“…Squadron L! Put out immediate rescue jet boats and begin salvage operations. All remaining ships will return to Solar Guard base, Space Academy. End transmission!”
Strong hurried to the air lock, hastily put on a space suit, and in a few moments was blasting in a jet boat toward the remains of the attacking scout.
Immediately the communications of the departing fleet were filled with talk of their victory over the pirate band. Strong alone felt uneasy about their success. For Coxine to attack in a light rocket scout, which Strong felt sure had been stripped down to gain more speed, did not follow the pattern which the hardened pirate had established in previous raids.
When he arrived at the wreckage of the rocket scout, Strong found that his fears were justified.
A crew chief from one of the rescue squads approached Strong; his body weightless in space, the man grappled for a handhold on a jutting piece of the twisted wreck, and then spoke to Strong over the helmet spacephones.
“We found only one person aboard, sir,” he reported. “And the ship appears to have been stripped of everything but engines and control panel.”
Behind the protective glass of his helmet, Strong grimaced. He turned to Captain Randolph. “We’ve been tricked again, Randy,” said Strong bitterly. “We used a decoy and so did Coxine!”
* * * *
“They’re closing in!” Roger’s voice crackled through the intercom from the radar bridge. “Do we fight or do we let those space crawlers take over?”
“Fight!” bellowed Astro from the power deck.
“No! Wait!” cried Tom. “We haven’t a chance! If we don’t heave to, Coxine’ll blast us into space junk!”
Rocketing through the asteroid belt with the Titan pay roll, the three space cadets, under strict orders to maintain communications silence, were unaware that Bull Coxine had outsmarted Captain Strong. Sending in the rocket scout, he had sprung the Solar Guard trap and had cagily scanned the belt for another ship. Finding the Polaris easily, the pirate captain was blasting in for the attack.
On the control deck of the Solar Guard cruiser, Tom Corbett desperately tried to think of a plan to outwit Coxine, while his unit-mates urged him to fight back.
“What’s the matter, Junior?” Roger called over the intercom sarcastically. “Scared to fight?”
“You know I’m not,” snapped Tom in reply.
“By the rings of Saturn,” growled Astro, “I never thought you’d surrender to anybody, Tom!”
“Listen, both of you!” shouted Tom. “It’s no use! We’ve got to play this smart!”
“Well, start making with the brains,” sneered Roger. “Coxine’s in range now.”
“Attention—” A harsh unmistakable voice rumbled over the audioceiver. “This is Bull Coxine! Heave to or you’ll be blasted!”
“All right, Junior,” said Roger bitterly, “company’s coming. What now?”
“Cut all power, Astro—fast!” ordered Tom.
“What’s the matter?” growled Astro. “Afraid they’ll shoot if you don’t stop fast enough?”
“Keep your big trap shut and do as I tell you!” snapped Tom.
“Listen, Junior!” snarled Roger. “As far as I’m concerned—”
Tom interrupted him. “You listen, you idiot! Don’t you see what’s happened? Coxine must have found out about the decoy ship, and when we showed up on his scanner, he figured right away that we might have the Titan pay roll.”
“So what?” demanded Roger. “That still doesn’t let you off for not belting that crawler with our six-inchers!”
“Use your head!” snapped Tom. “With the Solar Guard squadrons on the other side of the belt and with no gun crews on our ship, how far do you think we’d have gotten?”
“You didn’t have to surrender, Tom,” said Astro. “I could have outrun Coxine in nothing flat. Why, I haven’t got half the speed out of this old girl I think she’s got.”
“A great idea, bird brain! Run away from the very guy the Solar Guard’s going crazy trying to find!”
The intercom was suddenly silent as Astro and Roger began to understand Tom’s decision and waited for him to elaborate on his idea.
“Now, listen, Roger,” said Tom patiently, “we’ve got about five minutes before those crawlers will be aboard. How long will it take you to make a signal beacon that’ll send out a constant automatic SOS?”
“A what?” asked Roger.
“Beacon. One that will transmit on the Solar Guard special frequency and be small enough to hide here on the Polaris.”
“Why hide it on the Polaris?” asked Astro. “Why not try to get it on their ship?” His tone was almost apologetic now that he realized Tom was not planning a cowardly surrender.
“It’s a cinch they’ll take the Polaris over,” explained Tom. “She’s fast and she’s got six-inch blasters.”
“I get it!” yelped Astro. “We plant the beacon on the Polaris, and when they take her over, the signal will be going out all the time.” Astro paused. “But wait a minute. They’ll be sure to search the ship first!”
“First things first, Astro,” answered Tom. “Roger, can you make the beacon?”
“Yeah,” said Roger, “but it’ll take me at least a half hour!”
“You’ve got to finish it faster than that!” Tom insisted.
“I can’t, Tom. I just can’t.”
“All right, then we’ll have to stall as best we can. Get to work. Meantime, Astro and I will find a place to hide it. How big do you think it’ll be?”
There was a momentary pause and then Roger replied, “No smaller than six inches. About like a shoe box.”
“Could you make it three inches thick, and longer, instead of box-shaped?”
Roger hesitated again. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
“Because I just thought of a good place to hide it. They’d have to tear the ship apart to find it, if they even hear the signal!”
“Attention! Attention! This is Coxine—” The pirate’s voice bawled over the audioceiver again. “You are under my guns. Stand by to receive a boarding party. If you make any attempt to escape, you will be blasted!”
Tom grabbed the microphone to the audioceiver and replied, “Orders understood, but you’ll have to wait until we can build up air pressure in the air lock.”
“Very well,” said Coxine. “We’ll give you fifteen minutes.”
Tom thought desperately. “You’ll have to wait at least a half hour. We broke a valve and have to replace it!”
Coxine’s voice became suspicious. “Hey, what’re you trying to pull?”
“Honest, Mister Coxine,” whined Tom, “we’re not doing anything.”
“Fifteen minutes,” roared Coxine, “or I blast a hole in your ship!”
“Yes, sir!” answered Tom, fully aware that the pirate captain would carry out his threat.
Dropping the audioceiver microphone, the young cadet hurried to the power deck, where Astro waited impatiently.
“Grab a couple of cutting torches, Astro,” he said, “and get me a lead-lined suit. I’m going into the reactant chamber.”
“What?” demanded Astro.
“You heard me! I’m going to hide that beacon where they’ll never find it.”
“In the reactant chamber?” asked Astro. “Impossible!”
“Remember when we first arrived at the prison asteroid? How thoroughly we were searched?”
Astro nodded.
“Remember, they even searched the space between the inner and outer hulls? There’s three inches of clearance in there. If I cut into that space through the reactant chamber and put the beacon inside, the noise of the jets will keep Coxine from hearing it, and the radioactivity in the chamber will keep them from picking it up on their detectors!”
Astro’s face spread into a wide grin, and without another word, he began preparing the cutting torches. Ten minutes later Tom emerged from the chamber and nodded triumphantly. “All set, Astro! Now all we need is the
beacon.”
Suddenly the Polaris was rocked by a heavy explosion.
“They’re firing!” yelled Astro.
“Roger! Have you finished the beacon?” demanded Tom over the intercom.
“I need another five minutes!” answered Roger. “I have to set the signal to send out the SOS.”
“Will it send out anything?” asked Tom.
The Polaris rocked again from a second explosion.
“I don’t know, Tom,” yelled Roger. “I haven’t even tested it!”
A third explosion jarred the rocket cruiser and the curly-haired cadet knew that the air lock must have been demolished by now.
“Bring down what you’ve got, Roger!” he yelled. “We’ll just have to take a chance that it’ll work. And grab yourself a space suit on the way down. When they blast through the inner portal of the lock, we’ll need ‘em!”
“Right!” replied Roger. “Be down there in a second.”
Astro and Tom hurriedly donned space suits and waited for Roger to bring the beacon. In a moment the blond-haired cadet appeared with the hurriedly contrived beacon. Tom quickly placed it between the two hulls and sealed the hole in the inner hull.
A fourth explosion rocked the ship and the three cadets knew that by now the air lock had been blasted away. They put on their space helmets and climbed the ladder to the upper deck.
Coxine met them near the air lock, two paralo-ray guns clutched in his gloved hands. Behind him, his crew swarmed in and fanned out all over the ship.
But the space pirate stood on the control deck, glaring at Tom. “Whaddya know! The Space Kid himself!”
“That’s right, Coxine,” said Tom quietly, “only the real name is Corbett.”
Suddenly there was a triumphant shout from one of the pirates. “Skipper! The credits! All twenty million! We found ‘em!”
Over their spacephones the three cadets could hear the pirates yelling and cheering. Coxine bellowed for silence and the cheering quickly subsided.
Paying no further attention to the three cadets, the pirate captain ordered his men to repair the hole in the air lock and prepare for immediate acceleration. There was a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he announced their destination.
“With the Solar Guard on the other side of the belt, we’re going to hit the richest prize in the universe! The colony on Ganymede!”
He then turned and smiled at his three prisoners, adding menacingly, “And we’ve got three passes to get us through the defenses!”
CHAPTER 19
Ganymede, the largest moon of Jupiter, was an important way station of the Solar Alliance for all spaceships traveling between the outer planets of Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto and the inner planets of Mars, Earth, Venus, and Mercury. The colony on Ganymede was more of a supply depot than a permanent settlement, with one large uranium refinery to convert the pitchblende brought in by the prospectors of the asteroids. Refueling ships, replenishing supplies, and having a small tourist trade, it was a quiet colony, one of many spread throughout the system.
With the Solar Guard search squadrons hopelessly out of range on the other side of the asteroid belt, the cadets’ only hope of saving the tiny colony lay in the beacon hidden inside the hull of the Polaris.
Leaving Wallace and half of his crew aboard the Polaris, Bull Coxine had transferred the three cadets to the Avenger and thrown them into the brig. As the ship accelerated toward the colony, Tom stared out of the small, barred viewport while Roger and Astro sprawled glumly on the hard bunks.
Roger finally broke the heavy silence. “What do you suppose Coxine meant when he said he had three passes into Ganymede?”
“Give you one guess, pal,” snorted Astro.
“He obviously expects us to give him the recognition signal,” said Tom.
Roger sighed. “That’s what I figured. But I was hoping I was wrong.”
“At least we’re all immune to truth drugs,” said Astro hopefully. “He won’t get the recognition code out of us that way.”
“That dirty space crawler wouldn’t even bother with drugs,” muttered Roger. “They aren’t enough fun. He likes to get what he wants the hard way.”
“Yes,” agreed Tom. “We’re in for a rough time, guys.”
They all looked at each other, fully aware of what lay in score for them. Finally Astro growled, “I don’t care what he does to me. I won’t tell him a thing!”
“Same here!” exclaimed Roger.
Tom merely nodded, his face a grim, expressionless mask.
Suddenly three men led by Brooks, the radar operator, appeared in the passageway outside the brig. Brooks stepped forward, opened the door, and gestured with the paralo-ray gun in his hand.
“All right, you punks! Outside!”
Astro started to lunge for the pirate, but Tom grabbed him by the arm. “Take it easy, Astro. That won’t get us any place.”
“You can say that again,” sneered Brooks. “One crazy move like that, kid, and I’ll freeze you solid as a cake of ice! Now come on! Move!”
Tom, followed by Astro and Roger, walked slowly out of the brig, and guarded closely by the three pirate crewmen they were taken to the main air lock.
“All right,” said Brooks. “The big ox and blondie, get in there!”
One of the crewmen opened the air-lock portal while the other two jabbed Astro and Roger with ray guns. The two cadets stumbled into the chamber and the door was slammed behind them.
“Lock it!” snarled Brooks.
When the men had secured the portal, Brooks turned and pushed Tom roughly along the passageway. A moment later they reached the control deck where Bull Coxine was hunched over his charts.
“Here he is, Captain,” said Brooks. “The other two are sealed up in the air lock like sardines!”
Coxine nodded and faced Tom, a thin smile on his face. “I told you I would get the recognition signal, Corbett,” he said. “And I will!” Coxine walked over to a large valve on the after bulkhead and tapped the needle indicator right beside it. Satisfied, he turned back to the cadet.
“In two hours,” began Coxine, “we’ll be within range of the Ganymede garrison and its radar. It takes exactly eight turns on this valve to bleed the air out of the air lock where your two buddies are. So, every fifteen minutes I’m going to ask you for the recognition signal, and every time you say no, I’ll turn the valve once. By the time we get close enough to Ganymede to be picked up on their radar, you’ll either have given me the signal or your buddies will be dead!”
Tom stood listening to Coxine, his blood boiling at the giant spaceman’s cruelty. Suddenly he tore across the control deck and made a dive for Coxine’s neck. But the big man met him coming on and with a powerful slap of his hand sent the boy sprawling back across the deck.
“You’re a good man, Corbett,” said Coxine, standing over the fallen cadet, “but you’re a little man, and a good big man can lick a good little man any time!”
Brooks and the crewmen laughed loudly as Tom dragged himself to his feet.
“Well, do I get the signal?” demanded Coxine. “Or do your buddies get a little less air?”
Standing unsteadily on his feet, with four paralo-ray guns trained on his body, Tom thought quickly of Roger and Astro, alone in the darkness of the air lock, soon to be clawing their throats for air; of the merciless attack on the prison asteroid; of the helpless ships Coxine had looted. All these things and more flashed through the curly-haired cadet’s mind as he weighed his life and the lives of his unit-mates against an attack that would devastate the small satellite of Jupiter. Tom could see through the pirate’s demand for the recognition signal. Once inside the Ganymede radar screen, he could attack the Solar Guard garrison and wipe it out before it could raise a ship in defense.
“Well?” demanded Coxine, placing his huge hand on the valve.
Tom knew that if he could stall long enough, the signal aboard the Polaris might be picked up by the Solar Guard. Roger and Astro were in goo
d physical condition. They could conserve their energy as soon as they discovered the trap. He had to stall and hope the signal would be picked up in time.
“The only thing I’ll ever give you, Coxine,” said Tom through clenched teeth, “is a blast of a paralo-ray!”
Coxine snarled in anger and turned the valve, shouting, “One more thing, Mister Hero! The minute the air lock is empty, you take a swim in space too!”
Tom was prepared for that. He knew the pirate would not take defeat at the hands of a Space Cadet easily. Tom was resigned to his fate. He was ready to accept anything if it would serve the purpose of ridding the solar system of Bull Coxine.
“Tie him to that chair,” snarled the giant pirate captain. “And make sure he’s secure, or you’ll go swimming in space with him!”
Tom was shoved roughly into the copilot’s chair in front of the control board and tied down with a thick rope. He winced as the heavy line dug into his arms. After inspecting the job, Coxine dismissed Brooks and the men with a curt nod and returned to his charts.
Tom sat in front of the control panel, his eyes sweeping the gauges and dials and at last fixing on the master acceleration lever. Two feet away was the lever that controlled all the power on the ship. If he could only reach it, he could stop the Avenger dead, and possibly even put the ship completely out of commission. But try as he might, he could not get his hands free.
Coxine looked up at the astral chronometer and walked over to the valve. “Well, Corbett,” demanded the burly spaceman, “what’s the recognition signal?”
Tom only shook his head.
“Must be pretty bad, sitting down there in the dark, hearing the oxygen feed in slower and slower. You sure you won’t change your mind?”
Tom looked squarely at Coxine, hatred in his eyes, and he watched the pirate captain shrug his shoulders, turn the valve again, and return to his charts.
The young cadet watched the astral chronometer, seeing the red hand sweep the seconds away, and the black minute hand inch around the dial. Over and over, the curly-haired Space Cadet refused Coxine’s demand for the recognition signal and then watched helplessly as the pirate gave the air-lock valve another twist.
The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels Page 50
