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The Space Rover
By Edwin K. Sloat
[Transcriber's note: This etext was produced from Astounding StoriesFebruary 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Young Winford heads a desperate escape from the prison mines of Mercury.
_Winford leaped out into space along the cable._]
Evan Winford leaned wearily against the controls of the little spacesphere, and stared out of the window at the planet, Mercury, which lay amillion miles sunward. Fail now? He gritted his teeth. No! He wouldwrench victory from Fate after all, even though at this moment mineguards must be searching the nearby mountains, for him and hiscompanions, and a warning was being broadcast to all the planets andspace ships to watch the little prison tender ship, the one that wasused to transfer prisoners from liners out in space to Mercury and itsInterplanetary Council prison mines to which all who were sentenced cameon one-way tickets only. This was the first time, Winford reflectedgrimly, that the sphere had ever carried outbound passengers.
A long, quavering wail sounded from the hold below. Winford scowled.That fellow, Agar, again. Too bad, for he was unquestionably anengineering genius and thoroughly dependable when he didn't get one ofhis spells and imagine he was a godo-dog on the red steppes of hisnative Mars. A little rest and gentle treatment would unquestionablywork wonders. Again the wail, followed this time by a series of growls.
Winford slid open the door that separated the control nest from the holdof the little prison tender ship. The other five men had withdrawn tothe other side of the cabin and were watching listlessly the big,ragged, barrel-chested Martian crouching on all fours against the sideof the cabin and ferociously baring his teeth.
"What's the matter down there?" called Winford sharply.
Six pairs of eyes looked up at him. Agar forgot he was a dog and staredwith the rest. They were an unkempt, ragged lot with unshaven faces andthe dirty, white canvas uniforms of mine prisoners. The group wascomposed of four Martians and two Venusians.
"Let's go back," growled Nizzo, whose squat, powerful body and long armsbespoke his Venus ancestry. "It's death out here. No food. No water,excepting the emergency ration you have up there in the box. That willscarcely last till we can reach Mercury again. Now you tell us that thefuel is nearly exhausted. Let's go back. I say! We don't want to swingabout the Sun in this as our tomb for all eternity. At least we eat anddrink at the mines, even though the whips of the drivers hurry us on toan early death."
"You're crazy, Nizzo," harshly retorted Winford. "You know what they dowhen escaped prisoners are brought back, or come of their own free will.The Universe knows nothing of the caged saurians in the warden'sgardens, nor of the incorrigible prisoners that go to feed them. But Iknow--we all of us know. Far better to remain out here and die whole,than to be devoured alive by a slobbering horror."
A heated argument ensued among the men below. Presently Nizzo looked upagain.
"But you have no plan," he shouted at the Earthman. "We have followedyou blindly so far, and here we are off the traffic lanes. Our only hopeof being picked up now is one of space patrol ships. And short shriftmay we expect from them!"
Winford scowled impatiently.
"Listen, men," he began. "This is a desperate venture, I know, and Ipicked every one of you carefully. You are not common scum of the prisonmines. Every man of you can be depended upon to put through a daringescape of this nature. Every man of you is an innocent victim of therotten politicians and corrupt officials that now hold sway in the ThreePlanets. Take Jarl there, for example." He indicated a big, patient,resigned Martian. "He is under life sentence in the penal mines simplybecause his brother-in-law wanted his lands and wealth. As for myself, Ihad a sister who suffered the misfortune of being seen and coveted bySilas Teutoberg, a member of the Earth Council...."
He choked at the thought, his pale face rigid with emotion. Those belowsaw the flash of his lambent eyes. He controlled himself with an effort,and continued:
"I have said nothing of any plan beyond that of making our escape inthis prison tender off Mercury, but I had a plan behind that. It is truethat we seem to be off the regular traffic lanes, but space linersbetween Venus and Earth just now are cutting in quite close to Mercury,due to the position of the three planets in their orbits. This formedthe basis of the whole venture.
"During the three interplanetary days we have floated out here, I haverepeatedly scanned the Void, thinking every minute we would sight acraft we could reach. But so far luck has been against us. All I ask isthat you do not allow yourselves to be discouraged, for sooner or laterwe'll get a break."
A chorus of enthusiastic approval answered him. Winford sighed withrelief, then stared abruptly through the window and gave a shout. Theothers below swarmed up the ladder and crowded into the tiny controlnest. Winford pointed.
Far off against the black depths of space toward Venus gleamed the tiny,elliptical, silvery hull of a ship, bearing slightly toward them.Although sharply outlined, the craft was hundreds of miles away as themen realized. Winford checked it swiftly through the telescope distancecalculator, determined its speed, and rapidly formed his plan.
"There are plenty of space suits in the lockers," he said tersely. "Getinto them. Stand by the air-lock. You, Jarl, get into the lock and takea cable with an electro-magnet anchor. Lash yourself to it. When I givethe signal by blinking the lights in the lock, open the outer door andleap across to the other ship. I know you risk death from their rays,but it is our only chance. Clamp the anchor against the side of the shipand locate the emergency entrance lock."
"Suppose there is none?" interrupted Jarl stoically.
"Chances are there will be. The interplanetary treaties call for them onmost ships since those five hundred passengers perished trying vainly toenter a liner after their own ship was smashed by a meteor out nearJupiter several years ago. Anyway, it's our only chance. You, Nizzo andRagna, enter the air-lock with Jarl so that if he misses, you can pullhim back. Now hurry. I'll have to maneuver this tub around so that I canapproach the ship, if possible, without being noticed."
* * * * *
The others scuttled back down the ladder, leaving Winford to rapidlywork out his final calculations. The ship, traveling at a rate of sixthousand miles an hour, would miss their little sphere by about ahundred miles. The ship was probably a slow speed freighter, a guessthat was supported by the lack of port-holes in the hull.
It was a ticklish task that Winford faced. He could either approach thefreighter from against the sun, trusting that the navigation officer onduty would fail to notice the dark blot of the little tender against theblinding glare. Or he could get on the far side of the ship and approachit, concealed by its black shadow. He decided on the latter plan.
The freighter was coming up fast. Winford eased the accelerator open,and moved off at right angles to its line of progress to place itbetween him and the sun. If the officer in charge of the freightershould see the tiny dot go shooting presently across his path, he woulddoubtless mistake it for a wandering meteor. As soon as he crossed thepath of the big ship, Winford slowly turned his little craft toward theprotecting shadow of his prospective victim, and picked up speed asquickly as he dared until the little tender was traveling at the samespeed as the freighter. Lucky it was for him that the big craft was nota mail liner, for if it had been, the little ball could never havegained speed enough to equal it.
The shadow of the freighter presently enveloped the little ship, and thetwo hung side by side. Winford eased the tender in toward the big craft,fully realizing th
at the meteor warning dial in the control room of thefreighter would hint at his presence by its pronounced fluctuation. Butthere was no help for it; he could only take the chance that thenavigator in charge would not investigate. Winford peered up anxiouslyat the windows of the control room. Apparently the little craft had notyet been discovered.
* * * * *
Less than a hundred yards now separated the two craft. Winford flashedhis signal to the air-lock. A moment later a dark blob that shut off thelight of the stars in depths below floated across the gap from thetender to the freighter. The electric meter on the control boardregistered a sudden fluctuation as the electro-magnet anchor attacheditself to the hull of the big ship.
Winford snapped off the propulsion beams, seized two ray pistols thatlay on the chart table, and ducked down the ladder. His companions werestanding before the inner door of