The Space Rover

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by Edwin K. Sloat

emigration colonies theUnited States is establishing on Ganymede," he explained hurriedly. "TheEarth Council, which recently took over the most fertile provinces onthe third moon of Jupiter, with the full approval of the InterplanetaryCouncil, has named him for the post. The position is nearly the same asthat of an absolute monarch. But he could not hold a government post andretain his executive position with the Interstellar people, so heresigned."

  Winford eyed him skeptically. Captain Robers, now greatly agitated,gestured frantically toward the chart table.

  "I am telling you the truth!" he assured Winford fervently. "You'll findsomewhere on the table a copy of the Heliogram News which tells of hisdeparture from New York less than twelve hours ago in a speciallychartered liner with his staff and friends for New Chicago, on Ganymede.It also tells of his approaching marriage to Princess Irkeen, daughterof King Donossus, a political marriage that will assure Teutoberg'sposition with the natives."

  "Poor girl," muttered Winford under his breath, searching among theloose papers on the chart table for the copy of the news which wasreceived every twelve hours by automatic helioprinter from New Yorkmillions of miles away. He read the article about Teutoberg through andlaid aside the paper. Turning to the charts he jotted down a few hastycalculations, and stepped to the controls where he set a new course forthe "iron mike" of the space freighter to follow.

  "Captain Robers, I have changed my mind about having you go out intospace from the air-lock," he announced, turning again to the anxiousofficer. "We will hold you prisoner with your men and later on will setyou down on one of Jupiter's smaller satellites--Callisto, if possible,since the living conditions there are quite satisfactory. Word will besent to Mars of where you can be found. All of your crew, exceptingthose who wish to sign on with me, will be freed with you. I and my sixcompanions are hardly enough to operate such a craft as this.Incidentally, we are appropriating the _Golden Fleece_ and its cargo. Ifthe Interstellar people object, they may present the bill to SilasTeutoberg, and he can deduct it from the income my property yields him."

  Captain Robers glanced up curiously at the harsh bitterness that creptinto Winford's voice. Then his glance shifted to Jarl, and he was amazedto see the malevolent expression that appeared on the Martian's face ashe listened to Winford's words. The moment passed, and Jarl silentlyescorted the officers below to be locked up with the rest of his crew.

  * * * * *

  Three weeks later, Earth time, the _Golden Fleece_ slipped into theatmosphere of Callisto, the fourth satellite of mighty Jupiter, whichswung in its orbit a million and a quarter miles from the great planet.Far off to the west, separated by two million miles of empty space,floated Ganymede, the third satellite, on which the people of the UnitedStates were now gaining a foothold with their newly planted colonies.

  The big freighter, under the engineering genius of Agar, had made amarvelously speedy journey from its original position just outside theorbit of Mercury to this point nearly four hundred and fifty millionmiles away from the little planet. Winford studied the ground below. Hewas only partly acquainted with the topography of Callisto and wanted tobe sure to pick a spot where Captain Robers and his men could be certainof surviving until help arrived. His eye picked out a satisfactory spotclose beside the Gnan River in one of the stunted conifer forests of theplanet. Swiftly he dropped the big freighter until it hovered but a fewyards above the ground.

  A freight port-hole was opened, and Captain Robers, accompanied by halfhis crew, prepared to descend. They were all bundled in heavy garments,for the temperature of Callisto, never high, frequently drops tosub-zero readings. Winford stood at the port and watched the men climbdown the rope ladder to the ground below.

  Robers was last to go. He faced Winford bitterly, for this escaped liferfrom Mercury had stolen not only his ship, but half his crew as well,and the prospect of a liberal share of the rich iridium cargo in thehold.

  "You'll regret this day!" snarled the captain. "I'll be in the front rowof spectators when you sniff the death gas in the glass execution cageon Mars. Hundreds have tried this sort of thing before you, and everyman of them has come finally to the cage."

  "You're only delaying us, Captain Robers," replied Winford coldly. "I amin a hurry to be on my way. Kindly move down the ladder and join yourmen. Your hand weapons and food supplies will be dropped by parachute aswe leave. I might add that in a short time I expect to be in a positionto broadcast an S O S message for you which should bring rescue shipshere to Callisto for you. Good-by."

  He turned away, leaving the officer to descend the ladder in baffledfury to the ground below, where his men huddled together in theunfamiliar cold, and stared half fearful at the far-away sun glowinglike a yellow arc-light in the depths of space half a billion milesaway.

  When the rising ship reached the thousand-foot level, the weapons andfood were dropped by parachute, and the port-hole closed and locked.Winford hurried forward to the control room where the two navigators,who had signed with him for a hundred and twentieth share of the iridiumeach, were already pointing the nose of the ship up through the purpleheavens toward Ganymede.

  "Open her up! Use the emergency propulsion beams!" ordered Winford. "Weare overdue now for my tryst with this new governor at New Chicago!"

  The officers gazed at him in awe, wondering what desperate thing heplanned at the new colonial capital.

  * * * * *

  Winford was poring over the maps of New Chicago six hours later in thechart room when one of the navigation officers touched him on theshoulder.

  "Battle sphere rapidly overhauling us from sunward, sir," said the man."Approaching us against the glare of sunlight until it was so close whenwe discovered it that escape is now impossible. I'd say it is one of thenew 4-Q heavies of the Interplanetary Council patrol fleet."

  Winford hurried to the telescope. As his anxious eye took in thespherical outline of the battle craft, showing as a silvery crescent tothe rear and starboard of them, he recognized it as one of the heavilyarmored spheres of the Interplanetary Council's fleet with the new longrange K-ray disintegrator guns.

  Winford seized a telescope speed calculator. The sphere was coming upfar too rapidly to permit the _Golden Fleece_ to pick up speed soonenough to escape--although he was confident the freighter could do itnow, since Agar had changed its propulsion machinery.

  Perhaps the commander of the battle sphere was merely curious about the_Golden Fleece_ since it appeared to be an ordinary tramp freighter withno distinguishing emblems or other identification, and was coming closeto give her a better look. Or perhaps he was hurrying to somedestination and his nearness to the _Golden Fleece_ was merelyaccidental.

  Whatever the cause, there remained but one thing to do, and that was tokeep the freighter on its course as though nothing out of the ordinarywas taking place. Winford turned to the communication board and cut inthe universal radio wave. The instrument was silent. He sighed. At leastthe commander of the battle sphere was not trying to communicate withhim.

  Winford turned back to the window again. The sphere was quite close now,and its speed was dropping rapidly. Suddenly the radio loud-speakerhummed to life.

  "Ahoy there, aboard the freighter," sounded a stern, determined voice."This is the Interplanetary Council battle sphere, _Eagle_, nearing you.We are coming aboard you to investigate. Make ready your air-lock toreceive us. Attempt nothing hostile. Hundred-kilowatt ray guns aretrained on you."

  Winford cut in the microphone and answered with the customary "O. K."reply; then he turned to the two white-faced navigators.

  "Carry on as usual," he said grimly. "Perhaps we can fool them once theyare aboard."

  Then he turned to the phone connecting with the crew's quarters. Hehurriedly explained the situation to Jarl and instructed him to receivethe boarding party at the air-lock.

  The big battle sphere was drawing close alongside. Magnet grapnels shotacross the narrow space between the two craft an
d gripped the side ofthe freighter, followed by the cable bridge along which the boardingparty presently came wavering their way to the air-lock of thefreighter.

  Winford counted fifty men, then turned away dejectedly. This was noordinary inspection party, but a prize crew coming aboard. He sat downwearily. Just as victory seemed almost within his grasp--had beenactually in his hand when he had started to Ganymede--this battle spherepopped up out of nowhere like an inescapable doom to strike him and hiscompanions down. He gritted his teeth. Some way, somehow he would stillwin out. He and his fellows had come too far to be cheated of libertynow.

  The door of the control room opened, and a smart young officer in goldand gray of the Interplanetary Council Marine service entered,accompanied by three privates with drawn pistols who took theirpositions near the door. Winford

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