_When Dave Carter tried to rescue the Denebians
he found himself in a den of thieves. And he had
cause to remember Shakespeare's observation: "He
who steals my purse steals trash."_
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Fantastic February 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The first thing that crossed Dave Carter's mind was that the SOS was
some kind of hoax. Then a fist thudded into the back of his neck, and
he knew it was worse than a hoax--it was a trap.
His knees sagged and he grabbed wildly for the side of his spaceship.
Steadying himself, he struck out with a fist.
His unknown assailant grunted. Carter's eyes widened as he discovered
he was fighting another Earthman, here on this alien world in the Deneb
system. _What the devil is this?_ Carter asked himself, as his fist
crashed into the other's stomach. _They ask me to come rescue them--and
then they jump me from behind._
The man was wearing the gray-and-gold uniform of the missing
_Vanguard_ expedition. He was a big, rangy spaceman. His eyes glittered
with a cold menace that Carter had never seen in human eyes before.
Carter reached back, grasped the rungs of the ladder behind him with
both hands, and kicked out at the other. The man crumpled backward onto
the ground. Carter ran over to him.
He put a knee on the other's chest. "Who are you?" he demanded.
No answer.
"Why'd you send out an SOS?" Carter demanded.
The other man glared coldly at him without replying.
Carter pulled him to a sitting position and slapped him, twice, hard.
"Answer me! You're from the _Vanguard_ expedition, aren't you?"
"Yes." The voice sounded steely, metallic.
"Then why'd you jump me? I picked up your SOS and came down here to
rescue you! Answer me!"
"You'll know the answers soon enough."
Carter shook his head angrily. "I want to know right now. Where are the
other members of the expedition?"
"They are here. They are all safe."
Pulling the other to his feet, Carter drew his blaster and said,
"Suppose you take me to them--right now. I want some explanation of all
this. Move!"
* * * * *
An hour before, Carter had been in space, traveling alone from the Base
Hospital on Rigel IV toward Ophiuchus VII. He expected to spend his
period of convalescence there. Ophiuchus VII was a low-grav world set
aside as a vacation planet for recuperating invalids.
Carter had been injured in a reactor explosion aboard the Starship
_Alpha Centauri_, where he had been navigator. He came out of that
pretty lightly--radiation burns, a fractured skull, and little other
damage. Some skin grafts and a complicated titanium-plate rebuild had
his body and his skull as good as new within weeks. He was on his way
to Ophiuchus to rest up before returning to spaceline duty.
But his flight was interrupted when his detectors picked up an SOS as
he passed the Deneb system.
"SOS! SOS! General rescue call!"
It was coming over on a wide-beam cast. Carter localized it on Deneb
IV, an unexplored world, and replied, "I hear you. Who's this?"
"Survey Ship _Vanguard_. We're in trouble."
"How many are you?"
"Twelve, altogether. Urgent that you rescue us."
Carter glanced around his small ship. Its maximum capacity was fifteen;
he could just about make it. "I'll be right down," he said. "Give me
landing coordinates."
They read off a string of figures and he computed an orbit. Minutes
later, he had set his ship down in the exact spot they had selected,
only to find the planet bare of life and no Earthmen in sight.
He had looked around, puzzled. Then the rangy spaceman had struck him
from behind.
And now, Carter was following his captive through a wild, untamed
jungle, heading into some strange mystery at whose nature he could only
guess. The titanium plate in his skull was beginning to itch faintly as
he moved deeper and deeper into the jungle.
After a while, signs of inhabitation began to appear. Carter spotted
the golden hull of a spaceship towering above the trees, and touched
his guide's arm. "Is that the _Vanguard_?"
"Yes."
Behind the ship, Carter could now see a large clearing, and people
moving around in it, clad in the uniform of the Survey Division of
the Intergalactic Federation. There was a building in the background,
square and dull-gray.
A man stepped forward to meet them. He was distinguished-looking and
wore the uniform of a Squadron Leader.
"I'm Gendron," he said. "Commander of the _Vanguard_."
"The name's Dave Carter, navigator, late of Starship _Alpha Centauri_.
I picked up your SOS call."