“We may be able to follow them,” Greg said.
“If we can decipher the record,” Johnny Coombs said. “But we don’t have any clue to their language.”
“Did you have any trouble understanding what the map had to say?” the major said quietly.
“No.”
“I don’t think the rest will be much more difficult. They were intelligent creatures. The record will be understandable, all right.” He started to fold the map back into a tube again. “Maybe Roger Hunter tried to use the film projector. We’ll never know. But he must have realized that he had discovered the secret of a star-drive. He realized that the United Nations should be the ones to explore and use it, and he gave his life to keep it out of the hands of Tawney and his men.”
“A pity,” a cold voice said close behind them, “that he didn’t succeed, after all.”
They whirled. In the hatchway to the after cabin Merrill Tawney was standing, with a smile on his lips and a Markheim stunner trained directly on Major Briarton’s chest.
Chapter Fifteen
The Final Move
For a moment they could only stare at Tawney’s smiling face. Then the lieutenant made a swift move. “Don’t try it,” Tawney snapped, tightening his finger on the trigger. “I’m an excellent shot. One more move from any of you, and the major will leam what stun-shock feels like.”
Swiftly the little company man crossed the cabin, motioning them together against the wall with his stunner. He reached out to the radio panel, flipped it open, and expertly ripped out a handful of wiring. Then he leaned back against the control board, smiling again. “I realize I’m much earlier than you expected, Major. You did a very neat job of camouflaging your takeoff. We were almost fooled, and no doubt the dummy ship you sent off later got full fanfare. I suppose there will be a dozen patrol ships converging on this spot in a few hours, expecting to surprise a Jupiter Equilateral ship making a desperate attempt to hijack your little treasure here.”
The fat man laughed cheerfully. “Unfortunately for you,” he went on, “we have many friends on Mars, including a man in the map room. I’m afraid your little trap isn’t going to work after all.”
The major’s face was gray. “How did you get here?”
“By hitch-hiking. How else? Most uncomfortable, back there, even with a pile of pressure suits for padding, but your pilot was really very skillful.”
Johnny Coombs turned on the major. “What does he mean, a trap? I don’t get this.”
The major sighed wearily. “I had to try to force his hand. Even if we found what we were looking for, we had no case that could stand up against them. We needed proof, and I thought that with this as bait we could trap them. He’s right about the patrol ships, but they won’t be near for hours.”
“And that will be a little late to help,” Tawney said pleasantly.
The major glared at him. “Maybe so, but you’ve gone too far this time. This is an official U.N. ship. You’ll never be able to go back to Mars.”
“Really?” the fat man said. “And why not? Officially I’m on Mars right now, with plenty of people to swear to the fact.” He chuckled. “You seem to forget that little matter of proof, Major. When your patrol ships find a gutted ship and five corpses, they may suspect that something more than an accident was involved, but what can they prove? Nothing more than they could prove in the case of Roger Hunter’s accident. Scout ships have been known to explode before.”
He ran his hand over the metal cylinder. “And as for this, it’s really a surprise. Of course when we failed to find any evidence of mining activity, we were certain that Roger Hunter’s bonanza was something more than a vein of ore, but this!” He looked at their long faces. “Don’t worry, it will all be over quickly. My ship will be here in minutes now, and as soon as we have transferred your little treasure, we won’t make you suffer any longer. And you can be certain that we will exploit the secret of a star-drive to the very fullest.”
“How do you think you can get away with it?” the major said. “Turning up with something like that right after a whole series of suspicious accidents in space?”
“Oh, we aren’t as impatient as some people. We wouldn’t be so foolish as to break the news now. Five years from now, maybe ten years, one of our orbit ships will happen upon a silvery capsule on one of our asteroid claims, that’s all. I wouldn’t be surprised if a non-company observer might be on board at the time, maybe even a visiting senator from Earth. For something this big, we can afford to be patient.”
There was silence in the little scout ship cabin. They knew that Tawney meant everything he said. For all his smiling conversation, he was alert, and the weapon in his hand did not waver. A single false move would just bring the inevitable that much sooner.
And the end seemed inevitable. This was a desperate move on Tawney’s part. He was gambling everything on it; he would not take the chance of letting any of them return to Mars or anywhere else to testify.
As soon as Tawney’s ship arrived, it would all be over.
Greg caught Tom’s eye, saw the hopelessness on his brother’s face. He clenched his fists angrily. If it were not for Tom, Dad’s bonanza might have gone on circling the sun for centuries, maybe forever, wedged in its hiding place on the rocky surface of the eccentric asteroid.
But it had been found. Earth needed a star-drive badly; a few more years, and the need would be desperate. And if a group of power-hungry men could control a star-drive and hold it for profit, they could blackmail an entire planet for centuries, and build an empire in space that could never be broken.
He knew that it must not happen that way. Dad had died to prevent it. Now it was up to them.
Greg glanced quickly around the cabin, searching for some way out, something that might give them a chance. His eyes stopped on the control panel, and he sucked in his breath, his heart pounding. A possibility.
It would require a swift, sure move, and someone to help, someone with fast reflexes. It was dangerous; they might all be killed. But if his training at Star-Jump was good for anything, it might work.
He caught Johnny Coombs’ eye, winked cautiously. A frown creased Johnny’s forehead. He shot a quick look at Tawney, then lowered his eyelid a fraction of an inch. Greg could see the muscles of his shoulders tightening.
Greg took quick stock of the cabin again. Then he took a deep breath and bellowed, “Johnny! Duck!”
Almost by reflex, Johnny Coombs hurled himself to the floor. Tawney swung the gun around. There was an ugly ripping sound as the stunner fired, but Greg was moving by then. In two bounds he was at the control panel. He hooked an arm around a shock bar, and slammed the drive switch on full.
There was a roar from below as the engines fired. Greg felt a jolt of pain as the accelleration jerked at his arm. Tom and the major were slammed back against a bulkhead, then fell in a heap on top of Johnny and the lieutenant as the awful force of acceleration dragged them back. Across the cabin Tawney sprawled on the floor. The stunner flew from his hand and crashed against the rear bulkhead.
On the panel Greg could see the acceleration gauge climbing swiftly—past four g’s, up to five, to six. The ship was moving wildly; there was no pilot, no course.
With all the strength he could muster Greg tightened his arm on the shock bar, lifting his other arm slowly toward the cut-off switch. He had spent many hours in the acceleration centrifuge at Star-Jump, learning to withstand and handle enormous forces of acceleration for brief periods, but the needle was still climbing and he knew he could not hold on long. His fingers touched the control panel. He strained, inching them up toward the switch.