There was air now. Great gulps of it. Someone had thrown back Curt's
helmet, and he could hear the steady thrum of the airostat. It was
beautiful music.
Kueelo had recovered, and Rikert. And a fourth man was there. As
Curt came to his feet he heard Rikert's voice, a little suspicious,
addressing the stranger.
"You! You're not Landreth. I thought we were going to meet--"
"Disappointed? Get going then! Back where you came from!" The
stranger's voice was like a whiplash. He held an electro in his
hard-knuckled fist. Rikert became silent.
"So. You'd like to see Landreth, eh?"
Rikert grinned, wet his lips a little. "Sure would! Don't get me wrong,
mister. There's one man I'd like to join up with, if he's operating
again!"
Curt watched the stranger, saw him grin as though secretly amused at
Rikert's words.
"Later!" the man said. "Right now get this through your heads, all of
you. Your lives were forfeit at the mines, and that isn't altered by
your being here! I'll blast the first one who makes a wrong move." He
gestured with the gun, surveyed them coldly. "Good. Now you will strip.
Put your clothes over here."
He went carefully through their clothes, found nothing in Curt's or
Kueelo's. But from a secret pocket in Rikert's leather suit he brought
forth a deadly needle-gun. A smile creased his dark, thin face.
"You won't need _this_ where you are going." The spaceman pocketed the
needle-gun then turned suddenly on Curt, sharp eyes going over him.
"Up! Up with that left arm!"
Too late Curt remembered the thin disc fastened under his arm-pit,
identifying him as an investigator for the Federation Prison-Board.
He had adopted that merely as a cover-up. Actually his mission for
DeHarries was far more important! Now Curt shrugged, tore the disc away
from the paper-thin duroplast fastening.
"So," the spaceman purred, examining it. "You were sent here by the
Prison-Board! And we thought no one was aware of the missing prisoners."
"Well I'll be damned," Rikert said, half in anger, staring at Curt. "If
I'd known who you really were, Emmons--"
"You'd have come just the same!" Curt said icily.
"It really doesn't matter who you are," the man with the gun said
softly, surveying Curt's well-muscled figure and clear eyes. "Yes, I'm
glad you came. You're the type we need. This one too," he nodded at
Rikert.
He turned his gaze upon Kueelo. "But I can't understand why you brought
_this_ one! Well, we shall find a use for him."
At the insult, quick points of fire appeared in Kueelo's eyes. Curt
flashed him a warning look. Kueelo set his lips tightly.
"My name," the other was saying, "is Jeffers. Dress quickly now.
Captain Landreth will want to see you, then we'll be on our way."
It became apparent to Curt that this was no ordinary spacer! It was
small and trim, with a suggestion of untold speed. If the ship carried
weapons, they were kept well under cover. Jeffers led them along a
single corridor with staterooms on either side.
"Where's the crew?" Rikert asked.
"You three are the crew. Beyond that there's just me--and Captain
Landreth." Again Curt had the feeling that Jeffers was secretly amused.
He ushered them into a compartment near the control-room.
Curt stood quite still for a moment, staring around. The room was a
dream. Magnificent tapestries, interwoven with _kra_ plumes, covered
the walls. Beneath his feet an imperial Martian rug was a splash of
vari-colored splendor. He saw furniture of extinct _jragua_ wood,
inlaid with mosaics of semi-precious stones.
Then Curt's eyes widened, as he gazed across the room and saw the
person who rose to greet them.
She was tall, for a girl. Auburn hair brushed smoothly back from her
forehead fell in waves to the shoulders of a close-fitting uniform. Her
eyes were blue but unsmiling, her lips smiled thinly but didn't mean it.
"I am Lorine Landreth," she said without emotion. "If you must be
amazed, please do it quickly. We have work to do!"
* * * * *
Curt was beyond being amazed. Thoughtfully his gaze took in her trim
figure, the pale but determined face, the electro held loosely in a
belt at her waist. She gave the impression of knowing how to use it.
"Captain Landreth, I presume." Curt's voice was serious. "George
Landreth's daughter?"
"Correct! On both counts." She turned to Jeffers. "You made it clear
that their status is not altered by their being here?"
"Of course. Don't worry, I'll see that they remember it, Lorine."
Her eyes blazed quickly. "Captain to you! See that you remember _that_
Jeffers!"
He nodded, smiling with faint insolence as he leaned against the door.
The girl turned back to the three prisoners.
"There is one difference. At the Prison mines you worked hard. And
for a life-time. And you died. You will work where we are going,
too--perhaps not so hard, but dangerously! You may die, but at least
I offer you a chance. If we succeed in our mission, you are free men.
Free to change your identities and go where you will."
"That's okay by me, miss!" Rikert was enthusiastic. "Er, I
mean--Captain. But look! Don't we get to see Landreth, George Landreth?
I was counting on--"
The girl turned a gaze upon Rikert which reduced him to silence.
"It is my wish that we all may see George Landreth! I may as well
tell you now. The purpose of our mission--is to find my father."
For the merest instant, Curt saw a deepening look in her eyes which
dissolved the mask of hardness. She turned quickly away, seized a
sheaf of papers. "We are wasting time here! Jeffers! Show them their
assignments." Kueelo and Rikert followed the man from the room. Curt
hesitated, then stepped into the control-room where the girl had gone.
He may have been mistaken, but for a moment she had shown signs of
being almost human.
Curt stood silent, watching her at the navigator's table. She consulted
pencilled data on the papers, then swiftly, with practised fingers,
she adjusted the sliding sheathes on the robot control. At last it was
finished. She glanced up, saw him watching.
"Venus!" Curt exclaimed. "So that's where we're going!"
Her blue eyes surveyed him coolly. "So. You can read a robot-wheel, can
you? What else can you do?"
"Around a spaceship, almost anything. Tubes, controls, magnibeams,
calculations and differential, any weapon you care to mention--"
"That will do." Her narrow eyes narrowed. "I don't like men with me in
space who know more about a ship than I do! Suppose you help Jeffers in
the rocket-room."
"Very well, Captain. But about your father--"
"Later!"
Curt nodded, looked at her a moment, then hurried to the rocket-room.
Jeffers said brusquely, "Do you understand magnetic stabilizers,
Emmons?"
"Sure."
"Help me with these, then."
As Curt worked, his mind went back across the years, tying together
threads of stories he had heard. Stories about George Landreth, one
of the first men to open up the rich new territory on Callisto. He
had brought his wife there from Earth. He struck a rich iridium vein
and worked it slowly, alone. Until the Earth Corporations stepped in.
Landreth defied them to the bitter end. His wife died unpleasantly....
There the stories varied. Some said that Landreth placed his daughter
in the hands of relatives on Earth, before he turned pirate. Others
said the girl stayed with her father, learning every trick of the
spaceways. One thing was clear: throughout the years Landreth gathered
lawless men about him. More than one Corporation had gone to ruin under
the incessant attacks of an enemy who had achieved a ruthlessness
equal to their own! Then the attacks ceased. Landreth seemed to have
disappeared.
* * * * *
Curt thrust these questions from his mind. At last the stabilizers
and rocket-feeds were ready. Jeffers signalled the control-room,
and a moment later they swept upward. Endless miles away, near the
twilight-strip, Curt could see a faint pin-point glow of a Mercurian
city. He turned to Jeffers.
"One question, Jeffers. What happened to the other men you rescued from
the Federation Prison?"
"We've only pulled this stunt once before. The others died."
"On Venus?"
Jeffers looked sharply at Curt, then shrugged. "Sure, on Venus. We'll
arrive there in exactly three days."
Rikert came up, wiping his hands on a piece of waste. "You know," he
grinned, "even at the Prison word had a way of reaching us. Any truth
to these stories about Aladdian throwing a guard around Venus?"
"We may run into the Imperial Guard. But I doubt if they'll have many
patrollers where _we're_ going."
"Yeah? Where is that?"
Jeffers' dark face grinned at them. "Right into the K'Yarthan Swamp!" A
sudden cry reached them from beyond the rocket-room. Lorine Landreth's
voice! Curt was first to reach the corridor, then he stopped dead in
his tracks.
They saw Kueelo, standing spraddle-legged in the middle of the
corridor. An electro was in his hand. He turned it quickly toward the
three men, and they fell back.
"He sneaked behind me and got my gun! Watch him, Jeffers, he'll use
it!" The warning came from the girl. Curt saw her crouching out of
range near a stateroom door, on the other side of Kueelo. "He can't
cover us both. Easy, Jeffers."
"Get his gun, Emmons. Quick!" The Martian's voice came in an excited
high pitch.
Curt saw Jeffers easing behind him, away from the line of fire;
glimpsed his hand as it went for his gun. Curt whirled away, sliced
his hand downward into Jeffers' wrist. The electro flamed once, then
clattered to the floor. Jeffers leaped for it, but Curt threw his broad
shoulders into a block that hurled the man aside. Then he came up with
the gun, and backed towards Kueelo.
"Nice going, Emmons. Get to those controls! I'll keep them covered."
They were not quite free of Mercury's gravity, Curt realized as he felt
the spacer surge erratically, threatening to go into a spin. He saw the
tight smile on Kueelo's lips.
"Hurry, Emmons! We've got the ship now!"
Curt surged past the Martian. Then he whirled, clamped his free hand
across the frail wrist holding the electro. A single twist, and
Kueelo's fingers opened. Curt held both weapons.
"Get to those controls!" he snapped at Lorine Landreth.
She stared at him in blank astonishment, then leaped to the controls.
A moment later the ship straightened out, and they were in free space.
Kueelo's eyes were blazing pools of hate as he gazed at Curt Emmons.
Curt ignored him, turned to Jeffers and tossed him his weapon. "Here,
put this away. I guess Kueelo can't wait to get back to Mars--but I'll
settle for the K'Yarthan Swamp."
Jeffers levelled the electro. "The other gun, Emmons. It goes to
Captain Landreth! Quick!"
Curt shrugged, walked forward and handed it to her.
She flashed him a smile. "Thanks for what you did, Emmons." She came
and faced Kueelo, surveyed him coldly. "Little man, can't you wait to
die? Let me assure you--another trick like that and you'll never see
Mars again!"
Kueelo stalked away, eyes still blazing hatred.