He thought about it, trying to reason it out. The Jupiter Equilateral men obviously wanted them alive. A single shell could have split the orbit ship open at the seams, but the Ranger was taking the more dangerous choice of boarding them. That could only mean that at least one of them was to be taken alive.
But why?
Because they knew something that Jupiter Equilateral didn’t know, or Jupiter Equilateral thought they did.
The answer stared him in the face. Jupiter Equilateral had found out about Roger Hunter’s bonanza. They had killed him in order to get it, but they had killed him too soon. They had searched the orbit ship and the asteroid for the big strike they knew was there.
But they hadn’t found it.
And now they did not dare to kill Roger Hunter’s sons, because he might have told them where the bonanza was.
Tom grinned fiercely in the darkness. It was the answer, nothing else made sense. It meant that the men on the Ranger would have orders to pick up the three of them and bring them back to the Ranger’s orbit ship as quickly as possible. If they had the secret, they must be taken alive.
But Jupiter Equilateral would not dare let any one of them break away. If one of them got back to Mars, the whole U.N. patrol would be out in the belt.
The plan began to take shape.
Tom heard the storage room hatch swing open, saw head lamps flash across the piles of crates. There was a rumble of voices; he caught a few words.
“. . . burned out the main switch completely. Take a month to repair it.”
“Can’t see anything with these lamps.”
“He must have come in here, or the next one.”
Tom could see the head lamps, but he held his fire. He might miss, and they would have him. He waited as they conferred, flashing the beams around the hold, then moved out into the corridor, leaving the hatchway open.
Tom continued to wait, motionless, for five minutes. The plan was clear in his mind, but he had to let Greg know. He fingered the control of his helmet radio. The boarding party would have a snooper, but if he was quick, they wouldn’t have time to nail him. He buzzed an attention code. “Greg? Can you hear me?”
Silence. He buzzed again, and waited. What was wrong? Had they already broken through to the control cabin and taken Greg? He buzzed again. “Greg! Sound off if you can hear me.”
More silence. Then a click. “Tom?”
“Here. Are you all right?”
“So far. You?”
“They got past me, but they didn’t hit me. How’s Johnny?”
“I don’t know,” Greg said. “I think he’s been hurt. You’d better get off, they’ll have snoopers.”
“All right, listen,” Tom said. “How does it look to you?”
“Bad. We’re outnumbered, they’ll be through to here any minute.”
“All right, I’ve got an idea. It’s risky, but it might let us pull something out of this mess. I’ll need some time, though.”
“How much?”
“Ten, fifteen minutes.”
There was an edge to Greg’s voice. “What are you planning?”
“I can’t tell you, they’re listening in. But if it works. . . .”
“Look, don’t do anything rash.”
“I can’t hear you,” Tom said. “Try to hold them for fifteen minutes, and don’t worry. Take care of yourself.”
He snapped off the speaker and moved to the hatchway. The corridor was empty, and pitch black. He started down toward the airlock, then stopped short at the sound of voices and the flicker of head lamps up ahead. He crouched back, but the lights were not moving. Guards at the lock, making certain that nobody tried to board their own ship. Tom grinned to himself. They weren’t missing any bets, he thought.
Except one. There was one bet they wouldn’t even think of.
He backtracked to the storage hold, crossed through it, and out into the far corridor. He followed the gentle curve of the deck a quarter of the way around the ship. Twice along the way he stumbled in the darkness, but saw no sign of the raiders. At last he reached the far side, and the corridor leading to #4 airlock. Again he could see the lamps of the guards around the bend; they were stationed directly inside their own lock.
Inching forward, he peered into blackness. Each step made a muffled clang on the deck plates. He edged his boots along as quietly as possible, reaching along the wall with his hand until he felt the lip of a hatchway.
The lights and voices seemed nearer now. In the dim reflected light he saw the sign on the door of the hatchway:
He checked the gauge, silently spun the wheel. There was a ping as the seals broke. He pulled the hatch open just enough to squeeze into the lock, then closed it behind him. He switched on the pumps, waiting impatiently until the red “All Clear” signal flashed on. Then he opened the outside lock.
Just beyond, he could see the sleek silvery lines of the Scavenger with its airlock hanging open.
He hesitated for a moment. Once he started, there would be no chance to turn back. His plan might work, but it was a desperate chance, with incredible risks.
But he knew it was their only chance.
Tom took a deep breath and jumped across the gap to the open lock of the Scavenger.
Chapter Six
The Last Run Of The Scavenger
To Greg Hunter the siege of the orbit ship had been a nerve-wracking game of listening and waiting for something to happen.
In the darkness of the control cabin he stretched his fingers, cramped from gripping the heavy Markheim stunner, and checked the corridor outside again. There was no sound in the darkness there, no sign of movement. Somewhere far below he heard metal banging on metal minutes before he thought he had heard the sharp ripping sound of a stunner , blast overhead, but he wasn’t sure. Wherever the fighting was going on, it was not here.
He shook his head as his uneasiness mounted. Why hadn’t Johnny come back? Why was there no sign of the marauders in the control cabin corridor? This should have been the first place they would head for, if they planned to take the ship, but there had been nothing but silence and darkness.
Unless they were after something entirely different. . . .
He checked his stunner for the tenth time, tightened down the beam. He knew his position was good. The control cabin was the main compartment on the middle level of the ship. All corridors converged on two main control room corridors, front and rear. Greg had laboriously barricaded the rear entrance until nothing smaller than a bulldozer could push through. Anyone heading for the control cabin would have to come by the front corridor.
And that, Greg thought grimly, might be a very costly operation.
All the same, he wished that Johnny hadn’t left. The big miner had made his way to the control cabin just a few minutes after the boarding party had landed, his left ,arm hanging uselessly at his side, right hand gripping his stunner. “Winged me,” he had said angrily. “The two on scooters came in the lock just behind me and jumped me. I stopped one of them, but the other broke away and headed this way.”
“He didn’t come in here,” Greg said.
“Well, it won’t be long before somebody does,” Johnny said. “It looks bad. Must be two dozen of them aboard. We can’t hope to hold out very long.”
“We’ve got to,” Greg said. “If they get to us, we’re done for.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Johnny said thoughtfully. “Those boys had a perfect shot at me, but they used wide beams. Seems to me they’re being awful careful, for pirates.”