ruffled. In sharp contrast, Gene was visibly anxious.
“Gene,” said Captain Marks-Owens; “you’ve apparently been eager to
cooperate. Mr. Madera is easy to get along with but hard to please. If
he commends you, I am satisfied that you are not a threat to us. You go
on to the _Tempest_ also and get some food and some rest, as you need.
We can’t do more until we hear from the Starmen or St. George. We’ll
want you later, and you’ll need to be rested.”
“Yes ma’am,” said the distraught man. He turned toward the SE flagship,
swallowed hard, and stepped toward the airlock. He ran to catch up to
Madera.
Captain Marks-Owens watched them for a moment, then turned her attention
back to the activity of the men who were supplying the temporary power
to the complex before her. The grandeur of the view impressed her.
“This place that seemed so menacing when we first landed is beginning to
look a little less threatening now,” she thought. “Hard to believe we
are aboard a runaway asteroid that will destroy Earth in eight days,
unless we can turn it aside somehow.”