"That date coincides, I believe, with the date of the termination of your investigation of the strata beneath Belt City," said Star, and it was not a question.
Langston bit his lip but made no response.
Suddenly, the redheaded adventurer's questions took a totally different tack.
"When you were at college, you studied subelectronics as well as mineralogy," he stated. "You proved to be quite a prodigy in both areas—in fact, while in your early twenties you took out a couple patents in force field technology. Your knowledge of field technics probably came in handy when you went into mineralogy, came to Mercury, and began work—often under hazardous conditions, and then only with the aid of heat-shields, which are a refinement of general force fields, designed to repel radiant energy."
Langston remained unspeaking, but a droplet of perspiration ran down his brow and his fine, intelligent eyes were bright and wary—like the eyes of a forest animal caught in a hopeless trap.
"Heat-shields are heterodyning electromagnetic fields which employ a part of the energy spectrum similar to the frequencies of the molecular binding-force that hold atoms together," Star continued. "We're talking of the so-called 'strong force,' which happens to be the most powerful force in the physical universe. To repel heat, the field operates in a bubble around the wearer of the field projector. It was not too difficult for a scientist of your cleverness to redesign the heat-shield so that it could repel and negate the bolts from energy weapons, such as the proton needle—whose beams are, after all, only heat."
Phath looked stupefied; Hardrock was staring unbelievingly at Star.
His mouth hung open.
"Your refinement of a mode whereby at whichever part of the wearer a needier was fired, the mini-computer built into the shield projector calculates the target point and focuses the full power of the screen at that point. Or screens, I should say. When we locate the place where you hide your Mardi Gras monster costume, I suspect we'll find, not one, but probably five field projectors, micro-miniaturized, built into the humped back and extraordinarily deep chest of the costume—"
Phath muttered an imprecation to his tribal deity, and said: "But, Star—the burning paws—how did he work that trick?"
The Pirate grinned that irrepressible boyish grin of his.
"That's the simplest thing of all, a mesh heating-grid concealed just beneath the thin but non-flammable outer skin of the palms. Try sticking your hand against the heating gride of a microwave cooker sometime, if you want to learn how the so-called 'Fire Troll' murdered his victims!"
"And this whole ... monstrous plot ... was concocted to serve what purpose?" croaked the Governor hoarsely.
Star sobered. "The uranium field beneath Belt City has to be the largest, most extensive and most valuable ever found. Worth enough to make multiple murder a cheap price to pay. Langston hoped to panic the populace, drive them into flight to other colonies or immigration off-planet, leaving Belt City empty and deserted. He would then, as a 'friend' of the Mercurian natives, who belonged to his phony church, claim the land and become, most likely, the richest man that ever lived."
"'A consummation devoutly to be wished,'" said Langston suddenly, and in a queerly childish voice. Then, shockingly, he giggled, and turned on them eyes from which all intelligence had vanished, leaving bland idiocy in its place.
Hardrock turned gray and cursed under his breath; the Governor turned his face away, looking sick. Star beckoned to the two officers standing by the door.
"I think he'll go quietly," said the redhead. "But take no chances with him!"
"Right, sir!" snapped one of the men crisply. They hustled Langston to his feet, focused a tangle-field on him which held his arms immobilized, and led him from the Temple.
"Got a question," said Hardrock. "If there is so much uranium ore beneath the city, why didn't our geigerscopes detect it before all this happened?"
"Because right above the uranium ore is a very thick layer of lead and cadmium, the two heavy metals which insulate against uranium radiation," explained Star.
"Devils of Darkside! How did you find out that?" demanded the commissioner. Star shrugged, assuming a bland expression.
"From the lab report on the core sample, of course," he said. "When you drill deep enough to hit the uranium, you have to pass through the layers of lead and cadmium. A 'plug' of those two metals was part of the core sample ..."
Within the hour, the Jolly Roger rose atop a column of atomic fire and was soon hurtling through space at breakneck velocities, for Haven and home. Having skipped breakfast, except for hasty cups of coffee, Star and his pal relaxed in their little breakfast nook and dawled over steaming hot scrambled eggs, crisp Venusian sausages, fresh-baked bread with Earthside butter, and pots of luscious pod-fruit preserves from the fertile canal-belts of Mars.
"What put you onto Langston in the first place, chief?" queried Phath. "I thought you rather liked the guy."
"I did," admitted the redhead. "When we first talked he was amiable and open and friendly, not knowing who I was. Then he saw the afternoon newsfax and realized I was a dangerous adversary and had to be removed. The timing was too exact, and Langston was the only one we talked to who didn't already know who I was, as did the Governor, Coimnissioner Hardrock, and that fat Uranian, Aardh, who runs the Golden Horseshoe ..."
While they lazily talked over the delicious breakfast Phath had prepared, the Jolly Roger flashed down the spaceways, en route to a host of new and exciting adventures.