On the Trail of the Space Pirates

by Carey Rockwell

  CHAPTER 8

  "See that fellow over there, Steve?" whispered Tom. "The one with thescar on his face?"

  "Yeah," replied the disguised Solar Guard officer. "I've been watchinghim too. And I think he's had his eye on us."

  Tom and Captain Strong were sitting in a small restaurant near thespaceport, drinking Martian water and discussing the shadowy charactersthat lounged around the stuffy little room.

  "I'll walk over to the bar," said Strong. "Maybe he doesn't want to talkto two of us together. You go over and see if you can strike up aconversation."

  "Good idea, sir--uh--Steve," said Tom.

  Strong got up and with an exaggerated swagger walked to the small bar.From the mirror in back of the bar, he could see Tom rise and saunterover to the man who sat on the opposite side of the room.

  For three days, Roger, Astro, Tom, and Strong had wandered through thebars, restaurants, and cheap hotels of Spaceman's Row in Luna Citysearching for information that would lead them to Wallace and Simms.Each night they returned to the freighter to exchange, sift, and analyzethe bits of information gathered, but for three nights they had come upwith a total of nothing. Finally, Strong had decided that this would bethe last night they would spend in Luna City. It was after making thisdecision that he and Tom spotted the scar-faced man sitting alone in onecorner.

  _The scar-faced man obviously wanted something from Tom_]

  Strong saw Tom stop at the table, say a few words, then sit down andorder drinks. Tom and the scar-faced man continued their conversation,now leaning across the table talking in whispers, stopping only longenough for the waiter to serve the drinks. Strong noticed that thescar-faced man paid for them and smiled to himself. That was a step inthe right direction. He obviously wanted something from Tom.

  Suddenly the young cadet looked up and motioned for him to come over tothe table. Strong merely lounged against the bar and nodded carelessly.Taking his time, he finished his glass of Martian water, then swaggeredacross the crowded room to the table.

  Tom glanced up casually and then turned to his companion at the table."This is my skipper," he said. "Name's Steve. You gotta job to do,Steve'll do it. Anything, anywhere, any time," he paused, and then addedwith a smirk, "for a _price_!"

  The scar-faced man looked up at Steve. His eyes traced a pattern overthe tall man, noting the broad shoulders, the piercing eyes, and thebulge of a paralo-ray gun in his jacket. He pushed a chair back with afoot and managed a smile in spite of the scar that twisted his featuresinto an ugly mask. "Sit down, Steve. My name's Pete."

  Strong accepted the invitation silently. At close range, he saw the manwas more disfigured than he had noticed from the bar. The scar on hisface reached from his left ear across his cheek and down to his neck.Pete saw him looking at the scar and smiled again. "Funny thing aboutscars. I got one, but I don't have to look at it. I just stay away frommirrors and I remember myself as I was before I got it. So look all youwant. You're the one that's got to suffer for it."

  Ignoring the man's bitter tone of voice, Strong growled, "I'm notinterested in what you look like. You got something to haul; we got aship to haul it. Name your cargo and destination, and we'll name aprice."

  "Ain't as simple as that," said Pete craftily. "I gotta know more aboutyou before we talk business."

  "What for instance?" asked Strong.

  "For instance, who do you know on Spaceman's Row that can give you areference?"

  Tom spoke up quickly without looking at Strong. "Suppose I told you Ihelped pull a job a couple of weeks ago that was worth a hundredthousand credits?" He settled back, casually glancing at Strong andreceiving an imperceptible nod in return.

  "A hundred thousand, eh?" said Pete with interest. "Not bad, not bad.What kind of a job was it?"

  "Me and two other guys held up the Credit Exchange at the SolarExposition at Venusport."

  "Oh?" Pete was becoming extremely curious. "You in on the job too,Steve?"

  Before Strong could answer, Tom spoke quickly. "No, I bought a halfinterest in Steve's ship with my share of the take." Strong could hardlykeep from smiling, so easily was the young cadet's tale growing.

  "Then who _was_ in on this job with you?" persisted the scar-faced man."You look pretty young to pull a big job like that."

  Tom glanced around the room and then leaned over the table beforewhispering, "Gus Wallace and Luther Simms."

  "What?" exclaimed Pete. "Gus Wallace? A guy about six feet tall and twohundred pounds? Has a heavy rough voice?"

  "That's the one," said Tom.

  Pete's arm shot across the table like a snake and he grabbed Tom by thejacket. "Where is he?" he asked through clenched teeth.

  No sooner had Pete touched Tom than Strong had his paralo-ray gunleveled at the scar-faced man. "Take your hands off him," he saidcoldly, "or I'll freeze you right where you are!"

  Pete relaxed his grip and settled back into his chair. He glared at Tomand then at Strong.

  "All right," snapped Strong. "Now _you_ talk!"

  Pete didn't say anything. Strong inched closer to the scar-faced manmenacingly. "I said _talk_! Why do you want to know where Gus Wallaceis? Maybe you're Solar Guard, eh? Trying to play a little trick on us.How do I know you haven't got a squad of MP's outside waiting to pick usup?"

  Pete began to shift nervously. "You got me all wrong, Steve. I ain'tSolar Guard."

  "Why do you want to know where Gus Wallace is, then?" Strong persisted.

  Pete hesitated and had to be prodded with the paralo-ray gun again byStrong. "Talk!" hissed Strong.

  "You see this scar?" asked Pete. "Well, two years ago, on Spaceman's Rowin Marsopolis, Gus slashed me in a fight. I swore I'd do the same forhim when I caught him, but he's been running from me ever since."

  "Marsopolis, eh?" asked Strong. "Two years ago?"

  "Yeah."

  "I think you're lying! You're Solar Guard."

  "Honest, Steve," whined Pete. "That's the only reason I want him. Askanybody. It happened in the Spacelanes Bar on New Denver Avenue. I betthere are five guys here right now who heard about it!"

  Strong got up, pushing the gun back in his belt.

  "Come on, Tom. I don't like the way your friend Pete answers questions."

  "Wait a minute!" Pete rose from his chair, protesting.

  Strong whirled around and faced the scar-faced man. "If I were you,Pete," he muttered, "I'd sit still and not ask any more questions. Itisn't healthy!"

  Without another word Strong walked out of the dingy restaurant. Tomshrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture and followed, leaving Petealone and worried.

  Outside in the street, his face bathed in the garish light of the vaporstreet lights, Strong stopped to wipe his forehead.

  "Whew!" he gasped. "We certainly bulled our way through that one!"

  "I felt the same way," said Tom. "But at least we have something to goon. You think he was suspicious?"

  "No, Tom. He was so scared when I accused him of being tied up with theSolar Guard it threw him completely off stride."

  "Well? Where do we go from here?" asked Tom.

  "Back to the ship," replied Strong. "And as soon as Astro and Roger showup, we blast off for Marsopolis. Our next target is a joint called theSpacelanes!"

  * * * * *

  Against a backdrop of shimmering stars that studded the velvet blackemptiness of space, the freighter _Dog Star_ rocketed toward the redplanet of Mars carrying the four spacemen on the next step of theirsearch. Relaxing from the three arduous days on the Moon and able to bethemselves once more, Strong and the three cadets rested and discussedevery detail of their stay in Luna City. It was finally decided thattheir only real chance of tracing Wallace and Simms lay in theSpacelanes Bar. As they approached Mars, Strong outlined their nextmove.

  "We'll do the same thing as we did in Luna City," he said. "Split up.Only this time, we'll all go to the same place, the Spacelanes. Tom andI will go in first and do most of the nosing arou
nd. Astro and Rogerwill drift in later and hang around, just in case there's trouble."

  The three cadets nodded their understanding, and when Strong turned tothe teleceiver to make his report to Commander Walters at Space Academy,they took their stations for touchdown at Marsopolis.

  His face impassive on the teleceiver screen, Commander Walters listenedto Strong's report, and when the Solar Guard officer finished, hegrunted his satisfaction.

  "Do you have any news on Wallace and Simms, sir?" asked Strong.

  "Yes, but my news isn't as good as yours," frowned Walters. "They'vealready made use of their knowledge of the light-key. They held up aSolar Guard transport en route to Titan and emptied her armory. Theytook a couple of three-inch atomic blasters and a dozen paralo-ray gunsand rifles. Opened the energy lock with their adjustable light-key aseasily as if it had been a paper bag. It looks as though they're settingthemselves up for a long siege."

  "Do you have any idea where they might be hiding, sir?"

  "Somewhere in the asteroid belt, I believe," replied the commander."They headed for the belt after they held up the transport."

  "Well, we'll do what we can from our end, sir," said Strong. "Since Marsis closer to the asteroid belt than any other planet, they might beusing Marsopolis as a hangout. Or someone might have seen themrecently."

  "Use whatever plan you think best, Steve. I'm counting on you."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Spaceman's luck! End transmission."

  "End transmission," replied Strong and flipped off the screen.

  Fifteen minutes later, the _Dog Star_ settled on a blast-scorched rampat the Marsopolis spaceport, and after a hasty review of their plans,the four spacemen left the ship. Strong had a brief argument with acustoms officer over a personal search for small arms. They were forcedto leave their paralo-ray guns on the ship. Disgruntled, as far as thecustoms agents were concerned, Strong was actually pleased with thesuccess of their disguise as merchant spacemen.

  Tom and Strong found the Spacelanes Bar in the roughest and darkestsection of Marsopolis. It was large and almost empty. But Tom noted thatit was just like many other such places he had been in in Luna City. Thewalls were scarred and dirty, the floor littered, and the tables andchairs looking as if they had been used in a hundred fights. Behind abar that ran the length of one wall, a heavy-set man with beady blackeyes watched their approach.

  "What's your pleasure, spacemen?" asked the bartender in a gruff voice.

  Strong hesitated a moment and decided to play all his cards at one turn."We'll have a thousand credits worth of information."

  The barman's eyes narrowed into black slits. "What kind of informationwould bring that kind of a price?" he asked.

  "Information about a man," said Strong.

  "What man?" asked the barman. He dropped his hand out of sight behindthe bar. Tom's eye caught the move and he wished the customs men hadn'ttaken away their paralo-ray guns.

  Just at that moment he heard Roger's unmistakable laugh and turned tosee the blond cadet, followed by Astro, enter, cross the room, and slapthe bar for service.

  "Let me take care of these two," muttered the bartender and walked downto the end of the bar. Facing Roger and Astro, he snarled, "What'll itbe?"

  "Coupla bottles of Martian water," drawled Roger.

  "Get out of here," roared the bartender. "We don't sell kids' drinks inhere."

  "Two bottles of Martian water!" growled Astro and leaned over the barthreateningly. Strong and Tom watched the performance with amused eyes.Without a word, the barman opened the bottles of Martian water and gavethem to Roger and Astro. He turned back to Strong.

  "These young rocketheads think they're so blasted tough," he sneered,"and then drink kids' soda pop."

  Strong looked at Roger and Astro. "That fellow on the right," indicatingAstro's size, "looks like he could be a little more than a child, if hegot mad."

  The barman snorted and leaned over the bar. "What about that thousandcredits?" he asked.

  "What about it?" countered Strong.

  "That's a lot of money just for information," said the barman.

  "It's my money," replied Strong coolly, "and my business!"

  "What kind of information you interested in," asked the bartender.

  "I told you, information about a man," said Strong. "Gus Wallace. Happento know him?" Strong pulled a roll of crisp credit notes out of hisjacket pocket. The barman looked at them greedily.

  "Maybe. What'cha want with him?" he asked.

  "He knifed a friend of ours in here two years ago."

  "Yeah?" drawled the barman. "Who?"

  "Pete," answered Strong, suddenly realizing he didn't know thescar-faced man's last name.

  "Pete? Pete who?" asked the barman craftily.

  "What are you trying to do?" snapped Tom suddenly. "Play space lawyer?You know Pete was knifed in here by Gus Wallace two years ago! Carved upgood!" He made a slashing gesture from his ear to his throat, indicatingthe scar on Pete's face.

  "So you want Wallace, eh?" mused the bartender.

  "We want him a thousand credits' worth," said Strong.

  "You didn't tell me for what, yet."

  "None of your space-blasting business," roared Strong. "You want thethousand or not?"

  The bartender couldn't keep his eyes off the crisp roll of credit notesStrong rippled under his nose and hesitated. "Well, to tell you thetruth, I ain't seen him for a long time."

  "Then do you know anyone who has?" asked Strong.

  "Hard to tell," said the bartender huskily. "But I do know the guy whowould know if anyone does."

  "Who?" asked Tom.

  "On Venusport's Spaceman's Row. There's a joint called the Cafe Cosmos.Go there and ask for a little guy named Shinny. Nicholas Shinny. Ifanyone knows about Wallace, he'll know."

  Tom's heart almost stopped. Nicholas Shinny was a retired spaceman whohad taken part in his last adventure to Alpha Centauri, and was a goodfriend of Strong's and the _Polaris_ unit. Shinny had always operated onthe edge of the space code. Nothing illegal, but as Shinny himself putit, 'just bending the code a little, not breaking it.'

  Tom spoke up. "That's only worth a hundred credits," he said.

  "Whaddya mean!" snapped the barman.

  "How would Nick Shinny know Gus Wallace?" asked Strong.

  "They prospected the asteroids together years ago."

  Strong dropped a hundred-credit note on the bar and turned away withoutanother word. Tom followed, and as they passed Roger and Astro, aknowing look passed between them, and Tom gestured for them to follow.

  Having heard the conversation, Astro and Roger walked over to thebartender who was folding the credit note before putting it in hispocket.

  "You sell your information pretty cheap, spaceman," snarled Roger."Suppose those two were Solar Guardsmen in disguise?"

  The bartender paused, then shook his head. "Couldn't be!" he said.

  "Why not?" asked Roger.

  "Because the Solar Guard has a guy salted away that knows exactly whereWallace is."