"I can tell you the way out of the base."
Adjusting the plastic helmet over his head, Carson stepped up close to
Astro and Tom and spoke confidently. "It's very simple."
"Whew!" exclaimed Tom. "I thought we'd have to go fumbling around."
Carson pointed through the darkness. "Follow this lane straight down
until you come to a large repair lock. There's a space freighter on the
maintenance cradle outside. You can't miss it. Turn left and follow a
trail to the base of the canyon wall. There are jungle creepers and
vines growing up the side and you can climb them easily."
Tom nodded and repeated the directions, then turned to Astro. "Maybe
you'd better stay here, Astro. I can make it alone."
"No." Connel spoke sharply from the doorway. "Astro speaks Venusian. If
you're stopped, he can speak for you. You'd give yourself away."
"Very well, sir," said Tom. "I guess that is best. Ready to go, Astro?"
"Ready," replied the big cadet.
"Good-by, Major," said Tom, reaching into the doorway to shake hands
with Connel. "I'll try my best."
"It's a matter of life and death, Tom." Connel's voice was low and
husky. "Not our lives, or the lives of a few people, but the life and
death of the Solar Alliance."
"I understand, sir." Tom turned to Astro and the two cadets marched off
quickly.
They had no difficulty finding the giant ship on the cradles outside the
repair shop and quickly turned toward the base of the cliff. Twenty
minutes later they had left the center of activity and were close to the
canyon wall. They were congratulating themselves on their luck in not
being stopped or questioned when suddenly they saw a guard ahead of them
on sentry duty.
"Ill take care of him," whispered Astro. "You hide here in the shadows,
and when I whistle, you start climbing. Then I'll cover you from there
until you get to the top. Got it?"
"Right!" The two cadets shook hands briefly. Each knew that there was no
need to speak of their feelings. "Take care of Roger," said Tom. "We
don't know how badly he's been injured."
"I'll see to him," said Astro. "Watch me now and wait for my whistle."
He turned away and then paused to call back softly, "Spaceman's luck,
Tom."
"Same to you, Astro," replied Tom, and then crouched tensely in the
shadows.
The big cadet walked casually toward the sentry, who spotted him
immediately and brought his gun up sharply, calling a challenge in the
Venusian tongue.
"A friend," replied Astro in the same dialect.
The sentry lowered the gun slightly. "What are you doing out here?" he
asked suspiciously.
"Just taking a walk," said Astro. "Looking for something."
"What?" asked the sentry.
"Trying to make a connection."
"A connection? What kind of connection?"
"This kind!" said Astro suddenly, chopping the side of his hand down on
the sentry's neck, between the helmet and his uniform collar.
The sentry fell to the ground like a poleaxed steer and lay still. Astro
grinned, then turned and went whistling off into the darkness. Twenty
feet away Tom heard the signal and hurried to the base of the cliff. He
grabbed a thick vine and pulled himself upward, hand over hand. Halfway
up he found a small ledge and stopped to rest. Below him, he could see
Astro hurrying back toward the center of the base. The dim lights and
the distant hum of activity assured him that so far his escape was
unnoticed. He resumed his climb, and fifteen minutes later the
curly-haired cadet stood on the canyon rim. After another short rest he
turned and plunged into the jungle.
Tom knew that as long as he kept the planet of Earth over his right
shoulder, while keeping the distant star of Regulus ahead of him, he was
traveling in the right direction to Sinclair's plantation. He stopped to
check his bearings often, occasionally having to climb a tree to see
over the top of the jungle. He ignored the threat of an attack by a
jungle beast. For some reason it did not present the danger it had when
he had first entered the jungle, seemingly years before. Under pressure,
the cadet had become skilled in jungle lore and moved with amazing
speed. He kept the blaster ready to fire at the slightest movement, but
fortunately during the first night he encountered nothing more dangerous
than a few furry deerlike animals that scampered behind him off the
trail.
Morning broke across the jungle in a sudden burst of sunlight. The air
was clear and surprisingly cool, and Tom felt that he could make the
Sinclair plantation by nightfall if he continued pushing full speed
ahead.
He stopped once for a quick meal of the last of the synthetics that he
had stuffed in his pocket from his shoulder pack, and then continued in
a steady, ground-eating pace through the jungle. Late in the afternoon
he began to recognize signs of recent trail blazing, and once he cut
across the path Astro had made. He wondered if the trail was one Astro
had cut while he was lost, or previously. He finally decided to go ahead
on his own, since he had managed to come this far without the aid of any
guide markers.
As the darkening shadows of night began to spread over the jungle the
young cadet began to worry. He had been allowed thirty-six hours to make
it back to the _Polaris_, communicate with Commander Walters, and tell
him the position of the base, and Tom had to allow time for the Solar
Guard fleet to assemble and blast off, so that it would arrive at the
base at exactly noon on the next day. He had to reach the Sinclair
plantation before nightfall or the fleet would never make it.
Suddenly to his left he heard a noisy crashing of underbrush and the
roar of a large beast. Tom hesitated. He could hide; he could fight; or
he could break to his right and try to escape. The beast growled
menacingly. It had picked up his scent. Tom was sure it was a large
beast on the prowl for food, and he decided that he could not waste time
hiding, or risk being injured in a battle with the jungle prowler. He
quickly broke to his right and raced through the jungle. Behind him, the
beast picked up the chase, the ground trembling with its approach. It
began to gain on him. Tom was suddenly conscious of having lost his
bearings. He might be running away from the clearing!
Still he ran on, legs aching and lungs burning. He charged through the
underbrush that threatened any moment to trip him. When he was almost at
the point of complete exhaustion, and ready to turn and face the beast
behind him, he saw something that renewed his spirit and sent new
strength through his body. Ahead through the vines and creepers, the
slender nose of the _Polaris_ was outlined against the twilight sky.
Disregarding the beast behind him, he plunged through the last few feet
of jungle undergrowth and raced into the clearing around the Sinclair
home. Behind him, the beast suddenly stopped growling, and when Tom
reached the air lock of the _Polaris_, he saw that the beast had turned
back, reluctant to come out of the protection of the jungle.
Tom pulled the air-lock port open and was about to step inside when he
heard a harsh voice coming from the shadow of the port stabilizer.
"Just stop right where you are!"
Tom jerked around. Rex Sinclair stepped out of the shadow, a paralo-ray
gun in his hand.
"Mr. Sinclair!" cried Tom, suddenly relieved. "Boy, am I glad to see
you!" He jumped to the ground. "Don't you recognize me? Cadet Corbett!"
[Illustration: _"Mr. Sinclair!" cried Tom, suddenly relieved_]
"Yes, I recognize you," snarled Sinclair. "Get away from that air lock
or I'll blast you!"
Tom's face expressed the confusion he felt. "But, Mr. Sinclair, you're
making a mistake. I've got to get aboard and warn--" He stopped. "What's
the idea of holding a paralo ray on me?"
"You're not warning anybody!" Sinclair waved the gun menacingly. "Now
get over to the house and walk slowly with your hands in the air or I'll
freeze you solid!"
Stunned by this sudden turn of events, Tom turned away from the air
lock. "So you're one of them, too," said Tom. "No wonder we were caught
in the jungle. You knew we were looking for the base."
"Never mind that," snapped Sinclair. "Get into the house and make it
quick!"
The young cadet walked slowly toward the house. He saw the charred
remains of the burned outbuildings and nodded. "So it was all an act,
eh? You had your buildings burned to throw us off the track. Small price
to pay to remain in the confidence of the Solar Guard."
"Shut up!" growled Sinclair.
"You might be able to shut me up, but it'll take a lot more than a bunch
of rabble rousers to shut up the Solar Guard!"
"We'll see," snapped Sinclair.
They reached the house and Tom climbed the steps slowly, hoping the
planter would come close enough for a sudden attack, but he was too
careful. They moved into the living room and Tom stopped in surprise.
George Hill and his wife were tied hand and foot to two straight-backed
chairs.
Tom gasped. "George! Mrs. Hill!"
George Hill strained against his bonds and mumbled something through the
gag in his mouth, but Tom couldn't understand what he was trying to say.
Mrs. Hill just looked at the planter with wide, frightened eyes. The
cadet whirled around angrily. "Why, you dirty little space rat!"
Sinclair didn't hesitate. He squeezed the trigger of his paralo-ray gun
and Tom stiffened into rigidity.
The planter dropped the ray gun into a chair and leisurely began to tie
the hands and feet of the immobilized cadet.
"Since you can hear me, Corbett," said Sinclair, "and since you are
powerless to do anything about what I'm about to tell you, I'm going to
give you a full explanation. I owe it to you. You've really worked for
it."
Unable to move a muscle, Tom nevertheless could hear the planter
clearly. He mentally chided himself at his stupidity in allowing himself
to be captured so easily.
Sinclair continued, "My original invitation to you and your friends, to
use my home as a base for your hunting operations was sincere. I had no
idea you were in any way connected with the investigation the Solar
Guard was planning to make into the Nationalist movement."
Tom was completely bound now, and the planter stepped back, picked up
the ray gun, and flipping on the neutralizer, released the cadet from
the effects of the ray charge. Tom shuddered involuntarily, his nerves
and muscles quivering as life suddenly flowed into them again. He
twisted at the bonds on his wrists, and to his amazement found them
slightly loose. He was sure he could work his hands free, but decided to
wait for a better opportunity. He glanced at the clock on the wall near
by and saw that it was nine in the evening. Only fifteen hours before
the Solar Guard must attack!
Sinclair sat down casually in a chair and faced the cadet. George and
Mrs. Hill had stopped struggling and were watching their employer.
"Do you know anything about the bomb we found on the _Polaris_ on our
trip to Venus?" asked Tom.
"I planned that little surprise myself, Corbett," said Sinclair.
"Unfortunately our agents on Earth bungled it."
"It seems to me that was pretty stupid. There would have been another
man sent in Major Connel's place, and we were warned that something big
was in the wind."
"Ah, quite so, Corbett," said Sinclair. "But the destruction of the
_Polaris_ would have caused no end of speculation. There would have been
an investigation which would have temporarily removed the spotlight from
the Nationalist movement. That would have given us ample time to
complete our preparations for the attack."
"Then you knew," said Tom bitterly, "when Major Connel, Roger, Astro,
and I left here that we were going to be captured."
"Well, that was one of the details of the final plan. Personally, I
hoped that you and your nosy major would meet a more dramatic and
permanent end in the jungle."
"What are you going to do with us?" asked Tom, glancing at George and
his wife. "And what do Mr. and Mrs. Hill have to do with your scheme?"
"Unfortunately they discovered who I am, and of course had to be taken
care of. As to your eventual disposition, I haven't had time to think
about that."
"Well, you'd better start thinking," said Tom. "And you'd better do a
good job when you attack the Solar Guard. Perhaps you don't know it,
Sinclair, but the whole pattern of the Solar Guard is one of defense. We
do not invite attack, but are prepared for it. And we have the power to
counterattack!"
"When we get through with your Solar Guard, Corbett," sneered Sinclair,
"there won't be anything left but smoldering heaps of junk and the dead
bodies of stupid men!"
The buzz of a teleceiver suddenly sounded in another part of the house
and Sinclair left the room quickly. When he was sure the planter was out
of earshot, Tom turned to George and whispered, "I think I can work my
hands loose. Where can I find a ray gun?" George began to mumble
frantically but Tom couldn't understand him, and the sound of returning
footsteps silenced Hill. The planter strode back into the room,
hurriedly putting on the green uniform of the Nationalists. "I've just
received word of a speed-up in the preparations for our attack," he
said. "Soon, Corbett--soon you will see what will happen to the Solar
Guard!"
[Illustration]