7. Prisoners
Wherever they were planning to take them, the captors took great painsto make sure that their two prisoners did not escape before they wereunderway. Greg and Johnny were strapped down securely into accellerationcots. Two burly guards were assigned to them, and the guards were takingtheir job seriously. One of the two was watching them at all times, andboth men held their stunners on ready.
Meanwhile, under Doc's orders, the crew of the Jupiter Equilateral shipbegan a systematic looting of the orbit-ship they had disabled. Earlierthey had merely searched the cabins and compartments. Now a steadystream of pressure-suited men crossed through the airlocks into thecrippled vessel, marched back with packing cases full of tape records,microfilm spools, stored computer data ... anything that mightconceivably contain information. The control cabin was literally tornapart. Every storage hold was ransacked.
A team of six men was dispatched to the asteroid surface, searching forany sign of mining or prospecting activity. They came back an hourlater, long-faced and empty handed. Doc took their reports, his scowlgrowing deeper and deeper.
Finally the last of the searchers reported in. "Doc, we'd scraped itclean, and there's nothing there. Not one thing that we didn't checkbefore."
"There's _got_ to be something there," Doc said.
"You tell me where else to look, and I'll do it."
Doc shook his head ominously. "Tawney's not going to like it," he said."There's no other place it could be...."
"Well, at least we have this pair," the other said, jerking a thumb atGreg and Johnny. "They'll know."
Doc looked at them darkly. "Yes, and they'll tell, too, or I don't knowTawney."
Greg watched it all happening, heard the noises, saw the packing-casescome through the cabin, and still he could not quite believe it. Hecaught Johnny's eye, then turned away, suddenly sick. Johnny shook hishead. "Take it easy, boy."
"He didn't even have a chance," Greg said.
"I know that. He must have known it too."
"But why? What was he thinking of?"
"Maybe he thought he could make it. Maybe he thought it was the onlychance...."
There was no other answer that Greg could see, and the ache in his chestwas deeper.
There was no way to bring Tom back now. However things had been betweenthem, they could never be changed now. But he knew that as long as hewas still breathing, somebody somehow was going to answer for that lastdesperate run of the _Scavenger_....
* * * * *
It had been an excellent idea, Tom Hunter thought to himself, and it hadworked perfectly, exactly as he had planned it ... so far. But now, ashe clung to his precarious perch, he wondered if it had not worked out alittle too well. The first flush of excitement that he had felt when hesaw the _Scavenger_ blow apart in space had begun to die down now; onits heels came the unpleasant truth, the realization that only the easypart lay behind him so far. The hard part was yet to come, and if thatwere to fail....
He realized, suddenly, that he was afraid. He was well enough concealedat the moment, clinging tightly against the outside hull of the Rangership, hidden behind the open airlock door. But soon the airlock would bepulled closed, and then the real test would come.
Carefully, he ran through the plan again in his mind. He was certain nowthat his reasoning was right. There had been two dozen men on the raidership; there had been no question, even from the start, that they wouldsucceed in boarding the orbit-ship and taking its occupants prisoners.The Jupiter Equilateral ship had not appeared there by coincidence. Theyhad come looking for something that they had not found.
And the only source of information left was Roger Hunter's sons. Thethree of them together might have held the ship for hours, or evendays ... but with engines and radios smashed, there had been no hopeof contacting Mars for help. Ultimately, they would have been taken.
As he had crouched in the dark storage hold in the orbit-ship, Tom hadrealized this. He had also realized that, once captured, they wouldnever have been freed and allowed to return to Mars.
If the three of them were taken, they were finished. But what if onlytwo were taken? He had pushed it aside as a foolish idea, at first. Theboarding party would never rest until they had accounted for all three.They wouldn't dare go back to their headquarters leaving one live manbehind to tell the story....
Unless they thought the third man was dead. If they were sure ofthat ... _certain_ of it ... they would not hesitate to take theremaining two away. And if, by chance, the third man wasn't as dead asthey thought he was, and could find a way to follow them home, theremight still be a chance to free the other two.
It was then that he thought of the _Scavenger_, and knew that he hadfound a way.
In the cabin of the little scout ship he had worked swiftly, fearfulthat at any minute one of the marauders might come aboard to search it.Tom was no rocket pilot, but he did know that the count-down wasautomatic, and that every ship could run on an autopilot, as a drone,following a prescribed course until it ran out of fuel. Even theshell-evasion mechanism could be set on automatic....
Quickly he set the autopilot, plotted a simple high school math coursefor the ship, a course the Ranger ship would be certain to see, and tofire upon. He set the count-down clock to give himself plenty of timefor the next step.
Both the airlock to the _Scavenger_ and to the orbit-ship worked onelectric motors. The _Scavenger_ was grappled to the orbit-ship's hullby magnetic cables. Tom dug into the ship's repair locker, found thewires and fuses that he needed, and swiftly started to work.
It was an ingenious device. The inner airlock door in the orbit-ship wastriggered to a fuse. He had left it ajar; the moment it was closed, byanyone intending to board the _Scavenger_, the fuse would burn, acircuit would open, and the little ship's autopilot would go on active.The ship would blast away from its moorings, head out toward Mars....
And the fireworks would begin. All that he would have to worry aboutthen would be getting himself aboard the Ranger ship without beingdetected.
Which was almost impossible. But he knew there was a way. There was oneplace no one would think to look for him, if he could manage to keep outof range of the viewscreen lenses ... the outer hull of the ship. If hecould clamp himself to the hull, somehow, and manage to cling thereduring blastoff, he could follow Greg and Johnny right home.
He checked the fuse on the airlock once again to make certain it wouldwork. Then he waited, hidden behind the little scout ship's hull,until the orbit-ship swung around into shadow. He checked his suitdials ... oxygen for twenty-two hours, heater pack fully charged,soda-ash only half saturated ... it would do. Above him he could see therear jets of the Ranger. He swung out onto the orbit-ship's hull, andbegan crawling up toward the enemy ship.
It was slow going. Every pressure suit had magnetic boots and hand-padsto enable crewmen to go outside and make repairs on the hull of a shipin transit. Tom clung, and moved, and clung again, trying to reach theprotecting hull of the Ranger before the orbit-ship swung him around tothe sun-side again....
He couldn't move fast enough. He saw the line of sunlight coming aroundthe ship as it swung full into the sun. He froze, crouching motionless.If somebody on the Ranger spotted him now, it was all over. He wasexposed like a lizard on a rock. He waited, hardly daring to breathe, asthe ship spun ponderously around, carrying him into shadow again.
And nothing happened. He started crawling upward again, reached up tograb the mooring cable, and swung himself across to the hull of theRanger. The airlock hung open; he scuttled behind it, clinging to thehull in its shadow just as Greg and Johnny were herded across by theJupiter Equilateral guards.
Then he waited. There was no sound, no sign of life. After a while theRanger's inner lock opened, and a group of men hurried across to theorbit-ship. Probably a searching party, Tom thought. Soon the men cameback, then returned to the orbit-ship. After another minute, he felt thevibration of the _Scavenger_'s motors, and h
e knew that his snare hadbeen triggered.
He saw the little ship break free and streak out in its curvingtrajectory. He saw the homing shells burst from the Ranger's tubes. The_Scavenger_ vanished from his range of vision, but moments later he sawthe sudden flare of light reflected against the hull of the orbit-ship,and he knew his plan had worked, but the ordeal lay ahead.
And at the end of it, he might really be a dead man.
* * * * *
Hours later, the last group of looters left the orbit-ship, and theairlock to the Ranger clanged shut. Tom heard the sucking sound of theair-tight seals, then silence. The orbit-ship was empty, its insidesgutted, its engines no longer operable. The Ranger hung like a longsplinter of silver alongside her hull, poised and ready to move on.
He knew that the time had come. Very soon the blastoff and theaccelleration would begin. He had a few moments to find a position ofsafety, no more.
Quickly, he began scrambling toward the rear of the Ranger's hull,hugging the metal sides, moving sideways like a crab. Ahead, he knew,the viewscreen lenses would be active; if one of them picked him up, itwould be quite a jolt to the men inside the ship ... but it would be theend of his free ride.
But the major peril was the blastoff. Once the engines cut off, the shipwould be in free fall. Then he could cling easily to the hull, walk allover it if he chose to, with the aid of his boots and hand-pads. Butunless he found a way to anchor himself firmly to the hull duringblastoff, he could be flung off like a pebble.
He heard a whirring sound, and saw the magnetic mooring cables jerk. Theship was preparing for blastoff. Automatic motors were drawing thecables and grappling plates into the hull. Moving quickly, Tom reachedthe rear cable. Here was his anchor, something to hold him tight to thehull! With one hand he loosened the web belt of his suit, looped it overa corner of the grappling plate as it pulled in to the hull.
The plate pulled tight against the belt. Each plate fit into a shallowexcavation in the hull, fitting so tightly that the plates were all butinvisible when they were in place. Tom felt himself pulled in tightly asthe plate gripped the belt against the metal, and the whirring of themotor stopped.
For an instant it looked like the answer. The belt was wedgedtight ... he couldn't possibly pull loose without ripping the nylonwebbing of the belt. But a moment later the motor started whirring again.The plate pushed out from the hull a few inches, then started back, againpulling in the belt....
A good idea that just wouldn't work. The automatic machinery on aspaceship was built to perfection; nothing could be permitted tohalf-work. Tom realized what was happening. Unless the plate fitperfectly in its place, the cable motor could not shut off, andpresently an alarm signal would start flashing on the control panel.
He pulled the belt loose, reluctantly. He would have to count on hisboots and his hand-pads alone.
He searched the rear hull, looking for some break in the polished metalthat might serve as a toehold. To the rear the fins flared out,supported by heavy struts. He made his way back, crouching close to thehull, and straddled one of the struts. He jammed his magnetic boots downagainst the hull, and wrapped his arms around the strut with all hisstrength.
Clinging there, he waited.
It wasn't a good position. The metal of the strut was polished andslick, but it was better than trying to cling to the open hull. Hetensed now, not daring to relax for fear that the blastoff accellerationwould slam him when he was unprepared.
Deep in the ship, the engines began to rumble. He felt it ratherthan heard it, a low-pitched vibration that grew stronger and stronger.The Ranger would not need a great thrust to move away from theorbit-ship ... but if they were in a hurry, they might start out atnearly Mars-escape....
The jets flared, and something slammed him down against the fin strut.The Ranger moved out, its engines roaring, accellerating hard. Tom feltas though he had been hit by a ton of rock. The strut seemed to press inagainst his chest; he could not breathe. His hands were sliding, and hefelt the pull on his boots. He tightened his grip desperately. This wasit. He had to hang on, _had_ to hang on....
He saw his boot on the hull surface, sliding slowly, creeping back andstretching his leg, suddenly it broke loose; he lurched to one side, andthe other boot began sliding. There was a terrible ache in his arms, asthough some malignant giant were tearing at him, trying to wrench himloose as he fought for his hold.
There was one black instant when he knew he could not hold on anothersecond. He could see the blue flame of the jet streaming behind him, thecold blackness of space beyond that. It had been a fool's idea, hethought in despair, a million-to-one shot that he had taken, andlost....
And then the pressure stopped. His boots clanged down on the hull, andhe almost lost his hand-grip. He stretched an arm, shook himself, took agreat painful breath, and then clung to the strut, almost sobbing,hardly daring to move.
The ordeal was over. Somewhere, far ahead, an orbit-ship was waiting forthe Ranger to return. He would have to be ready for the braking thrustand the side-maneuvering thrusts, but he would manage to hold on.Crouching against the fin, he would be invisible to viewers on theorbit-ship ... and who would be looking for a man clinging to theoutside of a scout-ship?
Tom sighed, and waited. Jupiter Equilateral would have its prisoners,all right. He wished now that he had not discarded the stunner, butthose extra pounds might have made the difference between life and deathduring the blastoff. And at least he was not completely unarmed. Hestill had Dad's revolver at his side.
He smiled to himself. The pirates would have their prisoners,indeed ... but they would have one factor to deal with that theyhad not counted on.
* * * * *
For Greg it was a bitter, lonely trip.
After ten hours they saw the huge Jupiter Equilateral orbit-ship loomingup in the viewscreen like a minor planet. Skilfully Doc maneuvered theship into the launching rack. The guards unstrapped the prisoners, andhanded them pressure suits.
Moments later they were in a section in crews' quarters where theystripped off their suits. This orbit-ship was much larger than RogerHunter's; the gravity was almost Mars-normal, and it was comforting justto stretch and relax their cramped muscles.
As long as they didn't think of what was ahead.
Finally Johnny grinned and slapped Greg's shoulder. "Cheer up," he said."We'll be honored guests for a while, you can bet on that."
"For a while," Greg said bitterly.
Just then the hatchway opened. "Well, who do we have here?" a familiarvoice said. "Returning a call, you might say. And maybe this time you'llbe ready for a bit of bargaining."
They turned to see the heavy face and angry eyes of Merrill Tawney.